Apparatus Of Change - Chapter 141 (Patreon)

Shine - Apparatus Of Change

Soul of Unity

Available Power : 14

I ‘find’ Yuea, Kalip, the high ranking demon Jeorge, and an attentively listening Sharpen, all occupying my planning room.  Three of the four people are looking at the map I’ve been trying to carve out of wood of the border region of the Green.

The process is an ongoing challenge.  Shift Wood is a tool that I have been forced to spend a truly silly amount of magical might practicing; any of my past lives would have blanched at the thought of just how many spells or catchers it would take.  The merchant in particular could put a value in silver on the sum total of the spellwork so far, and in her time, it would exceeded the profits of a half a year’s worth of caravaning.  But for all the hypothetical value of my magic, the output itself is rough.  Shift Wood lets me make adjustments and small motions, but every piece of text or craft or light armor I produce with it would be impossible if not for the knowledge of my old lives.  The spell is simply too imprecise, no matter what I use it most frequently for.

I may have become adequate at using it to write, sometimes to multiple places at the same time, but the detail demanded for a good map, especially in the number of overlapping lines and icons, means that my attempts to produce anything but the most simple tactician boards is fraught.

My current attempt at a map, drawn out from my work with rings of Distant Vision that I can spare from using the spell to scout the inner edge of its range around our fort, is a mess.  The wood wasn’t really meant to be seen by anyone else.  The distances are incorrect as all of the surviving signage I have seen out where my range can reach is in ‘yins’ or ‘steps’ and not lengths, my attempts to mark forested areas or bodies of water has left parts of the map with too many scores in the wood and nearly crumbling apart, and it is obvious I overcommitted when attempting to draw the first riverside village I found as instead of a simple icon it is a series of very thin lines marking out individual buildings.  A practice I gave up on almost right away.

Yuea, of course, has found it where it was left out.  She doesn’t say anything about the quality, but the parchment map that she has next to it is the one the group is clearly paying more attention to.  I think mine is being used to check new information, rather than as a map.

“This is disheartening.”  Jeorge is saying as I shift my attention through my inkrats.  “Shilocka, Shihua, Imit-Shi, all gone?  We knew… we knew that some of the wildling settlements had gone quiet, but our march was to one of the quietest ports in the nation…”

”Wavewatch.”  Yuea says with quiet certainty.  “At least that’s still standing.  No idea if Catacha is on the other side of the lake.”

”Sea.”

”Puddle.”  She snorts.  “Never did ask how you ended up in the Green.”  The commander says, pointedly not making it a question.

Jeorge stills, looking away from her only to see Sharpen’s curious wide eyed stare looking back.  The gob’s observation of the conversation falters, the newest person in the room looking like they’re trying to decide if they should be absorbing this information or not.  When the demon next speaks it is with a heavy voice.  “One of our patrols found citizens in need, on the roads, in alarming numbers.  And after we couldn’t make contact with the Gauntlet, our force commander made the decision to establish a camp to safely receive refugees.”  He breathes deeply, eyes glistening.  “I am not a fighter, human.  I am a logistics watcher.  Our supply train was intercepted between Deepwatch and the Shihua roadway crossing by… by those things.  And you know the rest.  We fought.  We lost.”

”Punishment detail.”  Kalip says from the window, his voice carrying on the sunny breeze that countermands the mood of the room.

Jeorge bleats out a laugh, looking over at the mostly-human man as he leans on the table with a rough hand next to my equally rough map.  “A cooldown assignment.  The quietest part of the world to put troublemakers and the lower scoring watchers.”  He shakes his head, dipping his horns down.  “We never stood a chance.”

”Not like we have much room to talk.”  Yuea says with a sardonic bark of bitter laughter.  “That’s the same reason we got shoved out here too.  We just got luckier.”  That is something of a lie, though when Yuea says ‘luckier’, she means that she and Kalip were magetouched, and that at least is accurate.  One day I will hear her true reason for being in this supposedly quiet part of the world, where two nations at war are sharing an unused border with the Green.  Maybe she will even tell me what happened to the rest of her soldiers; why she and Kalip alone were the ones leading a tiny batch of civilians through the Green.

”Indeed.”  Jeorge looks toward the inkrat that I am pulling up on to the table with determined climbing motions.  He addresses me directly through the glimmerling.  “I should thank you, for news of our nation, even if it is… unpleasant.”

”You can swear at Shiny, he doesn’t mind.”  Yuea offers, sweeping a tinted hand over the better map before landing a finger on one of the roadways.  “So you were taken here.  But we killed that one, so no idea what took over the territory.”

There is no reason to assume a new apparatus has filled the niche.  I write steadily on the table.  Our expedition will need to assess as they pass.  But so far, every eliminated foe has failed to be replaced on the fought-for parts of the map.

”…Because they are yours.”  Sharpen says directly, politely declining to add the phrase ‘you idiot’ to the end of it.  “And no one wants to fight you.”

“Kid has a good point.”  Yuea admits with a shrug that I can see her overextend on through the damage that Amalgamate Human reports to me.  I let the magic trickle healing into her body, silently pleading with her to stop breaking herself as she continues.  “Wish we could see farther.  The whole empire is out there, I want to know what’s happening.  What a fucking tar pit.”

”We couldn’t reach high command either, at the end.”  Kalip points out.  “It’s probably not good.”  He glances at my map.  “If you’re here,” he addresses the inkrat, “we can’t read the marks on some of the human towns.  Did Crook or Sunrise survive?”

They did not.  I apologize, this was practice, not a usable map.

”Fine.”  Kalip says, hardening his voice.  “How far can you go, for now?”  He asks, eyes locked on the good parchment map of this conflicted region.

Distant Vision is an imprecise spell unless I am viewing somewhere that has a sextant for triangulation.  I explain.  With landmarks, I could tell you the general area, but there are some settlements, even larger villages, out there that are too damaged for me to know exactly which one they are.  And the landmarks must be close, because remember, I do not see beyond the spell’s field.  I believe, based on the roads I can find, the farthest human settlement I can view is Redfield.

”That’s not on the map.”  Sharpen says with the kind of disheartened voice that a new gob almost always uses when someone is about to tell them that some form of record or rule is not an immutable truth.

“It’s around here.”  Yuea flicks at the map but doesn’t actually touch it.  “Anything in the last ten years isn’t going to be on the frontier maps.”

”…Why?”  Sharpen asks, the pebbled hide of their face scrunching up in a grimace.

That is a good question.  Does your empire have trouble with cartography?  Or is it a production issue?  I inquire, eliciting a huff of smothered laughter from Jeorge as he reads it.

Yuea glowers at the demon.  “Don’t act superior, furball.  Your presses don’t make maps either.”  She folds her arms, arching her neck like she’s trying to get a joint in her neck to crack and in the process nearly ripping an enhanced muscle.  “Maps take time to survey, longer to make enough copies for it to matter.  The army gets the best of them, but even then if you’re not on the front lines, you’re getting secondhand information.” She explains to Sharpen.  “Army maps, you can at least trust were mostly right, when they were drawn up.”

The gob looks aghast, one hand of long curled fingers grasping rhythmically around the hilt of the broken sword that they were risen from.  Sharpen’s gaze flicks from the map, to Yuea, and eventually settles on the inkrat acting as my avatar for this chat.  “I hate that!”  They declare.  “We should make better maps!”

I have been trying, but none of my lives were cartographers, and my magic is not specialized for this work.  Though I will do my best for you, my friend.

”Fine.”  Sharpen says with a determined nod.  “I will make maps.”

”You think you’re going to-“ Jeorge says, before Kalip holds up a hand to cut the man off.

The archer shakes his head.  “You’re new here.”  He says patiently.  “So you haven’t seen this yet.  They do this thing, the gobs, where they’ll say something like that, and then become a problem following up on it.”  The stoic man almost sighs as he sees Sharpen nodding along.  “We’re going to need parchment and ink.”  He mutters.

”Not needed.  I will learn to borrow the wood spell.”  Sharpen declares happily, already flicking their claws against the table, associated with a gentle but incomplete tugging against Shift Wood inside my thoughts.  “I will need practice.”  Sharpen adds.

”And more math than you might suspect, kid.”  Jeorge says, not unkindly.  The ranking demon has taken easily to the presence of the gobs.  I’m almost surprised, given the animosity that the humans and demons have for each other.  But - though it is more pronounced for the demons - neither ‘side’ of this conflict seems to have an excessive problem with the gobs, or the verdlings either.  Or even my bees, once they get to know them.

I am another matter, but I believe I fall into a similar category, emotionally, as their long time enemies.  The apparati have ravaged this part of the world, and our magic outclasses anything I have seen from the nations and their people so far.  To be afraid of one of the things that has been destroying your home and killing your people is understandable.  For Jeorge to recover from that fear is admirable, even if the existence of the fear itself still hurts me.

”Our teacher is a librarian.”  Kalip points out almost coyly.  “Seraha isn’t going to know all the math.”

”Great.  Jeorge, you’re hired.”  Yuea claps the demon on the shoulder, eliciting either a finch or a bone-rattled twitch from the man, depending on how her control is coming along.

The demon opens his mouth, possibly to protest, but then sees the evil grin Yuea is sending his way, and recants.  “I’d be happy to assist.”  He tells Sharpen.  “But I’ll be hoping for some diver’s luck when our scouts come back, so we don’t need to.”

”No, I will make maps anyway.”  Sharpen says with a shake of their head, the gob’s stubby tail twitching behind them as they gaze at the different levels of cartography on the table and also on the panes around the room.

“See?”  Kalip says with a tiny smile as he scratches at the fur bristling from one of his arms.  Then he pauses, and looks at my inkrat directly.  “Shine, how long have you been listening in?  Do you have any thoughts on our next move?”

I apologize for the interruption, I brought my focus here in time to hear you speaking about lost settlements.  I had a question for either yourself or Yuea, but it is not at present pressing, and I am capable of taking time to discuss the future.  Many of my plans are proceeding well enough.

My plans include:  Teaching the foraging party about the wild grains that I have identified from my old lives, so that I can later teach Dipan and his kitchen helpers how to create a palatable and filling dish from them.  Creating a new transport with Spawn Golem for that foraging team, so they can carry back enough of those wild grains to feed the fort for a time.  Learning how to grow at least one variety of my glimmerlings without causing an explosion.  Learning how to grow a… I suppose I could call it a mantraling if I were to use the same naming schema.  Continuing to repair or improve everything in the fort that I can attach my magic to.  And, perhaps most importantly, speaking to each of the survivors in small ways; pairing off support bees to everyone who will accept them, writing small words of understanding or compassion, and making Small Promises to anyone and everyone that I am here to support them in their combat against the darkness of despair.

Small plans, I suppose.  Though plans I have begun to master layering atop each other.  And I realize that I have begun thinking of this place amid the Green as… a more permanent kind of home.  Whether the others will stay or go, I do not know.  I cannot imagine wanting to live a life here, as it is.  But maybe I should be taking that power I have collected and finding ways for making it not ‘as it is’.  Change is my marching ration, after all.

”Hey.  Dumbass rock.  Pay attention.”  I focus on Yuea snapping her fingers in front of the inkrat, and consider emulating the wild animal the glimmerling is shaped like for a moment to try to gnaw on her hand.  “Stop getting distracted.  You’re here, you answer questions.  What’s the farm situation?”

In progress.  Jahn and his new help is doing an excellent job at working the area just outside the fort into plots that Bind Crop works on.  I see Jeorge wince as the spell name is hewn deep into the table.  But this, at least, I have grown adept at smoothing over later.  That spell in particular holds a deep wellspring of potency from my Authority, though I hesitate to force it to my will, as I am playing with your food supply.

”Pretty sure I can eat anything and not die.”  Yuea comments.  “Could be our poison tester.”  She suggests.

”Commander, you’re explicitly supposed to not eat poison.”  Kalip says, though he grimaces as Yuea’s look makes it clear she’s about to volunteer him for the job.  “But I suppose if we’re both amalgams that Shine can heal…”

I’ll take it under consideration.  I fail to commit.  

Even as I come to understand my magics more and more, I still do not feel comfortable tampering with food.  Bolster Nourishment is one thing; that is a working that does exactly what it does, and I do not think I could make it harmful even if I wanted to.  But Bind Crop?  There is something that could be a disaster if I falter in using it with precision.  And the farmer’s memories know accursedly well what can go wrong with modifying crops.

Jeorge breaks the silence in the wake of my writing.  “Faster is still enough.”  The man tells the room.  “You’ll make lazy dirtworkers out of all of us, if what I’ve heard about can be applied to the valley.  Storming might be an issue next year, though.  Late fall too, if the Green even has the same weather as this part of the nation.  We never did get good scout reports out of it.”

”Yeah, looking back on it, that’s our fault.”  Yuea’s admission holds neither regret nor venom.  Just a statement that the human and demon armies being at each other’s throats maybe put them both in a bad position for any outside problem.  “Fuck, I wish we could see farther.  It’d be nice to know if we’re building supplies for an evacuation march, or bunkering down.”

When my reserves are filled again, I will attempt Distant Trajectory with Distant Vision.  I tell them.  I have not yet tried, in case the expedition needs my aid, but there will come a point when I have vigor to spare and also they will be outside my range.  We can discuss further then, in perhaps under a tenday.

”That’s… fast.”  Jeorge says with concern.  “Especially for here.”

Form Caravan may be assisting them.  Or Lutra is.  Or perhaps being healthy, having a goal, and not being opposed by the Green is enough to see them through faster than expected.

“Good magic, that.”  Kalip nods, his focus slipping toward the window that he returns to look out of, the man seeming restless.

I capitalize on that, writing on the wall near his own line of sight, using my inkrat as a spotter.  I have a favor to ask of you in particular, if you’re willing.  He cocks an eyebrow back at the nearest inkrat, but says nothing, so I continue as another part of my thoughts debates enhanced crop merits with Yuea.  There is someone I would like you to train to fight, as you did with Mela.  I know you are not much for the spear, but anything you could give her as a foundation would be appreciated.

“Who?”  Kalip is momentarially surprised. “Not one of the imps.  You don’t call the gobs like that.  So… a bee?”

Indeed.  One of the older lancers.  Curious and independent.  I think she would benefit from learning, and socializing.  Also I have been shaping her a weapon that will suit her.

”…I have a life beyond being a mentor to your projects.”  Kalip mutteres.

I smooth out the wall, and write a new phrase.  I know that you believe you should, but you enjoyed the process with Mela, and you will enjoy this process as well.

He mouths some of the words as he reads them out, his eyes narrowing as he does, before he snorts and turns to look out over the fort’s pallisade through the wide window again.  Outside, sunlight and fresh air stream in, only to break against the minor storm Kalip is manifesting in his emotions.  But eventually…

”If I say yes, can you stop burrowing into my heart and dredging up things I didn’t know were there?”  He asks with surprising poetry.

For the time, yes.

”Good enough.”  Kalip sighs, before turning to lean on the window’s ledge and watching Yuea try to explain food logistics to the gob that I think is now mostly listening so they can understand how to translate farmland to a map.  “What did you want to ask us, since we’ve got a moment?”

Ah.

”Ah?”  Kalip voices, and we both see Yuea’s reaction as her sharp hearing catches the utterance, her head coming up to look at both the man and my writing in the corner of his vision.  “Why does that sound like we’re not getting a rest today?”

”Talk fast.”  Yuea adds, her words sharp as she stares at my current writing surface.

It is not a pressing problem.  I attempt to defend myself.  While exploring the fort earlier, I discovered the underground passage to where vim is harvested.

Yuea and Kalip both have a moment where they glance toward Jeorge, but the demon just waves a heavy hand.  “Yes, yes, a military secret, I’m sure.  So is this building going to collapse into a hidden pit?”

Hardly.  The vim pit is actually quite far underground.  Below the undersea this valley has, actually.  And… I believe the undersea is actually blocking most magic, somehow.  As below that line, something nearly stole away one of my more potent bees.  Oh, and there is a conflicting domain beneath us; one that is filled with a power that I have no encountered before.  Something old, and unlikely to be anything like myself.  I wished to ask if either of you had further information, as I am curious if I should attempt to explore deeper.

Silence overtakes the planning room.  My little office of carved wooden strategic maps and personal notes, filled with the handful of inkrats that I use to keep an eye on things, goes completely still.

Jeorge and Kalip, silently, both straighten up and make for the door.  Before they can make their escape, Yuea’s voice fills the void, words of open steel.  “You didn’t think maybe we should hear about this quickly?”  She asks.

If it were an emergency, of course.  As it stands, it is like telling you about an open window.  Do not throw yourself out of it, of course, but it will not be hunting you down.

”Ash and tar.”  Yuea breathes out, and I can feel similar words echo through Amalgamate Human as she finds a way to swear at me with double the effectiveness.  “I’m going to strangle you.”  She vows.

It likely won’t work.  Does this mean that you don’t know much about the vim process?  I ask because I am rather invested in this mystery, and I think investigating will be difficult if I cannot approach the strange domain safely.

Yuea breathes in, looking like she’s struggling to decide between explosive anger, or quiet anger.  I consider trying to tell her that I really do think that the situation isn’t going to be a problem if we don’t make it worse of our own volition, but I hold back as I have the distinct impression that she wouldn’t listen.

One of the hard parts for both her and Kalip, losing their magetouched status, is that their emotions that they have no practice with are now sharper than ever.  And while I touch gently on her thoughts with Amalgamate Human, I do not press, and leave her space to process.

For Yuea, I think her emotions are especially aggravating.  She is a woman who needs control of herself, and failing to have it only feeds her anger.  Which is why she very quickly grabs her irritation by the throat and chokes it to nothing.  ”Okay.”  Yuea says as she takes a long breath, her hand having cracked bone and wood as she grips the edge of the table.  “Show me where the hole in the floor is.  And next time you discover another giant monster underneath our feet, fucking tell me sooner.”

I will keep that in mind.  I write, as I call guides for her.

”Can I come too?”  Sharpen asks, unheeding any tension in the room.

Yuea suddenly bursts out a laugh.  “Yeah, kid.”  She says, patting the gob on the head, taking advantage of being double Sharpen’s height.  “Come on.  Let’s go… let’s go figure out how fucked we are.”

”Thank you!”  Sharpen’s pleasant tone mirrors my own thoughts as the two follow my resin glimmerlings down to the ground floor of the fort.

It will be nice to have an extra set of eyes for this.  Because I am not sure how to proceed myself, without doing something drastic.

But I am far too curious to let the situation lie fallow below us.