"Even this room is full of old crap!"
A sudden yell broke his daydream. He put his pencil-gadget on a half-finished report that was due two weeks ago, stood up and decided to look through the windows.
Down at the street level Vex had just "won" a fight that he picked himself. After selling a fake treasure map, Vex wanted to part ways with the merchant but his ego decided to give a special introduction before leaving. The merchant looked at the map. It was signed at the bottom.
"Star Lord, Emperor Vortex, the Uniyelding"
Vex had given him the drawing practice map that was used to test Amelie's herbs’ dye compositions.
Previously they bought a treasure map, but neither of them knew how to read it. Vex decided to use it as a template to make and sell fake maps. The duo worked for a whole day, making paper look aged, testing dyes to make maps look authentic. The only mistake Vex made was marking test sheets with his name.
The merchant started arguing and asking for his money back. Vex reused and a fight broke out. The merchant took out a dagger and charged at Vex. It was a drastic decision lead by rapid emotional ups and downs. One second he thought he had won the lottery buying a treasure map for that cheap, next thing he realised he spent his last gold pieces on a useless piece of paper.
Vex didn't even have the time to take his battle stance he usually got into. The type of stance that a person who has never been in a fight would take. The merchant slipped on his second step in a muddy spot and fell down. Before he could even get up a roof tile slid down and dropped directly on his head making a loud “crack” travel through the whole street, stopping the usual buzz of the venue for a second.
The scholar was fascinated.
"I can tell from that stance, that fool can't fight, not to mention he's not even armed. The probability is unreal. I would accept the slip or the tile falling, but both ?"
A wide shouldered middle-aged man dressed in noble attire barged into the room. Opening heavy double doors with force. He saw the young man still looking through the window.
"Hal! Why are you not working on your report ? I had to convince your professor to extend the due date. Do you know how much it cost the estate ?"
"I don't know father, I'd rather hear how many times you did it with her. It's not all bad, at least you enjoyed her young body."
"How do you-"
A grin appeared on Hal's face.
"Or maybe mother should hear that"
The old man lost his nerve.
"Thats enough! That's none of your business. GO FINISH YOUR WORK."
Hal's father stormed out smashing the door closed. A waterfall of dust rushed from the shelves.
People looked up to Hal, on the outside he was a young genius following in his family's footsteps, destined to revolutionize the usage of magic. His peers at university chucked up his class skipping as "more important" work. His neighbors, houseworkers and classmates always came to him for advice. He was sick of his image. One time a particularly annoying butler came to his room for help. It was the straw that broke the camel's back.
"Hal, my dear. I know you're busy but I really need your help. I'm barely getting by and I want to ask your father for a raise. How should I do it?"
At that moment Hal decided that he does not care about the butler one bit. So why can't he just have fun. He put on a convincing face.
"Well, my father is really serious, but he values straight forward statements. You shouldn't dance around it. Just go to his room and ask. Don't waste his time with politeness. If he's silent, tap on your clock to signal that you have nothing else to say. If he asks you questions, don't answer, just tap on your clock again to show him that you're really serious. I think you should do it right now."
The butler thanked Hal and headed to his father's office. A few minutes later Hal heard a window shattering next door and saw the butler laying on the street, surrounded by shattered glass. It brought him immense joy. He wasn't sadistic, he actually enjoyed annoying his father more than screwing over the butler. From that day Hal usually gave mischievously bad advice to people. When they came back he always had prepared a believable excuse.
?????
"Report on the Origins and Classification of Chaos-Derived Effects
True Magic is a rare sight. Old folktails about colorful auras flowing around the world just begging to be used by mages are just myths. There is no "flow" around us or even inside us that we can use to do spectacular things.
It was discovered over a century ago that real magic is stored deep underground. Minerals, or just rocks, as a peasant would say, store a type of variable energy that became known as magic. Unlike in the folk tales, they are not glowing any kind of color or whispering secrets, they're just unsuspecting looking rubble. Two pieces broken from the same vein can behave completely differently: one will store kinetic energy and release it, while another may spit heat hot enough to soften iron. Due to uncertainty of the identical looking minerals' magic type, people began calling them Chaos.
Around 150 years ago came a turning point for technological advancement. Now known as "The Father of Magic" - Holden Raisin, discovered that releasing an electrical charge buildup into Chaos will let out its stored magic. He came upon it completely by accident, while tinkering around with electricity for his amusement. Electricity was discovered even earlier. There is no detailed documentation of the history of its finding as at first it was thought to be useless.
Electricity on its own is mostly useless. It cannot be transported long distances, created efficiently, used for communication or to move things around. Today's technology cannot harvest the raw power of a lightning strike like optimistic scientists dreamed it could. Only applications for pure electricity are mild shock devices, batteries for storage and unreliable lights.
Holden's discovery for both electricity's and Chaos application led to a mining boom. Suddenly new mines and quarries started appearing quicker than you could count them. Getting the rock out of the ground was never the hard part. The real bottleneck was figuring out what each piece actually does. Testing was dangerous, expensive, and too often ended up with someone dead or injured. If not people, whole properties were destroyed. The hazards of testing lead to most applications of magic becoming simple and mundane. Like heating elements for cooking, dyeing water to make ink and just plain old lights.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Contraptions of Chaos fitted with simple electrical parts to release its magic became known as "Artifacts". Inhabitants of Pangea use them everyday without thinking about their magical aspect. An uneducated commoner would think of it more as technology than magic.
Why magic? We cannot explain the minerals' energy. Its origin and technical aspects are still a mystery to this day.
Artifacts today are the most researched type of magic application. There are 2 other types of magic that fit the folktale description more. They are less researched and scientific. All 3 types originate from Chaos.
Three distinct categories of magical expression are currently recognized:
- Artifacts
- True Magic
- Curses
As a man of logic I cannot back down the research on the second and the third type. Further reading requires discretion.
Miners down in their caves would constantly breathe in Chaos dust. The dust ruined their lungs but left something else behind, a kind of seed. Their offsprings gained potential to awaken True Magic. Namesake is due to its application coming from the inside of a person, like in those old tales.
True Magic came from devotion. Potential users had the seed, now they only needed to nurture it into a blossoming flower. If a child poured their whole lifetime into one pursuit, they could make the flower blossom. It took decades and applications were based on the users. A devoted librarian could control the books and even the stories inside them, a swordsman could make his blade dance just by thinking about it.
Due to the extreme conditions, most mages were stiff-jointed and gray-haired by the time they awakened their magic.
The third type- Curses were speculated to also be caused by chaos dust. Currently there is no proof of it. The speculation is based on second and third types' connection to emotion and data linking the majority of them to mining towns- where Chaos dust flowed constantly. Great researchers suggested looking at true magic and curses as two sides of the same coin. If devotion birthed True Magic, then malice made Curses take its shape. With the realization that the origin of these types of magic is Chaos dust, nowadays we clarify that extreme emotional fixation is only a catalyst.
Unlike its counterpart, Curses didn't take ages to develop and affected people from the outside. They weren't realized inside people like True Magic. Negative feelings towards others and a desire to see them suffer in a Chaos filled area Cursed unfortunate ones.
Unlike in folktales, Curses didn't turn people into monsters, but they did affect them both physically and mentally."
"Ech that's enough for today.."
?????
Hal pushed up his glasses and took a sip from the cup carefully placed away from his papers.
"Now let's check out that lucky weirdo."
Vex didn't manage to sell a single map. He was sulking in a tavern, already drunk in the middle of the day. His head laid on a sticky table sideways. Amelie wanted to cheer him up. She jumped around him, lifted his lifeless hands and babbled about how the stars say that they will succeed.
With a sharp pain Vex lifted his head. The words barely came out of his mouth.
"Drink this whole mug in one try, that will cheer me up."
She lifted the giant mug, and started chugging. Half a pint was deadly for her petite build. She suddenly got quiet.
Hal, dressed as a peasant, entered the tavern and took a seat at the table next to Vex. After 7 taverns he finally found the lucky fool.
Hal scanned his surroundings, but it only made him more confused. Noble clothes, scrappy companion, no weapons. Then his eyes locked on to a bunch of papers hanging out of Amelie's backpack. Hal realised those were the papers that made the merchant attack him. From a single glance he deduced.
"Hmmm. Those must be fake maps, but they're really well made. I should use them to conduct my experiment. I have an idea, worst case scenario I'll get a good laugh."
He came up to the drunk duo.
"Hello there. Are you the guys selling the maps ?"
"Yeah and what's it to you, four eyes."
"Did you know that selling counterfeit treasure maps is a punishable offense ?"
"And? You the police ?"
Hal stopped for a second before replying. He had never heard of the word "police" used as a noun. Only an adjective. But he understood what the drunk meant instantly. This only intrigued him further.
"Seargent Hal, you could say I'm from the Law Enforcement unit. I usually take on counterfeit cases"
Vex quickly got up. Thinking he got into a serious situation. Running away from town thugs was one thing, being put in a cell was another. He scratched his head thinking of ways to get out of this situation.
"Well... they are actually art pieces. Me and my apprentice, we make art. We are humble traveling artists. It's not my fault some fool thought it was a treasure map."
Amelie snapped back to reality and started shouting through the whole tavern.
"YEAS, ME LORD IS THE GREATEST ARTIST"
Vex got red out of embarrassment. It was one thing when he did the embarrassing thing, but a completely different story when other people made him feel that way.
Hal had to hide his excitement. He never imagined things would play out so well. He was just at his friends gallery, asking about rumours and learned that tomorrow the gallery is free. He put them in a perfect situation to conduct his experiment. He won both ways. Worst case scenario he gets a good laugh embarrassing the duo while they try to hide their crimes and the gallery owner profits, best case scenario he observes the anomaly of the fools luck.
"You say artists? Lucky for you, my good friend runs a gallery in the neighborhood. He'd gladly put up an exhibition for 20 gold. You may even sell some pieces, lots of wealthy collectors frequent that place."
Vex busted out his worried fake laugh.
"Officer, we'd really love to but we're not into displays"
Vex smiled dearly trying to evade the fake law enforcement. But Amelie, completely drunk, face red as a tomato, started shouting again.
"We'll DO IT. WE'LL SHOW THE WORLD HOW GREAT MY LORDS ART IS"
After humiliating Vex even more she passed out standing. Vex grabbed her and shot straight to the door. Hal quickly took out a gun shaped artifact hiding under his robes and aimed it at the door. An invisible beam shot out, leaving a blueish ring shaped aura around the artifact. Chaos inside the artifact crumbled away into fine dust. The door turned the same blueish hue. Vex tried to open it but it didn't budge. Hal looked at his ruined artifact.
"300 gold wasted on this fool..."
But it didn’t ruin his mood, he slowly stepped towards Vex, skipping out of joy every third step, starting to shake from the excitement. He took out a bracelet from his belt and snapped it onto Vex's hand then he took out a compass looking gadget out of his pocket and twisted it a few turns.
"Your new jewelry is an artifact, it transmits waves to my receiver. If you decide to run I'll know, and my troops will find you. So you better start setting up your gallery."
Vex had never felt this cornered in Pangea. His anger and fear towards the fake officer turned into idiotic confidence fueled by his never-ending ego. He thought to himself.
"I'll show this dog... My exhibition will be the most successful the gallery has ever seen."
Vex's wish was locked in. Hal quickly scribbled and gave him a piece of paper with the details, then knocked on the door 3 times and the door became normal again. Hal turned to Vex before leaving and in a noble condescending tone told him.
"Didn't you know you need to knock before you enter ?"
With a snobbish laugh Hal disappeared into the dimly lit street. Vex, still on all fours, looked at the crisp freshly written note.
"That dumbass I was leaving, why would I knock.”
Amelie lifted her head and scratched it as if a bucket was thrown at it..
"Wha... whaat happened ?"