novelraw Act 3, Chapter 16: Work’s flow
Act 3, Chapter 16: Work’s flow
Day in the story: 6th January (Tuesday), around 9.30 a.m.I missed Paris. It felt like a completely new place on a spiritual level, and I had only scratched the basics of its surface—just the parts of the city that every mundane person sees when they visit from afar. I wanted to get to the bowels of that place, and to the inside-outs of Ideworld there. And since nothing would be keeping me here for now after I was done with my current projects, I’d go there again, get myself some anchor points, and start exploring until I stumbled upon some opening.
Peter left for Quantico this morning, carrying some fantastic signet taken from a treasure room of his Domain. It looked like an Ouroboros eating its own tail, with sapphire lines going along the reptile-like skin. It was an artifact carrying some power he didn’t want to talk about, but it was also an art piece that I painted into my own Spellbook. So whenever he needed help—or even a glorified taxi service—I would be there for him.
Nick was still M.I.A. inside the Domain of his parents, as I’d have to learn to call it soon enough. He’d be turning into a normal human again, which is not bad in short periods of time, as I learned after my confrontation with Eveline last year. But for a prolonged period—or forever? I don’t think I would be able to live like a human ever again.
Jason, my last and biggest worry, seemed to be doing his own things, going completely off my radar for better or worse—but I expected the latter. I fucking always expect the latter, when two outcomes are possible.
Better to be pleasantly surprised than the other way around.
That was actually the reason for what I’d been doing right now as well. Inside a closed-off container, with a breathing mask on to avoid inhaling too much of the spray particles, Liora and I were painting the interior to look like one of those tunnels in oceanariums, the kind that run underneath the aquarium so you can watch all the fish swimming around you. Liora proved to be a great reference painter. I brought an animal atlas just for him so he could look at some deep-sea creatures and paint them over the sea background I was finishing on one side.
It gave me a creative idea to follow. I’d make my own bestiary of sorts, for all the amazing and fantastical animals and other creatures I’d met or fought within Ideworld. Something purely artistic that could satisfy my need for novelty. Recreating those impossible biologics and anatomies might be exactly what I needed to advance my soul core again. Something that seemed to take me much longer than the two previous ones, since after a week of fighting, painting, or doing other art-related activities, I could proudly say that my essence was one whole percent full. I needed just ninety-nine more weeks like that to advance. Which amounts to what? About two years?
Oh no. No. I’d speed it up somehow. Maybe even with that side project I was already doing.
I envisioned it as something of a dump, to be honest. A pretty artistic representation of the ocean behind glass, meant to swallow my opponent’s last hopes as I sent them there. I figured that no matter how powerful a mage can be, most—if not all—of them require some breathing, and the immense pressure of the ocean would still crush them or their lungs as they decided to somehow get out of the container and swim toward the surface.
Maybe Peter could survive it with his Domain, but he wasn’t the target audience for that.
Joan believed one hundred percent that I would send them where they asked me to, but I could have just as easily chosen this place instead, if it was ready. What good would their powers be to help them escape is just my guess. I might still find myself in a situation that could use a dump like this, and so I was finally preparing one.
Having proper tools, knowing the place and the people. Timing, schedules, habits, blind spots of the system and of people alike—all of that fell under that blanket word: preparation. It’s something that Penrose taught me from my youngest years. A good thief always has a backup plan, and another one if that fails as well. And only when everything failed did improvisation take center stage. I was good at that too, because in truth it relied on quickly identifying patterns of previous plans that might work in a new situation and applying them with the least amount of changes necessary. Deviations could alter the course of action so significantly that the outcome would become even more unpredictable.
“Good job, Lio.” I told him as he finished painting a whale in the great distance, its silhouette suggesting vastness in the background of the ocean. I wanted everything in here to be dark, with just enough light to hint at the shapes of things lurking below.
I also asked Sophie for another container yesterday. That one would serve an entirely different purpose. Too many powerful people knew where I lived, and even though I hadn’t invited them in—and thus denied them access to my Domain as far as I understood the process—I didn’t feel safe. Not at all. The other container would act as an anchor for my true soul home, and I would hide it somewhere even I couldn’t find.
It felt like the only way to be sure.
**********
“Thank you, friend.” I told my cloud serpent, sending him away into the Domain. He seemed to like being there more and more every day. It’d grown substantially, and all the trees made it much more fun for him to run and fly around.
I opened the big doors of the container to the intrusive light of New York’s port. The weather was nice in the sense that the sky was clear, but it was chilly outside. It didn’t seem to bother the workers going about their day.
One of them came up to me with a cigarette in his mouth as soon as I stepped out.
“Done?” he asked, puffing smoke into the air.
“Yes. You can load it onto the ship,” I answered. “When does it leave?”
“Eee. Tomorrow. By the morning it’ll be in the open.”
“Thanks. Take care.” I said, closing the doors behind me with a lever.
Sophie arranged for it to be taken and dropped somewhere along the way to Europe, out in the ocean, just like I asked. It had a transponder on it so we could check whether they’d done it as instructed.
I needed to be sure, after all. When dealing with powerful mages, it’s better to be safe rather than sorry if they burst out on top of some other ship or in some distant port.
With that done, I went directly into my Domain and moved to one of the marble benches on the outskirts of my small settlement. I sat down and, with a thought, created a desk in front of me in a similar style. I summoned my Spellbook and began putting the image of my deep-sea trap onto its pages.
While my body and biological brain worked in tandem to create the piece, I used the other one to focus on what Liora was seeing inside the Domain. He darted onto the trees and the grass and between the branches, and my thoughts drifted to the nature of it all.
“My soul created life!” I exclaimed. “It’s plant life, but it’s another life all the same. Is it real?”
[Of course it’s real.]
“I mean, do those trees, the grass, and everything else have their own souls?”
[I have no idea. Probably? Doesn’t everything have one?]
“Maybe they are extensions of my own? Hell. This is so strange. Should I introduce some animal life in here? How does one even go about creating a sustainable ecosystem?”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
[I am not the one to ask about it.]
“Yeah, Nick would be better. There are so many animals in Peter’s Domain. They too could be products of his Domain, or maybe someone put them there. Leben mentioned that animals can boost resonance as well, if they align with the melody of the Domain.”
[Are you going to walk around and send critters into your own Domain?]
“No, I don’t think so. I’d have to provide food for them and care for them. It needs to be self-sustainable, or I’ll become overworked quickly.”
[Can’t one of your planned bodies take care of it?]
“Probably. Would I put that onto myself?”
[You probably would, if you had something to gain from it.]
“I am not that transactional. Am I?”
[I’d prefer not to answer. I am looking forward to my own bodies.]
I laughed, finishing painting the background at the same time.
**********
I’d been sitting in the comfortable tattoo chair in the salon while Daisy worked on my leg.
“I don’t like not paying for that,” I said to her.
“Your money would just be difficult to turn into mine, and what you gave me last time was worth more than I inked onto you.”
“I don’t think so,” I replied, looking at the sixth of the small spiders on my leg. Each of them was black, light reflecting slickly off their carapaces. Each had a closed eye socket on its abdomen. She made them look like they were really on my skin, just standing there, looking menacing.
“It’s true, but if you insist—which is strange for a thief—”
“I should have never told you who I am.” I was bored and had shared some vague facts about myself with her the last time I was here.
“My charm is too strong. People always tell me their dirty secrets. Why do you think it’s called Secrets of the Skin?”
“Aren’t all tattoo shops called like that?” she laughed.
“I like you, girl. I really like you. But you interrupted me. I was telling you that if you insist, you can let me have a favor I could call in later on.”
“I am no demon. I don’t deal in favors, Daisy. That’s not how it works. You tell me what you need, and I will decide if I do this.”
“Fine,” she said, finishing the last line. “And done.”
“Would you like to see?” I asked her as she put away the pistol.
“You bet,” she replied, and I let my Authority settle within the fresh ink. I asked them to become my sp-eye-ders—something I had envisioned one night with strong enough confidence that my intent would make them real.
As shadowlight settled within them, they skittered inside the frame of my skin, hiding under my clothes.
“Bitchin’,” she said. “What about the eyes?”
I directed one of them with a thought to crawl toward the back of my neck, where it settled, spreading its legs. As it stopped moving, the eye on top of its back opened, showing a green, anatomically human eye inside, with a broken crevice over the iris, revealing that they held the power of the Shattered. It followed the whims of my mind with the precision of my own biological set.
“Spooky,” Daisy said, looking at it from her own chair set to the highest possible position. “You can see through it?”
“That’s the idea.”
**********
“I am looking for a bike for myself, Malik,” I said, sitting against his tree-grave. It was colder now—like a regular tree—although the shadowlight of his colors still shone from the leaves or branches now and then, giving me at least some reminder of how he was.
I browsed the offers on my phone, finding it hilarious that the net worked in here, in a place that was clearly stretched to the maximum by some form of magic.
“I want it fast, but also handmade, in a sense. Something made by an artist and not a factory.”
I swiped away another one with flames painted on the frame. It was dull and unimaginative. I wanted something with style. Something I’d be able to declare art and summon back and forth with the help of my Domain. I wasn’t going to learn how to permanently paint on bikes when so many already custom-made ones existed.
“It’s either fire and skulls or some gold bling. Can’t find anything breathtaking, man,” I spoke into the air, hoping he’d catch some of it. “I have a problem with Jason again. He went into your Domain and came out changed—or was changed already by the Shattered. It’s really difficult to tell, and I don’t like being side-blinded by something coming from him.”
I stumbled upon some custom-made cycle that was gilded like the ones before, but this one had more finesse in it. Most of the colors were deep blue and cyan, representing the skyline, while gold elements showed parts of New York City: the Chrysler Building as an exhaust pipe, wheels engraved with Manhattan buildings, executed with such precision that individual building windows were visible. Ignition coil covers shaped like the Oculus with dove-like wings. This was it. Exactly what I was looking for.
“I don’t know what to do about him. He seems like his old self, in a sense, and someone using your Domain can’t really be a bad person, can he? You were good to the very bone. Up to the very moment it killed you. You two couldn’t be more different from each other, now that I think about it.”
I sent the offer to Sophie, asking her to finalize it. I wanted that bike for myself.
“Jason was given almost everything. Rich, handsome, secure for life—and yet he is profoundly dissatisfied with all of it. To the point that he left his high-society room empty of any mementos. He seems to search for reasons to be miserable, unable to find meaning in a life that has been generous to him. You, by contrast, were dealt a cruel hand from the start. Absent parents. A brother you loved who drifted away. Life in poverty, in a gang-ridden neighborhood. And yet, despite all of this, Malik, you were searching for a way to live—not merely to survive, but to make yours and everyone’s life better. In that sense, your lives are opposites of one another.”
I put the phone inside my purse and relaxed, looking at all of the trees symbolizing dead mages.
“How come he was accepted to follow in your footsteps? Is there something else that makes you two similar?”
“Domains work in mysterious ways.”
A voice came from my right, from behind the tree, and I immediately rolled away and onto my feet, supporting myself with one arm. My Usagear materialized underneath my clothing, with the mask drawn over my face and the hood sticking out, ears twitching, moved by a slight breeze. Ghostflame shone brightly with a green, ghastly light directed at the source—at someone who, despite all of my sharpened senses, managed to sneak up on me.
“Excuse me, love. Didn’t want to scare you,” the man said. He held a simple rake in his arms, using it like a cane to lean against, his chin resting on top of both hands that were firmly set against the butt of the thing. It was the same man with Korean features that I’d seen here before, during Malik’s funeral.
I relaxed a bit, standing up fully and sending my suit and weapon away.
“You snuck up on me. Didn’t expect to be surprised like that.”
“Surprises are hardly ever expected.”
“True. We meet for the second time, today,” I told him. He seemed to grow absent-minded for a moment—was it grief? It was hard to tell. His eyes went unfocused, as if he were looking through the place rather than at it.
“It’s hard to count,” he replied.
“Hard to count whom you meet?” I asked, thrown by the odd answer.
“And how many times. Both the living and the dead—sometimes it’s difficult to tell who is who at a given moment.”
Judging by how it had carved hollows into his gaze, his job was not something I’d ever wish on anyone.
“What I wanted to say is that my name is Jess Hare. Jessica Hare.”
“Do-yun Jeon,” he replied, smiling back at me, his eyes sharpening again as they found mine. “Lovely to meet you again.”
“Likewise. Can you tell me—what did you mean about Domains? Are you a mage?”
“I was.”
“Was?”
“Yes. My Domain was destroyed some time ago. I’m a warlock now.”
“I’m not exactly an expert on etiquette,” I said carefully. “Can I ask whom you’re bound to, or is that in bad taste?”
“It’s very bad taste. Most warlocks won’t even admit they are locks, let alone disclose to whom, if asked.”
“But you will?”
“No. I’m like most in that regard. I was just over-sharing. I enjoy it from time to time, when someone’s willing to listen.”
“You’ve got my attention. So—what was that thing about Domains?”
“Sometimes what connects people isn’t obvious at first glance. I overheard what you said to your dead friend. Maybe the sheer fact of being broken was enough for the Domain to accept both of them.”
“The one who died was a sourcerer. The second joined after the originator passed.”
“The Soul Core found him worthy of a trial. If he passed, then there was something in him the Domain found worth reflecting upon.”
“Curious choice of words.”
“How so?”
“Never mind. How do you know all this?”
“I speak with many mages here. In the moment they realize their power means nothing against time or death, they open up. It eases their suffering a little. I’m here to listen—and to give direction, if needed.”
“Makes sense.”
“Have you lost anyone besides Malik?” he asked, and something in my mind warned me to tread carefully.
“How do you know his name?” I countered.
He smiled and pointed at the bark of the tree. I followed his gesture, reluctantly, keeping him in the corner of my vision. A small wooden plaque was set into the trunk, Malik’s name carved into it.
“Oh,” I said. “Yes. My parents. Both of them. A long time ago.”
“Not many memories left?”
“Almost none,” I answered, just as my phone started buzzing. I expected Sophie, but it was Caroline Jackson.
“Please excuse me,” I said, and he drifted away, raking leaves that vanished with each smooth motion of the tool.
“Caroline?”
“Jess. We’ve found a trace of your friend’s killer. I’m going to investigate. Join me at headquarters as soon as you can.”
“I’ll be there shortly,” I said, and ended the call.
“I’m needed elsewhere. It was good to talk for a bit,” I told Do-yun.
“Break a leg!” he called after me, waving with forced lightness. I was certain he craved conversation. There was an unmistakable solitude clinging to him, despite the fact that he was one of the most handsome men I’d ever met.
It seemed that every one of us was broken in some way.
Was that the requirement to be a person in this world?