Ideworld Chronicles: The Art Mage

Act 3, Chapter 21: Calm

Day in the story: 7th January (Wednesday), around 4 a.m.Somehow those stupid skinheads never saw us leave, or they just didn’t care enough to follow us. Yet we still ran into the night through deserted parts of Staten Island. Trees surrounded us with shadows cast by them, the clouds, or the night itself. Cold air clung to the skin and made the usually invisible breath into a spectacle of cloud-like particles.

Led by Loki’s exquisite sense of smell, we pathed through this brief wilderness that somehow survived the ever-hungry maws of urbanization, until we met the beast itself, when the now-black greenery gave way to the small buildings of a semi-industrial area of the island. It was only then that Loki—and in consequence we as well—slowed down to assess the situation.

“Goldilocks needs a second to catch a scent, there are many more of them here,” Caroline spoke in a hushed tone, while she slowly and carefully turned around to check our surroundings. A few closed stores, a mechanic shop, some kind of warehouse, and a street with just one homeless person under a heavy blanket. An older man sleeping near a smoldering metal barrel.

I came over to him and called for my fiery bedsheet from the Domain, removing the ever-burning Authority from within as it landed on the man.

“What are you doing!?” Caroline hissed, as it covered the man whole, leaving only his head out.

“I considered sending him into my Domain briefly, for some reason. Mind you, I am not a good Samaritan—usually. But fortunately my better senses spoke over the insane voice in my soul that speaks for the poor and unfortunate.”

“What are you babbling about?” she asked, as I told the blanket to become pleasantly warm. It was a bit of a stretch, but apparently my sense of what’s right in the art and what’s not was enough for verisimilitude to lend this identity to the sheet.

“He will be warm now. This is the best I can give him right now.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, Jess,” she said, and we resumed walking. Slower now, as Loki’s movements were more careful. She sniffed the air often, trying to catch the scent and reorient herself, while we followed her.

“What do you think of Robert Reyes?” I asked Caroline, coming closer. Curiosity and boredom got the better of me, what can I say?

“It ain’t my job to understand him, just to find him.”

“I get that, but I am asking about your personal opinion. If we are to work together, I’d rather know you as a person than the officer.”

She exhaled deeply before answering. “I will start somewhere else before I get to him, okay?”

“Sure,” I answered, unsure what she meant, while Loki led us through a narrow path between two brick-built buildings. They smelled of dump and wet concrete, maybe mold too? It was difficult to tell without an enhanced nose.

“Here it comes,” Loki murmured under her muzzle.

“Loki, please.”

“What did she mean by that?” I asked.

“She thinks that I like to moralize people or… dogs for that matter, but it’s not what I was going to say. I think that most people are really simple—they do not like to be the ones making choices. And right now the world doesn’t ask if we want to make them; it offers them in spades at every corner. What to eat, what to wear, where to go, what to watch, whom to follow, where to work, what to study, whom to vote for. Life for people used to be simpler once. We woke up, we gathered food or hunted, and we ate what we found. We lived in smaller communities.”

“I didn’t know you lived that long,” I joked, but she responded with a kind smile instead.

“So now people are overwhelmed with everything, and their response is to get between two walls, living in a simple tunnel instead of an open plain where they could go anywhere. Someone offers them a philosophy and a ready-to-implement belief system, they jump on that wagon immediately, because it’s easier to live that way.”

“I told you,” Loki said.

“Smart dog,” I answered.

“Yes, she is. Nosy too, while she should focus on using that nose for something else.” Loki turned around happily once and resumed following the scent. “I am like that too unfortunately. I’d much rather be led than do the leading, but I do what I have to. And so I think that Reyes is a person like that as well. He joined the gang young—did you know that? The same one his father was part of. But before that he tried being a DJ at clubs and was rejected. It seems to me that life forced a certain path on him and he accepted, because it made it easier for him—having goals and being seen, being good at something. That’s all important to each and every one of us.”

“That’s true.”

“Maybe most of us,” she corrected herself, looking me up and down and stopping a bit longer at my hair.

“I have my reasons,” I answered, skipping all the pretense. It was obvious what she was speaking about, but she was fair enough not to press. I had to admit that. “Guild is not exactly something that I can outwardly trust with myself.”

“I understand that as well. I hope that one day, I ain’t the guild for you, but a Carol.”

“We will see about that,” I answered truthfully.

“I was more trusting. Nah. I still am a more trusting person than you, although my life hadn’t been easy. People like to pretend that there is equality in everything now, and maybe it is, or maybe it is better, but when I was a kid, it wasn’t easy at all. I lived with my mother—my father died a soldier in some dust-covered shithole. We got that fantastic piece of a flag to show for it, and some mementos that meant absolutely nothing for me. He’s the one that I got my Domain from. He was always a pack kind of guy, so an army seemed like a good idea, especially if you are bulletproof to most conventional weapons. Stepping on a landmine was, however, good enough to turn him into an empty corpse, after he was torn into two halves.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“And yet I kind of followed in his footsteps, didn’t I? I just call a different uncle Sam than the jarheads.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t particularly trust you.”

“I understand that. Your dress-up is pretty good too—I wouldn’t notice myself. It was Loki who told me that you are wearing fake hair. Only then did I realize that Jessica Rabbit was an inspiration for the person you are.”

“That’s true.”

“Let’s leave it, though. I truly don’t care what your name is, where you live, or what you do when you ain’t with me. At least for now. But I’d like to trust you when we are together, so don’t play me for a fool, and we will be fair and square. Is that right?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Caroline.”

“When you say it like that.” She said, turning her head in disapproval. “Never mind.” She added, while she squeezed after Loki between two particularly close walls. I followed, trying not to catch my clothing on any of the sticking-out fragments of the metallic fence we passed. “So, my father died, and we moved from a good place into a worse neighborhood. The one where people forget about manners, and mean is the face you see on people different than myself. I hated that. Some of them treated me like a literal dog. Pushed me around, shouted at me for trying to be somewhere where apparently I wasn’t supposed to be. And I don’t know if that’s what helped me get access to the Domain, or if it was the crystal my father left me.”

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“Maybe both.” I suggested.

“Most likely both, yes. I worked hard to get good grades. Joined the police K9 unit, and later on the Guild, when I was approached by them.”

“They recruited you?”

“Yes. My pops was registered, and when they found out I joined law enforcement, they reached out.”

“We are close,” Loki said silently. “Very.”

“Why did you decide to join? You didn’t strike me like someone doing this for other people, and then you pull off this thing with the warm blanket. You are kind of a mystery to me.”

“That’s good. I don’t want to be understood or seen, like you’ve put it. And no, I am not a selfless person by nature. At least I wasn’t up until recently.”

“I don’t get what you are saying.”

“It’s complicated. I might share more later if we ever get closer. I joined for myself—for my understanding of magic and how to control it. What forces are there at play and who has the best toys. I felt like I could get that information reliably only in the Guild.” She confirmed with a grunt while we emerged onto some street where all of the lamp-posts were off for some inexplicable reason. The house at the end was pretty big and surrounded by a concrete wall. “Like the way you coat the weapon with shadowlight—I’d like to learn how to do that, what it actually does, and what else I can do with that weird light.”

“That fits,” she replied, motioning with her chin toward the house I mentioned. “Loki says that the scent leads there.”

“Are we going, or calling for cavalry?”

“Let’s check first. It’s our job to confirm he is there.” She replied, and we moved slowly. “Shadowlight control is not an easy thing to learn, but it allows you to move Authority from within yourself to outside, making weapons, armor, or even skin more durable or able to hurt things that would normally be unharmed by a naked blade. It being outside is also better at absorbing hits than being inside, unless it’s not a physical thing that attacks you.”

“I get it. How can you do it?”

“You just need to realize that your Authority lies not only in having power over artistic creation, but over yourself too. It works like that already, making you stronger, faster, and more perceptive than a regular human. Protecting you from harm from other mages.”

“So I should just say with confidence some combat phrase like: coat myself. And it would work?”

“You can say it, but it sounds weird to announce your intent that way. You can think it, or just do it with your soul, but as I said, it’s not an easy thing to do. One should have great control over yourself—over your needs, goals, and things as such. People meditate for years to understand and accept—in my case—that they have a choice in everything they are and can change themselves that way.”

“Seriously?” I asked, extending my hand with an open palm directed skyward. I let what she said sink in. I am who I choose to be. It has always been this way.

“What the—” Caroline wanted to say, but the words got stuck in her mouth. My hand and arm were perfectly coated with shadowlight for a brief moment before I let it slip into me again.

“Sorry, didn’t want to make a lightshow, but I had to try. It’s not that difficult when you know what the trick is. Thanks.”

“You can’t be serious. You knew how to do that before, right?”

“No. Just learned it.” I replied truthfully for once. I was glad that some revelations were as simple as that, so I let myself smile.

“No, you didn’t.” She stopped, and consequently Loki did as well, looking back at me.

“Yes.”

“Fuck. I can’t believe it. I am still not the best at it. I would not be able to do that while not in a stressful situation, and it took me years of meditation to reach that point. Daily fucking meditation on the nature of myself. And I probably still have a long way to go to just casually cover myself with shadowlight like you did right now.” She spiraled talking more to herself than me, as she looked at her hands with fingers spread apart in front of her.

“Sorry, but it truly is easy. I am Jess now. I chose who Jess is, and she is that way because I envisioned her and let her live in my mind long before she was a physical person. I choose what to wear, what makeup to put on, what to draw, paint. Whom to hate, love, trust, and distrust. I choose everything.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.” She replied, her mouth slightly open, still in disbelief. “I always thought that fate, my history, or other factors have a big influence over me.”

“Oh. I don’t believe in that crap in the slightest. Destiny, star-crossed love. Some cosmic entity rolling the dice for me. Of course I couldn’t control everything that happened in my life—no one can. But it was always me who decided to do something and be something, no one else.”

“You speak like some ancient sage right now. Are you one in hiding? Is that why you are changing how you look?” I laughed.

“No, silly. I am definitely not that. I just hit the jackpot this time. I struggle with other things. Identity and decisions are easy for me.” Giving unbound authority is a nightmare though, but I would not tell her that. I’d much rather let her think that I was awesome.

She just stood there, completely frozen, suddenly unable to speak.

„So what’s the plan, oh my captain?” I asked her after few seconds to shake off the shock she was in. I wanted to just march into that house, but I also knew that that was the worst possible thing to do. So once again I chose to act differently—to rely on my experiences. A thief always needs to scout first, search for the paths, possible problems, escape routes, and anything out of the ordinary that could be used for and against you. The detective’s work wasn’t much different in that regard, so it had been easy to fall into that pattern of thinking.

“Loki will go invisible and sneak inside for us while we wait outside.” She replied and moved aside, dropping on her ass behind a parked van around fifty yards away from the house we’d found.

“May I propose something else?”

“May you? This is not a kindergarten, Jess. We’re supposed to be partners. Spill.”

“I can send reconnaissance of painted senses inside.”

“What? How?”

“Can you wait about fifteen minutes? Give or take.”

“Sure. Do what you have to do.”

I dropped to my knees and opened my bag right as it materialized around my waist, with the rest of my belt and grimoire. Spray cans clinked together, as I picked one and shook it. The street became my canvas; the asphalt a sheet of black in the night. I applied the first strokes down in velvety black, and my hands answered with a soft glow of shadowlight—webbing of the light-threads between my fingers, answering a call I just learned to make—to illuminate the workspace.

Lines curled and met and decided they were legs. A body followed, totally round and glossy. The spider took shape as if it had always been hiding in the road and I was merely brushing away the boring reality on top of it. I added fussy little details: needle hairs, shy highlights, a glimmer of reflected moon that wasn’t actually there above us. I just felt like it needed to be there. Its abdomen I painted wrong on purpose, stretching and twisting it into the unmistakable shape of a human ear with all ridges and folds that came with I; but made in chitin. It was the cephalothorax where I placed a bright, watchful eye.

The moment the last line kissed the pavement, I poured my Authority into the drawing. The paint shivered as the colors deepened, sucking in my shadowlight, and then—

It twitched—a genuine, staggered wiggle. The legs played a trick of perception on us, making us think that they peeled themselves off the asphalt, while in truth they stayed contained in the flat medium.

“It moved.” Loki exclaimed happily, wagging her tail.

“Of course it moved,” I said softly.

The world shrank a bit and sharpened in one of my view feeds. Cracks in the road became bigger; pebbles became rocks in that perspective. I fed it a single, simple command as I let the spider carry my senses—search the house.

“That indeed seems safer, but I ain’t seein’ nothin’, Jess.”

“Oh. Good point.” I answered her, as my artistic brain was working in an overtime mode. While my first masterpiece skittered toward the building, I began painting a sequel. Something suggested by that artificial mind stored within my Domain. A form I’d seen once in Caroline’s presence; an amalgam of eyes and cameras hovering outside the Solitary Twin and my current inspiration for changes of form. This arachnid I painted with cooler tones—silvers and brushed-metal greys—like a spider assembled by an engineer. Instead of an eye, I drew a neat little camera lens, complete with a reflective gleam.

I flipped open my spellbook next and grabbed my watercolor pens. On two blank pages, I doodled an approximation of a computer screen with buttons, frame and a little fake glare line for verisimilitude’s satisfaction. I reached toward both the spider and the screen with my aura, enforcing the connection between them.

“Still new at this,” I admitted and the very next second, the spider crawled after its brother into the house at the end of the street, and my drawn screen flickered awake, showing a jittery, low-to-the-ground view of the world with sound included, played directly from within the pages.

“I ain’t going to lie, that’s impressive.” She told me and sat down to watch, while I began painting two more camera spiders with one brain to coordinate that, and my biological one focused on the first arachnid that slid under the gate and crawled over the pavement inside toward the three wooden stairs leading into the place. “Aren’t they goin’ to stop when the street ends?”

“No, I am sure that as long as there is one unbroken flat surface they can move inside it.”