Arcane Tangle

"Is there..." he panted, "a way out of here?"

She tossed hair away from her face. She walked straight for the nearest window, overcame its resistance to open, and looked down. It was a long way down, way too long for his ladder, and way too long for a telekinetically softened fall.

He read that in her eyes, and his brain whirred.

"This attic must connect to the medieval wing somehow, right? The buildings are the same height..." He didn't wait for her answer; he rushed around the partition walls, through several similar cluttered spaces, until finally at the end of the attic he came face to face with a blank, whitewashed wall.

Before he was done swearing, she was by his side. She sidestepped an old desk and placed her hand on the wall. She closed her eyes, and let her consciousness expand through.

It seeped into the masonry: cool, dry, grainy. And uniform; no brick here, only away to the sides, where the weight of the roof was carefully borne. Her thought refocused, and went right through, and she glimpsed the space on the other side, as if recalled indistinctly from a dream - a dark, old, mouldy space. A safe space.

She opened her eyes and knocked on the wall.

"This is just plaster. We can get you through." He squinted, uncertain.

Doesn't it make you laugh when, in popular plays and novels and the like, a wizard character just casually walks through a wall whenever the plot demands it? It's like the authors never tried it in real life. Even, say, the paper walls on thin wooden frameworks that they have at these fancy exotic pavilions that keep popping up in public parks nowadays - have you ever tried to pass through these using magic? I mean, it's doable, but it's a work-out. It takes a lot more energy than if you just smashed right through (do not do that, people get angry).

Because a wall is a wall, dammit. Its core concept, especially when it bears no load, is to be a barrier. And magic bloody well springs from core concepts. If you go against a thing's very intent, then you better power the fuck up. If you want a wall broken down, use a sledgehammer, not a wand.

Well, you can kind of use both. There was a very heavy cupboard right behind Niko and Diane. They were strong enough mages to lift it in the air together and smash it right through. If you never studied at Vallnord, this might even seem like a good idea. So let me just quickly fill you in on what would have happened next.

The Department of Divination is literally just next door. On hearing the ruckus and discovering the scene, it would take the caretaker approximately fifteen minutes to fetch someone - probably Professor Harzatt, a gaunt, six-foot-five man with lengthy grey hair and a short grey stubble. It would take twenty minutes for the professor to take his hands off the freshly wrecked cupboard, sniff, sigh, and say: "a boy and a girl, lovers, making their escape." It would take seventy minutes to have all the students lined up in front of the Entrance Hall. Professor Harzatt would walk along that row in uncomfortable silence, not looking at them but up and away to the side, as if trying to catch some faint distant sound. It would take seventy-three minutes for him to stop right in front of Diane, settle his pale eyes at some point an inch behind her skull, and in his quiet, calm, gravelly voice pronounce: "this one." It would take seventy-five minutes for his very long finger to point directly at Niko's forehead, and for the same voice to say, "and this one."

It would take an additional two seconds for Proctor Superior Kadar to expel both of them from the Academy. It would take one or two years and some sound legal fees to strike their names off the ministerial blacklist and perhaps find some entry-level jobs in magic after all.

It was not enough that Niko got out of there. He had to leave without a trace. Which brings us back to the problem of the wall.

All things considered, it certainly did help that it was thin. It made the whole thing at least somewhat realistic. Still though, a lot of energy had to be channelled with high precision here.

"With a focus, this would be kind of doable, right?" he thought aloud. Her brow furrowed. She'd been thinking in that direction too. Just the day before, out of curiosity, she very easily brought a whole pot of water to a boil, using her brass frog as a focus no less. If only she had a powerful enough object on her hands right now... "What about all this junk?" he looked around, both of them evidently still boarded on the same train of thought. "There's got to be something good enough in here..."

She doubted it. It was unlikely that anyone stashed anything inspiring up here. A focus used for serious magic had to be an object with strong magical potency. An object with definitive significance to it, perhaps of great beauty, or of value, or simply highly attuned to magic...

Ah.

"You," she said.

"What?" Her eyes fixed on him, she patted him along his arms, as if sizing him up.

"Your body. I can use your body as a focus." Her patting became quicker and more... enthusiastic? "Yes, of course I can do this. Can I?"

"I..." What she was saying did, theoretically speaking, make sense. Using another person's body as a focus is pretty much the foundational concept of two different disciplines of magic - both of which were for obvious reasons not legal to teach, but of which everyone was still aware. One of these disciplines is sex magic. The other one... okay, let's not bring up the other one.

(It's blood magic. See, you didn't want that brought up.)

"How... how would that work?" he asked. If he hadn't known that she always kept calm, he would have sworn that she was nervous.

"I'm... when someone has an orgasm, their sexuality kind of sharpens into this concrete magical structure, right?" He nodded. They did actually dabble in sex magic before, their first time having technically been a ritual to help them along with their alchemy class, but that had been way simpler than this. "I'm going to attune to you, and then I'll make you come... and in that moment, I'll channel through you. Through that... structure. It's a very powerful thing, I'm sure that I can..." she stopped, listening for distant footsteps. Rarely frequented as the attic was, they weren't safe here. And the alarm would probably be going back up soon.

He looked at her. She certainly took her time to research some stuff she wasn't supposed to be researching. What she was asking right now was to let her expand her awareness into his body, to harness his sexual self for her magic. This sounded scarily intimate. But it also sounded really hot. And, well, not like there were any better ideas.

"Okay," he said.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Alright, so..." So. How do you begin? "Okay, so kneel here..." she turned him around to face the wall and crouched, hugging him from behind. She undid his belt buckle and slid her hand into his boxers. The other hand moved over his frame, and she felt into him, into... the velvet jacket, the cotton shirt...

"Um," she said. "Actually, it would be better if you were naked. I must feel you clearly."

"Yeah." He reached for his neck, but suddenly turned around with an unexpected smirk. "And what about you? Are you going to do sex magic in a collared shirt, like some sort of a degenerate?"

She breathed in to reply, but then shut her mouth with a click of teeth. He actually made a good point. If you're going to do magic, you should dress accordingly.

A short moment later he knelt again, and she crouched behind him again, and this time they were properly attired, her hair tie the only thing worn between the two of them. Her hand went over his chest, and this time she felt the warmth of his skin, the eagerness of the flesh, the quickening heartbeat. He cleared his throat. They both cleared their throats. She took his soft cock between her finger and her thumb, and closed her eyes...

The body has many aspects of course, but few are as prominent as the sexual. As her awareness sank into him, she discerned it immediately. It was subdued now, sitting low in his loins, brought down by the anxiety of their flight. But its thirst had been whetted by the interrupted sex; and his body felt its own nakedness; and it considered this attic somewhat safe, at least for now; and it sensed the touch of another naked body, a female body...

And as she gazed into that ancient force, she felt it turn and gaze directly into her.

Along his spine it brightened, an ethereal heliotrope glow. He sighed softly, and she felt his cheek jolt in a slight smile. Under her fingers, his cock twitched.

She prepared herself. There's always some resistance when you attune to something. Even crystals will put up a little bit of tension as you weave into their lattice and slide through their cool, hard even-ness. And something as vulnerable and intimate as the human sexual side - she wasn't really sure what to expect here. It would shy away, put up barriers, need to be coaxed and cajoled. And in all honesty, now that she was about to come into magical contact with this force, she was a little hesitant too - so deep and ancient and personal it was. But there was no time. She extended her awareness closer, towards that liquid radiance. The swelling of Niko's shaft was slowly prying her fingers open; there was now enough length to grab it with the whole hand. The glow within him was also growing, climbing up his nerves. Her mind paused for one final moment, reached in, and made contact... and within a single heartbeat, it was pulled in whole.

He suddenly felt an undefined feeling of greater togetherness, and out of nowhere she gasped and hugged him tighter. He hardened rapidly in her hand.

It was not like attuning to crystals at all. It was like being suddenly swept into a warm river. It was a sudden leap of joy, a sense of being exactly in the right place, exactly at the right time, doing exactly the right thing. He was so completely willing to let her into him, so inviting and responsive...

She'd read about directly working someone's sex energy, in yellowed books from more openminded times. Somehow, she wasn't prepared for it feeling just this good. She was expecting more of a steady warmth, like working a low fire or something, not this butterflies-in-the-head, impossible-to-think-straight euphoria. The raw sensation was so strong it was a wonder anyone could even do magic in this state—

Oh, right. Magic. In front of them, the wall stood blankly, in all its gypsum implacability. She forced a part of her mind away from the playful, vibrant Niko, and onto that stolid barrier. She gave it a mental push. It was, magically speaking, very strong. But the tools that she had were also very strong.

She tightened her grip on his cock. Never had any mage wielded a more beautiful staff, a thought occurred. Her finger reached for his nipple, and as it circled around the delicate skin he moaned, and there was an immediate surge in the glow, twin fires now crackling in his underbelly and in his chest. She bit down on her lip and her other thumb explored his glans. She could see it clearly now, see which exact touches stoked his flames most. She found his sweet spot, right behind the ridge, and rubbed her thumb against it.

He whimpered quietly with every breath now, and his back arched a little. The centre of his glow brightened to a white, and she instinctively knew that he was on the verge. She realised that she now had the precise, exact control to keep him right on the edge. Good, she needed his arousal strong, very strong. She kissed him on the neck and turned back to the wall.

Look at how trusting he is. He came here on her invitation, he is her guest, he is under her protection. The wall's purpose needs to be overruled to keep him safe. She aimed these arguments at the magical latticework of reality which surrounded her, tried to push them against the wall's purpose. The softness of his voice sharpened her resolve. Yet she knew intuitively that she was angling wrong. The wall owed them no kindness.

"Ah," the voice broke in his throat. He was just a heartbeat from coming undone. She lifted her thumb from his cock, and his arousal subsided right from the threshold. Her fingers were soaked with his precum, and she was herself about to drip all over the floor. He really should try to be less mind-numbingly delightful; it was so difficult to focus the wall. She should probably be touching it, but both her hands were full of Niko— wait. How silly of her, a boy is a focus best wielded not in the hands.

He suddenly found himself grabbed by the shoulders and laid on his back, with his head towards the wall. Without a word she climbed on top of him, took him right inside her, and her limbs wrapped themselves like ivy all around him. She buried her face in his neck, reached out, and her fingertips rested on the wall.

"Don't move," she muttered. She sensed his nerves sing a different song - her hand had felt nice, but her cunt felt primal, and its touch brought him dangerously close again. "Don't move your hips, don't move at all. You need to let me have complete control." He hummed in agreement, laid his arms, palms up, on the floor, and forced his body to lie still. It was difficult, very difficult, to not reach for that climax, to resist that final straw dangling well within his reach.

The wall pressed hard against her fingertips. Face full of his hair, skin full of his skin, body resonating with the pounding of his heart, she pressed back. The wall bore no load. Its purpose was to separate. One of Vallnord's purposes was to separate, that's for sure. So was this entire country's. Walls, good manners, suppressed emotions, order and rigidity. Safety in separation, safety in high defences, safety in avoidance.

Look at him. He let go of all safety. He relinquished control of his body. And look at them. Look at the naked contact they were making, nerve to nerve. Look at his awareness, centred on the head of his cock, his awareness literally out of his body and inside hers. Wasn't it clear that their shared lust was stronger than Vallnord's barriers?

Her vague intuition cleared into complete confidence. She smiled, and her fingertips pushed harder against the plaster. Oh, yes. Watch this.

She moved her hips, and at once he surged. Already denied so much today, the glow within him grew furiously, swept aside all of his other aspects, united all his body in a single purpose - he glowed whole, from his balls snugged up tight at the base of his cock to the tips of his twitching fingers. He bucked under her, and now there was no going back - so she sped up, encouraged him, dared him to go all out - and he did, and the glow grew absolutely blinding...

And the moment a heartfelt moan escaped his throat, and muscles beyond his conscious control contracted within him, she let her magic flow through that gorgeous, glorious, potent prism; and the moment the moan heightened into a whine, and he bit on her shoulder, and the first powerful squirt of semen finally passed from inside him to inside her, some resistance caved in and her fingertips on the wall suddenly, confusingly, found themselves about half an inch inside the cool masonry.

She barely even cared. All that she wanted to sense now was this beautiful writhing fulfilment going on under her, that ravenous want so rapidly flowering into satisfaction, all colours changing flowing and settling, and his arousal peaking over the clouds into a calm sky, and only his sheer joy remaining.

It was with a lot of reluctance that she pulled herself out of him. He opened his eyes and looked at her, from the floor, from under those long eyelashes, and smiled bashfully. She kissed him on the mouth and fixed his hair.

"You need to go, fast," she said. "It will wear out soon."

"Did it work?" He reached up, and his hand went right into the wall. Oh, bloody hell. She really did make it work. That was some seriously impressive magic. He gave a short laugh, leapt up to a crouch, and now he gave her a hungry kiss.

"You're fucking amazing," he said. The look on her face was very unlike herself, completely giddy, flushed, bright-eyed, disordered.

"No, you're fucking amazing," she replied, and cradled his face... and suddenly both of them stopped, looking each other in the eyes, trying to figure out why it was suddenly very awkward.

But the circumstances bailed them out.

"Okay, go!" she whispered, and gave him a little push. He nodded, grabbed all his clothes, gave her a final peck, and leapt through the wall.

There was that brief coolness, the squeamish feeling of being in a space already occupied, a momentary lack of air - and then he was in another attic, a dark attic full of stale air, on an old wooden floor, underneath a small colony of surprised bats. He quickly put on his clothes, wincing as he pushed his still swollen and wet cock into his boxers. He put his hand on the wall he'd just come through, now solid again. He remained standing there for a moment, and then hastily made it to the door.

On the other side there was a dim staircase with high steps of worn stone. He slid down more than he ran down; he passed a few doors until, by the smell of roasted meat and rosemary, he realised that he was at the back door of a scullery he'd seen many times in passing, the one tucked in the corner of the medieval wing's larger courtyard. He put his fingers on the handle, breathed in, and pushed.

Three elderly cooks looked up at him from their three spots at the wooden counter.

"Hello," he said with a polite smile, closed the door behind him, with a few quick strides made it to the open front door, and disappeared in the sunlight.

For a few moments, there was a silence spoiled only by a fat fly circling under the vaulted ceiling. Then, all at once, all three cooks shrugged dismissively, and went back to chopping leeks in unison.

Diane, in a gentle haze, stood looking at the wall, thinking of not much more than the whitewashed patterns on its surface. Then, she shifted. A generous serving of Niko's semen was lazily sliding down her inner thigh.

She smiled and stretched bodily. Damn, she felt so powerful in that moment - naked, cumstreaked, utterly victorious over the laws of physics and the school rules both. This was some seriously impressive magic she did right there. Her family and teachers would... would not be proud, actually, but still.

With a satisfied grunt she let her arms fall along her body, and looked around, her face setting back into her usual, controlled half-smile. Time to get out of here, go for the privacy of the bathroom stalls, masturbate Niko's delightful moans away, go grab a bite in the canteen, and then for the afternoon lectures. Brilliant. There was a paper towel roll discarded helpfully on the nearby table. She lazily lifted her hand and called it to her—

There was a sudden nauseous feeling, like falling down, like space not being what it was supposed to be—

The roll swayed, fell on the tabletop, rolled over a few inches and stopped.

And in the same moment Niko, leaning against the old gatehouse and breathing in relief, suddenly felt disoriented. He got in his mind a glimpse of some object, and a conviction that it would be useful for that object to move... he closed his eyes. A... paper towel roll?

And in the same moment Diane, standing in the attic with her smile frozen on her lips, curled her fingers, and called the blasted thing again; again the roll only shifted a little bit, but the immediate vertigo made Diane crouch down on the floor—

And in the same moment Niko straightened up, very confused now, the feeling returning. He closed his eyes, and looked within him... there was his body, his mind, acting as usual as a conduit for magic, his own magical ability swirling peacefully about him... and wrapped all around it, like ivy, was something very similar but yet very different, powerful and oddly familiar—