Arcane Tangle

And in a different moment one day earlier, Professor Fink raised his finger and looked up to the ceiling. "You're in a hell of a pickle. It's almost impossible for you to do magic. That's why you need to be careful never to get too involved in your focus!" He looked back at his students with a smile of gentle admonition.

Diane exhaled thinly and rubbed her temples. "Oh, shit," she whispered to herself, eyes boring into the attic floor. "Oh, fucking, fucking shit."

Chapter II

The Wisp

To Yolanda's surprise the air in her room was fresh. There also seemed to be an odd feel about the place, a feel she couldn't quite place. Oh well, it's only to be expected that a massive exorcism would upset the texture of reality a little bit.

The door swung open and Diane burst in.

"Hey," Yolanda, said, "do you want to..."

"Sorry. Got to go." Yolanda peered at her roommate. She seemed very tense, her motions urgent as she threw a bunch of books and tools into her bag.

"Got to go...? Don't you have time off now usually?"

Diane flung the bag over her shoulder and gave Yolanda an empty look.

"Found a mistake in my Patterns homework. Got to fix it quick." With that she rushed off, and the door slammed shut behind her.

Yolanda shook her head. There was a lot to admire about Diane's drive, but she sometimes worried that the girl would burn herself out.

*

Niko stood in the gate, horrorstruck, and watched his open hands. How... how even...

Diane's presence was one with him, as sure as the heat of his body, as the sensation of his nerves, as his own magical field. Oh, no. No, this simply couldn't be happening.

An arcane entanglement is a very confusing phenomenon. Your magic shouldn't exist in a different place from your mind, any more than your sight should exist away from your eyes. (There is a theoretical explanation, but includes some truly awful words such as "thaumaturgical flux," "phenomenological n-space," "strand theory," "dark logic," "anagogical," and "orthogonal"). The good news is that it is obviously an unstable state. The magic must eventually seep back to where it belongs. The bad news is that this can take months.

Niko tugged at this new force within him, but it was clear that it wasn't part of his own will. He couldn't actually use it, which meant that he couldn't channel it, which meant he couldn't possibly give it back to Diane by reversing the whole process. He rubbed his forehead. There had to be some other way.

How do you wring magic out of a focus? He only hoped that since Diane fucked it into him, she'd know how to take it back.

*

Life is dismal when you're in a hurry but you can't use magic. You can't do so many things which you take for granted. You can't even open a door with your mind, you have to slow down and use your hands! And should both your hands be occupied - well then, you have to kind of comically shoulder it, perhaps trying to push the handle down with your elbow while also trying not to spill your coffee. Please spare a moment and think about those who are unable or untrained to use magic, and sympathize with the thousand little hardships that they have to brave every day.

The front door of the women's dorm thudded.

Then it opened, and Diane, shoulder hurting from the impact, stepped out. She had to be careful now that her will only reached as far as her arm.

She rushed through the lawn towards the medieval wing, where she'd hopefully find Niko. Unfortunately, it was a terrible place for finding anyone; they wasted almost an hour scurrying around the many courtyards, passages, galleries, cloisters, and arcades, before they finally bumped into each other in a narrow cobbled alley under the outer wall.

"Niko! My—"

"Yes! I sensed—"

"We've got to—" she looked to the sunny courtyard just off to the side with many people milling around, and dragged him behind a column, a shadowy and forgotten nook between two buildings where the crevices between old stone blocks were all filled with moss.

"Can you actually not do any magic?" he asked. She blew air out of her mouth.

"No."

"Holy shit, how... So I'm like your conduit now? You can only do magic when I'm near you?"

She grabbed his hands and closed her eyes. She focused for a moment, and scowled.

"No. Worse."

"How can it possibly—"

"My magic didn't get channelled through your body in general. It is stuck in your... in the sexual side of you, specifically." She grabbed his head and pressed her brow against his, in a hopeless effort to reach at her power flowing in him.

"So, you mean... you've got to be holding my dick to do magic, or what?"

He was quite startled when she immediately tested this proposition, grabbing his crotch and closing her eyes. She groped around for any connection to her abilities. She found only a faint echo, a hint in the back of her head. She let him go with a sigh.

"No, I need a total connection. Just like we were when it all got tangled up. Completely naked, full penetration, all the works."

He swore under his breath. They were at a university of magic. They were supposed to be performing it near constantly, in classes, as homework, at practical exams. He pictured Diane explaining to a commission of examiners that in order for her to perform the assigned spell, her friend over here will have to keep his cock inside of her, hopefully that's not a problem.

"Okay, well, that's not very convenient. So how can we get your magic back into you for good?"

"I don't know."

"What." Oh, come on. Oh no.

She shuddered, as if shaking off cold water.

"Yes, no, there must be some ritual for that. Let's go to the library now, not leave until we find it, and fix this mess before—"

"Ehem."

Surprised, they jumped away from each other. Next to them there was now standing a shortish, owlish man with close-cropped black hair, unusually large round glasses with thick metal rims, and a crisp white robe of one of the magical orders that had been nesting in this wing for centuries.

"I was not aware," the voice coming out of the man was surprisingly low, "that this institution was allowing such frivolity between its students."

Shit. Had he seen Diane grab Niko's privates? Niko spread his arms and stammered an assurance that nothing was happening, just two classmates discussing classwork. The man's head turned to him, and for an instant his enormous lenses caught a stray sunray, and beamed like limelight.

"An unmarried couple whispering face to face in a secluded corner! A fine behaviour indeed! Is this a university, or is this a dockside brothel? Am I perhaps confused?"

Okay. He'd only seen them talking in private.

But this was Vallnord. Talking in private was already quite improper.

"Look," Niko ploughed on, "we're just on our way to class, and..."

"And what class is that?" Niko hesitated. "What are your names, please?"

"Diane! Niko!"

Now all three of them - Niko, Diane, and the man - jumped, startled. There was now yet another new person in the alley. To be honest to them, the newcomer was way below the eye level - a very short woman, with long black hair streaked with grey, a dark complexion, in a professor's gown, carrying in her hands a wooden box about half her size. And Niko and Diane suddenly breathed with relief, in a mistaken belief that things were going their way.

They'd wasted so much time looking for each other that now they actually were about to have a class here. Standing right in front of them was Professor Yohanna Girmay, of the Department of Natural Magic, who taught their Patterns workshop. Everything was entirely normal and excusable.

"Here!" she chirped, shoving the box into Niko's hands, "help me with this, please! Come on then, don't want to be late!"

The spectacled mage huffed and strutted away in disappointment.

Professor Girmay was one of those friendly, chatty ones (as evidenced by her shocking habit of addressing students by their first names), and on their way Niko and Diane had to lie to her that they were doing fine and their day was going just great. The box rattled in Niko's hands - it seemed to be filled with many small objects. He turned it lightly, trying to figure out its contents.

"No, don't guess," the professor caught him and laughed. "You'll ruin today's surprise!"

And this was when Diane's relief started turning into alarm.

She was presently walking into a practical magic workshop while all her magic was caught inside her classmate due to a botched sex ritual. But that's not even the really alarming part yet.

Over the past month, this workshop had been all about discerning, the art of recognizing magical patterns in nature. The students had been tapping into enchanted objects and figuring out what sort of magic they were imbued with. It's a vague art and very error-prone, and to avoid personal biases it's best to practice it in pairs.

Before she'd left for Vallnord, Diane had a long talk with her father. He'd sat in his favourite chair by the fireplace, chewing on his pipe or stroking the sharp point of his beard. He'd given her a lot of advice that afternoon, including this: he'd met many influential people during his own time at Vallnord, and these contacts later helped him immensely in his professional career. If she ever noticed an opportunity like that, it was an opportunity worth taking.

She'd gotten one such opportunity in the Patterns class. Her regular discerning partner was Lady Louise Frances Oltean, the heiress to the County of Anvar. For reasons which may already be dawning on anyone who's ever interacted with South-eastern aristocracy, this was incredibly alarming.

It was idiotic to keep walking to that workshop. She should make up a bad excuse and dart off right now. But then there was Professor Girmay, walking cheerfully along them and now chatting to Niko. Catastrophically, she was a friendly and open person, genuinely concerned about the well-being of her students. Diane, who was a member of her Natural Magic Club, in fact quickly became one of her favourites. There was a real risk that if she failed to appear in class, she would later find Professor Girmay calling in at her room to see if everything was alright. And, what with teaching discerning at a major university, she was an incredible discerner. She could very accurately spot curses or disbalances that were afflicting you with the briefest examination. She'd know. She'd know immediately.

They entered the coolness of an old stone hall, and Diane exchanged glances with Niko. Their best play was to stay around and hope for the best. They greeted the students already gathered before the door, and walked onto the smooth worn flagstones of the classroom. Diane approached her black and shiny desk. The equally black and shiny eyes of the already seated Louise Oltean curtly turned to her. Diane nodded, but with enough length and depth that the nod could conceivably be seen as a bow. Louise's head dipped graciously, and she adjusted her bangs. Her hair was very straight, and as black and shiny as the items already discussed. If piranhas ever adjusted their bangs, they'd be doing it with exactly the same energy as Louise Oltean.

Diane was aware that Niko sat down right behind her. At least they'd go through this reasonably close.

Professor Girmay talked for a little bit, joked for a little bit, and then started filling the lower portion of the blackboard with notes and drawings. Niko and Diane did their best to act normal. Diane's hastily grabbed bag contained the wrong notebooks. Niko, who didn't even have his bag with him, just sat up straight in his chair, committed to nodding sagely whenever the professor said "make sure to write that down," and miserably pretending that nothing was wrong.

Around them, twenty or so students were scribbling away. In the courtyard, behind the lattice windows of old thick glass, people were going about their business, free. Diane focused on controlling her breath. Any second Professor Girmay could drop the chalk and get them to do something practical; and if that happened, she had no idea what she'd do. Her and Niko's little sex adventure could very well be exposed right here in front of the entire class.

But a half hour later, their anxiety was beginning to give way to a tentative hope. It seemed like Professor Girmay wanted to spend this particular afternoon to summing up the discerning part of the course. Every point that she made, every digression, every follow-up question from the students - one by one, they were bringing the class closer to a happy end. Only that box, placed by Niko on the professor's desk, was still sitting there like a bad omen. At one point, as Professor Girmay wandered over to the rearmost window in the classroom, she abruptly stopped talking and blinked as if she suddenly remembered something, or maybe noticed something. But maybe it was just their imagination, because after a few seconds of silence she just went right back to her clarifications.

It was about five minutes before the end of the class, when it was already certain that no practical magic would happen that day, that the box attacked.

"Alright," Professor Girmay pronounced, clapping her hands clean of chalk. "This concludes the discerning part of the course. Next time we're starting with tracing. But before that -" She took the box in her hands and leaned with her back against the desk, "- you're getting an assignment!"

The lid flew open. The inside was tiered and divided into compartments, like a box of chocolates. Twenty necks craned forward. The compartments were filled with small trinkets - painted pebbles, glass beads, metal medallions.

"These are actual, used talismans, from the collections of our museum. You will discern what sort of protective magic is contained within them, and what is it protecting against. This is a good part of your final grade, so take this seriously! Drop by my office if you're in trouble. You'll write a short report for our next meeting in three days. Yes, you'll do it in pairs, of course."

Louise turned to Diane and opened her mouth, about to speak. In a split second, Diane whipped around.

"Niko," she said.

"Yes." For a second, they looked each other in the eyes, trying to figure out what now.

"Niko, you've mentioned that you're getting good results by doing spectral analysis. Shall we do it together, I want to see?"

"Okay, sure," said Niko, who'd most definitely never mentioned such a thing in his life. At least this was news to Yohan, his study partner, who watched the exchange with raised eyebrows.

Louise sat perfectly still, save for her black shiny eyes darting between Diane and Niko. Then, without any comment, she inclined her head very slightly towards Yohan.

"My good man, we appear to have been abandoned by our partners. Shall we do this assignment together?"

Yohan cringed a little bit.

"Yes. Of course."

"Excellent." Louise's head inclined back. Her eyes had never left Diane.

A small queue of paired students formed in front of Professor Girmay, and each received a single talisman. When she saw Diane approach, she beamed.

"Diane, as a member of the Natural Magic Club, you'll want something more challenging for extra credit of course." Diane suppressed a sigh and made herself nod, and it was at this moment that the professor noticed the blank-faced Niko behind her. "Oh, you two are doing this together...? Very well, you're up for this, Niko?"

Niko closed his eyes. "Yes, sure."

As Professor Girmay reached into the box, he exhaled through his nose in frustration. Diane looked at him askance. Niko rolled his eyes, indicating that of course she had to be in the Natural Magic Club, too. Diane curled her lip, indicating that how the hell was this her fault. Niko shook his head, indicating that forget it. Diane imperceptibly flicked her hand, indicating that no, she'd like to hear how it was her fault. Niko and knitted his eyebrows and jutted his jaw forward, indicating that yes okay, drop it. At this point Professor Girmay found the talisman she'd been looking for and held it towards them, interrupting the conversation.

It was a large silver medallion, whose awkward and bent metalwork betrayed its early medieval make. Thirteen amber beads - four missing - encircled a coat of arms in the middle, a well-worn rampant griffin.

"This will be difficult, but very fun," the professor chirped, handing it over to Niko. Niko received it with care, and then he and Diane directed forced smiles at each other.

"See you in the library at five?" he asked.

"Suits me."

The last students left the classroom. Professor Girmay closed her now-empty box and walked over to the corner, right by the rearmost window near the blackboard, and there she seemed to ponder the thin air in silence for a long while.

*

A self-respecting university can't skimp on its library. This is the place which receives the most guests; visiting scholars divide their time between poring over texts and taking in the building itself, comparing it to the one at home. A swanky enough library will elevate a school's prestige. And Vallnord is the most prestigious magical university of them all, no matter what those imbeciles at Torsted or Auring or Nivental think!

There were enormous arched windows crossed with delicate metal latticework. There were marble statues of people in togas aggressively reading from scrolls. There was a rich chestnut glow of bookshelves whose tops were only reachable from wheeled ladders. There was a kaleidoscopic gleam of countless leatherbound tomes. There was the ever-present, sacrosanct silence.

Four floors' worth of those bookshelves surrounded the vast space of the main reading room; on its floor there were long rows of desks topped with green-shaded brass lamps. Diane was already at one with a small stack of books in front of her when Niko walked in.

"So, how are you doing?" he whispered, taking the seat next to her. Fortunately, this was the one place where you could have a long whispered chat without looking suspicious.

Diane was already calm and collected, which would have been strange in the circumstances - had this been anyone but her. She looked at her hands and lifted her fingers off the desk top.

"It's really strange. Like a sort of numbness in the back of my head. But I'm fine."

"So, what do we do?"

"The Patterns class is in three days, in the evening. That gives us a hard time limit to get my magic back in me." She looked at him. "Unless you think you can crack that talisman alone...?"

"I can't. See, I figured out why it's going to be difficult." He rummaged in his pocket and placed the silver pendant on the desk. "It's alive, that's what's difficult about it."

"Alive, as in...?"

"There's a wisp inside."

Diane clicked her tongue. This was worth Professor Girmay's extra credit, then. A discerning and a communing job both at once.

And wisps are difficult to commune with. They may be the most common kind of a spectral being, those ever-present little nature spirits, but their sentience is just so strange. They don't think at all like humans do, if they can even be said to think. I mean, this one here was satisfied to rest in a piece of silver for several hundred years.

"Alright, then. I need to get my magic back two days from now, at the latest. Simple as that."

"Simple as that." He half-smiled. "Wish we could wait until it seeped back to you naturally, and meanwhile we'd just have to have sex every time you wanted to cast a spell."