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It’s not an easy question they’re asking, and you spend a moment considering your options. |
One one hand; you could get to stay close to these two men; to Halsin, to Astarion, share a journey and a purpose with them. The thought of getting to experience moments like |
again makes your heart race, and you can tell that you’ll be in for an adventure unrivaled in its greatness. |
On the other hand; you could preserve the memory of this wonderful night just as it is, untouched, unspoiled. You could carry on, strengthened by their affection, to seek out your own path, your own adventure, and eventually even your own true love who would be the one to change your heart forever. |
Two choices. Two paths. |
No. When you really |
about it, choosing is not hard at all. You already know which path is yours. |
You open your mouth and give them your answer. |
Ptem closed her eyes and sat still, breathing in the fresh summer air. A meditative lightness like the calm that preceded her trance pulled her up and kept her afloat. His heartbeat ticked like clockwork, heightening the magic inside him with every pulse and her fingers twitched with the impulse to perform a long-since... |
He opened his eyes just in time to see a pebble hurtle towards his face, ricochet off the invisible barrier and drop to the ground. Ptem stared at it, incredulous. |
"There’s no way it’s that easy," she said, looking up at Djemari, who still had one hand outstretched from throwing the rock at him. "What did you see?" |
"I threw it and then it hit something. I didn’t see what, but it definitely wasn’t you," they said, walking over to stand beside Ptem. "You didn’t move or say anything." |
Ptem leaned back in her wheelchair and hummed pensively. "That’s..." she trailed off. "I don’t believe it." |
"You’d better. I know what I saw," Djemari insisted. Ptem hummed again. She murmured the Elvish word for bubbles and waved his hand. The gentle current of arcane energy flowed through him and without thinking, he spoke the Elvish word for glow, waved her hand again, and the bubbles shimmered in the light of the sett... |
Art by Sethame V. Derat |
"Wow," Ptem said. "That worked too." |
"Yeah, that was quick," Djemari said. "I thought you had to wait longer between spells. Aren’t you pleased?" |
"I should be. But I don’t think I am," Ptem said slowly. The warm breeze blew the bubbles into the trees and bushes around the garden, popping them in iridescent bursts. |
Ptem hadn’t expected harnessing the chronurgy magic inside her to be so simple. She’d anticipated a long process of trial and error, as was always the case when he learned new magic. He ought to be delighted that he’d mastered it right away, but bitterness seeded inside him instead. She let out a sigh. |
Magic came so easily to everyone else in Ptem’s family. Petrianne had taught Ptem and Effügia together how to cast spells. Effügia’s mage hands manipulated objects deftly and steadily, and her fireballs always measured a perfect forty feet across. She teleported to the correct room in the house every single time and sh... |
Effügia created elaborate, realistic illusions with a lazy wave of her hand. Incantations rolled off her tongue like songs, no matter how irreverently she spoke them. Ptem’s sister never enjoyed magic; she complained it was a waste of time and that she was bored. She argued that she didn’t need to practise, as Petriann... |
Eventually, Petrianne agreed that they didn’t need to teach Effügia and they instructed Ptem on his own. Effügia only joined them when Petrianne wanted her to learn a new spell. Ptem had once asked Petrianne why he found magic so difficult when Effügia had no trouble with it. They’d told Ptem that they, Avariel, and Ef... |
"Why not?" Djemari asked. "You’re impressive." |
"It feels wrong for it to be that easy," Ptem said. "I’m not used to doing it without thinking. But everyone in my family casts spells like that. None of them ever had to try." Ptem said, more to himself than to Djemari. |
"You can do it like them now," Djemari pointed out. |
"I don’t think I can," Ptem said, shaking his head. "I wasn’t born with it. I couldn’t do either again today." She took a breath as he had done at the start of the evening and listened for the rhythmic ticking of her heart. He placed a hand over his chest and felt only her regular heartbeat. |
"Well, there’s always tomorrow," Djemari said. |
"Yes. Sorry, I don’t mean to sulk," Ptem apologized. "I just can’t believe that’s what it feels like to do magic without thinking. I suppose my prison sentence was good for something." He gave a hollow laugh. |
"I don’t know how to do magic at all," Djemari said, ignoring the remark about Ptem’s stint in prison. Ptem frequently made offhand comments about it and Djemari never knew what response she was looking for. They’d asked Ptem if he wanted to talk about it once before and he’d declined, so Djemari hadn’t brought it up a... |
"That’s not true. You know the lube spell," Ptem said. |
"That I do. It’s a good one," Djemari grinned. "Every time I’ve used it, partners have complimented me on it." |
"Same," Ptem smiled. "Thanks for throwing a rock at me." |
"Sure," Djemari said. "I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think you could block it." |
Ptem nodded in agreement and asked if Djemari wanted to go inside for dinner. There were plenty of leftovers in the kitchen. |
The next day, Ptem got up early and headed to the Alabaster Lyceum’s library to pore over the spellbook the party had recovered from Mordin’s hut. Her therapy appointment wasn’t until half-past ten and he could squeeze in some studying. |
She’d stopped trying to cast demanding spells early in the morning after Doctor Dapplewood scolded him for overexerting herself, but her physician hadn’t expressed an opinion on Ptem researching demanding spells early in the morning. Aside from the one spell she used to improve her reaction time, Ptem hadn’t cast any ... |
Mordin’s books were dense and difficult and none of them addressed the fundamentals of chronurgy magic. The man’s spellbook was the most obnoxious of all the tomes, scrawled in a dozen languages and the occasional cypher. |
Ptem could read the book and grasp its basic meaning with Comprehend Languages, but it was slow work. From what he could understand, Mordin had found spells in different timelines. Ptem suspected that they operated according to a different set of arcane laws and he’d need to rework them for the laws of the timeline she... |
Ptem tried to focus on the pages before him, but her thoughts wandered back to the wizard’s death in the alley Lark had shown them to. Vim had offered to cast a spell that empowered Punctuality—his gun—and she’d let him. |
Ptem’s pistol glowed a silvery blue, illuminating the filthy cobblestones and dilapidated buildings. Invigorated, Ptem opened fire on Mordin and blasted him again and again with the Lawbearer’s power. Though the light was bright, it didn’t hurt Ptem’s eyes. Ptem felt like Erathis was helping to guide his aim and she st... |
The radiance faded and shadows crept back into the alleyway, returning it to its dingy state. Ptem stayed silent as the divine energy bled from his weapon. He stared at Mordin’s lifeless form, unsure how to feel. Patches of decay mottled Mordin’s face, spreading from the rotted void of his throat like a curse. A bright... |
He vaguely registered Vim by his side asking her if he was okay. He reached for him and Vim leaned down, pulling her into his arms. She breathed in the spicy citrus scent of his moisturizer and ran her hands over the soft fabric of his shirt. |
Part of her had hoped that killing Mordin would make him feel better, but a heavy hollowness settled inside his heart. She let the party loot his personal effects and thanked Adhlea when she handed him a heavy spellbook. |
Ptem sighed again. She’d been awestruck with admiration when the party had chanced upon him at a fork in the road to Umar. Mordin was a powerful chronurgy wizard and an inventor operating out of a time-travelling, extradimensional hut. Not only that—Mordin was a drow. |
Before she learned her fate, Ptem had wanted to be an artificer—it was what he’d gone to university for. He’d expected his status as a dark elf to limit her opportunities. But here was a drow running his own business, making whatever he wanted. The accordion gun was ludicrous and Ptem couldn’t think of an occasion wher... |
His admiration was short lived; it quickly became apparent that Mordin had no interest in helping her. Ptem had offered to pay him to talk to her for an hour about chronurgy magic, but still Mordin refused. Each subsequent encounter with him was more upsetting than the last as he pointed out new problems that chronurgy... |
Over the days that passed since his death, Ptem realized it wasn’t anger that was weighing his heart down—it was sadness. We could have been friends, Ptem thought bitterly. They had a lot in common and Ptem would have loved to talk to him about how he built his inventions or how he became a chronurgy wizard. Instead, M... |
Mordin had mentioned that he had also spent some time in the Chronurgy Council’s prison, though he hadn’t specified how long he was there. He’d talked about it like it was a rite of passage and he’d even congratulated Ptem on her sentence. Ptem squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to think about the despair that had co... |
Perhaps enough time had passed for Mordin that he’d gotten over his stay in prison. Or maybe he served his sentence before they developed their current torture techniques and he’d had a milder experience. It was also possible that Mordin didn’t remember what it was like, though Ptem couldn’t imagine ever forgetting the... |
Guilt coiled inside Ptem as she realized her sadness wasn’t mourning; it was because when Mordin had been alive, there had been the tiniest chance that one day he would be in a good mood and decide to help Ptem after all. Now that he was dead, there was no such possibility. If I ever manage to understand chronurgy magi... |
That prospect was becoming increasingly unlikely. After several attempts to make sense of Mordin’s notes, Ptem couldn’t reconcile them with what little she’d managed to figure out about time travel so far. |
Ptem looked up from the desk. It was almost time for his therapy appointment at the temple. She snapped Mordin’s spellbook shut, louder than he’d intended, and shoved it unceremoniously into her bag. She leaned back in her wheelchair and stretched, his body stiff from hunching over the desk for so long. He rolled out o... |
Ptem told Shilvik about her frustrations with herself, with chronurgy magic, and with the lack of support from qualified individuals. The Alabaster Lyceum didn’t have a department for chronurgy magic and though there were books in the library with relevant chapters, the university didn’t have any instructional texts on... |
"The time travel method that I’ve used thus far is unsustainable. It will kill me if I try it again. I haven’t tried to fix it though because it’s the only way I know how. The spellbook hasn’t helped. I can’t give up but I don’t know how to keep going." |
Ptem’s therapist listened while she spoke, one elbow resting on the seat of their chair. When Ptem was finished, Shilvik leaned back and steepled his fingers in thought. "What would you do if this were a project you were building?" they asked calmly. |
"What do you mean?" Ptem asked. |
"When you make magic items, do you make them with the first method you try?" |
"Oh, definitely not," Ptem said. "I have to test several before I find one that works." |
"Does it bother you to try multiple times?" |
"No. I like it. It’s part of the process. I like experimenting because I learn more with each technique I try. It’s satisfying when I finally get it right." |
"Could you take the same approach to time magic?" Shilvik asked. "What I’m hearing is that this is the only way you know how to time travel and it’s not working and it will probably kill you. If this were a crafting project, would you keep trying to craft it this way?" |
Ptem could start again and try to forget everything he’d learned about chronurgy magic thus far. He had devised his time travel ritual when she was still at home in Fëlaráthæl where she hadn’t known that chronurgy magic existed. She’d only been in this timeline for just over two months and there had to be other places ... |
"I wouldn’t," Ptem said. "I see what you mean. I could try again," she said noncommittally. |
"But...?" Shilvik prompted. |
"But I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll fail. This isn’t like a crafting project. I can disassemble an item that isn’t working and start again, but if I mess up chronurgy magic, I could hurt other people. I might get in trouble again and I can’t—" Ptem forced himself to lean back in her chair and to unclench her fists. He loo... |
Shilvik nodded pensively. "Ptem, remind me what you do for work, again?" |
"I’m an arcane restoration assistant," Ptem said. |
Shilvik gestured for her to continue describing his job. |
"I’m helping to replace the lost texts in the library. Right now, I’m working on a recording of various spells by an aboleth scholar..." Ptem trailed off and looked at Shilvik. "It’s not the same," he said. |
"You’re translating Deep Speech because you’re familiar with the language and culture. Do you have anyone who can help you with the spellbook you’re trying to understand now?" Shilvik asked gently. |
Ptem shook her head. "I don’t know any chronurgy wizards who would." She thought of Aodhan, her councillor who had rescued him from the extradimensional prison. He’d secured her release, but it would hurt too much if she asked for help and he refused her like every other chronurgist he’d encountered. He’d rather not as... |
"And you don’t specialize in the same school of magic as the aboleth scholar whose book you’re working on," Shilvik argued gently. "Do you have anyone who can help you with this spellbook?" they repeated knowingly. |
"I might," Ptem said quietly. The party spoke several languages between them; Vim, Adhlea, and Djemari had said they wanted to help her. Jennare would probably love to read Mordin’s book. He knew seven or eight languages and had lived in as many places where they were spoken. "But I haven’t told everyone about my situa... |
Ptem had kept her chronurgy magic and her origins a secret from her new friends and he’d asked Vim not to tell his support group friends either. When her friends asked where he was from, she’d told them she was from the Verdant Expanse and left it at that. The truth was too complicated to explain and would only lead to... |
"Why’s that?" |
"Because I don’t fucking want to!" Ptem snapped. "Everyone always has questions and I feel like shit when I can’t answer them. If I talk about time travel, they’ll get excited and I’d have to explain why they shouldn’t be. Also, my friends are kind. They might want to help me, and I can’t let them. If I did, I’d be exp... |
Ptem’s heart tightened. He hadn’t tried to contact Akmenos or Zola for the same reason. They would definitely want to find him and she wouldn’t be able to stop them from trying to learn chronurgy magic themselves in an attempt to do so. She’d love for them to know that he was okay and that he was working on a way to ge... |
Ptem noticed Shilvik patiently listening to him, their expression calm. She sighed. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disrespect you," Ptem apologized, her voice softening. "I’m just..." |
"Reacting appropriately to your circumstances," Shilvik finished. "No need to be sorry. I apologize for pushing you." |
"It’s fine. I’m just stressed," Ptem said defeatedly. "I’ll try not to swear at you again." |
"You can if you want. Please feel what you need to feel and express yourself however you need when you are here," Shilvik said sympathetically. "And you don’t have to tell your friends if you don’t want to. In that case, consider asking your travelling companions to help you. I’m sure they would, and they already know ... |
Ptem nodded. "Not about the spellbook yet. But I told him about trying to get back home and he said that I had time and that I didn’t have to figure it out right away." |
"He’s right about that. In fact, before our next meeting, I want you to take a break. Pick a day. You are not to work or study or practise magic or exert yourself or run errands. When I see you again next week, I want you to tell me how you spent that day." |
Ptem grumbled quietly, but he didn’t argue. Her doctor at the church of the Everlight had told her to be less active, as had Vim. Ptem tried to stay in bed for a couple of days during the first week the party had spent in Emon. She’d managed to nap periodically but each time, he woke up agitated and cranky and feeling ... |
When she brought her books or crafting materials to bed with him, the frustration of working less effectively than he would at the library or the workshop also made Ptem feel worse, like she was lazy and not trying hard enough. Those times, her parents’ voices coalesced like smoke into shadow, telling him how worthless... |
"Do I have to stay in bed?" Ptem asked. He’d agreed to try anything Shilvik asked him to do and thus far most of it had helped her. But if Shilvik wanted him back in bed, she would challenge his request. |
"No, Ptem. It doesn’t matter what you do as long as its purpose isn’t to improve your spellcasting or figure out time travel," Shilvik said. "It should be either for fun or relaxation. Ideally both, but I’ll be happy with just one." |
"Okay," Ptem said. "I’ll try." |
"Thank you. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about today?" Shilvik asked. |
Ptem could tell her therapist about Mordin’s remarks but she’d only mentioned him in passing. Explaining that Mordin was so dangerous that the church had authorized his murder was a lengthy conversation that Ptem couldn’t start and finish in the remaining session time. He could tell them about being able to do magic li... |
As she considered his options, Ptem realized that he hadn’t told Shilvik how Vim’s request to see a professional had gone. "Yes, actually. I wanted to update you on how things went with Vim. It was okay in the end. He wanted rough sex but not the kind I’d like even if I were..." Ptem gestured to himself contemptuously.... |
"How do you feel about it?" |
"I’m happy he got what he needed, and I don’t mind that he got it from someone else. I don’t think I was upset about that, not really. It’s the same stuff as I told you before," Ptem said. |
"The desirability piece?" Shilvik asked. |
Ptem nodded. She explained to Shilvik that whenever Vim told her how much he wanted her and lavished him with praise, her heart soared and a fuzzy warmth spread to every inch of his body. Vim repeatedly told her that he deserved to feel that way, but Ptem didn’t know how to replicate the feeling on her own. |
Shilvik disclaimed that perhaps Ptem might think it foolish, but they had a suggestion if Ptem was open to it: try telling himself the things that Vim said to her and giving herself the compliments that Vim would give. |
"Even when I don’t feel like it’s true?" |
"Especially when you don’t feel like it’s true," Shilvik said. "You won’t feel the same as you do when Vim says it, and you might even feel embarrassed at first. But if you keep at it, it will work." |
"I’ll do my best," Ptem said. |
"That’s all I ask for," Shilvik said, smiling at Ptem. "Can you think of anything else that would make you feel good about yourself?" |
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