MidasMan

  As expected, my magical potential was quite rge. Over the past year under Arch Mage Fandrel Lo Sistra’s guidance, I have been slowly harnessing the magical power that was so integral to my second life.

  I admit. It’s been harder than I initially anticipated. Not in terms of mana or magical power, the Arch Mage assured me I had more than enough required. I had the raw power, but none of the finesse I was so accustomed to from my past life. The difficulty I was facing now is a direct result of what had once been the core of my powers; a computation orb.

  Or more accurately, the ck of one.

  In that life, computation orbs were incorrectly believed to be foci for mages to harness their power and project it out in a useful way by the general public. Like a wand or a staff that bearded, pointy hat wearing, wizards used in fantasy stories. That without these orbs, a mage could not use their power. This was incorrect. While orbs are a foci of a sort, technically anything capable of holding and releasing magic is a foci. From a simple handled knife to a rifle.

  No. The primary use of an orb was not to channel magic but to, as the name implies, computate it. A mage ‘pushes’ their mana into the orb in a specific way and the orb ‘computate’ it into a spell. It's more complicated than that of course. A dozen or more factors and details are involved. Like the intensity of the mana pushed in can greatly alter the effects of a spell. Or even if a mage were to push their mana into two different orbs the exact same way the orbs may have been designed to read said mana as completely separate spells.

  Magic without an orb is difficult at the best of times. Technically, any spell a mage can do with an orb can also be done without one. The catch is that the mage must then calcute all the little variables that makes the spell work in their head. In that sense, the mage’s mind was the first ‘computation orb’. Given enough time, the brain can compute and create just about any type of spell a mage would need.

  And that's the problem. Time.

  On the battlefield, even a split second’s dey can be the difference between life and death.

  The orb’s greatest achievement was its library of ‘pre-installed’ spells. A machine may not be as creative as the human mind, unable to account for every single variable, but it can store a hundred generalized solutions to a hundred general problems.

  It’s akin to a cheat book to magic.

  But for me, in my current situation, it felt more like a crutch that was taken from me as I descended a flight of stairs.

  “Careful, your Highness,” the Arch Mage cautioned. “The fmes must not breath too much air, lest they grow beyond your control.”

  I dutifully nodded as I held the open fme between my two hands.

  Say what you will about the technology level of this nd, it’s mages were talented enough to perform feats of magic without the aid of modern computation technology. I’m certain that this was because of the heavy foundation of theory they pced on their mages. And the pace of it was beyond intense. Even for me, with my developed mind and college education, I found it difficult to keep up with some of the theory at points.

  My best guess for why the magical education is so intense is that it probably has to do with what age I am. Young children can absorb new concepts like sponges to water. I’m certain that at some point, the mages here realized this and decided to cram as much foundational knowledge and theory into this short developmental window as they could to produce superior mages. I honestly do not want to imagine the failure rate.

  But the trade off is undeniable. Mages like Fandrel theoretically have far more flexibility and magical capability than any mage from Germania would have; as they would not be limited by the set number of spells on any given computation orb.

  Of course, quantity is its own quality. For every one mage produced in the Sadaran Empire, the Germanian Empire could churn out a thousand. At that point, even if each Sadaran mage was worth hundreds of Germanian mages, and not taking into account modern firearms, sheer numbers would eventually win the day.

  But back to the matter at hand.

  Following months of theory work, I was instructed in a series of exercises to demonstrate my understanding of said theory. As with all the exercises, they appear simple, but hide a clever twist.

  My current one is no exception. I must take a fme from one brazier and walk it to another on the opposite side of the room. A simple ‘A’ to ‘B’ path with no obstructions of any kind.

  The catch?

  Not only was it timed, a little hourgss of sand in the corner next to the Arch Mage detailed my time limit. But the fmes were also required to be carried by hand. No by a torch or another instrument.

  By Hand.

  It was easy to conjure fire; just ignite the air.

  It was a completely different thing to keep a fire going, between my bare hands, and make sure it does not go out or get too rge as I walk across a room. The sensation is like holding a small ball coated in fine sheen of oil. Too little or too much pressure will cause the ball to slip from my hands.

  Or in this case: the fire will either fizzle out as not enough air is being fed into it to the fmes to keep it going, or too much air is being fed and fire will fre up.

  I’ve found the ‘walk’ to be the easiest part of the exercise. The actual difficulty came from ‘picking up’ the open fme in the first pce. I had to trap an open fme between my hands and keep it burning.

  Honestly, I was of two minds about this exercise. On one hand, it was effective at teaching control. Simply not burning yourself was enough incentive to keep a student from making the same mistake multiple times. On the other, it seemed a tad barbaric to use the possibility of being burned to ‘correct’ failure. But to be fair, given the societal level I was living in a simple burn that could be healed was hardly the worst form of punishment for failure.

  After a minute of slow, deliberate, steps, I made it to the other side and dropped the fire in the unlit brazier. I took a deep breath as I felt my head ache from the exercise. The exercise was more mentally exhausting than physical.

  “Good your Highness,” the mage complimented my work. I sensed the fmes from the brazier behind me get snuffed out in a gust of hot air. Turning around, I found Fandrel standing there with his hand extended. A smaller hour gss in his hand than the previous one he used.

  “Now let us see if you can perform the exercise again in a shorter time frame.”

  I’m pretty sure that even in my st life, this form of training would have been seen as a bit much to do without a computation orb. If Francois or Albion had instructors like Fandrel for their aerial mages, my own mages would have faced far stiffer resistance than we did.

  Sighing, I prepared myself once again.

  ----------

  “I am nearing the end of what I can teach her, your Majesty.”

  Molt frowned at the Arch Mage’s words. For the past year, the Arch Mage had instructed his daughter on the higher mysteries of magic. By all accounts, the progress she was making was exceptional. Not only was she the first Augustus to be a mage, it would seem as if she was to also be a powerful one at that.

  And every so often, Molt would summon the Mage to his personal study to discuss in detail Tanya’s progress.

  “I was under the impression that I had requested the Academy to send one of their greatest instructors to facilitate my daughter’s education on magical matters. It has been but a single year.” He let the statement sink in for a moment, leaning back into his chair. “You mean to tell me that an Arch Mage is incapable of teaching after little more than a year’s time?”

  If Fandel was intimidated by the Emperor, he hid it well. The man was ancient, perhaps twice as old as Molt. He came across as the type of man who achieved their status from work rather than by nepotism; a rare breed of man in the Capital.

  “Not in the sense you are thinking, Your Majesty,” he expined, his expression betrayed no emotion. “Specifically, I am not incapable of teaching her more. But I am running out of material to teach her that I have avaible to me at the moment.”

  “Expin,” Molt gestured for the man to eborate.

  “Simply put, your Majesty, I arrived here with the expectation of instructing a young girl in the higher mysteries of magic. I did not, however, expect to be instructing an avatar of the Twins themselves.”

  Molt shifted some parchment around his desk, picking up a recent report the mage had written about his daughter’s progress.

  “I remember reading you mention something of the sort. Ah here, you mention my daughter as the ‘living embodiment of Ral and Enge themselves’.”

  The mage nodded, “and I wholly stand by my words.”

  “I’ll be frank with you Arch Mage,” the Emperor put the page back with the pile. “I had assumed you were speaking in hyperbole when you made that comment.”

  “I have been teaching for longer than you have sat upon your throne, your Majesty,” the elderly mage began. “I have seen the entire spectrum of minds that youths have to offer. I have seen both the peaks and the valleys. The geniuses and the idiots. And know that I swear on all the Gods above that I have never seen a child as unique as her Highness. She is, by far, the most gifted child I have ever taught.”

  “And yet,” the Emperor cut in. “you are not capable of teaching her any more.”

  “It is a matter of materials and instruments, your Majesty; not of desire or capabilities” Fandrel pushed back. “I brought with me enough educational material to st me five years; four if she was even a fraction as gifted as you implied to the Academy.”

  “But you only sted a year,” Molt finished the mage’s statement; pointedly ignoring the offhand remark towards his words.

  “No, I sted less than a year,” the mage corrected. “Nine months to be precise. Since then, I have been having her Highness perform exercises that older students would need at least half a year to progress through properly. She mastered them in half that time.”

  “Then what is it you are asking for Arch Mage?” the Emperor was growing tired of the constant back and forth. “She is brilliant, but you cannot teach her anymore. Is that what you are saying?”

  “I want to bring her to Rondel,” the Mage brusquely stated. “With the resources and instruction of the Academy, I have no doubt that your daughter will quickly ascend the ranks of the Academy. If she advances and comprehends the material at the Academy with the same speed and vigor as she did here, I believe that she will easily end up becoming the youngest Master Mage in the history of-”

  “No”, Molt put a stop to the man’s speech.

  “N-No?”

  “No,” the Emperor repeated. It would be the height of foolishness to allow his youngest child so far from the capital. Especially to a city he had little direct influence over. And he refused to let his child be unknowingly influenced by an outside actor.

  It was a Free City in the Empire; with its own degree of self governance, autonomy, and militia forces. Not counting the collection of mages and sorcerers within its walls. He doubted that the mages of Rondel would accept a garrison of legionaries or a contingent of praetorians within their walls; their pride would demand they resist.

  However, the solution to this issue of material and equipment is simple to Molt.

  “Anything that is needed to further my daughter’s education will be brought here. Paid for by the royal treasury.”

  “Your Majesty, would it not be simpler to allow her Highness to attend the Academy? If it’s publicity you are worried about, an arrangement can be made to have her attend under an alias to-”

  “Good day, Arch Mage. I look forward to reading and hearing more of my daughter’s progress,” Molt ended the conversation.

  With a quick gesture, the praetorians escorted the man out of his study.

  --------------------

  The one thing no one seemingly ever talks about in the fairytales of princess and kingdoms is the gilded cage of the royals and nobles live in.

  It dawned on me that I had never actually walked in Sadara proper.

  Frowning, I shut the book I was reading on magical channeling that Fandrel recently assigned me and walked over to my bedroom’s window. Thanks to the elevation of the Pace in retion to the city, my line of sight extended across the entire city.

  Like any medieval city, wealth and power was concentrated at the center of the city. In Sadara’s case this was Sadara Hill, where the Imperial Pace was located and from where the city derives its name. As you move further from the Hill, the amount of wealth, and even general safety, decreases. At the city limits I could see the telltale signs of sprawl and a red light district.

  Looking out made me realize how caged I was in my freedom of movement.

  I wasn't confined to the Pace grounds. I regurly ventured from the Pace. Why just the other day I walked the clean and orderly streets of the Imperial District below. Naturally I had a dozen praetorians surrounding whenever I did leave the Pace grounds, but other than that I was free to walk around the small confines of the District as I saw fit. I could walk by all the important and well maintained buildings and monuments, hearing the praise and welcomes of the common nobility as I walked. The furthest I went was to the doors of the Imperial Senate itself. The result of that excursion was being barred entry due to an ongoing session.

  No. When I say I caged, I mean I have not walked Sadara. Beyond just the Imperial District into the City proper. The parts where ninety-five to ninety-nine percent of the popution lived. All the bits that I can see from my window.

  Obviously I had no intention of setting foot in certain pces like the slums or red light district, but I wanted to at least tour the public forums. At a minimum, I at least wanted to see the colosseum up close.

  But whenever I ask the Emperor to let me walk the streets, in the company of a dozen praetorians naturally, he denies me. He says the streets are no pce for a young princess. That they are ‘dirty’ and ‘dangerous’. Going as far as to say if I ever needed anything from the lower districts all I had to do was ask and it would be brought to me.

  Though he did promise me that he would take me with him to the Colosseum when I was older.

  On one hand, it makes sense that, in a hereditary monarchy, a leader would not want their six year old child walking around where she could not be protected to the best of his abilities. Far too tempting of a target for kidnapping.

  That being said, it's still infuriating!

  I satiated my curiosity as best I could. Usually, this means I would ask my maids or other servants about the city from time to time. What was it like? How affluent were the people? How did they live? Most of the time, they would smile and feed me some drivel that was obviously meant to comfort me and make me feel good than give me reasonable information.

  There was no crime. Everyone ate just as good as I did. Everyone is happy.

  Or worse, they’d immediately change topics to something else entirely.

  How much are you paid? Oh look princess, a lovely flower!

  How are the districts beyond the Imperial District? Princess, please tell us how your st magic lesson was!

  Ugh. I always had to stop myself from calling them out on their false words.

  Of course they do occasionally slip up. And the picture they paint is grim.

  One girl, Julia, a young teenager and maid in training, let slip that after her father died fighting a barbarian horde to the east, she had to get herself a job to provide some monetary relief for her mother and younger siblings. Her mother, meanwhile, had to turn to ‘alternative’ means of proving money in the meantime.

  Another girl, Reenes, a girl with wolf ears on her head in addition to her human ones, was an outright sve. She wasn't born into svery, but sold herself into it to give her family some money during one particurly bad winter. I overheard her sobbing to another girl on staff that she found out her brother had been ensved for failing to pay off the debt that Reenes had sold herself to help pay off. Worse, he'd been taken as a brothel sve in the Red Light District. Specifically, to her former master. Apparently the man had run foul of a royal official and had given him Reenes to satisfy a debt. The official in turn sold her to the Pace for a small sum. The way she wept and recalled her time in his ‘service’ painted a very grim picture indeed as to the expected fate of her brother.

  Finally there was Octavia. An older maid, probably in her te-thirties or early forties if I had to guess. She was a freewoman, as in she bought her freedom after years of indentured servitude. Despite that, and the legal protections that indentured servants were guaranteed under the w, I saw very clear scars around her wrists, ankles, and neck. She hid them well enough, but every so often when she would reach up for something, the sleeve of her dress would pull back to show the raw scars.

  And these are not just one off stories from the sound of things. It seemed like everyone I talked to had met with some misfortune in their lives. Ranging from svery, indentured servitude, bandit raids, to oppressive tax collection.

  Either the Pace hires their staff exclusively from the lowest dregs of society or, more likely, they hire from the average of society. If that was the case though, then there are some outrageous levels of wealth stratification and disenfranchisement going on!

  Perhaps it was my modern sensibilities, but none of these things seemed particurly healthy for a state. All these little things put together painted a picture of a state teetering on a precipice.

  Knowing my history, I can even imagine how this ‘song and dance’ will eventually end. Over taxation of the majority of the populous leading to local unrest and societal breakdown as an autocratic state’s heavy handed response to said unrest only leads to further revolts and unrest. Repeat the pattern a dozen or so times on a macroscale and you end up at two possible outcomes. One, the state endures, if barely. Two, the state fractures to pieces. Or three, the state maintains stability at the cost of long societal cohesion. Basically, the state becomes a rotten structure that needs only one good kick to bring it all crashing down.

  Maybe I was just overthinking the situation. My mind running through worst case scenarios rather than the more likely, and ultimately less dramatic, outcomes.

  Could be my desire to just walk beyond the Imperial District was as a result of being told I could not.

  But how to move about without arousing suspicion?

  ------------------------

  “What are you doing with those old clothes, Juli?”

  Julia smiled at her grandmother’s question; both women having left the house a minute ago. The elderly dy had moved in with them after grandfather passed away a couple of years back; in his sleep thankfully. But she was getting old, her hair getting greyer every year.

  After the string of robberies against homes of elderly folk, Julia’s mother was not comfortable letting the elder live on her own anymore.

  But her grandmother was not the idle sort. She worked as a seamstress in her youth, but her fingers were far too fragile and hands too shaky for that kind of bor anymore. So Julia’s grandmother gave herself a new job, one more suited for her age. She watched over the young children of the brothel workers when they were away.

  She didn't charge the workers anything. Said it wasn't right to ask for money from women who were already in dire straights.

  “A girl at the pace has a little girl who just had a growth spurt and all her old clothes are too small.” Julia held up the small bundle of children’s clothes snugly held to her chest, “I offered some of my old clothes until she gets a chance to buy something new.”

  Her grandmother hummed at her response. “Whose kid is it? Was it the bunny-girl’s?”

  “It’s a new girl, just hired a fortnight ago,” Julia answered, doing her best to avoid the oncoming morning crowds milling about the main street. “And grandmother, no bunny-warrior works at the Pace.”

  “Really? Could have sworn you introduced me to that sweet girl some time ago. The one with the bck hair..”

  “Grandmother, that was Reenes; she’s a wolfkin.”

  Her grandmother mulled over the response. “Her ears seemed a tad tall for a wolfkin.”

  “Reenes says it's from her father’s side,” Julia joked.

  They walked a bit more together before going their separate ways.

  When her grandmother was out of sight, Julia sighed in relief.

  ‘A girl’s child? Ughh what was I thinking?’ Julia mentally kicked herself, clutching the collection of clothes closer to her chest as she passed through the servants entrance to the pace; a small alcove on the edge of the districts. ‘Just hope grandmother doesn't ask more about the ‘child;.’

  Changing into her maid attire, Julia traversed the byzantine byrinth of tunnels and walkways beneath the pace itself, doing her best not to trip over herself as she rushed through.

  After a few minutes in torchlight, she ascended a stairwell into the pace proper; still clutching her collection of old clothes.

  Despite some questioning looks from the other servants as she passed, she ran into no issues.

  Across more hallways and up more flights of stairs she reached her destination.

  With a deep breath she curtly knocked on the door. They stared at the collection of clothes in her arms.

  A moment ter, the door opened.

  “Good morning Julia,” Princess Tanya greeted her. The young girl quickly noticed the bundle of clothes in her arms. “Is that it?”

  “This is the best I can do on such short notice, your Highness,” the maid quickly pardoned herself as she passed the girl and dumped the clothes on the nearby couch.

  The princess closed the door and rushed over. She carefully inspected the articles one by one. With a satisfied nod, she looked back to Julia.

  “This is exactly what I was looking for. Thank you Julia,” Princess Tanya thanked Julia as she took several articles and walked behind a dressing screen to try them on.

  When Julia first heard the princess's pn to sneak out of the pace and blend in with the crowds, she wanted to ask her Highness which story book she had been reading. A princess sneaking out of their castle in peasants clothes to walk anonymously amongst the commoners? Sounded like something out of a children's tale.

  It was actually kind of cute. Her Highness had always acted mature for her age. Seems that even she had that ever so common childish trait of impulsiveness.

  Julia had tried to expin that there was no need for that; but her Highness shared with the maid her reasoning.

  The princess was tired of living in the ‘bubble’ that was the Imperial District. She told Julia of how she wanted to simply walk the city streets. Not the streets of the nobility, but the streets walked by the common people. To get a sense of the state of Sadara beyond the gilded confines of Pace grounds.

  She remembers her Highness taking Julia by the hand to the window of her room and pointing out to the city. From here, you could see all of Sadara. All districts and ndmarks; from the gleaming marble of the temple to the gods, to the sprawling length of the Red Light District. The Princess told her that for her whole life, she has seen the city from her window, and now she wants to see it in person. To meet her people.

  What she said next truly touched Julia.

  “What kind of princess can I say I am if I’ve never even walked the streets of my home?”

  When the nobles and lords walked around Sadara, it was usually either to leave or enter the Imperial District. The city beyond Sadara Hill and the halls of the Senate were irrelevant to them. They never ‘walked’ the streets; either they were in a carriage or sat upon a great elevated throne that was held up and moved by a number of sves. Julia remembers seeing one heavy set lord on her way to the Pace once; the sneer he gave her as his sves carried him away struck a chord in her. As if the mere concept of sharing the same air as the lower csses offended him.

  Yet here was a princess, the progeny of two powerful houses, bearing the name of the Emperor’s own house, wishing to do just that.

  Her Highness has always been of the softer sort; with an innocent demeanor and caring nature that seemed at odds with everything a royal should be. This was a well known fact amongst the servants of the Pace. She asked the servants and sves how their days were. How they were. Were they happy? Were there any problems they wished addressed?

  She even remembered and referred to them by their names. When she needed Julia, she didn't say “girl” or “maid” as her brothers and sister had, she called her name. Julia. Or when she wanted Reenes, she didn't call for the “mutt” or the “sve girl”, she asked for Reenes.

  Where the staff would feign their ‘joy’ and smiles when they served the royals and their noble guests such expressions were genuine for her Highness.

  While Julia did have some reservations about enabling her Highness to wander around the city unattended, she was at least confident enough to know that her Highness was smart enough to not wander too far.

  If she were to be honest, Julia’s biggest concern was not her Highness doing something foolish, but someone picking up her accent. Like all the nobility and lords of the Empire, the Princess had a distinct high born accent. The result of tutors teaching Tanya how to speak ‘properly’ no doubt.

  The princess emerged from behind the changing screen.

  Gone was the cute princess, what emerged looked like a young boy; with her Highnesses short hair and her dismissal of overtly feminine clothing. Her Highness had insisted on trousers and a shirt rather than a dress like Julia initially offered. The coat she wore hid any of the daintiness of her young body. The shoes were a tad big on her, but overall, the outfit worked well with her Highness. She didn't look like a plebian or a beggar, more like a store owner’s daughter than a princess.

  “How do I look?” Princess Tanya asked.

  “Like a bo- beautiful girl,” Julia caught herself. She knows no girl her age wants to be compared to a boy.

  The princess nodded. “Excellent, then everything is set for tomorrow.”

  Ah yes, her Highness had no lessons tomorrow. A perfect chance to ‘sneak out’ as her Lady put it.

  Tanya nodded and quickly undressed and returned to her proper clothes.

  “Thank you again for helping me Julia,” her Highness thanked her. “I don’t think I could have done this without your help.”

  Julia bowed. “It’s of no concern your Highness. I have no doubt that even if I was unable to assist you, another would have readily stepped forth to offer you aid.” And Julia meant it, word had quickly spread amongst her Lady's most frequent servants of her Highness's pn. Julia was simply the first to make it to her room to offer her assistance. She was happy to say she beat out Reenes by a solid minute; the wolfkin rushed to the room to offer her own support as Julia was leaving.

  Though she was still a bit apprehensive about her pn.

  The Princess pnned to use the servant’s tunnels in the lower levels to bypass the district outright and emerge in the city proper. Her Highness told her that the guards stationed there were also aware of her pnned ‘excursion’ and would let her back in when she returned ter in the day.

  The st piece of her pn was up to the maid staff themselves. They would have to give the impression that her Highness was still in the pace for the duration of her ‘travels’. That meant deceiving her praetorians. A simple ‘the princess is resting after a long day of studies’ should suffice for that.

  If all goes according to the pn, no one would be the wiser to her Highnesses excursion.

  MidasMan