I chuckle as I sit down on the couch. The idiom applying very directly to both of my friends has never occurred to me before.
But when I set my hands in my lap, the amusement dies swiftly. Namely right when I bring my right arm forward and into my field of vision to see the elaborate sleeve covering my affliction. The curtains are closed, so I take it off to look at my arm.
It's been worsening, overall. The essence density in the city is substantially worse than even the expanses between cities, so I haven't been gaining nearly anything passively from the environment, which has meant I need to be more or less constantly breaking things down when I'm here at home. It's left me with the growing problem of needing to find ways to dispose of the powder. Currently my best and only option is just… Gathering it in bags, piles, and boxes. Far from glamorous. I'm consuming as little as possible in a concession to carefulness. Can't tell Lilly and Ayre that though. I'll just suffer it like anything else.
Clearing my head to refocus on my arm with some effort, it's shifted much farther into the red spectrum, trading its pure, crystalline, amethyst motif for the red, wet-looking, Infernos essence that Lilly is so scared of getting out. It's been moving that way since we arrived here, but I've made a point of not letting either of them know. They have a lot more to worry about right now.
Besides, the only emotional changes that come along with the shift towards Infernos is a lessening of my need to know and an increase in my need to have. It's hard to describe, really, since they coincide with one another for all practical purposes. I just find it easier to resist the want to have because the things I have to do to sate it are much harder to rationalize and reconcile.
I can easily rationalize grabbing onto something to sap some information out of it, because it doesn't feel as destructive mentally. But grabbing things to take from them? That's inherently worse. More monstrous.
So, I'd rather resist the less complex urge, even if it's more powerful on a moment-to-moment basis.
Or maybe I'm just lying to myself. Or…my arm is lying to me. Or I to my arm. It's complicated.
Everything is too damned complicated.
Raising my hand in front of my face to look closer, I see that even down to the blackened bone deep within the fissures in my "skin", the amethyst seems to doggedly resist any change. I've been watching it closely. The "depth" of the red is getting closer and closer to the bone, even touching it in some places, but nothing ever changes the bone itself.
It's led me to believe that the bone is a fundamental part of the structure in some way. I assume it must be where the actual "core" of the affliction exists but—
I look up with a start, interrupting my thought when there's a series of polite raps on the door. It scares me quite badly. The front door is unlocked and I'm sitting here with my arm out. If anyone walked in, it would be a disaster…but one that I could handle, I suppose.
Maybe if I wait for them to come in, they'd be surprised enough that I could get the drop on them? That'd solve my problems pretty well, actually. The other calamity said that consuming even one person of middling experience could sate me for months…
Three more knocks come after some amount of time and I feel a cool, calming feeling wash up my arm through my veins and into my mind — originating in my ring.
I stare down at it, trying to comprehend it. But the same as always, I can glean nothing from the whirling band of quicksilver despite it being in constant contact with my hand. Another mystery to add to the pile.
Feeling calm and more clear-headed again, I draw the sleeve back on, making sure my shirt covers the uppermost portion of it, leaving no space for the prior train of thought to take hold again.
"Come on inside, the door is open."
After a moment the door swings open to show the canid social worker stepping inside, dressed just as cleanly as always. I think the jacket is called a blazer and the pants are slacks; some corner of my mind thinks so, at least and I really have no reason to question it.
It reminds me that I've been meaning to buy a bunch of clothes to absorb to learn about them so I can talk with Lilly more about them with her since she seems to enjoy that. Same thing for Ayre, but… I haven't figured out what I could use to connect with her better. Maybe just more sparring?
"Olly?" I look up and out of my mind, lost focus again. Ayre and Lilly readily abide my long pauses, but I can't expect others will. Need to focus better.
"Olly, you alright?" And again, start engaging.
"Yeah, sorry, had something on my mind. How are you doing, Maxi?" I muster every memory I can to how people in a city would interact: the way they would smile, the gestures they would make, the body posture they'd take. After a fraction of a second of consideration, I fall into the aggregate of what the memories seem to think is best.
He gives me a concerned look until I finish "adapting" myself and nods before looking around. "I'm doing alright. I'm glad to see it's warmer in here. The civil sorcery repairperson wound up coming by?"
"They did. Worked quickly, too. I tried to get a read on what they were doing, but they worked so casually that I wound up gleaning nothing." The memory makes me frown when I look over, seeing the hazy image of the saurin repairperson kneeling around the room at various places until I shake my head to dispel the memories. "Thanks for doing that again. I assume you wanted to come talk about the employment thing? Let's sit in here; it's more comfortable than the kitchen chairs. You can even have the nice overstuffed one!" I offer, gesturing at the puffiest rocking chair in the room, which Maxi gladly goes and drops himself into it with a relaxed sigh.
After a few moments, his pen clicks a few times and he produces a little journal. "So, can we get started? Or if you want to talk about whatever's on your mind, I'm happy to do that too. I'm no therapist, but I've raised my own more than fair share of kids well into ages even older than you and your friends. I'm pretty decent at listening, all told."
I laugh, though it carries no mirth at all, something he surely notices if the little twitches around his eyes are anything to go by. It's something of a tell that's common among canids, I think, when they're feeling worried or empathetic. A slight droop of the ears, too. Something to think about in the future. "I promise, no amount of talking will solve that issue. It's just something I have to endure." I wave my sleeved hand around like a ragdoll. seeing a reflection in my minds eye of every time I've done similar actions — or anyone else has, for that matter. Most of the hands I see waving around are distinctly not mine — easily separated by the fact that they all have a normal right arm.
"Well, that was going to be something I asked about specifically, actually." He hesitates, looking at me. "Now, don't make that face. I'm not going to pry into specifics, I'm looking for specifically how it would affect your ability to operate in your day-to-day life and if there's something that might be done to alleviate the problem for you."
"Well, I can describe that simply. I cannot safely use my dominant hand because of its essential composition being dangerous. That's why Lilly made me this sleeve. As to alleviating it? I'm not an expert in enchanting, but nothing I've read about shows any sort of promise of helping. It's something we're looking into though."
"Do you know how it happened? Maybe that could give some insight into the nature of it all?" He's being earnest. Other small facial tics I've noticed that aren't necessarily common to him but are to canids in general. Particularly in the movement of his ears.
I shake my head, "No, I can't say I do. I know it's directly connected to my memory loss though. At least, I'm fairly certain of it. But it's fine. I wouldn't want you to waste resources on a dead-end project like this arm."
His frown deepens, but he nods after a few moments. "In that case, I've got a list of positions I found that could either natively accommodate being down one limb or be easily worked around to adapt them to work with the problem fine. If you have the time today, I could take you around to visit each workplace and see if any of them pique your interest? The first one is working around the city's essence collectors."
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The city's essence collectors? I think those are the huge towers…
"That's the best-sounding idea I've heard in weeks, Maxi. Let's go."
The essence collectors here in Kharbon are
And I can taste it on the air surrounding it. There's a tremendous amount of essence here, all concentrated on the tower itself. Being drawn from on high, concentrated, and thrust into channels running underground.
It's something I can see in my minds eye. Not this specific tower, but a smaller one in another town somewhere, one designed to handle all six primal essence types…
"Pretty impressive, huh, Olly? They really are marvels." Maxi offers, putting a hand on my left shoulder and gripping to give some support. It's a very transparent attempt to get me to focus, and I very much appreciate it.
"They are. The only ones I've seen before coming here were much smaller and multipurpose."
"Oh. You know about these? That's actually perfect. Is it something you've seen since you lost your memories or just something lingering?"
"I saw one in Silverbrook," I lie about the source of my knowledge out of hand. Silverbrook probably had one, but I didn't spend any real amount of time looking around while we were there, so it's a safe enough lie. "I was curious, so I read a little about them. Happy coincidence, I guess. Maybe I knew something about them in my former life and that's why I picked it up quickly…"
A scalin — a kyn who look somewhat like a couple memories of armadillos that come to mind — picks their way over towards us as I trail off, gesturing wildly at Maxi with fairly long arms, a hunched posture carrying something of a slight, smooth, hunched back with broad shoulders. They're wearing a sleeveless utility suit that is threaded with magically active thread to hold it all together and distribute energy to the runes that cover the suit. They also have a utility belt with a single complex-looking wand and a slate of some smooth stone mounted to their wrist that is flashing with bright sigils as they poke at it with their short claws.
"Maxi, you are standing on one of the ley conduits. Your affinity to Aero will cause aetheric disruptions if you wind up casting any spells or drawing anything more than your normal levels of essence. Please step three steps to the left or one to the right." The hunched figured stops tapping at their pad and starts fidgeting with their hands while clicking their claw-like nails together in sequence — tapping their thumbnail to each of their fingernails in a row before returning to the beginning to start again. The noise is muted by the padded gloves they're wearing, though. They look me up and down, focusing on my sleeve with a scrutinizing glare from one eye that sparkles with an internal light — surely looking at me through some form of essence sight. "Who is this?"
"This is Olly — he's the one I told you about the other day when I stopped by."
The engineer points at me inbetween clicking his claws together. "You are the memory-challenged one, right? What's the essential median between Aero and Ignia, and what compounds are formed by their combination?"
"Mirall, I think that's probably coming on more than a bit stron—"
"There's two median points — one that is only likely to be reached in industrial usages. The one a kyn is more likely to run into occur's at five parts Ignia to seventeen parts Aero, and the other will occur at six hundred and one parts Ignia to six hundred and five parts Aero. But the compounds that form from them at various ratios are Lux and Fulmina, with Lux having a far greater likelihood of forming because of it's compoundment ratios." The information leaps to my mind, momentarily flashing a strong image in my mind of sitting at a desk overlooking a warm beach out a window at an academy of some kind.
When I blink a few times to clear the vestiges of the memory and the lecture that follows in the moments I see it, I see both of the other two looking at me like I just spoke in tongues. "Sorry, that was probably more than you meant to ask for."
"Nay nay, that's perfect. Where'd you find this guy, Maxi? Thought you said he didn't know anything?" The clicking accelerates, and he begins to whistle a bit, apparently impressed.
"No…I said he's suffered memory loss…" Maxi deflects while looking at me apologetically. "Sorry, Olly. Mirall has always been this way as long as I've known him. But…It seems like you two will probably get along well, at least."
"Sure. I'm more than happy to talk more about this." It sounds interesting and, just standing here, I'm feeling the wealth of essence leeching into my body from the air itself. Doubly so when I take a couple steps as nonchalantly as possible to stand on the conduit that Mirall mentioned.
The moment I do so, I feel wonderful. It's almost as nice feeling as when I drained Ayre and woke up. Like I've been walking through a desert and finally came upon an oasis.
"Everything fine Olly? You went kinda quiet." Maxi's worry pierces my drifting focus as I try to glean everything I can from this flow of essence — which is preciously little as it's simply Terra essence. If I could get ahold of the conduit though…Maybe this job would get me that opportunity?
"I'm fine. It's just a memory thing is all. Occasionally get this uncanny feeling that I should know something but then I don't. Distracts me for a few seconds. Nothing to worry about."
"Right, so, Maxi is unimportant now. Walk with me…You're Olly right? I think Maxi called you Olly? Right, good. Thanks, Maxi, I'll take over from here and send you the paperwork later. I have a quiz to give. I'll return him if he's not a good fit, but I doubt it." The shorter man returns to clacking one hands claws while grabbing my unsleeved arm by the elbow to drag me along towards the spire ahead of us. I follow along dutifully — it's only getting more essence-dense as I get closer.
Casting a look back, I see Maxi giving me a slow wave with a wry smile. I suspect he must have foreseen this outcome. He's an insightful man. I feel like all of my memories respect someone like him, so I think I probably should, too.
"Right, so. I overheard you say you read about essence spires. Are you interested in them? Or was it more of an idle curiosity? If I say "Essential Condensator coupling" what does that mean to you? How are you with math?"
Each time I open my mouth to answer, the man adds another question — clearly not deliberately meaning to cut me off as he's facing away from me as we walk. So I wait for an actual opening before I try to answer.
"I like to learn about most things. But I wouldn't call it an idle curiosity, just a curiosity. An essential condensator coupling is…something used to couple essential condensators together? And I haven't had much cause to do math since I lost my memories, so I can't say."
The nearness of the tower is actually making me start to feel short of breath. The essence in the air is so dense that I feel like I'm wading through it. Every step closer is starting to send shudders through my spine. It's feels nearly identical to that desire I've been feeling, but with a satisfying payoff. Not a frustrating denial of myself. I feel fulfilled.
I want to engage my essence sight, but the effect is very obvious and apparently bizarre so I resist the urge — besides, I have a distinct feeling that it might blind me in a place like this. I'll try looking at it from a distance later.
"Good enough to start. You seem sharp. Do you know what these actually do? The essential principles at work for them?" He gestures up at the spire towering over us as he ushers me inside. From here, at the base, I can see something I couldn't before. There's impossibly thin strands of something the drift off from the tower. Countless thousands of them, nearly invisible but for the light catching them at this angle. All at more or less maximum extension irrespective of the wind.
"Well, the name is pretty straightforward, I think. Essence Concentrator Spires are spires that concentrate essence. But for a less smartassed and more accurate answer. They gather essence from the region, collect it, and then distribute it for usage around the city. As to the principles? Not sure."
"Look at this here." He points at the center of the tower, where a blindingly bright-green tube is running up the full length of the spire, all and from it I see those countless threads , seeming to pass through the spire without actually making contact. In the relative light levels in here, they're easier to see, and I can make out the occasional pulse traveling inwards towards the center. "This is the essential core. Think of it like a dungeon core, but not a mean bastard monster and wholly artificial. It emits collector threads and they, in turn, gather essence from the area to draw it in here so it can be distributed safely and evenly around the city to where Terra, in the case of this spire, is needed."
"That makes sense, mostly. But why not just call the essence? Wouldn't that be faster and simpler?"
The question has the engineer look at me with open surprise. "You really are missing some things, huh? Nothing that doesn't have a soul can call essence. And 'far as I know nobody has ever made a sapient item, let alone one on the scale of a spire. Hope they never do, either, myself. Making a sentient wand or building whose sole reason to exist is to do a task? That's effectively slavery. Not right.”
He shakes his head, discarding the idea. “Those threads let the spire gather from a far larger area that it would otherwise. Even that aside — nobody would want to make something that could call essence on its own in such an automated way — that's how you deplete a region and cause aetheric collapse. Which, if that is also a hole in your mind, means everything within range of the thing would die and eventually collapse into null-dust. Trees, grass, dirt, people, animals. Anything."
That explanation answers… a lot of questions I've had since waking up. And incredibly casually, at that. "That actually makes perfect sense. Sorry for the basic question. There's a lot of little holes around the big holes, ya know?"
"Well then, Olly, I have some more formal questions, but I think I can probably train you to do this work — it's mostly brain-work, not labor, aside from walking around to the spires, that is. Think you might be interested? I'll do what I can to try to fill in gaps in your knowledge about magic theory. It's something of my special interest. Anything else, too, of course. I just especially like magitechnical engineering.”
"Tentatively, I would definitely agree. This sort of thing is invigorating to be around." I smile after, the admission feels good. About as good as standing here in this room so full of essence. I'll need to see what my arm looks like when I get home from this. This could be a good long-term option, but time will tell if it's "enough".