Mark of the Fool

“Now that we’ve got our mana core liquified, we have to apply it to the false roots,” Alex explained to his golem.

‘Father…I have a question,’ Claygon said.

“I love it when you have questions.” Alex put the processor down so he could check the temperature of his mixture. “It shows that you’ve got a curious mind, Claygon, and having some healthy curiosity takes you much farther in life than being a dullard. So, what would you like to know?”

‘The pot…’ Claygon’s attention was on the soil. ‘It is…full of earth…but in the shop we went to…there were plants floating in liquid. Why not…do it that way?’

“Oh? You mean why bother with the soil at all?” The young wizard checked the temperature gauge on the sideof the processor, nodding in satisfaction. “Yeah, that’s a good question: it’s true that certain plants can be cultured in water, and some you can use a mineral-rich liquid solution for. But the answer is time. Remember how you said you were alright with waiting? That you were patient?”

‘Yes…father,’ Claygon said.

“Well, sometimes patience is rewarded. And sometimes without patience there is a consequence,”Alex explained. “You see, the soil slows how fast our little aeld branch friend will take up the liquified mana core. It’s more of a slow release of energy into the staff.”

‘And that’s…a good thing?’ His golem asked.

“Oh, it’s not only a good thing, it’s a necessity.” Alex tapped the side of the plant pot. “The aeld branch is going to take up this entire solution through the false roots, right? But if it drinks it toofast, then the mana core will recrystallise—”

‘It’s…going to recrystallise?’ Claygon looked at the liquid with concern. ‘It had sharp points when it was…solid. Will that…not hurt the aeld branch?’

“Very astute: the answer’s a very strong and mighty yes.” Alex patted Claygon on the arm. “Oh, and by the way, be careful when you’re interrupting someone. I don’t mind it, because I understand you’re just excited to learn, but some people could find it very rude and insulting.”

‘Oh…sorry…father…’ Claygon said.

“Oh, bah, no need for apologies, I’m just warning you for when you’ve got your fancy, shiny speakerbox and you’re chatting with everyone you meet,” Alex chuckled. “Not everyone’s as understanding, kind, intelligent, wise, forgiving and devilishly charming as I!”

He laughed, then paused, reflexively waiting for someone to roast him.

Of course, no one did.

Claygon simply nodded as though his father’s words were the greatest truth the world had ever known, and besides, the only other living creatures around were the vermin in the walls and his summoned army hunting them down. And they were a little busy at the moment, and probably not really up on the whole roasting between friends thing.

Alex coughed awkwardly. “Anyway, I mean I might be exaggerating on my good qualities…a little.”

‘Is…that…humour, father?’ Claygon asked.

“Er, yes, but anyway! My point was that you were right…but you were also a little wrong.” Alex tapped the branch gently, and its light flickered as though his touch was ticklish. “When it solidifies in the branch, it can hurt it…if it drinks the liquefied mana core too fast.” He rubbed the bark. “You see, if it absorbs the mana core too quickly, the liquid won’t have time to flow through the wood evenly, and pockets of liquid mana core will form. Those pockets will then harden, forming small, sharp crystal blooms that’ll tear through the wood fibres. That’s where the soil comes in handy, it slows the process down, giving the liquid a chance to spread through the entire branch consistently. Then, when it does crystallise, it’ll solidify through the whoooole branch, along the wood grain.”

‘And that…that doesn’t sound like it would hurt the branch,’ Claygon mused.

“That’s right,” Alex said. “Anyway, did that answer your question for now? It’s just about time to move on to the next step.”

‘Yes…thank you, father.’

“Oh you’re welcome,” Alex held the processor over the pot, slowly pouring the liquid into the mana-rich soil around the aeld branch, watching as the earth shone with dozens of coloured lights. He was moving at a snail’s pace, slowly and steadily—ensuring not a single precious drop was spilled—as he covered the soil with liquified mana core.

“We want to get as even a distribution as we can,” he said to Claygon. “So we have to soak the soil around the branch fairly evenly. The false roots can correct for some imbalances—like too much liquid on one side of the pot—but it’s better to keep things as even as possible.”

‘Yes…father…so that the aeld branch drinks it evenly, and the mana core crystallises evenly.’

“You’ve got it,” Alex gently swirled the liquid over the soil. “Very good. Aaaaand, with that, we’re just about done.”

Tipping the processor, he let the last few drops of liquified mana core drain into the soil, then paused, admiring the multi-hued glow coming from the soil. He’d learned that in the most northern and southern places of the world, there were nights when the sky was filled with lights of different hues and shades, weaving like silk tapestries hung by deities.

He wondered if they looked anything like these shining in the soil surrounding the aeld branch.

“Alright!” He said enthusiastically. “So far so good!”

‘What…happens now?’ Claygon raised a hand as though wanting to touch the soil.

“Well, now we do that thing that you’re so good at: we wait patiently,” Alex said. “In the next hour, we should know for sure if the branch is taking up the mana core.”

‘What happens…if it doesn’t?’

“Well, one of two things.” Alex began cleaning and sanitising his tools. “Best case scenario is there’s a little bit of an imbalance in the soil, which means I can simply adjust it with some fertiliser.”

‘And what is…the worst case scenario?’

Alex gave a nervous chuckle. ‘Worst case scenario is that I screwed up a step when I was making the mana core, which means that I’d have to toss everything I just did, and start all over again. If that happens, then you’ll have your first experience seeing your father fall to his knees and cry.”

‘...you said those ingredients were expensive.’

“And that’s why I’d be falling to my knees and crying.”

‘Ah.’

“Exactly ‘aaaaaaah!’ I’d be screaming that word too! You get it!” Alex scrubbed out the pressurised processor. “In any case, we’ve got some time to kill and a bit of mana left, so we might as well get a little more work done since we’re here, and Traveller knows the place needs it,” he looked around the kitchen. “We might be able to kill all the vermin today—or at least most of them, I definitely don’t hear those dire rats anymore—but there’s still a lot of junk to remove.”

‘I can move the heavy things…father. You just stay here…rest. You are tired and I don’t…get tired.’ Claygon said, standing a little straighter.

“Ohoho, no you don’t!” Alex wagged a finger. “I didn’t just polish you to a mirror-sheen just to see you get dirty hauling a bunch of garbage around.” He cracked his knuckles. “Like I said, I’ve got some mana left…so let’s leave that sort of thing to some new helper friends I’ll be calling.”

Formiac ants were some of the greatest workers in all the outer planes.

Virtually tireless, ultimately focused, loyal to a fault and excellent at teamwork, they could raise literal mountains on their home plane if given enough materials, and they’d complete the task in surprisingly little time.

For the job of taking out years of garbage and disposing it in a city-provided bin, they were more than qualified. Alex stood in the common room, conjuring the final member of his squad of six ants while Claygon watched.

To anyone walking into the bakery unawares, the ants would have made for a terrifying sight; each the size of a pony, with long, hooked pincers and front legs that ended in unnervingly human-like hands.

Their long antenna flicked the air while beady, insectile eyes took in their surroundings with a strange, distant intellect. Unsettlingly alien minds lurked behind those eyes, coldly assessing their summoner, their surroundings, and even Claygon.

Only the deities knew what manner of thoughts were sparking in those chitinous heads.

Alex cleared his throat, switching to the creatures’ insectile tongue; a tongue that required making a series of clicking sounds so distant from any language he’d ever heard, that he could scarcely believe what was coming from his own throat.

“Hello, friends, I’ve got a job for you,” he said slowly, stumbling over their language. Every ant’s head snapped toward him, focusing on the young wizard with an eerie stillness. They could have easily been mistaken for stone if not for antennae that bobbed and twitched with every pulse.

The Thameish wizard was a hair’s breadth away from giving in to a strong urge to shudder, but he closed his eyes for a breath, pushing it down, avoiding offending his new friends.

“So, I’ll lead you upstairs in a moment: there, you’ll find rooms full of all sorts of inanimate objects. Big ones—” He spread his arms out. “—small ones—” His arms came together until only a tiny space lay between his hands. “—and I’d like you to take all of it and bring it down to that bin over there.”

Alex led the ants through the front door where a bin crafted of thick timbers and iron bands sat atop sturdy wheels of planed wood and metal. Renting the thing had been quite the culture shock: in Alric, when farmers or townsfolk had trash to dispose of—which was a rare thing—they’d either bury it as fertiliser for their crops and gardens, or burn it in huge fire pits dug just outside of town for that purpose.

When he’d brought up disposing of the bakery’s garbage to Toraka Shale using the same manner used in Alric, all the colour had drained from the master crafter’s face.

“If you tried that here, you’d be fined so enthusiastically, your descendants would still be paying the city long after you were dead and gone,” she’d said in a horrified tone. “This is a city of wizards, as you well know: if everyone just dumped their waste however they wanted, all the alchemical run-off would have filled the wilderness with masses of mana-twisted mutants and wild magic by now. In Generasi you have to go, get a permit, then rent a bin on wheels. When you’re done with it, contact the city and they’ll take it away and dispose of everything safely.”

‘It’s a sound practice,’ Alex thought, showing the ants how to put things in the enormous bin, then leading them to the staircase on the side of the building. ‘And it’s probably a good thing that I’m not burning all that trash piled up upstairs. I could see those fumes killing half the city.’

“—and bring it all down these stairs, or you can climb out the windows and come down the side of the building, if you want.” Alex finished detailing the job to the ants whose antennae were flicking in time with his words. “Just keep dumping everything in the bin until the mana starts running out on my summoning spells. When you feel the tug starting to call you back to your home plane, drop whatever you’re holding into the bin, then wait down here for me, and as a little thank you for helping me, I’ll give you this.”

He pulled out a small sack of sugar, shaking it in front of the enormous, extraplanar ants. Their antenna flicked wildly at the scent of the sweet treat, then they didn’t hesitate, immediately springing into action, scampering up the stairs with absolute mechanical efficiency.

Soon, the giant ants formed a constant stream of chitin and litter, ferrying the garbage from the upper floor, to the bin in front of the bakery. Their efficiency was almost golem-like; they never stopped moving, never stumbled, never paused for a break, never got distracted, or even slowed to click at each other.

They were a study in efficiency, and Alex was amazed at how quickly the bin began to fill up with the contents of the second floor.

“Bloody hell,” he swore, happily. “At this rate, we’ll have the place free of trash in no time. Fantastic! I’ll save hours of labour costs, if this continues.”

He wrapped his fingers together behind his back, looking up at the building with a sense of pride spreading through his chest. “Well, Claygon, I’ll still need to hire folk to give the place an extreme scrubbing once all the trash is gone, and I’ll also need to get carpenters in to do much needed repairs, but this place might be livable a lot sooner than I’d originally thought.”

Alex smiled up at the golem. “And then, I’ll get that basement set up good and proper for my workshop, which means you’ll have that speakerbox in no time.”

There was a pulse of excitement from Claygon. ‘You are…a good…father to me.’

“Well, I try,” the Thameish wizard shrugged. “I’d be a pretty shit one if I didn’t do my best by you. In any case, why don’t we wait a bit, then check on the staff. Tell you what, I’ll teach you how to play cards. …maybe you can play Thundar andbreak his winning streak. And speaking of him, I can’t wait to show him and Isolde our new home. I think they’re going to be real bloody surprised.”

‘Father…it’s beautiful…’ Claygon murmured. “Look at the light…’

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Alex’s eyes shone with anticipation, observing a multi-hued glow pulsing upward through the aeld branch’s bark. “It means our aeld friend is drinking all that liquified mana core just fine.”

His smile widened. “Looks like I’ll have a brand new staff that’s ready for our next battle, after all.”