Singer Sailor Merchant Mage

“The famous ‘Abra Kadabra’ originates from Aramaic, which was spoken in biblical times, and means: I will create with my words.”

Mor M. Cohen

Lurching, I steadied myself on the shard of the Lodestar in front of me. It felt off. A little lower and a little smaller. I opened my eyes in astonishment and found myself standing in the sealed altar room of Drangavik, where we had been only but yesterday. As my senses rolled out, temporarily suspended by my translocation, a wave of relief rushed through me that no one had seen my arrival, followed by a wave of dread. Namir was going to be pissed at my sudden disappearance.

Chuckling to myself, I took a deep breath as the true magic of the moment hit me, “Abra Kadabra.” I joked, taking my hands off the stone and gesturing, forgetting for a second that someone was still listening in on my thoughts.

“You're not a god, Kai.” She rebuked. “Even we no longer create with our words now that the world is written in stone.” Instantly understanding the sub-context and historical references behind my thoughts.

Archbishop Grigori was far more ambitious than I realised. This would change the Compass continent forever. Were the Kings and Queens of the Compass Kingdoms aware of what he had achieved? Defending the Thorpe from the Ice Giant would just have required a distress call, and warriors could have emerged from within the settlement to defend it, at least in theory.

Obviously, there were a few practicalities to be accomplished first, such as sufficient warriors having circumnavigated the compass kingdoms on pilgrimages to log the locations of the intersectional exits within their own splinters of the Lodestar. Unless . . . I paused, thinking if a single individual could carry more than themselves through the light of the lodestar. How did that even work exactly? They said that science beyond comprehension was indistinguishable from magic. Was this magic? Science? Or something else? It did not fall under my understanding of mana or any of the other magics of the noble races, but humans or at least Archbishop Grigori had somehow managed it.

Worried, I wondered, was this also a prelude to war? Did the Church plan on conquering the kingdoms? A secret army of paladins would wreak havoc if unsuspected attacks could be launched from within the capitals themselves. He had so many new questions, and that was while he was ignoring his notifications of another new skill he had gained. He would have time to process that later.

Interrupting his musing, her voice spoke into his mind, “Time to return before your guardian rends Drangsfjord’s Shard into splinters in frustration and destroys your exit.” Fortuna awoke him from his daydreaming with the knowledge of what might happen if he delayed too long. It was time to depart before his arrival here was discovered or his departure from Drangsfjord’s was noted.

Touching the Shard of the Lodestar once more, he threw his mind out of his body. Looking down from on high, he located the light of the lodestar to the west in Drangsfjord. He threw his spirit and then felt his body pulled as the splinter somehow recognised and fulfilled his wish, bringing his mortal vessel along to follow his soul into the reality he had left only minutes ago.

“Later, Kai,” Her last words echoed in my mind as Fortuna said farewell.

He returned to a room unchanged but with a tiny difference. He was now having to face off against a mildly enraged catkin warrior who was clearly restraining himself from grabbing him despite his flexing claws and outreached arms. He was still holding his position. “What did you do?” he demanded, whispering harshly as his ward and Lord returned. Careful of creating too large a scene should the priest return to see what all the fuss was about if he screamed at his young charge.

“Abra Kadabra,” I whispered back. But he did not get the joke. No, he did not look pleased at all. Distracting myself from the situation, for a second, I looked at my notifications.

Ding! Teleportation (Lv1)

Yes! A new skill. Perhaps that was a good enough excuse. “New skill.” I continued in a whisper, as if that solved all of my problems and answered all his questions. The system rewarded my action with a skill that represented the reality of my achievement. I wondered how far it would take me and whether or not I might need it to escape my enraged guardian.

“New skill?” He questioned suspiciously, clearly still not happy with my temporary translocation.

“Teleportation?” I half asked as if that might be enough to absolve me from his displeasure.

“You have a teleportation skill?” His face had gone blank, having finally gained control of his features. They had been so hard to read once upon a time when we had first met, but now . . . nope, they were back to being hard to read. His emotions were hidden once more behind a blank face.

“Yes,” I answered a little more confidently.

“And just how did you get a teleportation skill when standing still next to the Lodestar?” He was aware that any such skill would have required near-instantaneous movement over distance for the system to recognise it. “Where exactly did you disappear to?”

“Drangavik,” I answered a little less confidently. With the Shards of the Lodestar, I could leave him miles behind, and I sensed that he was less than thrilled with that fact.

“I just . . . “ he threw his hands in the air and departed the church. He left so quickly that we did not even see the priest who had welcomed us only minutes ago. Scampering after him, I caught up just as he exited to find Asta still awaiting our return. “Are you forgetting something?” He asked as I reached his side.

“No?” I was a little anxious about answering his questions.

“The statues.” He reminded me.

“Ah, yes. I’ll just be a minute.” I rushed back to unceremoniously deposit two statues within the alcove the priest had indicated before rushing back out to find Asta’s offers of help being equally brusquely rebuffed.

“Thank you for the offer, but we will be fine returning to the inn.” Those were the words I heard as I exited for the second time.

“Well, if you're tired . . .” She paused, uncertain of what to say in the face of his silent staring.

“Thank you for offering, “ I mediated. “But we are truly tired.” I attempted to moderate his blunt refusal. This left us awkwardly returning to the inn together but apart each one of us in their own little worlds as we contemplated the changes of the day.

Asta had seen some excitement in new faces, but they had turned cold when pressed.

Namir had both lost and found his ward and charge within a single room, no less.

And I had taken the first step towards a bright new future for the Wester Isles. There would be so much I could achieve with this once I returned home.