Somebody Stop Him [A Progression Fantasy Epic]

Sir Kaelan of the Order of Saxtant Knights yawned.

His post, an austere office carved into the Silver Tower's dormitory level, was functional but far from inspiring. A simple hexamesh desk, a rune-etched wall panel with a few colorful Kitlix that served as his interface to the Academy's ward system, and a sturdy magisteel chair were his companions for this administrative ritual.

The Celestorm shift had thrown everything into disarray, mucking up the usually smooth House Sorting. The Astralnet was still buzzing, the Nuntix Kitlix on his desk speaking with voices of various Scrutimancers explaining the various mind-boggling changes. Kaelan wasn't looking forward to dealing with the bullshit produced by the worldwide Celestorm. The sheer volume of future paperwork that would be generated by the dimensional hiccup was threatening to bury the Saxtant Order for months.

At least the young Mystagogues seemed mostly oblivious to the wider cosmic tremors, their concerns focused on the far more immediate anxieties of dorm assignments and impressing their House Cantigeist. He envied their naivety, just a little.

"Good evening, Sir Knight," a Kitsune Novitiate approached his desk. "We are here to submit our House Dormitory Scrolls."

"Already? Hrm. Aren't you quick. Very well. Names?" Kaelan prompted. He kept his tone neutral, professional. He was a Knight of the Order, not a friendly innkeeper.

"I am Lissander Fox," the green-eyed, ginger Kitsune boy stated, gesturing to himself with a flourish. "And these are my… lovely roommates." He rattled off a string of names–Jogab Proverra, Mag Satosh, Lil Moongrr, Cin Novik, and Ves Simm.

Kaelan nodded at the six boys, his gloved hand outstretched.

"Scrolls, please, Novitiate Fox."

Novitiate Fox gathered the scrolls from his companions and presented them to the Knight.

Kaelan took them, his magisteel gauntlets clicking softly against the parchment. He scanned them quickly with his Kitlix. Ah, the novitiates must have messed with their names ever so slightly. That was their trick to get into the dorm. He let it slide, mildly amused with Mr. Fox's plot and far too on the nose last name.

He turned to the rune-etched wall panel beside him, the interface glowing softly with arcane symbols. With a few swift gestures, he injected the scrolls into the designated slot. The wall panel hummed, absorbing the magical contracts, the runes flickering and rearranging themselves as the system processed the data. "Please stand by."

The Infix Kitlix flashed within the alcove, then displayed the room number and names. 'Room 818, Foxglen Den West Wing.' Six names, one room.

There was something slightly iffy about the appearance of the students too, but the Knight let it slide too. Some trickery was permitted and expected, after all, this was the house of the fox. Nobody expected first years to wield high-level magic.

Kaelan retrieved the hexagonal tokens produced by the wall-inhabiting Burnix Kitlix, now magically linked to the assigned, and handed them back to Lissander Fox.

"Room 818, West Wing," he announced. "Your room ID tokens. Don't lose em, or you won't get into your dorm. Clip them to your Lazarus bracelets. Proceed to the Foxglen Den Common Room for your orientation tomorrow at Eight AM from your House Student Reps. Feel free to enjoy your room and explore public areas of Skyfall for the rest of the day. Do you have any questions?"

Novitiate Fox shook his head. "No, Sir Knight. Thank you for your time." He accepted the tokens, and gestured for his companions to follow. They moved away from the alcove, a quiet, obedient group, disappearing into the corridors of the Silver Tower.

. . .

We passed the 'boys-only' dormitory gate barrier without any issues, Lilith's memetics doing their jobs well, filling a crystalline elevator that took us to level eight.

A wall-sized painting featuring the swaying yellow-orange field with the view of Arx landscape rising up into an endless, continent filled sky greeted us in the corridor next to room 818.

A painted, winged, silver-white fox bounded into view, the hay parting in its wake.

"A masterful job, Novitiates!" The Depictomancy avatar of Argentiss jumped and twirled through the air landing onto all fours with a wag of silver-white tail. "Twenty two minutes and sixty five seconds. A new record for a group of firsties, considering how many of you have successfully tricked the ward and the Tower's Saxtant Keeper. Keep it up and you'll secure cushy jobs at the Omnid Magisterium as Interdimensional Infiltrators after your graduation!"

The fox clapped her paws and the countdown on our bracelets vanished with a flash.

"That sounds like a fun job," Lilith commented.

"Tis, tis," the fox nodded. "My house aims to produce the cleverest spies, leaders and diplomats."

I smiled back at the painting. "Thanks, Argentiss. Say, what exactly… is a Cantigeist, in House terms?"

The painted fox tilted her head. "A Cantigeist," she repeated, "is the… animated spirit of the House. A guardian, a guide, a… wellspring of House essence, if you will. For example, I'm the embodiment of cunning, strategy and wisdom within these walls. I observe, I advise, and occasionally, I test the mettle of my foxes."

"Cuuute. So, you're like… a sentient House mascot?" Vespera interjected. "Am I allowed to make a plushie of you, you adorable creature?"

Argentiss chuckled, a dry, rustling sound like autumn leaves. "Simplifying things rather drastically, but not entirely inaccurate. I am more than a mascot, of course. I am woven into the very fabric of Silver Tower, a repository of House lore." The painted fox's eyes flashed to Vee. "You can produce plushies of me in the Artifactorium below if you so desire, I do not mind. If you are as clever as your first quest has proven, you can even figure out how to imbue a plushie with my essence which will animate it within the boundary of this house!"

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"Eeeee," Vespera squeed. "Second question–how much can we mod our rooms?"

"As much as you desire," the fox purred. "As long as you are not caught by the end of the year. Highly responsive Hexamesh patterns are woven into everything for those who are talented in dimensional magic."

"Heckin yass," Vespera clapped.

"Were you born or designed?" I asked.

"Designed," Argentiss chased her tail through the gold hay. "Woven into existence by a clever Thunderbird millennia ago from a variety of clever, wise and devious spirits found within the Shard of the Wormwood Star hosted beneath this tower."

Then she stopped spinning and sniffed me.

"But then again, in a way, I suppose there was no me centuries ago," the painted fox laughed. "And Skyfall wasn't standing amidst these mountains yesterday. And so perhaps, I was born from dreams of desires of all those who wished me into existence when Archangel Zadkiel tore through reality with her wings... courtesy of a very dangerous, clever, little fox and his friends."

With a final, sly wink, Argentiss's painted avatar leapt backwards into the hay and was gone, leaving only a warm view of the Arx landscape behind.

Vespera tapped her token on the hexagram next to the entrance and pushed the door open, and we stepped inside.

The room was… impressive, in a stark, elegant way. Silver wallpaper, subtly textured with a faint fox and star pattern, lined the walls, reflecting the soft light filtering through the tall, arched gothic stained glass windows. Three sets of bunk beds, crafted from white stone and inlaid with silver filigree, were seamlessly integrated into gothic alcoves within the walls, creating a sense of both privacy and spaciousness.

Tall windows dominated one entire wall, offering a breathtaking panoramic view of the North Ocean stretching out to the horizon, waves crashing against the rugged coastline far below. On the left, the snow-capped peaks of the Eindbane Mountains loomed, their icy blue glaciers glinting in the diffused light filtering through the weary storm clouds.

"Ooooooh," Vespera breathed, her wings twitching with delight. "View with a room! I call middle top bunk!" She immediately darted towards the mentioned bunkbed and flew up towards it, wings fluttering.

Cinder grunted, but didn't object, her wings unfolding slightly as she surveyed the room with a more critical eye. "Not bad. Not as opulent or as warm as Pyroclast hoard rooms, but… functional. And certainly better than a trash panda sewer. I'll take this bottom bunk. Kobold, you're above me."

She walked to the bunks right of Vespera and sat down, pulling out her guitar.

Magdaline entered into the room after us. "Hrm. Decent ambient mana density..." She trailed off, her gaze lingering on the windows, as if drawn to the vast expanse of the ocean view.

Io shuffled into the room and took one of the bottom bunks on the right of Vespera. Magdaline threw her suitcase into the bunk above his, making the moth twitch below.

Lilith nodded in approval, closing the door behind her. "Clean energy signature. No lingering psychic echoes. Good barrier shielding against Astral intrusions. Not bad for a dorm room!" She then marched to the empty bottom bunk under Vespera and collapsed onto it, stretching.

Cinder let go of her Holofractal projection and the figures of the Omnid trio suddenly became curvier and taller, their features once again becoming very feminine.

I climbed up onto the bunk assigned to me by my Quetzi-dragon.

Cinder started strumming her guitar, humming to herself. The melody carried across our room. I opened the stained glass window, making the silver curtains flap in the ocean-breeze.

The privacy panel covered in gothic patterns and dancing foxes on my right side suddenly ignited at the edges and then fell open. Vespera climbed into my bunk space, feathers fluttering as she squeezed through the hole.

"Did you just torch-weld through a magisteel wall?" I blinked.

"Convenient kobold-access hatch," she grinned and wrapped me in her dark wings. Her hand found mine. "It's strange..." she breathed out, leaning her beak onto my shoulder.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"This… feeling," she murmured. "It's like… I know you. But I don't. Not really. Or do I?"

"Dimensional skewering," I shrugged.

Vee shifted slightly, her beak nudging my shoulder gently. "It's like… a phantom limb. Like something's missing, a piece of me that should be there, connected to you." Her eyes met mine with a melancholic haze.

"Like a soul-echo?" I guessed. "A bit of your soul is in me, but it's not fully connected."

"Yeah," she breathed, her grip on my hand tightening ever so slightly. "My Electofractal senses… they're buzzing like crazy when I'm near you. Like a circuit completing. Like… coming home to a place I've never been before." She nuzzled my cheek, a gesture that felt both intensely intimate and strangely innocent. "How close were we before the whole... Celestorm thing?"

"Very," I said.

The sound of Cinder's guitar drifted up at us.

"So we were a thing?"

"Yes. Both you and Ci."

"Why?"

"You tell me," I smiled.

"That's not fair! I don't remember shit!" She elbowed me.

"What, you're not tantalized by our 'ship mystery?" I messed up her feathery mane with my right hand.

Vespera's breath ghosted warm against my ear, carrying the faint scent of ozone. "Tantalized? Hrm hrm. Maybe a little," she admitted.

"Just a little?"

"Okay. More like… intensely curious. Going crazy over here with Dreamancy wanderlust. But I don't want to go to sleep yet. I want to... feel more of whatever this is. I see us as a puzzle box with half the pieces missing, but the picture on the lid sings of a promise of something... fantastic. Now stop teasing me and tell me about our 'ship!"

"I'll tell you what I can recall, in exchange for a kiss," I whispered to her feather-wrapped ear.

"Oh you devious creature." She leaned in closer, the side of her beak brushing lightly against my cheek, slowly trailing closer to my lips and then digging in, sparks dancing across my entire face. "There!" She breathed out with a light growl-purr. "Now. Tell me… about us. About 'home'. About who I was before. Pweeeeeasee?"

And so, I began to tell her.

About the magic-less world of villains and heroes, about Alexa and Martin and Dora's Terraforge GLM that infested Martin's body. About North Acadia, Omnithornia, Alexander Glock's revenge and Vee and Cinder. About Possy and our adventures in Arx. About Undertown and Katsburg. About the SimmiTech compound and the Archangel. About the bond that had stretched across dimensions and somehow, miraculously, re-knitted itself here, in this new, bewildering, more magic-infused, twisted version of reality. About the Wormwood Star Leviathan's or Ein Sof's revelations at House-choosing dias.

About Alexa saving the world and everyone in it by crashing a Fractal Engine train into it.

As I spoke, the guitar music from below wove around my words, creating a tapestry of lost memories and fragile hope, a promise of a future that might, just might, be as bright and wonderful as the past we were slowly, painstakingly, trying to put back together.