C. Sebastian Nutt
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Chapter 219 - Repairs
🕑 Added 2025-08-28 09:41:21 +0000 UTCHer words bounce off the walls for a moment, slowly working their way around the room and through my mind. She makes no move to protect herself from my blatant hostility, nor does she use any magical means to push back against the roiling wave of my gold and red soul presence that floods through the room. Her legs buckle a bit as the weight of my magic settles on her, and she grabs onto the bannister to keep herself upright, but that is it.
Behind me, the older, stonespeaker man dressed in butler attire slips a hand behind his back. His fingers curl around the handle of a long knife hidden away there, but he does not pull the steel free.
Inside the reach of my presence, I taste Lady Talagast with the full keenness of my magical senses. It is almost as if an illusion fades from my eyes as I truly begin to perceive her. Several items she wears bear magical power; two rings, her shawl, an amulet around her neck, and even her high-heeled shoes all carry potent magic, but I detect nothing from the woman herself. She does not have the same strange taste of magic that those monsters in Danfalla had carried. Even her eyes, which I mistook for perfect imitations of that wooden woman’s eyes, are different when I look at them with clarity. While they shine with a red light, the effect comes from crimson irises housed inside dark sclera. If anything, they are a closer match to my own eyes. Still, I don’t think she is human, at least not entirely.
With a purposeful inhale, I clench my hand, dousing the orange flames swirling in my palm. As I relax, my presence snaps inward, surrounding me far more closely. That is still something I need to work on. For nearly a month, I fought against magical blades trying to impale me with nothing but my will and my soul presence. Now, that is where the aura of magic wants to reside, safe, close to me.
I attempt a bow. “I apologize,” I say, meaning the words. “I have been doing a lot of fighting recently, and…”
“You took me for an enemy?” Lady Talagast finishes for me. “How interesting. Are you not a monster hunter like your brother?”
“I am,” I say.
She chews on that for a moment as she smooths her dress once more. “I suppose they come in all shapes and sizes. Well, I am glad that my old friend didn’t send an assassin to my home, at least. You are Charlene Devardem, are you not? He only ever mentioned one sister.”
“I am. Corinth gave me this address. I have been having difficulty with my eye,” I say, pointing to the offending artifact.
On the stairs, Lady Talagast waves her hand. “No business in the entry hall. It isn’t exactly proper.” The woman lifts the hem of her dress as she begins to glide down the stairs. “I have a parlor.”
A familiar feeling washes over me as she begins to lead away toward the east wing of the manor. At her approach, a spark of magic manifests in the frame of the double doors before they swing open on their own. I stop for a moment as I pass through, looking at the intricate pathways of infused paint set upon the inside of the frame. For the second time since seeing runework in this manor, the complexities of the array are beyond me. I follow behind the Lady into a chamber full of luxury. Several sofas upholstered with golden silk sit in a circle around a table of dark stone, and near the wall rests a multitude of crystal decanters full of various colorful liquids. Lady Talagast does not stop in the room, however, and doors continue to open in front of her as she leads on through the manor.
She takes me to a hallway where every five feet a new device stands on a marble pedestal. Each is more intricate and ornate than anything I own outside of my ship, and I can’t even begin to guess at the purpose of most. Every step I take after the woman, I walk deeper into the realization of my own ignorance. I wonder briefly if she does that on purpose, but it is not the first question I think to ask.
“You aren’t human, are you?” I ask. She appears so, in all ways except for the unnatural keenness of her teeth. For a moment, I thought she might be half-human, half-celenial, like Jor, but all celenials lack coloration as far as I am aware. She could perhaps simply be dying her hair a deep black, but I didn’t think that was the case.
The Lady pauses for a moment in her steps. “No,” she says before she begins to walk again. “I am Hanthir, a sub-species of humanity if you want to look at it that way. My people developed from the first iteration after long exposure to the dark star.”
“First iteration?”
“My lessons on history are much like my work in enchantment, extremely expensive,” Lady Talagast says, turning suddenly and walking into a set of opening doors. Beyond, a strange room that is a mix between a lounge and a laboratory spreads out. Along the back wall runs an enchanting table, similar to my own in its sheer length, but different in that there appear to be enchantments set into the wood itself. It is topped with an assortment of expensive devices, a cabinet for storing infused mediums, and sets of measuring tools I have never seen before. The test of the room is furnished much like the first lounge we passed through, two silver sofas set on either side of a long rectangular slab of granite that serves as a table. A game board made of checkered tiles sits in the center of the table.
“How expensive is extremely expensive?” I ask, following her into the room. The butler, whose name I was never given, stops at the door, closing it softly to leave the two of us alone.
“That depends on my mood and the offense of the questions,” she says, turning back and looking me over.
“I meant no offense,” I say.
She waves it off. “Of course not. It merely shows that your device is not functioning properly, as you said, or else you would have that bit of information for yourself.” Lady Talagast steps in closer to me, staring into my defective eye with her matching set. “I will need to remove the device to do a proper inspection.”
I take a step away. “Remove it?”
“Of course,” she says, looking at me with clear puzzlement. “I designed the Providence Interfaces with the ability to be removed easily. Have you never performed maintenance on it?” She clicks her tongue in a way strikingly similar to my mother.
“You designed it?” I ask. For some reason, that is more startling information than the thought of her taking my eye out.
The Lady takes a moment, arching an eyebrow as she looks me over. “How long have you been in the city?”
“We arrived today.”
“And your brother didn’t mention to you that I was the one who developed that masterful piece of enchantment?”
“He just left me a note before taking a nap,” I say, pulling the folded piece of paper from my pocket to show her.
The Lady huffs in irritation at the note, showing far more offense to the simple words scribbled there than my question about her origins. “And after everything I did for him. Yes, dear, I am the one who created these devices. They are by far one of my finest creations. So, you should feel at ease knowing that it will be I who will try to ameliorate your issue. Come, join me on the sofas.”
As I sit across from her, I realize where this familiar feeling is coming from. It is just like it was when I met Arabella for the first time. That realization fills me with a complex mixture of emotions that I don’t have the time to sort out right now. I push it away, forcing myself to calm, and sit opposite the woman.
Lady Talagast pressed her thumb to the slab of stone between us, and a light from within the granite encircles her finger. A compartment on the top of the stone opens, revealing the hollow interior, from which Lady Talagast removes a square of steel while she stows away the game board. She sets the square between us.
“Having understood that you have never removed the interface device, would you like me to?” she asks, her finger running a slow circle across the top of the metal.
“I’m still not understanding the need,” I say. But, of course, I did. “You really need to take it out in order to diagnose it?”
“This is not an invasive procedure,” she says. “The device is designed to be removed. Most biomedical enchantments are a necessity. Many of those who have the capital and the ability to utilize such devices tend to live extremely long lives. Most of the time, they outlive the enchantments themselves, which would be a real difficulty if the device couldn’t be removed.”
“I was given this eye as an artifact,” I tell her. “It is bonded to my soul; I don’t think it can be removed.”
She blinks at me a few times before shaking her head. “That is not the intended use. You are a magician, I take it, like your brother.”
“Then, I am to understand that you aren’t,” I reply.
“Correct. I have a basic familiarity with essentia magicians, enough to make devices and enchantments for them. Artifacts are magical items bound to the soul before the full integration of an essentia, yes? This is done for investiture, allowing the power of the items to grow unnaturally with the progression of the magician. While I did not design the eyes to do this, I have no doubt that less complex enchantments have been used in this way in the past. That makes this upcoming procedure more tricky, and I thank you for the forewarning, but it should still be removable. I am under the understanding that certain magicians use weapons as their artifacts, no? Surely, you have seen them remove such weapons from their persons.”
She has a point with that. While the thought of removing my eye is…well, disgusting and a bit terrifying, I came here with the intention of repairing it, to repair Galea. If all it takes is a bit of discomfort to help her after she helped me so much, what kind of person would I be if I refused?
“So, it just comes out?” I ask.
“It isn’t as simple as that,” she says. “The action is, but the mechanics and magic behind it are very complex. The device is designed to recognize the hand of its user or another authorized individual. When such a hand touches it, the enchantments inside will allow it to contract, or squish, if you will. It can be pulled out with relative ease. The material connected to the optic nerve will extend with it as well, so that the connection is never truly broken.” She has a way of speaking that is far too neutral to be authentic. I can tell that the clinical explanation is supposed to put me at ease, but it does quite the opposite.
“It still seems insane to pull one’s eye out,” I say.
“Well, that had to be done to put it in, in the first place. I notice a clear sign of regalia on you, and my own eyes tell me that you are still in the second rank. You weren’t planning to leave the eye in when you crossed the threshold into the third, were you?”
Now that she says it, I had never really given that any thought. Everything I have heard about the third rank indicates that the body is completely remade; the more an individual magician is able to control that process, the stronger the body is made on the other side. Accumulating powerful affixes and rewriting the mana channels through the body are just a part of that change. The true process is supposed to be harrowing and even deadly to some. You are supposed to enter with a plan, to recreate your body into the final and most perfect version of yourself that you can imagine, to make your flesh from affixed mana itself to increase your power. I still don’t have a plan for that, but if Corinth and Halford could manage it, I have to believe that I can as well.
“Reaching the third rank is no guarantee,” I say.
Lady Talagast clicks her tongue. “Young woman, having an incredibly complex enchantment that you don’t understand the workings of inside your body during such a transition would be disastrous. You will have to remove the eye then, so you might as well get used to doing it now.”
I can’t exactly argue with that logic. Before she can come up with some other well-reasoned argument for why I have to let her pluck my eye out, I bite down on my complaints and push myself to act. An interesting serenity comes over me as I determine the course. The emotional repulsion seems to fall away. I lift my fingers to my face and touch the Eye of Volaash.
As I expected, there is a distinctly slimy film beneath my fingers as I touch the eye, but there is no pain. Not even when I press with more force and the organic film gives way to a metallic surface do I feel any discomfort. The eye pressed back into my head beneath my fingers, and I feel it begin to move, to compress, beneath the slight pressure. Before that sensation can truly blossom in my mind, I pinch the eye and easily slide it out between my forefinger and thumb.
The dark orb looks like a grape about to be squished. A long cord of metal that is woven like rope extends away from the eye I hold, running back toward my face before disappearing around the corner of my nose. I realize then that I can no longer see with the eye.
Lady Talagast looks me up and down, her appraisal changing in some subtle way. “Place it down here,” she instructs, tapping the metal square on the table.
I do as she says, the lights of runes coming to life as the artifact comes to rest on the metal. The metallic cord rests on my cheek, extending well further away from me than should be possible. A shiver runs through me as I stare down at my own eye on the table. I thank the gods that I can’t see out of it any longer. The thought of it turning back to look at me, of seeing myself from its perspective, is more revolting than the feeling of it in my hand was. Though now that I think about it, perhaps I should be thanking Lady Talagast for that.
The metal square, which I am now realizing is some sort of interrogation device, begins to slowly pulse with light. Across the table from me, Lady Talagast’s eyes move back and forth, reading some script that I can’t see. She must be looking at a window of her own, one made by the enchanted eyes she possesses.
“This is an old device,” she says. “Part of the eighth generation. It hasn’t seen proper service in over thirty years, according to the logs it is displaying. You did well to bring it to me; the damage is not irreparable and would not have occurred if it had been properly serviced in the last decade.”
“So, Arabella gave me an old eye?” I ask.
“I don’t know who this Arabella is, but I am going to assume that is exactly what happened. The device would still be incredibly expensive to obtain, but we are on the twenty-seventh generation of these devices now. I can perform some upgrading along with the repairs if you would like. I can also register this device to you, as I am going to assume that your name isn’t secretly Volaash.”
Some parts of her speech are difficult to understand. She speaks in Castinian, at least for the most part, but I have never heard some of these words before, or known them to be used in the order she uses them. Still, she seems well-meaning in her approach, and if Corinth sent me to her, she has to be at least somewhat trustworthy.
“Do what you think is best,” I say. “Is the fey spirit still there? Is she okay?”
Lady Talagast nods. “Yes. The spirit still exists and is intact, from what I can tell. It appears this device attempted to read the providence of something beyond its ability, divine providence I am guessing. It wasn’t until the twentieth generation that I was able to stop that from breaking the devices completely. The newer generations are made to immediately stop any attempt to read divine providence and to display a warning to the user about it. I will include this in the upgrades that I make.”
“Please do.”
She reaches into the cubby in the table once again, pulling out an assortment of enchanting tools. I watch in fascination as she waves her hand above the eye lying on the metal square, my eye. Light surrounds the eye, and when she moves, her tools sink right through the surface of the device, allowing her to manipulate the inner workings without having to take it apart. She hums to herself as she works, her hands flowing with practiced ease. Twice during the long procedure, she stands to move to a rack of shelves in the far corner of the room. She retrieves several tiny instruments, bringing them back with her to insert into the eye. More than an hour after she has begun the repairs, she stops, taking a break.
Our conversation is light. The woman has a lot to say about Faeth and more recommendations on places to visit in the city than I can accomplish. During the conversation, I find myself asking. “Did you study at the academy?”
“Study, I taught there,” Lady Talagast says. “It was an interesting time in my life, but the pay was not nearly so high as working for myself. The path of enchanting is the path of the future. Those who know that can do very well for themselves. Why?”
“There is a new academic year set to begin in a few weeks. My brother says that he should be able to get me enrolled. I plan to spend a few semesters there, learning enchantment.”
“You have an interest in the enchanting arts? Considering your relation, that doesn’t come as too much of a surprise, but woefully few have an interest in the long, expensive, and frustrating practice of creating with magic. Most magicians choose spellcraft as their focus.”
“I like enchantment,” I say with a shrug. I certainly wasn’t going to tell the woman about my total failure to perform even the most basic piece of spellcraft.
“Good. So, what have you planned for your admission demonstration? There have been some promising applicants in the recent semesters.”
“Admittance demonstration?”
The interest on Lady Talagast’s face fades into annoyance. “Did Corinth not tell you? Even if you are going to purchase a pupilship at the National Academy for the Advancement of Magical Arts, a demonstration of knowledge is still required. For the College of Enchantment, the requirements are to undertake several written exams, followed by a practical demonstration. Typically, prospective enchanters bring something that they have created specifically for the test.”
“Corinth said that I would be able to get in. He didn’t say anything about tests,” I say.
“Oh, you will get in,” she says. “The tests are to determine your skill, potential, and what courses you are most in need of. Tuition is also decided to a degree. The faculty at the academy hate the idea of taking in the privileged merely because they are affluent; they especially hate it when they demonstrate zero ability in the magical arts. There is a tendency to set the costs for such tuition at an incredible rate.”
A part of me wants to be angry with Corinth for failing to relay any of this information to me, but at this point, can I keep holding his forgetfulness against him? Yes. Yes, I can.
“Would you mind giving me some ideas on what I might be able to make to impress the staff at the enchantment college?” I ask.
The Lady returns to her seat across from me, picking up her utensils once more to start tinkering. “If you have an area of enchantment you are interested in making your focus, I would advise going with something like that. Other than that, the judges like novelty. It is an incredible rarity these days.”
We talk for a little longer as she works. By the end, I hardly notice my eye lying on the table between us as we converse. I still notice it, that is to be sure, but I can block out the strangeness long enough to hold a conversation. Lady Talagast spends almost three hours working on the eye before she says that she is finished. By then, the initial anxiety about the suddenly impending exam had mostly eased. After all, as she said, getting into the academy itself was certain if Corinth coughed up enough coin to pay the entry fee. It would simply be my tuition going forward affected and what classes I would be allowed to take. The restriction on my future courses was of some concern, but I am coming to this academy to learn, so if there was something to learn, I would be happy to take any class. The only point of concern would be the price of tuition, but since Danfalla, I had more gold than sense. I could likely afford it.
There is a strange sensation as the cord connecting the artificial eye to something in my head slowly winds up as I bring the eye to my face once again. I squish it between my fingers, pushing it back into place with a pop that sends a shiver down my spine. I blink, half of my vision returning. Several windows of indecipherable text appear and disappear in my vision rapidly.
“Wait until tomorrow to attempt to have the device perform any functions,” Lady Talagast advises. “The changes are still settling on the device, and multiple arrays have been changed in meaningful ways.”
I nod, blinking rapidly as half my vision distorts in ways difficult to describe. Eventually, my sight returns to something approaching normal. My eye aches, the kind of ache that I instinctively know means I shouldn’t mess with it. I can wait until tomorrow.
“Thank you,” I say. “This is more helpful than you know.”
“I know exactly how helpful it is,” she corrects. “I invented the devices after all.”
“Still, thank you.”
“The best way you can thank me is to pay me for my time. My services don’t come cheap, you know. I would say your bill runs at…. six thousand gold crowns. You’re new in the city, so I am betting that you probably haven’t converted your foreign currency. I do so much love the feeling of gold coins, far better than the dull metals we use for coins.”
Suddenly, as she stops speaking and gives me a carnivorous smile, the price of tuition begins to become a real concern.
