Part I; Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The morning was as strange as the day before. A full night’s sleep had done Kumo well—she was in a cheerful mood. When Sage had woken up, she found Kumo changed into new clothes and reading a book. Sage kept a few books in her room, Kumo had found them, and invited herself to read it. Apparently, Kumo had adjusted to her settings in just one day. It usually took the new ones a couple of weeks for reality to settle in. Then again, Kumo didn’t have any regrets. It was easier to adjust to something new when you don’t have anything to compare it to in the past, Sage reflected.

They went down to the main cafeteria for breakfast. Sage could have simply created some food with magic, but she thought it best that Kumo should see some more of the building, and more importantly, its occupants. Kumo took one look around the cafeteria and asked, quite surprised, "Why are they all women?"

Sage explained that all the Munda and Magi were women, that’s just the way it was. Sage knew why, but she didn’t want to tell Kumo—that was for a later lesson. There were men here at the building, she explained, but they had only a tiny bit of magic and served as administrators. They, as usual, weren’t up at this hour. Their jobs were less taxing. They only had to keep records and such, whereas the Magi and Munda had to train and improve their magic skills.

They got their food and chose a table to sit at. This is when Sage’s normal personality returned. All the women in the cafeteria were having whispered conversations about the power they felt emminating from ‘the new girl in the corner.’ Some Munda, who were generally more brave and out-going, even stared at her openly. Kumo simply sat there, not being offended. Sage, on the other hand, thought it was annoying in the extreme. One of the munda, an Advanced Munda, Sage could tell by the oval with two small dots on her forehead, walked up to them. She was obviously feeling cocky because of her rank, although it was not higher than Sage’s. She said, "My magi tells me that this girl here has the strongest power she’s ever seen. How long have to been training her and keeping her a secret, huh, Sage?"

Sage had looked up at her with a glare and replied with curtly, "That is none of your business. And you’d better learn to address me properly." Sage let a sly smile seep into her features. Maybe she could teach them a lesson, "but since you asked, I haven’t trained her at all. She came here yesterday."

The tables had turned. The other Munda blanched, "You’re joking. This girl…" She stared candidly at Kumo.

Kumo, wanting to help Sage get the best of this girl, smiled sweetly up at her in agreement with Sage’s statement. The surprised woman quickly returned to her table, with a quick nod and, "Master Munda Sage," quietly so that she showed proper respect. She was, no doubt, telling what had happened to all of her friends.

-




"No, no, no, that’s all wrong," Sage said with a sigh, "You’re trying to bring forward too much magic at once. Try to restrain yourself. Seriously, Kumo, a light spell isn’t that hard."

After breakfast, Sage made good on her promise to start Kumo’s training. Sage decided to start with a simple light spell. She showed Kumo an example, and had Kumo try. But, it wasn’t as easy as Sage thought it would be. She was having the reverse problem that she had had with other students. Most of the time, they didn’t have enough power. Kumo had too much. It was like trying to squeeze an elephant through the eye of a needle.

"But I don’t understand," Kumo said, a little frustrated, "You just showed me a light spell, and expect me to do it. I can’t. I don’t know the first thing about magic."

"Hmph," Sage had thought that someone with Kumo’s amount of power would’ve been able to do anything, but apparently Kumo wasn’t the prodigy Sage had thought she was. Then again, Sage stopped herself; perhaps she had assumed too much. Everyone needed to know the fundamentals of magic before a spell even as miniscule as a light spell was possible. Sage decided she was being unfair to Kumo.

But, rather than apologizing for her presumption, Sage replied curtly, "Alright then, sit down and I’ll explain."

Sage sat down with Kumo. Sage knew she was being a little harsh on Kumo, but hey, life was hard. The encounter with her "fellow" Munda had put Sage back in her normal mood of being, well…rather bitchy. Sage knew she wasn’t the nicest person and accepted it. It was just the way she was. People are stupid, and sometimes you have set them straight. Anyway, Sage didn’t need to treat Kumo like an equal. Sage was very much higher in rank, not to mention being twelve years Kumo’s senior. Sage reasoned that Kumo had already gotten used to being here, so there was no reason for Sage to continue to be nice to her.

Still, there was something affectionate in the way Sage spoke to Kumo. Honestly, Sage didn’t want to hurt Kumo’s feelings. It was sort of the way a teacher would scold a student—it was for the student’s own good. And that’s what they were after all: teacher and student. Sage’s intentions were good. Something michevious danced around in the back of Sage’s head though. It was always there. It was a quiet little voice reminding Sage that she wasn’t always this way. She hadn’t always been a bitch. These past years certainly had changed her. Sage quickly banished these thoughts from her mind, remembering she must speak to Kumo.

"Listen, Kumo," Sage said, "All magic, from a simple light spell to a spell that can kill thousands, comes from your will. It can be any kind of will. We have a saying here: ‘The will to live, to learn, and to fight.’ These are the three most basic wills. The first is to live—as in, creating clothes, food, and things like that. The second, the will to learn—to better ourselves—can be very strong. You saw with the magic-lust. The last is the will to fight, as it is sometimes necessary to with our magic."

Sage left this vague on purpose. Kumo’s brow lowered a little, but Sage continued, " But will can come from other reasons. Any reason, really. It can be channeled through the will to help someone, the will to get revenge, or even the will to kill. Anything that motivates you."

"But, why can’t everyone do it?" Kumo asked. It was a smart question.

"Magic is…" Sage searched for a word, "…a special gift that only some people are born with. A present of chance, if you will. Some people believe it is given to only those strong enough to use it, but personally, I think it’s just chance. Magic is really just a spark. It is a conduit for your will, and makes your will a physical force. But if the spark is not there," Sage motioned, "it will not work. Magic is a combination of natural talent and will. Both effect the strength of a particular person’s magic, although natural talent—unlike will—is limited and can not change no matter how much one wishes it."

"You, incidentally, were born with an amazing amount of magic. Did you notice how everyone here is older than you?"

Kumo nodded, eager to hear more. Sage found it slightly frightening that Kumo was even wary—much less scared, like most students—of what she was hearing. She wasn’t the least bit cautious and drew this new information in like a sponge.

"It is odd that you should be so young, because most people aren’t found until they are eighteen or older. Through childhood and adolescence, the spark is too small for us to detect. Because your power is so great, it developed very fast. Before you, the record for the youngest to be found was sixteen."

Kumo said something then that surprised Sage very much. She said, with a knowing smile, "It was you, wasn’t it?"

Sage was silent for a moment, masking her emotions and expressions. "Yes, it was me. How can you tell?"

Kumo smiled, "The people in the cafeteria were afraid of you." She laughed, "I could tell. People are afraid of power." Sage looked at her, wondering at the simple grace with which she had stated something Sage knew so well. Kumo continued, "That reminds me, that woman, she had an oval and two small circles. You have three circles. And, you said she should ‘show proper respect’. Also, I have a triangle on my head with no dots, and I saw women there that had triangles with one or two dots, even one with three, I think. They must have some sort of significance…?"

"Ah, those," Sage grimaced a little bit, "They show our rank. You are a magi, so you have a triangle. I am a Munda, so I have an oval. You see—"

"Sage, what is a Munda?"

Sage looked at her, and wanted to slap herself for forgetting to tell Kumo earlier. "A Munda means that I have magic, but it is of a different sort. It is fighting magic. Instead of casting spells and such Munda use my magic to fight." Sage smiled slightly, remembering something from her own lessons so many years ago; "Munda is short for ‘mundane,’ meaning I use my hands, swords, and pretty much any weapon I want to perform the mundane act of fighting. It is somewhat of a contradiction, though, because it’s not mundane at all. The magic helps us fight—it increases our speed, stamina, strength, and whatnot. "

Kumo seemed a little confused. "But I have seen you do other magic. And what of the small circles? And that woman called you ‘Master Munda Sage,’ are you—"

Sage put her hand up and smiled, "Slow down, little one,"

Kumo frowned; she obviously didn’t like being called "little one."

Sage continued, "Just because I am Munda doesn’t mean I can’t do magic like a magi. It just means that most of my magic is that of a Munda’s." Sage didn’t want to tell Kumo the details of just how much magi magic she, herself, had and how unusual it was for her to have so much. Too many people resented and feared her because of it. So she changed subjects, addressing another question, "And, like I said before, the small circles show rank. No circles mean you’re a student, one circle means you’re intermediate, two is advanced…"

"…and three…" Kumo said staring at Sage’s forehead.

"…means master." Sage finished. It seemed that Sage couldn’t talk about herself without betraying the position and power she had.

Kumo’s eyes were wide. Their positions seemed to have changed. For once, Kumo was the one in awe of the other’s power. "…How many people here are Master Munda…?"

Sage looked away from Kumo’s face but her expression remained the same, "I am the only one."

"Wow." Kumo said. Then she smiled and laughed, "But aren’t we just the perfect match? They are frightened of us separately, and together…"

Sage didn’t think it was a subject to take lightly, but the way Kumo smiled and laughed made her chuckle lightly as well. Sage thought it was peculiar that Kumo could take something so serious and make Sage laugh.

After her joke, an awkward silence settled over them. Kumo got up and walked to the window. Her face had become serious. She seemed to be lost in thought. She looked out the glass, past the gates, and said, "But Sage, what is the point? Surely…" she turned to Sage, "…you haven’t brought me here just to teach me magic. That would seem like a favor now that you have told me that magic is fickle when picking its hosts."

The hairs on Sage’s neck stood up on end when Kumo said this. She didn’t seem like a fourteen-year-old at all. She had picked up on everything so quickly and was now bringing it all together. Most students didn’t ask this question until several weeks into their training and some never asked. Most were content just to learn. Kumo was too smart, though. She knew that…

"…There must be an ulterior motive." Kumo completed Sage’s thoughts.

Sage now proceeded to stand up.

"Well aren’t you a smart girl," she said, mocking Kumo, but not viciously at all. She continued, "Yes. There are reasons for you to be here. Think about it. You’ve read about the Salem," Sage smiled somewhat ironically at the next word, "’Witch’ Trials, haven’t you?"

Kumo nodded.

"Yes, well, that was before The Institution was created. They were killed because of there magic," Sage’s anger flared, "Can’t you see? We are ostracized. I can see that you were. Everyone knew you were different… somehow. Even though they didn’t know it was magic." Sage reflected on her last months here, feeling the sharp sting of loneliness, even among her own kind. She mentally shook herself; now was not the time for such thoughts. She continued, making her voice smooth and controlled, "The Institution is a refuge for people with magic, where we can thrive with those like ourselves. And we, who live in this building, are here to protect this land and its people if anyone ever attacked it. But, that hasn’t happened in decades. People outside have forgotten about our presence here, it seems."

She paused, letting Kumo draw it in. "There another reason…" Sage said.

Kumo smiled, "I think I know this one…People with magic… simply crave for it?"

Sage sighed. "You’ve got it right. I would imagine that someone with magic left in the other world would feel… rather…"

"Discontented?"

Sage nodded, "In the extreme. Maybe even to the point of madness. Knowing something is different about you—positively sure—but never in your whole life being able to understand what it is…" Sage felt goose bumps on her skin at the thought of living a life without her magic. "But, of course, that is only if a person never managed to tap their magic. But if they did—that is the last, and the most important reason we have brought you, and every single person born with magic, here. If one in the other world managed to harness their magic, the results would be no less than catastrophic. The pure, untrained magic would be a danger to everyone around them."

Sage looked at Kumo with hard green eyes. Kumo nodded, taking in the full meaning and weight of Sage’s words. A responsibility was suddenly put on Kumo’s shoulders, although she seemed happy to take it.

Sage cleared her throat and regained her composure. Such an odd first lesson.

Sage said, "Now that you understand, shall we get back to the light spell?"

Kumo was more eager than ever, so she plopped herself on the floor. The conversation had cleared up some of her questions.

This conversation had turned out rather depressing for Sage. It had reminded her that, even with magic and her great ability, rank, and prestige, she was not content. The other world seemed, for the first time, inviting. She finally had the magic she had dreamed and hoped for for so many years, but it did not make her happy.

Just then, as Sage was lost in thought, Kumo put the palm of her hand towards the ceiling and closed her eyes. A little ball of white light appeared a few inches above her hand—the perfect light spell.

-



Sage, who was proud of Kumo for accomplishing her first spell (but would not tell her, of course), felt invigorated and taught Kumo the whole day. Sage could tell that Kumo was impressed with Sage’s power, even though she was just getting a taste of it. The simple spells that Sage was teaching her—fire spells, water spells, and levitation of small objects—required only miniscule power on Sage’s part.

And so, two weeks past in this fashion. Kumo was a quick learner, Sage noticed. She didn’t question too much and seemed very content with her own progress. Magic was, to Kumo, very interesting, Sage observed. Kumo remained cheery throughout her mistakes, instead of getting frustrated or upset. She would often laugh when she did something wrong. She seemed perfectly content to eat, sleep, and most importantly, learn.

Sage noticed something about herself, too. She was not as depressed with Kumo around. She didn’t dread each coming day, but instead started to be somewhat excited at what she could teach Kumo the next day. But something bothered her through it all; she was never really happy. Memories of days past long ago haunted her, and even the cheery Kumo could not repress the sadness they left in their wake. When Sage laid down to sleep, the black backdrop of her closed eyes returned and memories came all too easily. But still, being preoccupied with Kumo’s training was wonderful—it saved Sage from being bombarded by these memories by day.

One day, while learning one of the ways to manipulate water, Kumo had asked a peculiar question. She was looking at Sage strangely and said quite candidly, "Sage, how long is your hair?"

Sage looked at her equally as perplexed and replied, "What kind of question is that?"

"Well, it’s just that I’ve never seen you with your hair down. You always wear it the same way. And I was wondering…how long it was." Kumo didn’t seem to think it was a strange question at all.

Sage frowned, "It’s none of your business. Anyway what kind of question is that, ‘how long is your hair?’ Does it really matter?"

Kumo smiled at Sage’s rudeness. She had become accustomed to it and was starting to see it as a kind of affection. Which it was. She was a quick girl. She smiled coyly, "Aw, come on, Sage. Lemme see."

Sage was starting to get annoyed. "Kumo," she said with a little-bit-too-strong glare, "that is quite enough. The length of my hair, and whether I wear it up or down, is of no concern to you. Now please, let’s get back to the water?"

Kumo was a little bit taken aback by Sage’s reply. Sage felt bad about it later because she had been mean to Kumo for real. But she felt even worse about it because it had been an innocent question. Kumo hadn’t realized it, but she had breached the barrier of Sage’s past and Sage had snapped at her when it wasn’t really Kumo’s fault. It had proved, privately to Sage, that even Kumo’s friendship could not shake her everlasting remorse.

-


Kumo’s training was going well. She was progressing at an abnormal speed, which was to be expected. She was refining her raw power and turning it into something useable. Sage had also taught her how to mask her magic and prevent it from showing so much. But even with this, anyone with magic could tell that Kumo was extremely powerful.

They had been working on creation spells for the few days, and Kumo knew how to create her own clothes and food. It was a very practical talent. Kumo liked to wear simple, but fashionable, clothing. She liked to wear shades of blue, green, gray, and brown on skirts and pretty shirts. Normally this kind of fashion annoyed Sage, but it seemed to befit Kumo. Sage, on the other hand, liked to dress herself in black, gray, white, and sometimes red. She wore only pants because she couldn’t fight in skirts. At least that was the reasoning she gave herself.

Also, most importantly, Sage had told Kumo about how at all times she must control her magic-lust because it could be dangerous. Kumo understood completely, and promised to keep it under control. Most students got a little bit embarrassed when they were told about this, as if magic was something to be ashamed of if it got out of control. Kumo wasn’t ashamed at all; in fact, she seemed to think magic was very natural. Sage agreed.

Sage knew that she would have to do what most people called the "vacation" part of the training soon. Sage didn’t really think it was a vacation; it was a requirement. The people were always bowing to you and staring at the mark on your head. It was annoying. The others liked to be pampered, but Sage preferred privacy.

Regardless, it was necessary to give Kumo this "lesson," Sage talked to her the next day. They went to the same training room they did every day. She cleared her throat, "Kumo, do you remember that I told you that it is our responsibility to protect this land?"

Kumo nodded, "Yes, I remember."

"Well, one of your lessons is to see this land, this land that you are to protect. So…today and tomorrow we’re going to see it."

"Really?" Kumo looked excited, "Yay! Trip!"

She giggled. As Sage and Kumo had been becoming more accustomed to each other, Kumo had become more bubbly and careless. Sage crossed her arms and scowled, but at the same time tried mightily to surpress her own laughter. The way Kumo acted Sage usually didn’t like in a personality but Kumo was different. It didn’t annoy Sage. It was strange; she didn’t want to go on the trip, but somehow Kumo lightened her mood.

"Let’s go." Sage said, rolling her eyes. "Hmm…you remember when I first got you, I did a transportation spell?"

"Yes."

"Well I’m going to do it again. Try to learn something from it?"

"You know I’m always learning." Kumo smiled.

"Well that’s what you should be doing," Sage said, throwing another scowl at Kumo, "Where we’re going…well, it’s a little bit…different. You see, when you have magic, things like electricity, telephones, computers…well they just aren’t necessary. So, you can imagine life’s a little different there."

Kumo gave her a quizzical look. Sage raised an eyebrow. "Well, you’ll understand when you get there. Let’s go."

And so, Sage started to walk out of the room. Kumo did not move, looked confused, and said, "Why can’t we just transport from here?"

Sage turned around to face her. "Kumo, can you walk through walls, doors, ceilings, and such?"

"No, of course not."

"Well, neither can I. Even though the transportation spell moves your body at very high speeds, your body it still there, and can run into things. For this reason, we have to do it outside. Magic is logical, Kumo, and it certainly can’t do everything."

Kumo nodded, glad to learn something new, and followed Sage out the door.

-





They arrived in the city, on a street exactly where Sage had intended. Kumo was wide-eyed looking at the surroundings and its people. The buildings were simple but sturdy and built close together. They were built mostly out of wood, because it was easy to conjure and manipulate with magic. They weren’t tall; most were only one or two floors in height. There were people in the streets selling trinkets they had made with some spell they were good at, or selling food, or pretty much anything else. There were children laughing and running around, chasing each other. Some people were out walking from shop to shop or maybe a restaurant. The streets were dirt because they didn’t needed to be paved. People didn’t need cars here.

The people in the city wore simple clothes. Fashion had its own course here because it was isolated from the outside world, while having a certain remenance of the other world’s fashion due to the small but constant flow of new ones. It was unusually warm for this time of year, so the people were mostly wearing shorts and tee shirts—shorts and tee shirts of their own fashion, of course.

These people looked at them the same way they always. It was normal to see someone appear through a transportation spell, but the people could always tell something was different. If they were close, they could see the marks on their forehead, and if they weren’t close enough to see they could feel the magic. Also, these different people who appeared every so often were always young women.

Sage hated how they looked at her. They always bowed; it was a tradition. These people had less magic than Sage and Kumo and therefore were lower in some sort of social hierarchy. But, people with less magic weren’t treated worse. Magic was fickle, so they weren’t penalized because they hadn’t been lucky enough to be endowed with as much magic as the next person was. Everyone was human, after all. This time, however, when they bowed they seemed more reverent than usual, maybe even a little afraid. These were simple people; most could only do rudimentary spells and a few harder ones that they had a talent for. Kumo and Sage, however, were from the main building, and could use much more powerful magic than these simple folk. It was crazy how some rumors spread through these towns about what powerful magic people could do at the main building. Sage caught herself; maybe it wasn’t so crazy in her own case. Worse, these people’s beliefs—however false or exaggerated—were only being confirmed by the immense magic flowing out of Kumo and Sage, even thought they were doing their best to conceal it.

Sage didn’t acknowledge the people on the street who bowed to her; she didn’t need to. Kumo was still interested in the people, but followed Sage into a building when Sage walked into it. It was a hotel of sorts, not glamorous, but it was comfy and clean. Sage used it every time she came to this city.

She walked up to the manager, who was sleeping with his head on the counter. This city, while prosperous, wasn’t busy or rushed at all. Kumo giggled a little bit and said, "May I have the honor?"

Sage backed up a little bit, and nodded in silent agreement. Kumo placed a finger to the man’s forehead, and sent a very small flow of magic into it. He awoke immediately. "Wha—who’s magic was…?" and finally seeing Sage he added, "Oh, ma’am," he bowed his head and then said, "what a pleasant surprise."

Sage knew he was just being polite. The people had heard rumors about her being the only Master Munda and about how powerful she was. She was the Munda who still had almost all of her Magi magic. Sage knew that even though these people were pleasant, she couldn’t be lax with them. She assumed an authoritative tone and said, "We’ll be needing a room tonight. Two beds."

The man smiled a little bit less, looked at her strangely, and then his eyes flickered to Kumo. "Only two?"

The man was used to suiting parties of three. Usually it was one student and two teachers. Sage was slightly annoyed. She thought he shouldn’t be questioning her and added harshly, "Yes. Two."

The man assumed an innocent look of a fake apathy, and added, "As you wish."

Sage paid and the man told them what room they would have. Sage didn’t bother going up to the rooms, as they had no luggage. She just took the key and led Kumo out of the building. It was time for lunch anyway.

-



They had given Sage a table the corner, but it had one side open the street. Sage and Kumo had ordered lunch, and now they were eating it. Anything could be ordered, if you went to the right restaurant, since it was made with magic. Sage had asked Kumo if she wanted to go to a Japanese restaurant, but Kumo had replied that she liked American food, so they went to an American restaurant. Chefs at these restaurants were employed by their knowledge of different types of food and their ability to make them with magic. Most of the time, chefs from certain countries would come together and make a restaurant specializing in that nation’s food. After all, how could you make a meal, even with magic, if you had no idea what it was and what it consisted of?

"…mmm, this is delicious." Kumo said.

She had ordered a hamburger with fries.

Sage smiled and nodded. "How do you like it here?"

Kumo looked out in the street and chewed the last bit of her food. "It surprising, to say the least. It’s amazing how these people live with magic. And everyone’s so happy. I haven’t seen or heard anything unpleasant. I mean, certainly there are things wrong, but this seems like a nice place to be…" She suddenly looked confused and continued, "but where exactly is ‘here’? Where are we—where in the world, I mean?"

Sage had been expecting this question for quite some time. She was surprised Kumo hadn’t asked it earlier. Sage supposed that it really hadn’t mattered to Kumo before. What had really mattered was that she was here. Geographically speaking, wanting to know where she was seemed like nothing more than an afterthought.

"The truth is, Kumo, is that I’m not exactly sure. Certainly, I have my suspicions, but I don’t think anyone really knows except the Mistress. All I know is that we exist inside a larger country, in a supposedly uninhabited area. I would imagine some of them know we’re here—or at least their leaders. It’s never really given us trouble. Maybe we pay them. I have no idea. I guess you could say we’re a very well-kept secret."

Kumo didn’t look completely satifyied. She said, "There’s something else that’s been bothering me. You’ve said this is a peaceful place and yet all those people back at the main building are being trained to protect it. I understand that we’re being brought here for other reasons as well, but those reasons don’t explain the reason for having a place like the main building where we’re trained to fight and hurt people with our magic."

"Ah," Sage said, "First, there’s always the threat."

Kumo didn’t buy it; Sage could tell. Sage was privately happy she hadn’t taught Kumo how to mask her emotions and face expressions yet.

Sage cleared her throat. "…and it’s a tradition. More importantly, though, it has to do with how we gain rank. To figure out who has more magic, we fight. But that is for a later lesson." Sage coughed.

Kumo didn’t seem to think her question had been answered. "I just have a hard time believing that this place is completely peaceful. Everywhere, there is at lease some unrest."

Sage looked at her with a serious expression, contemplating her maturity and the weight of the decision Sage was about to make. Ultimately, she knew she had no choice. She looked around the restaurant. No doubt people were listening to their conversation discreetly. It wasn’t everyday Master Munda Sage came to town. She said to Kumo, "Come with me."

Sage left money on the table and walked out. Kumo walked next to her. "Excuse me for a moment, Kumo."

Kumo looked at her quizzically, but when Sage’s eyes started glazing over, Kumo understood.

‘Mistress, are you there?’ Sage thought.

There was a brief wait. The Mistress was a busy woman. But then, Sage heard her voice.

Yes, child, I am here. I only have a few moments to talk, though.

‘A few moments are all I need. I’m talking with Kumo and I want to tell her about our…problems…’

There was a pause.

Sage, it is your choice. She is your student. Do you want to get her involved?

‘She would make a valuable ally.’

Yes, that is true.

Pause.

I must go, Sage. Duty calls. It is your choice. Closing link now.

Sage’s eyes unglazed.

"An ally for what?" Kumo looked up at Sage and blinked innocently.

Sage looked at Kumo incredulously, "Kumo…could you hear…?"

Kumo giggled. "I didn’t hear it all because it took me a moment to figure out how it worked.

Sage couldn’t believe it. It was true; the girl was always learning. Telepathy was not easy magic, though.

"So…an ally for what? Does this have anything to do with my earlier question?"

Sage said, "Yes." Sage wondered quickly whether she was doing the right thing, but there was no turning back now. Kumo might have indirectly and unintentionally just made the most important decision of her life by overhearing even part of that conversation. Sage wondered how to phrase this. "Kumo, what do you think would’ve happened if you hadn’t come willingly with me here?"

"I don’t know."

Sage’s face became somewhat serious, "Well, I would’ve knocked you out and brought you here while you were unconscious. In fact, that’s what we have to do with most new ones. We can’t leave someone with magic in the outside world. It would be too dangerous."

Kumo didn’t seem to be surprised. She must have gathered as much, or at least had that suspicion, by now.

Sage continued, "So…eventually, most people see that this is a good place to live and like it. But some people believe—"

"—that people shouldn’t be brought here against their will?" Kumo completed Sage’s sentence.

"Exactly." Sage replied, "and sometimes these people become violent. We call them ‘rogues,’ sometimes. I told you before that you can’t leave. That’s not exactly true. You could leave, but you would have all your magic taken away and you would never be permitted to come back."

Sage could see the horror in Kumo’s eyes.

"Why would someone want to do that…" she stammered.

Sage knew that Kumo was afraid of losing her magic. Magic was a gift, and once someone knew it was there they never wanted to part with it. It was binded to their very soul.

"So these people, Kumo, believe that people should be able to live with their magic in the outside world. It’s crazy. Even a fully trained magi or munda would eventually use her magic in a way that would hurt others. People are terrified of magic—even if it is using benevolently. People are afraid of what they don’t understand. But, what even, it wasn’t benevolent? What if someone used it to gain an advantage over others?" Sage turned away and kept walking. She was becoming angry. "Can’t you see what kind of danger that would unleash?"

"Yes, I do." From her tone, Sage could tell she really meant it, and that she had thought about it before. Kumo continued, "But what prevent them from just walking out?

Sage frowned, "Ah. You see, the gates are protected by an ancient magic. Only the Mistress can open and close them. So rogues believe that if they kill the Mistress the gates will open. Or somehow they will be able to open them. Fools." Sage looked like she was about to breathe fire.

"So they…these ‘rogues’… try to kill the Mistress?" Kumo asked; she seemed to be very interested and terrified at the same time.

Sage laughed bitterly, "I wish. The Mistress is very well protected. If they tried to attack her, we would crush them easily. So, instead, they go for the ones protecting her. Slowly picking them off one by one, or at least trying to. In this month alone we’ve lost three intermediate magi, two intermediate munda, three advanced magi, and two advanced munda. And that’s not counting the rouges themselves." Sage looked at the people around her and the city with an odd expression of anger and, suspiciously, caring. She continued, "As you can imagine, the debate over this is as old as the Institution. Every once and a while, people get excited about it again, and then they loose interest, realizing that this is their true home. Only about a decade ago, it started as peaceful resistance again. Protests, petitions, speeches—things like that. I can remember being a student like you and hearing about it. But only in the past two years has it become violent."

Kumo seemed upset at hearing about this; her perfect world had just been shattered. "Sage," her voice was a little shaky, "how can they achieve this? Surely Magi and Munda at the main building wouldn’t…" she shook her head, and her silver hair reflected the sun.

Sage grimaced, "That’s the worst part. We’re not sure who all at the main building is behind this. What the rogues do is…" her voice became harsh and unforgiving, "…they control Magi and Munda. We don’t know how." She clenched her fists, "and then they have these women attack. We have no choice but to kill these women. We can’t reason with them. Under whoever’s control their will is so strong that they are quite powerful and can’t be reasoned with. We don’t know how to reverse the spell. Believe me, we’ve tried—and lost many excellent allies in the attempt."

They were silent for a long time; both were lost in thought. Sage found herself outraged at having to think about this. Some of the people on the street were staring openly at Sage because she was letting off a lot of magic—the anger was allowing her concealment to slip. The more Sage though about it, the more upset she became. She felt like crying in frustration and anger. But, she would not cry. She never cried. She had only cried once in the ten years she had been here. Memories of that time started to creep up on her. She would not permit them. She turned to Kumo.

"So. I am one of the people who fights against this threat." Sage’s eyes were cold as stone—and as hard and determined. "You, Kumo, have extraordinary power. You would be a valuable ally. Will you help us?"

Kumo stood straight and tall. A small fire was flickering in her eyes. She seemed to have already made her decision. "Yes."

Sage smiled, relieved and worried and the same time. "It will be dangerous."

"The alternative seems more so," she said, the determination on her face making her look twice as old as she really was.

Sage nodded her head.

Then, Kumo’s determination seemed to slip away. The light in her eyes was extinguished and she looked oddly sad. The moment seemed to have caught her and now she was thinking more carefully about all that she had learned. She looked up at Sage, and her eyes looked confused. They were they eyes of a child who was coming to realize the cruelty of the world.

"Why, Sage? What problem do people have with…this world? Why do these rogues feel it necessary to leave with their magic?"

Sage sighed. "They believe that this world isn’t…" she searched for the right word, "…real. They believe, like I said before, that we shouldn’t be ‘confined’ here. They are running from the truth. They think this world isn’t real because we’re cut off from the outside world completely and permanently."

Kumo seemed to understand and added a little sadly, but meaningfully, "They can’t accept this world, so they flee from it."

Sage smiled sadly at her, "What they can’t figure out is that people want to be here. This is our haven, our world. It isn’t perfect; nothing can ever be. But it’s pretty damn close. We create our own destiny, Kumo. They think we’re deluding ourselves when it’s really the other way around."

Sage realized now that she had absent-mindedly been walking up a familiar path. They had been walking up some steps on a rather steep hill, but Sage hadn’t noticed because of the conversation. Now, the view was beautiful; on this elevated ground Sage could see almost all of the city. The late afternoon sun was still shinning brightly in the sky, even though it would soon leave the city to be consumed by darkness. Sage stood and looked out over the city. Then she knew why she had taken this path; Nikita had taken her here. She remembered ten years ago, standing near here with Nikita and Jillian. There had been no violent rogues back then. Only magic for her to learn, and a whole new world of opportunities. Sage felt as if a great weight was pressing down on her chest as she remembered peaceful days long past. She spoke to Kumo, but still had her eyes fixed on the city.

"What the rogues can’t understand is that…" she looked up a little, and squinted her eyes defiantly in the afternoon sun, "…a world is only as real as you make it."


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