Ars Digitalis
Tamurello Ocello
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Tamurello Ocello
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These were the words that lit up my screen one dreary October morning. Some young upstart demanded, just like that, that I teach the inner workings of the universe. They seemed to believe that reality, this steady rock that we all perceive every day, could just be discarded, rewritten on a whim, like using the edit button on a message board.
I don't know how they found me, since my experience isn't well known, isn't advertised. I don't go out of the way to show this stuff, and the name isn't familiar. The words came out of the blue, like a honking car or a wrong number.
Well, curiosity should be satisfied. A little conversation couldn't hurt, and getting their motives would be prudent. After all, they know a few secret things about me, it's only fair that they share some information of their own.
First, though, a little research. Nothing untoward showed up under divination, which was reassuring. Likewise, scrying with what little information I had also came up fruitless. This person, rude and imposing as they seemed, checked out.
The last thing to do before replying was to get a little closer. My familiar, an energetic fox spirit, was sent out to get a better, more intimate look at this person. Sneaky, silent, and undetectable to the uninitiated masses.
Reports should start coming in shortly after, and with all my hidden ducks in a row, it was time to say hi. No sense in spilling the beans all at once, though.
“Let me get my rabbit and hat,” I replied, snarky and ambivalent. All they needed to do is believe that I do stage magic, not the real deal. Randi would have most definitely approved.
“Not that kind. I don't want to play games with people.”
Well, isn't that a surprise. Someone out there really did their homework. They're asking to be toyed with, though, and that sounds like it'd be fun. Make them... work for their right.
“Too bad. I don't do any of that nonsense. Gonna need to find someone else to teach you.”
“Not what I've heard.”
-Sir-. The thought filled my head, but it wasn't mine. Good. The first report was coming in now. Let's find out more about this person, shall we?
-American. New York. Female, mid 20s, no knowledge. She shouldn't be any danger.-
Good. Just what I thought. Wonder what she knows, then.
“You do realize that there's no sorting hat to make this nice and easy.”
“No broomsticks, either. I don't want a fantasy.”
Hm. She responds well. A little on the brusque side, but nothing that staring into the uncaring depths of the cosmos won't fix. Or make worse. There's really no telling what the real universe will do to someone. It'd be an adventure either way.
“Don't know. You don't sound ready to take charge of your very soul. Things... happen... to the unprepared.”
“You think I haven't seen things before,” came the reply, pointed and almost bitter. She's right on that count, definitely. Then again, I have ways of finding things out.
“No, but I know what's out there,” I returned, before giving a shudder. Some things were best left unthought of entirely. Soul loss is the least of someone's worries. Great Old Ones are barely even up the list.
“You sound like an anime kid.”
“You sound in over your head.” Then again, how much trouble could a sleeper get into? The big names don't show up for just anyone.
Color came the report. Deep psyche. Probably a close encounter.
Well. A color from out of space. Not the most dangerous thing out there, but impressive all the same. Poor Arkham. They got hit by one one time, wholly unprepared. Lost an entire family and acres of farmland. Only thing that moves on that blasted land now are the glowing trees at night.
We sat there in silence for a few long minutes. I wondered how she'd found one, and she was probably on Facebook or something. Not like she could really go anywhere anyways.
“Fine. You learn how to get rid of those things,” I finally said. Leaving someone defenseless against the things out there just isn't my style.
It was another while before she responded, but her relief came through almost immediately. She wasn’t the kind to get mushy with gratitude, but she didn't need to. The unsaid thanks dripped off her mind, coloring it a muddy, but deep royal blue.
“So. We'll start with what you know. Or, rather, what you think you know. From now on, assuming only gets you in worse and worse trouble.”
My familiar flowed back into the room, a slippery, bright gold intelligence that pooled and danced around. As he fed on some donated power, she regaled me with tales of her encounter, of reading the Emerald Tablet, and studying the Lesser Key, even. I have to admit shaking my head at the last, not being the greatest fan of the tome. All the same, experience is experience, and while she didn't have a lot of knowledge, she had curiosity, which counts for a lot more.
She was off the mark on a few things, though. She thought she needed a wand for everything, or had to do everything at night. Better that than all that “sky-clad” nonsense.
At this point, she said her goodbyes and logged off, leaving me sitting in silence, starting out the window at just-starting rain. As it fell, rhythmic taps sounded off the roof, and I got up to browse my bookshelf. Tucked in between tomes and grimoires were books on more modern magic, programming and electronics, specifically. Hey, not all magic is dusty and old.
The dresser was another story. Gold and lapis, with a quartz and obsidian saucer, adorned the top of an otherwise ordinary piece of furniture. The centerpiece, though, was a statue of the Golden Field, the Eye of Ra Herself.
My thoughts were quieted for the moment while reflecting on Her, taking Her into myself during my daily devotions. Her spirit filled the room, flooding everything with calm serenity, the kind you get waking up on a summer weekend, although that does not compare. My chest swelled with royal pride, urged on from deep within, and at the edge of hearing, there came the sound of countless kittens, Her children, ready to seize the day.
I stayed in this inner temple for some time, suffused with a supernal sun, and warmed by the grace of the gods. All too soon, though, it was time to leave, to say goodbye to such divinity and to return to the physical.
Returning to my computer, I started to wonder more about this woman, what drove her to seek me out in particular. As said earlier, I don't make a big deal of my skills, and even the local community only knows about my divination. It's not that everything else is taboo or stigmatized, it just never comes up in conversation or business.
My fingers danced across the keys, rifling through the news of the day. Even though nothing ever affected me, even local events, one has to keep on top of things. Today, though, there was an interesting headline. The House had just passed some kind of Internet Blacklist bill, and, well, some of the best spells come from... less than original sources.
Quickly, I checked up on my own site, reading over access attempts and system logs. No crawlers or penetration attempts, which was very good. Nothing out of the ordinary regarding bandwidth usage, either.
Reassured that no one and nothing tried to access my digital library, I pulled out a small Zen garden and sipped another cup of coffee. Rocks were set to the side, and sand was smoothed to form a blank canvas.
Liquid awareness trickled into my brain as I drew a large circle in the white sand, and the vastness of the world's nervous system was laid bare with every line. A square to fill the circle, and triangles on all sides. Another sip, and the flow of data, the real currency of the world, lit up in my mind, clear as day. Around the circle, ad oculos sustinet a emissicus, so that my knowledge might remain private.
A long draw drained my cup, and there, deep in the system, the hidden door to my digital sanctum revealed itself. Carefully, a fragment of hardware, a slip of black magnetic film, was placed in the middle of the circle. This, the most important part, tied everything together. Without it, nothing would happen.
I traced all of the lines again, double and triple checking the entire formula. Reassured that everything was correct, I closed my eyes and pressed my palms together, then gently pushed down on the diagram. The lights flickered, and my computer lit up as it got surrounded with ethereal fire. Finally, arcs of lightning consumed the film, filling the room with the smell of ozone and melted plastic.
The ritual was complete, and another layer of protection seated itself into my server. Nothing major, but it should be enough to keep the dogs at the Department from sneaking into my personal research. Can't be too careful nowadays, with privacy coming at a sad premium.
Ah well. A few minutes are a small price to pay for more peace of mind, and practice never hurt anyone. At the very least, curious, inattentive researchers will pass right on by. Not like that's the only source for spellbooks, anyways.
Now that security has been taken care of, time to form up some lessons for my new student. Start off with the basics, like exploring her own mind, or learning to feel and draw on mana, that prime resource. Well, hmm. Dealing with mana burn might be a little too much at this point. Maybe next week or so. We'll keep it nice and simple until she's ready.
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Grass grows, birds sing, sun shines, and magic flows like a deep, endless river, nourishing fields and powering civilization. Such is the way of things, quietly and sure as the sun moves across the sky. So began a new day, and with it, the start of school.
When I contacted her, she was energetic and eager, and had lost a lot of the attitude that defined her yesterday. Her soul was deep red with streaks of yellow, marking her as strong-willed and inspired, and she quickly reaffirmed her desire for true, supernal enlightenment.
“Today, you will see the world for what it really is,” I said, as I reached out to feel her mind. She couldn't feel me there, and I made a mental note of that.
“What are we starting with,” she asked, sparking with energy and desire. Her colors melted into a muddy blue as I unseated her mind, preparing it for astral travel.
“First, you need to awaken,” I replied, hooking my soul into her very thoughts, making the final preparations. She was understandably confused, not yet understanding her condition. No one really does, until they grow into their birthright.
With that, I pulled. Her mind and my soul poured into the roads between our reality and the astral planes, and, stolen from her physical body, she turned an immediate dark green, insecure and afraid, never having been down this path before. A slight pang of guilt hit me, but we couldn't stop now. There was much to do, and the first step is always the hardest.
We landed in a light wood, and slowly, I let her go, keeping close as I took a comfortable form. Still asleep, she was a softly glowing ball of light, a stark contrast to the soft lines of my self image, a black and gray squirrel.