Nun the Wiser – 7

Three days.

You were stuck in the 9 o’clock tower for three friggin’ days, trying to figure out how to automate a spatial enchantment. No sleep, minimal breaks, just you, a nun, a dhampir, and your boyfriend ramming your heads against magical equations.

You are Cirrus. You don’t know why Dean Sher’khan cast the spells to keep you guys going. You don’t know who wrote the weird books on spatial magic. You don’t know how Klein could act so casual about the borderline abusive study methods.

All you know is that the bed you’re in is comfy. So very comfy…even if it does rise and fall in a comforting rhythm. After three days, you were pretty much a number-crunching zombie. Dean Sher’khan found the four of you and reluctantly dispelled the magic keeping you awake. And that’s all you remember.

You blink away the sleep and nearly let out a yelp.

You’re still in the nine o’clock tower, on one of the couches in the tenth story lounge. Straddling your boyfriend.

Heat crawls from your neck all the way to the tips of your twitching ears. Did you collapse on him and fall asleep, just like that? You grab your glasses from a nearby table, and take a good look at Klein. His normally stern face is relaxed, free of the worry that he carries when he’s awake. If the past three days are any indication, it’s no wonder he’s so high-strung all the time.

You were never really one to care about relationships. Atmomancy is the magic school that allowed goblins to put their foot in the door for Camelot University, and you’ve sworn that there would be no distractions before becoming a weather archmage. It’s not like you’re a catch in the looks department anyways…You’re lacking in a lot of areas, and you don’t even have the personality to make up for it.

At least, that’s what you thought. Until a librarian invited you out for a drink, and you got to talking. You originally went out with him to discuss atmomancy and develop your magic.

Then you…clicked. Your humor meshes well with his, you understand each other on your long tangents about magic, and just being with him makes you feel at ease. When you went out with him during a scheduled thunderstorm and he caught a lightning bolt in a bottle, your heart did a friggin somersault.

And now you’re straddling him. After sleeping on him, like he’s your husband. You slap your cheeks and shake your head. He stirs from the noise and you scramble off him. You keep yourself at arm’s length from the rest of the student body, but you still have a few friends that are terrible gossips. The less they know about how close you are with Klein, the better.

You look at the pile of books leaning against the couch. Was it a security risk to pass out in public with a bunch of books from the forbidden section of the main library? Probably.

Dean Sher’khan helped you, Klein, and Scarlet understand the more difficult books. The one that really got your attention is ‘Space and Time Magic For the Beautiful Black-haired Goblin With a Nice Chest’. It was really awkward to cover the book, for several reasons beyond the clearly lecherous personality of the author.

The information was valid, if you could ignore the weird descriptions relating space-time to the bodies of different species. Star kept blushing and shifting uncomfortably, her fangs poking past her lips and her pupils in slits. For a nun, Scarlet was oddly indifferent about it, her ears not even twitching under her vestments. And Klein was weirdly ashamed, refusing to look Dean Sher’khan or you in the eye throughout the whole lesson.

He later admitted that the titular goblin tricked him and stole the books from the forbidden section. Which lends a lot of credibility to the author, seeing as they knew their book would be forbidden and stolen in the future.

You flip through the pages, trying to spot any other references to the goblin after the incredibly lewd preface.

“What are you reading?”

“Nothing!” You slam the book shut. “Just trying to get a head start on the day!”

“We’ve still got a couple hours of break left.” Klein stretches, not noticing the wet patch of drool you left on his chest. “Trust me, Dean Sher’khan gave us the time for a reason. The next spell hangover will be even worse if we don’t distract ourselves.”

“How often has the Dean used that spell on you?” The backlash is intense for a mental spell. “My limbs are wobbly and my mouth is dry…”

“You get used to it.” Klein rolls his head around in a practiced motion. “The Higher Mental Focus spell is perfect for cramming. It’s easier for those with a lot more magic in their bodies, though. Fitting for an archmage-level spell.”

“So Star and Scarlet are dealing with it better than we are.”

“Yeah.” Klein sighs. “Still, we’re close to a breakthrough, I can feel it. If I can get a couple more hours-"

“Aren’t we supposed to relax?” You give him a look. "From the blistering headaches we have?"

He winces.

“Tell you what!” You motion for him to lower so you can lay your arm over his shoulder. “Let's go out. Now's a good time, there's hardly anyone around to stare.”

He smiles. Since the demon incursion escalated, there have been emergency drafts for all capable warmages. There was word that the major universities and Mage Orders offered full rides and membership for aid in the Fifth Crusade. All in all, there were a lot less people to gawp at you guys on date.

Every apprentice capable of combat, every knight order, and almost every archmage was conscripted three days ago. The scale of the demon incursion is greater than anticipated, spreading throughout central Prillia. Radio towers were destroyed and contact with dozens of cities and hundreds of towns was lost. This is why the Dean has you guys working overtime. The Thaumirrors may be the last hope short of the Empyreans themselves.

If things get bad enough for them to interfere…well, nobody wants a New New Continent.

But for now...a small rest. A reprieve, for just the two of you.

You and your boyfriend head down the stairs and and a cold chill howls up the staircase. You hug your boyfriend's pantleg and blink as the bright morning glares through the window.

Right, there was a snow scheduled. The first snow of winter blankets Camelot in a thick white.

You look up the staircase and cock your head to listen. You ears, sensitive enough to air currents, barely twitches as the lightest happy chattering echoes from the top of the tower. How will Star react to the first snow of the year? For someone who can never leave the tower, it must be...different for her.

Lonely.

Well, maybe once. The two voices sound happy.

"I wonder what they talk about us when we're gone."

"Without us there, Scarlet wouldn't have anyone to accuse of being lewd." Your boyfriend huffs wryly. "So who knows?"

"Why are you still reading that...book?" Star looks away from the two-page spread of a very familiar goblin in a pinup pose, dense texts blocking all the erogenous regions. "The details on magic are sound, but..."

Star's room is as immaculate as ever. That is to say, piles of books lining the walls, binders full of notes scaffolding the separations, and a nice little table in the middle of the room where you drink tea and read books together.

You are Quinn, pretending to be Scarlet Lily. Which is hard, because a high elf nun like Scarlet Lily wouldn't have a good reason to read a lurid book on space-time magic without frowning the whole time. So you keep a subtle air of disapproval while you read, preventing even the tiniest bit of amusement from appearing on your face. Again, that's hard, on account of the fact that the book also spends a lot of time detailing what you're pretty sure are your G-spots across several of your bodies and transformations.

What kind of timey-wimey magical bullshit is that?

"I feel like there's a code involved." You explain for Star, relishing her blush as you trail your fingers across sections of the page. "The author tends to linger on certain descriptions. Maybe there's some kind of secret message in these descriptions."

"There aren't any spelling mistakes or strange capitalizations." Star purses her lips and quickly shakes her head. "Not that I checked very thoroughly! I just made a quick read through, I didn't even stare at the pictures!"

She bites her lip and pointedly looks away from the book. She's so damned cute when she's like this. It makes you want to grab her close and read it with her, feel her squirm as you get into detail describing all your sexy curves and sensitive spots. Then, you'd guide her hand between your thighs and...

Wow, the aftereffects of Sher'khan's spell are hitting hard. You're a bit peckish for some sexy nerd smoochin', and this book is not helping. Damn you for getting horny looking at yourself! But can you blame you? Look at yourself kicking her legs and laying on your belly, the curve of your bust perfectly encapsulated by the text. It almost looks like that goblin pinup is about to wink your way. Stupid, sexy you.

"Whelp!" You slam the book shut and adopt a tone of stern disapproval. "There's only so much degeneracy I can take. I thought Ezekiel 23:20 would have prepared me, but I was wrong."

"Ezekiel 23:20?"

"A section in the holy texts about a woman lusting after her lovers' genitals, which were as big as donkeys' and-"

"Never mind, never mind!" Star claps her hands on her ears with a bright blush. "I don't know what I expected!"

You hide a giggle behind your hand. Too damn cute.

Star's presence has made the author's insights much clearer. You've got a decent idea on how spatial magic works thanks to Labor's natural talent, and the use of the console in Haven gave you a head start in time dilation. With Star and Space and Time Magic For the Beautiful Black-haired Goblin With a Nice Chest’, you've rocketed past the need for the console's training wheels and have got a good idea on how to help Labor with his space manipulation magic. Soon, your cute little shota will be able to teleport anywhere in Haven. Maybe build stable temporary portals!

The time manipulation stuff is a lot harder. Space is stable, easy to grab and mold. But time is always flowing, so you have to predict when and how any time spells would work before even casting it. Suffice to say, time magic is not something even Star could improv. Especially since it's far more resistant than its counterpart.

Still, what you've learned so far has pushed progress on the FSN by leaps and bounds. You're close to a breakthrough, though. Very close.

Speaking of getting very close...

"So if we're not studying, you want to play in the snow for a bit?"

Star freezes at your offer for some fun.

"Scarlet, you know I'm not allowed to leave the tower."

"Come onnnn!" You whine and kick your feet. "I've seen you staring out the window every couple minutes. When was the last time you got to play in the snow?"

"...Decades." She gnaws on her pen, then shakes her head again. "But I'm not going out. Too risky."

You sigh. What a wasted opportunity. It's practically a winter wonderland out there. Sure, there's not as many people as you expected. Hell, you barely see any of the usual knights roaming around. But that makes it the perfect time for some winter funtime! Nobody would notice if you and Star spent a little time outside, building snowmen, drinking hot chocolate, cuddling...

Not to mention the cold will help you temper the fire in your loins.

"Well, if we can't go out into the snow...how about we bring it in here?" You give Star a winning grin. "How hard would it be to muster a little snowcloud?"

Star's violet eyes widen and her ears give a little wiggle. Her interest is piqued. You and her spend the next hour or so pouring over Cirrus' atmomancy notes and practicing your ice magic to make a little cloud in the center of her room. Star levitates the table and tea set out of the way and you send a pulse of magic to activate the cloud.

A solid ice cube drops from the cloud. With a sound like a a vending machine, a few more clunk and clatter in a pile.

"Oops." You grin sheepishly.

"Here, let's fix that a bit." Star begins, and you lean closer to feel her magic in action.

She shudders and shrinks away, her magic arresting at a critical moment. You're afraid you might have distracted Star, but a beautiful snowflake falls from-

THUNK.

The snowflake, about as big as a dinner plate and as sharp as a blade, embeds itself into the floor a few inches from your foot.

"Performance issues?" You ask innocently.

"I, uh, my bad." Star shuffles nervously. "This usually never happens."

"I know you can do it." You offer her a comforting smile, then strike a pose. "Believe in the me that believes in you!"

"I-what?"

Your super chaste and super inspiring cheerleading almost makes her mess up again.  Star recovers easily, and with a wave of her hand, the magic corrects itself and gentle little snowflakes drift from the cloud. Soon enough, there's a growing pile of snow collecting under the cloud. Star puts her hand in the pile, a small smile spreading across her features as she moves it around and clumps it together. She holds up a small bit of the powdery snow and holds it up to you.

"How's that?" She almost seems scared of your opinion.

"Perfect."

"Like you," you almost say.

"It was actually quite an interesting challenge." Star marvels at the snow in her hands. "We could have designed a cloud that would replicate the exact same kind of snowflake, but it wouldn't have been accurate to natural snow."

"Which makes it ideal for the first winter snow's tradition." You nod sagely.

"Oh? Is there a unique cultural practice involving the first-" Pomf!

The snow scatters down from Star's surprised face.

"Snowball fight!" You ball up another snowball and prepare to fire.

Star dodges and rushes into the pile to form a few more snowballs of her own. Curses! There's only one munitions factory, and the opposition has laid a claim! You conjure up a few more clouds, none nearly as productive as Star's, and the two of you begin making your munitions and tossing them at each other. Star's reflexes are a lot faster than you thought from a bookworm, her vampiric speed really shining through despite how awkwardly she seems to move. Her clouds make snow faster, and her snowballs fly like a storm of fluffy white bullets, but you have experience on your side.

After all, you've spent more than a couple nights in futafication snowball fights with your spawn.

Okay, maybe just twice, since it inevitably ended up in (very cold) futanari orgies.

Still, you gave nearly as good as you got, hitting Star a fair few times as she stained your vestments white. For once, you're white in something that was actually 'pure'. Your giggling snowball fight gets more intense, forming snowballs and launching them with magic to return Star's onslaught. One of your snowballs goes wide and hits the nearby radio, turning it on mid-report.

"-peat, new information is coming in on the escalation of the demon attacks. The Senate has officially confirmed that we are now suffering from a Category Five demonic invasion, with the Goblin Coast, Elven Forests, and Bloodsucker Swamps suffering the most damage so far."

Hold on, what? A snowballs hits you in the chest, but you're no longer paying attention. You drop your own ball listlessly and get closer to the radio to listen.

"The Holy Knights, Arcanoknights, and the Knights of the Principality have been fully mobilized, with battlemages and wizards across Prillia to be conscripted. There are numerous reports of destroyed villages. We've lost contact with several major cities throughout the afflicted regions, with smaller Orders communicating harsh conditions and battles facing imps, chain demons, ice demons, fire demons, magic-wielding demons, and named demons."

"Moon's mercy..." Star gasps. "This is the biggest demon invasion in over five hundred years."

No. No, no, no! You sent your kids out there! You thought it was going to be a little adventure, get their pent up energy out of their system! Now your cute little perverts are in trouble! You don't want to lose Saturday, March, April, December, Halloween, Emancipation, Burdock, Iris, Nightshade, Plum, Spruce, and whatever other friends they made along the way!

"Casualties are estimated to be in the hundreds of thousands. Several smaller knight orders have been confirmed to be eradicated. May the Empyreans and the Outer God lend us their gra-"

KZZKT!

Shit. You just crushed the radio.

You’ve been busy. Very busy.

You are Dean Sher’khan, master of a thousand schools of magic, Dean and acting Headmaster of the prodigious Camelot University, Keeper of Secrets, and grand organizer of the incursion defense. True, there are others who may claim to be the brains behind securing Prillia.

There are the Masters of the five major Knight Orders.

Except you were the one that coaxed the Earthwill Knights out of their impenetrable fortress to organize a southbound attack, convinced the Arcanoknights to mount an assault from the east coast, penned a plea to the Solar Knights to bring back most of their forces to Prillia.

The Senate has been in a chaotic frenzy, too slow to realize the scale of the incursion.

Beaming images of the massacres directly into their minds got them to get organized with very minor naysaying.

There’s the Soothsayer Society, though they’ve been stuck in a confused limbo for longer than you’ve been alive.

Thankfully, someone got them to lend some scryers to help establish a minimum of intelligence gathering.

You even pled with the Headmasters of Crucible College and Great Tree University to do as you have and allow the conscription of graduate students. If you were capable of pride, you’d feel ashamed of getting on your hands and knees. There was no better way to get them to act than arouse their egos.

Just in time, too. The Great Tree University was almost caught off-guard by demon battalions. Their magic may be inefficient, reductive,  and flashy, but they are still guardians of a large repository of knowledge that must be preserved.

Your tertiary magus minds work overtime to organize the war effort and make up for the conscripted teachers’ workload, leaving you perpetually drained and on the verge of a migraine.

What’s that? Put a pause on classes? Nonsense, nothing is more important than the fostering of knowledge.

Sadly, you are still human. You have not slept in four days, and despite intricate spellwork, you can only stave off your mortal limitations for so long. Somehow, the demons know to destroy radio towers and capture messenger pigeons. Meaning over seventy-five percent of all demon defense intelligence gathering happens through you.

Which is why you are so keen on establishing the FSN and the Thaumirrors.

It was a risk to involve Quinn early on. The project accelerated by leaps and bounds when Star joined her.

And now, the four students are aware of what’s at stake. Three wait outside your office, the fourth sits before you, chewing anxiously on the pen you gave her for her twelfth birthday.

“The others are worried. So am I! What if—”

“Click.”

Star expends some of her nervous energy by clicking her pen several times per second. The magic it took to enchant a pen so that it could survive Star was…significant. Star relaxes somewhat and continues.

“Scarlet Lily pretends everything’s alright, but she’s…distant. She has friends across Prillia and she’s worried for them."

Friends? More like underlings. How many of her strange demons with souls are scattered across Prillia? Surely you’ve reduced their number by bringing so many to Camelot. Troublemakers aside, their 'work' has guaranteed that the best and brightest will produce the next generation.

“And Cirrus! She has family on the coast! Not to mention all the apprentices from Camelot University!”

“Star. How close are you to finishing?”

“We’re close! So very close!” Star perks up. “It’s just…do you think it’s possible? Can we do it, and get the Thaumirrors to the right people in time? I know the Pony Express hasn’t been used in a long time, but if we use the same principle with some arcanomech vehicles, maybe if I could look over the designs and give some advice, and what if—”

“Click.”

“Right, right.” Star clicks the pen, her thumb a blur of motion.

“I believe you can do it, Star. You and your friends are more than capable.”

Sometimes, all she needs is some gentle encouragement.

“Okay,” Star takes a few deep breaths. “Then I believe in the you that believes in me.”

What?

You give up on trying to wrap your overtaxed mind on what she said. Your energy is best preserved. The door clicks shut behind Star, and you sag into your swivel chair, closing your eyes to concentrate more effectively. You may need to keep this up for another couple days, though you would suffer permanent damage if you go beyond a week.

Even with the aid you are given, you are reaching your limits. As much as you dislike it, you will have to divide parts of your consciousness among your magus minds to reduce brain damage. It will leave you weaker afterwards, and less capable of spellcasting in the meantime. A weakness you have been wholly unwilling to even entertain.

The needs must.

Thankfully, your faith in your students is not misplaced. The FSN is up and running the next morning.

You manage to gather the strength to break through your meditative trance to congratulate them. The positive reinforcement and the urgency of their task pushes them further, and in two days, they make five hundred Thaumirrors. Your magus minds rally those with the ability and the loyalty to spread the newest piece of communication technology, and your task is completed.

By the evening of the third day, the network has propagated enough that you allow yourself to sleep. Perchance even dream of the Headmistress, and the strange circumstances you've found yourself in.