The Wrong Kind of Immortality

Orestis found Eirene in the middle of a discussion about the discoveries made during the investigation into the soldiers’ affliction. The conversation had already shifted towards the new avenues of research those discoveries had opened.

When she saw him, Eirene excused herself and walked over.

“Did you take care of the tasks you needed to?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “And a few more besides.”

Orestis had debated whether to give her the spell as a document or not. A written version would let her learn it the traditional way—which had its own merits. But in the end, he decided speed was more important for this particular spell.

The speed with which she learned it, to be precise.

He drew the sigils at a moderate speed so that she would have enough time to study them, then cast the soul link spell and sent the invitation to connect.

“Normally, I would let you learn new spells on your own,” he explained as she accepted the connection. “Learning spells this way carries the creator’s preconceived notions with it. You lose the opportunity to develop your own understanding or stumble across entirely new ideas.”

Eirene nodded, then asked, “Which spell is this?”

“A new one,” he replied, before sending the information through.

Orestis watched with satisfied amusement as her expression went through a series of changes: a slight frown, followed by surprise, and finally excited delight.

“Orestis, this is amazing!” she exclaimed, then grabbed his hand and immediately teleported the two of them away.

He let the spell pull him along without resistance. A moment later, they materialised in the living room of their house in Orthessa. Obviously.

Eirene was so excited that she did not even take the time to orient herself before casting the spell. She sent out a call to Nuri through it, letting the cat know she was home.

The spell could be used to establish a private connection as well, but Eirene had chosen the broadcast option this time. The distinction was much like calling out to someone across a room rather than whispering directly into their ear.

Of course, by definition, communication was never one-sided. A spell that only allowed the caster to send information was little more than telepathic broadcasting. So, he had also designed it to link to Nuri’s soul signature—he had interacted with her enough to identify it—allowing her to project concepts back through the same connection.

Getting the connection to work both ways had been a bit of a challenge, especially since he had not asked Nuri for help while developing it. He wanted it to be a surprise for both her and Eirene, after all.

Barely a second after her call, an extremely excited furball popped out from a shadow, leaping onto Eirene’s shoulder.

‘You learned to talk!’ Nuri projected, her joy almost palpable.

Of course, Nuri was not using words to speak. No spell could teach a mauthet—or any other creature, for that matter—to use human language.

Unless those creatures are already capable of language—but that is a separate issue entirely.

The point was that mauthets, despite their intelligence, did not possess language. So, Orestis had designed the spell to bypass the need for language altogether. Regular telepathy transmitted thoughts; his spell transmitted meaning.

Which, in this case, meant that Eirene projected the idea that she was home and wanted to see Nuri. Nuri, in turn, responded with the idea that she was happy she could now understand Eirene. Each mind simply interpreted those concepts according to its own way of thinking.

Meanwhile, Eirene was laughing as she hugged the little furball.

“Yes, I did,” she said while keeping the spell active, which naturally passed the concepts along to Nuri.

The little furball’s ears shot up, pupils dilating. Then, with a meow, she sent: ‘You can hear me!’

Right after, she melted into her own shadow, slipping free of Eirene’s grip before hopping around excitedly. Shadow hopping, that is—which involved Nuri jumping from one shadow to another as she bounced all over Eirene.

‘Now we can play more! Make floating shadows!’

Eirene obliged the furball by creating shadow balls of varying sizes all around the room.

“Just to be clear,” Orestis said, addressing Nuri, “she can only understand you while the spell is active. If you want to talk to her, you will have to get her attention and wait for her to cast it.”

He was also using the spell while speaking, to see if it would properly convey his words as concepts that the little furball could understand. Purely based on the design, converting speech to concepts in real time should also be possible.

‘Should’ being the operative word.

Not like I’ve had the opportunity to test anything before.

Nuri paused on top of one of the floating spheres of darkness, turned his way, then blinked. ‘You taught her to speak?’

“Of course,” he replied, feeling quite proud of himself. It would seem there were no problems at all. Yet another flawless piece of magical engineering, completed without any complications.

Not that there was ever any doubt.

Nuri glanced over at Eirene, then said, ‘So she is better.’

Wait, what now?

“How did you come to that conclusion?” he asked, even as Eirene gave him an amused glance.

Nuri used her shadow manipulation to move her temporary platform in front of him and said, ‘You could always talk, but you could not hear. Now you can hear me, but it took many days. You taught her, and she learned both at once. She is better.’

“That is not how that works,” he pointed out indignantly. “It is my spell doing all the work.”

Nuri extended a paw and gently patted him on the face. ‘Don’t be sad. You will always be my favourite bed.’

Eirene immediately burst into laughter, while Nuri went right back to playing.

Orestis gave them both a flat look.

Ranked first in furniture quality. Clearly, I have found my true calling in life.

Well, at least his spell theories had proven to be sound. There was still one more he wanted to test, though.

“By the way, that spell is only half-complete,” he said after watching them play around for a while.

Eirene glanced at him. “That’s not like you. Which part is incomplete?”

“Like I said, either you or I need to cast the spell for us to understand her. Nuri is unable to initiate the link on her own,” he clarified.

“Obviously,” Eirene said. “She cannot use magic.”

Nuri, still able to understand them, took offence at that statement. She popped up on Eirene’s shoulder and declared, ‘I can use magic.’

At the same time, all of the floating spheres—as well as the various shadows around the room—sprouted multiple jagged, razor-sharp protrusions. Most of them, Orestis noted with amusement, were shaped like claws.

He had noticed Nuri’s preference for claws during their various sparring sessions. At some point, the little furball had decided that the answer to most of life’s problems was claw-shaped.

Eirene, already used to Nuri’s antics, scratched the cat’s head and said, “That is your inherent ability. I meant that you cannot use human magic.”

Nuri purred and let the claws dissipate, apparently too pleased by the scratches to bother with a response.

“That’s the thing,” he said, “maybe she can.” His words had both the woman and the cat turning towards him.

“Most human magic involves drawing sigils with mana and activating them,” he said, explaining for Nuri’s benefit. He then drew the sigils for the communication spell in the air. “While you may not be able to use mana in the conventional sense, your shadows are saturated with mana. And you can manipulate them however you wish.”

“You’re thinking of using shadows to draw the sigils,” Eirene said, piecing together his idea. “Do you believe that would work?”

Orestis shrugged. “I have no idea. But it would be an interesting experiment. If that does not work, I can always think of something else.”

Like making an artefact. That would definitely work. But that would also be boring.

… And I am creating more work for myself, aren’t I?

He frowned and thought about it. Honestly, just making an artefact that would enable Nuri to activate the spell would be more than enough. It would certainly be simple enough.

And it is not like I do not have enough on my plate already. Yeah, let’s scrap the idea. I will just make a cat collar or something.

While he was thinking, Eirene had constructed a sigil for a First Circle spell for Nuri to examine. First Circle, because they were the simplest spells, with the fewest runes and lines. Which was why Nuri was able to easily construct a copy using shadows, basically tracing Eirene’s lines in the air.

The next moment, the sigil flashed and vanished, leaving behind a small, glowing wisp in its place.

All three of them froze. Then they glanced at each other. Then they all grinned.

Artefact? What artefact? Forget that. We are using spells!

Nuri, unsurprisingly, was the most enthusiastic about the discovery. She meowed and bounced around excitedly, creating more wisps as she moved. ‘I am happy!’

Eirene huffed out a laugh, shaking her head in amazement. “This is… unprecedented.”

Orestis was about to respond when an exuberant goddess suddenly materialised in the room and scooped up the excited furball. “Nuriiiii! You’re so amazing! And so adorable!”

… Of course.

He swallowed his words and watched Eleuthera dance around the room with Nuri in her arms. The cheerful cat happily created balls of light while demanding pets, which Eleuthera was more than happy to provide between twirls and giggles.

Really. Such an undignified goddess.

Then again, part of her charm, I suppose.

“Orestis? Up to which tier of magic do you think Nuri would be able to cast?” Eirene asked, watching the scene with quiet amusement.

“That is what we will be aiming to find out,” he replied, pleased to be thinking about the more interesting topic. “Though, if we equate the state of her shadows to mana quality, I am fairly certain she can manage up to the Third Circle. Beyond that…”

Beyond that is where the fun begins, Orestis thought with a grin.

‘I must admit, I am also quite intrigued,’ Lyse sent through the link.

“Yes. The thrill of discovering something new. The best part of any research,” he said with a nod.

Now, he just had to figure out where he would fit it into his schedule.

Author Note:

Okay, new convention. From now on, telepathy or soul communication will be written in italics with single quotation marks, ‘like this,’ while only Orestis’s interiority will be written in italics without quotation marks, like this.

Less confusing that way. Easier to differentiate and look at, too.