By Regina Jade
Diana slipped the final crystal into position and counted to five, just in case everything exploded. She’d taken all of the proper precautions, but even the best magical crystals had temperamental days. And if her project shattered again, she’d have to restart from scratch.
Fortunately, this time, the line of glittering crystals only pulsed once before settling back to a soft blue glow.
Diana couldn’t relax just yet. Even now, mispronouncing the activation spell could still blow her sky-high.
She held her hands over the heap of junk on her workspace. It didn’t look valuable—broken eyeglasses, a frayed leather cord, the shattered remains of a light bulb—but that was the beauty of creation magic. With the right spell, a creation mage could turn something worthless into the most useful of treasures.
Diana closed her eyes, whispered the words of creation, and believed. A sudden light burst forth behind her eyelids, an indication that the spell was working.
When the light died down, she looked at her desk and whooped. The heap was now a sparkling set of night vision goggles, the lenses clean and unbroken, the head strap thick and supple, the crystals neatly arranged on the outside. They didn’t look exactly as she had envisioned on her drawing board, but they’d get the job done and, as a bonus, leave her hands free for once.
Diana slipped on her new goggles and headed for the door. If she waited any longer, the market would close. Even creation mages needed supplies to make food.
The world outside her little home was dark, of course. During the Last War, destruction mages had blotted out the sun with thick black clouds, leaving the world in an unending night filled with dangers. And no one had been able to reverse their magic—or even figure out a streetlamp that could survive the lingering spells—in over a century. Now, everyone just hurried around with lanterns or lights and hoped for the best.
Diana dodged a shadowed pothole with ease and grinned. Deciding to enchant her goggles to pick up all colors of the spectrum was paying off big time.
She leapt over a second pool of deep shadows and then a third. A sigh escaped her lips. The roads were sometimes a bit rough, but the repair mages usually kept a semblance of a path intact. She stepped over a fourth pit, and the hair on the back of her neck rose as the shadows moved with her, pooling like water.
Maybe those weren’t pits.
She murmured a word under her breath, and the crystals set into her goggles flared to life. The shadows expanded, gaining long curving limbs, shimmering teeth, and glowing eyes. For a second she thought it was some new transformation magic, but then icy fear dripped down her spine. The figures coalescing into humanoid shapes weren’t using magical crystals or speaking any words—key ingredients in any spell cast by human mages.
The top of the humanoid figure tilted, as if someone had cocked their head at her. “You can see me, human?” The voice was like the ringing of bells in Diana’s ears.
She stepped back, wary. “What are you?”
The figure twisted like a rope, looping in on itself and leaning forward. When it spoke again, the air filled with the scent of honeysuckle and lemon. Diana realized her mistake. She turned to run, but more shadowed figures were behind her, all staring at her with eyes like sparks.
“She can see us,” said one of the fae.
“Then wipe her memory,” said another. “We can’t let a spell like this become widespread.”
Diana thought of the old whispers: the fae loved the night and the darkness; sometimes they gave spells to humans if they begged prettily enough; the destruction magic that blotted out the sun was far stronger than any human spell had the right to be.
“Please don’t break my mind,” Diana whispered.
“That won’t be necessary,” the first fae said from behind her. “All that we need is for you to forget us.”
“Because you’re the reason we have no sun?”
The shimmering teeth arced into a circle. It might have even been a smile. “Perhaps. But we also like being fairytales no one believes in, dear Diana.”
Diana dodged the hand that reached for her. It was a fruitless endeavor, she knew, but… “How do you know my name?”
“We’ve already wiped you twice before. Third time should do the trick.”
The hand descended onto her face, covering her goggles.
Diana screamed.
Diana frowned at the heap of junk on her desk. The eyeglasses were in far worse condition than she had remembered. The creation spell for goggles was out, then.
She picked up the shattered remnants of the light bulb and examined it closely. The filaments were in pretty good condition, actually. She’d intended to use them to tweak her new goggles to pick up all colors of the light spectrum, but perhaps she could modify her creation spell.
She could try and make a mage-light. A miniature sun to light her way sounded much more useful than goggles bound to her face.
Diana reached for the nearest crystal and began to rearrange the pattern. With the right faith and spell, a creation mage could make anything. Even, perhaps, a new sun, bright enough to replace the one that they had lost.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Surprising twist near the end and fascinating world-building. I liked the message of hope at the end.
Yesss. Keep at it Diana! Great story 🙂
Very creative story! I love this creator theme and your story fits it well.
I love this! I am utterly fascinated by the world you’ve created and could read a whole book about Diana and her adventures. That said, you’ve captured the whole thing so perfectly in so few words, brilliantly done!
OOH, I like this one!!
Sorry I didn’t get to it on the “day-of”… but it’s brilliant!!
That was so scary! When they said they’d already mind wiped her twice before, I screamed!
I love this so much!! Such a clever and haunting story!! 😍
I do hope she makes it work and exposes the fae at the same time!