Excerpt from Yenna Bookbinder’s ‘The Travelling Mage’s Almanac.’

“I have never seen a prayer in motion before, and doubt that any other mage has been so privileged as to see one perfectly crystallised like this. By what mechanism does it form into such a shape? How does the priestess direct the flow of magic to go the way she wants? Could sections of the prayer be substituted for one another? It is a true oddity that, for all the collected writings of masters of Arcane magic, I have not heard of more than a handful of studies on the mechanisms of prayers—of those, most findings were inconclusive and contradictory. I shall record the shape of the prayer here, along with relevant notes, so that it may be studied further.”

The prayer was fascinating—a unique and unparalleled perspective on a foreign magic. The researcher in Yenna wanted to remain, to forget about the enormous beast-man directly beside her as she studied this star-filled wish. With some effort, Yenna pulled herself away.

“If all goes well, I’ll just be able to ask her about it…”

Yenna wasn’t sure why she was muttering aloud. It was a habit she had when perfectly alone with no one to overhear—which, to be fair, was exactly what the situation felt like. There was a cold loneliness to this room, despite the chaotic scene and the people around. The mage felt it creeping into her, her thoughts being affected by the strangeness of her situation. She shook her head as she tried to focus on the matter at hand.

“Priorities. Right.”

Getting everyone out of harm’s way was, of course, the first priority in this situation. After that, she could attempt to escape this place, or possibly use this borrowed time to discover how this had all come to be in the first place. Saving lives came well before satisfying academic curiosity, after all.

The priestess Suee was in the most direct line of danger. The other kesh with her had already been hit, so saving her would require a medical professional—Yenna had an idea of how to deal with that, but it would have to wait. Moving Suee out of the way was the simplest solution, though pulling her physically would be awkward due to her positioning. The priestess was right against the table, seated, and had a sharp claw looming overhead—Yenna didn’t even consider the idea of testing her own physique against the challenge. She would have to use magic. 

Moving around behind Suee to a thankfully open section of floor, Yenna cast a telekinetic grip spell. Nearly as precise as one’s own hands, and far stronger to boot, the spell turned a thin layer of air solid as a stand-in for one’s grip. There were many interesting implications regarding how the spell worked, but the most important was that with a little bit of concentration, Yenna could envelop Suee in solid air and pull her with a force equivalent to that of a giant. 

To Yenna’s great surprise, the spell barely moved the priestess at all. With her magical sight spell active, Yenna could see why—the very magic she was attempting to manipulate was trying to stay as still as the world around, rendering the spell pathetically weak. The space where Suee had been was also pulling the priestess back in, though on a more physical level—moving her out of the way left a vacuum of air that drew her back in. It was the very motion of the spell that allowed the air to realise it had a gap to fill, and several tortured laws of physics collided to prevent Yenna from solving this problem with magic.

“Argh!” Yenna shouted, almost surprising herself with how loud her voice was. “If I can’t fix this with magic, what am I meant to do…?”

Yenna grabbed the sides of her hat and pulled it down, blocking out the world. It was a childish motion—as though not being able to see what was happening would somehow make the problem go away. Yenna’s frustration was building—mixing with her anxiety, her fear, all of her emotions swirling around no matter how hard she tried to push them down. Her legs quivered with the thought that she might somehow fail at whatever inscrutable task she had been given, that everyone would die because Yenna Bookbinder wasn’t some almighty master of magic. She wished she could have someone here to help her.

With a sniffle, Yenna wiped away a tear. It felt warm on her cold skin, and reminded her of the moment. She was still shivering a little, but she consoled herself with the thought that she hadn’t burst into flame or exploded with lightning or any of the other numerous hidden downsides of learning witchcraft—no wonder Lumale had been so happy to teach her. If she had failed as a student, she would simply have perished. If she succeeded, well, she was a witch, and there was no issue with teaching witchcraft to a witch.

Yenna paused. Perhaps witchcraft was the answer—or, more to the point, the fundamental thought process that set witchcraft apart. What were the limits here? Why couldn’t she have someone here to help her? If she was right, and the coin was allowing her to move in this realm of stillness, then why not someone else? Yenna looked over at Narasanha. The woman was powerful in a way that Yenna wasn’t, and if magic couldn’t solve her current predicament, then perhaps muscle could.

Sometimes it was necessary to take a step backwards in order to take two steps forward. When solving a puzzle, Yenna preferred to start at the end and work backwards—she had identified what she wanted to happen, and how it could happen, so the problem now was making it a possibility. Yenna moved herself to Narasanha’s side, wary of the weapons the woman was brandishing. The bodyguard’s momentum was set to carry her directly into and through the beast, her full weight making her a deadly projectile. Still, she would be too late to save Suee and possibly even Eone, unless Yenna could unfreeze her.

Yenna started with the simplest option—placing her coin-tattooed palm on Narasanha directly. Yenna had already touched a few things with the mark on her hand to no effect, but not any people. The mage tentatively placed her palm on Narasanha’s back to no effect.

“Perhaps it has to touch skin…? E-Excuse me, Narasanha.”

Yenna reached up to one of Narasanha’s bare arms. She put skin to skin, feeling the solid, tense muscle. Narasanha felt deathly cold, a sensation that would have been alarming anywhere else. Still, Yenna couldn’t see any change from the skin contact alone, though the area of active magic around her seemed to be having some effect. She observed that when she moved her hand away, the magic in the air took a few moments to slow down where it made contact with Narasanha. It appeared that the protection was trying to do something to Narasanha, perhaps to free her from stillness, but something was still missing.

Instinctively, Yenna brought the coin-mark up to the lens of magical sight. It held a signature of magic not unlike Suee’s prayer, with a ring of cold light to indicate a particular view of the night sky. However, it didn’t hold a vision of stars and constellations—instead, it was a pure white surface marred by cracks and craters. It was a vision of the moon itself, with a sliver of darkness along one side. The mark emanated an energy that kept the flow of magic moving in the still realm. By connecting itself with the natural aura that all living things held, it made a shield of sorts to keep things moving.

Knowing how the spell worked to restore motion wasn’t strictly necessary. The fact that it had connected to Yenna in this way was enough for her to extend it using the very effect that had stopped her from saving Suee with her magic to save her. Yenna looked over the rest of the people in the room—if this plan worked on Narasanha, it could possibly work on everyone else here. She would hardly need to yank Suee out of the way if she could just have her move within this still realm. Yenna felt a little silly for not thinking of it sooner, though she didn’t want Suee’s spell interfering with her initial test.

Yenna focused, getting back to the work. She was going to cast something that she could barely call a spell—a sloppy piece of magic that she would have chided even Tirk over had he done it without reason. Yenna drew a magic circle with several intentional imperfections and began to fill it, letting excess radiate all over. To her magical sight, it was as though the place was coming to life—a begrudging, lethargic flow of magic pushing its way through the air, but a flow all the same.

Once it had expanded enough, Yenna tapped into the cloud of active magic. It held a glimmer of her will, enough to keep it going even as stillness threatened to stifle it. However, that glimmer was all that was needed for Yenna to control the spell. She formed it into a cage of mirrors, forcing the magic into a coherent bubble around Narasanha, allowing it to bounce and float around. Slowly and meticulously, she guided the magic emanating from her coin mark to accept the new bubble, and the woman held within, as a part of her own ‘self’.

Suddenly, the world was thrown into motion—or Narasanha was, anyway. Whatever momentum she had was not entirely preserved, the effects of her body ‘thawing’ from the stillness bleeding out a significant chunk of inertia. The guard fell onto the ground in a heap with a hefty thud, though she recovered gracefully. Without a moment’s hesitation, Narasanha swung an axe into the beast’s head, only for it to bounce off with enough force to dent the weapon’s edge.

“What?!” Narasanha bounced back, readying herself for another leap before pausing, confused. She looked around, took in the stillness of the area, and settled her glare on Yenna. The mage shuddered under the bodyguard’s attention, her stare filled with barely contained predatorial intent. “Mage, is this your doing?”

“N-N-No! No? I…don’t think it is!” The arrival of someone to talk to threw Yenna’s confidence for a loop. She cleared her throat and tried again—shaking her head, she answered, “No. No it’s not.”

“Then, what…? This is magic, surely. The doing of this…beast?” Narasanha looked over the beast-man, as though attempting to find some miniscule weakness or predicting a sudden attack.

“I believe the priestess did this—the coin she gave me lets me move, and I think she sent us here so I could, erm, stop everyone from dying.” Yenna felt very uncomfortable about the implication that she herself was meant to be the saviour, but it seemed the most likely story. 

“If it’s the coin that makes you move, then how am I moving? More magic?” Narasanha looked herself over, as though trying to see the enchantment upon her.

“I extended my natural life-aura into a flow-prison, and extended the– erm, yes. More magic. W-Wait, I need to try it on the others!”

Nearly tripping over a chair in her haste, Yenna rushed to Suee’s side. It was taking a tiny amount of her concentration to maintain the bubble of motion around Narasanha, with a negligible upkeep involved—she could repeat this process with several more people, should the original enchantment hold. Repeating her process, Yenna formed the field around Suee. When she did so, the field shuddered and collapsed straight away, as though brushed aside by someone else’s intent.

“Why is it…? Oh. Oh.”

“Something the matter, mage?”

“The priestess is…” Yenna thought for a moment, of how best to explain to a non-mage. “She’s concentrating on a spell of sorts. I think the spell might be what is keeping us here, because I can’t take hold of her like I could you. The air around her, her possessions, all those things can be affected by my spell, but she is personally resisting me.”

“Hm. Then, leave the priestess—try someone else. Free the captain—she’ll know what to do.” 

Yenna nodded and went to work on breaking free Eone from her stasis. Narasanha had long since put away her weapons apart from a sharp, narrow dagger—with her upper arms crossed and another hand on her hip, she idly flicked the blade between her fingers as she waited. After a short period of watching Yenna trying her best, the bodyguard’s patience reached an end. 

“What’s the hold-up? Don’t tell me you can’t do it.”

“I, erm…” Yenna could feel that anxiety building again. “It’s…”

Narasanha glared at Yenna, her piercing gaze like needles. Yenna wanted to hide in her hat. 

“Just say it, mage.”

“I-It’s…There’s no connection. I did the exact same method with you, and the protection of the coin spread throughout the cage. Here, it’s not taking hold at all. …Wait.” Yenna frowned, looking up at Narasanha. “I need to try this on Hirihiri.”

“Hirihiri’s an old woman, not fit to help—lest you need a cook, or endless prattling. Try it on Muut, or the captain’s mother.”

Yenna shook her head—there was a confidence forming within her now. “I think I’ve figured out why it’s not working on them—but I need to try it on Hirihiri to be sure.”

The mage trotted over to the old yolm. She was easy to overlook in the scene—not rising dynamically or ducking a blow, Hirihiri was looking over her shoulder in simple surprise. Yenna carefully extended a cloud of magic over her, trapped it into a cage of mirrors and…

“It worked!”

“Yenna?!”

Just in the nick of time, Narasanha ducked forward to catch Hirihiri as the cook nearly fell out of her chair. Stabilised, the old woman hopped to her feet with surprising speed, pulling a knife from a fold of her clothes—were all yolm so ready for a fight¹? After a short survey of the room, Hirihiri tucked the knife away and looked over at Yenna. Hirihiri opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Narasanha.

“Why did it work now, and not before?”

Yenna smiled brightly. “It was the coin! Each of you touched it, and it either recognised you or partially attuned to you—when I cast the spell to release you, it followed along because it knew who you were.”

Hirihiri’s expression hardened. “We weren’t the only ones. Where’s Tirk?”

Yenna looked at the door. The boy had left shortly before the mayhem had started, and a thought crossed her mind—just how far did this stillness extend? Was Tirk outside this frozen time, alone and afraid, or had he been frozen too? Besides that, Yenna now had two allies with her—she was no longer being made to face these trials alone. Could they help turn the tide?

On Yenna’s hand, the full-moon tattoo shifted and showed a sliver of frigid darkness.

¹ - At the time, it was a yolm tradition to remain armed at all times. Nobility made a point of carrying expensive, decorated weapons, often with enchantments built in to make them useful beyond fighting. It was considered the lowliest of wretches who cannot afford a weapon of some description and it was only the vilest of criminals who wields one unless it is truly needed. The practice died out after a time—a string of high-profile, bloody duels and a rash of serious injuries from street-fights led Miluran lawkeepers to outlaw the carrying of anything more than blunted, ceremonial weapons. The ruling worked surprisingly well at reducing fatalities, and many yolm communities even beyond Milur eagerly adopted it.