Chapter 84

Chapter 84: 84 Bran ached all over. The flaming wings on his back hadn’t burned him but they’d used massive amounts of energy from him and all he could do was lie on the bed Morgan had laid him down in. Some time had passed since the man had carried Bran from the stage to this small resting room backstage but Bran still didn’t feel like himself. Not only had that Arthur caused flaming wings to sprout from his back, but he’d also commanded Bran to fly, to actually fly around the auditorium. Bran could remember it but in a detached sort of way like he’d watched a first-person film of someone flying instead. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt so out of control, but it had been a long time since the last and this time it had not been among friends. The whole thing from being grabbed by Arthur to having magic worked directly on him without him giving the go ahead all filled him with anger. And fear. Then there was the whole deal of having that puppet string forced on him. He raised a hand and ran it over his neck. The string was gone now, yet the memory of it remained vivid in his mind. There was a blanket on the bed and he wrapped this tightly around himself and tried to pretend that Misha was there with his arms around him instead. But no matter how hard he tried to imagine it, the feeling of being together did not last and he was left feeling hollow and lonely instead. Surely it hadn’t been that long since they’d been together, so why could he not remember? Doubts and fears emerged in his mind in increasing intensity so Bran forced himself to sit up against the wall. The room was similar to the one he’d woken in earlier, the one where he’d had that bizarre dream about the little Mikhail and the Nameless Beast, though this room was void of boxes. Instead, it was outfitted much more like a normal office that happened to have a simple metal bed pushed against one wall like the place belonged to a workaholic. Unlike a workaholic’s office however, there was no computer on the desk, no files crammed with paper, not even a pen - the desk and chair were bare except for a small black rectangle. After staring at the smartphone for a while, Bran finally rose slowly and picked it up then returned to the bed to sit, wrapping the blanket around himself. The screen lit up as he looked at it, something that would be normal for any one else but was novel for him. He swiped at the screen to unlock it. Earlier, when Arthur had presented this magical device to him, he’d been dismissive but that was just a front. He was intrigued by the kinds of spells and arrays that had to be going on in order to allow someone like him to touch and use it. Rather clumsily, Bran explored the operating system and looked through each menu, trying to decipher what was new from the magical additions and what was just new to him since he hadn’t used a phone in ten years. It was, overall, an enjoyable experience that reawakened a way of thinking and doing that had slipped away over the years. It was frightening how easily he’d been sucked into a sense of easy malaise, one that somehow managed to override everything else from wanting to escape to figuring out what was going on here. Had that just been the allure of modern, attention-hook designed technology or was there something more going on? Bran put the phone down and clasped his hands together. He was beginning to reach a whole new level of panic. There came a knock and the door opened to let in Arthur Penn. "I must apologise for your current state. I had no idea that you would be affected by the spell so deeply," he said as he strode in, looking Bran up and down. Yeah right, Bran thought. "Why didn’t you get Morgan to be your showgirl?" he asked in a flat voice. "I’m sure he’d have done a better job than me." Arthur chuckled. He took the chair from the desk and turned it around to face Bran before sitting down. "Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong," he said. "You see, I wanted you to be the first to experience our technology." Bran massaged his temples. "Technology, technology, you keep using that word but what you’re doing is just normal spells," he said, not trying to keep the irritation from his voice. Was it dangerous to potentially antagonize the leader of this insane group? Yes, but Bran was fed up. "You are completely right. And that’s what we’re going to be giving to the general populace." There was a silence as Bran’s mind finally made the connection it had been trying to make since the presentation. He looked up at Arthur. "You’ve revealed magic to the world," he said, hardly believing his own words. Arthur smiled but said nothing. "It’s going to disappear, all of it, all the magic in the world, and when it does, they’re going to come for your head," warned Bran. "They won’t," replied Arthur. "You sound pretty confident about that." "As do you." Arthur sat back in his chair and crossed one long leg over the other. "Tell me, why are you so certain that revealing magic to the world will cause it to disappear." Bran almost replied ’it’s common sense’, but stopped himself in time. "Because it’s been studied what knowledge of magic does to the strength of it," he said instead. "And with the rate of decrease, once the whole world knows, the amount of strength it will have will be below zero, essentially making it disappear." "You’ve done your homework." And you haven’t, was nearly what Bran replied. Instead he said, "Alright. Why are you so confident that it won’t?" "Because I know the truth of those experiments," Arthur replied. "They were repeated," retorted Bran. "And the results were the same." "Oh I’m not doubting the researchers," said Arthur. "Merely the conclusion they drew from it. And how that conclusion was used to shackle the world." "Are you going to explain your claims or am I supposed to just go along with them?" "I heard from Malcolm that you’re quite the studious pupil, I’m glad he’s not wrong. But let me test you further. What can you tell me about those experiments?" Bran cast his mind back to those musty old books he’d dug up in Malcolm’s lab and the many hours he spent pouring over them. "There were a number around the world but the biggest one that became famous was the one done by the Pretan in the late 16th century." "Very good. Can you tell me how the experiment worked?" Bran felt a slight pang of regret that this Arthur Penn was doing whatever it was he was doing and wasn’t a professor in some magic academy. He’d probably do well for himself there. He had just the right composition of earnest curiosity and teacherly guidance to make whoever he was talking to not just want to answer but to think that they could too. "The test involved finding pairs of people, one mundane, one magical, and made sure that the mundane person didn’t know about magic. Next, the magical person performed a simple channeling spell, out of sight of the mundane person. This spell was measured in terms of energy level. Next, the researchers proved to the mundane person that magic was real and that their acquaintance was a practitioner. Then they got the magical person to perform the same channeling spell and tested it again." "And the result?" "They found that the strength of the channeling spell went down after the mundane person was told about magic." "Correct again." Bran was confused. "Then..." "Recall, Bran, the different forms magic can take. I’m sure Malcolm’s talked to you about this theory of Theogony before." He had, so Bran did, but he didn’t find any answers. He glanced at Arthur but found the man was, rather unexpectedly, waiting patiently just like the best of teachers. "Don’t worry. Take your time," he said. Bran swallowed and looked away. Time stretched out in that silence but it wasn’t a bad silence, Bran realised after a while, so he let himself wander off mentally and consider the problem. What could different forms of magic have to do with that old experiment? He’d explained to Misha ages ago that magic might be the same as qi and inspiration and other things. They’d also experienced first hand how raw nostalgia could be converted into currency, which was, in this context, the same as energy or magic. Was that relevant? Then he realised what it was. "Reverence. It wasn’t the practitioner’s raw magical power they ended up measuring, but their power plus everything else like the mundane person’s reverence for them. Once the mundane person realised that this person, who they likely looked up to and respected, was in fact..." Bran grappled with how to express himself. "Exactly," said Arthur. He clapped. "You’re not just a good student, you’re a smart one. You’re absolutely right. The researcher’s mistake, if you want to call it that, was finding pairs of people who already knew each other." Bran sat back on the bed and rested his head against the wall. His mind was spinning, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the revelation or the praise. "So... what exactly are you trying to do?" he asked in a quiet voice as he stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t feel quite so afraid anymore, though something else had taken its place, something that resembled uncertainty. Arthur smiled again. "Democratise magic," was his reply and Bran finally realised, looking into those eyes, why they looked so unnervingly familiar.