bottom and all that water on top… They couldn't move it at all.
Great. Well, good to know that would work if they wanted to go swimming.
The water moved in fast, it had probably filled the whole space inside half an hour, with the drunken giants running around desperately missing the sigil that would turn it off, once they realized they wanted to stop the flow and couldn't, they'd freaked. That part of room was already under water, meant to be used while sitting down in a tub. Tor sighed.
Stupid drunk giants.
“Alright. First lesson about magical devices? Anyone? No?” Tor didn't know why he bothered, but he was wet past his belly button and a little sleepy still. He looked at the people gathered in the doorway and finally Rolph, his short red brown hair, more red than brown now, raised his hand like in school. Everyone stared at him with wide eyes.
“Yes, Mr, Cordes?” Tor said dryly, tilting his head with a wry and slightly disgruntle, smile.
“A sigil is only an indicator so that people can focus their intent and it's not really needed?”
“Exactly. So, the water?” Tor gestured to him and after a moment Rolph closed his eyes, concentrating and slapped the wall. This caused the water to shut off instantly.
“Yay. Good job. Everybody here got that, right? Because there will be a test later. There always is. Now everyone on early kitchen duty, memorize the faces of these four, since you get to boss them around all morning, get that and go get some rest. Anyone not on that detail, jump in and help me move this plate please? This is going to be a pain without using magic.” Grumble, grumble, Tor thought, working his way to the drain, the water nearly to his upper arm even as he stood upright.
It took an hour and a half, but one of the Royal Guards slid it off to the side somehow, ducking all the way under the water and working the plate back and forth with nearly superhuman effort. It was just enough to start the flow, two hours after that they managed to slide the plate all the way off. Then the room cleared of water in about twenty minutes. Tor remembered who was in the water with him the whole time and sent them all off to bed. It was tempting for him too, but he had to get to work soon or breakfast would be lunch and then people would complain about the poor service and he'd have to sternum punch them all.
Karina had said so. That made it kind of a royal edict, right?
Only they mainly had shields so it wouldn't work.
He made himself clean up and shower before going in. If you touched food, you had to be tidy. It was a psychological thing as much as to prevent disease, at least with him. Tired and clean beat tired and dirty any day, if you got the choice, right? Tor went through the motions well enough, even thought a slightly ill feeling ran through him, starting at his head and working down to the pit of his stomach. Just tired, Tor thought. He'd never gotten sick in his life and really doubted anyone had been poisoning him here. They needed him to make the food.
Plus… he'd made all the food and was the only one handling it. No one could easily poison just him at least.
In the kitchen he found a still sleepy Trice, David, and Karina waiting. Bless them. Pushing into action as fast as they all could go. It felt like it took forever, but the late night prep paid off and they were ready to feed people by eight. Later than he liked, but no one complained about hunger pains yet. As he ate sitting next to Mutta, she rolled off phrases and terms in Afrak, some pretty complex. Tor paid attention as he could, but knew that he wasn't doing what he should be on the task. Sighing he turned to the woman.
“Oh, sorry Doctor Mutta, I'm sleepy and I think I missed that last one. Did you say that “fork” is literally “food stabber” in Afrak? Or am I just not getting the words right?” He waved the implement in question. He said it all as she'd been instructing, except fork, of course.
“That's right. “Food stabber” very good! I didn't think you'd have more than ten words of my language yet, but you sound almost fluent already.” Her voice was excited.
“Really? All I'm doing is trying to pay attention to what you're saying. Hey, do you think you could work with me on this during lunch too? I know it can't be that interesting for you. I must sound like a four year old, but it helps and I may need it. Ambassador and all that.”
Next to him, absently munching at a cinnamon roll Petra cocked her head at him.
“I didn't know you already spoke Afrak.” She said in Noram standard.
“I kind of thought you were just learning last night, to tell the truth.”
Ambassador Mutta laughed and told the new Captain that this was Tor's third lesson, saying it in Noram standard for her. Petra smiled and kept eating. Either she thought it was a joke or cute of him. He hoped for cute, because he kind of wanted to spend some time with her later. Or Bonita. She was on board, but had been spending all her non-meal time with Rolph. Sigh. Well, as long as she was happy and his friend was pleased, that should be enough for him, right? Still, if he saw her he was going to try and break her free for at least a chat. Tor missed her company.
At lunch Mutta, which he learned meant “gray” in Afrak, started to read to him from a book. It wasn't a story, but a complex science codex. He had to stop her every few seconds to ask questions, some about complete concepts that he'd never even heard of before. The text was about medicines based on animal products, things genetically altered to be of use to humans by a portion of the Afrak community. He got that “genetic” meant “life instructions”, but it was also clear the physical bits they were talking about weren't the whole story as to how things worked. Finally he stopped her and asked a question about it, which caused her to draw back a little, her robe, something made from magic itself, suddenly flaring pink. She didn't realize she'd made the change without thinking, but then magic was a new idea to her, wasn't it? Tor kept himself from shaking his head.
“Do some of your… people that do genetics, get better results than others, while some people can't seem to get any at all, even though they're doing the same things physically?” He looked at her hard, having asked in Afrak. It was still a little rough, and he definitely had a Noram accent, but she nodded, clearly able to understand his meaning.
“Yes… We don't know why it is, and select out for that during training, but it happens. Why do you ask?” Her voice was curious rather than annoyed at least.
It was only a guess, Tor told her as he collected his and her plates and bowls to take to the window where Dara, and her hung-over giant friends, were taking in dishes for cleaning. It was just that magic rested a level down from where the Afrak worked and part of the instructions for life were held there, if those didn't change, then the genetics probably wouldn't do what was wanted as often as it seemed to.
The best doctors were probably influencing things magically without knowing it. That was all. Most people did it all the time, the effects were just too small to easily notice. Magic itself wasn't unique really, it had its basis in how the mind worked. Everyone’s mind, and the mind wasn't separate from reality after all.
“Just a guess though. If I could see it done, later, when my own field repairs itself more, I could tell for certain. I think so at least.” It was a pretty small and fine part of reality to be working with, so maybe not. It would be fascinating to try though. Tor kind of wanted to drop into a meditative state and see if he could do it right then, but realized that then he'd have to slam his head into a wall for being stupid and using magic too soon without a very good reason. It would have to wait.
That changed how Mutta treated him for some reason. Drastically.
Instead of casually reading from her book she began to drill him nearly constantly on Afrak and biological science. It got so bad that he woke up one night having dreamed that she was doing it in his sleep, slipping into his room and murmuring next to his head. She hadn't, but he woke with a start anyway, covered in a light bit of sweat.
“What the heck was that?” He murmured out loud. Tor didn't know for certain, but it felt like his deep mind had decided to give him lessons in his sleep too. Grand.
As he drifted back to sleep it occurred to Tor that he'd been speaking in Afrak, thinking in it too.
For all that he had a private room, which was kind of nice in a way, he kept missing all the women in his life somehow. He baked and cooked with them, saw them all at meals even, but when he had a few minutes to spare they'd be gone. Finally after dinner on the fifth night out he saw Ursala just sitting at a table and reading.
“Finally! Someone. And you're not even speaking Afrak! Talk to me, please?” Tor asked a bit desperately. Mutta was a saint to work with him so much, but he needed a distraction for a while and this was about the only time he had for it. He'd heard other people talking about being bored, but he didn't see it. There was so much to do. Cooking, baking and cleaning, learning Afrak and stretching for a few minutes before bed so he wouldn't freeze up totally. He should go and practice with the people on the deck after lunch, but he had to make time for it… Maybe
