Seeing that she has my attention, Alto scowls, her voice stern.
"Aren't you the one that told me we change theories to fit facts, not the other way around? So, why are you disregarding the research I spent all that time on? What was the point in me even doing it if you'll only trust the answer that confirms your expectations?" (Alto)
I blink, stunned speechless for several moments by the hostile accusation.
"I'm not disregarding it, and I'm not saying the result is untrustworthy. The data is solid, and it proves I was clearly wrong about something that I assumed was true beforehand. I'm just trying to say that there are more things I could have been wrong about than what we started the research focusing on. We shouldn't jump to the conclusion that the specific fallacy was magical power being influenced by the environment, especially when there is other evidence supporting that hypothesis, and alternative explanations for these unexpected results." (Mizuki)
Though her attitude remains distinctly skeptical, some of Alto's fervor dissipates. Her posture relaxes slightly, and her voice loses its edge.
"Okay…so, this other evidence is your magic power? The 'genetics' and 'evolutionary science' you told me about from your world?" (Alto)
I sigh in relief, seeing that she's at least going to hear me out. I nod.
"Right, like I told you before. From everything all the scientists in my world have ever studied, species tend to change over generations to be better suited for their environment. Given how useful magic is, if it were genetic – something that's inherited from your parents – you'd expect a race's efficiency at absorbing and retaining atmospheric magic to increase slowly over time, until they reach magic power levels where their spell casting ability is no longer growing more advantageous for survival.
"But my world has no magic…none at all, and it's seemingly always been that way. That means there would have been no benefit from higher magic capacities, no reason for my people to evolve significant magical talent. Yet, I have so much…too much. Even in the hundreds of thousands of years of Azura's history, across the innumerable species and countless generations, I'm still a god in comparison to the second strongest mortal to ever exist here.
"Why? There's no evidence that my people are actually a distinct race with magical talent encoded into their being, like the Elder Dragons or the Nephilim, no reason for our world's god or any other to even create such a race on a planet without magic. There's only one thing I know that meaningfully distinguishes my people, my world, from Azura…the environment, specifically its lack of magic." (Mizuki)
The skepticism in Alto's eyes finally starts to wane, her expression turning conflicted.
"How do you know that one of those assumptions isn't wrong?" (Alto)
I pause, considering the question. I could emphasize the centuries worth of incredibly convincing research backing evolutionary science, point out how unlikely it is that my people would completely forget some profound origin story where we're an immensely powerful magic race, question the feasibility of a god having genetically modified Earth's people out the ass for magic power, all without Azazel or Dio thinking to mention it. But…I don't.
I shrug at her, sighing deeply.
"I don't. I'm just focusing my effort on which assumptions I'm least confident in. If magic power level – whatever determines the limit of bodily magic accumulation in the presence of atmospheric magic – is completely genetic, then…the implications are absurd. Either I'm a genetic fluke so profoundly rare that it's a miracle I happened at all in the history of all time, my people have been heavily experimented on by our god in secret for seemingly no benefit to anyone, or there's some deeply concerning divine conspiracy shrouding my people's origins.
"On the other hand, if early environment can have a massive effect on magic capacity, then there are reasonable explanations for why your research findings suggested otherwise. For one, we assumed that the magic power coursing through a pregnant mother is functionally equivalent to dense atmospheric magic, but we don't know that's true. As you've experienced with magic sense, your magic doesn't respond to magic under the influence of your own consciousness…there's clearly some capacity to distinguish atmospheric from bodily magic, which means they're different on some level. Who's to say those differences don't matter here?" (Mizuki)
For several moments, Alto's pale blue eyes just study me in uncomfortable silence, me watching her with bated breath in return. Eventually, she sighs softly, looking at me with an expression that I can't decide whether to characterize as frustrated, embarrassed, or remorseful. Regardless, she leans her head back against my chest amicably, and her voice returns to something friendlier.
"I suppose your reasoning makes sense, when put like that. I'm sorry for getting…upset. What do you propose we do next?" (Alto)
I breathe a sigh of relief, giving her a wry grin that is almost involuntary.
"No worries…glad we're on the same page again. As for what to do next, I think an honest-to-gods experiment is in order." (Mizuki)
As if the entire, awkward disagreement from the past ten minutes never happened, Alto's head snaps towards me, her eyes lighting up excitedly.
"What kind of experiment?" (Alto)
The corner of my mouth twitches, and I briefly wonder if my whole philosophical justification was even necessary to placate her outrage. Couldn't I have just led with suggesting a new experiment? Hindsight is twenty-twenty, I suppose…
I sigh internally, focusing on her question.
"One that's straightforward and less tedious than your last research project, but also longer-term. First, we need to collect a few dozen males and females each of some animal that is complex enough to have a decent magic signature but still reproduces quickly – mice, or better yet some of those small birds the elves use to send messages. Next, we set up two breeding pens – one that's normal, and one that I use a spell to prevent magic from entering – and randomly split the animals between them. Then, all we have to do is let them have babies, reintroduce the magic-deprived animals to a normal environment for a few days, then measure all the offspring's magic power levels. If the magic-deprived offspring have significantly higher power levels than their normal counterparts, I'd say we've tentatively proven my theory about the influence of atmospheric magic." (Mizuki)
She nods approvingly, then she gives me an expectant look.
"Okay. But what if the offspring aren't affected by your special breeding pen?" (Alto)
I purse my lips.
"Then…magic capacity being predominantly genetic is the most likely explanation. I can't think of another interpretation of the data that makes more sense." (Mizuki)
Her eyes widen, as though she's surprised by the response.
"What about the absurd implications you mentioned?" (Alto)
I shrug helplessly.
"When you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the answer." (Mizuki)
She raises her eyebrows at me.
"Meaning…?" (Alto)
I sigh, that familiar unease from earlier worsening, like a cement block on my chest.
"Meaning…my planet's and people's histories are far more storied than I assumed, and the gods are liars." (Mizuki)
She gives me an incredulous look.
"Which gods do you think would be lying to you? You've never met the god of Earth, and Azazel has no reason to lie to you, right? He probably didn't even know much about your planet or people before bringing you here." (Alto)
My expression turns conflicted, the logic in her words warring with my own instincts about how…off, the whole situation seems. More than anything, what I discovered earlier today about Azura's magic system is still fresh on my mind, its implications gnawing at me like a parasite, leaving too many doubts about things that used to not concern me.
I won't know for sure until I have some time to investigate those strange, ethereal runes carved into me, but I suspect that normal magic spells on Azura are far more artificial than I once assumed. Azazel may have even cast some divine spell over all of Azura that functions like a kind of 'system', not unlike in a videogame. One where verbal incantations trigger the system to assist the caster with complex spells, at the expense of their mana, so long as the caster has the proper spell 'credentials' in the form of the ethereal runes I saw.
At least, that's my leading theory.
I've also considered that the runes' functions might be self-contained, not connected to anything greater outside the caster's body, but then how are the runes getting imprinted on people? Surely Azazel's not doing it himself on a person-to-person basis…there must be some automated component. I also don't see how some of the incantation-based spells like water conjuring could use so little of the caster's magic without outside influence. Where's the extra power coming from? There are just too many open questions.
Still, regardless of the specifics, there's nothing inherently sinister about Azazel creating such a magic system…it makes quite a lot of sense for him to do so. Rather, I'm unnerved by what it suggests about how much I've been manipulated by him since I arrived here. No matter how much I rack my brain, I can't recall anything that Azazel said that would be considered a lie, per se, even if my suspicions prove true. However, he's damn sure been deceiving me…like a treacherous little shadow, wielding half-truths as a weapon of manipulation.
At first, his introduction implied that magic spells require incantations, which is clearly not true. Then, after I'd started to form my theory that incantations and spell books were just a façade, his scheme to control Azura's residents' technological and magical development, he nudged me towards concluding that the incantation system was nothing more than wordplay, a basic visualization tool. Now, I know that's also false. Yet, he even went so far as to reward me for my alleged insights, egging me on to share any further ones with the promise of additional rewards.
And that's another thing that's bothering me now…why would he do that? Before, I wrote it off as him being bored and eccentric, like I was a new pet he wanted to see play with the toy he made for me. But does that really make sense, given his actions so far? I mean his rewards have included honest-to-gods indefinite life for Alto, me teaching three other Azurans magic that undermines his whole alleged reason for the fake magic system, and mental immunity against another divine entity. Those aren't exactly trivial gifts, and they're all from the same god that made me fall to my near-death just for asking for that all-language blessing on day one.
Would he really do all these things, take all this risk, just for the amusement of me trying to solve mysteries he already has the answers to? Mysteries which, in some cases, he intentionally hid in the first place. I mean, the guy's a god…couldn't he just visit Earth and freely watch an entire planet's worth of scientists studying things much less familiar to him with much greater competency than me?
Honestly, if it wasn't for the fact that I assume he can read my mind, I'd think he was trying to use these 'rewards' as a pretense to ensure that he learns as soon as I sniff somewhere I'm not supposed to. If not that, I have no idea what his true motivations could be. I just know that they feel…off.
So, regarding Alto's question of whether I really think Azazel could be actively deceiving me about something profound…yeah, I sure as shit do. As for the god of Earth and the rest of them doing something equally as conspiratorial with the Earthlings, who knows? I don't see any reason to assume they're more earnest than Azazel, at least.
I let out an internal sigh, realizing how long I've been silently pondering all of this.
I'm really doom spiraling over Alto's hypothetical, aren't I? In all likelihood, none of this will even amount to anything. I seriously need to get a grip.
I glance at Alto, who's just watching me expectantly. Deciding that it's a little premature to air all of this, I just shrug casually.
"Who knows? We are entirely too unfamiliar with gods as a race, too far removed from their way of life…let's not jump to conclusions without something to back it up. But yeah, that includes not assuming the gods are to be trusted, especially those we've met." (Mizuki)
Alto raises her eyebrows at the response.
"You don't think that sounds a bit paranoid?" (Alto)
I roll my eyes, getting ready to make a quip about how she probably thought the same thing when I first told her Azura's magic system was a divine sham. However, Nina's voice interrupts first.
"No, Mizuki is correct to not take a god's actions at face value." (Nina)
I turn towards her in surprise, only to find her staring at me and Alto with a serious expression, her full attention evident. I give her a bewildered look.
"Honestly, I thought you'd gotten bored and fallen asleep." (Mizuki)
Nina gives me a small, amused smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, while Alto tilts her head at Nina.
"Why do you say that?" (Alto)
For a moment, Nina's expression becomes conflicted, and I feel an unexpected wave of bitterness through our Bond. Eventually, though, she just purses her lips, responding to Alto in a clipped tone.
"Because it is naive to think you understand the meaning behind the words or actions of an entity who can't possibly value anything that you do. A god could rob you of something immeasurably precious and truthfully call it a favor, because it was useless in their eyes." (Nina)
I narrow my eyes at the eerily loaded response. Something about her words…her bitter tone, it feels oddly specific, almost personal. I'm preparing to ask her, at least privately, if there's something I should know. But then…
RUSTLE!
All three of us turn towards the sound of rustling paper behind the couch, just in time to see a small parchment fluttering inside our MMC inbox. Alto looks up at me curiously.
"Expecting anything?" (Alto)
I nod, pulling the small note into my hand with gravity magic.
"Yeah, Ilina's supposed to send notice when she wants me to pick her up." (Mizuki)
I inspect the note's outside, seeing there's no indication of who it's from, then open it. Inside, there's only one word written:
thomellarays
My face twists in confusion. Noticing, Alto tries to crane her neck to see, her voice curious.
"What did she say?" (Alto)
I shake my head, mumbling to myself in absentminded confusion.
"What the hell is a thomellaray?" (Mizuki)
Hearing me, I feel Alto perk up suddenly. She interjects, distinctly surprised.
"You mean the weird insects?" (Alto)
I blink, turning towards her with a dumbfounded expression.
"Insect?" (Mizuki)
She nods, looking equally confused.
"Yes? Thomellarays are winged insects that look somewhat like butterflies, but their lifecycles are stranger – they're born, mature, mate, and die in the span of just a few days. They can also use a rudimentary form of wind magic, which is quite rare for animals, so the Academy keeps a lot of them around. Now that I think about it, your experiment-" (Alto)
No sooner than her last sentiment registers, I make a series of realizations, like dominoes falling, until the final one makes my blood run cold. I immediately activate my magic sense, scanning as thoroughly as I possibly can…and I get a hit. One that causes my stomach to wrench in fear.
I see Nina's eyes begin to widen, almost in slow motion, clearly sensing the changes in me. But I don't bother waiting, don't explain anything. I just grab Nina by the wrist and teleport the three of us…all the way to the minor continent.
The very second that we appear amidst the dry, cracked land, washed red by the evening sun, I unceremoniously push Nina and Alto away, practically screaming at them telepathically.
[FLY AND DON'T STOP!] (Mizuki)
Then, before they've probably even registered my words, I vanish from the continent.
...
{END OF VOLUME 7, PART 1}
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Author Note:
Hey all! I know, right? What a sadistic way to end it…gods, I love my job.
In all seriousness, I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notices that, unlike prior volumes, V7 is being divided into two parts. This is primarily because I've just ended up writing far more per plot point than planned (read, "Alto"), and I feel like V7 has really gotten too unwieldy in size to treat as one, traditional volume. At the same time, I didn't feel like there was a good place to prematurely end the volume…the story arc just wouldn't feel complete, you know? Hence, two parts.
Naturally, there will be no break in releases between these parts, so I didn't feel too bad about making the Part 1 ending a cliffhanger. This is more of a way for me to punctuate the novel's progress.
Thanks again to everyone that has read to this point!
– BC