On its way to Fortier, Liliana’s coach would stop at several stage-station towns. Her first night was to be spent in one that doubled as a checkpoint, its inns and eateries clustered around a church. Broad moats and towering walls hinted at its past as a fortified city, while the streets swelled with travelers staying the night.
Liliana and her entourage had arranged to sleep in a first-class inn just beyond the checkpoint. Privacy there was paramount: Patrons rented not only a room but an entire floor, complete with quarters for maids, chamberlains, and escorts. Each level had its own entrance and staircase, ensuring that guests would never cross paths by accident.
After her evening meal in a private dining hall, Liliana retired to her bath.
“Will you be reading again tonight, my lady?” Marianne asked.
Liliana nodded; she had made a pleasant habit of reading before bed. Her handmaiden understood at once and, leaving the light on, withdrew to the adjoining room. Her own quarters lay next door, close enough to answer should her lady need her urgently.
Once alone, Liliana cast a sleep-enhancing spell on Marianne, then secured her own chamber with a soundproof barrier. She waited for the right moment—then teleported.
“You actually came,” said a merry voice.
Liliana took in her surroundings, then cast an unperturbed glance at the only other person in the room—Petra, who was settling into one of the spare chambers for maids.
“Well, well... I never expected to see someone your age use teleportation magic. And without a sigil, no less. I thought only I could do that.”
With a hearty chuckle, Petra opened one of several bottles of alcohol she’d bought in town and took a bite of a thick piece of meat.
Normally, teleportation required two sigils—one borne by the caster and another inscribed at the intended destination, serving as a landmark to ensure a safe arrival. But that didn’t mean anyone could teleport. The caster needed a wealth of mana, a high aptitude for the spell, and, above all, a way to guarantee the safety of their destination. As a result, very few people could actually use teleportation in practice.
Liliana’s mouth curled into a genuine smile. She had taught herself teleportation magic, and it felt good to have someone acknowledge her progress.
“Good evening. Thank you for accepting my request on such short notice.”
Petra’s eyes went wide as saucers. She had gone from mildly enjoying the situation to staring at the girl across from her in utter disbelief.
Ignoring the mage’s astonishment, Liliana continued, “I think it goes without saying what I’m doing right now.”
“Eh...”
Petra could hear Liliana’s voice, yet the girl’s lips hadn’t moved at all. They were frozen in a serene smile.
“Tele...pathy...?” Petra uttered, her voice hoarse as the cogs in her mind whirred back into motion.
Liliana nodded, her grin growing notably more charming.
Telepathy was a spell that directly affected the target’s mind to relay speech. Most assumed that it was impossible for humans—that only demons and spirits could wield it—yet here was Liliana, performing it with ease. Few things could render Petra speechless, and this was one of them.
At last, Petra laughed, shook her head, and gestured for Liliana to sit on the couch across from her. The girl had more than met her expectations.
“Are you even human?” the mage asked, dauntless, once Liliana had taken her seat.
“I most certainly am. But it would put me in danger if word got out that I could use telepathy. You’re the only one who knows.”
For safety’s sake, Liliana should have kept her telepathy a secret even from Petra. But that was a mere scruple compared to the reason she had teleported.
The mage heaved a sigh, finally recovering from her surprise. “It’s an honor, I’ve gotta say. I wondered about you when you handed me that note.” She took a swig of alcohol, then leaned forward with curiosity. “Tell me—what kind of spell are you using for your telepathy?”
“It’s nothing special. Spells are, at their core, just systems that allow anyone to use magic that connects phenomena with imagination.”
Liliana had reached this conclusion through her study of magic. One could say she had only recognized the importance of imagination thanks to her memories from her past life.
Magic required an appropriate amount of mana—but without something to embody the spell, like an incantation or magical device, it wasn’t possible to efficiently convert mana into magic and produce the desired effect. The magic would dissipate without ever manifesting. Conversely, entities with enormous mana—such as demons and spirits now relegated to history books—could easily wield magic without spells.
Petra fell silent for a moment, then burst into laughter. “Try saying that to those shmucks at the Ministry of Magic! I guarantee they’d lose it!”
“My sincerest apologies.”
Liliana’s words were anything but sincere. Two of the Ministry of Magic’s key functions were developing and systematizing spells. Claiming that spells were useless was essentially the same as saying the ministry had no purpose.
Petra laughed even harder, almost cackling. “Don’t worry—I’m a heretic in their eyes anyway. I agree with you. If we get too hung up on systematizing magic through spells, as is happening now, it’ll never progress.”
Liliana sighed inwardly in relief. She had come to ask Petra questions, and angering the mage would have hurt her chances of getting useful answers.
Across from the couch, Petra seemed beside herself with interest. “Damn. I still can’t believe you’re using telepathy. The spell is incomplete, and none that are theoretically correct actually work. Not to mention—it’s banned. A girl your age shouldn’t be able to use it so freely. So, how’d you manage it?” Beneath an air of displeasure, she was brimming with childlike curiosity.
“Picture dropping a stone into a large pond and watching the ripples spread. Hearing works much the same way: Air is the water, and sound is the ripples. Now, imagine we were at opposite ends. For my voice to reach you, those ripples would need to travel all the way across the pond. This spell skips them entirely.”
Of course, the transmission of sound was a bit more complex, involving the eardrum, middle ear bones, and auditory nerves—but medicine in this world wasn’t advanced enough for that to make sense. To complicate matters further, Liliana’s spell was essentially the theory of brain wave synchronization through quantum entanglement put into practice. An oversimplified explanation was therefore necessary.
Petra frowned, clearly not following at all. “Did you make a pact with a spirit or a demon?” she asked, scratching her head.
The mage spoke in jest, of course, but it was the only way she could make sense of the situation. Spirits and demons were generally believed to exist only in legends and stories, and even those who thought they were real agreed they had long severed contact with humans. Moreover, while spirits were said to aid humans, demons were invariably depicted as hostile. Even on the rare occasions they offered help, the powers they granted were limited and came at a heavy cost.
Petra mused for a while, her eyebrows nearly meeting above her nose, before finally conceding with a sigh and an awkward smile. “Well, you don’t seem to be lying. I guess you just tried it, and it worked, eh?”
“Pretty much.”