บท 5: Glyph Fiend
"I don't want to ruin all of your chalk, Wink," Nathan said. He stood in front of Wink's bed, staring at the pile of chalk sitting atop it.
"Please, please, please." Wink was hopping up and down. "This is really important. It's just first-order chalk, anyways — Gray and I have enough talons to buy more, I promise. Just absorb one, at least."
Nathan considered it for a moment, then picked up one of the pieces of chalk. It gave him the same jolt that the last one did — a sort of pinprick tingling that spread throughout his entire body. It felt as though a tiny repair crew had gone to work inside of him, hammering his aching muscles into shape and refueling him with energy. It was an addictive sensation to say the least.
"Amazing. It really seems like you have an icon."
Nathan played with the crumbling chalk in his hand. "What's an icon again?"
"Oh, right. I keep forgetting that you don't know anything." Wink grabbed one of the papers on his nightstand and held it up to Nathan. "They all look different, but this is the icon that High Guardian Vogel has."
"A turtle?"
Wink nodded. "Icons are made in the Forge at the center of the Ring. We don't really know how it works, but when we throw enough monster cores into it, it spits one out. No telling what type it'll be. Some people think it fits the personality of the forger, but I think that's a load of clamslark."
"So this Vogel guy welded a turtle to his spirit? Why would anyone do that?"
"Not a turtle — a turtle icon. Icons are like miniature refineries. When a person has one welded to his spirit, he's able to absorb pure magic into it and shape it into spells. If he were to touch glyph chalk, he'd absorb the magic in it just like you did. But since you don't have an icon — "
"I shouldn't be able to absorb anything," Nathan finished for him. "Well, what's the alternative? If I don't have an icon to put magic in, where's it going?"
"No clue. Maybe you just have pure magic floating around in your spirit." He got the lightbulb-over-the-head look again, like he'd been physically stricken by an idea. "Try to make water appear like the glyph in the kitchen did."
"Make water appear?" Nathan cocked an eyebrow at him. "What, just shoot it out of my hand or something?"
"Just do whatever you think feels right."
Nathan stretched a hand out, palm facing the wall, and closed his eyes. A person's eyes had to be closed when they did magic for the first time — it was a universally acknowledged rule, and he intended on following it.
He opened his eyes after a minute of intense focusing. "Nope, nothing. Got any other ideas?"
Wink rubbed his round chin as though it were a beard. "Maybe — maybe try to do it on a surface. Glyphs are the only active pure magic I've seen, and they need a surface. Here, try the board."
Nathan placed a hand against the smooth board and closed his eyes again. He focused, breathed, thought of water and glyphs. A feeling arose in him, foreign but familiar, like a phantom limb screwing itself back into socket and twitching around. Then a surge rushed through him, a smidgeon of the energy he'd stolen from the chalk running down his arm and shooting out of his hand like a tiny lightning bolt.
He opened his eyes and saw his glowing fingers return to their dull tan. When he removed his hand from the board, a glyph presented itself — a clone of the one he'd seen in the kitchen, small and glowing.
Wink was staring at it as though it were God Himself. Eyes wide, naked brow raised, mouth big enough to tempt flies.
Nathan laughed and jumped up. "That's awesome — that is just awesome! Check it out, Wink, I did magic. Real, genuine, bona fide magic. And man, I feel like I could do it a thousand times over. Must have been all that chalk I absorbed, right? Right, Wink?"
Wink nodded, but he maintained his dumbfounded look, eyes still stuck on the glyph. "That shouldn't be possible. I just figured we'd try it; didn't really think it'd work."
"You also said me absorbing the chalk was impossible. So, hey — two impossible things in a few minutes. Not bad for a guy who just got here about an hour ago." Nathan did some windmills with his arms, spinning them around with a stupid grin on his face. "I didn't even notice earlier, but I feel super energetic. Like I didn't even run from monsters and shoot down zip lines."
"It's the magic in your — " Wink scrunched his brow in thought — "in your wherever it is. Your spirit, I guess. The magic in those two pieces of chalk could keep you running for a week without any sleep, maybe more if you just lounged around. I've heard of Guardians staying awake for months before. There's a rumor that High Guardian Caladon hasn't slept even once since he took his icon."
Wink flicked a finger against the glyph and it powered on, spewing water all onto his floor. He hardly seemed to care, preferring to stare at it with his inquisitive eyes rather than stop its flow.
"Hey, what about your papers? The water is soaking them," Nathan said.
"It's just like mine," Wink muttered. "The script is identical to the script in the kitchen. Has the same flaws and everything. Same tiny chip in the keyscript and warp in the circle. Weakens the flow a little."
Nathan gave him a cheeky smile. "Well, I don't mean to brag, but if my first glyph was as good as yours, then things are looking up for me. If we weren't underground, I'd say that the sky's the limit."
Wink finally looked at Nathan. "You can copy glyphs — that's the only explanation I can think of. And if that's true, then you could make perfect glyphs every time if we get you the right template." He stood up and ran out into the living room. With his tiny fist, he delivered a mighty blow to the snoring Graham's vulnerable gut.
Graham let out a wheeze and opened his eyes. "I'm up, I'm up! Not sleeping, ready to sweep, please don't hit me again."
"Graham," Wink said so loudly that Graham winced. "Nathan can absorb pure magic and create glyphs without chalk."
"Good, good, that's good." Graham rubbed his eyes and yawned. Then he looked at Wink as though he were an alien trying to communicate through dance. "Wait, what? What did you just say?"
Wink ran to his bedroom, pale feet squelching on the wet rug. He grabbed the board and came back, holding the thing in his hand like a hose, shooting water all over the living room floor.
"Oh, come on, Wink, come on. You're flooding the slopping living room."
"Look at what he made." Wink held the thing up to Graham, water spraying both of them and wetting the couch. "He did it by just touching his hand against the board, Gray — just touching a single hand against it. Imagine what he could do. He could change the world with this, he could — "
Graham slapped the board, disabling the glyph and knocking it out of Wink's hand. He tried to stand up and slipped on the wet planks of the floor, falling hard on his rear with a grunt. His eyes were filled with pointy daggers as he stared up at Wink's unashamed face.
Nathan struggled greatly not to laugh at the scene. He hoped that in staying quiet, he would not be made the subject of Graham's wrath. There looked to be plenty enough daggers in his glare to stab more than just Wink.
"I am wet, Wink." His voice was like the calm before the storm. "I am wet, you are wet, the living room is wet, and your bedroom is wet. Most importantly, though, the couch is wet. Can you please explain to me why you felt the need to make so many things wet in our very expensive and, normally, very dry home?"
"Well, I just — I figured, I thought, I was hoping maybe that — "
Graham sighed. "Just get the heating glyph, would you? Let's clean this mess up."
Wink's embarrassment was tossed into the breeze at the order. "Nathan can make one. Watch this. Hold on, Nathan, I'll get the glyph for you to copy." He ran into the bathroom and came out after a few seconds of what sounded like frantic rummaging. Another board was in his hand, this one with a glyph twice as large as the water glyph. He set it on the ground and gestured for Nathan to trip it.
Nathan obliged him. He tripped it with a smack then disabled it with another. Then he went to work in front of his two attentive spectators, closing his eyes and setting his hand upon the floor. After a few seconds of thinking and imagining the glyph in his head, the rush ran through him like a snake, slithering up his insides and into his hand as a faint glow.
"No way," Graham whispered. "Does it work?"
Wink tripped it with a stomp, and they all felt the glyph's intense heat blow against them. "Definitely works. See, Gray? Imagine what he could do with a power like this. The legend was right after all."
"It's definitely impressive."
"Impressive?" Wink seemed offended by the words, visibly recoiling and furrowing his brow. "He could copy our most powerful glyphs — sixth and seventh-order ones — and throw them onto the ground in seconds. Perfectly, too. No flaws. Those things take weeks to draw, and even experts regularly mess them up."
"Well, yeah, that is pretty awesome. But still, we don't even know the limits of his powers. It's too early to — " Graham wiped his forehead. "Nathan save us, why are we talking in here? It's hotter than an oven. Let's go upstairs while this mess gets cleaned up."
The three of them left the apartment and walked up the stairs to the roof. Nathan had little trouble with the brief excursion; his legs felt as good as new — better than new thanks to the chalk he absorbed. They sat atop the Grand Davide, legs hanging off its edge, swinging.
"So, Nathan," Graham began, "You've been here for about two hours and you've already fulfilled the first part of the prophecy. Got your powers and all that good stuff. What's your plan for the rest of the day, though? Fulfill the rest of it?"
"I don't even know the rest of it. Wink mentioned the part about my powers, and Annie said something about a hero, but that isn't really enough to paint a clear picture. What, am I meant to be a sort of messiah or something? The chosen one who saves the world?"
He laughed at the idea. Him, Nathan Mayhew, the fantasy hero? Fat chance of that. No swords would slide out the stone for him, no sir. It was a regular and unheroic life for him one hundred percent of the way. And he was more than content with the blandness of his destiny.
Graham and Wink gave each other a look, then turned to Nathan. They stared at him until the message got across, and the smile dropped from his face.
"Oh. Well, how does a guy get his name changed around these parts?"
สถานะพลังงานรายสัปดาห์
-- การจัดอันดับด้วยพลัง 
-- หินพลัง