An Unusual Connection

Chapter 2: An Unusual Connection

I have a suspicion what planet this might be, and I really don’t see how it could be anything else, but I hope I’m wrong. All I could see from the astronomical surroundings in my Space mode was where this planet was located: far away from any major Wizardry or military holding. Assuming the phoenix was able to meet my requirements for safety, this planet would also hold no interest for raiders. All this means the planet is one big worthless ball of rotational space junk.

It is comfortable, though. Gravity and atmosphere are standard, and the star is at the ideal distance for maintaining life-producing temperatures. From the astronomical view, I could see that this planet has only two main continents: one Northern, one Southern. Doubtless there would be islands in between, but those would be so small as to be negligible in astronomical scale. The phoenix had dropped me on the Southern continent, somewhere near the northeast corner. The location I’d been deposited on had several marks on the ground, suggesting many others had also been deposited here. There are no signs of any technology or civilization of any kind.

This does not bode well.

All around me are trees bearing various kinds of fruits. They’re numerous enough to look naturally grown and planted, but I suspect otherwise: they strongly resemble bio-engineered trees I’d seen while in the Military. None of the trees look magical. Dozens of footprints lead off in every direction; some footprints go in circles, making me again wary that this planet must be the one for the Deranged. There’s one set of footprints that look relatively recent and seem to be walking in a straight line. That’s the set I choose to follow.

The footprints disappear as soon as I enter the forest, but I do my best to head in the general direction. The trees, overripe with fruit, have littered the ground with their droppings. Squishy, rotten fruit oozes under my shoes as I walk, their sickly sweet odor wafting into the air. The fruit I grab to eat is sweet and overflowing with fluids, clearly designed to supply the eater with both calories and water… almost certainly bio-engineered. It’s been a long time since I’ve been left on my own in a forest—the last time named me Wizard and forced me out of the Military—but I remember enough to survive. Odd, though: I hear cooing birds, small rodents, insects, but no sounds to indicate any kind of predator. The sounds from the normal prey animals are cacophonous, far louder than they should have been.

Were there no natural predators here?

The longer I walk, the more certain of my suspicions I become. This continent, at least, seems to have been bio-engineered to allow humans the greatest ease of survival. No natural predators. Fruit so juicy it satisfies both hunger and thirst. Animals that know no predators and thus are easy to kill and eat. I bet somewhere nearby there are freshwater streams and rivers. Everything a person needs to survive with none of the struggle that would normally be found in an uncivilized, untechnological location such as this.

If I am right, the danger on this planet comes not from lack of natural resources or natural predators, but from people. With Burago and Liara nearly depleted, I’m just a Normal. A Normal who grew up military, but with muscles that haven’t been trained or used for years. My body mods were designed to protect me from military weapons and to hide me from the Wizardry. They won’t be any help here, against Normals. And if I am right, the Normals here will be particularly unpredictable.

The Deranged… rumors of them penetrate every level of our society, but no one talks about them much. No one is more stigmatized in the Wizardry or the Military than the Deranged. They are those with minds so broken they couldn’t function, so broken that their very existence prevented the rest of us from being able to focus on our own lives. The rumor is that they are dropped on some distant planet with no military or magical properties, and far enough from any valuable resource to not be attractive to Raiders.

That once-distant planet sounds an awful lot like this one.

A moderate sting near my wrists reminds me of the holes made by Burago and Liara only a few hours before. The wounds are still open, and still bleeding. I stop walking. These have to be treated, or they will become infected. I hold Burago in my hand gently, close my eyes, and focus my energy on the wand. The tiniest spark is left. It might be enough to heal one of these wounds, but not both. And it would pain me to do it. To use up a wand has the taste of cruelty in it, though I do not know why. I focus instead on Liara, pulling my energy into her (Her? Where did that thought come from?), sensing what magic is left. Just enough to heal both wounds without emptying the wand of power… but the magic energy that would be left would not be useful for anything greater than creating a small puff of fire. Still, it would be enough to leave her—I allow that strange realization to stay with me—some degree of power.

I hold her gently in my right hand, focus her energies towards the wound on my left wrist, and command Heal. The wound on my left wrist closes up, the skin grafting over the wound seamlessly. There is a noticeable drain from her and a sense of lessening that invades my consciousness.

This is odd. Wands are just tools to be used by wizards: we name them, we bind them, we use them. Most wizards feel some sorrow at using up a wand, but it is the sorrow comparable to that felt by a technologist when a favorite appliance breaks. No wand has ever been anything but an “it”, no matter the name. And this sense of draining, as far as I understand it, should not be felt by the wizard, especially not for an unbound wand.

Perhaps this is just because I’ve never used up a wand before. That thought is mildly reassuring, but nagging doubts remain: surely the Wand Faction would have noticed this before and warned their fellow Wizards of it?

Stinging from my right hand, where blood is still dripping, ends my ruminations. With a nearly apologetic sense, I focus Liara—her—on my right wrist, commanding Heal. The wound heals neatly, but the sense of loss nearly overwhelms me.