Cohost writing prompt: @Making-Up-Adventurers — Adventurer who's got a million of em
"Well, of course, I didn't think at the time I was making myself any kind of — guardian of reality, or any such thing. Simple, old-fashioned academic oneupmanship: all those idiots who wanted to become eternal via lichdom, as if being undead is a reasonable solution, when chronomancy is right there. Eternity is the domain of time manipulation! It's a trivial line of enquiry to arrive at! — but, there, you see, I just wanted to be right. And show them up. And be immortal, obviously."
Tanjia nods along, and smiles at the Eternity Mage's breathless laugh. She taps her pencil thoughtfully on her notebook. "And so you made yourself an immortal time-travelling — how do you phrase it?"
"Auto-hivemind."
"And that's when you discovered a calling to protect the cosmos?"
"Oh, no, please don't put that in your periodical." the Mage winces a little. "It's really not so noble. Only that with my perspective now, our world is like a single bubble of sea-foam on the surface of an entire ocean, and things live in the ocean, and some of them are monsters we can't imagine — not even me. And I like the world; it's where I live, after all. It's terribly hard to convince anyone else to conduct magical rituals whose enactment takes longer than the life of kingdoms. Of entire political systems that crown kings of kingdoms, so, you know — sometimes you just have to say, well, I'll do it myself, then. Don't you?"
"And so you're the lone protector of the entirety of time?"
"Ah. Well." The Eternity Mage uncrosses and re-crosses her legs, smooths her skirt. "I don't know that alone is the right — perhaps the lone architect of my design. But my chosen ritual medium is, for all my chronomantic innovation, very traditional."
Tanjia tilts her head, poises her pencil for any interesting tidbit she might interest the Journal's readership with.
"Well, it's life-affirming, and it's available in all eras, and — you don't need to rely on the persistence of any infrastructure," the Mage says. "...For sex magic."
"Oh," Tanjia says, and pushes a stray curl behind her ear, and reflects that she'll have to be circumspect with the details. "So. Participatory ritual magic?"
"Yes!" the Mage laughs breathlesly again, eyes sparkling. "And the rest is all — you know. Repetition, through time. Setting up waves and resonances across the fabric of history. I'm in a position to do a high-accuracy, sophisticated version of what cults attempt with their simple, fanatic-based 'every thousand years' malarkey. Although, goodness, I wouldn't care to admit how simple the fundamental principle is, to some of my peers — the Many-Angled, bless her, she doesn't need the ego. Don't worry," she adds, gesturing kindly toward Tanjia's notebook; "not your era."
"So the basic idea," Tanjia says slowly, "is that you have ritual sex at a lot of carefully chosen points in history. As a hivemind that sort of — experiences that all together, across time. And the repetition amplifies the ritual effect."
"I count as my greatest achievement the single-handed scheduling of a million-partner polycule," the Mage says brightly. "...Of course, it helps that from many of my partners' points of view it's indistinguishable from serial monogamy."
Tanjia blinks. "So it's not," she says, and scratches her scalp with the blunt end of her pencil, hesitates over the question. "I'm sorry, this is a little personal," she adds. "It's not just sex, then?"
"Well." the Mage grins wryly. "Not always. I don't claim to be that much of a romantic."
"You're immortal," Tanjia says. "I can't imagine...opening myself up to a million ends."
They're both silent for a while, Tanjia worried she's ventured a little too much, the Mage staring into the distance, thinking, inscrutable.
"Perspective," she says finally. "Perspective, and — people are worth it. I won't tell you it's easy, or that I always want to find it worth it. But I find it in me to love, and really, if you want to talk about why I protect the universe — it's not for its own abstract sake. Finding people to be worth saving came first, because they're worth loving. Because I love people, so many people, so many ways." And she smiles, within a still-complicated expression.
Tanjia nods, and decides to seek relief in shallower conversational waters. "Anyone special that brings you to our humble era's vicinity?" she says lightly.
"Not just yet." The Eternity Mage picks up her cup of tea — still steaming, though it should be long cold — and sips. "Though I do have an appointment that requires bringing someone to unspeakable pleasure in a private box at the City Opera House during the second act of this Friday's performance of The Thunder-Beast." She twitches the corner of her mouth.
"For important arcane purposes?" Tanjia says archly.
"Let's say yes," the Mage says. "It's true, even. Do you know anyone who enjoys the opera, by happenstance?"
Tanjia, with the sudden and distinct feeling that her interview with the Mage may not be entirely unconnected with the opera-going dresses in her armoire, presses a knuckle to her lips with a thoughtful expression. "Goodness," she says. "I might be able to think of one, by Friday, I suppose."