Page 26 of Acolyte (Tempris #2)

-An excerpt from the ABCs of Time Magic

M is for mimic.

The mimic is a Class VII multidimensional eldritch beast that feeds off anomalies and aberrations in the timelines.

During periods of overpopulation or famine, they can be drawn to our world to feed, often lured by the imprecise nature of a young time mage’s magic.

For this reason, the mimic is considered one of the greatest risks for untrained time mages.

Adult mimics are highly aggressive and predatory and will suck their victims down to the marrow, sometimes continuing to feed on a time mage’s anima once their bloodborne aether is spent.

“Time is a tapestry,” Azura said one morning over breakfast .

Taly was seated on a low garden wall, idly chewing on a piece of toast while she scribbled notes.

They didn’t usually take their morning meal together, but when they did, Azura insisted they start their day in the solarium.

With its glass ceiling and glass walls all covered with creeping vines dotted with clusters of fat red berries, it made dealing with the Queen almost tolerable. Especially considering the early hour.

“Not literally, of course,” Azura went on, carefully trimming a handful of berries from a nearby bush.

“But that is, perhaps, the easiest way to visualize it. If you look at a tapestry on a loom, the threads all interlock, weaving together into something larger; something more than its individual parts. And then if you begin to think of those threads as people, animals, places, each one forging its own path through the weft, all feeding into the greater design—it’s like a tapestry.

“All of creation is bound by time, every one of us—our lives, the decisions we make—merely threads on a loom. That is why we call the picture it creates the Weave. It’s simpler, that way.”

“So then where do time mages fit in?” Taly asked, checking over her notes before looking up from her journal.

Azura arched a brow—a signal to continue.

“If you cut a thread in a tapestry,” Taly said, “it begins to fray. Loosen or pull that thread, and the image distorts. A time mage’s spells inherently alter time, which means that if time really is a tapestry, they would change the structure of the Weave—loosening, pulling, cutting. Why doesn’t the whole thing unravel?”

Azura moved to the next plant, rearranging the smock she wore over her sunshine yellow gown as she said, “Can a tapestry not be repaired? If a thread is cut, can it not be rewoven so that the greater work of art remains unbroken? Our magic alters time—that is true. But if a spell is cast correctly, it will stabilize the surrounding threads.”

“And if a spell isn’t cast correctly?”

“It depends.” Azura clipped off another cluster of berries, adding them to the basket hanging from the crook of her arm.

“Sometimes nothing. Time does have some ability to self-repair.” She shot meaningful glance at Taly.

“In other cases, you’ll see a mage that manages to remove herself from the Weave entirely, creating her own little time loop outside the fabric of reality.

” Taly blushed, ducking her head and pretending to write something very important.

“That is why untrained time mages are so dangerous. Their magic is unpredictable and can have far-reaching consequences.”

Moving to a nearby table, Azura set down her garden shears and her basket, then pulled the floppy brimmed hat from her head.

She picked up a cluster of berries, smiling as she held them up to the light.

“Have you ever seen a more perfect sugarberry?” she asked.

“It took me 400 years to refine the growing process. They need full sun in the morning, but also protection from the afternoon heat. If the soil goes dry at any point during the growing cycle, the crop suffers.”

There was a small control interface resting on the edge of the table, and Azura touched a finger to a water crystal set into the surface, releasing a flurry of liquid butterflies that flitted through the air.

They alighted on leaves and berries before dissolving into a rain of mist that began to trickle down.

“I never had time for such things when I was serving as queen, but now… well, I’ve become something of an amateur horticulturalist. I’ve set up several solariums inside the protection of the palace, where time still moves linearly.

Tomorrow, I’ll take you to see my orchids. They started blooming last night.”

Taly let out a soft sigh, licked butter and jam off her fingers, and reached for a cup of coffee sitting beside her.

Turning a page, she skimmed her notes from the previous day.

The Queen was always going off on tangents.

Eventually, she would find her way back to the lesson, and until then, all Taly had to do was nod at the appropriate times and give the occasional “uh-huh.”

Which she did as she turned another page, only half-listening as the Queen droned on about soil acidity, pH balance, and other things that weren’t time magic.

After two months, life at the palace had fallen into a relentless rhythm, sliding by in a blur of hard work and constant toil.

Meditation before breakfast, then she’d spend the rest of the morning studying chronal theory in either her room or the library.

Afternoons, she worked one-on-one with the Queen, and if their lesson released on time, she would be sent to the training yard for conditioning exercises and weapons training.

Otherwise, Leto would pick her up straight from the study room, rushing her off to be primped and plucked and stuffed into a frothy creampuff of a dress for a formal dinner with the Queen.

Every day followed the same pattern, the same endless cycle, right down to the nightmares that chased her from sleep every night.

Most mornings, she woke up feeling worse than she had when she’d collapsed into bed, although sometimes, if she was lucky, she managed to push herself past the point of exhaustion.

That was the only way to stop the dreams.

Tonight would be one of those nights. She could feel it—even her bones ached, and the skin beneath her eyes had turned a lovely shade of purple.

A sugarberry bounced off Taly’s head.

“I don’t feel like you’re listening to me,” Azura said a bit sharply.

“That’s because I’m not.” The sugarberry landed beside her, and Taly reached for it, popping it into her mouth.

Living up to its name, sweetness burst onto her tongue.

“Unless you grew these plants with time magic, this has nothing to do with, well, anything. I’d also venture to say that this is hardly the perfect sugarberry.

It’s a touch bitter.” Though a part of her wondered if she ever would’ve noticed the difference as a human.

Maybe it was the perfect sugarberry. Maybe this was the way sugarberries were supposed to taste, in which case…

Shards, first coffee, and now being fey had even ruined sugarberries.

Azura frowned as she tossed her shears onto the table. “I see there’s no accounting for taste,” she said, holding up her hands in what looked like surrender. “Fine. I thought that for one moment we might… but never mind. Lady Fun-Killer demands that we work, so that is exactly what we shall do.”

Taly felt a small pang of guilt as Azura removed her smock and began folding it. She wasn’t sure yet if she believed that there was some future version of her that became this woman’s friend, but if there was, that Taly probably would’ve gladly listened to her ramble on about sugarberries.

Azura asked, “How are your individual studies progressing? Are you still meditating?”

Taly nodded. “Every morning.”

“And your aether? How are you at controlling it?”

Taly held out a hand and nudged the magic she could now feel sparking in her veins. A golden haze began to crackle the air. She snapped her fingers, and the manifestation immediately extinguished.

“Good,” was all Azura said as she laid the smock next to the shears and the basket. “That means we can move onto casting.”

Taly sat up a little straighter at that. Finally . There was a long list of spells she needed to master before she could pass her third seal and be called an Acolyte, and up until now, she’d been forbidden from casting anything at all.

“The second seal requires only a basic understanding of spellcasting,” Azura explained.

“You’ll need to demonstrate how to slow, accelerate, and stop time within a limited area of effect.

These three spells form the foundation of all time magic.

Entire wars have been won using only the fundamentals. ”

Taly began jotting down notes. She’d have to transfer them later to the journal she kept in her room—the one that had been transcribed, organized, and supplemented with annotations from her readings.

If this had been five years ago, Skye would’ve come begging for a copy later that night.

She never thought there would be a day when she missed that inevitable knock on her door.

“For most fey,” Azura said, leaning back against the table and reaching for a cup of tea, “casting is a reflex. It’s not something that’s taught; it’s just something that you do .

Many children begin using their magic mere moments after their Attunement Ceremonies.

Even you—before your mother made you human—were no doubt performing basic spells.

However, after observing you these months, I think it’s safe to say that as an adult, you’ve lost the ability to consciously manipulate your magic.

My normal teaching methods won’t work, I’m afraid.

You’d likely just end up dead. Or stuck in another pocket universe. Neither are ideal.”

Taly couldn’t help the way her expression fell. “What do I do then?”