Zeph Malston: The Aether Mage

1 Accidents Happen

?Well, you know that feeling when you just wake up and your back and neck are at just the level of soreness to make moving a hassle? That's how I feel everywhere. And I'll be honest, it sucks. Now I just gotta get over this groggy feeling in my head and figure out what's going on. Hmm, should probably open my eyes for that.

It was a decently clean looking place. It reminds me of a hospital room with the white walls and sparse decor. Makes sense considering, wait... it seems I have some memory gaps. The most obvious of which is my name. I know I should be in a hospital room, but the reason why eludes me. That's when some of the fog started lifting. Now I'm certain there are definitely some memory gaps here. I remember a lot about my life, the usual stuff, like highlights from my childhood, my family, my friends and general goings on. But it's odd because I don't "feel" the memories, it's like I'm watching the memories. Even though they're mine there's this disconnect. That's disconcerting. ?

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Bernard Malston was currently trying not to freak out. He summoned a soul, more importantly, he plucked a soul from the afterlife and placed it in a foreign body. Sure it was an accident. He just wanted to summon a harmless spirit and see if he could animate his new creation. But if this got out, losing his magic license was the least of his worries. Tampering with souls was on the top of the no-no list. Hell! He practically did necromancy. The Council of Magisters would banish him to the great void, or some other bone-chilling fate that he didn't even want to imagine.

Today was such a good day too. He had finally finished his new creation, a bio-magical constructed material. He named it Aetherite, after the debunked mystical fifth element Aether. You know, like Earth, Wind, Water, Fire, and then Aether, the stuff dreams are made of...in a literal sense. It was supposed to open the gateway to a brand new world of medicine, technology and who knows what else. He had combined non-living inorganic materials and using magic, tried making them function like living tissue. After years of failure, he had tried it from the opposite end, making living tissue like ones from plants and making them develop properties similar to inorganics. His hope of making, with the proper spirit and magical enchantment, a universal Omni-tool was close. It was going to be his magnum opus, a synthetic material that can be molded for just about any purpose with just a little modification.

When he started summoning a spirit to help mold his precious new block of miracles, he may have screwed up a few of the details in his excitement. It was intended to be something small, with just a flicker of consciousness, like a wisp, or a remnant thought given ethereal form. Then again that's what he gets for trying to combine spirit magic, which he was never that great at, with his untested invention. Sure spirit magic had been around for centuries. The practice of summoning help from semi-material beings from another plane of existence was one of the reasons humanity thrived to his day. But those things usually had little to no sentience; needing magic from the summoner to give them wills and forms. Too much was unknown about the ethereal and studies on what magicians were able to manifest were still being conducted. And he just had to have the bright Idea to combine that with an untested, unstudied, non-understood living magic metal block of question marks. Once he completed the summoning spell, it was like the Aetherite was sucking the power of the ethereal plane uncontrollably. What should have been a quick bit of easy spellcraft turned into minutes, maybe hours of magical chaos? He couldn't be sure because his sense of time along with most of his others went on vacation. He was stunned stuck mouth agape witnessing what was probably the first and only miracle that will ever happen in his lifetime.

It was a good thing that Bernard lived a life of seclusion that was mostly voluntary, because the noise, lights and shaking would have seriously pissed off the neighbors...if he had any. Recovering from his stupor, he had noticed that the Aetherite had started changing. From the big block of silver luster that it was, to what was now liquefying and slowly forming the outline of a person. It was mystifying, watching liquid metal. Light flowed from the torso, from which legs and arms began to emerge. Originally, there wasn't enough material to make an object this big. But to his surprise, the Aetherite was pulling mana from its surroundings and self-replicating. When he realized that, fear gripped him and he was paralyzed. A head started to form. He was like a deer in the headlights, unable to look away, to run, and to destroy whatever abomination he feared he created before it was unleashed on an unsuspecting world. But he stood, stood and watched as the sheen on the newly formed body dulled, the greys turning pale then pink, then orange, and finally deciding on a mixture of the three. It was flesh, skin as flawless as a newborn child. Next was hair, it grew faintly along the body and then atop the head. Dark as midnight and with a hint of luminescence, the hair grew down to the shoulders.

Bernard was shaking, blood pounding through his veins urging him to flee. But he couldn't, he had to know. The story of his life, his downfall and the cause of most of his misery, it was the need to know. He stepped forward, it took all he had but he did. After that first heavy footfall came the next and then the one after. He stood by the table looking at the resting figure of a young boy, no more than twelve. He looked innocent and unblemished. Bernard slowly brought his hand to the boy's forehead, and with great trepidation sent his magic into him. It was a spell used for medical treatment, to scan the body for abnormalities, and check for magical ailments. His heart stopped and his mind reel at the realization that the Aetherite had formed a human body. Organs, bones, blood, and flesh, it was all there. It was a human being or at least a damn good imitation of one. The most jaw-dropping fear-inducing realization was when his magic seeped into the body, inspecting it and studying it, he felt it. A soul, instead of a faint wisp of consciousness waiting for an order as he had planned. He felt sentience, the signs of self-awareness, and the brain was alive. It was active, the young boy was dreaming. The world that had faded away slowly started to creep back. A bird tweeting just outside the window the wind lightly brushing his face, and the sound of breathing brought Bernard back from his daze.

He didn't know what do, hell what should he do. A soul was accidentally summoned from who knows where and he trapped it in a new body. Bernard was clueless on what to do next. Lifting the child, he took him into another room. He placed the boy on a bed. Complex thought simply eluded him at this moment. He needed time, time to sort himself out.

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The youth slowly rose from the bed. The movements were stiff, but he was sure that after he moved for a bit, it would pass. He was still distracted in his thoughts when he made his way towards the door. It was then that he passed by a mirror and saw his reflection. He had to do a double take, because the face looking back at him wasn't his. Well, it was his, but it shouldn't be. He hadn't looked like that in years. Denial, that's what he felt. He walked closer towards it while bringing his hands to his face. He touched his chin, pulled his cheeks and pressed his hand to his forehead. He squished and pulled and stretched until he had to admit the truth. He was looking at himself, his younger self. He stepped back and spoke, "Hello, anyone there?" It was soft, barely over a whisper. He tried again. A little louder the second time, but still no response. So, he went to the door and opened it. A few steps out and he saw what seemed to be a kitchen. It was pretty large and well kept. But the thing that drew his attention was an old man sitting, elbows on the table with his head held between his hands. He had white hair and a short beard. He would look like a stereotypical wizard, but his robe looked more like a lab coat. It seemed old guy noticed him as the old man's hands fell and slowly turned to look at him. Now that the boy had someone to listen, he decided to ask a question.

"Hi, umm I'm a little confused. Can you tell me what I'm doing here and uh, what's going on?"

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