“Oh, yeah! Right there, that’s perfect… oooh, your fingers feel so good when you—ah, aah!”

“Han, if you don’t stop that right now, I’m never giving you a massage again, okay?”

In the few seconds pause Fena took to growl her threat out at me, I took the chance to roll over on the bed and smirk up at her cheekily for the sake of it.

“Revenge for earlier, plus you just know John’s listening in at the door since we declared this room a ‘girls only’ space and he refused my helpful offer of an appropriate set of feminine nightwear for him to use if he wanted to even try and pull the ‘Diana/Artemis’ card on us as a way in.”

Fena smiled down at me proudly from her current position, kneeling either side of my waist to give herself better access to my back as she works. Despite the plausibly rather naughty look of things to an outside observer, this isn’t actually that uncommon a situation for us in any other circumstance. Fena’s always been a big believer in her own massage skills and even back when I was Al, she’d find any excuse to practice on a willing body if I looked like I’d had a bit of a stressful mission. At one point Edith actually tried to ban us from doing this sort of thing, grumbling something about ‘cradle robbing’ that mystified me at the time but makes a bit more sense when you consider the apparent age difference between us, Fena being a four-hundred-plus-year old vampire and all.

“He’s got it so bad for you now. You know that, right?”

I hesitated to actually answer her back verbally, just on the odd chance John really was listening at the door like the creepy ex-stalker he is. But eventually, I settled for an awkward little nod and blush that made Fena fall back on the bed with a cackle of amusement. Her laughter went up in volume over time as she rolled off of me and my blush went even brighter along with it. Before I could come up with a solid defence or an argument in response to her obvious amusement, the bedroom door opened loudly and Sarah poked her head inside with extreme caution. Apparently, when it became evident we weren’t doing exactly what she thought we might be doing, she relaxed and stepped into the room properly, looking mildly annoyed for being tricked so easily, much to my amusement.

“I came to ask if you two could keep it down, but obviously that would kind of defeat your intentions, huh?”

Feeling in a bit of a silly mood, possibly thanks to the two boxes of empty and now proven somehow worryingly effective alcoholic chocolates at the end of my wrapper strewn bed, I offered her a childish finger-wave instead of outright agreeing with her anyway.

“Well, it’s getting late. So can you both just—are those chocolates?”

An evil little smirk crossed my lips, and I pulled the bed covers over slightly to unveil the stockpile of boxes I spent almost five minutes stealing from everyone else’s rooms before they finally managed to get an elevator and catch up with us.

Sarah’s returning grin felt amazing on so many levels, especially when she negligently kicked the door closed behind her in order to make a flying leap and join me on the bed instead. That feeling was only enhanced by an apparent grunt of annoyance from the other side of the door moments later that can only really have one source at this point!

…We know him far too well at times…

“What was all that groaning about earlier then? And why are you wearing only a sports bra, Han!”

We all cracked up laughing a few seconds later, and I made a dive for the next fresh box of chocolates quickly, in order to hopefully deflect the question, until Sarah’s in as equally giggly a mood as we are.

=====

“Dad said I had to go and check what you’re all doing, then go back out, and tell him.”

Somewhat drunkenly, I turned my head from my current position on the bed, in order to offer a thoughtful stare at Eris, as she stood nervously in the doorway, for some reason. After a few seconds Fena spoke up and said something I wasn’t really paying attention to, making Eris quickly shut the door behind her to come join us all on the bed, eventually stopping wedged between me and the far more drunk form of Sarah on my right, with a giggle or two. Apparently, Sarah may have magic now, but she hasn’t quite got the whole ‘mage biology’ thing down yet, because while I’ve been happily eating these gorgeous chocolates by the handful for the last few hours, and feel just the right side of tipsy, she managed less than five of them before promptly collapsing on the bed in a slurred giggle-fit which gave way pretty quickly to sleep itself like a prom date who drank her first spiked punch that very night.

…The power of mage biology should never be underestimated!…

“Got any more of that wine, Fena? Also, turn the TV up, would you? I can barely hear it over ‘Gigglebox’ here.”

I punctuated that statement by nudging Eris in the ribs gently, which predictably set her off on another giggle-fit as I’d hoped it would.

“Do you think they make these things without the alcohol in them? Doesn’t seem fair that I can eat them but Eris can’t. Although, that being said, she’s a mage, too, so maybe she can have, like, a few of them or something, right?”

For some reason, Fena heaved a big sigh from her current position leaning against the headboard, nursing a glass of her own ‘wine’ like a rather pale-looking, bored housewife watching soap operas at two in the afternoon, instead of answering any of my pressing questions. So, I decided that counted as agreement and offered Erisa single chocolate anyway.

…She’ll be f-fiiine…

======

“We figured we should come in and check on you girls in case John is right, as impossible as that seems with just how wild his theories about what you’re all doing in here are getting at this p—”

There was a long awkward pause and I was kind of tempted to look over to find out why Trudy had stopped speaking all of a sudden. Inevitably, though, my eyes were drawn back to the glowing fabric in my hands as I ran my fingers across the rune sets of my damaged prototype suit, to see what parts looked familiar or even vaguely recoverable, now that the actual suit itself is a write-off.

“Do I even want to ask what Hannah’s doing in the corner under a pile of glowing black cloth?”

Yet again, the temptation to look over was strong, but I resisted with my considerable powers of perseverance, focusing more on the odd pointy-lined rune in front of me that I just couldn’t figure out the name or purpose of, no matter how long I stared at it in frustration. My free hand dropped to my side and snagged another chocolate to help me focus better before going back to its position, running charged fingers over the rune to see what it connected to and why.

“She mumbled something about salvaging runes. I dunno really. Honestly, Al was usually blackout drunk after taking in the amount of alcohol she’s had twice over already. I’m kind of scared to provoke her at this point.”

Some kind of fabric behind me shifted somewhat, but it was barely noticeable above the rustle of silky suit-fabric in my hands.

“I’d have to say it’s quite possible that our Hannah is some kind of ‘drunk savant’, one who gets weird or just downright stupid ideas in her head while completely off her tits. It’s a theory I’ve been working on for a while, at least; this is the first time I’ve been able to observe the effect in a controlled environment.”

I could practically feel Trudy and Rosemary share one of those looks they always share like an old married couple, or Me and Sarah, I guess. Eventually, Trudy muttered something about ‘keeping an eye on us both’ and Rosemary happily went over to lay on the bed next to Eris while snagging one of my chocolate boxes for herself from the rustling sound that followed her movement across the room.
…Ah, ha! It’s an Aten rune!…

Of course, it’s an Aten rune! It’s all pointy because the sun’s rays are supposed to be coming off of the
central circle. Damn! Am I good or what? I never would have thought of using one of those in this matrix. That’s genius!
…We a-are genius-us-es…
Exactly! I’m a genius and I didn’t even know it—well, I kinda knew it—but I’m not conceited enough to admit that aloud.

…Where’d we pu’ those cho-chocolates ’gain?…

======

“The Aten rune’s connected to the—
Absorbeō rune…
The Absorbeō rune’s connected to the—
Föregripa rune…
The Föregripa rune holds main control cluster dominance over the—
Heat diversion glyph…
And that’s where it’s safe to cut!
Doo-doo-doo!…”

…Quit it! That song is so bad it’s making me sober, while also giving me a headache!…

“Why's Han sitting in the corner muttering to herself?”
…Huh?…

“She ate sixteen boxes of those chocolates, the same chocolates Sarah ate barely a handful of before going full, giggly drunk and quickly falling asleep on the bed.”
…Lightweight…

“Okay, so she's wasted? That still doesn't answer what she's doing sitting in the corner with a load of black cloth draped over her and a pair of bloody scissors in her hands.”
…Now that he says it, that does seem like a pretty bad idea, don’t ya think?…

“She mumbled something about ‘salvaging’ and then went all quiet pulling Al's concentration face—I didn't have the heart to stop her, honestly.”
…What concentration face? We don’t have a concentration face, do we?…

“You really loved him, didn't you?”
…What?…

“Shut up, Max! We aren't having a moment here. Just go do whatever you’re going to do. I'll keep an eye on Han and the others until she either passes out or, more likely, almost blows herself up.”
…Can you believe this, we’re sitting right here, and they’re talking about us as if we’re not!…

“Fine, but if she blows up the tower in her drunken tinkering, then I’m blaming it on your bad influence, O’corruptive Vampire Queen of Darkness!”

“Right back at you, Maxarimus, Arista’s Folly!”

======

Something slammed loudly behind me, making me jump in surprise and turn to stare blearily around the room, only to find nothing of interest but a load of sleeping people and a creepily smirking Fena, who seems to be staring at the door in amusement for some reason. Wonder what that was about?
…You’re such a dopey drunk…

Oh well, back to work!

“The Skepia rune’s connected to the—
Brauðgǫrð rune…
The Skepia rune’s also connected to the—
Skenkja rune…
And that’s where it’s safe to cut!…
Doo-doo-doo!…”

…Ugh! Quit singing that stupid song already! Can you even hear me?…

“The Ahvayati rune’s connected to the—”
…Powers, damn it!…

======

“Urgmuffmnn—”

Slowly, the world swam back into existence around me. The first thing I noticed was that I had a massive headache, one so bad that I lost almost a minute just trying to get a handle on my magic, enough that I could use some old blood magic tricks and essentially numb my brain, for all it’s worth right now.

When my magic finally decided to behave, the next thing I managed to pick up was the rather awkward position I was in. Namely, lying on a bed with several people apparently claiming my body parts as their own sleepy domains. Sarah is practically wrapped around my head like an overly squidgy pillow and, if I’m not mistaken, then the little weight I can feel squeezing my right leg would be Eris, judging by the way she’s nuzzling her face against my kneecap right now.
More importantly, there is a pair of legs practically wrapped around my Eris-free leg and hip tightly, while their presumably associated warm hands are busy being wrapped possessively around my waist or squeezing one of my boobs, respectively.

My brain finally made the appropriate connections necessary to be considered functional by standard definitions. The moment it finished rebooting, I jerked upright in bed, receiving a round of muffled grumbles and complaints from my former pillow-sister, leg restraint-daughter and far-too-grabby best friend at the same time.

It took a bit of effort on my part but, considering ‘magical thief’ is on my list of former job titles I’ve excelled at, it wasn’t too difficult for me to slip out without causing many more grumbles from my bed mates. Although John did try more than once in the time it took for me to get off the bed to reassert his grasp on my boobs and waist, culminating annoyingly in him getting a single solid squeeze of my butt in the process. It was a situation that, if I wasn’t pretty sure he was actually still asleep from his magic alone, I probably would have removed his hand from the rest of his body, thanks to the indignant little girly squeal it elicited from me in a purely involuntary reaction at the time.

“I’m impressed by your restraint.”

My head snapped up to glare at the unmistakably amused tone of Fena’s voice, only to stare at said Vampire, who has apparently spent a fair amount of time last night reading in a corner of the room judging by the pile of books next to her and the comfortable-looking chair she’s sitting in currently.

“How long have you been sitting there, Fena?”

…Ugh, it’s too early for this crap…

“I’m a vampire. Sleep’s not really my ‘thing’, unfortunately. Not that it was too much of an imposition this time, at least. I had to keep an eye on you, anyway, in case either you had a negative reaction to the frankly beyond lethal levels of alcohol in your blood or whatever runework was involved in making your new accessories last night decided to just up and explode.”

New accessories—now she mentions it, something does feel different at the moment.

My eyes followed hers down my body and jolted to a stop when I realized what they were seeing. Slowly, I brought my apparently black elbow-length glove-covered hands up to tentatively test each other before moving on to the sash around my waist, the waist-length hooded cloak draped over one shoulder, and the garter-like strips of cloth resting in evenly spaced intervals along my otherwise bare looking arms and legs. The slick black material they were all crafted from looked and felt familiar. It took me a few seconds to connect the dots and work out that these so-called ‘new accessories’ of mine had obviously been made from one of my safety suits, somehow. In a moment of mild panic my hand snapped up to my neck and with just a touch of magic I deactivated the invisibility glyphs on my current safety suit, which thankfully not only faded into existence perfectly beneath my nightgown and new accessories but also appeared to be completely unharmed as well.

“I have no idea what all of this stuff you’ve made is meant to do, but drunk-you seemed to be convinced they were all important and you gave one of them to me, even if you did mumble drunkenly afterwards to a point where I couldn’t quite grasp the ‘why’ behind the gift you were offering me so happily.”

As she said that dubious sounding statement, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a little black garter. It didn’t look dissimilar to the ones that are apparently attached to my safety suit somehow at the moment running up my arms but, that being said, it does seem a little more ornate than my own on the other hand. Drunk-me obviously made an effort to cut Fena’s garter in such a way that it looked ruffled around it edges and actually more garter-like than the more utilitarian loops of my armbands.

Oh boy, just how drunk did I get last night?
…Ask my hangover…

While the time in my Realm proved that I can create some crazily impressive things when I have ‘assistance’ in turning off that whole ‘logical and realistic’ side of my brain, it’s been a pretty long time since I’ve managed it using alcohol alone! In my late teens, as Al, I used to drink high-strength spirits to help my creative thinking when I got stuck on a project. After a while, Al just used to drink to forget, though, nothing else.

There’s definitely something to be said when it comes to applying ‘drunk logic’ to runecrafting, at least in theory, but it usually comes with the caveat that if you take it too far, you’ll end up waking up with no idea what monstrosity you’ve created or why until you have time to sit down and analyze the end result, effectively having to work backwards and retrace your own steps until things make sense again.

…We’re going to do more math now, aren’t we?…

Math, deductive reasoning, and probably some judicious applications of luck while eating breakfast! I’ll start with the garter in Fena’s hand because it’s not attached to me and therefore much easier to check out while eating at the same time, obviously.

…Just get coffee first, okay?…

Ooh, coffee! What an excellent idea!

======

“So obviously, I tried to create a feedback loop using the solar runes of my old suit’s fire protection system to nullify UV radiation, but that must have practically blown up in my face because the rune chain diverts wildly, here and here, in order to bleed off excess collected radiation as color and even more light, of all things. The really clever part of that idea, being that the light produced is above the visible spectrum but not harmful or UV, itself—so the brighter the sunlight involved, the stronger this garter’s defense will get as it throws out more and more ‘invisible’ light in order to vent the power involved in—”

A hand came up to gently cup over my mouth at lightning fast speed, making me pause mid-sentence in surprise as my eyes focused back on the real world again and the very real Fena currently smiling at me somewhat exasperatedly from her perch on the table next to my seat.

“You don’t need to get into the details for me, Han. You passed my knowledge of runes years ago and I’m pretty sure even Edith only pretended to understand half the concepts you explained to her in recent years, for her pride more than anything.”

Fena’s face twitched slightly, first into a pained frown at the reminder of Edith which I found myself mirroring as well, before pulling up into a befanged smile of honest amusement. The old memories brought up of happier times with my mentor nodding along authoritatively as I spent untold amounts of time just ranting to her over every little change or tweak that came to mind on my latest rune diagrams. A situation that, in retrospect, was both surprisingly common back when I was Al and probably pretty pointless aside from allowing me a chance to voice my theories, considering runes were never Edith’s best field to start with.

…Although experience helps, she knew a fair few shortcuts if nothing else…

Don’t get me wrong, Edith was good enough with runes for most situations! It all comes down to context at the end of the day. By most standard definitions, Edith and even Fena are amazingly advanced in runecrafting, but they aren’t Artificer-level good at it.

Technically, I would have classified myself—the old Al-me at least—as Artificer level when it came to runes. Maybe a rookie Artificer, due to a certain lack of real world exposure to runes in the wild in recent years but an Artificer all the same. Since my Awakening, though—since my Awakening, I’ve become something far more than that simple-sounding definition! Given a month of hard work, reams of math scribble-filled paper, and a fair bit of luck as well, I’m pretty sure Al-me could probably have created something magnificent, the sort of project that comes to redefine what people think of when they call someone a ‘Runemaster’, the sort of results that have become as mythical to the Normals as they have to us Mages over time, with just how unbelievably powerful the effects of actually using them would be. In comparison, since my Awakening, I pretty much only do the math out of habit and for my own reassurance anymore!

Al could get a mission spec, board a train to whatever state he would need to be in when the mission started, and by the time he got there, have a working draft for any new glyph patterns he may need, specifically for the mission at hand. That’s practically unheard of these days, thanks to the few people that haven’t outright given up on runes centuries ago all being pretty rusty in their applications, let alone their creation under such a tight deadline. On the other hand you have me now, the type of Artificer, if there is such a thing, who doesn’t just create art but masterpieces, the type who spends less time creating miracles while drunk than most supposed elite runecrafters would spend trying even to remember their own creations! All modesty aside, it’s kind of hard to stay humble over such things when practically everything you do these days seems to systematically break every rule you ever considered sacred when it comes to rune design in-bloody-general.

I may still be an Artificer by definition alone. I create, I craft, I take something mundane and through magic I make it better. That’s the very core definition of an Artificer, after all, and while you can refine that down to a Rune-Master—or Mistress, I guess—that’s a sub-division at best!

Technically, I’m more than just a Runemaster anyway. Even as Al, I tried to keep a direct hand in any facet of a project I was working on, with the rare exception for items made by Fena, specifically because I trust her work to such a high degree, usually. While I may have borrowed more than my fair share of Fena’s elemental rings and resonant rods as an Edith-approved shortcut to getting crap done over the years, I always made an effort not only to craft but to design, forge and source my own parts for everything whenever possible otherwise.

Alistor Cooper was a Runemaster. He was also at least journeyman level in everything from magical tailoring and blacksmithing, to gem carving and relic modification. Alistor Cooper was about as close as the world has ever come to having a jack-of-all-trades Artificer, even if he did only consider himself to be ‘okay’ at most of those niche fields he’d mastered over time.

Me? I’m something entirely different.

Al could drop enough jaws while fighting an insurgency of necromancers in an unfortunately rather public battle which was apparently so impressive that the notoriously American-hating Magical King of Canada would offer up his prettiest daughter to him within hours of his victory.

Meanwhile, I can literally recreate lost relics and actual myths out of thin air, on the fly! Back in my teens, even up to a few months before my Max-assisted Awakening, I could avidly read tales of supposedly level five and beyond magical artifacts, objects like the famed Excalibur, the Sword of Attila, Hrunting andNaegling, or even the Monkey King’s Ruyi Jingu Bang, all while happily wasting hours, trying to fathom how something that powerful could even exist, let alone somehow be created.

Now, I can think of at least five ways to make a Ruyi Jingu Bang of my own, just off the top of my head, and that’s not even including the improved versions I can envision, too! If I had the time and resources to hand, plus an actual reason to bother doing it, then I could probably create the single greatest weapon the world has ever seen without much more effort than it took for me to fashion my glasses back at the Farm all those months ago. It’s practically instinctive at this point.

I’m not sure if I should blame my Awakening, itself, the knowledge I stole from Arista, or something specific or different about my newly female brain as ‘Hannah’. But something has changed in me to a point that my passion in life has become something far more dangerous, a calling, of sorts. Hell, in my opinion, there isn’t even aword for what I am anymore! I’m the mage that can turn a simple pair of glasses into the ‘Holy Grail’ of any magic researcher, over breakfast, simply because I wanted to make them more interesting. I’m a mage whose first instinct when I lost my phone was first to enchant it and then to start designing a magical bloody satellite system, one which I completed because I was bored more than anything. I’m the mage who followed that achievement up by inventing a way to create food, water, and breathable air from literally nothing, just in case someday, I ever wanted to go hide in space for a while. I can think of several different reasons why none of that should even be possible, and yet it is, and even worse, I can see why it is as well!

John coined the phrase, and to a degree he’s still right, but I need to add a proviso to his point now anyway while I’m thinking about it all like this:

“If you’re powerful enough or instinctively smart enough, the rules don’t apply.”

I’ve not taken the time to sit back and really look at my work until now, but it’s true. While power has a hand in things in runecrafting, obviously, power can actually be a disadvantage to be worked around when you really get down to it, and I’ve definitely ‘gotten down to it’ lately. It isn’t power that’s helped me make these amazing items on the fly recently. It isn’t just knowledge stolen from Arista, either. It’s the perfect storm of everything that’s been going on in my life since my unwanted gender change. It’s everything coming together to push me enough to actually try at things properly for once.

To follow along with John’s initial point, while brawn and raw power can often achieve the seemingly impossible through sheer force of will alone, brains and a specifically twisted mindset can do just as much damage in the long-run! John can cast magic without his lines through sheer willpower; I can turn a napkin into a nuclear bomb without breaking a sweat. It’s two sides of the same coin, as always with us, and while I’d like to take solace in the thought that there is someone so nearby who’s on my unbelievably overpowered level, it simply wouldn’t be true because—because—
…Because even John or, Powers forbid, Arista is nothing when put up against a fully awakened Locus Point with a brain…
Exactly, it—

======

“Your breakfast is getting cold, Han.”

I jerked in surprise at Fena’s amused mutter and the gentle shoulder tap that came with it. I ended up staring at her blankly for a few seconds as I backtracked through my own internal debate far enough to work out where we last were, real world conversation wise.

“Sorry, Fena, I spaced out for a second there.”

She smirked at me knowingly but held off on commenting outright on my easily distracted nature, thankfully, even if it did kind of feel like she wanted to make a point of it while she can anyway.

“So, as I was saying before, if I’ve read this garter-thing right then drunk-me seems to have jury-rigged together a rather ingenious self-sustaining runeset that should protect the wearer from the Sun entirely and---”

Before I could continue my explanation Fena let off a squeal of joy and hopped off the table, only to scoop me up in her arms for a vampire-tight hug that left me breathless as she started a long stream of words that I think were intended to be some kind of thank you to me.

…Either that or a recipe for crispy duck in Cantonese…

“How do I turn it on, Han?”

She finally had the presence of mind to let me go at last, practically dropping me back on to my seat in her excited haste. For a moment or two I stared up at her pale skinned and befanged face in a daze but eventually the words formed up at last, spewing forth from my mouth almost without direct input from my still recovering brain:

“There are a few runes on the underside that detect when it’s in place over a set of lines, active or not, which tell the rest of the glyph patterns to turn ‘on’, essentially. There isn’t really an on or off switch itself but the moment you have it on your arm it should be working, in theory at least so---”

My breath hitched slightly at the truly beautiful smile that graced Fena’s face suddenly, fangs and all. For the first time in a few days it was painfully easy for me to see past all those telltale signs of her vampiric nature and see the sweet, innocently gentle girl underneath it that so deeply captured Al’s admittedly unknowing heart at first sight all those years ago in the darkened recesses of the shop.

I stalled out entirely watching her as she bounced on her bare toes with her long pale legs on display in the same cut-off jean shorts and an old band t-shirt combo she always used to wear while lazing about in the shop, her relaxed uniform of choice basically; with my eyes being drawn quickly back to her happy grin and those sparkling eyes that used to taunt Al so much when she was in a teasing mood.

…Sparkling with life…

My mouth opened to continue my explanation about how I intended to test the rune work out, now that I’m sober enough to consider such simple things as ‘testing’ something before handing it out, but Fena was apparently way ahead of me and with a dramatic hair-toss she yanked the garter up her right arm practically to her armpit and spun away from me. In seconds she’d broken into an outright sprint for the wide balcony doors at the far end of the suite I’d noticed but not really given much attention to yesterday with everything else going on. A weight dropped into my stomach as I realized just what she was planning to do and my chair flew away from me with a kick as I broke into a desperate sprint of my own in order to stop her.

“Fena!”

She spun, mid-sprint, to offer me a devilishly happy grin before breaking out into a joyful cackle reminiscent of Edith herself as she shoulder-barged her way through the apparently flimsy glass doors onto the unreasonably wide and unreasonably bright balcony beyond.

…Fena!…

She skidded slightly across the floor, in order to bleed off speed, and suddenly the world bleached out with light making my eyes squint shut in pain, even as I kept running towards her in desperation, the garter obviously not having worked right from the light’s intensity, if nothing else!

“FENA!”