Burn In Violet

04: The First Window

Chapter 4: The First Window

“Raising up something indoors without a window is difficult, but not entirely impossible. Think greenhouses.” – Emi

*

Holly pushed open the door marked ‘Workroom’. Inside, Emi was waiting for her.

It looked like what it was supposed to be, a laboratory, just instead of being a lab of science, it was a magical one. But the color scheme was wooden instead of white. Cupboards lined the walls; tables dominated much of the space while various contraptions, equipment, jars and containers were laid on almost every flat surface, leaving only narrow gaps for one to pass through.

“Ah, here, Holly,” Emi beckoned from behind a table. This time she had a navy blue apron.

With practiced caution, Holly navigated her way without knocking over anything. She followed her caretaker through an almost hidden door into another room resembling the first one except that it was more spacious.

“How about the list of books I asked you to read, Holly, did you finish them?” Emi asked, flitting between tables.

“Almost.”

Emi reached the corner of the room. A large machine that looked like a wooden photocopier with metal parts lied dormant. “Hmm, need more juice,” she mumbled. She then waved an arm. An assortment of ingredients flew towards her from various parts of the room, some of them flying in through the door, into her hands. She then deftly demonstrated her expertise, using gravity-defying magic to mix them together as if she was juggling and not trying to make a potion.

 “Smart Ink…” (a black glittering fluid poured out of an opaque glass bottle, forming a floating, shapeless mass) “Template Fluid,” (something like white plaster leaped out of a cauldron) “Control Rod,” (hopping out of a small box, they looked like metal toothpicks) “Purity Dust,” (it looked like powdered detergent). With a wave of Emi’s arm, they all came together into a shiny black sphere.

Holly knew what Emi was making. She just watched impassively as the sphere flew towards the photocopier-like machine, a panel opened on the machine and the sphere broke. The machine came to life, whirring and banging.

“So, Holly, how many books did you read out of four?” Emi asked, this time

“Almost four, in two days.”

“Can the Template Fluid be used to record magical data?”

“Yes, but in the case of neuro-magical data, it requires a very complex spell to pull off,” Holly answered without emotion.

Emi opened a box on the table. Taking out a metal mechanical bug with spindly legs the size of the palm of her hand, she produced a metal rod from her apron’s pocket. Each time she tapped on the bug with the rod, green sparks came to life. Not even looking up, she asked again, “How much magical energy does one need to consciously discern every atom in matter?”

“Something around one gigamana per gram of matter,” Holly answered immediately.

It was just a routine test. Emi would question her on the books she was asked to read. Meanwhile, the machine at the corner continued to whir and shake.

“Holly, can you pass me the Organol Reagent? It’s there in…”

“Cupboard 15,” Holly replied, instantly making her way towards said cupboard, leaving the room.

With a bang, a leather-bound book popped out of the machine at the corner.

Once upon a time, many people used to think of magic as a wonderful, delightful thing that could solve all problems and pose no troubles. Far from it, Holly thought. It’s as technical as algebra, and sometimes, just as boring.