Nearly there. He was nearly… there!
Even with the immense number of magical abilities known or unlocked by Wizards over millennia, teleportation was ever out of reach. Some theorized that the stable spell simply used too much magic, but magic storage had been a thing for at least centuries. Other Wizards vanished from the annals of history, perhaps teleporting with no way to return. In this, Heath intended to bypass the problem entirely. He wasn’t working on a teleportation spell. Rather, it was a magical gateway that would remain open so long as he didn’t will it to shut.
Technically speaking, spells didn’t require a stable anchor. You could show scrying with an illusion hovering in the air. But it was so much easier if you tied it to a metal board, and it could run by itself for so much longer. You could even set things up so the magic source would draw on other items before yourself. And so Heath’s portal-to-be would be anchored to an iron ring that was bolted to a metal wall. And it would be woven with instructions to use environmental and stored magic before it ever got to himself.
It was the middle of the night when the spell finally stabilized. Being honest with himself, Heath was ready to go to bed. But he was prepared, so he could at least create the gateway now and explore in the morning. Besides, that would verify whether it could actually stay open like he wanted. Standing in front of his anchor, he focused, cast the spell, and… was greeted by a wall of stone in the circle.
That was fair, Heath reasoned. At least it hadn’t killed him by opening in a volcano or something like that. As much work as he’d put into his spell, he had no idea how to actually aim it, so a gateway from his basement into something that looked like the rock on the other side of the wall was just fine in his book. He could work on moving the other end a little higher in the morning.
He never noticed the magical aura from the exposed minerals, nor how his portal readily pulled it into the room.
Lily’s whole family was magically inert. It’s not that they couldn’t use magic of any kind, really: it’s more like they had a magic of their own that just canceled everyone else’s. Touching them caused spell failure, and even trying to aim anything their way was difficult, not that successful aiming resulted in any effect to them. This fact made her father perfect for beast hunting, a task that paid well but unfortunately meant he was out of town more often than he was in it.
Now, being inert was great if you wanted to win fights against magical creatures, but it wasn’t so great if you wanted to be one. Humans could use magic, of course, but it was way easier for others. Sure, it was a tidy sum to make the change, but it wasn’t like Lily’s family couldn’t afford it. It was just totally impossible for her. Not that the limits of reality curbed the middle schooler’s dreams.
Being unable to experience a thing for herself, Lily contented her curiosity by studying, dreaming and daydreaming about it. The most recent object of her obsessions was the upright fox family that moved in down the street. What must it feel like to have that fluffy orange and white fur, those blunt claws, that puffy tail? The daydream consumed her as she stood at the bust stop in front of Crazy Heath’s house. Inert as she was, there was no way she could detect the wellspring of foreign magic that poured out his front door, and no Wizard close or awake enough to see it recolor upon reaching her. And while her vulpine neighbor might have noticed the new energy surging within him, he simply thought he had finally shaken off the last dregs of sleep.
It was very late morning—almost noon, really—when Heath finally awoke, and his back was killing him. “So much for moving the gateway,” he thought aloud as he rolled out of bed, massaging his ankles before standing. He used the bathroom, washed his face and started absentmindedly combing his tail with his fingers before it occurred to him that something was off.
Where did the tail come from?
Last Heath had checked, he was a human. He’d always been a human, right? But his muscle memory said “upright fox” and he couldn’t remember what else he might’ve looked like. He brushed his teeth and moved downstairs, and it was then that he noticed his whole home was glowing.
It was a subtle glow, not the intense one he remembered for active magic. No, this was more like unused environmental magic. There usually wasn’t a lot around him, because being a Wizard meant he used it all the time for his spells. That, and like all magical creatures, he absorbed—no. Human, correct? But he couldn’t deny that he was absorbing the magic as he stood in his kitchen. And it just felt right.
Well, he couldn’t get anything done if he couldn’t focus, so he decided to just finish his morning routine. Once that was out of the way, he headed back into his basement, then turned to stare at the open gateway, still showing the wall of rock. Wasn’t he supposed to be doing something…? Oh, right, today was grocery day.
Kyle had never really been a popular kid, but as a magical creature, he did stand out. Magical creatures were everywhere, yes, but it was only something like one in a hundred at best. The chances of him finding another upright fox in the same town were slim, let alone one the same age as himself. At least his girlfriend didn’t seem to care that they were currently physically incompatible; maybe she was saving up for the change. However, he could almost swear that Anna just liked him because he was fluffy.
“Kyle!” Anna exclaimed as he got off the bus. She was always the one who woke him up the rest of the way in the morning, rushing headlong to bury her face in his exposed shoulder’s fur.
“Good morning to you, too,” he said with a smile, ruffling her hair.
She stood up a little without really making her face visible. “You’re more alert than usual. Did you sleep well?”
“Well enough,” Kyle replied with a forced yawn.
She pulled away just in time to see it and replied with a yawn of her own, snout parting to show her perfectly-kept sharp teeth. It occurred to Kyle that something was strange about that scene, but a moment later he forgot the sensation and turned her around. “Let’s go, fellow sleepyhead.”
“Yes, sir.” Their tails intertwined as they walked inside the school.
If you were a Wizard, almost every field was open to you… if you could pass their tests. Asking Lewis why he was a bodyguard would not net you an honest answer, if he gave one at all. The truth was that he flunked out of police academy. Bodyguarding was the next best thing, and it paid about the same anyway.
If you wanted a smart Wizard, you could go chat with Heath. He was eccentric, but he knew his stuff. Lewis didn’t like to stew in jealousy, but his client lived in the same neighborhood, so he usually had to pass by Heath’s house anyway. And today, that house was glowing.
Now, Lewis wasn’t Heath smart, but he wasn’t stupid, either. Lewis smarts said approaching a building with that much magic power made you likely to get hurt in the upcoming explosion. Except… the magic wasn’t stored. That wasn’t a house-battery. That was a house-fountain. Somehow the man had managed to invert the usual magic levels in his area, and it was spilling over like breaking the bottom out of an hourglass. The house itself wasn’t glowing: it was just sitting in the middle of an area so flush with magic that it made Lewis’s fur stand on end.
Fur?
He shook his head. Of course a fox has fur. Something was weird about the glowing house, but Lewis had to get going so he could do his job.
Unfortunately, even their very first classes split the fox pair apart. However, it wasn’t like either of them didn’t have friends, even Kyle. “Hey,” Frank simply greeted his buddy with a light arm punch.
“Hey, yourself. How’d it go with Sam yesterday?”
Frank shrugged, and Kyle already knew the next words from his mouth. “Eh, she’ll come around.” Frank started picking at his claws. That guy had loads of confidence, but couldn’t ever hook any girl.
“Earth to fox twins,” Marcus said behind them while snapping his fingers. “Class is starting.”
Frank gave him a punch, too. “Ayy, we’re not twins. You know that.” He pulled back and regarded his friends. “Although, if you worked out more, you might match Kyle. You’ve got close faces.”
“Class!” Marcus barked.
While Anna wasn’t popular, either, she had always been the envy of her peers. Her smooth fur was so soft, and friends had said her tail was like getting to carry a plush everywhere. It did have its inconveniences: cleaning mud off after a storm must be a lot easier without fur. But she also had an easier time with magic, so using a cleaning wand definitely helped in that department. It couldn’t clear away everything, but the big stuff didn’t stick.
Today, however, was a sunny and warm day, and while she wasn’t as puffy in her summer coat, she was still a cuddle magnet. “You know, you will need to back off eventually,” she teased Sharon.
“I’ll wait for the bell. Your fur is so warm.”
“You could be warm, too, if you just stood in the sun a little longer in the morning.”
“I like to sleep, sorry.”
“So does Kyle, I guess. Do I just attract sleepyheads?”
“Mmm. Maybe.”
The bell rang, startling Sharon away. The girl decided to hug her own tail instead of moving back in. “That good enough for today?” Anna said with a giggle.
“Mmm. Maybe.”
Even with the advantage of being magically inert, beast hunting was a tough job. Time not on the road was spent looking for listings, prepping gear, and keeping in shape. Today was a gear prep day, and Lily’s father was in his office with his bag and the next hunt’s outline.
The window to the office faced the street outside, and the street was seeing a strange amount of traffic today. Art poked his head out of the window; looking both ways, there was a bit of a crowd by Heath’s house. As “crazy” as even Lily knew him, Heath wasn’t a bad guy. He didn’t even make any beasts. So why were there cop cars on the street?
From his glance outside, it was pretty clear that whatever was going on was a magic thing. Art consulted for the police on occasion, so he decided to head down. Leaving his gear behind, he strolled up to the uniformed fox. “What seems to be the problem, officer?”
“I’m… not sure,” the cop replied, looking obviously befuddled.
Something was going on. However, neither of them could see magic, just its effects. “Is Heath here?”
“He hasn’t responded and I don’t have a warrant.”
“It might be best if you and your buddies clear out the crowd while you’re waiting.” For the numbers, this was probably every upright fox in town. Why were they all here?
“You’re probably right.” The cop returned to the parked cars while Art looked back at the house.
“What are you doing in there, Heath?” he asked aloud, swishing his tail.
Unaware of the police presence at his home, Heath was simply doing normal grocery shopping. Normal for an upright fox, anyway, which meant high protein, low carbs. Magical creatures didn’t need the calories.
At first, it felt a little odd to Heath that everyone he greeted was also an upright fox. What a coincidence, right? But as he continued, he wondered how he’d forgotten that this town had the highest concentration of upright foxes in the region. He’d bought the home sitting on the magic fountain for a reason. Not only was it great for his research as a Wizard, but it filled him with energy. All the other foxes had to make do with the leftovers, or whatever other sources they could find or make. Of course, being so full all the time, Heath was also something of a source. But it was rude to hang around someone just for that reason.
Between being inert to others’ magic and being a magical creature himself, Art had seemingly won the genetic lottery for a beast hunter. He’d had contracts all over the region and was almost never short on work. Today was yet another work trip, taking him to a large city with a Wizard that had gotten a little too reckless.
“What spells did you add?” Art asked the nervous fox before him.
“Nothing much,” the Wizard answered, ears twitching nervously. “Just some toughness and strength.”
“To a grizzly!?” Art’s tail swished.
“… Yes.”
Amazing. Art sighed. “Fine. You know my fee. Have it ready.”
“Thank you.”
Art never found out why those cops had visited his neighbor’s house, but Heath must’ve done some exotic experiment or other. Probability manipulation, maybe? Because since that day, every person Art met was an upright fox, and he knew his schooling had reported a lower ratio than that. Then again, a single-species town was bound to have at least a few more of its own in the surrounding areas. But this was still crazy odds.
Back home, Lily sat on her bed, grooming her tail’s luscious brown and white fur with her well-manicured claws. She loved being a fox.
In the course of writing the last series, I managed to get far ahead of my posting schedule. Finally. During that period of time, I decided to start allowing requests or commissions for my writing, and the first request was for something I couldn’t allow in the setting for which it was requested. However, it gave me the idea for this story: “What if the portal from World of Chaos to Twin Dragons instead went to somewhere a little more hostile?” (I can’t allow things like this story to happen to Emilie or her world, so you might notice that the setting used here is similar to but not quite the same as World of Chaos. Lily is the local equivalent of Emilie.)
While one could argue that the magic here is not exactly hostile, it’s certainly a symbiote at best. (I thought of it as “wish-granting magic” just taken to extremes.) To compare with nature, it’s more like an invasive parasite. Even though the magic is technically upgrading the hosts, it’s not giving them a choice in the matter. Rather, this is my second horror story on Substack, though horror in a different manner altogether.
Ah, getting ahead of schedule does feel good, doesn't it? I'm about three months ahead--which is as far ahead as one can schedule.