One Step Forward
Early Morning
SMS Berlun Medical Bay
Waters of the Osfjord, Entente Alliance
It was a good day to be an Imperial mage, Second Lieutenant Viktoriya Serebryakov thought to herself as she strolled towards the ship’s medical bay. Yesterday had been an overwhelming victory in the Empire’s favor, and soon the army would crush the Entente Alliance from both sides. One half of the war was basically over at this point.
She just needed to tell the Major the good news. Assuming she was awake, that is.
“Good morning Major.” The Lieutenant stepped inside and looked around. She did a double take at what greeted her. “Major!”
“Hm?” Tanya looked up from the computation orb in her hand. From where Visha was standing, it looked like the Type 95, which was concerning in and of itself, but truthfully right now she was far more concerned about the noticeable bags under her Commander’s eyes. “Oh, Lieutenant Serebryakov. Good morning.”
“Major, I…” Visha shook her head. “You don’t look great. At all.”
“Well, I don’t feel great, oddly enough. My burns seem to have mostly healed, yet I feel like a spent bullet casing.” The Major made to continue, before being interrupted by a yawn. “Not… exactly sure why that is. My head’s a bit fuzzy right now.”
Visha walked over, grabbing a chair to set next to Tanya’s cot.
“Hey, Major. Quick question. Consider it a game, even.” She placed the chair down and sat.
Tanya blinked. That was a bit abrupt. “Yeah, okay. Shoot.”
“Truth or dare.”
“Huh?” Again, odd. Still, she had agreed. Might as well humor her adjutant.
The Major thought for a moment. Or, tried thinking. Her brain currently felt a bit closer to jelly than brain. She answered with a shrug. “Truth, I guess.”
“How much sleep did you get last night.”
That was more of a statement than a question. Some deep, instinctual level of Tanya’s brain finally seemed to register the danger she was in. Much too late, she noticed the blatant false happiness in her adjutant’s tone.
Tanya pointedly avoided Visha’s gaze.
“Ah, I meant dare, actually. My mistake.” She coughed, attempting to stifle another yawn.
Visha gave her an unamused look. “Go to sleep.”
“…I don’t like this game.”
“And I don’t like you refusing to rest after passing out from mana exhaustion and ending up needing medical treatment. Again!”
This was actually only the third time Tanya had needed medical attention for mana exhaustion, and the first two were back during her Cadet days. So, if you ignored the Cadet Corps, this was the first time this specifically had happened.
She had experienced mana exhaustion other times as well; she just hadn’t seen the need to report to medical for them. They weren’t that bad. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but she was strong and stubborn and hadn’t felt the need to bother the already overworked medical staff over a problem that would fix itself after a good night’s rest.
…Which probably wasn’t the healthiest mentality for a soldier to have now that she thought about it. Ah but, she was careful enough. Surely it wouldn’t backfire on her at any point.
For the barest hint of a second, Tanya thought about mentioning these things to her adjutant. Luckily, she managed to display her occasionally absent survival instinct, realizing it would be far worse for her health if she did mention any of those things. Visha would probably take the pillow from beneath her head and smother her with it.
Actually, that was kind of hot-
Not now!
Her adjutant was clearly upset with her and was now waiting for a response that fit into categories such as “stellar”, “nuanced”, and “worry alleviating”. At the very least. Tanya settled for what seemed like a safe answer.
“…I’m sorry?” Internally, Tanya winced. That wasn’t supposed to sound like a question. Visha clearly agreed, as her only response was an unamused raising of her eyebrow.
“I’m sorry for not resting.” Tanya tried again, her statement firm this time. “I just… woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep.”
She didn’t want to explain more than that. Thankfully, Visha seemed to understand what she meant well enough. Nightmares were an unfortunately common occurrence among soldiers on the frontlines. At least, that’s what Visha thought it was, and Tanya would allow her to believe that partially accurate impression.
Visha sighed. “I understand. Just try to get some rest, okay Major?”
“Sure thing.” The Argent blinked. “Uh, just to make sure, you only upset about the lack of rest, right? Not about me using the Type 95 at the Osfjord?”
Even if it was on accident.
“Why would I be mad?” Visha asked, an amused smile on her face. “You promised to use it in emergencies only. I’m pretty sure that counts as an emergency. Just try not to take it too far next time, okay?”
An angel… I have an angel for an adjutant! Thank you for being so reasonable!
Why had Tanya been even worried? Her adjutant was a very reasonable person. Of course, she’d be able to recognize that shitshow of a situation as necessary for Type 95 usage. Even though said usage was entirely on accident, and she had no idea how said accident occurred.
“I’ll be more careful.” Tanya promised earnestly.
“That’s all I ask.”
“Don’t worry.” The Major smiled tiredly, “As long as you’re watching my back, I won’t have to go overboard. That’s what partners should do, yeah?”
Clearly, Tanya was still out of it with exhaustion. This level of emotional vulnerability was uncommon. It was a little embarrassing, because it reminded Visha of the secret she had yet to tell her superior. She had the chance right now, in fact. The chance to tell Tanya…
Visha averted her gaze, her cheeks growing slightly warm as she attempted to focus on anything that wasn’t her superior’s face. She couldn’t do it! No way, no way. What if Tanya thought it was weird? What if Tanya though she was weird?
Instead, she ended up telling the Major something else. Anything to ignore her embarrassment.
“Really though, I’m a little disappointed. Not in you, of course!” Apparently, Visha found disappointment easier to discuss than romance. She bit her bottom lip. “I’m disappointed in myself. Maybe we could have avoided all of this if I had been better out there. If I had noticed the enemy mages were up to something…”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“Huh?!” Visha looked up incredulously.
“In case you don’t recall, it wasn’t just you out there. It’s not that you weren’t good enough. It’s that we weren’t good enough. I already told you, Lieutenant; we’re partners.” Tanya’s expression changed then, her mouth shifting from a serious line to a tired smirk. She shrugged, “By that logic, we both need to improve. Refuse to make the same mistakes. This is war after all. Learning from our mistakes: that’s the only way to survive, right? So, let’s get better and survive this war. I’ll watch your back and you watch mine. As it should be.”
Happy tears glistened at the corners of Visha’s eyes.
“Yeah.”
Whatever they did going forward, they’d do it together.
-=-=-=-
One Week Later, Very Early Morning
Training Courtyard, 7th Imperial Army Base
Norden Peninsula, Empire
Now, technically, Tanya hadn’t lied to her adjutant. She used this fact to justify her actions, as the silent darkness of pre-dawn greeted and judged her. Which it had no right to do. Damn overly judgmental morning darkness. She was being very careful after all, and in her opinion, this absolutely constituted an emergency. Not a life-threatening emergency, but an emergency, nonetheless.
The Type 95 was a great computation orb. Technically speaking, it was the best computation orb. In terms of active spell usage (i.e., the number of simultaneous spells manageable), mana output, and the unprecedented ability to store mana like battery for future use, no other orb in the world even came close. Even the Type 97, another marvel of engineering and the second-best computation orb in the world, was at its best half the orb the Type 95 was. Two cores versus four cores. The winner was obvious.
Except, the “technically” was crucial to note here. The Type 95 was a one-of-a-kind device. Before Tanya, hardly anyone had been able to get off the ground with the thing, much less use it for its intended purpose as a bringer of death to the Empire’s enemies. Doctor Schugel had mentioned little of the previous subjects, far more concerned with the only successful test subject. In other words, her. Tanya von Degurechaff.
She’d heard, at most, whispers from the Doctor’s team when they thought she wasn’t around. Most of the previous test subjects could not get the Type 95 to even start up. The ones that did were few and far between, and apparently, they had all experienced immediate detrimental side effects. Just like the ones she dealt with, except on a more extreme level.
Headaches, nosebleeds, muscle strain, all cranked up to the max level of unfortunate.
No mention of nightmares or the like, however. Tanya was pretty sure she’d have heard at least the barest hint of a humor from one of the Schugel’s technicians had one of the previous subjects started spouting about “visions of devastation” and whatnot. No, it seemed like the psychological stress of visionary nightmares and the feud with a metaphysical Being claiming deity status was her own unique problem to deal with.
Lucky her.
Now, judging from the side effects that didn’t involve the metaphysical, the other subjects just weren’t compatible with the Type 95. In fact, Doctor Schugel had said as much. The synchronization between the Type 95 computation orb and the previous test subjects’ internal mana had all been far below subpar. The highest synchronization level prior to Tanya’s arrival had been a measly 10%. Tanya’s very first test of the orb had netted a synchronization level of 58.7%. After two more days of on-off testing, it had reached an even 60%.
It probably would have gone higher; had she not been called to the Rhine front the very nanosecond the Head Brass saw that there was a mage who could even marginally use Doctor’s Schugel’s “revolutionary” four core computation orb. Which was a shame, really. Had they been able to test her further, they might have been able to figure out a solution to the already mentioned side effects. The worst she’d gotten during her three-ish days of testing and practice was a minor headache, which she’d attributed at the time to a bad night’s sleep.
She knew better now. The Type 95 was the cause. And it was the cause of many more bad night’s sleep going forward. The second she’d noticed the increase in, well, everything shitty about the Type 95, a letter was sent off to Doctor Schugel detailing the orb’s effects.
As far as she could tell, her high synchronization level allowed her to use the Type 95 at a high level. However, the massive mana requirement and the strain of using four cores simultaneously, shall we say, “built up” over a time. It was like an old dam. Sure, it held water, and you could fill up the lake behind it. But it had cracks and holes and leaked in spots.
After the dam was filled to a certain point, detrimental effects would begin to occur. Headaches, nosebleeds. Muscle strain could occur too if reinforcement or other physically enhancing spells were cast using the Type 95. Tanya’s frankly absurd mana efficiency, her youth, and her flexible mentality made the Type 95 possible to use. The time it took for the metaphorical dam to fill was a testament to this. Eventually though, it started leaking. If it were pushed far enough, the dam even had the potential to break entirely. To shatter under the stress.
What would happen then? Tanya didn’t want to find out.
Unfortunately, the Doctor couldn’t exactly recall her for more testing or, god forbid, her own safety. She was far to useful on the frontlines, and it wasn’t like the Type 95 was killing her or anything. What was a little more psychological trauma in a frontlines soldier? She could handle it, right? After all, wasn’t she the White Silver?
Sometimes she hated her superiors.
The only bright side was that her synchronization level had the potential to increase over time. During testing she’d gone from 58.7% to 60%, after all. It was a small consolation though, as to raise these levels her mind and body would have to adjust even more to the Type 95. And that required using the Type 95 more. A lot more. And that meant dealing with even more mental, physical, metaphysical, and psychological strain.
But back at the Osfjord, she’d managed to use the Type 95 without detrimental effects. Given how much mana she’d used to fend off the enemy’s combined optical spell, she’d have expected a headache at the very least. But there was nothing. Not even a faint pang behind the bridge of her nose, that she could recall.
This was huge for obvious reasons. Up to this point, she’d only been able to use the Type 95 without danger up to a certain threshold. It didn’t help that this threshold was subject to change based on a variety of factors – including but not limited to, exhaustion, prior mana usage, the food she had eaten that morning, mental state –, surprisingly easy to reach, and not a hard limit, which meant she could easily pass the threshold and not realize it until it was too late.
And, if reducing or outright eliminating negative side effects like headaches and nosebleeds was possible, perhaps it would also make her – nightmares, visions – mental corruption dissipate. She’d love to go a whole week without her sleep getting interrupted.
As such, figuring out how to use the Type 95 without the usual strain had become of tantamount importance. Thus, it was an emergency.
Naturally, it wasn’t that simple.
The problem was, trying to do replicate something you did on accident, with no knowledge of how you did it, is practically impossible. Tanya had found this out very quickly the first morning after she’d been discharged from medical care. Zero progress had been made. As in, zilch. Nada.
She’d ended up doing target practice for about an hour using her Type 97. Which, while productive, was not the progress she had intended to make.
The next day, she’d gone out again. With the same results. Then the next day she’d gone out, and then the next… well, it had been a week now, and she had nothing to show for it other than a slightly improved efficiency with piercing and heating spells.
And that was really the kicker to this whole scenario. She’d been freezing her ass off for the past week for basically nothing. It was just past 5 in the morning, in an area near the coastline, in winter, in Norden. The only reason she could stand to be out here at this time was thanks to her rapidly improving heating spells through the Type 97. At least she was improving something.
Why so early? No particular reason. Tanya liked being up early. It meant a more productive start to the day. The fact that she had taken to practicing her technique a minimum of an hour before even her most diligent subordinates woke up meant absolutely nothing. She wasn’t scared. She didn’t worry about how disappointed Lieutenant Serebryakov might be if she found out. How dare you accuse her of such a thing.
The worst part of it all might have been waking up the past week without the help of her adjutant’s delicious coffee. Though, she could now state for certain that walking outside in the early morning winter of coastal Norden was an even quicker way to reach full alertness when waking up. Caffeine had nothing on that frozen ocean breeze.
It didn’t help that the training courtyard’s short walls did absolutely jack shit to stop it. And it was snowing, as a sort of freezing cherry on top of a shitty situation sundae.
At this point, Tanya was sitting in front of a wall. No, not the courtyard wall. A metaphorical one. She’d not been able to mimic the effects of whatever had occurred at the Osfjord. Not even a little bit. There was just some crucial piece of information missing. It was infuriating, if she was being completely honest.
All she really had to go on was a description from Lieutenant Serebryakov. Her adjutant had mentioned that her eyes were glowing two different colors. One gold, like when she used the Type 95, and one blue, like when using the Type 97.
Well, that was all fine and dandy, but how was she supposed to replicate that? Obviously, she needed to use the Type 95. Her eyes only glowed golden when using the device. But one eye? Tanya was almost reluctant to try at all with how little she understood about the whole thing. And while figuring out how to safely use the Type 95 was justifiable, so was her reluctance to practice using the Type 95 safely.
For one thing, practicing with the Type 95 without a clear goal in mind might as well be asking for a bloody nose and migraine combo. That much was obvious. For another, it was absolutely, positively, fucking freezing cold out. With the Type 97 running a constant heating spell, this was not a real problem. But to use the Type 95 she’d need to turn off the Type 97, and subsequently her source of heat. Using a constant, body encompassing spell with the Type 95 was out of the question, as the strain would build up much quicker than she’d like should she use other spells in tandem. So, she’d effectively be practicing with only the residual warmth inside her coat, which never lasted.
If only there were a simple solution to her problem. That would make her life so much easier. Practicing inside wasn’t really an option. The facility her battalion was housed in at the moment lacked an indoor training area. Plus, she would risk waking her subordinates.
If only she could keep the heating spell active with the Type 97 while she also practiced with the Type 95. But, that was ridiculous. It’s not like she could use both computation orbs at the same time-
Tanya blinked, her warm breath decorating the cold morning air in foggy spurts.
…There’s no way it’s that simple, right? Tanya pulled her gloved hands from her coat pockets, the left and right grasping the Type 95 and Type 97 respectively. It couldn’t be that simple. When has anything in my life had such a simple solution. There’s just no way.
Lieutenant Serebryakov’s description crossed her mind again. One gold eye, one blue eye.
Well, in for a penny.
Tanya looked closely at both orbs. The Type 97 was already active, the gears in inside whirring silently as her heating spell remained active. The Type 95 was inactive, though it wouldn’t be for long if this went right. She focused on the four-core orb, attempting to run her mana through it and cast a flight spell.
Her feet slowly lifted off the ground, and the Type 97 shut off, taking its warmth with it. Tanya quickly glanced over at a nearby window. Both her eyes were glowing a bright gold.
“Fuck.” She whispered as the cold rushed in. The Major quickly flipped her focus, reactivating her heating spell and shutting down the flight spell. As her feet touched back down, she reevaluated her strategy.
She was right, it really wouldn’t be that simple.
Maybe timing was the issue?
Tanya tried again. This time, she paid close attention to the spells themselves, attempting to cast them simultaneously the same way she would with either orb alone.
Her results were the same. A loss of warmth and a gain of two glowing golden eyes. Tanya took a moment to mentally thank General Zettour and the Service Corps for the heavy duty coats her battalion had been able to obtain.
So, it wasn’t timing. At least, not entirely. Something else then. Tanya thought hard.
…Was she going about this the wrong way? Technically, she was just holding a total of six computation cores in separate hands. Mentality was a huge part of magic casting as well and thinking outside the box was often the difference between an alive mage and a dead one. Treating the devices as individual cores rather than separate orbs might make all the difference.
It was better than her only other idea at the moment. Somehow, she didn’t think flipping which hand held what orb would change anything significant. That one would stay as a last resort.
A new idea in mind, Tanya made a third attempt. And, for a third time, she failed to use both orbs simultaneously.
A lesser, weaker-willed being might have given up at this point, but Tanya was nothing if not stubbornly determined. She hadn’t become one of the War College’s Twelve Knights by giving up after being stuck in the thirteenth spot for most of the semester. She’d pushed through then, and she’d push through now.
Luckily, something had been different about the third attempt. Or rather, Tanya had noticed what she’d been missing. Probably. Hopefully. She had to make sure first.
Last resort it is.
Tanya looked at her hands and sighed, before swapping the hands each computation orb was held in. Her eyes unfocused as she made a fourth attempt with the knowledge that it would fail.
See, this time the Argent wasn’t looking for success, she was looking for-
Ahah! A triumphant grin crossed her face. That’s it.
-her mana flow. As a Cadet and eventual aerial mage of the Empire, Tanya had been trained using a single computation orb. She had always used one computation orb, throughout her training. Even when she’d gotten a hold of both the Type 95 and Type 97, they had only ever been used individually.
Get it? All of Tanya experience as a mage involved the use of one computation orb. In other words, she’d been trained to instinctually operate a single orb. Her mana naturally flowed into either the Type 97 or the Type 95, but never both at the once, because her formative years with mana usage had unintentionally drilled that single orb style of operation into her subconscious.
Switching hands had only proved her hypothesis. This time, Tanya had been focused internally, attempting to feel the difference rather than see it. The flow of mana deviated into the Type 97 for her heating spell, then that same flow switched from one hand and one orb to the respective other.
If she’d wanted to use both at the same time, she needed multiple deviations in her mana flow, when this whole time she’d just been switching the one deviation from orb to orb. Of course, actually doing that was easier said than done.
She knew the theoretical now, but putting it into practice would be a different beast entirely.
No time like the present, I suppose.
Tanya focused on her mana again, viewing in her mind’s eye the energy as it flowed from her hand to the Type 97. It took a few moments – seconds, minutes, Tanya couldn’t quite tell. Visualizing a largely internal energy source was a surprisingly difficult task.
See, mana typically flowed throughout the whole of a mage’s body. It was sort of like an ocean. Mages pulled their mana from this ocean instinctually to be shaped through formulae. Computation orbs made the process even easier, which wasn’t really a bad thing. Older methods of channeling mana were primitive and inefficient at best.
And, really, channeling mana through an object rather than the mage themselves was common sense. If you fucked up a magic formula, would you rather your computation orb or rifle explode, or your hand? The choice was obvious.
There was something to be said about modern equipment affecting the instinctual and natural relationship between a mage and their mana under the lens of increased efficiency, but that was an argument nearly a century down the line. Technology wasn’t nearly advanced enough for that particular discussion.
For now, the issue was simply in mages taking for granted just how easy it was to cast magic using computation orbs. A fact which was becoming blatantly obvious to the young Major at this very moment. She could see the water of her internal ocean as clear as if she were on a Francois beach, but the flow and the currents were largely unfamiliar and invisible to the untrained eye.
That being said, this was Tanya von Degurechaff we’re talking about. 16 she may be, but she was also the White Silver and an Ace of Aces. She was anything but untrained, especially in the ways in mana and magic.
She delved deeper, mentally cataloguing the way her mana seemed to ebb and flow through her body. Idly, she noted the relative calmness of her mana. Most likely this was because of her, to quote Doctor Schugel, “frankly absurd level of mana efficiency”.
An efficient flow leaves few waves in its wake. Obvious in retrospect.
That was good. It made finding deviations in her flow that much easier.
All the while, she kept her heating spell active. There should be a noticeable deviation going into the Type 97, and once she had grasped exactly how it was deviating, she should (potentially) be able to recreate that deviation without disturbing the original.
Ah, there you are.
Exactly where she expected. A current of mana within the ocean, traveling through her arm and hand. Earlier, the deviated flow had been barely noticeable, obscured by the waves of her mana “ocean”. Once she knew what to look for however, it was obvious.
Tanya directed her full attention on that specific deviating current, getting a feel for its connection to the ocean around it. There wasn’t a specific way to describe the feeling.
If she had to give specifics, the mana flow could perhaps be compared to… a SWOOSH, or possibly a FSSHHH or even a RUSSHHH.
…Maybe she wasn’t the best person to describe abstract feelings. It felt like what it was: a flow of energy. There weren’t many other ways she could describe it than that.
Tanya breathed in deeply, letting the frozen air rest inside her chest and chill her lungs – before deliberately exhaling a cloud of fog half the size of her head. Not that she noticed, her eyes remaining shut in deep concentration.
She knew the feeling of the deviation… now she just had to recreate it. She kept her mind on the flow going into the Type 97. With a firm mental grip on her mana, she tried to recreate that same feeling, whilst at the same time maintaining the original flow.
Instantly, the original flow attempted to switch sides. Tanya forced it back into the Type 97, before quickly taking another breath and redoubling her efforts. This was possible. She’d done it before on accident. Doing it on purpose should be a cinch.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, a second flow built up in her opposite arm. It was harder to grasp than the original flow. Much harder. Her ingrained mana habits seemed to be fighting against her here.
Tanya grits her teeth at the sensation. She would not be dissuaded. This was her mana, her ocean. Mentally grasping tight to the second deviation, Tanya pushed it upwards, through her arm and hand and into the Type 95. She held it there forcibly, keeping a strong mental grip on the two separate mana currents.
It sounded almost easy on paper, but this was beyond exhausting. It required heavy mana usage, draining her mana. It required immense concentration, draining her mentally.
But, as Tanya carefully opened her eyes, she felt the warmth from her heating spell. She felt her feet leaving the ground. And when she glanced over at the window from earlier, two separately colored eyes stared back at her.
One glowing blue, and one glowing gold.
I- I did it. I did it-!
With that, her concentration broke, sending her falling to the cold, unforgiving ground below. The brilliant White Silver landed in an entirely ungraceful manner, tripping over her own feet, and slipping backwards ass-first onto the freezing dirt.
Tanya sat there for a moment in stunned silence, then let out a startled laugh as the whole situation caught up to her.
I did it. It’s far from ready for combat. I can deal with the high mana requirement, but the concentration required makes it too slow. For now. The mana requirement might be solvable using the mana I’ve already stored in the Type 95, and I can improve my concentration and the handling of my mana over time. She got her feet underneath her and stood, brushing snow off her pants. I might be able to use it soon in a shorter fight, or an ambush with prep time. And I’ll still have to be cautious of overuse of the Type 95.
By splitting her spells between the two computation orbs, she was basically splitting the total amount of mana for each orb in half. To clarify, the spells were the same strength. It was just that she’d normally be casting multiple formulae with one orb, when with this technique she’d be casting those same formulae through separate orbs.
It would be even more difficult than it sounded, as she would have to do this in active combat scenarios. That could come later though. For now, all that mattered was that she had effectively doubled the amount of time she could use the Type 95 by halving the total mana that went through it, and therefore halving the negative side effects. A solution that never would have been possible when using the device by itself, as halving her mana in a single orb scenario was halving her effectiveness on the battlefield.
Tanya checked her new pocket watch, which had been an early Christmas gift from her former classmate Maximillian Ugar.
Hm, I have just enough time for another go. She paused as something else crossed her mind. Should I name it?
Her inner maturity and inner child warred with each other for a moment. The child won.
Yeah I should totally name it. Let’s see. The Major adopted a thinking pose, with her hands on her hips and her face pointing to the ground in contemplation. She tapped her foot absentmindedly. It uses two computation orbs to work. And six cores total. Hexagons have six sides. “Hex Core Art”? No, that’s ridiculous. Hex is such an odd word to just add randomly, and “hexagon” doesn’t have to right ring to it at all. “Double Orb Style”? Hm, it’s more of a technique than a style though…
Tanya furrowed her brow. She shook her head.
Yeah, no. Hmm. Double. Duplex. Duple. Dual? Dual. Okay, how about… the Dual-Orb Technique? She thought about for another couple seconds, before nodding to herself. Yeah. Yeah! That should work. The Dual-Orb Technique… that’s what’s going to help me survive this war. I’m sure of it.
With a new way of controlling her computation devices and a revived motivation, she’d see this war through. One way or another. Now she just had to figure out how to tell her adjutant.
She was not looking forward to that conversation.