I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.

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Act III: Invader

The Fledgling Talent

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My name is Michael. I am fifty-nine solans old, almost thirty years. I'm a prince of the royal house of King Theb-sarr, and in my official capacity I am called Prince Osiris. I am of the Human-Mipedian tribe, one of four tribes of Humans dwelling in Perim.

Around twelve solans ago I married Isis, daughter of Theb-sarr. Our daughter, Hera was born two solans after that. I know that Hera is not my daughter by blood, and I don't care, she's still my daughter.

I have a wonderful circle of family and friends. Sett, my former employer, and his wife of ten solans, Ashley. Shasta, brother-in-law to Sett from a previous marriage. Theb-sarr, my king and father-in-law, and my brother-in-law Iflar, the Crown Prince. Maliph and Malvadine, my first friends in Perim and the newest members of my personal guard, and Joalle, my daughter's nursemaid, who has had as much a hand in Hera's rearing as Isis and I have.

Life is good.

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"I suspect that the primary reason most folk purchase one of these Coalition beverages is the show the barkeeper puts on while mixing it," the Mipedian I'm sitting with muses as he sets his glass down. "A joy to watch being made, but not particularly satisfying to the taste."

I tilt my head and raise an eyebrow. "Actually, most people quite enjoy the taste."

"Most likely an acquired taste, then," the Mipedian says as he adjusts his violet muge's cloak.

The Mipedian sitting across from me has dark orange scales, almost brown. He has a pair of forward sweeping horns that pierce through the hood of his cloak. His flattened face, unusual for a Mipedian, holds a wide mouth and small eyes like dagger-points. His body is muscular, unusually so for a muge, and a round silvery-gray stone is embedded in his chest, at the bottom of his sternum. The cloak he wears is ragged, torn from exposure to sandstorms and almost threadbare, and his loincloth isn't faring much better.

If I had met this creature thirteen solans ago, I likely would have fainted. He is Tiaane, my first favorite character from Chaotic, the show and game this world is like in almost every way.

Tiaane glances out a window and studies the sun. "Will we be waiting much longer?"

"Not much," I say.

The muge turns back to face me. "I admit that the reason your request for an audience with me still eludes me. Will you not inform me?"

I shake my head. "I gave my word that I would wait for everyone to arrive."

"I see." Tiaane folds his arms and looks out the window again.

A few minutes pass, and a red-scaled beauty graces the bar with her presence. I spot her crossing the threshold, and I call out, "Isis! Over here!"

Isis's eyes meet mine, and she smiles. She looks down and speaks to someone, too low for me to hear over this distance. Moments later I hear the patter of tiny running feet, and another red-scale beauty runs up to me.

"Daddy!" Hera cries out with glee in her voice as she reaches me and climbs up on my lap.

"Hey there, munchkin," I say, poking the tip of Hera's nose. She squeals and laughs, and she pokes my nose back.

Tiaane blinks. "I... take it you wished for me to meet your daughter." He looks confused. "Your reason for this is?"

Hera turns to look at Tiaane, and she squeaks and buries her face in my tunic. The air around her shimmers, though she doesn't vanish from sight. She hasn't quite mastered invisibility yet.

I pat her on the back. "It's all right, Hera. This is Tiaane. He's a muge."

Hera peeks at Tiaane, then hides her face again.

Isis sits down next to me, and plants a light kiss on my cheek. "Sorry we're late. You know how she is, hiding behind everything when something surprises her."

Tiaane clears his throat. "So, will I be informed now?"

I nod. "Hera has been showing talent with the basics of mugic."

Tiaane's facial expression doesn't change. "Can she identify the various notes?"

"Yes," Isis says, "both written and played."

Tiaane's eye ridges press together slightly. "Is she capable of duplicating them?"

"Both in writing and by voice," I reply.

Tiaane leans forward. "Hera?"

Hera peeks again.

Tiaane lifts a hand into the air, and with his finger he writes a string of three glowing symbols in the air. "What does this say?"

Hera looks at the symbols, then takes her face away from my chest. She opens her mouth and sings the short melody, middle low high. The symbols sway along with her voice.

Tiaane's eyes widen. He writes a string of seven notes in the air. "What about this?"

Hera grins and bounces slightly in my lap as she sings. The glowing symbols flare brightly and dance.

Tiaane wipes the symbols out of the air, then reaches into a pouch at his waist and pulls out a gray ring. A mugic. "And what does this say?" Tiaane asks as he holds it out.

Hera clumsily takes a hold of the mugic, the container holding a fragment of mugical power. She holds it in both hands and stares at it.

She doesn't sing. Instead, I hear something quiet in the back of my mind. It sounds like an ascending scale of notes being played on a piano.

Tiaane also seems to hear it. He looks at me, then at Isis. "Born during a thunderstorm?" he asks.

Isis nods.

"That explains it," Tiaane says as he leans back in his seat. "Your daughter does indeed hold a talent for mugic."

"Would you be her tutor?" Isis asks.

Tiaane stares at Isis. "Me?"

Isis looks at me. "Michael said you would be a good teacher."

I elaborate, "You were taught by several great muges, even including Najarin, an Overworlder. Your unique knowledge should benefit our daughter best."

Tiaane closes his eyes and sighs. "Again and again I'm reminded that Humans tend to know far more than they should be able to." Then he looks at Hera, who is still playing with the mugic. "I suppose I could settle down for a while. I've never taught anyone quite so young before, but the young do learn the fastest." He nods. "Very well, I will be her tutor."

I grin, and I'm about to speak before Isis nudges me. "Yes, Isis?"

"Has your training started yet?" she mutters.

"Not for another six minutes."

Isis hisses, "Don't be late. I'll take care of everything here."

Tiaane looks between the two of us. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes," Isis groans, "Michael just needs to-"

"Ah," Tiaane interrupts, "you did mention your combat training earlier. Do not let me take up any more of your time, then."

I carefully move Hera over to Isis's lap, then stand. "Wish me luck," I say.

"Gud luck Daddy," Hera says, not looking up from the mugic.

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Up next: The Letter

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Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.

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