Pete Harrison arrived at the summoners' guild.
He immediately went to the shelf where he could get a jug of milk. It was a valuable product. Some Summoners had pet Pegasus. They could travel through the air. The pegasus was a dangerous and strong creature. Excellent companions and helpers in battle. They could give milk! Many Summoners drank this delicious and healthy milk. Little pets were also fed with pegasus milk.
The young man took a clean cup and hurried to an empty table. He placed the cup under the table first and fill it with milk. His pet immediately jumped off his shoulder and began to lap up the food. Pete quickly went to the serious food table and got himself some meat and bread. There were several pitchers of juice and other beverages on each table.
The summoner and his pet dined in a quiet, peaceful atmosphere. No one disturbed the young man with questions or conversation. This town had its advantages. Pete wasn't anxious and didn't gravitate to the chilly attitude of a newcomer to the guild.
After supper, he carried the dirty dishes and went up to his room. He wanted to read and rest. He needed to prepare for his talk with the vampires. The evening class was not a success. There was an uneasy feeling in the young man's stomach. Then he felt dizzy. He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. Perhaps the new diet was too rough for him? Perhaps he was allergic to new varieties of food? A quiet purr was heard in his head, "Poison."
Pete Harrison froze. He opened his eyes and looked around. Trank was lying on his pillow and occasionally pecking his head with the tail. It didn't bother the young man, it even soothed him.
"Trank? You started talking!" asked Pete loudly.
"Daddy, you drank a poisoned drink."
Dracat's voice was quiet and had pleasant purring notes. But Pete immediately frowned,
"Poison in the drink? But why? Scarlet wanted to talk. She's not the enemy."
"She's a vampire. The poison is weak. It weakened your head. I was there to help you handle it."
Pete Harrison hadn't expected such treachery. Were the stories of evil vampires true? Scarlet liked him. Tough, assertive, and strong girl. This town kills the weak. Had she planned the meeting and ordered the servants to add poison to his drink?
"Twenty-seven gold pieces. You wasted gold for nothing. Daddy, I want my world. I feel a connection to it."
"Stop! Trank let's settle one question. I'm not your daddy. I didn't give you life. I helped you come into this world. I'm like a big brother. Okay?"
"Brother. Good. Help me brother! I'm tired of strangers' thoughts. You need to share the weight of this magic with me."
Pete didn't understand the meaning of that sentence. What magic? What strange thoughts? Suddenly he felt a heaviness in his head. His eyes closed. In his mind's eye, he saw a strange cube-shaped object. On the surface of the sides of the cube, there were holes from which rays of light seeped out. The cube had a void inside. Its interior was filled with light. It was an impenetrable white light. In a few places, the light had a green color. There was movement inside the cube. The light made it difficult to see details and specifics. The object looked familiar.
"That's the artifact you swallowed! It is the spiritoire of the warrior Plas."
"Not a warrior. A mage from Plas. Hidden from death. Thoughts are evil and heavy. But there are tasty ones. Useful thoughts for you."
The pet's voice and the vision of the strange artifact made the young man forget his headache. He trusted his pet completely. He thought and analyzed the fight with the Plas warrior. It was unpleasant to feel like a puppet. It was very painful. His body was not ready for such an overload! But all the trouble was justified and he escaped death. He needs to accept the rules of his new life. Training the body requires attention. He needs to get some exercise.
Pete asked a new question, "Trank. Do you like your name?"
"It's not a name. It's a nickname. A name I recognize in my world. Are you ready to share thoughts with me? Here's a tasty little bite."
And a bomb went off in Pete Harrison's head. He couldn't scream out in pain. Numbness of muscles gripped his body. Tears ran from the young man's eyes. It was an ordeal that went on and lasted. He did not understand the meaning of time. The young man existed in a world of suffering. Then the intense pain was replaced by relief. Pete closed his eyes and immersed himself in understanding the amazing story.
He saw the world through the eyes of a young unfamiliar mage. The novice was carefully studying an ancient spellbook. The mage was looking for a special spell for himself. It would make him dangerous and allow him to achieve his goals. The mage's eyes studied the symbols of ancient knowledge. The mage turned away from the pedestal with the book. He began to practice. Pain and suffering became the novice's loyal companions. The spell was dangerous and it was damaging to the inexperienced novice. The young mage experienced a long time of failure and punishment for his failures.
Pete Harrison shook his head. The vision was gone. The unfamiliar mage's method remained in his mind. The man from Earth understood how to use magic in this world.
A magician is a creator. The young man had no words to describe the Inspiration. An artist paints a picture and mixes the colors on the canvas with skill. The artist does not think about the composition of the paints. But he knows that composition. A musician writes a melody. He does not think about the notes that make up the chords. But he knows which notes make up each chord. A writer writes a book. He weaves a web of words to describe images and characters. The writer doesn't think about the meaning of the words. But he knows the meaning of each word.
Performing magic requires a complete understanding of each element of the spell. Repeating the ritual many times leads to success. Miraculously, spontaneity combines with conscious control.
The Ark mage does not need a magic wand or other instrument. A mage has his favorite things. But they are not necessary tools for creativity. A staff or a magic wand, a ring, or a body amulet. They are as close parts of a magician's life as his hair or fingernails. Hair has meaning in special situations. But for a person, the mere presence of hair is meaningful. Or its absence if one prefers baldness.
Pete Harrison was special. He didn't miss an opportunity to get into new trouble.
A familiar flame of magic burned in his heart. There was the calm and indifference of an old man from Plas on his face. There were no unnecessary hand gestures or wasted attention on words. The magician depended on concentration and a clear understanding of the task and purpose for the magic to take effect.
A mage wanted, a mage did.
The air erupted in front of the young man. The fire darted forward and struck the door of the room. The door opened outward. It saved Pete from serious injury. A blow of flame swung the door open and the fire blazed at the entrance to the room. The flames gathered into shape and didn't move far. It wasn't a classic Fireball, it was a kind of magical flamethrower.
And the time for trouble had come. Pete again experienced the familiar feeling of losing control of his body. He took a few steps forward and stepped into the attic. The young man grasped the doorknob and returned to the room. There was no latch on the door. Pete locked the door at night. He took the key out of his pocket and locked the lock. Then the young man went over to the bed and lay down. When his head touched the pillow full self-possession returned to him.
"Thank you. You are a talent. I'm relieved. People are starting to worry outside. We'll lie still."
"You've done it all for me again! This is outrageous and unpleasant. You can warn me in situations like this!"
"Waste of time. You've wasted gold."
Pete didn't know what to say back to him. It's not normal for a pet to care about money. Dracat might have a weakness for gold. Why would he have such thoughts?
"Because I'm a dragon and a cat. The dragon sleeps a lot. He's not interested."
The summoner froze at the sudden suspicion of his mental illness. He hears a voice in his head. It's not normal. But he has the thoughts of two minds in his head! This is absolutely insane.
"Going Slightly Mad!"