Spirit Walk Prologue

This has been on the poll since the start, and it's never been posted here. So I'm doing it.

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Tasha Tycretius. It was a good nom de guerre, it was similar enough to their second name that they were used to responding to it, and the name was more Latin rather than Russian/Germanic. They were hardly the only "young woman" to immigrate to the Unified States to escape the absolutely atrocious conditions The Empire's former lands were after the war, and it was a simple matter to just... drift into obscurity.

However, living as a woman in the forties, even in a country as well-off economically as America, was awful. Worse, magic signatures were tracked, so the moment Tasha tries to cast even a single formula? Everyone will know that the "Devil of the Rhine" flies again.

Fortunately, dying hair black was enough of a disguise that no one ever connected those mysterious signatures matching that infamous name to the random civilian. They weren't even questioned on either occasion.

But Tasha missed flying. One of the few joys in this hellhole of a second life that Being X flung them into was the joy of unassisted flight. They still had a Type 97 from the War, although smuggling it into the country was a headache and a half. They used to have two, but one was sold for a very high price to work as seed money for Tasha's airline company.

Salamander Airlines, the world leader in passenger flights. It was just a matter of recruiting the right engineers, pilots, all kinds of human resources, and the company more or less ran itself at this point, just as they designed it to. At least well enough to take a long vacation to follow up on one of thier top pilot's tip.

"So, my grandson Dakoda tells me," The elderly Haida tribe shaman began, lifting the letter of introduction she had presented to him. "that you wish to know more about the magical scanners the white men have, and how to fool them so as to make money by improving them." Tasha nodded in agreement. "A good lie." He complimented.

Tasha's eyes widened. "What do you mean?" They asked, feigning innocence.

"Don't you try that with me, two-spirit." The shaman spat. "Your interest in this topic is clearly more than academic or monetary, and if you think me fool enough to not notice, than this meeting is finished." He started to turn, huffing as it took longer than a younger person would have managed.

"Wait." Tasha said, the shaman halting his rotation. "I'm sorry, honored elder." Were they laying it on thick? Yeah. It was all for the joys of flight. "I'm on the run, and without magic... I feel incomplete." After a moment, Tasha decided to chance a question. "What do you mean, two-spirit?"

The shaman nodded, accepting her respect. "I'm not about to call you girl, two-spirit. It's something that the white man refuses to understand. That is what we call those who cannot be simplified into 'man' or 'woman'." He chuckled for a moment. "I suppose it's a bit more literal than usual, for yourself."

Tasha was shocked. How did he know? They had spent their entire second life without anyone questioning their feminine credentials, and this old man just takes one look and could see that they were a man in a girl's body?

The elder continued. "Now, magic is a practice that comes forth from the spirit, and as such, the magical detectors that the white men use can unfailingly identify a person. To the sight of those machines, a person's individuality shines out as obviously different to another as a rock and a stick." He gestured to the paraphernalia he scattered around his shack. "Each of these are the tools of my trade, and no matter which one I use, the white man's detectors will know that I am practicing my great works."

Tasha frowned. "Then how would I change my magical signature? Dokoda was quite sure that such a thing was possible, and that you knew how."

"I am getting to that, two-spirit." The elder said. "The records the magic detectors share with each other can correct for small changes over time. Therefore, in order to fool them, you must undergo a significant change in your perspective." He tapped his nose. "They can't detect the Devil of the Rhine if that person no longer exists, after all."

Once again, the shaman brings out knowledge he had no way of knowing. "That's ridiculous." Tasha replied.

The shaman shrugged. "Well, would you say that the you of today is all that much different then the one who fought those battles? If you were there once more, would you do similar things?"

"Of course." Tasha said. "I was a soldier, working to defeat the enemy. But I'm not a soldier anymore."

"But that's the issue, two-spirit." The elder said. "You are still the one who identifies so strongly with what you are, that who you are falls by the wayside. In that respect, you are the same."

Tasha was fairly certain this elder was talking nonsense at this point. Then again... he was clearly using magic somehow in ways that the Imperial calculative magic would call impossible. While that system was very in line with Tasha's preferences, they did recall that in their first life, magic was significantly broader of an idea than just that.

In short, maybe he was on to something. "What is your proposal? I am prepared to compensate you handsomely in whatever form of payment you prefer, in the event that I can fly freely once more."

"There are two ways to accomplish what you set out to do." The shaman said simply. "First, you can not use magic for about... ten years, and at the end of that, look back at the war. If you think differently about it than you do right now, it should be sufficient."

Tasha's eyebrow twitched. "And the other way?" It was a common sales technique to present the less desirable option first, so presumably the next one would be more palatable.

"You could go on a Spirit Walk." He concluded. "You connect your mind to the cosmos, and in doing so, gain insight." Well that was frustratingly vague. "The exact insight varies, of course. Some speak to their spirit animal, and that is sufficient. Some speak to their own past or future self. Some speak to those who they could have been, if they made different choices. That one's popular among two-spirits."

Somehow, Tasha is not surprised about this outcome. "And what exactly would that entail? What's the magical process involved?"

The shaman chuckled. "The white man's magic is quite useful for war, it is true. But the old ways have their own advantages." He grabbed one of the net in a circle things... a dreamcatcher? That was hanging. He seemed to really like them, there were dozens around. He traced a line along the various pieces of string. It was clearly some kind of magical focus, but what was he... his finger ended at the same spot he began and the gap in the center lit up with a sphere of light. He hung it back onto it's hook.

"Was that... a magical circuit?" Tasha asked. It would explain why he started and ended at the same spot at least.

"Circuit..." He said, as if tasting the word. "Yes, that word seems appropriate. Each string is braided differently, each one carries different intent. When mana is focused through the patterns, it can be directed much like the magic clocks the white men prefer." He held up his hand. "But that was just a demonstration. The questions you have about the methods are more complex than that. Magic is a matter of will and instruction. Instruction is difficult, so we create foci that can do that part for us. Even then, if our will is insufficient, the instructions are meaningless." Tasha nodded. That much was true even for Computation Magic. "Matters of the spirit, the mind, and the cosmos are more complicated concepts that cannot be simply mapped to mere string. Instead, song, dance, and intent shape the mana in ways that allow for such subtle magics." After a moment, he addressed her other question. "For payment, I will accept it in Mithril." Ah yes, the magical metal that did not exist in their first life would be something that was useful to them. Some of the foci in his shack included metal bits, that was probably either Mithril or would be replaced with it.

Singing, dancing, and mental gymnastics? Think of the flying, Tasha. "I will do it."

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Learning the basic skills of a shaman was surprisingly quick, it only took two days to learn it to an adequate level. It wasn't quite the same as channeling mana into a computation orb, more difficult, but once they got that down the elder went straight to preparing them to do the Spirit Walk ritual.

"The Spirit Walk has five steps." The shaman explained as they started the final preparations. "First, we need to account for your position in the cosmos. We've done that already." It was a significant endeavor figuring out what Tasha's actual age was, but eventually they determined that Being X didn't put them into a newborn baby, but instead a little girl that was fourteen months old. Given the date of death and the current date, that put Tasha's spirit at fifty-two years old. "Next, you must drink this potion. It will disturb but not break the connection of your sprit and body, enough to allow the magic to settle in properly." He didn't yet pass her the potion. "Third, you must wear the ceremonial garb." The outfit was itself a foci, basically a series of leather straps, metal wires, and beads custom made with the information gathered in the first step accounted for. "Fourth, you must sing while channeling mana in the way you have practiced through the ceremonial garb." Tasha nodded, rattling off the exact order that the foci's threads needed to be empowered, using the terminology the shaman had drilled into their skull. "Good. Last, is the ceremonial dance. I do that part." Apparently, when a non-mage or a weak mage needed to do a Spirit Walk, the process was substantially more complex, but with Tasha's A-rank reserves they could skip all of the parts that required consolidating large amounts of mana from many people to get it to work. If they had bothered to wait another month for the next new moon, Tasha could have theoretically learned enough to do the entire ritual themselves, but they didn't carve out quite that much vacation time.

Also, the shaman still needed to be participating to distort the magical readings from the magic sensor continually pointed at the Native American reservation. He did know some ways to conceal other people's magic from detection, which was useful for the learning process, but it didn't work to hide his own.


Nevertheless, Tasha drank the vile concoction, channeled mana along the wires and beads while singing the song they had to memorize. The song did have words, but they weren't sung. You sang in tones only, and thought the concepts the lyrics portrayed strongly. It was strange, but the feeling of mana leaving their body and condensing around Tasha's body reminded them of how the type 95 functioned, so it was pretty clear at this point that it was real deal.

Tasha wasn't quite sure when the Spirit Walk began, but eventually...

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They woke up in a world of fog. Was this it? After a moment of staring at the nothingness around them, Tasha figured that as it was a Spirit Walk, they should probably start putting one foot in front of the other.

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