Template:PostPan Post 63 ventures back in time to the era of Atlantis and sees Luros the Magician, one of the 12 founders of Atlantis, fretting that he hasn't contributed enough to the glory of Atlantis. With the advice of Tailor Darji, Luros decides that he shall create a whole new ultranexus and works on a spell to produce a single orb of magic to create just that. He asks a young man named Matsu to act as the vessel for the magical seed - a seed that would grow within his bloodline over the centuries.
The Secret of Cool Matty's Power
Circa 1,000,000 B.C. Atlantis, founded merely a few decades ago, is already a flourishing town. Its clay and wooden structures are rapidly being replaced by marble and orichalchum. The first building to receive the renovations is the very first structure built - the Temple of the WriterGod, constructed by Templemont the Builder, one of the city's 12 founders.
Luros the Magician, another founder, watches somewhat disconsolately from the bottom of the hill, as stone walls are torn down to be replaced by orichalcum. The 13 pillars of the inner sanctum - powerful and mysterious hedrons that Luros had discovered upon arriving here - remain untouched in the renovation, as their jet-black surfaces scroll with green glyphs.
Tailor Darji: Why so glum, Luros?
Magician Luros: I've contributed nothing to this city.
Tailor Darji: Don't be a fool. Of course you've contributed. Why, those very sacred hedrons were your discovery, and your idea to implement into the temple's inner sanctum.
Magician Luros: I was simply the first to cast eyes upon them. They are not my doing. Whereas Builder Templemont is constructing these grand edifices. Farmer Zin reaps prosperous crops and created the hybrid plants that beautify this city.
He gestures to the lovely snowblossom trees everywhere.
Magician Luros: Even Possipher has outdone me. A Cakemaker!
Tailor Darji: You know he prefers the term Baker.
Magician Luros: Whatever. Half the reason this place is so prosperous is from his crazy-delicious banana-crème Oreo knockoffs. And then Lawyer Simon fended off that wacky copyright deity about those. Every one of us founders has contributed. Except me.
Tailor Darji: It's my understanding that there's a massive magical nexus here. Couldn't you tap into that, if you feel your achievements aren't enough?
Magician Luros: The ultranexus. Most powerful concentration of magic ever known. Yes, I could, but then that wouldn't be me. I have little magic of my own. I'm a trickster by trade, not a wizard. Even the bard Shadi has more magic than me.
Tailor Darji: So create your OWN nexus. Wouldn't that be a trick worth doing?
Magician Luros stops and stares at Darji.
Magician Luros: That would be an impressive feat indeed...if it could be done!
Tailor Darji sees the wheels turning in the magician's mind, and smiles, leaving him to his own devices. Luros summons Scientist Renat and Poet Shadi the Sha'ir - two more of the city's 12 founders - to the inner sanctum of the Temple of the WriterGod.
Scientist Renat: It is a bold proposal you make, Luros. But my elemental calculus backs up your theory. With the right vessel, it could be done.
Poet Shadi the Sha'ir: Of course it can be done. We are favored by the WriterGod, after all. But the question is, why? For no other reason than to sate your ego, Luros?
Magician Luros: That's why I'm doing it...but there's a better reason for why you should.
Poet Shadi the Sha'ir: And that is?
Magician Luros: Thus far our great city is highly advanced in trade and wealth, architecture and flora, and science and the arts. But we lack in magic. Yes, we have the ultranexus, but lack the learning and the craft. This deed that I propose will solidfy our place as masters of wizardry, and mark the beginning of our superiority in that art.
Shadi the Sha'ir strokes his beard thoughtfully. The glyphs of the hedrons keep scrolling around them, and the poet sees a symmetry in them that speaks to his soul.
Poet Shadi the Sha'ir: Very well, Luros. I will sing the chants you propose.
Scientist Renat: You must acquire a proper vessel first.
Magician Luros: I already have. Come out, Matsu.
A young gangly man, with a staff strapped to his back, steps out from behind one of the hedron pillars. He bows respectfully to the three. Scientist Renat regards him inquisitively, pulling out his abacus and performing calculations on the fly. Poet Shadi the Sha'ir merely looks in the young man's eyes, taking the measure of his spirit.
After a moment, both men agree to this Matsu's ability to act as vessel.
Magician Luros: Then let us begin. Matsu, if you would stand here.
The young man nods obediently and stands before the altar of the WriterGod, putting his back to it as he faces the three men, priests in Atlantis - a priest of science, a priest of words, and a priest of magic. Poet Shadi the Sha'ir begins chanting, as Scientist Renat produces an astrolabe.
But the bulk of the task falls to Magician Luros.
Magician Luros: WriterGod be with me...
He plunges his metaphorical hand into the heart of the ultranexus that beats around them, here in the sanctum of the WriterGod's Grand Temple. It seems like such a simple act, yet it is a delicate and complex operation he performs. Finally, after several long minutes, he withdraws his metaphorical hand...and opens his real hand.
A tiny spark of flame flickers in his palm. A single spark of pure magic, drawn from the heart of the ultranexus.
Magician Luros: Open your mouth, Matsu, and swallow.
The young man obeys, and Luros drops the spark into his throat, and Matsu swallows. Sweat breaks out on his face, as his body adjusts to the influx of power. Even a single spark of this great ultranexus floods him with energy.
Magician Luros: How do you feel?
Matsu: As though I never need to sleep again...
Luros smiles as Poet Shadi the Sha'ir stops chanting.
Magician Luros: Perfect.
Poet Shadi the Sha'ir: Taking a single spark of the ultranexus and imbuing a person with it is quite a feat, but that does not a new ultranexus make.
Scientist Renat: But it will, over centuries.
Magician Luros: Or millennia. That spark is merely a seed. It will grow within Matsu, and he will pass it on to his first child, and then it will grow within him or her, and so on down the generations. Every generation, the passed-on spark will flare brighter in their blood, until at last it is an ultranexus in its own right.
Scientist Renat: An alchemy of blood and fire.
Poet Shadi the Sha'ir: That's almost poetic. I approve.
Magician Luros claps his hands in glee, and puts his arm around Matsu, leading the young man outside.
Scientist Renat: That was a potent deed the magician performed...but it does not make him learned in the wizard's craft.
Poet Shadi the Sha'ir: No, but it set him on that path. It did what was needed. It gave him confidence.