Many people consider the number seven to be a lucky number, as well as the 'fact' that the number thirteen to be unlucky. Where did such a concept come from?
Frankly, we are to blame for this. Well, not exactly me, but 'we' in general, the Order of Hermes.
What is the Order of Hermes? Well to explain it in detail would take too long you know. But in short, magicians need a place, a way to 'organize' and pool their resources, to somehow unite their goals with each other. And we the Order of Hermes, the best of the Nine Traditions, are such an organization that gave them this opportunity.
Magicians and Magic? Quite common really, so much so that not even all the Awakened realize how much magic is actually a 'non-magical' action.
What's an Awakened? Well, it's us, the awakened magicians, there are also linear or hedge magicians. Linear magicians are things like vampires, fairies, sorcerers... But I wonder if spirits are considered linear magicians? From the point of view of the Order of Hermes it's more 'yes' than 'no', but it is a rather complex topic to talk about...
Oh yeah, what was I talking about? Yes, that's right, lucky numbers!
Seven is traditionally considered a lucky number, like a three and, by the way, like a nine - a tripling of threes. It seems to me in this case twenty-seven should also be considered a particularly lucky number - triple triplet of triplets or three of the third degree, cubic luck...
Hmm, I'm sorry, I'm running off tracks again.
So, lucky numbers and how we are to blame for this.
If you look closely, our whole world is somehow saturated with the number three. According to the Babylonians, the world consists of three parts - Paradise, Earth, and Hell. The biblical God is represented in the form of the Holy Trinity. The Three Norns are spinning the fate of the Scandinavians. Trimurti are united as the three faces of the gods of Hinduism. Third time's a charm, after all.
There are also a lot of cases where the number seven pops up in our world. Seven great gods of Sumer, seven spirits of Egypt, seven rishis, seven metals of the Magnum Opus, the seven years the temple of Solomon was under construction… In other words a lot of 'coincidences'. There is a lot of numerology, in the world, in which, in general, we are mostly to blame for first of all.
We, as in the Order of Hermes, not like, me personally - and not my old man personally...
Wait, you're still confused? Interesting... But what else to expect from a Sleeper? Okay, I'll start from the beginning...
I was born under the name... Let's leave my name out of something that others would read huh. A 'name' is a very important part of our being after all and I do not want to trust you with this secret. Not that I don't trust you per se, let's just say that there's a lot of ways of finding out secrets even without the secret keeper blabbing it out.
In any case, I was born on the eighth of August in the year one thousand nine hundred and eighty-two in the year of our Lord, in London, Great Britain, in the family of my father and my mother. It's the year 1982 AD if you have a reading difficulty.
That's probably all I can say about them, anything positive, at least. After all you either only speak good things about the dead, or nothing but the truth. And the truth is that in the four years that I spent living with them, only one thing has been deposited in my memory bank. My first and last memory of them. The fire in which they died - and where I almost died too.
How many times have people told you 'don't smoke in bed' - but it never works. Father was drunk, mother... probably, too? And soon the whole house was on fire. Now, I'm afraid there is no way for me to check this. Although, if you find a couple of people versed in Ars Spirituum, then you can summon her ghost. But, well, what good will it do?
In any case, as I was four years old, my parents' house burned down with them inside and I as well. I should have also died with them, but… I learned about what magic is as the world around me burned. Back then, I just wanted to be as far away as possible - and somehow I did. I have Awakened. Well, not really, that came later. But let's just say my 'eyes' were opened a bit. The story of how they found me on the Trafalgar Arch deserves a separate mention.
It didn't take long for me to end up in an orphanage. As I had stayed there I, probably, would have been taken to a foster family... but they didn't. Back then I didn't even wonder why, it took awhile for me to learn that the old man, my soon to be adoptive father, had pulled a couple of old favors. As I had later learned, it seems that even if he was on a deserted island, the old man would be able to find a couple of spirits that once owed him and would have pulled the soul out of them for a couple of favors... Metaphorically speaking that is. He could do it for real, but the old man prefers not to.
Anyway, I spent two years in the orphanage - not a bad two years mind you. While my relations with the other orphans and caretakers were strained, I would be asking too much if I also wanted their friendship when I was the 'strange child' to them. I was indeed strange, they were normal. I was Awakened, they were Sleepers. It was a story you can find anywhere.
And for that two years the old man watched over me. Sometimes he came under the guise of an old friend of the teacher, Miss Rockberry, or perhaps some other disguises. But more importantly, as he visited, he exchanged phrases with me, and gave me books a couple of times. The content of these books was mind-blowing to say the least, and their language was as mind-bogglingly difficult to parse but they were interesting to read.
Although I will not give my child the complete collection of the works of Paracelsus as a gift mind you. Well at least until they're twelve years old at least.
What my old man had done is a normal practice when scouting for prospective Awakened, or at least Sleepers that have a potential to awaken. The magicians of the Order are very secretive, and I was a four year old kid. So as I stayed in the orphanage they watched me, assessed me… Should they kill me? Maybe. Killing children is not the most worthy act, but if I turned out to be a petty asshole or worse a Widderslainte, it might be the best possible option to 'snip the bud' as they say.
The old man watched me for two years, and then satisfied by what he sees, adopted me.
Everything was done in an honest and official way, he even brought all the necessary documents all signed and notarized… The documents themselves were, of course, fake as sin. After all, unfortunately, in our mundane society there is some prejudice against people who have lived for over a thousand years. Though, don't tell the old man that I've revealed his secret. He likes to say that he's a little over forty and he is young in soul and body.
Though, maybe it's true in a certain point of view? He definitely didn't live on Earth for that long of a time. A thousand-year on Earth is not the best way to remain young after all.
And so I got new documents and a new name, well a 'mundane' name. Jonathan Arian Goodman, nice name, isn't it? The name of a magician, or more precisely, the name by which he is commonly known needs to sound melodious, in the end.
And so, as I turned six years old, I'm now the adopted son of my old man. What? That's too long of a prologue and I should get on with it? Well okay geez, be patient will you, the good stuff comes after this.
It's cool to be a magician, to be an Awakened. It's not very cool to realize how difficult it is to be a magician. And it's not at all very 'cool' to understand that everyone is a magician - and this makes being a magician especially bad for you. I'll explain more about it a bit more later.
The history of the creation of the world is long and not the most interesting... No, more precisely, it is very interesting, so if you have time, be sure to read about it, but for my story it is way out of a tangent. So, I'll simplify it a little.
Once upon a time long, long ago, there was a caveman. And he thought - 'I want me to have a thing that is warm!' And lightning flashed, struck a tree - and fire appeared.
The man took the fire and then thought 'hmm, this thing must be scary for the wild animals' and wild beasts began to fear fire. And then the man thought - 'it would be cool if this thing could cook food!' And the food began to cook.
In short, man came up with fire. He didn't invent it, he didn't learn to use it, he didn't study it... But he just imagined it - and it happened.
In fact, the whole world was made up in the same way. Mankind believed that the world had a solid ground - and so a solid ground existed under his feet. Then mankind came up with the idea that the Sun went beyond the horizon - and so the world began to turn.
Well, you know, the biblical 'and then God created light, the sky, and the dirt' this is approximately it. Except that the Biblical God and man in this context are the same. Mankind just thought, invented and believed - and 'it' simply is so.
Although, some of my more religious brothers like to philosophize on this topic. Or as I would like to call it, thinking in circles. After all, man was created in the image and likeness of God, which means that God is the image and likeness of man… and so on and so forth. It doesn't matter.
However, what happened next? The second thing intervened, infinite like human ingenuity, is his stupidity.
And so another caveman thought - 'the fire probably consumes the tree on which it burns.'
And you know what? The fire burned out, along with the tree.
This is where all the problems began. Not specifically from the fire, but from the fact that different people, all practically omnipotent in their faith, began to out think one after another.
We need air in order to breathe - and there must be oxygen in the air - and oxygen must go to the lungs - and the lungs give it to the blood - and hemoglobin in the blood - and hemoglobin is iron - and iron is a metal - and metals must be mined - and mined they are from the ground - and they got to the ground due to cosmic radiation - and radiation is from the Sun...
This linked chain grew, grew, grew - and in the end people faced a problem. What if different people believe in different things? One thinks that he can fly, and the other that he cannot. What happened next?
People are almost omnipotent in their faith, but there are many people, perhaps too much.
It is very difficult to resolve the issue if two groups of people believe in opposite things. But if say, one believes in flight and ten in the absence of flight, then it is not so difficult to determine the winner of this kind of competition.
Ten people do not believe in flying, but one believes. As a result, nobody flies. Ten people believe that fire burns, and one does not believe - the fire burns all eleven people.
Thus, the Consensus was gradually formed. A great name, a kind of agreement of minds about what they believe in. Yes, one person can believe that he is immortal - but if seven billion people say 'no' to him, then his faith means little. Well, not quite, at least not yet.
At first, the Consensus was not very strong. During the Middle Ages, people were poorly educated, and superstition ruled the world. This was a golden age for magicians, especially us, the Order of Hermes. These times are where the typical image of magicians were born. Dressed in high caps and large robes, sitting in their towers. This is us, the Magicians, the Awakened.
More precisely, we were once like that.
Anyway, anyway, how did the magicians come about? If all people are omnipotent, then why did the division into magicians and non-magicians appear?
The Consensus, the agreement of people's beliefs, this is where the distinction lies.
It is like a chain of belief. A man believed that fire does not burn and taught that it so to his children. His children, childrens' were then taught that fire does not burn, and so on and so forth. Until one day fire no longer burns them. The essence of magic is not being able to draw the most beautiful pentagrams - although it helps sometimes - but in their belief.
Magicians are simply people whose blind 'faith' of the Consensus has degenerated.
People have by the time of the Consensus stopped believing that they are omnipotent. When you are a peasant whose daily life is to thresh grain since childhood, it's difficult to unexpectedly simply believe that you can grow wings and fly.
This is how the division between magicians and non-magicians appeared. All of us, one way or another, were taught in school that two plus two equals four, but why is that so? Asking a person whether or not they believe that two plus two equals four would only get you strange looks. You are just supposed to 'know' it.
You 'know' that the Sun rises in the east, you 'know' that water is wet, you 'know' that fire is hot… But you don't believe it, you 'know' it. A magician is one who believed.
If you jump up, you will fall down, you 'know' that flight is impossible. But a magician believes that by drawing the correct pentagram and drawing the desired symbol, he will fly. And so he will fly.
Of course, it's not that simple.
The Consensus, the agreement of minds about what to believe in, is always on guard. But the Consensus is not all-seeing - not so many people believe in the laws of physics as they just know about them, however, it is there. Seven billion knowledgeable people, even if they do not believe very strongly, still counts for something scary. Seven billions' belief in their 'common sense' would crush a lone magician's.
And therefore the magician can fly, the Consensus will allow him to do this. It is after all nothing more than the embodiment of the mundane people's common sense, not supported by the sincere faith of people. However, what bad luck, seven billion people 'know' that a person cannot fly... And then they saw someone flying. What happens next?
Paradox. Literally and figuratively.
More than the philosophical discussion about events happening in contradiction to each other, a Paradox is a real tangible thing. When a normal person sees a flying magician, he begins to think 'how did such a thing happen?'. And so his belief began to wander. And when a nascent god begins to wander, let's just say that if the poor magician is lucky if he'll only lose control of his spell and fly faster or something. And then the Paradox would come and ruin his day. And that's bad.
It's very hard, almost impossible for magicians to use magic, or at least as we call it 'vulgar magic', in front of the public. To do something that is impossible for them or at the very least the Consensus even if it is possible for you.
Of course you could try, and you might even succeed, you would probably then wish that you didn't. After you did something so monumentally stupid, the public will suffer perhaps a bit of value dissonance for a while until the Lie, the Consensus, will lull them back to sleep. The very stupid Magician however is doomed as the waves of 'reality' washes over him. If he were lucky, the Paradox will simply hunt him down until the day he dies, or make amends… somehow. If he was unlucky, well…
The old man knew this one guy - he was a great man, a great magician. He had peered into the future, saw the First World War happening and without pause, he simply turned off the explosiveness of gunpowder throughout the earth to prevent Gavrillo Princip from shooting the Archduke. Then he flew to Paris in his zeppelin and declared himself the king of the world. After all he had just beaten the Paradox! Nothing could stop him remaking the Earth as he wishes!
The Paradox did not appreciate his efforts. Now only about five people on the whole Earth remember him. As well as the place of his birth, as well as the geographical area about where he was, even his name will not be remembered now. Many don't even know that he ever existed. Like you, for example. The Paradox had corrected his interference, by 'correcting' the world so that he did not exist in the first place. The unfortunate magician wanted to do what was best… according to the old man at least.
In general, with the Paradox, being unsubtle is really really bad.
The lack of Paradox is why magicians felt so free during the Middle Ages, when people themselves were ready to believe in witches and sorcerers. Back then, doing 'vulgar' magics in front of the mundanes might even 'help' the magician. A pipe dream of that happening in the modern world. And that is why, in modern times, there are no miracles anymore.
Okay, magicians are not saints either. For example the Black Death, the greatest plague of Europe... Yes, it was also created by one for ours, or at least he's responsible for it happening. Should we defend him, perhaps say that he just accidentally made a mistake? No, it's not worth it. We magicians have too many unpleasant pages in our history to bother with defending ourselves for one.
During the Middle Ages, magicians lived their golden age with abandon and magic covens determine the destinies of worlds. Little care was taken of normal people then. You are either a strong magician playing world politics - or a resource. And then the Technocrats took the stage. They were called the Order of Reason, back then when they first formed.
The Order of Reason was in its prime back then, perhaps you can even say that they were good people back then. The Renaissance is their work. They were the ones that invented education, handed out guns to people, taught people how to make high-quality steel, then cars, airplanes also appeared from their 'science'.
And then we, the magicians, started having problems.
The magicians of old paid too little attention to ordinary people, forgetting that every person has a potential to become a creator and a god, while the Order of the Reason staked everything on them. Why arrange grandiose battles against the armies of dragons and the undead If you can just make people not believe in them? Wielding the Consensus like a weapon, the Order of reason reigned supreme over the other Magicians.
They used this most terrible weapon against magicians - disbelief. This led to the current situation in the modern times where Magicians have to hide their Magic. Yes, a magician can still throw a fireball at any mundane… But at what cost?
No, we were not cornered and cease to exist mind you. Magic still has a place in the world and we are still like gods. We just need to 'adjust' our methods.
For example if you fly an airplane like an ace through magic, although you have never learned it in the past, it is unlikely, but still possible. It doesn't matter if in fact you just put an air spirit on the plane and mime piloting the plane, what matters is what people see. And what they see is you at the helm not something that breaks their image of the world. And often this is enough to avoid the watchful gaze of Paradox.
There are still other ways of course, just throw the Paradox on the artifact that you use, and do not create magic yourself. Try to convince the world around that the gas pipe exploded by itself, and you have nothing to do with it. Collect a cult of fanatics who will hide you from the gaze of Paradox with their belief that what you do is normal. And the last thing - go to Umbra.
Yes, Earth is the center of the universe - kind of - but not the only realm of existence in this world, parallel worlds for example are a viable alternative.
Technocrats love to talk about Umbra and space being related to each other - but they are wrong, Umbra is much more than just space.
Parallel worlds - which the Technocrats inexplicably associate with the planets.
Worlds of Mind - I wonder how the Technocrats explain them.
World Wide Web - Virtualists love to explore it, saying that the Internet is just a real reflection of the Web... In general, there are many options.
And Umbra, a place that is far from Earth's influence, is the go to place for magicians. First of all, because people believe that the Earth is the maximum that they can control. Well, at best, low-earth orbit - but no further. And for us magicians, it means that Paradox or more importantly the Consensus cannot reach Umbra.
Did I say that my old man didn't like to stay on Earth? Seven billion people do not really believe that one can live for a thousand years on Earth, and so the old man loved to go where people did not really reach, to Umbra.
We, the Order of Hermes, have long ago chosen many good places in Umbra to stay. In the end, when you comprehend the secrets of the universe and unexpectedly find yourself capable of destroying the world with a snap of your fingers, it is a little depressing to remain on Earth, where even for setting fire from your fingers, the faith of seven billion people can tear your hand off. Therefore, many of our old magicians left for Umbra. The old man also usually went there... And I also had to continue my studies there.
Oh, I digress .. Sorry, talkativeness. I like to talk about abstract metaphysical topics. Bani Bonisagus, what can I say.
In any case, the old man took me from the orphanage, revealed to me the truth of the world, and then began to teach me. Unfortunately, not magic, at first anyway.
Do you know how difficult it is to learn Latin when you are seven and you just want ice cream? How difficult is it to draw pentagrams if you are not quite confident in counting to five yet? I know. Thanks to my old man I was able to have a semblance of a normal education, but the teaching methods in the Order of Hermes are very peculiar so any chance of 'normality' goes out of the window…
For four years I was taught the main thing for a magician to know; stealth, etiquette, drawing, reading, writing, counting... Well, magic is a very demanding task!
Of course, 'believe in yourself' is a very simple piece of advice that unlike, for the mundanes, actually does something for us Magicians. Alas, it's better to decide what exactly you believe in first before you accidentally make the lecture hall to be made of pudding.
And, to understand what you believe in, you need to learn such basic things as Greek, Latin, astrophysics, alchemy... Sometimes it seems to me that the old man simply did not know how to communicate with children.
I was taught by the old man for four years, and when I was ten I went to a formal school. A school of magicians, by the way. A little later, I read that series of books about that 'Harry Potter and his miscellaneous artifacts'. Let's just say that I was able to say that I studied at Hogwarts. But when I studied there the book was not written yet - and studying at the academy of magicians was surprisingly mundane if not eclectic.
In the first lesson you studied trigonometry, in the second you have to calculate the angles of a pentacle, in the third a lesson in etiquette, then lunch, and after that dueling with swords. I'm not proud to say that it was my worst subject - and then French as my second worst. Because fuck the French.
They taught us conscientiously, but I still don't consider my teachers friends. And finally the worst subject that they teach you, politics. Do you know what kind of politics an Order with a thousand years of history, ruled by potentially endlessly living old people, in whose hands most authority is concentrated on, authority that makes Earth's worst tyrannies look tame in comparison? Politics, byzantine politics at that.
Therefore, with politics being a thing, we devoted no less time to history and etiquette than to alchemy and numerology. A lot of people didn't like it, idiots, but what can you do? Not all people are able to appreciate the beauty of undercover intrigue. Although all sorts of 'killer' parts of these intrigues - not my favorite.
So, I studied in the Order for seven years. Theurgy, goetia, celestology... Again the number seven, popped up. And then, I turned sixteen. And then eleven more months passed. It was August ninety-ninth.
The old man grinned then, at my graduation prom. He patted me on the back, gave me a glass of wine for the first time in my life, and then announced to me that he wanted to give me a present for my birthday. I know that he had long wanted to retire completely from business within the Order - and I apparently showed great aptitude. In fact, I was an Adept at seventeen, although not officially recognized - the higher-ups expected a great future for me.
So, being who he is, the old man wanted to give me his position in the Order. An honor to be sure, but a mere Seventeen year old Adept would be torn apart by the council, metaphorically speaking of course. Not like I could refuse, so the old man is going to show me the ropes of his job.
So my future would have me dealing with our and eight other Traditions, also magicians, just not ours, for a long long time until I myself retire somewhere. Not a bad deal if I say so myself. I would go on adventures, solve the Order's mysteries. I could also see myself taking a couple of students for myself in the future, maybe participate in the Great Game against fellow Order members. Maybe even take a stroll in Umbra, have as much fun as I can… Well, that's far in the future, now I'm just preparing myself for the trip to the Umbra with the old man.
And so, soon after my graduation, I went with him to Umbra. He was grinning, already his thoughts filled with private beaches on the shore of some World Ocean, and I was not a little nervous. Also Eliza refused me... Stupid girl. I just invited her to a dance, not like I was proposing to her or anything - and I brought such magnificent flowers!
Eh, right, the trip to the Umbra. Not long after the dance, my old man took me to his private office for the first time, and arranged the ritual himself - and we went to Umbra. What? Too bland? Well, the old man did not like much theatricality - although the old man was from the Order of Hermes, how strange. And therefore there were no grandiose rituals, just a couple of candles and a couple of pentagrams. Then I just stepped into the ritual circle, and suddenly found myself walking forward along a road stretching ahead. The old man walked side by side, we both looked at the worlds under our feet… A path between worlds with the world itself under our feet. Not gonna lie, it was very cool.
Do you know what the worst problem being a magician is? Not Paradox, not the Sleepers and their Disbelief, not rare ingredients, not about the dying belief in miracles, not even the self-awareness of how insignificant you really are.
It's other Magicians.
There are many other magicians. Surprising, I know. For the mundanes who never see one their whole life, you would be surprised at the number and kind of magicians there are.
There are our allies of different Traditions. Magicians like me, only a bit different.
Then there are Primitive witches running through the woods. The kind who religious missionaries used to run into back in the days. Religious fanatics, the kind of people who like to burn witches. Dumb junkies whose mind cracked so badly they actually learned magic. Gothic emo, which are related to magicians only by the love of cloaks, but have some outliers that can do some cantrips. Crazy scientists playing their little games pretending to be god hard enough that they actually somewhat become one. Those boring Shaolin monks, talking about cultivation, chi, and thousand year old ginseng and holy mountains. Mournful shamans banging drums. Zombie-like 'keepers of balance' and other nonsense.
And the least expected, spectacled no-lifers that read too many light novels. Though with the state of the world, I wouldn't be surprised if their number grew enough that there would be actual magical trucks that 'Isekai' people. I know the Technocrats would laugh themselves silly if that were to happen.
We have our own problems and conflicts, but we solve them, one way or another.
And then, there are our opponents, rivals of the Order and Traditions, the Technocrats. Swaggering and mossy science fiction lovers who were once decent magicians. They're now just a rusted colossus, too concerned about their own power and worth, pretty much everyone hates them. We don't kill each other when we meet, usually anyways.
Then there are our enemies, the enemy our Order, or more like pests really, the Marauders. Magicians who have become so obsessed by their magic and became mad because of it, a pitiful sight. They were not bad people really, but madness in addition to incredible power is the reason why when a Magician meets a Marauder, they rarely part ways in peace.
Then there's the enemy of all magicians - Nefandi. I don't even want to talk about them. Let's just say that it's a very rare occasion when Traditions, Technocrats and Marauders have agreed on something.
And lastly, for me personally anyway, assholes. And ones' are about to rear its ugly head.
Going along with the old man along the Gauntlet, I didn't know that my trip would soon be plagued by the action of assholes.
I said that Umbra is everything that is not Earth, so you can just imagine the amount of things you can find there. You will find infinite parallel Earths in Umbra. You can find Hell to the ninth circle where the Devil is frozen. You can find the Paradise from which God drove Adam and Eve off of. You can find Olympus - and then mill around until you give Zeus an idea for another demigod. You can find a world where your favorite cartoon lives according to its own concepts. You can find in Umbra your favorite book come to life, exactly as you imagined it. You can find everything in Umbra.
The Orders have long chosen Umbra as our headquarters and flooded it with our own worlds. Here where there's no limits except our imagination, Magicians rule supreme.
Doissetep, a great fortress for the Order of Hermes, the invincible palace that the Order of Hermes had placed at the very center of the Forces Shard Realm. A world that embodies all the energies of all manifestations, all the power of all existence.
And it occurred to one asshole to arrange a battle there.
Do you know what will happen if you battle a bunch of masters and archmages in a world that embodies all kinds of forces operating in all existing universes?
Nothing, fucking, good.
I don't remember exactly how it happened. Me and my old man were just walking, exchanging words, the chaotic Umbra under our feet and then… A strange sound resounded in my ear. No, it was like a 'boom', or maybe 'fushshshhh', I'm not really sure.
It's just that, at some point, I realized that I was going to die. As simple as that.
I realized that whatever happened would kill me and I was at a loss.
I can teleport, I can do many very interesting things with magic. With quintessence, I know how to properly separate Aqua from Terra - a very rare skill in fact… But at that moment, with certain death looming, I was confused, I was frozen.
The Old man was not taken aback, I always knew he was good, he immediately found stable ground. I was not so lucky. I fell towards the pool of… whatever the fuck happens when reality shudders.
And then I saw it.
Do you know what you call the concentrated power of all existing universes, meta-universes, omni-universes and other things?
I don't know.
But I saw it.
And then I started falling towards it. Only for my hands to be gripped tight.
My old man saved me.
Old fool, why? He had to jump himself, to save me then, certainly dooming himself… Why? He has immense knowledge, strength, and acquaintances in high places and he threw it all away… Why? People like me are not rare. Perhaps my talent and prospect is quite good - but nothing compared to a master of the art like my old man. The scale is heavily one-sided.
And, yet that old fool still grinned at me as he threw me out of the way of my certain death into the nearest world.
In fact, thanks to him throwing me towards the nearest world was not a bad move, I survived the wave of cataclysmic… whatever. The landing was not the softest, but I at least don't have to find out what happens when you get struck by a wave of… that..
Thank you old man.
After I arrived in this New World I hit my head hard and fell into oblivion. Not the best start, I know.
I passed out long enough to start rambling to nothingness… Hahhh, when I wake up, I'll have to check my head.
Oh yeah, what was I talking about at the start? Oh that's right Numbers. Lucky and Unlucky numbers.
We, the Order of Hermes, have done a lot to make sure that our view of things is spread, and that includes our particular view of Numerology. Why? Heck if I know. To help with Pentagrams maybe?
From ancient Egypt to modern neo-paganists - our traces are many. The thing with the numbers three, seven, thirteen… that's all our doing.
But, you see, in the Hermetic tradition, the number eight is considered the most unlucky.
I used to think it was stupid, but… Born on the eighth day of the eighth month and at half eight years old already orphaned. Went to Umbra for the first time at eight o'clock in the morning after my eighteen birthday and some random asshole decided to attack one of the most defended fortresses in existence. And as a result of the battle, I lost my adoptive father, lost in Umbra in an unknown world without the ability to get out, without any possibility for help and without a penny in my pocket. I'm starting to see a pattern here.
Okay, as expected - kudos to DiscereEstVivet - he is the best.
And yeah, I made a new fanfic, let's see, how it goes.
And hey - there is a lot of chapters of this fic!
It's all on my Pat reon\rure though, so it's now 6 - chapters ahead. And this is not the end! For 1$ you get 6 new chapters right now. And even more, I made a 2$ tier, that is now 6 chapters ahead of 1$ tier, or 12 chapters ahead of public release!