The Akhapost Conspiracy Chapter 3 The iScroll Touch

By Jonathon Bailey

“Good morning,” the teacher said, his creaky voice making the second word sound more like moaning. “Please open your scrolls to page one-fifty-four.”

Barry unfurled the scroll he’d been using for the past week. It was the same size as an ordinary A4 sheet of paper, but 50% longer. He pressed down on one of the runes at its top, magic ink forming into a menu not too dissimilar to text editors found on digital devices back home. It even appeared to scroll down as he wrote. It was akin to a laptop that weighed no more than paper, and meant no heavy textbooks to carry around. Joy! The same could not, unfortunately, be said for most of Barry’s experiences with magic so far: ever since he’d first woken up in this crazy world, not a single thing had been predictable.

Breakfast had been served in the cafeteria, and Random hadn’t been kidding about the food. When your bacon roll tries to eat you back, well, it was one reason to consider vegetarianism. That is, until you feel the spinach's tendrils wrap around your neck.. There was also no toothpaste – he was meant to use magic to get rid of the plaque. This was rather complicated when he didn’t have magic. Fortunately, Barry was a man who knew how to be resourceful - with some coconut oil, peppermint oil, and (what was hopefully) baking soda, he fashioned his own toothpaste.

The thing that annoyed him most was that the world had already achieved perfect sustainability, but they did so by violating E=MC 2 and vanishing all waste into nothing. So now he was the only one generating pollution, and a (big) part of him really hated himself for it.

Reflecting on this proves I can’t even grasp basic magic - how am I meant to use it to kill Akhapost? There must be some kind of logic to make sense of all this-

Barry startled as a wave of water splashed onto his head.

“Someone wasn’t paying attention in class,” Random smiled. There were giggles among some of the other students. Everyone else was levitating blobs of water above their heads, blobs like which Barry had apparently failed to deflect.

“It’s not funny,” he groaned.

“This isn’t Defensive Magic for nothing.”

Water trickled to the floor as Barry stood up. “I need a change of clothes.”

“Where in the world did you come from to learn pyromancy but not how to dry your clothes?”

Easy. I didn’t come from this world.

“I’ll learn,” Barry said. “Eventually.”

“It’s always raining out in Nerdtown,” Random said. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Nerdtown? Is that seriously what the city out there is called?”

“Of course! It’s named after renowned magician Senõr Da Nerd!”

***

Barry was grateful he didn’t share any more classes with Random for the rest of the day. He was on his way to the cafeteria for some lunch when a man dressed in latex and leather blocked his path. He was a familiar man. One of the people from the lab, perhaps? What was his name again? Something to do with some Norse god?

“Hathor?” Barry tried.

“You have a keen memory, Bartholomew,” the man said. “That is good. Do you need anything?”

“I was about to get lunch.”

Feed me, his stomach agreed.

“I asked out of courtesy, not because I cared. Now come, it’s time you told us about your science.” Hathor said.

Barry was about to complain, but remembered that his way home largely lay in this man’s hands, so staying on his good side was a must.

“Fine.” he acquiesced.

Hathor had spared only 5 minutes on his introduction to the lab when Barry had first arrived in Ahkane, so the mysterious creatures stuck up all over the place looked just as creepy as they had last time.

“Alchemy is one of your classes, correct?” Hathor asked.

“Yeah,” Barry muttered. “It doesn’t make any sense to me. At least the teacher’s nice. She’s so bright and bubbly, the complete opposite of Miss Trunchbull.” The reference went completely over Hathor’s head of course, but it was the little things giving Barry entertainment that made this hell bearable.

There were many jars of colourful liquids along one wall, many displayed on wooden racks or being suspended by their finishes. The first potion that Hathor picked up was coloured grey.

“This turns your skin into that of a chameleon’s, allowing you to camouflage against any surface. Unfortunately, being invisible doesn’t have any benefit in our war against a monster who can sense anything living.”

“How does that work?” Barry asked.

“Like everything else does here, Bartholomew. Magic.”

As if to prove a point, Hathor popped the cork and took a swig. After putting the potion back Barry could already see his skin starting to change, but he wasn’t fooled.

“I can still see you.”

“Well, I still have my clothes on…” Hathor said as he began peeling down the latex around his waist.

Barry waved his hands in front of him. “Wait, no. You don’t have to do that, I don’t want to see your… you know…”

“You won’t see it. It would be camouflaged, just like the rest of me.”

Barry tried not to show how uncomfortable he was feeling. Instead, he glanced around for an avenue to shift the conversation onto. He pointed at a potion that contained a liquid coloured a very vibrant pink. “What does that one do, turn your skin into pink gel?” “That’s soap.”

Something normal was the last thing he’d expected, but he’d take it. “Is it the normal kind of soap, fat mixed with an alkali?”

“I do not understand, but I consider this a good sign. The whole reason we brought you here is for your expertise on science, after all. Do you have potions in your world?”

“Not like these,” Barry murmured. “What you call alchemy, we call chemistry. Things like putting two different liquids together and having them fizz, or change colour, or explode…”

“Explode?”

“Yeah, chemistry can be dangerous stuff. Acid could eat through your skin –”

“Then it sounds like this chemistry could be key to the defeat of Ahkapost,” Hathor said. As the man started prodding Barry with questions about the branch of science, Barry made a mental note to never bring up radioactivity.