New Age Au Drabble (Someone Lost the Instructions)
Hello again and welcome back guys!! I dropped literally no signs of posting this today, because I did not expect to get a bunch of inspiration for it!
This drabble takes place a month or so after Nightmare awakens, and it includes our favorite obnoxious 14 y/o! Error! *Cheering* This was supposed to have a follow-up included in the chapter as well, but I decided I was running out of steam so that'll just have to be something for a later date!
(@ancha-aus, @mutzelputz, @papiliovolens hello my friends! hope you don't mind still being tagged in these haha! (if you ever get sick of it just lemee know!))
Now I'll finally get to the story!
Fizzling. Popping. The magic never made a sound, but Error could feel the vibrations of the King’s wavering aura as he sat not far away, his palm covering one of his sockets. It was rare that Error saw him without that sickly cyan color in his socket, the eyelight altered so heavily he couldn’t pick out the purple magic that he knew should be there. It was even more rare that Nightmare would take the time to change it infront of him. This was only the second time he’s seen it done since he learned about the King’s state two weeks prior and it definitely seemed painful.
Ccino had slipped out of the King’s study, where they were sitting now, a little while ago to collect some papers from the council meetings happening elsewhere. Error saw the King’s eyelight flash a white color before he jolted and covered it, almost immediately getting back to work trying to cover it up.
“King Nightmare?” Error broke the tense air with little hesitation.
The king glanced up at him curiously. Error saw a glimpse of his eyelight, partially teal but mostly purple, peek between his fingers. It was elusive and hidden away.
“Why’d you decide to. Y’know. Change your magic?” He asked, gesturing with his free hand to one of his own sockets. The other hand was holding onto a half-woven project. Nightmare had been letting him work in the study since that night with the fireworks. Something about keeping him closer and more frequent updates made it safer for them both. Error just liked sharing the space, Nightmare was quiet and didn’t bother him. Listened when he wanted to rant.
The king grimaced a bit at the question.
“It… made the most sense. If I wish to ever face my people again, it would be damning to present myself with purple magic. Anyone would recognize that I had changed, then.” He explained loosely, and the eyelight disappeared between his fingers, once again caged away from view.
The king had told him, once, that he had been blind in his right eye since the day of his coronation. It still refused to respond. Error’s brother had been the same way since his magic incident and usually wore wrappings to keep it safe. He’d suggested to Nightmare to find a way to cover it up. Nightmare had denied the offer. Something about his wound still being frail.
“That makes sense,” Error agreed in answer, already feeling that magic start to fire up again, “But why change the magic itself? Force it? Glamours can usually mask a magical aura as long as you do them right.”
He’d been thinking about it since he first saw what the king was doing. By forcing his magic to shift colors without the intent of the soul traits stabilizing it, it could have dire consequences. Out of control magic, rejection from the body, or even magical overload. So far the King seemed to be managing well, and none of the others had brought it up, but with the King hidden away from the world and staying inside anyways, it didn’t make any sense that he’d hide it so thoroughly. Especially since the knights seem to know all about the issues too. It’s not like anyone else in the castle would be strong enough to tell the difference. He figured there must’ve been some sort of big picture he wasn’t included in yet. Grown-up stuff, as teachers used to tell him.
“Glamours… Elaborate?” Nightmare asked, unmoving from his work to get his eyelight under control.
Error sunk a bit further into the couch he was stationed on, pulling his weaving closer to his chest. He could explain a glamour spell in his sleep.
“Like, the spells that change appearance without actually doing anything to the person underneath. My old school had a bunch of rules against them. Pranks.” He said, “Usually they’re cosmetic, some humans use them for freckles or hair I think? Sometimes they can be bigger ones, costumes for festivals that change eye color or make you look bigger. It’s a hassle to reapply them, though. The ‘by the book’ version at least. I never got interested in them.” It was true. Someone made fun of him for his eyelights once, suggested a glamour spell. He hardly touched them since.
He didn’t think much of it, awaiting a response from the king explaining a perfectly reasonable and lofty reason as to why they wouldn’t work. Instead…
“You mean, you’re familiar with this other method? Glamour spells?” The King sounded curious, like when Error would explain a new idea to him.
He glanced up, and was surprised to find that the king had dropped his hand away from his socket and was staring at him with wide-eyes. Error could see the way the cyan was bubbling against the purple about a third of the way through the eyelight. It was like oil and water were trying to wrestle.
“I- I don’t know a lot, but it was part of the courses at the academy. It’s easy for skeleton monsters because we’re really magic-based. They didn’t like how I did it, though, so I stopped.” He answered. Confused.
The King jolted at that statement, his skull gaining just the slightest hint of a purple blush along the bridge of his nose. He seemed startled, at least that was what Error had gleaned that this was the face he made when news he didn’t expect arrived to him.
“I was… unaware such a method of appearance alteration existed.” He admitted then.
Error took a moment to stare at the King. Was… was he hearing this right? He’s never heard of… glamours. Does he live under a fucking rock? How could he- with all his magic- he’s so smart- and so many of his people do magic-
He remembered clearly that Nightmare had admitted to not being prepared for the magic given to him through the kingdom’s weird soul ritual, that made sense that he’d have to wing that bit, but glamour spells were part of any magic curriculum. Nightmare was rich, literally a Prince, so schooling shouldn’t have been an issue. How could he have managed to be completely oblivious to glamour spells?
“What?” Was all Error could muster. Incredulous at the statement.
The King seemed to jolt again at that. Error could practically see the gears turning in the King’s head as he stared at Error in confusion. Another expression Error had the chance to see much more often. Nightmare did a lot of thinking in this room, after all.
After a breath, he perked up and rose from his seat. He carried himself lightly across the room. The floors were hard and cold beyond the rug beneath their feet, and Nightmare’s heels clicked as he left the cozy sanctuary of the relaxing space. He moved to one of his numerous bookshelves scattered along the walls, Error watching his every step, and he tugged a few tomes from the collection into his arms. Only when he had three did he return to the carpeted floor and set the books on the table with a huff of exertion. They were old. Looked ancient too, fancy leather covers and gems carefully sewn in.
Nightmare stood tall beside the table then, gesturing to the books.
“I searched all the library and combed Nim’s records for any sort of spell which might let me change the color of my magic from an outsider’s gaze. Page 276, Page 823, and Page 48 respectively were my only options. Two of which require a regular schedule of blood sacrifice sourced from another living thing. The one I decided upon only has long-term effects if the user tries to call on their normal magic.” He explained.
The books themselves looked ancient. Back when he was asking about the tapestries, the King had told him that the last king had ruled for ages. The name Nim meant almost nothing to him, beyond the tension that her name usually brought to any room when it was spoken, but he knew that meant these had to be old. Outdated. Something his first year professors would drop onto their podiums and the dust would fly off the pages and into their face. The kind of spells they drilled into their heads never to even think about attempting because they were strictly forbidden.
Error tugged the top tome onto his lap, setting his project aside using strings hastily sent up to the rafters of the tall room. Unlike other books of this age, it didn’t give off dust plumes when he opened it, but it felt just like he imagined it would. Brittle and flaky. Just skimming to that first page, 276, revealed exactly what the king was talking about.
It was a physical transformation spell which would provide the user with an enhanced or altered form, so long as the magic they were hiding remain repressed and untouched. He was never the best at reading these old tomes, that was all his brother. Yet, this looked to him like it was a spell meant for humans. People with less magic to lose and more physical mass to work with. Monsters were made entirely of magic, so it must’ve been constantly sending kick-back.
“This says if you use magic it reverses itself and pops like a bubble.” Error said, simplifying the words in the book for his own sake. “You’ve been using this for your eyelight??”
Something had to give. These couldn’t possibly be the best books they had for him to look at… But he knew Nightmare by now. He didn’t spare any expense in pulling all-nighters or skipping meals (well, he tried at least) just to find the safest or best solutions to the problems people put in front of him. He’s pretty sure if he had a splinter and told Nightmare that the King would have a knight escort him directly to the medical wing to get examined and have it removed. He wasn’t shy about making sure his solutions were perfect. So this must’ve actually been where he ran into a dead end. These were all he could pull from.
“Yes! It far surpasses the senseless killing which the other two require and, to be frank, there isn’t much magic for me to activate in the first place. At least, not since I returned to this form.” The King replied, almost defensively. “It isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t risk harming anyone, which is what I desired.”
Mmm. Error didn’t like the cold feeling that built in his gut when Nightmare said that last bit. He didn’t contain his frown, which got an immediate reaction from the King as his brows furrowed. Still, not the battle he was trying to fight right now.
“Maybe you’re not using spells as much, sure, but your magic? It’s manifesting as an aura. That’s not something you really control.” He said, matter-of-factly. Wait, actually, hang on. He didn’t even realize he was on to something until he said that out loud. Error’s sockets widened a little as he looked over the spell again. Ohhhh that wasn’t good.
“Mage Error?” The King asked. He must’ve gotten used to Error’s thinking face too, because his shoulders were suddenly more tense where he stood.
Error took a few moments to make sure he wasn’t wrong, but…
“This spell. It hurts you when you’re applying it, doesn’t it?” He asked, not glancing up to the King. However, the small hum of guilty confirmation, accompanied by a weak ‘slightly’ was enough to confirm his suspicions. He grimaced. “The spell says it will begin to react poorly if any magic is used at all while it’s active. Because your magic never actually rests, that’s gotta mean that the only reason your skull hasn’t imploded is because the low level magic is just constantly triggering mini-aggressions across the magic field around your eyelight.”
The King’s aura had been a lot weaker ever since that thing with his goopy magic went away, Error would’ve been blind to miss that it was lower, but it wasn’t gone. It had been softer, less invasive, calming enough that he hadn’t remembered it existed until he’d just spoken. Of course it was uncomfortable, Nightmare didn’t actually ever stop using his magic.
“This is… good news. Yes?” The King said in that way that adults do, the way that Error couldn’t tell if he was actually asking a question. “By redirecting the spell’s ire I bought myself more time with it.” He sounded uncertain.
Error bit back a scoff, instead closing the book between his hands in a quick motion that caused a heavy slap to resound across the room.
“No!” He sighed. “That just means that if it backfires, now the network of magic reach for the spell is all around you instead of just in your socket. That sort of mishandling logic is how idiots get hurt.” Error insisted with frustration, setting the book on the table in front of him. It made a muffled thudding noise against the thick wooden tabletop, but neither party reacted to the sound. Instead, Error was glaring down at the book. And Nightmare- Error glanced back up to find the King glaring down at him from where he still stood. His mouth was turned to a slight frown, his good eyelight almost completely returned to that calm light purple.
The King took a breath before crossing his arms over his chest, still staring at Error.
“And what are you implying? That I was somehow reckless in my choice to pursue this spell over the others?” Nightmare questioned, his voice even. Error had seen him, very rarely, attempt to speak in authority to his knights even since he started spending time in the study. This was that tone, definitely made less intimidating by his small stature and higher voice. And that round, soft-looking skull of his.
Error felt a pang in his chest as he sat on the receiving end of this look. He wasn’t afraid. More… offended. Yeah.
“No, it was the lesser of the evils. You definitely thought about it a lot.” He said, turning his glare momentarily back to the book he’d abandoned, before his eyelights snot back up to the King. “All that thinking didn’t help you much though! It was a stupid call to even use the spell in the first place!” He snapped, throwing his hands forward at the book.
The King seemed taken aback by that. Error caught how his eyelight shrunk and his sockets twitched to open wider, ever so slightly. To his credit, he didn’t step back at all. Stood still as a statue, staring at Error.
“Mage Error!” He quickly shot back. Error just raised an unamused brow at him.
“What! I’m not wrong, it was dumb!” He replied, leaning forward a little off of the couch. “You were literally just using a spell that could hurt you really bad at any moment, and was hurting you a little bit all the time. I bet you didn’t even ask the knights about this. Half of them are magic users, and I’m pretty sure they’d side with me about how dumb a spell like that is to use. I’m definitely sure that Ccino would hate to hear that you’ve been using this stupid version when there’s a safer alternative that pretty much any monster with magic could muster!”
Error didn’t like to raise his voice, but he actually had to take a bit of a gasp of air after he was finished. He didn’t mean to go on that long, but he couldn’t believe that Nightmare had the nerve to act like he wasn’t in the wrong after handing Error a book that basically told him ‘yes, your King is attempting to make himself into a living self-destruct bomb’. How could he not be annoyed by that!
Nightmare’s fists clenched at his sides at some point during Error’s little lecture. His brow lowered into something a little less neutral.
“Mage Error, hold your tongue.” The King demanded shortly, his voice reserved. “No, I did not consult my knights. Though they are skilled with magic, none are formally trained in spellcrafting. Two of them I trained personally. The other arrived only knowing combat magic specialized for his magical prowess. None of them would have been of any help acting as council.” He explained, and Error could see him holding his chin up a bit tighter. “And I ask you not to pull Ccino into any of this. As you know, he has very low natural magic reserves, he would not know. Besides… he attempted to steer me away from this route early on, but he trusted my word.”
The bite on the last phrase was joined by a piercing glare from Nightmare. Which, again, would have been much more effective if he wasn’t actively reminding Error of an angry hamster.
Error did bite his tongue for a moment, before thinking better of it and following his gut.
“So I’m not the only one who thinks it’s a stupid choice. Good to know.” He threw the words into the open between them.
He saw the King’s face tighten a bit more. Despite the soft features, it did slightly remind him of when his brother was about to scold him for breaking the school’s potion bottles by mistake and costing them a day’s pay to replace them. Part of him was expecting the King to demand he go sit in the time-out corner and think again about speaking out against royalty like that again.
“What was I supposed to do?” Was instead what escaped the King’s mouth. It was in a warbling tone, slightly higher than the new normal. He’d heard this tone before, back when the King had visited him in his tower, that night with the fireworks.
“Riddle me that, O’ Wise Mage Error!” He insisted, now shifting on his feet. His arms reached out to swipe the heavy tomes up from the table and into his grasp. “This kingdom hasn’t had a magic academy nor royal mage for hundreds of years. My- Nim ensured all magic books from the outside were wiped from our library long before my birth. All magic in our kingdom is passed down from parent to child, or written in these tomes that are nearly as old as the kingdom itself.” He turned away from Error, hiding his expression as he stormed towards the book shelf, holding the tomes close to his chest. Beginning to shelve them again. “The only magic I was formally taught were the blood rituals meant to swear my fealty to the new God-King. I have never learned magic, I have had to discover all I knew on my own merit. On such short notice, I had to find a solution, and without my prior power these tomes were all I had! So unless you would like to contact my great grandfather and ask why he deemed it necessary to slaughter innocent magicians, or my mother to ask why I did not receive proper training, I suggest you refrain from any more mockery.”
Even as the books were returned to their rightful location, the King didn’t move away from the bookshelf. It was a space, Error hadn’t noticed prior, which was just perfectly shaded out of sight from the natural light of the windows. He couldn’t make out any expressions from that far off. Just quiet, huffing, breaths from the clearly distraught king.
Error frowned to himself. Mockery? He wasn’t mocking him. That wasn’t what he’d been doing at all.
“What you were supposed to do was ask the professional. The one you hired. Because you wanted a magic expert.” He replied, sparing barely a few breaths.
His words, much to his discomfort, brought a silence to the room once again.
Of course, maybe that wasn’t the answer the King had wanted. Maybe he wanted Error to say there was nothing he could’ve done, that he had no chance to find an alternative or ask for communications with the outside. No shot of anyone in his inner circle knowing the sort of things he needed to find out. That, by some fault in the universe, his only solution just happened to be the one that could kill him on the spot. Error just couldn’t say those things, though, because he’s sitting right here. Bragging to himself or otherwise, he knows that he’s capable. He knows he knows things. Magic things. It’s his specialty! Literally his only reason for being here at all. His brother always said Royal Mages were supposed to find magical solutions to the problems a ruler was presented with. It’s the job description, plain and simple. Nightmare should have come to him.
It hurt a little. That he didn’t do that.
“I-” The King’s voice was smaller now, and Error hadn’t realized he’d been staring a hole into the King’s back as he stood partially shrouded in those perfectly-cast shadows. “I did not want to burden you with such a task.” He practically muttered.
Error’s brow furrowed.
“It’s no big deal. I already told you, it’s one of the beginner spells, it would’ve been no problem?” He replied quickly. Why did Nightmare seem to be implying that the spell would’ve been so monumental for him to figure out? “I mean, I was kicked out of academy for dumb ‘behavioral problems’,” He air-quoted the words out of annoyance, “not because I was bad at magic.”
Nightmare seemed to flinch at that one.
“I didn’t- I don’t mean to imply that I thought little of you, Mage Error. I asked you here for the very opposite reason.” The King’s voice was a bit stronger, though he turned his skull fully away. “It’s just that… in my weakened state I have pushed so many of my responsibilities to those who I trust. It would be unfair of me to once again push a responsibility from my shoulders onto another's. Especially yours. Especially for a task I thought myself capable of completing on my lonesome.”
He gently laughed, though it sounded a bit dry and choked. “Though, obviously I’ve still not mastered the art of learning. I was always such an awful student.” Another short laugh.
This time Error was the one not quite sure how to respond. What does he say to that?
Quick. Quick. What did his brothers used to say to cheer him up? Hmm. That train of thought would’ve been helpful… if Error’s usual go-to wasn’t pranks or angry yelling and breaking things by accident with his haywire spells. It was often his brothers talking him down from the edge of a really poor decision, not lifting him up off the metaphorical ground. Error had never taken anything lying down.
“I bet you’re not that bad of a student. The teachers back at my academy would’ve loved to have you there instead of me, that’s for sure.” He declared confidently. Yeah. This was definitely the right angle to take.
At this, the King seemed to swivel his head. Error could just faintly make out some particularly light-reflecting spots trailing down the King’s cheekbones, but chose not to acknowledge them. He remembered how quick the King was to hide his tears before. He’d seemed genuinely embarrassed.
“I- My tutors would beg to differ.” He replied weakly.
Error raised a brow at that.
“And where are they now? I bet you didn't keep them around. I bet you didn’t get to choose them either.” He wagered, “Sometimes a teacher sucks and you can’t do anything about it.”
He was a little pleased with himself to see the King nod a bit to his statement.
“Yes, they are… no longer employed here due to unrelated transgressions.” He seemed to pause in thought, “But still. They taught me everything I know about operating this kingdom today, and I was only able to truly understand as the weight was thrust upon me. Nothing I did while they were alive seemed to impress them.” He said softly. His arms crossed at his chest, restingly a bit less tensely.
Error found it interesting. Alive. He’d have to ask about that one… another day. This just sounded like a classic case of a shitty, over-expecting, teacher. He’d had enough of them to know the signs.
“Well. I bet even I could teach you magic. You pick up on things super quickly and you’re probably way less of a hazard than I was when I first started casting.” He spouted.
“...You speak true?” The King voiced from his spot at the shelf. He sounded reproachful still.
Error blinked. “I mean. Yeah. you’ve been casting spells for years now without any guidance, so I bet you’d have better control over-”
“Not- not that part.” The King interrupted him. “You would be able to teach me magic?”
Oh? Ohhh.
To be completely honest? Error hadn’t processed he’d even said the words. It was a funny idea to him. World’s worst magic student trying to teach the King of Orchard, the “God-King”, magic? It had been a little jab at himself about how bad of a teacher he imagined he’d be himself. He did NOT mean to imply that he had any right to be teaching a King magic. Especially not the basics. Which he… never really mastered himself. He never needed to, his magic was just too ready to move into the more complex focuses. He should not-
“Yeah. Of course I could.” His huge ego moved before his brain could think to stop him. “I’d be happy to. It’d be fun!” Ohhh shut up, shut up!
His internal panic was obviously not translating onto his face, thank the stars, because he saw the way the King’s frame lightened in the shadows. How he pulled the sleeves of his tunic to cover his hands so he could wipe at his damp tears. Error’s stupid offer had obviously made the King happy. He couldn’t go back on it now!
It took a few moments before Nightmare seemed to deem himself ready to return to the table and couches. When he did, it was with nervous movement like a spooked cat. The bottom rim of his sockets still looked a bit dew-y and his smile had still not returned, stuck in a tentative frown. He seemed to be staring at Error, and Error watched him carefully in turn.
“Thank you, Mage Error. Truly.” Nightmare reached.
Error forced a grin onto his face.
“This is what I’m here for, my King.” He said, trying not to give away how deeply he was regretting attempting to joke with the King. “Just, next time, don’t do the dangerous spells without asking your resident expert?”
The King nodded at that, the smallest hint of a smile appearing back onto his skull as he returned to his seat.
Just in time, too. The door to the study clicked open from somewhere behind him.
He’d completely forgotten that Ccino was out finding paperwork.
