Madeline was a busy girl. She found her place in the City of Man quite quickly, and once she built up a routine, she stuck to it. It made her happy, far happier than she had ever been back at home. In the mornings, she attended the daily 'magic study' sessions. The White-Haired Witch let the groups diversify significantly, to try to hunt down what would work and what wouldn't work for each person. She insisted that they try to get as many people practicing the "same magic" as possible, but they could hardly seem to get more than two or three practitioners that lined up closely enough to learn from each-other. For instance, Gen and Mister Moses found common ground in drawing mana from groups, as long as everyone felt some sort of unity. It was too abstract for her to really get a grip on- what made for 'unity'? How did they "feel" each-other's mana, let alone concentrate it- even if it was quite similar to the trail she herself was trying to blaze.

It could be said that even different magic was similar and even magic 'of the same type' branched out significantly. One of the children figured out how to channel their mana through 'tic-tac-toe', for instance. Despite how inane and ridiculous that was, the effects it generated and even the way the magic operated were quite similar to Merrilyn's lauded 'Magic Assembly'. Similarly, despite how Gen and Mister Moses were nearly indistinguishable in methodology, they had dramatically different effects, with Gen using manipulating group mana to 'buff' certain members as necessary, while James linked everyone together somehow, making a number of people operate like one body. It fit with the personalities, too- James was a great guy, but he had always given her 'cult leader' vibes. It was a small miracle that he hadn't forayed into politics on Earth. Gen she didn't know as well, but he preferred to be 'in charge', and even if she was more or less tactically illiterate, she could guesstimate some applications of his ability on the battlefield.

Back home, Madeline had been a nobody. She had a "talent" for mathematics, but she never liked it. It was just a realistic goal for a realistic person to pursue, a long life in theoretical math and academia. Her parents quite insisted she abandon her silly little hobby and ignore how much she hated the subject, and she had hated them a little bit for it. Still, no matter how much she was stifled by their expectations or miffed at the way they lorded over her, she had been terrified when she was stolen away to the New World without them- they were her parents, and they were always there for her before, so why not now? When giant rodents started hunting them down through the huge tunnel system that had been 'Pod 5', she was just relieved that they wouldn't die horribly like almost everyone else did, that she wouldn't have to hear their screams or see their anguish as they were torn limb from limb like she had with so many others. Honestly, she would probably never forget the gratitude she felt towards James and company for getting her- and the few others who had survived- out of that hellscape, freaky mind-meld powers or no.

She had spent most of her time in the group making herself useful. She had skinned rats and frog-wolves alike, and even killed a few. She got a stab in on a literal fucking dinosaur and she was one of the few left to brag about it. Even the locals were impressed whenever she told that story. When they got into town, the standing orders went from 'be useful' to 'be yourself, it will make you useful', and when she heard that, she knew that for once, she was free. There was no need to go do complex math, there were actual engineers in the city who were happy to do that, nor a need to go help hunt down monsters. She started walking before she knew where she was going, and she started singing before she knew what she was doing. It was scary at first, and considering most of the crowd was both 'drunk' and 'still chafing under military occupation', she was sure she'd get booed- or worse. When they actually started singing along to the shitty little pop-song she sang acapella, she had been floored. The audience wasn't just receptive, they seemed ecstatic to have something to listen to. Eventually, she had a pretty big crowd of humans and nonhumans alike, listening to her and drinking, having a generally good time. At one point, James had even convinced a bunch of guys to give her a backbeat to accompany the songs. They were drunk enough the timing was almost always off, but she gave it her best go, and they ate it up.

That was the start of her 'routine'. She sang almost the whole night before running off to go sleep, and it was the first time she hadn't had a nightmare in months. They had been plaguing her on Earth, too, even before she had found out what human insides look like as human outsides. She spent mornings getting the tune and practicing with mana, learning to focus it in the throat or mouth or tongue. To her relief, her voice even stopped sounding hoarse- she could sing for hours on end if she so chose and still be able to talk in more than a whisper the next day. When the mornings' magic classes with Merrilyn ended, she would spend the afternoon mingling with others and making connections. After an appropriate amount of face-to-face with fans, she would spend the evenings singing, always trying to push her vocalizations to the next level. She even started to compose her own songs, trying to work in choruses and refrains from the Common Language, which helped her familiarize with it and excited the natives quite a bit. After her evening performances were over, she went off to her room, studying the notes Gen had distributed on the Common Language and its structure until she was too tired to manage it, and then she slept like a baby. No nightmares. Rinse and repeat.

It was almost the best she could hope for, except for one bit- the magic. She really felt like she had the right idea, but it just wouldn’t work. In her sparse spare time after classes and math practice was over, she had spent most of it playing VORPGs, that was 'Virtual Online Role Playing Games' for the uninitiated, as a Bard. It was her calling, to make people feel better through music, and Barding had just taken that slightly more… literally. She had been excellent, and every group she was with quite appreciated the fact her singing had been tolerable or even excellent compared to most Joe Blow bards running around. When they said she needed to find a magic 'suited for her', she had been terrified it'd end up being programming- what with years spent doing math and such- but that had been a bust. To her chagrin, so was channeling mana through song. She didn't know what else she could 'be', though, so she had to be doing something wrong. Based on the success stories thus far, the immaterial system that governed "magic" seemed to branch off in a few different ways. The first branch was how the spell drew its mana. Most people were classifying it as 'group mana' versus 'solo mana', with solo mana magic only scaling with one's own supply, like Merrilyn's magic, while 'group mana' was more like Gen's or James'.

Madeline had a hunch it had more to do with how mana was levied. External mana had a set of conditions to be used willy nilly, namely taking charge of a region. At the same time, one guy in particular had figured out how to screw with plants, although his control stopped at 'growing rapidly' at the moment. He had been a gardener back home, and he was the only one with this power, adding more credence to the initial guess that access to magic had a lot to do with who or what you are. More importantly, his own mana didn't seem to be taxed by the act- which challenged the notion that you 'needed control' to manipulated external mana. Ayala, the muscle-wizard, spoke at length about how her Darth Vader style powers came from simply visualizing mana as invisible 'arms' for her to use and abuse, and also about how limited her pursuit of magic had become as a consequence of a malformed style. Even with the entire city's collective supply, she had a very limited amount of things she could do with it. Even just figuring out how to make the orb of darkness around the Hanging Prison had taken her years and required quite a few sacrifices as far as her psyche was concerned- simply because it couldn't be translated into Punch-ese. On another note, as horrible as that sounded, it gave Madeline hope. Who cared if she wasn't 'supposed' to be some sort of magical Bard? By God, she would make it work, regardless of whatever anyone thought. It was that thought that kept her resolute on the path to be the best damn singer this New World had ever seen.

Things had mellowed out a lot. In the first days in their new home, people had been frenzied to help develop the city, or to figure out 'magic', but it wasn't like every day could be a new discovery. Honestly, she was impressed they made as much progress as they did. They were already half-way to a working sewer system and it hadn't been but a week or two. Things civilizations had taken centuries or even millennia to develop were getting knocked out by the day, especially when they initially arrived. Today, things were quiet. The vast majority of the hundred-something human residents were gathered in the hall, practicing or desperately studying their 'talents'- including Madeline herself. No matter how much she struggled, she couldn't force the mana to carry out. As minute after grueling minute crept by, she switched it up, trying again to hit that 'special spot' that Mister Moses kept talking about, where everyone was sharing their energy. That didn't seem to work, but she felt closer just a bit closer. It wasn't like math, where if she was left in the dark, it was simply mumbo-jumbo to her. Considering she felt that way about magic, that seemed almost ironic.

That was, it was a relaxed evening until one of the soldier boys she had gotten to know- they'd been frequenting her 'concerts' ever since the first day- had a breakthrough. It was Jim, one of her biggest fans, and he had succeeded where she hadn't. People quite underestimated the muscle-heads, writing them off, bit Jim was as clever as a snake. He had ignored any and all inkling of using magic to enhance his aim or swordplay, and even ignored Ayala's strange route. Instead, he set out to making a physical change to his body. He had been raised Taoist, the strange religion of his family. When she had chatted him up, he had let slip that he was one of the few dogs of war still left- part of the reason he was one of the few people still enlisted in any army was because his family had strong military tradition, tied closely with what appeared to be their religious concept of the 'humble soldier' built up since the late 20th century. He had been training to be a soldier from the starting line and unlike her, he had been happy with his path. At one point she had convinced him that she was quite interested in what he was trying to accomplish, sitting about introspectively and calmly, unlike the rest. He said it was a long story, but he gave her the short version.

His religion had a great deal of mysticism cooked into it from early history, and while many converts and more 'modern' practitioners wrote a lot of it off, they still taught about it, emphasizing the importance of the virtues extolled rather than the shamanic traditions. In this 'New World', he was hoping to recreate some of it, starting with the concept of the "Neidan"- the body as a cauldron. Rather than let some 'internal mana' float around god knows where, he tried to form what he called 'dantian' throughout his body. He talked at length about how cool that would be, his 'tough military guy' façade breaking for once. Apparently, he had been read a few translated "Classics" written in the early 21st century at bedtime when he was an impressionable kid, and he was using this opportunity to try to capture some of the things that had fascinated him then. The only problem was that no matter what anyone did, it was really hard to force a legitimate physical change of any kind to manifest. 'Plant Guy' was about the closest thing they had, after Ayala's strange bubble.

The guy had done it, though. He had brought his dreams to life. He was quite visibly excited, none of the usual stoicism present anywhere in him. She spotted the change before most everyone else did, but when he started floating, most people started to take notice. Her eyes must have been a mile wide, because Jim noticed her gawking and grinned at her. He even gave her a little 'thumbs up', which drew some attention her way, as well. As large as the room was, a big guy like Jim walking through the air got just a bit of attention. Merrilyn even applauded, giving him a mechanical clap so repetitive and emotionless it set Madeline's spine to tingling. She doubted anyone else had quite the level of auditory focus she had, and maybe she was overreacting, but it was creepy. Jim floated about, taking broad steps through the air. He had describe to her quite a few times the obsession with flight in those various stories. In many, they used fantastical implements to fly- such as flying swords- while in others, they could just fly on their own. The way that he was floating about now was surreal, and judging by the lack of a sword-surfboard, he must have settled on emulating the latter type. Maybe it just was the latter type- no emulation required. He nearly conked his head on the ceiling once, but the flight was pretty smooth- until he fell to the floor. In all, it had only been about ten or fifteen seconds, but he was out of juice. He doubled over, coughing up thick globs of blood. A few people ran over, hollering for bandages or medicine of some sort, but he waved them off gently, stumbling to his feet. He had an odd expression on his face, which sat somewhere between a grimace and laughter, and he looked a little worse for wear, but he didn't seem to be dying- at least not visibly. His insides were another matter, but if he had bad internal damage, there was little they could do for him.

At least as far as she could tell, Jim had succeeded in his goal. He had done something way harder than what she set out to do, and he finished it before her. The room shifted and chattered, the most alive it had been in a good bit. His military buddies- and James, who had somehow slipped into their in-group despite never being military- ran over, and they clapped him on the back and jostled him, raucous celebration. One guy looked miffed, pulling out a handful of the unmarked copper coins that were used as currency in the region and practically forcing it into Jim's hands. She chucked at that- it wasn't a good idea to make bets where magic was involved. Others followed suit, crowding in and asking no doubt a million questions. Kat was looking positively glowing, and Madeline had a pretty good idea of why. If she put two and two together on Jim's methodology, it meant her own vanity project had merit. Kat had apparently become proficient at manipulating air in little ways, wind magic largely focused on speeding her up. Putting the wind in her sails, so on and so forth, which would have been great if she could fucking walk. The story was tragic enough she had felt like strangling Ayala, no matter how 'compliant' the bitch was, when Kat had finally explained how the fight went down and spoke about the painful days that followed. Ever since, Kat had been desperately trying to learn how to heal the nerves and vertebra. She spent every morning channeling copious amounts of both internal and external mana into her lower back. If Jim could grow organs through a bit of grit and a lot of belief, then maybe she could will her back to be fixed. In contrast to her high mood, Merrilyn and Gen were arguing, which was quite the rare sight. Despite the fact that the White Witch was… of questionable sanity, she actually fell in line with the community- and Gen, as defacto leader- quite easily. She wondered what it was about, and then promptly realized she didn't want to know. Something about the way Merrilyn kept turning to look at Jim like he was a lab-mouse made her more than a little bit concerned for the guy's wellbeing.

This was just another thing they didn't understand. Everyone was tapping into this 'magic', but it could be programmed, it could be used like Steroids, and they had yet to see it defined properly. Every definition thus-far had been inaccurate, wrong, or needed more context, and it was context they didn't have access to. Things like what Jim had just accomplished blew everything they knew out of the water, and there were fair few places to turn. Goblins were no help, since they were nonmagical as a rule, a lot like the Gomen. Ayala was a notable exception, part of an already intensely powerful race- what with their insane musculature and strange physiology. The Warden's own policy on magic was more or less guesstimation, much like their own. They explained that it was as rare for a 'fully magical race' to be placed this far towards the Outer Reaches as it was for a 'nonmagical race' to be placed towards the Apex. Many stories were told of those races, the great and terrible monstrosities who were simply too strong to be placed with the rest. Some had even risen to challenge the 'First Ones', who were so intimately magical they were considered to be all-powerful. In fact, stories were told about Goblins too, who had been one of those races. She wasn't quite sure how they had been yet, since they seemed so cute and friendly and weak. Contrasting no small number of RPGs, they were friendly little buggers, and intensely respectful to humans. They hadn't so much as looked at her the wrong way, which was more than she could say for a few of the human guys. Ignoring that tangent, the real point was that the only other race in the area who were naturally magical were the Kaenids, and they were dangerous as all hell. Both the Gomen and the Goblins had been quite insistent that we avoid them at all costs, since the Kaenids were quite a bit more violent than the average resident of the New World. Considering the fact that almost everything outside the city had tried to eat her? That was high praise. Kat had described the one that had massacred their Pod as well, and it didn't sound pretty.

Netya, captain of the Guard, burst in through the doors, hollering about "the Scaled Ones approaching" and "humans being chased". He looked positively terrified, contrasting strongly his usually grumpy demeanor. It had been odd how only their group had arrived from the summons- they had been quite certain more people were alive. At the same time, she didn't like the sound of 'the Scaled Ones'. Considering the train of thought she had just been on… Madeline swore under her breath, shouting in English that they were under attack. Not everyone else had started Common Language training, much to their detriment. Most just kept mana in their ears and tongue. The room swirled into panicked motion as people ran. Many ran for the armory, while others- accomplished 'Magicians', mostly- ran for the front door. Despite how peaceable and friendly things had been, it looked like the real world was hunting them down. For all of her relief at leaving the Floodplains, something deep in her missed this. Things were going to get real simple, real quick, and she'd be fighting for something that belonged to her- and her friends, her new 'family'. They were unified in this, at least. She saw some panic on faces as they rushed by, but more frequently, she saw determination- and excitement. Trouble was coming their way, and trouble was where the fun was, even if it meant many of them wouldn't live to see the next sunrise.

They were going to war.