“Crystal Mind”
I took on political satire. Using orcs and fairies. (a.k.a. AI meets the world of magic.)
This is another NYC Midnight story that I’m posting in its submitted form. The fact that it got an Honorable Mention is much more than I expected considering the genre was…political satire.
I had no idea where to start when given this genre. Utterly baffled.
I also needed “a good deed” and “a glazier,” and thus I came up with this utterly ridiculous story of a fairy going to the town hall to work a job and instead getting stuck in the middle of orc siblings arguing about AI “crystal mind.” It clocks in at ~1200 words, and the feedback said I could’ve expanded my descriptions of the place. Yeah, sure…except that I was trying to just get something in by the deadline
“It’s ingenious!”
“It’s certainly…something,” the orc allows, but her pinched brows read more as “troubled” than “enthused,” which seems to be what her companion is going for.
If Alex were to guess, he’d say the two were siblings, but it might just be the faces they make at one another. Not that he’s here to stare at these two orcs. He’s here to work…once he figures out where exactly he’s supposed to be.
Alex is late. He’s always late. He’s always been late, and he’ll always be late, and it doesn’t help that the city’s town hall is made for bigger folk. He’d gone the wrong way, nearly been trampled, and finally been pointed in the right direction by a nice old troll with the thickest glasses he’d ever seen, only to come across this orc dispute—he’s seen enough disputes to know that’s where this is going.
Still, he’ll need to know which antechamber to start in, which means asking the sole occupants of this particular room.
He takes a couple of steps forward and clears his throat, until finally one of them looks down at him—the troubled one. “Hello. Can I help you?”
Her companion steps in, and the masculine pronouns of the common tongue roll thickly off the other orc’s tongue. Honestly, Alex isn’t great with orcs. “Are you a male fairy?” the orc asks, scoffing, which hopefully answers the why to Alex’s previous thought. “Never mind. You’ll understand what I mean, even if she doesn’t.”
“Um. I’m here for my job…?”
“Have you ever wanted to be an artist?” Before Alex can respond, the orc continues, “I bet even you have all these ideas in your head that you want to express, and these artists must have infinite amounts of free time to do this stuff, right?”
Alex frowns. “I think they just spend the time they have practicing.” He sees the other orc, the female, nod in agreement, while glaring at the male’s back. On that, he adds, “By the way, I’m Alex, the glazier? And you are?”
“Victor.” The orc puts out a meaty hand which Alex is afraid to shake. “What’s a glazer?”
“Glazier,” puts in the other. “I’m Verity, by the way. Shake his hand or he’ll never stop asking.”
“Victor,” Alex says, and he winces as the orc “gently” squeezes his hand, giving it two quick, vigorous pumps. Thankfully, Verity doesn’t try to do the same. He looks between them, but it’s Victor who has taken the lead.
“Verity is my sister. She’s just jealous.” He takes a moment to gesture to himself and Alex nods as if he understands. “You seem smart, for a fairy,” Victor says, and keeps talking as if no insult was implied. “Art, right? It’s a lot of work. But this isn’t just about art. You can do all kinds of things. Just humor me.”
Victor puts an arm out like he’s going to wrap it around Alex’s shoulders, lead him somewhere, but the wings must confuse him and he’s forced to rethink it; he gives Alex’s arm a nudge to lead him into another part of the building. Alex could’ve ducked, but he’s not great at telling people no, so he pretends this is a favor. Which Alex would definitely do, because Alex is a nice fairy who does favors. Today, he can “humor” this orc (like he has a choice when he’s bein bodily moved from room to room).
“Look at this.” Victor pulls a crystal from his pocket and his tusks stretch his lips wide in a grin. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”
“A…crystal?” Alex looks back and wishes Verity were joining them. He doesn’t know either of these orcs, but he gets the sense she wouldn’t start physically dragging him around, especially when he has work to do. “I have magic,” Alex suggests, like it’ll get Victor to rethink whatever this is. “I’ve seen a lot of crystals and I’m sure this one is—”
“Just watch!” Victor lets go of Alex and points to the walls. “See these paintings?”
“Yeah…?”
Victor holds the crystal up between his two fingers. “Crystallize,” he says. He winks at Alex as the crystal spins, emitting light that travels over the walls in seconds. “Which one do you like best?”
It takes Alex a second to realize this question is directed at him. “The…” He points. “That one. With the hippogriff.”
“What else do you like?” Victor presses.
“The one with the pink clouds?”
Victor says, “Crystal, create a painting of a hippogriff flying through a sky of pink clouds. Transform.”
Victor points the crystal towards a blank spot of wall and Alex watches as a painting appears…except no one painted it. It’s pretty impressive until he looks at it a little closer.
“Is this some kind of mimicry magic?” Alex asks. The clouds look almost exactly like the ones in the other painting, if not quite the right color. The hippogriff wasn’t flying, so the wings in this look awkwardly stretched, and Alex catches sight of a flying griffon in another painting, noting how the wings are similar to that one, even if the angle is all wrong. Looking at this new “painting” makes him a little queasy.
“No, no, it’s learning,” Victor corrects. “But what do you think? I made a cool painting without ever picking up a stupid paintbrush.”
“Because you were too lazy to try,” Verity calls, and Alex is glad of her interruption. “This magic isn’t right.”
“See what I mean about jealous?” Victor mutters to Alex. He points to a bookshelf. “Want to see me write a novel?” He shakes the crystal tantalizingly.
“What exactly is this…magic?” Alex asks, but he doesn’t want to know the answer.
“Just something new,” Victor says. “We call it Crystal Mind. Because the crystal uses its mind to make whatever you want. Isn’t it amazing?”
“How…? Who, um. Who came up with this?”
“Some elves,” Victor replies. “So you know it’s good. It’s going to change everything. And the best part is all the magic is stored here in Crystal, so even non-magic users will be able to access it.”
“And the elves are alright with this?” Alex tries to wrap his head around it. “I thought elves said all magic had a price and it needs to be used with care.”
Victor makes a face like he’s eaten something sour. “Well—”
“Dark elves. Dark elves came up with these crystals and started giving them away for free. Dark elves are called ‘dark’ for a reason, even though they’re the palest of the bunch,” Verity mutters.
“Dark elves?” Alex repeats.
“Because they want everyone to fulfill their dreams!” Victor argues. “I would never be able to create anything without Crystal Mind. I used it all the time.”
“And you wonder why the garden is wilting?” Verity accuses.
“She’s right,” Alex says. “All magic has a cost. If you’re using this, it’s probably leaching energy from whatever other sources it can. We fairies are great gardeners,” he adds, in case that means something to them.
Verity’s grin is less tusk-y than her brother’s. “And you know magic, too. I’ve always thought fairies should get more credit.”
“Isn’t it embarrassing being a male fairy?” Victor snaps.
Verity crinkles her eyes. “Sorry, he gets jealous.”
Victor sputters for a moment before finally glaring at Alex, who suddenly feels particularly small. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“You’re right,” says the glazier, fluttering his wings. “Glass ceilings don’t make themselves.”
“Glass ceiling?” Victor repeats. “That must be for my sister’s office.”
The “glass ceiling” bit was all I had at first with the “glazier” and “political satire” prompts, but that version of the story would’ve been better suited for a 100-word challenge…