Intellectual Property Rights

Though it pained him to admit, Tomita still needed etherdrop to put him to sleep each night. The worst of the physical detox was beyond him, but his spirit was still unmoored. He had been alive for nearly four weeks since he killed himself. In those weeks, his relationship with Izhari had softened noticeably. A quiet understanding of shared misery had allowed them to relate to each other, even if the misery had been born of a thousand different experiences and broken dreams. Now, they were slightly more comfortable with one another, and Tomita, for the most part, was settling into a routine.

Still, that’s all his existence was. Routine. His full commitment to file organization, reading every tome, and helping Izhari train, all while running away from his surreal new reality, meant his mental state was becoming strained. Burnout was swiftly approaching.

On that particular night, deep in the silence of the darkness, his dirtiness was finally starting to tear at his patience. A lack of shoes had meant that he had existed barefoot for nearly a month, with grime and dirt collecting on the soles of his feet every day until he washed them at night. It was enough to drive any dignified person, much less a Japanese person, insane.

Now, as he lay on the ground of the hut, trying to distract himself from his rising heart rate, he focused on their recent lessons regarding sending people to different locations. Slightly similar to the portal Izhari had created to send the hunters over the ledge and to the teleportation crystal, these spells focused on actually teleporting someone from one visible location to another.

Izhari, ever the masochist, insisted on testing it on herself first after several instances of glitching bushes and trees across the glade.

She had succeeded, to their awe, but doing so felt like sending herself through a vice. After she glitched from one side of the stream to the other, she fell to the ground and spat up a large volume of blood. It took her days to recover. They decided such a spell would need quite some time to work towards.

Izhari spoke in the darkness, pulling his thoughts back to the present.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Tomita turned to see her facing him. The scars in her eyes glowed faint hints of blue in the darkness, and he could see that she was looking past him, but in his direction.

“You’re overwhelmed with something.”

Tomita crossed his arms for comfort and exhaled.

“Feeling restless. I think it’s all settling in. It’s strange, isn’t it?” He asked.

“Did your world believe in life after death?” Izhari asked.

“Yes, but nothing ever like this.”

Indeed, this was far from any story or ancient wisdom Tomita had heard in a shrine, temple, cathedral, or mosque. As Tomita lay there, he couldn’t take his eyes off his bare feet.

“I think it’s my feet, actually.”

“Hm?” Izhari asked.

“In my world, in my culture especially, cleanliness for feet was essential. Maintain cleanliness in your home space as well. We wore foot coverings when we were in the world, and took them off at the doorways of our homes when we returned.”

Izhari turned slightly to him.

“I don’t have any foot coverings now, and I think it’s driving me crazy…” Tomita admitted.

“You need… boots? Is that what they’re called?” Izhari asked.

Tomita smiled.

“Boots would be good.”

Almost immediately, Izhari sat and crawled towards his feet, patting along as she went. Tomita leaned up onto his palms. Her paws reached his bare feet. Without a word, she began to pat them as though trying to figure out their shape.

“D-do you need me to describe them to you?” asked Tomita.

“This would be easier for me to visualize. Just stay still.”

Her fingers grazed along the contours of his arches and toes, down to his heel.

“It’s um… It's inverted on each foot. That big toe is on the inside and it tapers down…”

“Where does your foot bend?” she asked.

He guided her paws to his ankles and his toes.

“Here and here.”

After a few more awkward, silent moments, Izhari sat back and began to mutter quiet words to herself.

To Tomita’s absolute bewilderment, his feet began to glow. Strange, armored boots began to craft themselves from the nothingness and onto his feet. Tiny strands of light wove across his toes and heels as they knitted the remaining pieces of footwear into reality.

He had boots.

“Wow! Izhari, that’s incredible! Did you make that out of nothing?!” Tomita asked in honest wonder.

“Yes. Most old magic is just about manipulating reality to your will. I imagined a reality where you had boots, so now you do.”

“Are they like… stitched to my feet?” Tomita asked.

“No, you should be able to remove them, though I don’t know what all goes into that. I based it on images I have seen in memories.”

Tomita sat in wonder and moved his feet. The boots were snug but bent with ease. They felt as though they were made of leather with metal bracing. To his quiet relief, he realized that they could be removed. He slid one off and held it in his hands for inspection. All the while, Izhari was crawling back to her bed.

“You’re a very talented maji, Izhari,” said Tomita.

“Thank you,” she replied as she turned away from him and sighed.

Her tail flitted on the ground a few times before curling over her leg.

“We’ll need to go into town soon for food. I might need to make you more vestments so you look less conspicuous,” she added.

True, he was currently a human in strange, tattered work clothes, now with magical armored boots at the ends of his trousers, with a half-exposed brain. Even in a realm as fantastical as this, that might stand out. But Izhari’s mana essence was precious and still replenishing. He did not want to drain her further.

“Maybe just a cool cloak to drape over myself? Oh! With a cool hood!” Tomita proposed with moderate excitement.

Several days later, it was time to go to the town Izhari had mentioned. This town was located on another island, large enough to accommodate a few thousand residents. As they prepared to leave, Tomita’s nerves began to intensify at the prospect of re-entering the strange world beyond the hut. Their small island had been a relative sanctuary in these weeks, but they were almost out of food, so it was necessary.

“How do you buy things here?” Tomita asked as he pulled his cloak over his shirt.

“We trade memories for goods and services. The point of life was once to share and gain as much knowledge as possible. So that became our currency. There was no need for scarcity if maji could create a reality where no one was hungry. After he broke the world, he more or less kept that. Only now, the memories and knowledge are captured by the memory crowns and sent to him, so he can truly know everything. Or, so I’ve heard.”

Suddenly, the collections of books meant even more. They were the secrets of a world long lost, but they could also serve as currency in the exchange of wisdom if needed.

“I don’t know what to trade…” said Izhari.

Leather-bound spines peered out at Tomita as he thought of what could be traded. It was unlikely they would want to trade ancient or banned wisdom if they were trying to keep a low profile. Then he remembered some of her feedback as he had been organizing everything.

“You said most people probably don’t know filing and organization like this?” he asked.

“No. Such ideas were destroyed. Most leave their goods in piles.”

Tomita clicked his tongue in slight judgment.

“Blegh. It’s like the Dark Ages. So inefficient and cluttered. ...Maybe that’s what I trade!” he offered.

“You?” she asked.

“Yes! I can trade my knowledge of file systems. How does it work? The trading?” he asked.

Izhari seemed hesitant, but after a brief pause, she relaxed slightly.

“It’s… you touch a Lexicon conduit. The Lexicon is the foundational system of magic. Once, all mages and spells were documented there. Now, it’s just a recording system. You touch it, then speak your wisdom. If it is truly yours and not tainted, it will be recorded.”

Tomita nodded as though he understood, but he was once again absolutely lost. Regardless, this seemed doable.

“Okay, then how does that convert to us receiving goods?” he asked.

“The memory crowns.”

“The things you mentioned before? That you weren’t wearing?” he asked.

“Yes. Almost everyone wears one. Once your wisdom is accepted, anyone you engage with will automatically possess your wisdom and recognize that it originated from you. It’s hard to explain, but the Lexicon simply tells them it is yours. A good memory or bit of wisdom should cover us for a few weeks,” said Izhari.

The idea was very unusual to Tomita, but he felt like he grasped the basis. However, it didn’t sit well that such a groundbreaking, world-changing file system concept would only earn them a few orders of food. Tomita mulled over the challenge a little more, then a cunning, ruthlessly corporatist idea snuck into his mind.

“I think I can do something even better…” he said.

“What?”

“I’m going to introduce another system. One that will keep us getting paid for quite some time. I just hope it works!” Tomita said with a hint of concern.

“What are you going to do?” Izhari asked.

“I’m going to introduce copyrights and patents to this world…”