The Chronicle of Viv, Week 1
Monday, Sept. 5

I’m writing this under protest.

So let’s be clear. This isn’t a diary. This isn’t my deepest, darkest secrets, spilled out onto the page so that I can visualize my dreams. I don’t have a vision board. I have a five-year plan, but only because I had to make one to pass last year.

Words on paper have consequences. When are we going to learn that? There’s power in writing things down, and I’m not interested in giving people power over me.

So that’s the kind of crap I have to put up with.

Thanks, Mrs. Twelve.

Tuesday, Sept. 6

See, I told you that writing this was a bad idea.

I’m not sure if Mrs. Twelve is casting a hacking spell, a key-tracker, or is just doing a low-level context swipe. But yeah, I know you’re peering in. Does that get me an A, Mrs. Twelve?
Anyway, you want more.

I spent 15 minutes yesterday debating what to call this mess. There was no way in Hella I was going to call this a diary, like the syllabus suggested. What did you think I was going to do, write down all the boys’ names that had cute butts? Please.

I have work to do.

Today on the whiteboard is a question - Why are you here?

I get it. Sung Tech is a magnet school. I had to jump through a bunch of hoops to get here, so that I could learn from the best trainers, to be one of the best Technomancers.

Do I go with the touching story of my childhood? About how my dad is a Technomancer that hasn’t been able to speak for the past seven years? That’s the joy of having a parent that decided to venture into the Wastelands.
How about Mom? You really want me to put down information about her, don’t you? I can feel your little nanos sparkle at that thought. Bet you really want me to tell you more about Old Magic. Nope. Not happening.

Why am I here?

Yeah, I know I’m already good at Technomancy. You know it, too, that’s why you’re trying to be friends with me, Mrs. Twelve. Trying to get me to trust you, so I can be your next prize pupil. Your next Sampson?

Can I ask you about Sampson? What were his grades like? And did you have any idea he was going to leave when he did?

Maybe I’m here to find Sampson.

Wouldn’t that be a trick? Follow in his footsteps, find his misdirection, figure out where he fooled you.

Those who can’t, teach, right?

But you can, can’t you?

I know who you really are, Mrs. Twelve.

That’s why I’m here.

Wednesday, Sept. 7

Encryptological Curses is an interesting special lesson today. So convenient.

I'm not going to bother cursing my Chronicle. Sure, I could give you a feedback loop of nanites, maybe a little eye twitch. But let's be real. I'm 17. You're the Wizard of the Wander. I'm pretty sure any cute little curse I can put in you is 12 seconds of discomfort, tops.

I’ll be honest, Mrs. Twelve, I expected to be out of your class today. At the least, a little conference in your office afterwards.

Instead, just a quite note that you like that I wrote more.

Tell me you're not just checking the file size each day, making sure I have enough bits in the file.

Is that really it? Damn it. I could just write BOINK over and over, and you’d be happy, wouldn’t you?

BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK.

BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK.

BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK BOINK.

BOINK.

I know your secret, woman.

The Wizard of the Wander. How many people died that day?

All but one.

That’s what they said, didn’t they?

All but one.

You just came walking out of that mess, your wand in your hand, and bodies left behind.

Did Sampson know about this too?

Did he leave, or did you send him away?

I’m going to find out.

I’m going to stop you.

Thursday, Sept. 8

Day four of this charade. Not a single word from Mrs. Twelve. But I know you’re reading, waiting.

At the very least, I know my encryption spells take work. I’m going to get better.

Encryptological Curses is interesting. I’ll admit that. Hedgedaughter had a question about the lower weave of a feedback loop, and she was a bit too nervous to ask you, so she asked me. It was interesting, being the teacher, explaining the weave to her better than you could. It actually made me think of a few new ideas to add into.

I’m calling it a thread-snap. The encryption weave around the Chronicle was supposed to be two-fold. Initially, it was going to make your eye twitch. But that was just the misdirection. After a time delay, it was supposed to make a lock of your hair go white during our class. I thought it was subtle enough to slide past you. But you caught both parts of the curse.

Now I’ve got to come up with a new one. I’m thinking an itchy nose. And the thread-snap. A nice, taut thread of energy attaching me to the Chronicle. And it will snap the moment anyone opens it. It’ll feel like a hard pinch for me, enough to wake me up if need be. So yeah, while you’re reading this, I’m awake, and I know what you’re doing.

See you tomorrow, Wizard of the Wander.

Friday, Sept. 9

Damn it. That really hurts.

I should have been more specific as to where the pinch was going to be.

I barely got any sleep last night. Damn thread was tugging at me the whole time. Mrs. Twelve had to have seen it. I spent some time in the library digging through some camouflage spells. I’ll need to disguise my thread-snap better if I’m going to trick her. But for now, I at least have the comfort of knowing that she’s not reading this. So at the very least, I’ll learn to deal with that tug of energy pulling at me, protecting the Chronicle.

She gave me one quick note that Thursday’s entry wasn’t as big as it should have been. I acted as shocked as I could, asking her how could she possibly know.

She chuckled, and showed me the chart. It was a simple bit-tracker. She admitted that she doesn’t like students to know about it, and asked me to not tell the other students. She’d rather they think she’s some sort of omnipotent witch that knows if they’re putting enough effort into their work, and not someone just running a simple script that checks log-in data.

But hey, she said she felt I was something special. And she thanked me for yesterday.

I had to admit I didn’t know what she was talking about. But apparently she saw me helping Hedgedaughter.

Mrs. Twelve said something weird to me - that sometimes by teaching something, you really learn it.

When it came time for the Encryptological Curses quiz, I felt like it was old knowledge. I could explain it in three different ways, and had no problem passing. Apparently Hedgedaughter passed it as well, with the fourth-highest mark.

Why are you here?

That was the writing prompt this week.

I know the Wizard of the Wander wants to know why am I here.

But maybe I need to ask her.

Why is she here?

What is she looking to really learn?