Chapter Two: The Codeseer’s Prophecy | The Technomancer’s Codex Fantasy Series
The Codeseer’s Prophecy. Image generated with AI.
“Binary, the most fundamental language of the Network Empire. Every spell of Technomancy, every machine, every construct speaks it. It is the foundation of all digital leyline magic.”
Technomancer’s Insight: Navigating the OSI Model and the Language of Machines
As Lionar learns more from the Arch-Technomancer Baldric, he begins to see the layered structure behind every spell cast — each tier of magic flowing in harmony to deliver a single effect.
In our world, the OSI model serves a similar purpose: it organizes network communication into seven distinct layers, from the physical transmission of bits to the meaningful application data we interact with daily. Underlying it all is binary — the language of machines, where every command and connection begins as a pattern of ones and zeros.
Venture deeper into this chapter as Lionar begins to understand not just what flows through the leylines, but how it travels.
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Chapter 2: The Codeseer’s Prophecy
Baldric sat outside the village Switch Tower, the evening air cool against his skin. He had returned to check on the switch stone’s condition and was troubled by the clear lack of maintenance. He wondered if recent Imperial decrees had impacted the availability of qualified Technomancers in this particular region. The village of Byte lay quiet below, its network once again stable. Yet, within Baldric’s mind, thoughts came thick and fast, crowding upon him, demanding his attention.
"The apprentice you seek will be found in the Village of Byte."
The Codeseer’s words echoed in his mind. He had expected to find someone trained, someone already versed in Technomancy. But instead, he had found Lionar.
A youth who had never studied the art, yet had instinctively grasped its principles.
"I need to be sure."
Baldric rose from the stone ledge and made his way toward the Lorekeeper’s Hall, where the village’s knowledge was preserved. If Lionar was the one he sought, then the people who knew him best would surely offer clues.
Edwin, Lorekeeper of Byte, was an elderly man, his robes marked with the insignia of a scholar. He peered at Baldric through round spectacles as he entered the vaulted chamber, the scent of aged tomes, wood, and dust filling the air.
"Ah, it's you again, Arch-Technomancer," he mused, setting down his etherquill. "What brings you to my humble archives?"
Baldric stroked his beard. "The lad, Lionar. I need to know more about him."
Edwin’s eyes twinkled. "A curious one, that boy. Always asking questions, always tinkering. More interested in how things work than simply accepting that they do."
He gestured to a shelf filled with village records. "He once disassembled an entire codex tome, just to understand its mechanisms. His father was furious—seeing how expensive and delicate such devices are and all -- until Lionar put it back together and it worked better than before. Now all of us locals bring him our converse stones, scrying tablets, codex tomes and the like when they need fixing."
Baldric grinned. "Aye, that sounds like something the lad would do."
Edwin leaned forward, his voice dropping. "But there's something else you should know. Lionar... he sees patterns where others see chaos. He understands the language of systems before he's even learned their rules. That kind of mind is rare, sir. That, and the magic kind of floats around him. He doesn't see it, be we've all notice how the little wisps of energy swirl around him when he's working on a codex tome. Right special, it is."
Baldric nodded. It was as he suspected—Lionar’s mind was already wired for Technomancy and he was intune with the magic running throughout the land. But Baldric didn’t stop there. He decided to send an inquiry to the regional Technomancer.
Through a secure arcane channel, Baldric inscribed a message into a converse stone, the enchanted device humming with energy as the text formed:
To: Technomancer Aldrin of the Western Quadrant of Etheria
Subject: Village of Byte
Aldrin,
I happened to be passing through just when the primary energy crystal powering the switch stone began to fail.. I replaced the energy stone within the switch stone, however, the secondary energy stone—the backup—was nearly drained.
I had the assistance of a local village youth, named Lionar. Are you at all familiar with the name? A boy with an affinity for systems, an understanding of redundancies before they’re taught?
If there are records of his aptitude within the local Guild archives, I need to know. I seek confirmation before taking him to the capital as my apprentice.
Baldric, Arch-Technomancer of the Nexus
The converse stone glowed, and then the message vanished into the ether.
Baldric exhaled. The pieces were coming together. He would wait to see what the morrow would bring.
He walked through the village, speaking to craftsmen, merchants, and elders. Each person had a different story about Lionar’s curiosity, his problem-solving, his ability to connect ideas in unexpected ways.
The blacksmith recalled how Lionar had helped optimize his smelter’s heat control.
The baker remembered how Lionar had suggested a simple weight calibration that saved pounds of wasted grain.
The town’s weaver laughed as she described how Lionar once found a way to improve the village’s looms just by watching them work.
Each tale was another piece of the puzzle.
"He doesn’t just understand machines," Baldric thought. "He understands the logic that binds them together."
As he returned to the inn, he felt convinced that Lionar was the apprentice foretold by the Seer. He was determined to take the young man under his mentorship and present him for consideration before the Imperial Guild of Technomancy. But as he neared the door, a man stepped from the shadows, barring his way.
"I had a feeling it was you when I heard the name," the man said gruffly. "You haven’t changed much, Baldric."
Baldric gazed at the man before him and felt a weariness settle upon his shoulders. They had been good friends once, but that was before their falling out. It had been so many years ago, Baldric could barely remember the cause behind it all.
"The years have been kinder to ye than most, Rajimar."
"I live a good life. A peaceful life. Away from all the intrigue, corruption, and chaos that you seem to thrive in."
"Ye haven't changed a bit, have ye?" chuckled Baldric in exasperation.
"What are you doing here, Baldric? Whatever it is, I want no part of it."
"Ye ken I have nae interest in taking ye from ye're happy life. I'm here for more than a fancy wee bit 'o code."
Rajimar bristled. "I'll have you know that the programs that I wove were of exceptional quality and made significant contributions to the empire."
“Aye,” Baldric said. “One of the finest programmers in the Capital, skilled in weaving complex routines through the digital leyline.”
"You were a Codeweaver, Father?"
The men turned to find a wide-eyed Lionar staring at them. "How come you never told me? Does Mother know?"
"What? Of course, your mother knows! Why would I keep secrets from my wife?" Rajimar muttered.
"You kept it a secret from me! You said you've never traveled farther than Etheria!"
"And I haven't! We moved here when you were still a baby and we never went back."
"Lionar!" a loud, high-pitched voice called from the side of the inn. "Where's the vegetables you were sent to fetch?"
Lionar turned and walked stiffly around the side of the inn to the kitchens. His head was spinning from the revelation that his father had been a Codeweaver in the Capital and that he knew the Arch-Technomancer, Baldric. He simply didn't know how to process this.
"There you are!" Lionar’s aunt, Lizzette, exclaimed. "We've been waiting on you! The patrons are hungry!"
The hustle and bustle of the kitchens soon had Lionar too busy to worry about anything besides keeping up with the dishes.
********
The morning air carried the scent of spiced chai and fresh-baked flatbread as Baldric sat in the common room of the village inn, enjoying a quiet meal. A handful of travelers were scattered about, some finishing their breakfasts, others preparing to set off on the road. He had chosen a corner seat with a good vantage point—old habits died hard.
His fingers drummed absently on the table as he sipped his tea, his mind turning over the puzzle of his search. He had cast a wide net over the years, following faint traces of talent and whispers of prophecy, but when the Codeseer had sent him word that the one he sought would be found in this village, he had rushed here straight away. Rarely had he encountered a youth like Lionar—sharp-witted, inquisitive, and possessing an intuition for systems that could not be taught.
His musings were interrupted by a familiar voice.
“Master Baldric?”
Lionar stood by the table, eyes bright with curiosity, a small notebook tucked under his arm.
Baldric gestured to the empty chair across from him. “Come, lad. Ye look like ye have questions.”
Lionar sat, glancing at the symbols Baldric had been idly sketching on a spare parchment—rows of ones and zeroes.
“You talked about these numbers yesterday,” Lionar said, frowning in thought. “When we replaced the switch stones’s energy stone. I think I understand that they mean something, but… why just ones and zeroes again?”
Baldric smiled, pleased by the boy’s quick interest in the fundamentals. “Binary,” he said, tapping the parchment. “The most fundamental language of the Network Empire. Every spell of Technomancy, every machine, every construct speaks it. It is the foundation of all digital leyline magic.”
Lionar leaned in, intrigued. “But why not use other numbers?”
Baldric pushed his plate aside and gestured to Lionar to open his notebook. “Right then, lad. Let’s start simple. Write out eight zeros in a row.”
Lionar dipped his Etherquill into the ink and did as he was told.
0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
“Now, beneath each zero, from left to right, write these number values: 128, 64, 32, 16, 8, 4, 2, 1.”
Lionar frowned in concentration but carefully copied the sequence.
0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
128 64 32 16 8 4 2 1
Baldric tapped the parchment. “This, lad, is the foundation of our world. Every number, every spell in the Network Empire, every message sent through the Relay Obelisks and the Switch Stones—it all comes down to this. A simple choice: zero or one.”
Lionar traced a finger over the numbers. “So… when a zero turns to a one, it means something?”
“Aye. Let’s change the first two zeros on the left into ones.”
Lionar adjusted the numbers.
1 1 0 0 0 0 0 0
128 64 32 16 8 4 2 1
“Now,” Baldric said, “forget the zeros. Add up only the numbers under the ones.”
Lionar’s eyes lit up. “128 plus 64… that’s 192!”
Baldric grinned. “Aye! And that, lad, is how we count in the language of machines. That’s binary.”
Lionar stared at the parchment, then back at Baldric. “So… everything runs on this?”
“Everything,” Baldric confirmed. “From the simplest Converse Stone to the mighty Nexus Core itself. Just patterns of ones and zeros.”
Lionar exhaled, shaking his head. “It’s… simpler than I expected.”
Baldric laughed. “Aye, lad. The greatest magics often are."
He wrote out a few more binary sequences and had Lionar work through a few examples, guiding him through the process. Lionar’s brow furrowed in concentration as he copied the patterns, slowly gaining confidence.
After a few minutes, Baldric nodded. “Good. Ye’ve got the basics. Now, let’s step back a bit.” He flipped the notebook again and drew a rough map of the region. “Ye know the village of Byte, but have ye ever considered how it connects to the rest of the world?”
Lionar’s gaze flicked to the sketch. “There’s the road to Lanwick… and the trade routes.”
“Aye, but beyond that?” Baldric tapped a point on the map. “Every village in this region has a Switch Stone—a focal point of connection. These Switch Stones link to a greater Core Switch Stone, housed in the regional capital. That Core Switch Stone, in turn, is part of the greater Network Empire, connected through the Nexus Core via the great leyline paths.”
Lionar’s eyes widened. “So… Byte is part of something much bigger.”
“Exactly,” Baldric said. “Every message, every spell, every transaction—flows through these paths, much like how messages travel across an unseen network.”
Lionar frowned. “How do messages know where to go?”
Baldric leaned back, pleased at the boy’s insight. “Now that is a good question. It all follows an order, a set of layers that dictate how information moves. Some call it the Seven Layers of Transmission, but in simpler terms, we know it as the OSI Model.”
Lionar tilted his head. “Seven layers?”
“Aye.” Baldric held up a hand, counting off each one.
Physical Layer – “The actual transmission medium—copper cables, fiber optics, radio waves, or even magical conduits—that carries raw bits as electrical signals, light pulses, or energy waves.”
Data Link Layer – “Establishes node-to-node communication. This layer ensures error detection, organizes data into frames, and prevents signal collisions within the same local network.”
Network Layer – “Handles logical addressing and routing. It assigns IP addresses and determines the best path for messages to travel across multiple networks.”
Transport Layer – “Breaks messages into segments (or packets), manages flow control, and ensures complete and ordered delivery using protocols like TCP and UDP.”
Session Layer – “Manages and maintains sessions between systems—opening, sustaining, and ending conversations between devices so data flows without overlap.”
Presentation Layer – “Translates data into a readable format for the application. It handles tasks like encryption, compression, and encoding—converting magical runes into readable script, so to speak.”
Application Layer – “Where network services interface directly with the user—like web browsers, email clients, or scrying portals. This is the final destination of the transmitted data.”
Lionar sat back, absorbing the explanation. “So… if I send a message to someone in another part of the Network Empire, it goes through all these steps?”
Baldric nodded. “Twice. And a Technomancer understands each layer—how to read them, manipulate them, and even protect them.”
Lionar hesitated, then asked the question that had been forming in his mind since yesterday. “What would it take to become a Technomancer?”
Before Baldric could answer, a flickering light caught his attention. The converse stone on his belt pulsed with a soft glow—an incoming message. He tapped the rune-etched surface, and a glowing script unfurled in the air before him.
To: Arch Technomancer Baldric,
Subject: Village of Byte
Your message is received and acknowledged. Thank you kindly for your timely assistance. Our region is sadly lacking in skilled technomancers at the moment and we are hard-pressed to keep up with timely routine maintenance.
In answer to your inquiry: Lionar is a good youth—diligent, inquisitive, and of fine character. I would be pleased to stand as a reference, per the Guild's requirements.
For his educational records, you may retrieve them from the Lanwick’s Lorekeeper at the Archive Hall in Lanwick.
Aldrin, Technomancer of Etheria's Western Quadrant
Baldric typed a simple acknowledgment of receipt and a thank you note. Just as he placed the converse stone in front of him at the table, Lionar’s father came over to see what the two were conversing about. Baldric gestured for him to sit. After a few pleasantries, he got straight to the point. “I’ll speak plainly. I wish to take Lionar to the capital and present him to the Technomancy Guild as a potential apprentice.”
Rajimar’s jaw tightened. "No. I’ve given him a life here—away from all of it. He doesn’t need the burdens we once bore."
"Ye, of all people, should realize that he has the aptitude for it!"
"You know why we left! You know the dangers that he could encounter!"
“Aye! I know all too well! But his talent is desperately needed. I swear this as his mentor—I will train him. I will make sure he is prepared for the challenges ahead.”
"No!"
A gentle hand came to rest on Rajimar’s tense shoulder. Emilia, Lionar’s mother, stepped forward, her eyes soft but resolute. "It’s in Lionar’s blood, Rajimar. We’ve watched him tinker with every scrap of technomancy hardware he could find since he could walk. We’ve seen the way his eyes light up when travelers speak of the capital’s grand systems. You can’t keep him in the village forever."
Rajimar's brows knit in concern. “The capital is far. And the path of a Technomancer is not an easy one.”
“No,” Baldric admitted. “But I believe he has the mind for it. He sees patterns where others do not. He understands the Network’s flow instinctively. He has the aptitude for it.”
Rajimar folded his arms. “Even if we accept that… you’re asking us to send him into a world of politics, conflict, and danger.”
“Both of you speak truths, but what of Lionar? What does his heart say?" Lionar’s mother glanced at her son. “What do you want, Lionar?”
Lionar swallowed. The thought of leaving everything he knew behind was daunting. But there was a fire in him, a longing to understand more—to become more.
“I want to go.”
His father studied him for a long moment, then sighed and extended a hand to Baldric. “Then take the best care of him.”
Baldric rose. “Then it is settled. Lionar, I will take you on as my apprentice. Prepare yourself for the journey. I have things that I must see to today but I shall be back by sundown. We will leave for the Capital at first light."
Lionar barely had time to process the whirlwind of revelations before he was swept up in the preparations for his departure. The day flew by in a blur— gathering supplies, packing his satchel, saying his goodbyes to those in the village who had watched him grow up. Each moment felt surreal, as though he were walking through a dream that had suddenly become reality.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, his mother pulled him aside. She held something in her hands—a small pendant, its surface etched with delicate, intertwining patterns.
"This belonged to your grandfather," she said softly, fastening it around his neck. "He was a great man, and I believe you will be too. Keep it close, and remember—you are never alone, no matter how far you go."
Lionar swallowed hard, the weight of the pendant solid and cool against his chest. "Thank you, Mother."
She cupped his face briefly, her smile warm but tinged with sadness. "Rest well, my son. Tomorrow, your journey begins."
That night, sleep did not come easily to Lionar. When it did, it brought unsettling visions—dark shapes shifting at the edges of his mind, whispers slithering through the void. A presence loomed in the shadows, unseen yet suffocating in its malice.
Lionar awoke with a start, his heart pounding. Morning light streamed through his window. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. Today was the beginning of something new.
He rose, dressed, and slung his satchel over his shoulder. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it head-on.
Continue the Journey
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