"Oh, that is better than ours," Sandy says. "If you're using our kind of magic at all, you're already in a position to accidentally conjure hobgoblins if a spell gets away from you, no matter what kind of spell it is."

"Hobgoblins are the worst," Alex moans.

"That... that sounds surprisingly complex even without knowing what Hobgoblins are. What are they?"

Alex frowns. "Hobgoblins are like... if you take a little bit of magic and let it twist into what it wants to be instead of what you want it to do, it turns into a little creature that wants to mess up the things around it. Typically that means destroying valuables and other forms of property, rather than causing actual physical harm, but you can get some really mean ones sometimes."

"Charming, and even a translation spell can make one of those?"

"Any time you're handling magic," Alex confirms. "You can destroy them pretty easily, but they can really mess stuff up if you're not expecting them."

"Are there other side-effects? It almost sounds like something empowering vices - demonic magic - would do. Though your kind still is miles ahead in terms of versatility."

Alex shakes his head. “No other side effects. I mean, sometimes a spell will come out wrong because you forgot to account for something while making it, but that’s not a side effect, that’s just bad luck.”

Nod. Nom. "Do Hobglobins have variance in danger or behavior?"

"They're influenced by the caster's subconscious at the time of casting and the amount of power that went into them. If you're in danger they're more aggressive and inclined to protect you; if you're just screwing around they're more likely to just be an annoyance."

"Aww, could you keep one as a pet?"

"Nope. They keep drawing power out of you the longer they last, and if you try to keep one alive it'll eventually just disintegrate. Or explode."

"Aw." Pout.

Herod feeds him a strawberry (quietly wondering why it isn't straw-looking). "It's for the best. Magical pets are big responsibility and I don't think you're ready for that yet."

"Cute," Gavriil says. "You could start with an illusory goldfish."

"Pet rock crystal," Kostas contends.

"Rock crystal isn't inherently magical, just a good conductor," Gavriil argues.

"I know that."

"I know."

Kostas throws a blackberry at him. Gavriil catches it in his mouth.

"Asshole," they say in unison.

"Aww, how adorable. Illusory goldfish sounds pretty. Are they hard to make?"

"A permanent one would be." Alex closes his eyes for a second and a goldfish flops onto the table for a moment, then vanishes in a puff of smoke.

"Now, that's the sort of stuff that makes me jealous. Be able to just imagine stuff and show it to others, like that."

"Maybe there is a machine that does it for you? Ariel mentioned an illusion machine."

Alex's brow furrows. "Illusion machine?"

"You could fight with it?"

"She used the term virtual reality?"

There's a general unconfusion. "Oh, VR!" Alex shakes his head. "VR only exists when you're in it, is the thing, and you can't be in VR all the time. I guess if you wanted you could get AR goggles - uh, augmented reality - and get somebody to program you a goldfish for that, but that's a lot of effort for a goldfish."

"Well, the part that I am really want is to be able to just get a mental image out of my head and into the world. Sadly, we never managed to acquire a illusion spellword."

“Plus you’d only be able to do it once before you have to take a break and ogle your spellbook,” Kostas points out. “Vancian casting kinda kills the unpredictability.”

"I don't like that I need to memorize spells each time, but I sort of appreciated the predictability. I mean, you could be more or less certain that an opponent wouldn't use the same spell twice, and if they did then it was an innate spell and you could extrapolate any other innate spells they had."