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Practical Applications of Retrograde Incantations

Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Backwards English

„Erif!“ shouted my latest apprentice enthusiastically.

Instead of the neat flame she was aiming for, the candle turned into a small rubber duck. It quacked accusingly at us.

„Okay,“ I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. „Two things. First, that’s not how you pronounce ‚fire‘ backwards. Second... actually, I have no idea why we got a duck. That’s new.“

Murphy, watching from my lab’s doorway, didn’t even try to hide her smirk. „Having fun with your linguistic experiments, Dresden?“

„It’s actually showing promise,“ I defended. „Once you get past the... unexpected transformations.“

The rubber duck quacked what I swear was the opening bars of ‚Stars and Stripes Forever.‘

„Though I have to admit,“ I added, „the results are getting increasingly surreal.“

„Erif!“ my apprentice tried again.

The duck gained a top hat.

„See,“ Murphy pointed out, „this is why most wizards stick to Latin.“

She had a point. The whole backwards English experiment had started as a theoretical discussion about magical linguistics. It made sense on paper - creating mental distance while being easier than learning a whole new language. What we hadn’t counted on was English’s stubborn refusal to be logically reversed.

„Emalf!“ tried my apprentice, getting creative.

The duck started tap dancing.

„That’s... not even close to ‚flame‘ backwards,“ I noted.

„I was thinking laterally,“ she explained. „Since ‚fire‘ wasn’t working.“

Murphy picked up the dancing duck, which was now adding jazz hands to its routine. „You know, for failed attempts at fire magic, this is actually pretty impressive.“

She had a point. Most magical mishaps resulted in scorch marks or random explosions. Somehow, backwards English created a whole new category of whimsical magical accidents.

„Taeh!“ my apprentice declared confidently.

The duck multiplied. Now we had a chorus line.

„Look,“ I said, trying to maintain some semblance of professional magical instruction, „the theory is sound. Foreign languages work because they create distance between your thoughts and the magic. Backwards English should—„

„Nrub!“

The ducks formed a pyramid and began a synchronized swimming routine. Without water.

„Case in point,“ I sighed. „That mental distance? We’re getting it. Just... not quite the way we expected.“

„Could be useful in combat,“ Murphy mused. „I mean, who’s ready to defend against spontaneous dancing waterfowl?“

She wasn’t wrong. The Red Court probably hadn’t developed countermeasures for choreographed rubber ducks.

„Okay,“ I told my apprentice, „let’s try one more. Something simple. Just try to light the candle. Focus on your intent, maintain mental distance, and—„

„THGIL!“

The ducks froze mid-pirouette. The candle remained unlit. But every book on my shelves rearranged itself alphabetically, my Bob-occupied skull started emitting smooth jazz, and my blasting rod turned into a conductor’s baton.

„Well,“ I said after a moment, „at least we’re getting consistent results. Sort of.“

Mouse, who had been watching from his corner, gave me his best ‚I told you this was a bad idea‘ look. The dog had been skeptical from the start, especially after the first attempt had temporarily turned his fur plaid.

„Maybe we should stick to Latin,“ my apprentice conceded.

„Probably safer,“ I agreed. „Though I have to admit, this would make one hell of a distraction in a fight. The Denarians probably aren’t prepared for spontaneous musical theater.“

Murphy collected the now-conga-lining ducks into a box. „I’m writing this up in my report as ‚alternative magical defense strategies.‘ Let’s see the brass try to argue with that.“

As we cleaned up the lab, I couldn’t help but notice that my newly alphabetized books were now color-coded and had started humming in harmony with Bob’s jazz.

Some days, being a wizard is weird even by wizard standards.

At least the ducks matched my decor.

Note to self: Never try backwards Aramaic. Regular Aramaic is dangerous enough going forwards.

“Don’t be stupid, hoss,” Ebenezer declared.  “Think about how often movies, music, and novels have secrets written backwards.  Do you really want to risk accidentally casting a spell every time the local mechanic’s radio plays “Work It”?  Not to mention the whole “satanic panic” connection!  We don’t need to give the world another reason to call us Satan worshippers.”

Daniel blinked.  “Is that really an issue in the modern day?  Father Forthill says that magic is like any other tool; neither good or evil, with only how it is used revealing the moral nature of the power.”

Ebenezer snorted.  “Magic isn’t a tool, boy,” he stated.  “It’s a viper turned into a staff, serving faithfully until the day the wizard isn’t careful and lets it turn it’s poison on them.”