Dedication
For Ariela Rowe, the newest member of my family. Each new life is a shining beacon of hope for the continued existence of humanity.
Chapter I — Entry
It was the day of my Judgment, and I was prepared in a thousand ways that didn’t matter.
If I have a choice between tests, I’ll pick a dialogue or mathematical challenge before accepting a combat challenge.
In the unfortunate event that I’m stuck in a combat challenge, I’ll try to run if there’s anything bigger than a goblin. Possibly even if it’s a goblin, depending on how mean he looks.
Spike traps are not my friends. Spike traps are the enemy. I will avoid them at all costs.
I’d been training for this day for five years — since the day my brother, Tristan, had left for his own Judgment. He’d entered the Serpent Spire and, like so many others, he’d never returned.
Now, at seventeen, I stood among hundreds of my peers. They were waiting to try their luck. But I didn’t trust luck. Luck wasn’t reliable.
Instead of relying on the fickleness of chance, I’d taken everything with me that I thought might help.
Bringing weapons and armor into the test was strictly forbidden, but there weren’t any rules about bringing a backpack full of supplies. I had double checked, triple checked. Maybe they’d consider my grappling hook a weapon, but crossing a downed bridge was one of the most common challenges, so I doubted it.
My boots were more durable than the shoes my companions tended to wear and offered vastly better traction. Instead of a silken shirt, I wore a black leather doublet and pants. Not currently fashionable, but more likely to slow down a claw or blade.
I’d studied, too, but there was a limit to what I could learn from the experiences of others. After a Judgment, the memories of the individual who took the tests would rapidly fade, similar to waking from a dream. Some people held onto stronger memories than others. I read every book, essay, and scrap of paper that I could find with hints about what others had experienced. But nothing was reliable.
Apparently, Selys — our beneficent goddess, creator of this death trap tower and all the others — wanted to maintain a degree of mystery for newcomers.
Even with all my preparation, I wasn’t sure what my odds were of surviving the ordeal. From the grim expressions of my peers, I could tell some of them were running the same numbers in their heads that I was.
Or maybe they were just intimidated by the sight of the spire. I’d seen the tower from a distance before, and I knew it was big, but… that word wasn’t close to describing it. Gigantic might have scratched the surface. Titanic, perhaps?
I couldn’t even see where it ended.
The spire was roughly cylindrical in shape, constructed of dull blue stone I hadn’t seen anywhere else. The circumference of the tower’s base was nearly as impressive as the height. It eclipsed the size of any ordinary castle.
Our scholars, military, and adventurers had spent years attempting to map the interior of the spire. Even their combined efforts barely covered a fraction of the estimated rooms within. This wasn’t just due to the size. The spire’s interior layout constantly changed, with rooms and passages appearing and disappearing on a daily basis.
The Gates of Judgment were open wide, but it wasn’t an inviting effect. With ogre-sized jagged spikes of rock surrounding the entrance, it looked more like the tower had opened its jaws to swallow its victims whole.
Most people were willing to risk entering the spire for a single reason: it was a chance to earn an attunement, a mark of Selys’ favor.
Every attunement brought power along with it, a fragment of the goddess’ blessing. Some attuned could heal wounds with a touch. Others could hurl blasts of lightning. Every attunement extracted a cost, but that didn’t stop anyone from trying to earn one.
Father was attuned. Mother was attuned. Shouldn’t it have been easy for Tristan to pass the same tests?
Tristan had every advantage. As the firstborn, Mother and Father trained him endlessly, drilled him on their own experiences within the tower. No two Judgments were identical, but common elements had been found. Physical challenges. Puzzles. Tests of intellect.
He’d studied, prepared, and taken every mock test imaginable. He’d still failed.
Mother left not long after that, and Father insisted on personally providing me with additional training. After two years, he pulled me out of public school entirely. I’d been practicing dueling every day for the last three years. I had the scars to remind me.
Father wanted to hone me into the perfect heir to the family’s legacy. To earn the same attunement he had — the attunement our family was famous for.
I didn’t care about any of that. For me, earning an attunement was just one fraction of a longer-term plan.
According to legend, the goddess would bestow a boon on anyone who was brave enough to reach the top of one of her spires. There were scattered stories of successes. Heroes who had met the goddess and wished for wealth, power, or even to join her in the divine kingdom floating high above the world.
I had no intention of trying to make it to the top of the tower right now. Earning my attunement was just the first step along my path, one that would give me the power necessary to begin my climb.
It could take years to grow strong enough to reach the top of the spire.
But I’d get there eventually.
And I’d ask the goddess to give my brother back. It was the only way to bring my family back together.
I was stopped by a pair of copper-armored guards just in front of the gate.
“Name?”
“Corin Cadence.”
One of the guards moved a finger down a list until he found me, crossing out the name. “I’ll need to check your bag and papers.”
I handed him the papers first, and then the bag. For the guard, this must have been mundane. Routine. For me, the stakes were a little more serious. I was about to risk my life, and no one had I had met had even commented on that fact. No one had offered a single warning.
My father hadn’t even deigned to see me off at the train station. It seemed incongruous, given the time he’d spent preparing me. He’d probably decided I’d feel more confident doing this on my own.
As usual, he was wrong.
My hands trembled as I glanced to the entrance. I flinched as I watched the applicants in front of me fade into transparency, then nothingness as they crossed the threshold into the tower. It looked like they were disintegrating. Maybe they were. I wouldn’t know until I tried.
The guard handed my bag back to me. “You can head on in.”
“Thanks.”
I stepped up to the threshold. I knew what was going to happen next, but I didn’t like it.
No choice. I’ve come this far.
I closed my eyes and stepped into the serpent’s maw.
* * *
Every inch of my exposed skin burned, like I had been out in the sun for days. Fortunately, keeping my eyes shut had spared them from sharing that sensation.
Less fortunately, that hadn’t prevented the nausea. My stomach reacted next, and I pitched over to vomit on the gray stone floor. My eyes fluttered open after my meager lunch abandoned me.
I stood in the middle of a chamber of white stone. A bright glow illuminated the room with no discernable source. The room was circular, maybe thirty feet in diameter. At the center was a formation of waist-height pillars. I counted twelve in total.
Each pillar had a single object atop it. My first challenge. My first choice.
The room had three discernable exits, and I glanced at them before I took any further steps. One was straight across from me, the others ninety degrees to either side. I turned around briefly, but there was no exit door, just as I had been warned.
The doors themselves were etched with similar runes to the ones that had guarded the tower itself. They each had a single central symbol: a circle with a colorful crystal within. The gems were blue, yellow, and red, from right to left. The books I had studied had mentioned similar doors. Opening a door was as simple as touching the gem, but various authors speculated that the colors had some significance. Most believed that red was the path of violence, for example.
I’d worry about that part after I figured out what I was doing here.
I stepped toward the center of the room. The pillars made a smaller circle within the chamber, spread equidistant from one another. The objects on the pillars were generally easy to identify.
A key, golden, with a wing motif.
A scroll, sealed with wax.
A book, roughly as thick as my closed fist.
I paused there, taking a closer look at the book. The cover was leather, more in the style of a personal journal than a textbook. There was no writing on the surface.
Interesting. I’ll need to take a closer look at this later.
I walked over to the next section of items.
The first item that caught my eye was a ruby statue of Katashi, the Visage of Valor. Interesting, because Katashi was not the visage typically associated with this spire — that’d be Tenjin, the Visage of Inspiration.
The next pedestal appeared to be empty. Suspicious.
The third had a quill, the tip dripping with ink. No corresponding inkwell. A magic quill, maybe?
Maybe the quill is meant to be paired with the book? Hrm.
I walked to the next section, noting that these pillars all held weapons.
A sword with an ornate bronze hilt, sheathed.
A dueling cane in an unfamiliar style.
A firearm. I struggled to think of the specific name, but I had only heard of them in books. It had a long barrel and a container of metallic balls next to it. I was surprised to see one, given their rarity on this side of the continent.
The final three pillars all held wearable items.
A dueling vest, the cloth etched with runes.
A shield, wood-lined with metal.
A circlet studded with numerous gemstones. I didn’t see any runes etched into it, so I didn’t think it was enchanted, but I wasn’t exactly an expert on magic. Not yet, anyway.
Well, this isn’t exactly the death trap I was expecting.
I’d never heard of a room like this before. Maybe most people didn’t count it as a test? That seemed doubtful. My understanding was that every movement I made within the spire was being evaluated.
So, I got an unusual starting room. That was fine. I’d heard about rooms with items in them before, just not this particular layout. Generally, taking items was safe.
Generally.
Maybe it was a test of greed… Was I supposed to leave everything behind? Or maybe just take a single item?
I shook my head. I could guess indefinitely without coming up with an answer.
I took a closer look at the platforms themselves, examining them for anything unusual. Hidden panels, clues, or switches. The goddess loved that sort of thing… so they said, at least.
I didn’t find any, which was deeply worrying.
Time to prioritize, then.
I knew there was a good chance something would happen when I picked up the first item. Perhaps a trap would trigger somewhere, or the other items would vanish.
Assuming this equipment was meant to be taken, what did I need the most?
The key could be, well, a key to my success. Or totally worthless. The scroll was the same; it could easily be a map to the dungeon or some esoteric notes on mathematical theory. The book had the same degree of binary promise.
The next set didn’t impress me, although I did strongly consider touching the empty pedestal to see if it triggered anything. Maybe I was supposed to put something on it? Sacrifice something of value in exchange for what I was taking?
I’d do that if I had a chance, I decided. And if I happened to dislodge an invisible object in the process, all the better.
Weapons. Yeah, those could be useful. This place was riddled with monsters, and I wasn’t allowed to bring a weapon inside. Maybe the goddess knew I’d need a way to fight.
Or maybe I’d only run into monsters if I took a weapon. It was broadly speculated that the configuration of the tower reacted to choices in any given room.
The next section was the wearables. The dueling vest was extremely tempting. The runes on the surface made it resistant to damage from both physical attacks and weak magical ones. Depending on the density of the runes, a vest could typically handle between one and three hits before needing repairs. This one looked to be high quality.
Ultimately, my curiosity made my decision for me.
I put my hand on the empty pedestal, groping for an invisible object, and then feeling along the surface.
Nothing happened.
Huh.
I opened my backpack next, going through my stuff. An unlit candle, a piece of flint and a tiny metal rod for striking it, food, water, a handful of coins, a roll of bandages, and a coil of rope.
The handful of coins amounted to the majority of my personal wealth, and the single gold coin most of that.
I put the coin on the pedestal.
Again, no obvious reaction from the room.
I left it there anyway, moving to the pedestal with the key. Flexing my hands in the air, I took a deep breath, and then snatched it.
Again, nothing.
Sometimes a pedestal was just a pedestal, I supposed.
I wasn’t going to take any chances. I dropped the key into my bag, and then put one of my lesser coins in the place the key had been.
The key was my first priority because I didn’t think anything here would be useless. Selys was difficult to predict, but scholars agreed that she was generally “fair”. Everything here would have value, either within the tower or outside it. Possibly both.
I needed whatever was most likely to be relevant here, and the key topped that list, followed by the quill and the scroll. Everything else was likely to have at least some value outside of the spire, and thus would not necessarily need to have any use within it.
The hardest choice was determining if I wanted to take a weapon, with the knowledge that the choice might influence the challenges to come.
My father would have wanted me to pick up a weapon, to push for combat tests as much as possible.
Our family had made our name in battle. He was a Shaper like his father and his grandfather. If I didn’t at least make an effort to carry on the family tradition, I knew he’d be ashamed of me.
But I loathed hurting people. I always had. I’d trained with my father for years, and I enjoyed the rush of sparring as much of anyone, but in those rare moments I’d managed to hurt him — or anyone else — I’d shut down.
Father thought that made me weak. Maybe he was right, but it didn’t change anything.
There was something I feared more than hurting others, however, and that was failing my brother.
Finding him was something I was willing to fight for.
I picked up the dueling cane and examined the surface.
The weapon was a metallic rod about the length of my forearm. The grip was black crystal inscribed with runes that would conduct my internal essence into the weapon. I adjusted my grip so that my thumb hovered over a button, presumably the trigger. I found a switch on the opposite end, which most likely would deploy the foot-long metallic blade within.
My own dueling canes had always been purely runic; the trigger mechanisms based on touching a rune and the application of focused thought. I was not an attuned — I had no magical abilities of my own — but anyone could use a dueling cane with sufficient practice. And I had practiced. And practiced.
A runic weapon like this would tear mana from the inside of the wielder’s body, using it to power a blast of energy if the cane was in its default state, or to charge the blade with energy if the weapon had been deployed. Duelists learned to quickly switch between states to use the melee and ranged functions. A single blast from a cane was often enough to incapacitate an unarmored target. Thus, dueling vests were used.
I took the dueling vest, too, and slipped it on. I replaced both the weapon and armor with coins.
Having already taken three items, I couldn’t resist taking a little bit more, even knowing the ever-growing risk.
I took the book and the scroll, again replacing them with coins. I really hoped the goddess liked coins.
The dueling cane’s mechanical parts bothered me. It was an unusual design, foreign. I flipped the switch on the back, and it deployed a blade as I expected. I had to push the switch back in and pull it down to get the blade to retract, which was an annoyance. It was most likely spring-loaded.
Well, I’d adapt.
The weapon had a small clip on the bottom designed to attach to clothing, which I used to secure it on my belt. I’d draw the cane the instant I sensed any chance of combat.
I flipped open the book. It appeared to be blank. A puzzle? I’d worry about it later. I put the book away.
I broke the seal on the scroll next, unrolling it.
On the positive side of things, this had writing on it.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t in a language I could read. Valdaric, maybe? I wasn’t a linguistics expert. I rolled it up and shoved it in my pack, mildly irritated.
I briefly considered whether or not the quill was meant to be used in conjunction with the blank book.
I had no way of knowing, really.
One quill exchanged for one coin.
A good deal for the goddess, as far as I was concerned. Maybe this whole tower thing was just an excuse to rob seventeen-year-olds of their hard-earned savings.
I doubted it, but who could know for sure?
I approached the blue door first. Blue was a nice, safe, tranquil color. It also was generally assumed to be associated with mental traits, and I figured I had the best chance of surviving mental puzzles.
I touched the gem. The door rumbled, sliding down into a depression in the ground.
The next room was square shaped, and in the midst of it, a smaller square, divided into a grid. There were three doors on the opposite side of the room, each with a different color of gem. Purple, green, and — um — maybe indigo?
Each of the grid squares near the center had a color-coded tile, and each tile had a foreign symbol within.
I really hate color coded tile puzzles.
I’d read a lot about this style of puzzle, and even tried a few practice ones. I was terrible at them.
I stepped away from the door, shaking my head. It closed without any further interaction my part.
I walked over to the red door and opened it.
It showed a long, narrow hallway, wide enough for two people to walk abreast. I could see the door on the opposite end, but just barely.
In the middle of the path, however, was a monster.
The world’s most adorable monster.
It looked like a big house cat, with gray and white stripes, sitting with its front paws raised. It had three long, bunny-like ears and a trailing rat-like tail. It tilted its head to the side as it saw me, giving me a quizzical expression.
It was too cute to die.
I stepped away from the door, chuckling to myself.
It’s possible I am the world’s worst adventurer.
One door left.
The red door slid shut as I headed to the yellow and touched the final gem.
The last room was square, about twenty feet across. The same size as the first one I had opened.
This one was divided into smaller squares too, but in a very different way.
A solid third of the squares were missing. From my vantage point in the doorway, I could see nothing below the gaps in the floor but darkness. I assumed, to be safe, that it would be certain death if I fell in one of those holes.
Directly across from me, blocking one of the room’s three exit doors, was a mirror. It was taller than I was and nearly twice as wide.
This seemed like the most appealing option. Visible pit traps didn’t worry me anywhere near as much as stepping on the wrong tile in some kind of color puzzle.
I didn’t step into the yellow room. Not immediately.
First, I needed to map those squares.
The left and right half of the room were almost symmetrical. Not quite, but it took some observation to spot the differences in the paths. Two paths led to two doors on opposite ends of the room.
The third door had only a single square of floor in front of it, with no solid path to it. I’d have to jump, or otherwise problem-solve, to make it to that one.
The doors were, of course, also color coded. The green door was the isolated one, on my left. Orange was on my right. Gold in the center. Two were clearly combinations of the colors from the first room, and I had seen green as an option in the room with the colored squares… Would both green doors lead to the same place? I wasn’t sure.
And it wasn’t easily testable, since I knew there was a good chance the door I used to enter this chamber was going to vanish the moment I walked in. The goddess disapproved of backtracking, apparently.
The room seemed too simple at a glance; the mirror probably had some kind of function that wasn’t obvious from a distance. Maybe some of the tiles were illusory, and some of the “gaps” were actually solid, and I’d have to look in the mirror to see the true path. That seemed like a valid puzzle, and it scared me a lot less than the colored tiles.
It scared me more than the cat-rat-bunny, but I really wanted to avoid killing something without cause.
I scanned the room for anything I might tie my rope for a lifeline if I fell. No handrails, no obvious protrusions from the floor. Just squares, some empty, some apparently safe. And the mirror, of course.
I had brought a lot of rope. Nearly fifty feet, coiled up, high quality. The tower was notorious for having pits, many of which would be fatal.
I tied one end of the rope around my waist with a climbing knot. I prepped the other side of the rope as a crude lasso, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.
As I expected, there was no exit when I turned around.
I did not, however, expect the shadowy simulacrum of myself that appeared in front of the mirror.
Oh, resh. That’s bad.
I raised my rope, preparing to throw it at the mirror.
The duplicate copied my motions exactly, holding an identical rope.
Ah, the “killer shadow that mirrors what I do” puzzle. A classic.
I slid my foot forward, not taking a full step in case the ground in front of me was illusory. Fortunately, the next square proved as solid as it appeared.
The shadow creature mirrored my movement.
I waved.
It waved.
“Hi,” I said. Even if I knew it was going to try to kill me, there was no need to be rude.
It opened its mouth, mirroring me, but no sound emerged.
Creepy.
There was nothing overtly dangerous about the duplicate, but I was confident bad things were going to happen if it got too close. Or possibly if I took too long in solving whatever I was supposed to solve.
I continued to slide my foot, moving to the right side of the room. I wanted a clear throw at the mirror with my rope, without the shadow throwing a rope in my direction. I had no idea what a shadow-rope might do if it hit me, or how the shadow would react if it touched my own rope.
Once I was in position, I threw the rope at the mirror.
And missed.
The shadow mirrored me, throwing its own rope, with equally useless results.
I threw the rope a second time, missing again.
The tile that I had stood on when I entered the room broke away from the others, plunging into the darkness below.
Oh, resh me. I have a time limit.
I finished reeling in the rope, tossed it lazily over my shoulder, and pulled the dueling cane off my belt.
The shadow mirrored me. If I fired at him, he’d probably fire something back at me. I didn’t know if the shadow cane would produce a projectile, but if it did, it might be more dangerous than my own.
I aimed at the mirror instead, pressing the button.
I felt a familiar tingling as the cane syphoned mana from my arm, channeling it into the weapon’s core and expelling it as a blue-white burst of arcane force. The bolt slammed into the mirror and — predictably — bounced right back at me.
I didn’t have time to dodge. I raised both arms in a defensive stance and the blast crashed into my forearms. The force of the burst knocked me backward, leaving one of my feet dangling just over the edge of a fatal fall.
I leaned forward, falling on my knees and elbows to avoid a descent into the pit.
It was only at that point that I processed what my duplicate had done: its own projectile had been silent and nearly invisible. Tracing the path from the creature’s dueling cane, however, I could see a hole in the wall, burrowing nearly three feet into the stone.
That was a dozen times more force than I could muster, and more than enough to overwhelm my dueling vest’s protection.
I couldn’t take this thing in a blasting fight.
Breathing deeply, I pushed myself to my feet.
Another tile fell into the darkness. I marched forward, following the path toward the central door, my eyes following the shadow.
It mirrored me, but the room wasn’t symmetrical.
When I neared the middle of the room, I found the spot I was looking for. A space where I could move forward safely, but a single step would plunge the shadow into the darkness below.
I stepped forward.
My duplicate didn’t. Instead, it raised its cane toward me.
I ran.
Gah. Stupid shadow, not following the rules.
The blast ripped through the air behind me as I rushed for the mirror, taking cover behind it. I could see three options if the shadow fired at me — the mirror would reflect the blast, the mirror would break and destroy the shadow, or the mirror would break and the shadow would be fine.
Two out of three options led to my survival, and I was good with that.
It was, unfortunately, impossible to see what the shadow was doing if I was fully concealed behind the mirror… and I had limited time to act.
I raised my cane, listening. The creature made no sound.
I can’t outfight this thing. I need to outthink it.
I might make it if I rush for the door, but I might not.
I could try to hold out here until the shadow falls, but there’s a good chance it would come around the side of the mirror and annihilate me before then.
Maybe I could fire a distracting shot one way, and then go around the other?
Too risky.
High odds it’s tied to the mirror somehow, given the theme of the room.
What am I doing here? I can test one hypothesis right now.
I pressed my cane against the wooden back of the mirror and hit the switch for the spring-loaded blade.
The blade pierced through the mirror, splintering wood and glass.
And the creature wailed in agony.
Apparently, it could make sound.
I grabbed the cane with both hands, dragging downward as my shadow circled around the mirror.
As my weapon tore through the mirror, the shadow’s chest was torn apart.
I stood, yelling as I ripped the weapon upward, cutting through the top of the mirror.
I bisected the shadow.
It fell to the ground, inert. I shivered as I watched it, trying to push the guilt from my mind.
It wasn’t real. It’s just an illusion, a figment created by the mirror.
I wasn’t certain of that, but I tried to convince myself as best I could.
I slammed a shoulder into the mirror, but it didn’t fall. That was fine.
I retracted the blade, rushing for the golden door. Maybe I had time to explore, maybe I didn’t. I didn’t like my odds if I waited.
I touched the golden gem, revealing a room with a glass table and two glass chairs in the center. There was a board on the table with glass figures atop it. Valor, if I wasn’t mistaken.
Good enough.
I stepped inside.
Chapter II — Valor
The door vanished behind me, of course.
I pondered the significance of the door’s color for a moment. Was the golden gem just representing a more challenging version of the same style of room? Or maybe these colors had some sort of cultural significance. The room could represent the Tyrant in Gold, for example. If it did, I was probably in a great deal of trouble.
I carefully inspected the floor before I made my way forward. The square-shaped grid wasn’t present here, and I didn’t see any runes or indentations. There were, however, four small grates in the corners of the room. They looked inert for now, but I didn’t like the look of them.
The Valor board was the most obvious set piece for a puzzle. I ignored it and headed straight toward the three doors in the back of the room: green; gold; and orange. Just like the last room. I didn’t know how many rooms I’d have to complete in total, but I’d plan to stick with gold unless I saw a good reason to switch.
Especially if I could skip the puzzle entirely.
I moved my hand toward the golden gem, but pulled it back at the last second. There was a keyhole above the gem. I frowned and checked the other doors. They were all set up in the same way.
Okay, I could deal with that. Maybe. I had a key, but I didn’t know if it would fit. I headed back to the gold door, unslung the rope that was still awkwardly hanging over my shoulder, and set down my backpack.
The first thing I noticed was that the rope was a lot shorter than when I had started. I’d lost the looped section, as well as over a dozen feet of length. Maybe it’d been nicked by one of the blasts from my shadowy rival, or maybe it had been bisected when I stepped through the doorway into the next room. That was a scary thought.
I had known the doorways were actually teleporting me, but I hadn’t considered what would happen if I trailed something behind me. Could that be used to my advantage? Maybe I could use the doorways offensively in later challenges somehow. A good thing to keep in mind for the future.
I undid the knot around my waist and folded up the rope, emptying out my backpack to put the remaining rope back on the bottom. When I was removing the book, though, I noticed something odd.
On the cover, “Trials of Judgment” was now written in an antiquated style.
I flipped the book open and gawked at what I saw. The first two pages had been written in.
This is the Room of Reflection. Move swiftly; any tile you stand upon too long will fall into the void below.
The mirror poses a grave danger. Avoid showing your reflection.
I really wished I had seen that earlier, but honestly, I wasn’t sure I would have had time to read it even if I had known the hint was there. Was that the book’s function? Hints for each room? If so, it was incredibly valuable. I flipped to the next page.
This is the Room of Valor. Complete the game to advance.
Beware the rising mist.
I frowned. Mist? What mist?
Oh, the stuff that was rising from the grates on the side of the room. I knew I hated those.
I dug for the key and kept it in my left hand while I buried the other items in my pack. I considered trying it on the doors immediately — maybe it was a way to bypass the puzzle. If it was, however, I suspected I’d only be able to use it once; according to legend, at least, the goddess didn’t like people reusing the same solutions. I would rather save it if I could.
I moved to the table, keeping the key close at hand. The mist was rising, but not particularly rapidly. I guessed I’d have at least a few minutes before it got high enough that I’d be breathing much of it in. Of course, if it was acid mist or something, I’d need to act a lot sooner.
I’d played a lot of Valor in my youth. It was a fairly standard game of tactics, common in noble households like my own. Each side started with twenty pieces, many of which had different functions. Based on what I’d read, I assumed I’d be playing against the tower itself.
If the tower played like an average civilian, I’d have a good chance.
If the tower played like my childhood companion, Sera, well… I’d have better luck inhaling the mist.
The Valor board was stone, and the figures atop it were forged from red and blue gems. The board was in a standard starting configuration, save for a single missing piece on the red side. The ruby statue from the first room, I realized. If I had taken that, I’d have one more piece to play.
Assuming I sat on the red side of the table.
I sat down on the blue side, which was opposite from the entrance. It was unintuitive, but I hadn’t been given any instructions. Nothing said I had to take the side with a disadvantage. My hand shook as I reached for the first piece.
The mist was rising. How long did a game of Valor usually take? A half hour, maybe, against a new opponent? Maybe a little less, if the enemy was missing a key piece. Fifteen minutes.
I didn’t have that kind of time.
I reached across the table for the red side and systemically removed each of their pieces from the board, with the exception of their goddess.
Then, I moved my own visages into pincer positions around the enemy goddess. She was pinned; the game was won.
A red key appeared in the center of the table. I cheered aloud, shamelessly.
Cheating? Nah. I was just playing to win.
I picked up the red key, heading for the gold door.
I knew even before I tried it that the key wasn’t going to fit.
Apparently, brute forcing a victory on the board earned me a specific type of key, not access to any room I wanted.
My winged key from the first room was gold. Would it work on the golden door? Probably, but I still wanted to save it for an emergency.
I knew the orange door might take the red key. I hadn’t been into an orange room, though, and I wasn’t sure if it would have a gold exit as an option — meaning my gold key might be useless if I headed on that path.
If I continued down the gold path, however, I was likely to continue to see orange doors. It was a safer option.
I tried the golden key in the lock for the golden door. It twisted in place with a click. I retrieved the key successfully and then touched the gem. The door slid open.
The next room was fairly straightforward; I could see three doors on the opposite side of a yawning chasm that covered two thirds of the chamber. A standard chasm challenge. The door gems on the opposite side of the room were the same colors as the ones in the current chamber, confirming the pattern.
The chasm wasn’t fathomless this time. I saw water maybe twenty feet below where I stood. There was a ladder on the opposite side of the room, leading out of the water and up to the side with the doors. I also saw two blocks with what looked like levers embedded in them. Presumably, those were switches to make a bridge across the water.
Metal poles were anchored into the walls. There were two on each side, spanning the entire chasm. They were a few inches out from the wall, and it looked like I could potentially grab onto one and walk on the other. It was probably an alternate way to traverse the gap for someone with a lot of dexterity.
Since I was able to successfully retrieve my key, it dispelled a bit of my paranoia about the keys being single-use. I still couldn’t be confident it would always be like that, but it meant I could probably do a little more testing without being overly worried about losing my keys.
Before heading into the room with the chasm, I walked to the orange door to test my hypothesis about the red key. The mist was at nearly waist level now, so I didn’t want to take much longer. The rising vapor was chilly, but didn’t burn my skin or anything, and I wasn’t feeling any obvious symptoms from it.
I turned the key in the lock — it clicked into place. Apparently, red keys and orange doors were compatible. I retrieved the key and opened the door.
The chamber in front of me was gigantic. Looking up from the doorway, I could see up hundreds of feet, with no indication of a ceiling above.
A gigantic eye stared at me from the opposite side of the room. It was perhaps fifty feet away and three times my height.
By that, I mean that the eye was three times my height. Just the eye. The monster it was attached to? Well, I couldn’t get a good look at it from my vantage point, but it was the sort of size you counted in floors, not feet.
I did see azure, shield-like scales around the eye, though. And that gave me a good idea of what I was looking at.
Seiryu, the God Serpent. Guardian of the Serpent Spire. It was looking right at me.
I stepped away from the door, allowing it to close, and rushed into the chasm room.
I never considered myself a coward. I didn’t think of myself as very brave, either. When seeing a god beast, though, my level of bravery was largely irrelevant. No sane mortal would have lingered another moment in that creature’s sight.
I only hoped it wouldn’t follow me. If it did, no walls, no teleportation to other rooms, and no degree of prayer would save me.
Inside the chasm room, I forced my eyes shut, taking deep breaths. I’d been scared before, of course, but—
Seeing the sheer scale of that thing, knowing that it could annihilate me effortlessly… It made me feel smaller. Insufficient.
What am I doing here?
I shook my head, clearing my mind. I had work to do.
I glanced around the room, getting a better look now that I was inside. The challenge seemed fairly straightforward, but first impressions could be deceptive. The floor wasn’t divided into tiles, which was good. I didn’t want to have to take a circuitous route.
I took a few steps closer, nearing the chasm itself. The water started only a few feet below where I was standing. It looked deep, but not insurmountably so; I could see a stone floor maybe around twenty or so feet down. No signs of monsters in the water, but I did see a large grate on my own side that could hide something behind it. Horrible apparitions, maybe, or treasure.
It was too easy. Maybe the room was designed to give me a chance to rest, but it didn’t fit what I knew of Selys. One of the goddess’ many titles was “The Mistress of Trials”, and it was well-known that she enjoyed providing mortals with escalating challenges. She was a gambler of a goddess, and she expected her followers to follow her example.
So, what was the gamble here? Would the obvious hand-holds on the side break away from the wall, sending me into the water below? That was underwhelming. I mean, I’d just made it through two rooms that were almost undoubtedly lethal.
I wasn’t far from the water, so I pulled the dueling cane off my belt and extended it, reaching down to tip the metal blade into the liquid below. There was no obvious reaction when it touched the surface of the pool, so I withdrew the weapon and ever-so-carefully set it down.
I opened my backpack, pressing the top of the quill against the wet metal. No telltale burning. I leaned down and sniffed, and the liquid didn’t smell like much of anything. Finally, I gingerly pressed a finger on my left hand against the liquid. Nothing. Ordinary water, as far as I could tell.
Hrm. If it wasn’t acid, what was I dealing with? Just a time limit, maybe?
The backpack was already out, so I opened the book.
When I flipped to the next page, I saw something new: fresh writing. The text appeared as I watched.
This is the Room of False Choices.
That was it. No further explanation, no detail. In a moment of frustration, I removed the quill from my bag and wrote a reply on the same page. There was plenty of blank space; each room started on a new one.
Dear Mysterious Book Entity,
I would like to inquire about more details pertaining to the Room of False Choices. Would you, perhaps, deign to provide me with insight on how best to proceed?
Yours in inquiry,
Corin of the House Cadence
I chuckled, dispelling some the lingering fear from my own mind. Absurdity had always been an excellent shield against the threat of negative emotions. I did not expect a reply.
Dear Corin,
(May I call you Corin?)
There’s no need to be sarcastic.
But it’s been so long since anyone has written me (or in me?), I suppose I can offer you a glimmer of such insight.
Provided you’re not blind, you can currently see three doors from the entry of your room. Those are options for exiting your chamber, but they are not the best ones.
As much as I am enjoying our correspondence, I must encourage you to hurry. Even as you read, your true choices begin to fade.
Yours in useful insight,
Mysterious Book Entity
I stared blankly at the now-filled text.
What…?
The reply had filled the remainder of that page and carried on to the next. I wasn’t sure what that would mean for help in the next room, but for the moment, I had bigger concerns. I stowed the book and the quill. I was, apparently, wasting time.
So, the puzzle was figuring out the real exit. Or exits.
My mind immediately went to the grate within the pool. That seemed accessible, if I felt like diving in. Which, at present, I didn’t.
I checked the walls on my side next. Were there any hidden panels, signs of secret doors?
I didn’t find anything immediately, but I did get a new idea. I tossed my backpack right back down, grabbing the book and quill and transcribing the text.
Dear Mysterious Book Entity,
I’m looking for someone named Tristan Cadence. He entered the tower five years ago and he may or may not currently be alive. I would be immensely grateful if you could tell me anything about what happened to him.
Thank you,
Corin
I stared at the book with growing nervousness for several moments before I saw the reply.
Dear Corin,
You shouldn’t be asking me about that right now.
You should be more concerned about surviving this room.
Yours,
Mysterious Book Entity
I sighed, putting my things away. More time lost.
I eyed the switches on the other side. What would they do?
One of them had the switch side facing toward me, the other was facing the opposite direction. Interesting.
I heard some kind of clicking noise somewhere, and then a loud scraping that traveled across the entire right wall of the room.
Resh. I really hope that isn’t the god beast looking for me.
Okay. Calm. Let’s hit those switches.
I had enough rope to reach the other side of the chasm, but I didn’t trust myself to lasso one of the switches in a timely fashion. I chose to lift the dueling cane and aim it carefully at the switch on the right, pressing my thumb against the button.
The blast ripped forward, striking true — and snapping the top half of the switch right off. Apparently, those things weren’t very sturdy.
Three options left in my mind: a lasso; a swim; and the bars on the sides.
I went with the lasso. I didn’t trust that water in the slightest.
My first attempt to catch one of the switches missed. The second time, the rope landed in the water, soaking through. That added weight made it harder to throw, but easier to control — I managed to encircle the switch that was facing away from me. With a yank, I pulled it toward me. The water began to drain from the pool.
Which was great in one respect: the water terrified me. Less great was that a comfortable four foot drop into water was now swiftly becoming a twenty-four foot fall into a pair of broken legs.
I had a decision to make, and quickly. I dropped the rope and rushed for the nearest wall, where the hand-holds were, and grabbed on tight. Pulling hard, I determined that the holds seemed sturdy. Then I made my way across the chasm, hand over hand.
The entire room rumbled as I moved, nearly sending me tumbling into the diminishing water below. I wanted to fall sooner rather than later if I was going to; there was enough water left to serve as a cushion, but it wasn’t going to last much longer.
Of course, I didn’t want to fall at all. Even if that liquid was really water and not acid, I didn’t know what other dangers lay within. Maybe a monster would come out of that grate as soon as the water drained, or acid would rise from the floor.
One hand in front of the other. Twice, I lost the grip with one of my hands and had to haul myself back into position… but I made it across.
I walked over to the other switch, the one I had broken, and pushed the remaining half of the handle.
Back where I had made my entrance, three doors appeared with gems of black, silver, and bronze coloring.
I didn’t have the faintest idea what those meant.
My arms ached. I felt something on my head — dust or tiny rocks, crumbling from the ceiling above me. That rumbling wasn’t illusory; the room was beginning to collapse.
I turned back to the chasm. The water was nearly gone now. I had hoped one of the switches would provide a bridge, but that was clearly too much to ask for.
Did I trust my arms to carry me back across the chasm to the new doors? The book had hinted that the exits nearest me were sub-optimal solutions, but it didn’t imply they’d be deadly. I might be better off taking the “easy” route out and testing myself in the next room.
I found myself making my way over to the pit’s edge, but not to cross it. Instead, I gripped the ladder, slowly climbing down.
I needed to know what was behind that grate.
The ladder was steel, slippery from contact with the water, but embedded in the wall similar to the handrails. It was sturdy and easy to climb.
I tested a foot against the ground before dropping off the ladder entirely. The floor itself seemed solid, and I didn’t see any signs of other traps.
I made my way to the grate. It was taller than I was and blocked by iron bars. I saw a keyhole on the right side of the gate, but it wasn’t marked with any specific color, nor was there a gem like on the doors above. Beyond the bars, I could see only darkness.
I stuck the back of the quill through the bars first. It came back perfectly intact. The blackness wasn’t some kind of annihilating field, at least.
I slowly tried a finger next. There was no pain, no wetness. Nothing uncomfortable.
The floor rumbled.
This may not be a gem-studded door, but I think it qualifies as a non-standard exit.
I readied the dueling cane, stepped back, and blasted the bars off the gate. I had chosen my exit.
I stepped into the dark.
Chapter III — Limited Options
I was immensely relieved when I found myself standing in an illuminated tunnel. The walls hugged close around me. The tunnel was roughly cylindrical, and barely wider than I was.
I turned around, finding a circular door behind me. There was no obvious lock, just a clear gemstone at the center.
Interesting.
I opened the door immediately. It led into a hexagonal chamber with pristine white walls. The walls were somewhat less important than the massive pendulums swinging back and forth throughout the room.
I was barely quick enough to step back before one of them swished out of the doorway. I’d been inches away from being pulverized — the swinging spheres were solid stone, maybe four feet in diameter, and moving fast enough to pulp me.
Odd that the trap swung outside of the door… I’ve never seen one of the traps exit the boundary of a room before. What was it doing before I walked in? Did the pendulums activate when I approached, or was that sphere slamming into the door before I opened it? I didn’t hear anything hitting the wall, but it could be covered in sound-proofing runes.
Now out of the pendulum’s swinging range, I took a deep breath and looked at the room a bit more closely. Five different pendulums, and for variety, a scythe-like blade swinging near the center. Each pendulum had a different trajectory.
One more swinging in parallel on the left side of the room.
Two swinging perpendicular to the first, located on the right side of the room.
One final pendulum swinging diagonally, near the rear of the left side.
More interestingly, there were square-shaped crystalline sections on various parts of the walls, roughly four feet across. A blue one on the ceiling, a red one on the right wall, and a yellow one on the floor below where one of the pendulums were swinging.
No doors, aside from the entrance. The crystalline sections were presumably the exits.
Evaluating the speed of the swinging balls of doom, I figured I could make it out of the doorway and onto the right side of the room between swings if I really wanted to.
I really didn’t.
I stepped further away from the door, allowing it to close. The pendulum cracked against the door a moment later, and I shuddered at the sound of the impact. Fortunately, the door remained intact. I didn’t see any signs of damage on my side of it, either.
I decided I’d consider this a potential exit route, but I was interested in seeing what was at the end of the hall. Also, I was even more interested in not getting stuck in a room filled with whirling death traps.
The hall was long enough that I managed to slip my dueling cane back on my belt and unsling my backpack to remove the book before I reached the end of it. I skipped to the last section with writing.
You shouldn’t have done that.
I blinked.
I put the book away.
The path terminated at a rectangular chamber, and I could immediately see why the book had been concerned.
First, there was the dead body.
Blood pooled around a corpse in the center of the chamber, some of it looking congealed. The victim was a man around my age, dressed in fancy clothes. His most distinctive characteristic was the hole in his chest, roughly the size of my fist. It went straight through his body, as perfectly cylindrical as the hallway I emerged from.
He wasn’t the only one there, however.
At the back of the room were three smaller chambers constructed from some sort of transparent material, likely a type of glass or crystal.
Each chamber held a single person.
Two of them were looking at me.
The chamber on the far right held a woman in her twenties, leaning forward against the transparent wall. I barely heard the banging; something seemed to be dampening the sound. She wore garb I’d associate with a traveling merchant: a lot of pouches; a couple necklaces; and heavy boots and gloves. From her dark brown skin, I assumed she was Caelish. After a moment, she knocked on the wall, frowning at me.
The central chamber held a black-haired man wearing a silver eye mask. The exposed section on the bottom of his face was light skinned and clean shaven, the latter point implying that he was either relatively young or hadn’t been in the cell for very long. He leaned against the back wall of the chamber, his arms folded. The hint of a long sheathed weapon, most likely a sword, was visible beneath his ornate overcoat.
My heart stopped for an instant when I looked at him. The masked man looked almost like my brother.
Tristan had seemed taller, but I’d been twelve years old when he’d left. Maybe that was just my memories playing a trick.
Their weight and build were about right. The figure in the cell looked a bit more athletic, but five years was a long time to potentially put on some muscle.
His hair was too dark, too long, but that could be explained by hair dye and the passage of time.
His skin was too light, but maybe he was sick from all this time in a cell…
I shook my head. The similarities were enough to trigger painful memories, but the differences were too pronounced. I wanted it to be my brother in there, but it wasn’t him. I’d have to find Tristan later.
On the far left was another prone figure, a boy. He looked a few years younger than me. His skin was even darker than the young woman’s, nearly pitch black. His head was shaved, and he had an extensive web-like tattoo in white ink across his forehead. No pool of blood around him, fortunately.
Upon seeing the woman continue to pound on the wall, I realized what I was seeing: prison cells. They were trapped inside.
And someone — possibly their jailor — was dead right outside.
Disconcerting.
I frowned, moving toward the corpse. The masked man raised a single hand while I approached, giving a curt shake of his head.
Was the body a trap? Or was he just saying that it was far too late for the victim?
Or maybe he didn’t want me to know how the man had been killed?
I glanced around the room, looking for anything vaguely cylindrically shaped on the walls. I didn’t find anything of the kind, but I did find a hexagonal panel on the floor, not far from where the man had fallen.
Was the dead man a candidate like me, someone who had stumbled upon the jail?
Resh.
Carefully, I went to the body, ignoring the masked man. I avoided the hexagonal shape, glancing from side to side as I knelt.
The woman who had been pounding on the wall gave me a curt nod.
I took that as sign that I was safe to continue, reached down, and rolled the body toward me.
I heard a click.
I jumped backward just in time to avoid the spear of light that flashed across the room from left to right, flickering and fading as it hit the opposite wall.
Shuddering where I stood, I looked down, finding a small depressed tile beneath the body I had just moved. I’d just re-triggered the trap that had killed him.
If I hadn’t seen the body, I might have died in the same way.
His eyes stared open in disbelief. I thought I recognized him from the line outside, but I was probably fooling myself. There were hundreds of candidates.
I had always known these tests had the potential to be fatal, but somehow, seeing this had finally made it real.
I leaned down and closed his eyes, shaking my head.
“I’m sorry you died like this. I hope your spirit finds peace.”
They were hollow words, and I knew it.
I searched through what he was carrying. It wouldn’t do him any good now.
There wasn’t much of use. He was wearing a sword and dagger on his belt. The dagger looked valuable, with the hilt being carved into a golden lion’s head. I left them both, instead taking the glove off his right hand. It had an unfamiliar symbol embroidered on it in gold, similar to my own glove. A family symbol.
I slipped it into my bag. I’d look for them.
I could feel the eyes of the prisoners on me, but I didn’t care. I continued going through his belongings, searching the pouches at his side. Food, water, a candle. A key, blue in color.
I took the key, putting it in my pack, and carefully made my way over to the crystalline walls of the cells.
“—hear me?” I caught the voice of the woman. She was a bit muffled, but audible. I watched every step as I approached, and just in case, I scanned the ceiling as well. I found a few more trap panels on the floor, but nothing visible on the roof.
“I can hear you,” I said at normal volume. She nodded, and the black-haired man finally moved, approaching the corner of his cell where he could get closest to us.
“Good. Don’t do anything yet.” She looked like she was talking loudly, nearly yelling. I could hear her a little better now that I was close. “Don’t touch the walls.”
I had been just about to touch the walls.
“Okay,” I said. “What’s going on here?”
The masked man tapped a fist on the inside of his wall. “Crystalline structure. Nearly unbreakable. I could manage it, but the cells are warded. If I broke mine, the wards on the other two would trigger defenses.”
Warded?
I glanced at the crystalline walls more carefully, narrowing my eyes. I wasn’t attuned yet, but I could see some hints of blue energy within the crystalline structure. They looked almost like hovering letters.
Yep, warded.
“Listen closely,” the woman said. “I’m Vera Corrington. If you help me get out of here, I can help get you nearly anything—”
“You should help the kid,” the man cut in. “He’s been unconscious for nearly two days. Dehydrated, most likely.”
“Don’t be a fool.” Vera glanced at the masked man. “The child has no chance of making it out on his own, and the key is only going to work once.”
I frowned, looking at Vera. “Exactly which key do you mean?”
Vera folded her arms. “The blue one you found on that poor bastard’s body. There should be locks outside each of our cells, but these things eat keys. You won’t be able to help all of us.”
The masked man walked to the center of his cell, tapping a part on the wall. I could just barely see a keyhole there, now that he was indicating it.
Resh. One key, three locks.
Was this a part of the test?
It easily could be seen that way, if I broke it down into component parts. A dead body to indicate the traps. I could only free one person. The obvious option — the child — might already be dead, and a waste of a key. A man and a woman were the other options, maybe to appeal to people of the opposite gender?
Or, of course, it could actually be a prison.
Had I found a place in the tower I wasn’t supposed to be?
It seemed unlikely. The goddess was supposed to observe everything in the tower and guide our paths. At least, according to legend.
Was it possible that the prison was real, but that the goddess had guided me here? To give me a chance to free one of them, or maybe all of them?
There were too many things I didn’t know. I had to treat the situation as real — meaning that I was actually being given a chance to free someone who was trapped in the tower.
Someone like Tristan.
“Has either of you met someone named Tristan? Another prisoner, maybe?”
The two adults looked at each other, and then both shook their heads.
The masked man spoke. “Others have come and gone, but I haven’t heard of anyone by that name.”
Vera jerked a thumb at the man. “This guy would know. He’s been in here for weeks, if you believe his stories. And he can survive longer, too, which is why you should free me.”
I sighed. Shouldn’t have hoped for anything this soon. I just need to stick to the plan and make the climb to the top.
In the meantime, maybe I can help someone else.
I scratched my chin. Truthfully, I wasn’t certain I should free anyone. If they were here, wasn’t that the goddess’ will?
Thinking that way wasn’t going to get me anywhere, though. If everything here was part of the goddess’ plan, freeing them was just as likely to be what Selys wanted. And if the goddess wanted people my age to bleed out on the floors of her towers, well, I wasn’t certain I could trust her judgment.
It was a blasphemous way to think, but Tristan’s disappearance had changed me.
I looked at the masked man. “Not making any argument for me to free you?”
He shook his head. “That child is dying. Vera is right when she says it may be too late, but I wouldn’t want it on my conscience if he died when he could be saved.”
I nodded. I couldn’t disagree with that reasoning.
“Tall dark and shady over there has a point, but he’s not mentioning another possibility. He’s not all that attached to me. Might be that if you free the kid, he’ll break out of his own cell and make me dead.”
The masked man shook his head. “You’re paranoid.”
She tilted her head to the side. “A few days stuck with you and anyone would be.”
“What are the two of you doing in here, anyway?” I folded my arms. “What is this place?”
Vera sighed, running fingers through greasy hair. “Stepped in a place I shouldn’t have. Happens to delvers all the time.”
I frowned. “Delvers?”
The masked man spoke next. “A fancy term for looters.”
Vera gave a crooked smile, highlighting a scar across her upper lip. “I prefer ‘treasure hunter’.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, there are traps all over these towers. Some of them are merciful enough to be fatal. Others set off alarms, or drop you into places like this. It was the first for me, the second for this Keras over here.”
Keras bristled. “If by ‘dropped’ you mean ‘teleported’. I wouldn’t get caught in a mere pit.”
“Right, sure you wouldn’t. Anyway, we’re equally stuck, but you’re the wanted criminal.” Vera turned back to me. “And if you let the kid out, there are good odds he’s going to cut himself loose. Which is a shame, because all the fire and lightning from those wards is going to be terrible for my complexion.”
If people like them could get “caught” and imprisoned here, there’s a good chance it’s happened to others. That makes the odds Tristan is still alive somewhat higher…but I don’t know how long someone could survive in a cell like this.
Vera’s argument made me nervous, but I couldn’t just leave a child to die. I moved toward the child’s cell with the utmost care and raised the key.
“Thank you,” Keras said.
I glanced at him. “After I free the child, stay there. If you try to break yourself out while Vera is still in her cell, I’ll deliberately trigger every trap I can to make sure you never walk out of here.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
Vera let out a low hiss. “I don’t like this. You’d better know what you’re doing, kid.”
I glanced to her. “I’m pretty sure I do. One question, though. How do you know it’s the blue key that opens these doors?”
She shrugged. “It’s the same color the jailor uses. Why?”
I pointed at the lock. “The keyhole is gray. Could they accept other keys, maybe?”
Vera nodded. “There’s a chance, but other keys might also trigger the wards. It’d be a risk.”
I nodded, considering, as I turned the blue key in the lock.
A section of the wall vanished entirely, taking the key with it. That explained how the key was “used up”, as they explained.
I didn’t step inside the cell immediately; it could have easily been another trap. I removed my rope from my backpack and tried to get the lasso around the kid’s waist.
Vera quirked an eyebrow. “Seriously? I get that you’re cautious, kid, but that seems like overkill.”
“A lack of caution is why we’re in these cells, Vera.” Keras leaned on the wall next to her cell.
“Speak for yourself. My room wasn’t even remotely fair.”
So, she’d failed a challenge and ended up here? Could Tristan have done the same, and ended up in another prison?
It was a chance. Not a good chance, but a possibility. If he was alive, that meant that asking the goddess for the boon of returning him would be much more likely to succeed. People said the goddess could raise the dead, but I didn’t know of any confirmed cases. Just legends.
I clung to that hope as I managed — barely — to get the lasso around the kid’s waist.
“You’re going to hurt him.”
That was Vera speaking, which was interesting. She hadn’t sounded all that concerned about the kid before.
I turned back toward Vera. “You really want me to step in there? There’s a chance the wall will close behind me, or that it’ll trigger another trap.”
“At least…move him slowly, yeah?”
I nodded, inspecting the floor carefully before I dragged the boy’s body across it. The cell wasn’t large, so it didn’t take me long to get him outside. I gingerly picked him up and set him on a non-trapped part of the floor, then turned him over.
His chest still rose and fell. His lips, however, were cracked and torn.
I didn’t really know how feed an unconscious kid water. Maybe one of the others in the cells did, though.
I stood up, brandishing my red key.
Vera narrowed her eyes at me. “Now where’d you get a thing like that?”
“Room with a Valor board.” I turned to Keras. “You seemed to understand the wards… I take it you’re attuned?”
“In a manner of speaking. That’s not important. I do understand the wards, for the most part.”
Enigmatic, but sufficient. “All right. Can you determine if an incorrect key will trigger the wards?”
He knelt by his own keyhole, examining the crystal. “I don’t believe so.”
I quirked a brow. “You don’t believe?”
“I’m not an expert at this style of warding.”
Not good. “Okay. Do you think the explosion would kill people outside the cells if the wards are triggered?”
He shook his head. “No. They are a failsafe for destroying prisoners. The jailor would need to be able to do it and remain safe from right outside.”
I looked to Vera. “Do you know anything that would contradict what he’s saying?”
“No, he’s a little scary, but I think he knows what he’s talking about. So, um, if you’re going to free one of us…”
I looked back to Keras. “If I freed Vera, would you be able to break yourself out and survive the resulting explosion?”
He nodded once.
“Uh, before you do that,” Vera stepped away from her cell door, “I should probably remind you that he’s a wanted criminal.”
Keras put a hand to his forehead. “I’m just a foreigner, Vera. That doesn’t automatically make me a criminal.”
“I’m just sayin’, innocent people don’t usually run around in masks.”
A fair point.
And if he was a criminal, getting him to swear he wasn’t going to harm us wouldn’t really mean much.
I wasn’t confident that freeing everyone was the right choice, but I was even less confident I was going to make it out of here on my own while trying to care for an injured child.
“Keras, I’m Corin. You want to tell me what your side of the story is?”
I was humanizing myself, trying to diminish the chance he’d murder me the second he got out.
“Not now.”
That was not a good answer.
“But, if you get me out of here, I’ll tell you when we’re out of the tower.”
An implication that we’d be leaving together. I could work with that.
I made my way over to Vera’s cell, holding the red key. “You both okay with taking this risk?”
I could see a hint of fear in Vera’s expression, but she hid it well. “I think I’ll die of boredom if I don’t take this chance. So, yeah, go for it.”
The masked man just nodded.
I put the key in the lock.
Nothing happened. I tried to turn the key and it didn’t budge.
“Well, that was anticlimactic.” Vera sighed loudly.
I put the red key back in my back and withdrew the gold one. Vera blinked at me.
“Do you just have a bag full of keys or something?”
I shook my head. “Last one.”
I’d been hoping to hold onto the gold key, since it had been the one coded to the path I’d been taking so far. Still, I couldn’t in good conscience leave without trying it.
I tried the gold key.
It turned. The door to Vera’s cell vanished.
She blinked, hesitantly reaching a hand into the space outside.
A broad grin spread over her face as her hand exited the cell.
She stepped outside, grabbing me in a hug. “Ooh, yes! Freedom! Thanks, kid.”
I may have blushed.
I turned my head toward the masked man. I didn’t see him move. The space where he’d been blurred, and I heard the sound of metal ringing against stone.
A section of the wall of his chamber had been cut away, leaving nothing but a pile of cleanly-sliced rubble where it had once stood. Keras’ weapon was already sheathed again. I never saw it in his hand.
Holy goddess. What…?
There was no sign of triggering the wards Keras had mentioned. Had he been lying, or were the wards simply disabled because two of the doors were already open? I couldn’t be sure.
“We should leave.” Keras moved out of the cell with deliberate slowness.
He stepped over the trap that had killed my predecessor, moving to the child’s side and kneeling down. He looked at me. “Do you have water?”
I nodded, fumbling for my backpack, and withdrew a flask. I tossed it to him without a second thought. He caught it, of course.
Vera watched the whole exchange with narrowed eyes.
Keras uncapped the bottle, tilting the young boy’s head at an angle. Then, he opened the child’s mouth and poured water down his throat.
The boy coughed, but he swallowed some of the water. A good sign, I hoped. I was never very good at medicinal matters.
The masked man tossed the flask back toward me. I missed the catch, but Vera caught it.
“Mind if I take a swig?”
I shook my head.
She drank deeply from the flask, making a satisfied “ah!” sound, and then handed it back to me.
I replaced the flask in my bag, looking back to her. “There’s some water on the body, too. I didn’t take it.”
Vera knelt down next to the corpse, taking the bag that carried his food and water. “Thanks. This’ll be useful.”
She looked nervous. I felt the same way.
“Come.” Keras knelt down, picking up the unconscious child. He draped the kid over his shoulder and stood back up, leading the way out of the room. Vera and I carefully avoided the trapped spots on the floor, following him into the hallway.
He walked quickly, which let Vera and me deliberately fall a bit behind. I turned my head to her. “You know much about him?”
She lifted her hands and shrugged. “He was in there a lot longer than I was, from what I understand. I’ve only been here a few days, thank the goddess. Seen him do a few more magic tricks in his cell. Not sure what his attunement is. I’ve never seen anything like that sword trick, cutting stone.”
I thought on it. My best guess? He had multiple attunements. That was rare, but not unheard of. Maybe the Legionnaire attunement and something related to swords?
But that wouldn’t explain his speed.
Three attunements?
Practically unheard of, but I couldn’t think of a better explanation. I’d have to get more information first.
“He’s a delver, like you are?”
She shook her head. “Pretty sure he’s not. A climber, probably.”
I knew that term; it meant someone who was trying to reach the top of the tower. There were legends that anyone who reached the top of one of the six Shifting Spires would receive a blessing from Selys, and that someone who conquered all six towers would be lifted into the skies to reside with the visages.
Most people didn’t take the latter legend seriously, but there were plenty of people who claimed that they had reached the top of a tower and been given something by one of the visages: wealth; enchanted items; maybe even an additional attunement. The stories varied from person to person. It was likely there was something at the top.
The promise of a divine reward was a tremendous temptation. There were hundreds of climbers in each city, many of whom already had attunements. Climbers entered through different gates than the one used for Judgments, so they could go inside in groups.
Sane people kept their groups to a half dozen or so, though. The tower punished anything it saw as a threat, and everyone knew the stories about what had happened when it did.
The Kingdom of Feria had once tried to invade the fifth tower.
It was nothing but dust and ruins, now.
We continued walking down the hallway. In the limited time before we reached the next room, I’d have to gather as much information as I could.
“Do you think he’s a danger to us?”
Vera shrugged. “Of course. But we’re still better off following in his wake.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”
She put a hand on the nearby wall. “Because we just broke out of a prison so, this is a threat to us, too. The tower doesn’t like it when you break the rules.”
I frowned. “You make it sound like the tower is sapient.”
“How else do you explain the constantly changing layout? The treasures that appear for one person who completes a challenge, but not another? Do you really think Selys is watching every room in every tower simultaneously, hand-picking who gets attunements and re-sculpting chambers?”
“I tend to lean toward Bermer’s spectral theory of tower design.”
“Oh, you’re a little scholar. How adorable! I haven’t read that one, so you’re going to have to fill me in.”
“Incorporeal minions, essentially. Dozens of them for each tower.”
Vera nodded, running a hand through her hair again. She looked disheveled, which was unsurprising if she’d been here for days. “Yeah, I could see that. Amounts to about the same thing as a thinking tower, though.”
“Sort of. If there are multiple entities, they might have to communicate with each other, which means some routes might be safer than others. And maybe they wouldn’t all be in agreement on how to handle us.”
“Mmm.” She gestured toward Keras. “Looks like we’re about out of time, kid.”
Keras reached the door at the end of the hall. I rushed forward just as the door opened, remembering the trap a moment too late.
The pendulum arced through the doorway, thousands of pounds of swinging stone. Keras’ hand blurred. The sphere, now sliced into a dozen pieces, clattered harmlessly across the floor.
I blinked.
I really need to stop being surprised by what he can do.
I’d seen a lot of attuned using magically-enhanced swordsmanship over the years. My Father took me to watch tournaments on a regular basis, both ones he competed in and otherwise. I’d seen championship bouts between experienced veterans.
A lot of them had been fast.
Keras was definitely faster. I’d been paying attention this time and I still hadn’t seen him draw his weapon.
I fell back to where Vera was inching forward. “So, uh, if he does decide he doesn’t like us, do you think you could handle him?”
Vera made a half-snort, half-laugh, and slowly shook her head. “No, kid. I’m attuned, too, but I’m not a monster like that. I’m not even specialized in fighting.”
My hands flexed in the air. “Well, at least if he decides to kill us, he’d probably do it quickly.”
“So bleak,” she noted. “Let’s focus on the positives, yeah? Looks like he’s solving the room for us.”
Keras was, in fact, “solving” the room… by slicing the other pendulums in the same way he had the first. When he was done with those, he grabbed the swinging scythe by the bottom, stopping it without difficulty. He yanked downward, breaking the chain that attached it to the ceiling. The blade fell to the floor.
I looked back at Vera. “I’m pretty sure we were supposed to use those pendulums to break through the crystal sections on the walls.”
She waved one hand back and forth dismissively. “It won’t be a problem.”
We made it into the room, stepping over the rubble from the destroyed traps, and watched as Keras moved to the red crystal section on the wall. Another blur in front of him, with no obvious immediate impact this time.
When he kicked forward, a large section of wall fell away. Not just red crystal, the solid stone surrounding it fell away. Enough that a crude doorway had formed in its wake. I couldn’t see anything but blackness beyond it.
He walked through and vanished.
I looked at the other crystal sections on the floor and ceiling. “We could split up from him here.” I patted the dueling cane on my hip. “I think there’s a good chance I could blast through that floor section.”
She shook her head. “As dangerous as Keras is, he’s our best chance of making it through here alive. C’mon. Gotta follow him before the rooms shift.” She grabbed my hand, leading me forward.
While she led me by the hand, I processed her statement. Would the rooms change while we were inside them? I hadn’t seen that happen, but it wasn’t impossible. In fact, with a large enough number of people inside the towers, it seemed likely that it had to happen on occasion.
I’d have to research that more when I got the chance.
Vera vanished the moment she hit the boundary between rooms. It looked as holding hands hadn’t caused me to be included in the teleportation effect. I briefly wondered how Keras and the kid he was carrying had been affected, since they had appeared to vanish together. Was it based on consciousness? Or maybe proximity?
Either way, I was alone amid the shattered traps. Another window to break off from the group if I wanted to.
Vera had warned me about the shifting rooms, but I figured I could spare a few seconds to try to get some more information. I hastily pulled the book out of my backpack. I probably wasn’t going to get another chance at this.
You are in one of the tower’s holding chambers. Do not interact with the prisoners. Leave immediately. The people contained within the cells are not to be trusted.
I flipped to the next page.
That was a mistake.
You are risking a great deal, Corin, and I will not be able to protect you if you continue down this path.
No one is placed in a chamber like that one without a good reason.
And the next.
You are in the Room of Arcs, or what remains of it. You see now the power of one of the people you have freed. Recapturing them would be beyond your present abilities. Your best hope is to escape them.
That was not reassuring. I wrote a brief reply…
Thank you. Why are you helping me?
…and slammed the book shut. I would read more when time permitted.
I stepped into the next room.
I arrived in what looked more like a noble’s manor than another chamber of the tower. The walls were painted white and adorned with paintings and hanging weapons. At roughly equal intervals between the paintings were standing suits of armor with intricate etchings of silver and gold.
Three crystal chandeliers hung from a ceiling high above, each with a differently colored central crystal that bathed a section of the room with light. The way the lights overlapped made the room an effect that I imagined looked something like a rainbow. I wasn’t sure because I’d never actually seen a rainbow, but I understood the concept.
Pretty.
It was a fleeting thought, and one that was unusual for me, but the mixtures of lights pleased me in a visceral way. I shook my head to dismiss the thought. I had more important things to be thinking about.
I was standing on a plush red carpet, which covered a path with three branches. The left and right paths led to identical double-doors, tall and wooden. The central path led up a carpeted stairway.
The central chamber was huge. I was probably a hundred feet from the stairway or either of the other exits. Keras stood at the base of the stairs in a low stance, his hand on the hilt of his weapon. The unconscious boy was lying nearby. Four tall pillars reached toward the ceiling, and Vera was currently taking cover behind one of them.
I could see why. We were not alone.
At the top of the stairs was a figure in golden armor. He was at least seven feet tall, a crystalline sword held in his right hand. Feathered wings stretched from his back, flexing in the air, spanning a width greater than the figure’s height. A visible aura of scintillating light emanated from his body. His blonde hair was cut in a short military style, his face perfectly a sculpted image of masculine valor.
Katashi, the Visage of Valor, barred our path.
It could have been a trick. An illusion, a shape-shifting monster, a simulacrum. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t willing to risk confronting even the shadow of a god. I rushed to the same pillar Vera was standing behind.
“Might want to find a different spot, kid. We’re kind of making ourselves a target if we’re in the same place.”
Right. I’d just go right back out into the open… “Uh, maybe in a minute.” Maybe not. “What’d I miss?”
“Oh, you know, just a visage of the goddess appearing in a flash of fire and thunder. Nothing big.” Her voice was tense, despite the levity of her words.
“Any idea—”
The visage took a step forward. I felt the entire room vibrate as he moved. His presence hung like a shroud in the air, pushing me down and forcing the breath from my lungs. Vera and I braced ourselves against the nearby pillar.
Keras remained standing with no apparent difficulty, raising a hand to scratch his chin. “I would appreciate it if you’d stop that.”
“You are not welcome here, interloper.” Katashi waved his right hand toward Keras. I was barely able to discern the blur that appeared in the air as he made the gesture. Keras flew backward like he’d been hit by a train, slamming into one of the support pillars with an audible crack, and falling to the floor. I winced at the impact.
Keras picked himself up, dusting off his coat. It was only as he stepped forward that I saw thick cracks along the surface of the pillar where he’d struck.
How the…?
A collision with enough force to crack a pillar should have shattered a human’s bones into mush. I briefly considered the possibility that Keras was some sort of artificial construct made of a substance harder than stone, but he moved too quickly and smoothly for that explanation to be likely. Maybe he was protected by some sort of barrier…but that didn’t explain the damage to the pillar itself. Did he have some method of manipulating kinetic energy? I’d never heard of an attunement for that, but it wasn’t impossible.
I turned my head toward Vera. “You wouldn’t happen to have any way of protecting us, would you?”
She snorted. “Duck and hide, kid. Duck and hide.”
I ducked and hid.
Meanwhile, the visage had tilted his head to the side, confusion on his face. “How do you remain unharmed?”
Keras raised his gaze from his clothing to the visage before him. “Trade secret,” he replied. There was a moment of pause before he spoke again. “Are we done now?” His voice was exasperated. “Can we have a conversation?”
The visage stood a little taller, his expression dark. “Talk.”
“Thank you,” Keras said. “You are one of the ones they call visages, correct?”
Katashi gave the slightest nod. “Katashi.”
“They’ve been calling me Keras here. Does your goddess hear what you hear? Does she see what you see?”
The visage turned his head to the side. “I have no reason to answer that.”
Keras frowned. “I mean you and your people no harm. I was hoping to get a message through to your goddess.”
Katashi made a broad gesture, indicating the room. “You tear away pieces of a sacred place, then seek to speak to the goddess? Your insolence is astounding.”
“Was that a problem?” Keras scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish. “I was told that we could make the way up the tower any way we wanted.”
“Cutting through the walls to make your own entrances and exits is not a respectful method, outsider.”
They were talking now, which was good, and the pressure from Katashi’s…whatever he was doing…seemed to have lessened. I turned my eyes to the unconscious boy, still at the base of the stairs. If they resumed fighting, which seemed likely, he was extraordinarily vulnerable.
Speaking up now, with tensions high, was probably a terrible move. I didn’t really know what I was getting into here. Katashi kept calling Keras an interloper, and I wasn’t quite sure what that implied. Someone from outside the city? Or, thinking bigger, maybe someone from outside the continent? The latter was supposed to be impossible, given the continent-wide barrier that we had in place, but people didn’t usually break stone pillars when they collided, either.
Terrible move or not, it was probably my best chance of keeping that poor kid alive.
I stepped out from around the pillar, lowering my head to the carpet in supplication. It was a familiar gesture, one I’d done at shrines to the goddess a thousand times as a youth, though I’d fallen out of practice since Tristan’s disappearance. I’d never prayed directly to a visage, of course. I’d never seen a visage before, not even from a distance.
“Great Visage of Selys, forgive me for my insolence in speaking to you without permission. I was amidst my Judgment when I stumbled on these people, and beg your leave to take the unconscious child and continue in my tests.”
Katashi turned to me. I kept my eyes low, not daring to meet his gaze. “Your respect is a credit to your bloodline, scion of House Cadence. I will consider your request. Assist me and you may earn my blessing.”
I pressed my head further into the carpet. “Thank you, Great Visage. How may I assist you?”
I felt the pressure lift from my shoulders. Breath swam into my lungs. I lifted my head, noting that Katashi had turned back toward Keras.
The visage pointed at Keras. “Do not allow this one to escape.”
Oh, curse it all.
The last thing I wanted was to get involved in a battle between these two, at least one of which literally had deific levels of power.
Nevertheless, if I didn’t act at all, now I risked antagonizing the visage. That couldn’t possibly end well.
I was shaking as I stood up, unclipping the dueling cane from my belt. I looked at Vera. She shook her head at me vehemently.
I sighed, walking to take a position near the doorway on the left side of the room. I chose that exit because it was the furthest from where the combatants stood, meaning that it was the spot where I was least likely to be a victim of collateral damage. I tried to position myself in alignment with one of the pillars, so that it could also serve as a shield.
If Keras came for me, I didn’t like my odds of being able to stop him. I thought of nearby door with wistful longing, but I didn’t even know if I could open it. It wasn’t like I could check without enraging the visage.
I could have sided with Keras, of course. He had survived Katashi’s opening moves. There was a possibility he had the upper hand in this conflict. But both my gut and my common sense told me that was unlikely.
Keras was terrifyingly strong, one of a dozen people on the continent who might have had more than two attunements.
The visage, though… He’d have all of them, including some that no human had access to. Scholars argued about how many total attunements existed, but the best guess was at least fifty, each providing a broad variety of abilities associated with a particular theme. Their benefits were cumulative, so someone with two defensive attunements would be extraordinarily resilient.
With fifty attunements? Well, I mentioned the broken Kingdom of Feria before. Its destruction had taken the Visage of Law less than a day.
The Visage of Valor gave me a nod, apparently approving of my position. There was still another exit to block, but Vera wasn’t moving for it. She stayed behind the pillar, giving herself as much cover as possible. Her eyes were scanning everywhere, searching for openings. Opportunities.
“I would prefer not to bring other people into this.” Keras folded his arms. “And, moreover, I would rather not fight at all.”
It was somewhat endearing that Keras was still trying to reach a diplomatic solution, even if it probably was just to save his hide. I felt bad about standing in his way. It was a small betrayal, even if it was mostly symbolic.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
I think he heard me. I hoped he did.
Katashi lowered his weapon, shaking his head. “Though it may seem contrary to my title, I do not relish battle. Nevertheless, you are a threat to the residents of this tower, and I cannot permit that. If it is any consolation, I will make your end quick.”
Keras turned his head down, shaking slightly. It took me a few seconds to realize that he was laughing. As he looked upward, a grin spread across his face.
“It never can be easy, can it?” Keras turned his head toward where Vera still hid behind the pillar. “Get the kid out of the way before we start this.”
Vera began to move, but Katashi spoke a single word. “No.”
No?
Why wouldn’t Katashi want the kid to be clear of the battlefield?
I raised the dueling cane, my hand still aching from my earlier uses of the weapon pulling mana through my veins. I was no longer pointing it toward Keras.
I hoped I wouldn’t have to use it.
Several things happened at once.
Vera broke from cover, rushing toward the fallen child.
Katashi raised his left hand with his palm forward, golden light forming in his grasp. His palm was pointed at Vera.
Keras moved. He was a blur, impossible for my ordinary eyes to discern. When a twisting helix of light ripped forward from Katashi’s hand, Keras appeared in front of Vera, deflecting the blast with a casual swipe of his own left hand.
“Go.”
Vera grabbed the child and lifted him over her shoulder, moving toward me with almost painful slowness.
Katashi’s jaw tightened. “I did not permit—”
Keras was next to him in an instant, smashing a fist into the visage’s armored chest. I saw a blast of concussive force on the impact, a spherical wave of disruption.
Katashi took a single step back at the impact, his expression unchanged.
Keras flickered back just in time to avoid a slash from the visage’s crystalline blade.
When Keras reappeared, I realized the left sleeve of his coat had been burned away where the blast of light had connected. The skin beneath was burned and cracked.
He might be faster and stronger than me, but Keras isn’t invincible. This isn’t an even fight. It’s not even close.
What could I do to alter the outcome?
I didn’t even know what they were fighting about, let alone their strengths and weaknesses. If a visage of the goddess said someone needed to die, conventional wisdom said that they needed to die.
But conventional wisdom had also abandoned my brother in this same tower. Conventional wisdom and I hadn’t been on speaking terms since then.
That single punch from Keras looked like it had carried more force than anything I could put out from my dueling cane and it had barely affected the visage. I knew how to pour additional mana into a burst, but I doubted I’d have an impact. Katashi fought armies, some of which contained attuned.
A cheap shot to the head? The lack of armor might have made a difference, but I couldn’t count on my ability to land the shot.
What else did I have at my disposal?
I shrugged off my backpack and found the book.
By the time I looked back, Katashi was surrounded by a flickering aura of burning light. He pointed his crystalline weapon at Vera. I could see the fiery aura gather in his left hand, then flow through his body, glowing brighter until it gathered in his sword, turning the blade white.
“This must be.” There was no inflection in his words.
Vera wasn’t moving fast enough to avoid the helix of incendiary light that emerged from the blade.
Keras blurred again. A streak of silver severed the air, splitting the bolt of light in twain. The deflected energy smashed into the floor, leaving long cracks in the marble.
The swordsman stood a little straighter, his expression grim. The sword he held was long enough to be used in two hands, but he held it with his right with no sign of effort. The silvery blade had only a slim flat surface toward the center, the outer portions angled into viciously sharp edges. A subtle white glow flowed within the blade, a clear sign of an enchantment.
I doubted it would be enough.
I set my dueling cane down, letting Vera approach while I grabbed my quill and flipped through the book to the end.
You have reached the entrance to the second floor of the tower.
You must flee. The visage will not permit you to leave with the prisoners. You don’t stand a chance.
You’re not reading this right now, but if you do…
Please, leave. Please. While you can.
That ink was dry, but new writing appeared as I watched.
The visage will not be distracted for long. You must leave.
I raised the quill to write.
You’re clearly watching here. Can you help us?
No words appeared in the seconds that followed.
Keras shrugged off his coat, revealing a black vest crossed with leather straps. Six sheathed knives were attached to the straps on his back. He kicked his coat to the side, drawing one of the knives with his left hand.
Katashi remained at the top of the stairway, turning his gaze toward Keras and maintaining an impassive expression. He jammed his crystalline sword into the stone floor, bringing his hands in front of him. Globes of flame appeared in the air around him, one after another, spinning and rotating.
Keras flipped the knife in his hand and hurled it straight at the visage’s face.
The visage didn’t even move. The knife impacted an invisible barrier and clattered harmlessly to the ground.
Keras gave the slightest frown.
The burning orbs did move. They weren’t as quick as the lightning, moving only at the speed of a thrown ball. But there were eight of them… and they had different targets.
Seeing Keras’ expression sink, I knew that he couldn’t stop them all.
Vera had almost reached me.
The dueling cane was in my hand before I processed what I was doing. Two clicks in rapid succession. I felt the mana surge through my chest, burning hotter than it ever had.
I blew the two closest spheres of flame out of the air, dispersing them with kinetic force. Keras moved quickly enough to slash five of the others, successfully deflecting the last of the projectiles aimed for Keras and the child.
The last sphere struck him in the back.
The force of the impact barely staggered him, but his vest ignited instantly. He shivered for a moment, wincing, and reached toward his back with his left hand.
The flames pulled away, gathering in his hand.
A wave of his hand across the blade of his sword. The flames swept across the weapon, the weapon’s edges shifting to glow crimson.
I could see the burned skin across his back as he rushed toward the stairs. He was still fast — faster than anyone I’d seen before.
But I could see him. He was slowing down, the wounds weighing on him more than his expression showed.
I looked back at the book.
I will try, child. I will try.
You must leave the room.
He didn’t have to tell me twice.
“Vera, we need to go.”
Vera gave me a curt nod, shifting the burden on her back. The boy was nearly as tall as she was; I was surprised she could carry him at all.
I flipped the book and quill into the pack. Katashi turned his head. He’d heard me, but Keras had nearly flown up the stairs. He didn’t have time to intervene.
The door behind me opened. Vera pushed through.
I gave a last look toward Keras.
He’d reached the top of the stairs. He waved his left hand, and the five remaining daggers slipped out of their scabbards, floating in the air behind him. As I watched, their blades extended as they hovered in formation. They were wings of steel.
He gripped the hilt of his weapon with two hands, the blade still glowing with inner light.
I took a deep breath, retrieving my backpack as the swordsmen began to circle each other, and I fled the room.
Chapter IV — Escape
My right hand was trembling as I gripped the hilt of the dueling cane. Part of it was the pain from drawing too much mana, but a larger part was my state of mind.
I’d sided with a prisoner against a visage of the goddess and I… didn’t feel guilt. I felt like I should have done more.
I’d left Keras behind.
I shook my head, trying to regain my focus. Nothing in this tower was safe, and if Keras did fall, I had little doubt that the visage would follow us and finish what he had started.
This room was rectangular, maybe forty feet across. It was clearly divided into sections that were about ten feet each, each section being elevated a bit above the previous section.
I could see a few tiles in each section that were just a sliver thicker than they should have been — probably traps.
There were dozens of fist-sized holes on the side walls of the room. Probably more traps.
Those weren’t the real problem, though.
Each of those elevated sections in front of us had a set of monsters, and each was more dangerous than the last.
And, predictably, the sole visible exit was on the opposite side of the room.
The monsters in the section right in front of us were the simplest threats possible. Teardrop shaped creatures of gelatinous acid, barely intelligent. Slimes. They were already hopping forward.
Behind them, two massive creatures that resembled bears, but with brown scales and three vicious horns. Barghensi. They were extremely resistant to physical damage, but magic would work — including my dueling cane. Unfortunately, I could barely even hold it at this point.
There was a cylindrical pillar in that section, right between the barghensi. It wasn’t solid stone like the other ones in the previous room; it was some kind of transparent crystalline structure. Maybe just thick glass, but I doubted I’d be that lucky.
Inside the pillar, I could see a sheathed sword floating in what looked like mid-air. At a second glance, I realized my mistake. The sword was submerged in water.
Finally, right in front of the door, an eight-foot tall bronze statue. It had six arms and each arm carried a different weapon.
Its eyes were glowing with crimson light.
Pretty sure that’s a spire guardian.
Spire guardians were deadly monsters that guarded the ways up to higher floors of the tower. I wasn’t supposed to have to face any during the Judgment. They were strong enough to fight fully trained attuned. I knew I didn’t stand a chance by myself.
Vera glanced at the slimes, then back to me. “Switch.”
I understood her meaning immediately, slipping the dueling cane into her grip and lifting the child out of her arms. I didn’t know what level of skill she had with the weapon, but it was our best chance.
Vera swept her arm across the room, rapidly tapping the button on the hilt as she moved. Blasts of force rippled out of the cane’s tip and slammed into an invisible barrier at the boundary between our section and the one in front of us.
Vera grimaced. “Should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. I’ll have to get up there to take care of those. Wait here for now, yeah?”
I nodded as Vera crept ahead. She ducked at the border of one of the raised tiles and felt along the side of it. Fortunately, she didn’t press it down, but I had no idea what she was doing.
Something to do with her attunement, maybe? Some kind of trap disarming magic?
I didn’t see any visible effect when she moved away from the tile. She did something similar along the wall, putting her hand right up against one of the sides of the holes. Then, after a moment, she stuck her hand inside. She pulled it back out a moment later.
She turned her head back toward me. “Don’t step on the raised tiles.”
I’m pretty sure I could have guessed that on my own. “Right.”
Then she stepped on the tile closest to her.
She didn’t.
I stepped backward out of instinct, but it wasn’t necessary. The traps weren’t aimed at me.
A hail of arrows fired out from the holes in the wall directly in line with Vera.
She just grinned, stepped forward, and caught one of the arrows with her off-hand as they whizzed by. She tilted her head to the side after the flurry subsided, inspecting the arrow. “Yeah, these’ll do.”
Then she charged.
She leapt onto the next raised section without resistance. Apparently that barrier was only meant to stop magic, not people.
As she landed, the slimes hopped toward her with surprising speed.
She blasted the first one with the dueling cane three times, then stepped backward as it recoiled, triggering another trap.
Vera dodged the incoming arrows again. The slimes didn’t.
The arrows took care of three of them.
The sole slime she’d already bombarded wasn’t airborne, so it was low enough to the ground that it didn’t get hit. Instead, it just sort of slid across the ground toward Vera until she blasted it twice more. Then it vanished.
And the other slimes vanished along with it.
Not bad.
Vera wasn’t done, though.
She walked forward, avoiding the rest of the traps on that section, and came to rest next to the next one. “Move up,” she instructed me.
I complied quickly, but I moved slowly. Both because I was carrying someone else that was almost my size and because I really didn’t want to set off an arrow trap.
I made it to the next section without incident.
“Great.” Vera hopped onto the barghensi platform.
The barghensi charged.
Vera took a couple shots at the lead barghensi, then tried to step back down to where I was to avoid being barreled over by the still-charging monster.
That, it seemed, was not allowed.
The barrier popped into existence and she bounced off it, stumbling backward.
She managed to regain her footing, but the lead barghensi was almost on top of her.
I set the child down and dug into my pack, but I was far too slow to help.
The barghensi opened its jaws as it closed in.
Vera jumped, pressing the other switch on the dueling cane and landing on the creature’s back. It was pretty impressive, but she fell right off. Not a combat attunement indeed.
The barghensi turned as she fell, rearing up to smash down on top of her. I did the only thing I could think of to help: I threw the candle from my bag at the tile closest to them. It wasn’t very heavy, but I hoped…
The trap triggered.
Vera, still on the floor, was still too low for the arrows to hit her. The barghensi, standing tall, was not so lucky.
In seconds, the first barghensi was riddled with arrows. It fell backward rather than forward and stilled as it struck the ground.
The second barghensi, however, was unharmed.
Vera rolled as it approached, avoiding its charge, and jammed the blade of the dueling cane into its side. The creature roared, turning toward her… and she fired a blast of mana into its open mouth.
The creature shuddered and collapsed, lifeless.
Vera pushed herself to her feet. “Thanks for the assist there. That’d have been a lot messier otherwise.”
My eyes were fixed on the second barghensi’s corpse, and my hand drifted up toward my throat. I wondered what it felt like to swallow a blast like that.
I shook it off. “Glad to help. Can you get back down now that those things are dead?”
She tested it. She could. “Guess we can probably move freely in and out of any section we’ve cleared.”
I pointed at the kid. “Should I put him back at the entrance and help you with that guy, then?” I indicated the bronze statue. “He looks pretty mean.”
It might have been my imagination, but I was pretty sure it turned its head toward us when I said that.
That was disconcerting.
“Not sure if that’s a good idea… you still don’t have an attunement. But I’m not going to refuse help if you insist.”
After seeing her almost get mauled back there? “I insist.”
She helped me move the kid back to the entrance, and then we stepped back to where the barghensi had fallen.
I turned my head to her. “You fought anything like that before?”
She shook her head. “No, but it’ll probably be tough to crack with physical attacks. Doubt the arrows will do much. Maybe the sword in there is special?”
I’d considered the same. Maybe the book knew more, but I was worried about taking the time to send a message and await a response. “Probably worth trying to get it out, at least. And if we can’t, I can just try to distract it while you hit it with the dueling cane?”
Vera nodded. “Sounds good. Lemme see…” She put her hand up against the pillar. “Not glass. It’s just thick ice. I think I can break it.”
I nodded, stepping out of the likely path of any water that the pillar might release. “Go right ahead, then.”
She stepped back, too, then fired a shot from the dueling cane into the center of a pillar. A crack spread across the surface where the mana had connected.
The statue moved. An echoing voice emerged from its mouth. “Defilers!”
That didn’t sound good.
There was grinding sound, then a crack as the statue’s foot shattered the stone where it stepped.
Vera shot the pillar again, broadening the crack.
The statue bent its knees and leapt, right at Vera.
“Resh!” Vera dodged out of the way as it descended, already beginning to swing its swords at her.
She ducked a swing aimed at her head, blasting the statue in the chest in response, but it barely budged from the shot.
The pillar was cracked, but the crystal still hadn’t broken.
I didn’t have anything heavy to hit it with.
“Can you hit it again?” I shouted to Vera.
The statue turned toward me and hurled a sword in my direction.
I just barely stepped out of the way in time.
Realizing that might be a viable weapon, I rushed for the thrown sword — only for it to vanish as soon as it hit the opposite wall.
“I’m a little busy!” Vera replied to my request, deflecting a sword with the dueling cane’s blade. She was better with the weapon than I’d expected, swiftly deflecting two cuts from the statue with perfect precision, but it was overwhelming her with the sheer number of angles it could attack from.
She stepped back, giving more ground, and barely avoided triggering another trap.
I rushed back toward them, but I still didn’t have a weapon.
I’m going to regret this.
I rammed myself shoulder-first into the crack in the pillar.
The ice caved on impact. I was bathed in freezing water and tiny fragments of frost.
My dueling tunic protected me from the worst of it. None of the icy shards were pushed free with sufficient force to pierce through it.
But the water was cold, and it hit me with sufficient force to push me to the ground.
The statue turned toward me again, raising a hand, but Vera stepped in and slashed the arm with the dueling cane’s blade. The sword arm went limp, a visible gash where the mana-charged blade had cut deep into it.
That bought me a moment before it threw another sword at me with a different arm.
I didn’t have time to dodge.
Instead, I raised the still-sheathed sword, which had flowed out of the water right next to me, and deflected the thrown blade out of the way.
“Nice!” Vera shouted.
I grinned, standing and drawing the weapon.
It looked like a rusted piece of junk.
That, I considered, is just what happens when I rely on hoping for the best.
But, rusted junk or not, it was a weapon. I ran the statue anyway.
The statue didn’t deign to give me its attention this time. Vera had been forced all the way to the back wall and she blasted it with mana in between parries.
I hit the statue in the back. There was a loud clang and my arm rattled from the impact, but it didn’t do any visible damage.
I did succeed in making it angry.
The statue turned to face me, lashing out at me with three different swords.
Fortunately, this was a game I knew how to play.
I stepped left, deflecting one of the blades into the other two, then kicked the statue in the knee.
As I expected, it wasn’t very well balanced.
The statue stumbled backward, and I lashed out, landing a glancing blow across its face.
Still no damage.
It responded with a slash across my abdomen. I stepped back, failing to avoid it entirely, but my dueling tunic repelled the glancing blow.
Then the blade of Vera’s dueling cane burst through the back of its head, and the statue collapsed to the floor.
I took a step back, breathing a sigh of relief. “Whew.”
Vera leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily. “You can say that again, kid. I haven’t had a fight like that in ages, and I don’t care to have one again.”
I nodded, sheathing the sword and lifting it to show it to her. “You mind if I hold onto this thing?”
“Nah,” she dragged the word out into an exhale, still trying to get her breath back. “Think you earned it. Think you can carry the kid over here, though?”
I set the sword down. “Yeah, you handled a lot more of the fighting. Only fair.”
“Thanks.” She grinned at me. “You did pretty well yourself, though.”
I returned the grin, heading back to the other side of the room. I picked up the child gingerly — his condition seemed unchanged — and then carried him over to Vera, next to the door.
As I returned, the monsters shimmered and vanished as one, leaving tiny colorful crystals behind in their wake.
“Ooh, nice.” Vera picked up the largest crystal, the one that had been left behind by the statue, and shoved it into a pouch at her side. “May as well grab a few of these.”
“I don’t think we have that much time.” I still knelt and snatched a single crystal from the remains of a barghensi as I crossed the room. It was on my way, but I wasn’t willing to deviate from the safe path to collect any others. The monsters might have been dead, but I still was worried about triggering a harder to see trap.
Vera shrugged. “Suit yourself, kid.” She walked to the door. The crystal on it was clear, and she touched it with her free hand. The door opened, displaying a round room with a single pillar at the center. A stone one this time, not another ice pillar. A shame — in spite of being doused with freezing water, I could have lived with more pillars that had treasure inside them.
There were a few more obvious trap tiles on the floor and one particularly foreboding iron chain leading to something on the opposite side of the pillar.
I could see a large wooden door on the opposite side. “Looks like this is it.”
I recognized the double doors; they were the same design as the ones I had used to enter the tower. An exit.
I allowed myself to take a breath of relief as I inched toward the door.
“Looks like you’re struggling there. Hand the kid back to me, yeah?”
I nodded gratefully, arriving next to Vera and handing the unconscious boy back into her arms.
I was sufficiently distracted with that motion that I just barely noticed when she pointed the dueling cane at my chest.
“Don’t move.”
My eyes narrowed.
I strongly considered trying to grab the cane from her hand. My vest could probably take one more shot, and people had a tendency to miss charging targets at short range.
But I’d never seen Vera miss.
I opened my hands and stretched them out to my sides, a gesture of surrender. “Why?”
“It’s nothing personal. I don’t know you, kid. But I’ve gotta make sure my friend here is safe.”
Vera paused, grimacing. “I’m taking this way out. You can find your own way.” Vera made a gesture with her head toward the door where we had entered the room. It was still there. “Maybe you can explain things to the visage.”
I gave her a look that was heavy with skepticism. “That sounds real plausible.”
“Sorry. Hate to do this, but I will fire if you follow me. This is bigger than you know.”
I shrugged. “Do what you’ve got to do.”
She nodded. “Don’t take this exit, even after I leave. I hope, for your sake, that we never meet again, Corin.”
Not likely.
When I get out of here, you’re going toward the top of my “figure this resh out” list.
Vera inched her way out of the room, the kid still slung over one shoulder, the dueling cane always pointing at me.
I considered rushing her right up until the point where she reached the pillar in the center of the next room and the door slammed shut.
Resh.
Only one thing to do now.
I looted the room.
Five more small crystals from the remaining destroyed monsters. They weren’t much, but they probably had some value. I picked the sheathed sword back up too. Rusted or not, it was better than nothing. Unfortunately, the sheath wasn’t built with a loop to attach to a belt, so I had to carry it by hand for the moment.
If Vera knew that the way she’d gone was an exit, can I just wait a bit longer and follow her?
I knew that different exits led to different locations — was she going to be lying in wait for me out there? Did she have contacts outside the tower that would cover her retreat?
The latter was slightly more likely, but I didn’t think either of them was going to happen.
I still didn’t take the exit, though.
I had unfinished business.
I found a clear spot near the exit door and unslung my backpack, finding the book.
As I flipped open the pages, the room trembled. I dropped the book as the floor beneath me shifted, but I managed to maintain my footing.
After a few more seconds, the shaking stopped, and I picked up the book. Fortunately, nothing had fallen from the ceiling, but I could see cracks in the walls.
Was that an earthquake?
No, ordinary earthquakes don’t happen here.
That was something moving — something big.
…can the god serpent move outside of that room?
I felt a momentary surge of terror, clenching my hands into fists as I pictured the god beast smashing through one of the nearby walls. But quivering wasn’t going to get me anywhere.
And it certainly wasn’t going to get Tristan the help he needed.
I took a deep breath, unclenched my fists, and picked up the book.
I wasn’t done here.
I found the last line I had written, and I found the reply.
I will try. It is not my way, but I will try.
I frowned, uncertain, and lifted the quill to the page. I noted the distinct lack of a description for this room. Was the entity still watching me?
Are you there?
Seconds passed. No reply.
I lifted my head from the book, frowning, to find that I was no longer alone.
A hooded robe floated in front of me, with a pattern of white stars sewn into the blue cloth. The sleeves were outstretched, giving the impression of arms within, but there were no arms. No face was visible within the hood; just empty air.
“You have made things very difficult for me, Corin.”
I wasn’t sure if the voice was coming from within the cloak or inside my head. It seemed to come from everywhere at once.
But I was pretty sure I knew who I was talking to.
“Sorry about that.” I put the book and quill away. “Mysterious book entity, I take it?”
“In a manner of speaking. This is not my true form, merely a manifestation of convenience. There is no time for deeper discussion. Come.”
I stood, ready to draw the sword, but holding it downward in a non-threatening position.
The hooded figure moved to a wall toward the middle of the room. I followed, avoiding the traps on the floor.
“Press here.”
I searched the wall, finding a small tile that stood out from the rest of the stone. A switch.
Of course, most of the switches in the room triggered traps.
I really didn’t like this.
I pressed the switch.
I heard a click, followed by a grinding noise. A door-sized section of the wall slid into the floor.
I nodded to the hooded figure. “Thanks.”
“Do not thank me. This favor will cost us both.”
Well, that was ominous.
The room ahead was circular, similar to the one with the pillar. Instead of a pillar at the center, however, it had a basin filled with clear blue. There were exit doors on the opposite side of the room.
“Enter the room.”
I stepped in, glancing around cautiously. The robes floated in beside me.
“This is a Room of Attunement.”
I felt my heart pound in my chest.
“Drink from the water to be anointed and complete your test.”
I didn’t hesitate. This was one of my two goals for entering the tower, and I had already made as much progress as I could have hoped for on finding Tristan.
Maybe this would give me the strength to do more.
I laid my sword down next to the basin and dipped my hands into the water. It was cool, almost freezing, as I brought it to my lips and drank.
My mind went blank.
I saw only blackness at first, but I felt no panic, only calm.
A woman manifested slowly in front of me. She glowed with a soft blue light. It was a cold light, colder than the water that flowed within me now, and it chilled me to my core.
Her wings were brilliant white, reminding me of the soft glow on the blade of the sword that Keras wielded.
Her expression was full of sadness as she reached for me, brushing her fingers across my forehead.
“Awaken.”
I was back in the chamber. My forehead felt cold, the touch of her fingertips still lingering on my skin.
I had no doubt as to what I had seen, what I had experienced.
I was attuned.
The robed figure remained next to me. It leaned down, lifting the sheathed sword in an invisible grip.
I blinked, taking a step back.
It paused. “I am not going to strike you. I am merely retrieving a tool.”
The cloaked figure unsheathed the rusted sword with an invisible hand, then thrust it into the pool of water. The entire blade and hilt sunk in, deeper than should have been possible from the visible fluid. When the cloaked figure pulled its hand out, the weapon had transformed. It was an elegant saber, a blue gem shimmering in the pommel, the handguard a weave of silvery vines.
The cloaked figure turned the sword to the side, offering it in two invisible hands. I accepted it with a mixture of confusion and awe, then re-sheathed it.
I felt an aura of frost emanate from the weapon as I took it in my hands, but it was a soothing cold. The chill fought back the pain in my right hand from the overuse of my cane.
“Thank you,” I breathed.
“It is a meager gift, but the best I can prepare with limited time. You will need far more than this to survive the days to come.”
“Because I opposed Katashi?” I might have expected as much.
The creature’s hood twisted, giving the impression of an attempt to shake a head that wasn’t there. “Because of what you have seen. You are one of several who have been pulled into a conflict with the potential for vast devastation. Seek the woman called Lyras Orden. Tell her that the Voice of the Tower must speak with her. You may tell her what you have seen, but speak to no one else of the prisoners. That will be the first of your tasks to repay what you owe.”
I nodded. “I take it you’re this Voice?”
“Yes. I know you wish for more information, but I must leave. A battle still rages and even moments may make a difference.”
I thought of Keras and Katashi. Was this Voice going to go help one of them?
I really wanted to know more, but I didn’t know enough to question the Voice’s decision, and I believed that moments might be relevant.
“One last question. My brother entered this tower and never returned. His name is Tristan. Do you know where I can find him?”
The Voice hovered in silence for a moment. The hood shifted downward just enough for me to notice. “I am sorry. Thousands come and go each year. I cannot help you.”
Another chance lost.
The tower shook, jarring me out of my thoughts. “I understand. Thank you again for everything.”
The hooded robe vanished. I heard a voice in the air as it disappeared. “Leave quickly, while you still can.”
I stared for a moment at where it had been.
Quickly was somewhat ambiguous, at least. I could take a few minutes.
I knew that people were supposed to lose some of their memories of the tower when they left. I also knew they kept what they had found inside.
I had a book and a quill. I hoped the Voice wouldn’t be too irritated if I used them for a more conventional purpose.
The tower shook as I wrote the most important notes I could think of.
Found prisoners and freed them. Tristan was not among them. One of them, Vera, betrayed me and fled with an unconscious child. Not sure why.
Another, Keras, is currently fighting with the Visage of Valor. Yes, seriously. He is doing surprisingly well, but from the shaking in the tower, I don’t know how long he’ll last.
This book is connected to an entity called the Voice of the Tower. The Voice has instructed me to find Lyras Orden and tell her to talk to him. It? Anyway, that’s a thing I need to do. Also, I shouldn’t tell others about the prisoners.
Katashi may want to kill me because of what I know and/or because I helped Keras a little. This could prove inconvenient.
The Voice doesn’t know where Tristan is, but if there are prisoners here, there’s hope. It’s much more likely the goddess will return him if he’s still alive.
I finished taking my notes. I’d originally planned to record everything I’d seen in the tower, but the shaking was getting worse. I saw cracks forming in the walls of my room. The Voice didn’t reply to my writing. Presumably, it was busy.
More shaking. Tiny pieces of masonry fell from the ceiling.
Was there anything else I needed to do before I left the tower?
I looked at the font where I’d gained my attunement, where the Voice had procured a magic weapon by trading in a terrible one. I really, really wanted to pour everything from my backpack in there. Somehow I doubted the goddess would appreciate that, though.
I settled for emptying out my flask of water on the floor of the room and dipping it into the pool. I filled it to the brim.
Would the goddess be offended by such a small thing? I hoped not.
The room shook again, a fist-sized chunk of stone falling from above and landing inches from where I stood.
I’m going to hope that was a coincidence. Either way, it’s time to go.
I stoppered the water flask, put it in my bag, and moved with purpose out the tower doors.
* * *
I was out of the tower.
I took a minute to just close my eyes and breathe.
I survived.
It felt good to be alive. It felt even better to finally have some tangible progress toward getting Tristan back.
It was going to be a long journey, but I’d finally taken a step closer to reuniting my family.
Standing here isn’t going to get you any closer, though.
I opened my eyes.
The sky was dark overhead, and I could see clouds gathering. Fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about rain on the way home. The environmental shield that covered the city was barely visible from my vantage point, but I could see the telltale shimmer a few hundred feet up.
I knew what rain and snow were intellectually, but I’d never felt them. Maybe I’d get a chance someday. For the moment, I had more important things to concentrate on.
There were no guards next to my particular exit, which was a bit of a surprise. I knew I’d probably taken a non-standard route through the tower, but I still expected to be escorted by guards to a nearby celebration area as soon as I finished. That was standard procedure, as I understood it.
I could see the tall celebration tents in the distance and a couple people gradually approaching them.
I took another minute, gathering my thoughts and checking the contents of my pack. At a glance, everything was still there. I still had the sword with me, too.
The book’s writing remained intact. Good.
It took me a moment to realize that I remembered writing in the book, and I knew why I was checking it.
My memories hadn’t been erased. Not yet, at least.
Was it because I had taken a non-standard exit? Or perhaps because the Voice had helped me somehow? I wasn’t sure. And I certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone. Not yet, at least.
I took a moment to draw a crude map of the rooms I’d explored in the tower. Just boxes with a word in each to show what they represented. I’d write more about them later if I could, but I didn’t think the map would help me much for a couple reasons.
First, the tower was always changing. Even if I walked in the same door it was likely I’d end up in a completely different place. The connections between rooms would change, too.
Second, and more importantly, I couldn’t go back in through the same gate. The Gate of Judgment could be used precisely once per person. Next time I entered the tower, I’d have to use one of the other, far more dangerous entrances. The ones designed for climbers who were intent on reaching the top of the tower.
If I wanted to survive going into the deadlier parts of the tower, I’d need to learn how to master my attunement. Even Vera, who had an attunement that wasn’t built for combat, had proven that she was vastly more capable than I was. I couldn’t have possibly survived that spire guardian room without her — and that was just a single room on the first floor.
Now that I’d completed my Judgment, my highest priority was to train. To study. To get stronger.
And when I was ready, I’d start climbing to the top to save my brother.
I decided that I’d eventually try to write up my notes on the tower rooms and publish them for future tower entrants. I wanted to do anything I could to try to prevent others from failing their Judgments.
But for the moment, I had more far more pressing concerns.
I’d seen a lot of flashy magic over the years. My father and mother were both expert combatants, and I’d seen both of them absolutely demolish people in structured combat tournaments.
But neither they, nor anyone I’d ever met, had a fraction of the power that Katashi did. Visages could — and had — leveled cities. It was very likely that what I’d seen in his battle with Keras was just a fraction of his power, probably to prevent collateral damage.
If I’d just made him angry, I was in very serious trouble.
I headed toward the celebration tent, but I didn’t feel much like celebrating.
There were two Soaring Wing guards at the entrance to the tent. They gave me cautious looks as I approached.
One of them, a woman with a blue attunement mark glowing softly on her right hand, gave me a hard look. “Where’d you come from?”
I pointed at the exit where I’d emerged.
“Huh. Haven’t seen anyone come out that gate in years.” She narrowed her eyes, and then waved her rune-marked hand over my forehead. Looking at her partner, she said, “It’s real. He’s attuned.”
The other guard nodded, turned toward me and gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder. I winced — I wasn’t much for physical contact — but I tried to give him as pleasant of a smile as I could manage.
“Congratulations, kid. You should go get yourself a drink! If your test was anything like mine, you probably need one. And don’t let anyone hassle you about your attunement.”
What’s that supposed to mean?
It occurred to me that I hadn’t actually checked which attunement I’d picked up. I didn’t exactly have a mirror.
“Uh, thanks.” I turned my head from one guard to the other. “Can I go in?”
“Oh, ‘course you can. Gotta make sure you fill out your papers before you leave, too. That’s in the back.” The woman gestured toward the back of the tent, where I could see some tables stacked with paperwork. Bored looking adults were manning the tables, giving instructions to the teens my own age sitting or standing nearby.
In the middle of the tent, though, people were celebrating. Newly-attuned teenagers were dancing, carousing, and some looked to be having their first taste of alcohol.
I stepped in, looking around.
“Congratulations! Need a drink?” An older teenager holding a tray of wine glasses lifted it in my direction, but I shook my head.
“Not much of a drinker.” Belatedly, I added, “But thanks.”
The teenager nodded. “Suit yourself!”
I continued to make my way in, bypassing the celebrants and heading to the back tables. Some of the adults turned toward me. One of them pointed, and another stood and approached me.
She was a heavy-set woman, maybe in her thirties or forties, beaming a bright grin at me. I did my best to smile in return, but my best probably wasn’t very good.
“Hello, and congratulations! I see you just finished your attunement. You’re welcome to join the celebrants for a bit before you sign your papers, if you’d like.”
I shook my head. “Thank you, but I’d rather get this over with.”
Her smile diminished by a fraction, but she maintained a cheerful tone. “Of course, of course. I’m Professor Edlyn. From the look of that mark, I’ll probably be seeing you in my classes in a few weeks.”
I absently brushed my fingers against my forehead. “Oh, uh, great. I’m Corin Cadence. I haven’t actually seen my attunement yet.”
I took a glance at her own attunement — the one she had visible, anyway. I did notice she was wearing a glove on her right hand, and of course her clothing could have covered other marks as well.
It was a Shaper mark, like my father’s, but less complex. I’d seen several variations on each attunement mark, but they always had a core symbol at the center that looked the same. I didn’t know enough about how attunements worked to understand the variations yet.
She raised an eyebrow. “Cadence? As in House Cadence?”
I nodded silently.
“Oh dear. I — well, you should come have a seat, and we’ll get you sorted out.”
That wasn’t a good sign.
I followed her to a seat at one of the nearby tables, trying to ignore the looks that followed me from both newly-attuned and adults.
The professor slid a group of papers in front of me, but I didn’t look at them immediately. “What’s this all about?”
Professor Edlyn gestured at the papers. “Your enrollment paperwork for the Lorian Heights Academy of Arcane Arts. As you’re probably aware, all newly attuned are required by law to serve two years at the academy.”
I nodded. “Followed by two years of military service.”
“Largely correct, although those subsequent two years can also be spent in other approved government roles, such as tower expeditions. Only Lorian Heights can provide you with the education you will need to properly utilize your attunement.”
Of course, because it’s the only option available to me.
Every kingdom treated attuned differently. In Caelford, they had only a single year of mandatory university training, after which students were generally given apprenticeships. Their focus was on attunement-augmented manufacturing, developing both advanced military technology and everyday conveniences that were improved by attunements.
In the Edrian Empire, attuned were sent straight to the military, where they served for a minimum of six years. From my understanding, that duration was often extended, either at the behest of the attuned or by the will of the empire.
In Dalenos, attuned were sent to serve the church. Of course, the Dalen military also served the church — Dalenos was a theocracy — so many attuned still ended up with military-style training.
Valia had the best deal, as far as I was concerned. I only needed to sign away four years of my life, not all of them.
Of course, the nature of the attunement was also relevant, and I still didn’t know mine.
“Can I ask which attunement I have?” I made a little gesture, pointing at the mark on my forehead.
“Of course, dear. You have the Enchanter Attunement.”
I winced. If she noticed, she didn’t give any sign, she just continued talking.
“The Enchanter Attunement will allow you to create magical items and manipulate existing items. It’s very valuable for the development of new technology and providing useful tools to other attuned.”
But virtually useless on its own.
It was the diametric opposite of my family’s traditional attunement, the Shaper. One designed for overwhelming personal combat ability.
I spent the following hours nodding absently to the professor’s instructions while I signed away four years of my life, knowing that the mark on my forehead might have ruined many more.
* * *
The hours I spent on the train ride home were a stream of nervousness and self-deprecation. I’d faced several colorful death options earlier in the day, but none of them were as terrifying as what awaited me at the end of the railroad.
Home.
Disembarking at the Hastings Valley Station, I opted to walk the remaining two miles with calculated slowness. I could have hired a carriage, but I hoped that a sufficient delay might allow me to arrive after others had already gone to sleep.
No such luck, of course.
Cadence Manor was a beautiful structure, three stories of pristine white wood and stone surrounded by three layers of gates — a high stone wall, a barrier of hedges, and an inner metallic fence. The innermost and outer gates were etched with runic wards with a broad variety of functions, and the house itself was similarly protected. There were no guards outside, but the house itself could withstand a siege.
At the moment, Cadence Manor’s most remarkable characteristic was the man standing in front of the house’s open doors. Tall, athletic, and dressed in the long white coat with blue markings of House Cadence, he was the perfect image of a nobleman in his prime. His black hair was trimmed fashionably short, showing streaks of silver along the temples. His hands rested comfortably on a long cane that I knew contained a metallic blade.
My father. His gray eyes analyzed, scrutinized, and calculated as I approached. His position in front of the doors was deliberate. Everything he did was deliberate.
People liked to say that Magnus Cadence was the type of man to think five moves ahead of his opponent, tracing a dozen paths of undoing his enemies before they could lift a hand.
People were often wrong.
Magnus Cadence didn’t plan five moves ahead. He didn’t need to.
He would never let an opponent make five moves.
I held my back high, brushing a lock of hair away from my forehead, revealing the glowing mark on the skin.
He’d made his opening move with his position, and now I’d made mine.
We were about twenty feet apart when he acted again.
“So, you failed, then.”
Four simple words that changed the nature of the contest. This was no game of tactics, pushing pieces on a board.
He’d taken a lunge straight for the heart, just as definitively as if he he’d drawn the true steel in his hands.
It was a feint.
I shrugged a shoulder, trying to appear unaffected. “I’d call it more of an incremental victory.” A deflection, not a riposte. If I had attempted a counterstrike, he would have used my momentum against me.
He’d drawn blood with those words, but it was only a graze.
Father waved a hand at my forehead with a nonchalant gesture. “I’d hardly call wearing a coward’s mark any sort of victory, incremental or otherwise.”
A swipe at the knees, an attempt to catch me off balance. “Any mark is power, and I can earn more in time. Moreover, I learned some valuable information about the tower during my visit, which will serve to improve my ability to climb in the future.”
A successful evasion, followed by a press of blades, mine against his own.
Father quirked an eyebrow, giving the slightest bit of ground. “How did you learn anything? Your memories of the Judgment should have faded by now.”
I smiled, taking the opening. “I wrote notes while I was inside the tower, Father. A simple enough exercise, but effective. Moreover, I made contact with an entity tied to the tower itself — a potential information source.”
“I suppose you have some of my blood in you after all, then.” An unexpected concession on his part, giving ground. “Inadequate, unfortunately, to compensate for your failure to earn a combat attunement. You can come inside and meet your replacement.”
There is no fencing term I’m aware of for drawing a pistol and shooting your opponent in the face, but that was what it felt like when I heard his final words.
I’d overextended myself and he’d taken advantage of that, giving me a taste of victory just to crush me with overwhelming force.
He turned his back, striding into the house, leaving the familiar doors wide open.
I followed, trying to avoid fixating on the sense inadequacy he’d awakened in my mind. It was no use. The sense intensified as I saw who waited me inside.
Standing with her hands folded carefully in front of her was Sera Shard, my childhood companion. She stood in the center of the entry chamber, her bright House Cadence uniform illuminated by the gas lamps on the sides of the chamber.
Sera, the daughter of one of my mother’s retainers, had been born a scant handful of days after I had. We had been raised together with the understanding that she would be my personal retainer. Not a servant — Sera was trained to be my bodyguard, my seneschal, and my closest confidant. My childhood was filled with memories of countless hours spent with her and Tristan, days filled with joy.
I’d been raised with numerous stories about the bonds of loyalty between a noble and their retainers. I’d seen them in practice between my mother and Sera’s mother. They were always together, closer than any friends I’d ever known.
When the tower took Tristan from me, my mother took Sera. Mother had taken her entire staff when she left, and of course Sera had left with her own mother.
I was no child now, and seeing my father approach Sera, I processed things I had not as a ten-year-old. A similarity in the grayness of their eyes, a similar wave in her black hair to one in my own.
The distinct absence of a father in her childhood.
I anticipated Father’s next move, but it was irrelevant.
“Corin, I take it you remember the young Miss Shard.” He stood to her right side, smiling magnanimously as he gestured toward her. He didn’t wait for me to reply. “Given Tristan’s continued absence, and your failure to secure a combat attunement, I’ve decided to legitimize her. Unlike you, Corin, she’s earned a real attunement. She’s a Summoner.”
A Summoner? That’s impressive. They’re rare… and extremely effective.
I did the only thing I could, since replying directly to him would only invite more attacks. I closed the door behind me, approached to an acceptable distance, and bowed at the waist toward Sera. “Congratulations on earning a Summoner Attunement, Sera. It’s good to see you. It’s been too long.”
She didn’t return the bow. Instead, she smirked and spoke. “Thank you, Corin. Or perhaps ‘brother’ would be a better term, now?” Shining eyes flickered with mischief.
Father turned his gaze toward Sera. “I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself, dear. I’ve legitimized you as a member of House Cadence, but I have not declared myself to be your father. Not yet. That is something you will need to earn.”
If she was daunted by that, she showed no sign. “Of course, Father. I will endeavor to be the very best example of what this house has to offer.”
Goddess, I’d forgotten how good she was at pretentious resh. I couldn’t have come up with something that haughty with a calculated effort.
Father set a hand on the top of her head. “I expect nothing less.” It was a small gesture of affection; just enough to show what he never gave to me.
I stretched, attempting to appear unaffected. “Excellent, maybe we can begin by sharing stories about our experiences in the tower.”
Stories which she presumably wouldn’t have, since normally people had their memories erased. It was a cheap shot.
She turned her head to me, still smiling. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time for that at the university. You look exhausted, Corin. You must have had a difficult time of things. Is that a burn mark on your tunic?”
I shrugged. If she thought that taking a hit implied weakness on my part, I could use that. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a blast from a dueling cane in one of my first battles.”
Father turned, scratching his chin. “Which you fled, I take it?”
I scoffed, which seemed to catch them both off guard. “Uh, no, not a chance. I didn’t run from any monsters.”
Mostly true. I only fled from people. And beings of godlike power.
Okay, and the cat-rabbit thing. So adorable.
Father’s eyes narrowed, showing a bit of legitimate contemplation. Had I given him a hint of doubt? “You fought monsters, and yet you have a non-combat attunement? I find that somewhat difficult to believe.”
Good.
I shrugged the backpack off my shoulders, opening the back and reaching in. I retrieved one of the larger crystals that had been left behind when Vera destroyed the barghensi. It was common knowledge that monsters in the tower left crystals behind when killed; they were a form of stable mana, and could be used in some spells and enchantments. Some people believed that they were the crystallized souls of the monsters.
I tossed the crystal to him, and he caught it deftly.
A slight frown developed as he turned the crystal over in his hands. “Curious.” He raised his head toward me.
I showed him a handful of other crystals. “If you think that’s impressive, you should see the sword.” I tapped the hilt of the weapon at my hip.
Father didn’t take the bait. Instead, he turned to Sera and handed her the crystal. “You’ll need to retrieve something more impressive than this on your next trip in the tower.”
She nodded curtly.
I set my backpack on the ground, folding my arms.
Apparently, I was setting the low, low bar for being considered a child of Magnus Cadence.
Father probably expected me to fight back, to compete, to try to prove myself… and for Sera to have to try harder to measure up to that.
He’d never understood.
His approval had stopped being important to me the moment he’d written his elder son off as dead.
“Well, this is all very exciting.” I tried to sound as unenthusiastic as possible. “But, as you’ve both made it clear you understand, I’m an exhausted coward who wants nothing but luxury, so I’m off to bathe and bed.”
I gave Sera one last look as I walked past her. Her expression had shifted from playful to contemplative. I gave her an exaggerated wink.
I wasn’t going to compete with her for Father’s approval, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t find a way to make this into entertainment of my own.
Chapter V — Orientation
I had a couple weeks between earning my attunement and the start of the academic year, and I intended to make good use of them.
My first matter of business was trying to figure out how to use my attunement. We had a number of books on attunements in the library. Unfortunately, we didn’t have many on enchanting. To the best of my knowledge, I was the first Enchanter in the family. That wasn’t exactly an honor. We’d made our family name in battle, not as crafters or merchants.
From what I could glean from the more general texts on attunements, most people could use their attunements intuitively. If I was a Shaper or an Elementalist, I could already be hurling bolts of raw mana. According to a book called Styles of Spellcasting, the methodology would depend on where I received my mark.
Hand marks are the most common, which begat our tradition of wearing gloves to hide them. Those attuned with hand marks excel at accurately directing spells at distant targets.
Leg marks allow for instantaneous delivery of powerful spells through physical contact. They are the favored marks for Guardians and other physically adept attunements.
Heart marks can channel mana through the entire body before dispersing it through a spell. This requires intense focus and slows the casting of the spell, but increases its intensity.
Lung marks allow the attuned to fill the air with mana as they speak the words of an incantation, directing their spells across a broad area. They are exceptional in large confrontations, such as siege warfare.
Finally, mind marks enhance the attuned’s ability to sense and manipulate the mana inside their body. This can potentially allow mind-marked to construct spells inside their own bodies purely through focusing their minds. This is an excellent attunement location for Menders, who can heal themselves simply through concentration, as well as shadows, who can use it to cast illusions without any warning.
That description made my own mind mark sound pretty interesting, until I read a bit further and found out that Enchanters could only enchant items, not people.
That was disappointing. I’d been looking forward to permanently enhancing myself somehow. Maybe an enchanting-specific book would give me a better idea of what I could do.
I did pick up a few more things about enchanting from the few books we had, but not enough that I could actually practice it at home. They were more about theory and history, written mostly for non-Enchanters who wanted to learn about the basic concepts. That was frustrating — whenever I walked by Sera’s room, I could hear her practicing some kind of spell incantations, presumably already mastering her Summoner abilities.
Occasionally, I’d even see an icy glow emanating from her room or see water dripping down the side of her door.
Aside from studying my attunement without success, I had another thing to research: the symbol on the glove I’d found on the body in the prison. That, fortunately, was simple enough. We had a book on heraldry, and it was one of the first entries. House Cornell.
I wrote them a letter explaining what I’d found, apologized for my failure to save their child, and enclosed the glove.
I left the letter anonymous and paid a courier to deliver it. I gave the courier explicit instructions not to identify me as the sender.
It was a coward’s approach, and I knew that. They would have questions. Perhaps they’d be angry at me for coming back alive when their child had not. Maybe they’d want to thank me for giving them some closure.
Maybe if my mother had received a letter like that one about Tristan, she’d have stayed with my father. Or maybe it would have just made things worse.
All I knew was that the uncertainty of Tristan’s fate had eaten me inside for years, and I wouldn’t condemn another family to that same condition if I could avoid it.
Maybe I was a coward, but a coward’s gift was better than no gift at all.
* * *
Before I left on the train to the Lorian Heights academy, I spent one last morning sitting in a grassy field where Tristan and I used to play, and I remembered.
He was tall. So much taller than I was. Taller than our father, even at fourteen. At nine, I hadn’t quite hit my growth spurt yet.
With his long, thin limbs, climbing the tree must have seemed like a trivial effort.
To me, it was an exercise in terror just to scramble up to the lowest branches.
“C’mon!”
I looked around uncertainly. Inside the house, Sera was playing a game of Valor against Father again. Lately, she was even starting to win a few rounds here and there.
Mother was out on business again, and our other retainers were all inside, tending to various chores.
There was no one nearby to catch me if I fell.
Tristan was already a good ten feet above me. High enough that looking up at him made me feel sick. Could I survive a fall from that height? Maybe hitting the branches on the way down would slow me enough that I’d just crack some bones open.
But he smiled brightly at me, encouraging as he always had been, and I fought past the fear.
My arm muscles were pretty strong for my age. Even then, I’d spent a lot of time practicing with weapons. Mostly the traditional ones like sword and spear. I didn’t have enough mana at that point to use a dueling cane with any degree of seriousness.
So, pulling myself up wasn’t a problem; it was just a matter of being able to reach a good branch in the first place.
Tristan waited for me as I inched, calculated, and feared. And finally, I reached… and pulled my way up to the next section of the tree. And the next. My fear grew with every inch, but he bolstered me with encouragement.
“You can do it!” and “Don’t be afraid!” echoed in my mind.
I was just one section below him. I judged the distance. “I can’t make it. It’s too far! I’m not tall enough to reach the branch.”
He laughed and reached down with a hand. “Then I’ll help you!”
I reached up to take his hand. With Tristan’s help, maybe I could reach —
Tristan leaned forward too far. His hand brushed against mine as he fell.
I winced, blinking away the memory. Tristan had been fine. He’d laughed when I’d finally made it back down the tree, fighting fear to scale my way down far faster than I’d gone up. The branches had bloodied him, but he’d made it through the fall without any permanent damage.
But I remembered that he’d fallen trying to help me, and that was Tristan to his core. He was always trying to lift me up, even at his own expense.
After so many years of Tristan looking out for me, it was long past time I did the same for him. I knew that I wouldn’t be going back into the tower immediately, of course. Attempting to climb the tower was far more dangerous than simply going through a Judgment, and what I’d seen inside had made it abundantly clear that I was not prepared for the true dangers of the tower yet.
So, I’d need to be patient. I’d practice. I’d master my attunement, grow strong enough to survive.
But when I was strong enough, I’d reach for that highest branch.
I hoped that Tristan could keep waiting for me, just a little bit longer.
* * *
Riding on the train was a considerably different experience with Sera sitting next to me.
It wasn’t the first time we had traveled together; we had rarely been apart as children. Three years apart had changed both of us, however, and my father’s plans — maybe our father’s plans — had been deliberately formulated to create a degree of tension between us.
I wasn’t going to let things stand that way.
When we’d first left the station, she’d sat with perfect poise, looking out the window and waving at the house servants that stood at the station. The perfect image of a young noblewoman already missing her family and friends.
Within minutes, she’d shifted in her seat into something resembling a ball, curled around a book.
This was the Sera that I remembered. Someone I could work with.
I pulled out a book of my own. Trials of Judgment, the book from inside the tower.
Then, flipping to a blank page, I removed the quill and inkwell from my backpack.
I caught her eye flickering toward me, curious. She caught my eye catching her eye. I caught her eye catching my eye… you get the idea. We exchanged glances, saying nothing.
I began to write.
Oh, Great Mysterious Book Entity, Voice of the Tower, etc. etc.
Are you receiving this message? I’m not sure if this thing works, now that I’m outside the tower.
Really, I’m not sure if the book itself was ever significant or if you were just using it as a medium to communicate with me.
Please clarify.
Yours in an unspecified amount of indentured service,
Corin
I smirked, waiting and watching for a few minutes. In spite of my brilliance, there was no reply.
I sealed the ink container and stashed it, the quill, and the book back in my bag.
Sera glanced at me again as I finished putting the book away. “Magic book,” I said simply.
I knew of no reasonable creature who would not respond to a nonchalant declaration like, “Magic book.” Sera was a complex companion, I knew, but eminently reasonable when such hooks were presented.
Her eyebrow raised accommodatingly, and, for emphasis, she added, “Define magic book.”
I shrugged, stretching. “Oh, you know, just your typical book connected to a nigh-omniscient spiritual entity contained within the Serpent Spire. What are you reading?”
“Hartigan’s Compiled Treatises on Advanced Binding Theory.” She retrieved a bookmark from her bag, set it to mark her progress and closed the tome. “Nothing that would be applicable studies. It’s for Summoners.”
I nodded sagely. “Studying early? Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to interrupt that with something as uninteresting as—”
She uncoiled herself and leaned in closer. “No need to be so blithely manipulative, Corin. You’ve got my attention. Now, what percentage of that was actually true?”
I looked upward, and then tilted my face down, giving an exaggerated look of concentration. “Eighty… no, seventy nine point nine percent?”
She laughed obligingly, grabbing toward the back. “Okay, come on, show me.”
I showed her the book, and she sat a little closer while I went over each of the pages, telling her bits of the story that went along with each.
I stopped just before the prison, after the book told me that, “You shouldn’t have done that.” It was a good place to hook her interest, and beyond that, I was pretty sure I shouldn’t be sharing the incidents with the prison and beyond — and certainly not in public.
I really wanted to tell her about Keras fighting Katashi. The idea that there was a presumably mortal swordsman that could even hold a visage at bay was almost unthinkable. I’d been raised to believe the visages were unstoppable forces of nature. Everyone had.
Was Keras an exception? Was he truly that powerful?
Or was he another visage himself?
Wydd, the Visage of Forbidden Knowledge, was known to take on many forms depending on her current whim. Maybe Keras being another visage was a simpler answer than assuming he was a human with some kind of unknown power source.
But even if it was a simpler answer, I didn’t know if it was a better one. Two visages fighting each other was potentially more worrisome than a human managing to put up a fight. Some kind of in-fighting among our pantheon could not possibly be a good thing — and it probably wasn’t something a mere mortal should know about.
And Katashi knew that I’d seen the fight.
Even if he didn’t take direct action against me, there was a good chance I’d be in danger if I went back to the tower before figuring this situation out. And there was a chance he would do something, even if it wasn’t personally. Every visage had human agents. Priests, servants, that sort of thing.
Just one more thing for me to worry about.
I also wanted to tell Sera about the prison, both out of excitement and because I wanted to get her insight. I liked to plan for every contingency, but Sera had always been great at breaking down a situation into component parts and analyzing them. Maybe she would pick up on hints that I hadn’t, and I needed all the information I could so that I’d be better prepared to rescue Tristan when I was ready to climb the tower.
In spite of my desires, though, I needed to play it safe. The Voice had been clear that I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone else about the situation. It had probably saved my life by giving me a quick way out of the tower, so I owed it at least a bit of consideration. I’d still probably tell Sera eventually, but I wanted to see what this Lyras Orden had to say before I took any further actions.
Instead, I asked her how she would have handled the same tests, and we discussed and debated alternate strategies for each room for hours.
By the end of the trip, we might have almost been friends again.
* * *
Sera and I stood together on a broad grassy field. We were joined by a mere eight thousand other students, mostly other applicants who had survived a trip through the tower. There would be a few others. Foreign students with other attunements. A scattered few students who hadn’t taken their Judgments yet and were here to prepare.
The sea of teenagers stared at a raised stone platform where several adults in the pristine white uniforms of the Valian military stood. We’d be hearing their commencement speeches shortly.
In the meantime, Sera and I were scanning the crowd, presumably for similar reasons. I was looking for known quantities such as my few friends, or acquaintances from social gatherings. Allies. Enemies. The crowd was thick enough that I had little success.
I thought I caught a glance of Patrick Wayland, one of my childhood friends. That gave me some conflicted feelings. I hadn’t seen Patrick in years.
Would he think less of me for having a weak attunement?
Not everyone treated non-combat attunements as inferior, but it was hardly an uncommon attitude. Valia’s military was our pride, and being able to stand on the front lines and fight with magical power was a common childhood dream.
It had never been my dream, but I’d never been great at fitting society’s expectations in general.
Sera and I were both still wearing our backpacks, and I still had the goddess-given saber on my belt. About one in three of the other students was armed. I’d initially expected my weapon to be taken at the academy gates, but the military had a strong presence on the campus, and the gate guards didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the sword’s presence.
Most of the other students didn’t seem to have backpacks, although I spotted a few in the crowd. Maybe the majority of students had already found their dormitories — Sera and I had just barely arrived in time for the commencement speech.
“Students, welcome.” The sound was clear and crisp, like it was coming from right next to me, but I could see the speaker at the center of the podium. He was a tall, uniformed man with rich brown skin and a marvelous jagged scar across his forehead. It made him look ferocious. I was mildly envious.
“I’m Lieutenant Commander Jack Bennet, the vice chancellor of this institution. First, I’d like to congratulate you on getting to this point. You’ve shown a degree of worth in the eyes of the goddess to make it this far, but your training is just beginning. I’ll be keeping a close eye on you throughout the years to come, helping to hone you into the fine generation of soldiers that you have the potential to become. The final arbiter of your success, however, is the chancellor.” He turned to his right, gesturing at a short, portly woman in a business coat and trousers.
Not military. Interesting.
“Chancellor Wallace will explain the rest.”
A brief introduction. Good. I can’t stand long speeches. The other students in the crowd had gone silent, turning their eyes to the stand.
The vice chancellor stepped away from the podium, allowing Chancellor Wallace to approach.
It occurred to me that no one was applauding. Were we supposed to cheer or clap? I wasn’t really sure.
“Good morning, students, and thank you for the introduction, Commander Bennet.” She nodded to the vice chancellor, and then looked back to the crowd. “My, there are a lot of you this year. A record number, in fact. That’s a good sign, a sign of the goddess watching over us. She seems to expect great things of you, and so will I. Before we continue, let us say a few words in her praise. Please join me in the Hymn of Accord.”
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes, mouthing the words as others droned one of the many hymns that had been scratched into our brains since childhood.
Goddess great,
Goddess high,
Watching from the distant sky,
Give us peace,
Give us strength,
Watch us live,
Watch us fly.
I’d always thought “die” would have more symmetry in the last line, but when I’d brought it up to my parents, they’d accused me of being needlessly fatalistic.
There was a moment of silence as we finished the awkward recitation, then the chancellor continued her speech.
“Very good. Now, onto a bit more about the school. First and foremost, the role of this university is to prepare you for the dangers you will be facing in the future. A key component of this is learning proper discipline.”
Chancellor Wallace made a broad gesture to encompass the entirety of the gathered student base. “This year, I am not only welcoming the next generation of promising candidates from our own nation, but a number of transfer students from our friends and allies in other nations. I would like to be among the first to welcome you all to Valia. And I would also like to assure you that this academy holds all students to equal standards; there will be no favoritism toward local students.”
The chancellor’s eyes narrowed as she glanced around. “I would also like to remind our local students that these transfer students are our honored guests, and they must be treated with the utmost civility. Actions taken against other students based on their home nation will not be tolerated. Outright hostility toward our guests will result in punishment, up to and including expulsion. I would like to make absolutely certain this is clear. If you understand me, reply, ‘Yes, ma’am.’”
There was an awkward and out of sync reply of “Yes, ma’am,” from the audience.
“I couldn’t hear you all. Repeat after me. ‘Yes, ma’am. ’”
We did a little better job at replying in sync that time.
I could see the reasoning behind introducing this policy so early. My father had told me a story about an incident last year where an Edrian student had been beaten half to death after a class where he’d made a remark about how Edria had “won the war” against Valia years ago.
When my father had explained it, he’d said the kid had “gotten what he’d deserved” for speaking against our noble nation.
I felt sick just remembering the talk. Who could justify beating a student just for stating an opposing viewpoint?
Never mind the fact that Edria more or less had won the war, even if they hadn’t conquered us.
I shook my head, pushing the memory out of my mind. I’d do my best to try to be friendly to any Edrian students I encountered. I was pretty confident that the chancellor’s speech wasn’t going to sway many others. The hatred for Edria was too deeply rooted into our culture, even many years after the war.
“Good. There are a number of other rules at this university, each intended to help improve your discipline for your future career. You will find a full list of academy policies among your entry paperwork.”
The chancellor took a breath and then continued.
“As this is your first year at Lorian Heights, each of you will be assigned to one of six divisions based on your attunement. Your division will determine the types of training and instruction you’ll be given, as well as your primary instructor and uniform.”
Divisions? Interesting, I hadn’t heard about this. Sera and I will probably be split up… That could be good or bad.
“Each division will have objectives throughout the year. Completing these objectives will earn points, both for individuals and for their divisions. Each student has a minimum requirement to earn five hundred points to continue to the second year at the academy.”
“Candidates will enter their second year retaining their scores from the first year, and graduates with high scores will enter their military service at a higher rank. A large part of your score is derived from the performance of your division, and thus, it behooves you to work together with your classmates.”
Chancellor Wallace gestured to a man in a gray suit, with a sharp beard and salt and pepper hair. He stepped up to the front of the platform, coming in clear sight, but not near the podium. “Tiger Division specializes in offensive combat. Students with the Elementalist Attunement will be assigned to him. Professor Ceridan will be your supervisor.”
Next, she waved to a woman in a black suit with perfectly straight, shoulder-length black hair. “Professor Orden will be supervising Serpent Division, which specializes in reconnaissance. Students with the Shadow and Diviner Attunements will report to her.”
Professor Orden? Lyras Orden, I presume. I’ll need to talk to her. A shame I’m not in her division; it sounds interesting, and being placed with her would be convenient.
Chancellor Wallace pointed to a man in a purple suit, with a dueling cane and carefully sculpted eyebrows. “Students with the Shaper Attunement will report to Lord Teft and focus their studies on personal combat. He oversees Hydra Division.”
I started hearing students leaning over and whispering to each other, discussing their division assignments, but Sera and I remained quiet. Focused. Neither of us had been assigned yet.
I recognized the next person who stepped forward. She was the teacher who’d helped me with my paperwork after I’d first earned my attunement. “Phoenix Division provides valuable support both on and off the battlefield. Students with the Mender and Enchanter Attunements will report to Professor Edlyn.”
Welp, stuck with the healers. I’m pretty much doomed to obscurity.
Sera must have seen my expression. She gave me a condescending look and a pat on the arm.
The chancellor beckoned to a thin man in a dark blue military uniform, similar to the one the vice chancellor wore. “Lieutenant Talon will oversee Tortoise Division. Tortoise Division focuses on defensive combat and battlefield control. Summoners and Guardians will report to this division.”
“Transfer students with attunements from the other towers will be assigned an appropriate division for their specialization. For example, Soulblades will be assigned to Tortoise Division due to sharing similar combat capabilities to Summoners.”
Huh. I’d known we had some foreign students, but I hadn’t really considered that they might have taken their Judgments at other towers and earned different attunements. It’d be interesting to see what kind of other attunements were out there.
“Finally, there’s Spider Division. You already know if you’re in Spider Division. As the name implies, Spider Division is infiltrators and saboteurs — and that’s exactly what they’ll be doing within all of your other divisions.”
I heard a collective groan from the students.
“Listen closely!” Chancellor Wallace was surprisingly sharp, and the crowd was silenced. “This is one of the most important parts of your first year of training. Each of you will have specific opportunities throughout the year to report someone you believe to belong to Spider Division and any supporting evidence.”
“Correctly identifying an individual Spider can yield a reward of up to one hundred points. However, if your entire division fails to identify even a single member of Spider Division by the end of the year, each division member will lose two hundred and fifty points. And incorrectly identifying someone as a Spider will result in a loss of up to one hundred points.”
Well, that last part means I can’t just write down everyone I can think of. I’ll have to keep thinking about this, maybe trade some information.
I wonder if the Spiders lose points if they’re identified? Probably, but if not, maybe I could make an offer to get one of them to come forward?
She smiled. “People for Spider Division were selected from all possible attunements, and thus, you cannot identify them that way. Attempting to discover the spies in your midst should be a valuable exercise.”
Chancellor Wallace folded her hands on the podium. “I’m sure you’re eager to meet your classmates. Thus, we’ll be concluding this ceremony. You will find your schedules within your orientation packets, but you’ll need to head to the dispensary to pick up your uniforms and shield sigils. Good luck… and keep your eyes wide open.”
* * *
Our first order of business was picking up our uniforms, so Sera and I headed toward the dispensary.
“So, who do you think we’ll run into first?” Sera nudged me.
I hadn’t really thought about it. “I’m… not sure?”
She grinned. “I bet a bunch of our friends are here. I know Patrick and Roland passed the tests. Maybe we’ll get in some of their classes!”
Hrm. Maybe that really was Patrick I saw earlier.
“Yeah,” I said absently. “That’d be nice.”
Sera rolled her eyes. “Please, restrain your enthusiasm, I can’t take the intensity.”
I tilted my head at her. “Sorry, Sera. You’ve gotta keep in mind that I haven’t seen any of these people in years… I didn’t exactly keep in touch. I don’t know if Patrick will even remember me.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. The two of you were practically brothers when you were little. Patrick still talks about you all the time. He’s excited to see you, even if you’re not. Try to look a little happier when you talk to him, for his sake?”
I grimaced, but I nodded in agreement. “I’ll try.”
She was wrong about one thing, though. I only had one brother, and I’d lost him. Patrick, as much as I’d enjoyed spending time with him, was just a friend.
That said…
She was absolutely right that I was being needlessly grim. I needed to at least try to cheer up a little. Being a walking rainstorm wasn’t doing a service to anyone.
I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head. “How are you doing? Are you happy to have an attunement?”
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Uh, yeah, obviously. And my attunement is kind of amazing, too. Sorry you got stuck with that one… I know it wasn’t what you wanted.”
“Eh, I’ll probably get used to it.” I doubted that, but I was not going to let myself get dragged down into another depressive spiral. “Any idea what attunements our friends got?”
Saying the word “friends” was a little strange. I hadn’t seen them in so long, I didn’t know if I had that right.
“Oh, I didn’t ask, but I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.” She stopped and pointed a hand. “Hey, I think that’s the dispensary over there.”
We headed over, only to find a line leading out the door.
Of course there was a line.
We kept up the small talk as we waited. I admit, I felt a little better from it. It was good having a peer to talk to after such a long period of time. I still wasn’t sure if I was ready to face my old friends, but Sera’s presence was growing on me.
After we finally made our way inside, we got marched into separate fitting rooms, where university staff took our measurements.
The tailor gave me a speech he’d obviously given a hundred times.
“You’re a size medium. All uniforms are white, but since you’re in Phoenix Division, yours will have red accents. You get two uniforms. You will need to wear them during all classes and testing sessions. Civilian clothes are permitted during other activities. Keep your uniform immaculate. There are several cleaning facilities on campus, which you can locate on your map.”
He set aside two folded uniforms, then went into a cabinet and retrieved a silver pin with a school insignia about the size of a coin. “Pin this to your uniform before every class and test. Do not forget this, it is absolutely mandatory. The shield sigil gives you basic protection against spells — this is both to handle accidents and to assist you in classes that involve combat exercises.”
The tailor handed me the pin. “You will need to recharge the shield sigil every week, as well as before any class that actively involves combat. You will not be permitted to attend class without a pin, and failing to wear your pin more than once can result in disciplinary action, up to and including expulsion. The same is true for failing to properly recharge your pin. As an Enchanter, you will learn how to recharge the pin yourself, but for the time being you may have your pin recharged at the Divinatory.”
I nodded and accepted the pin.
“Sign here for your two uniforms and the shield sigil.”
I signed the paperwork, accepted the bundle of uniforms, and then went to meet Sera outside.
* * *
Sera and I would be staying in different dorms. I was in the cleverly named “Phoenix Male, Building #27”, and she was in the equally scintillating “Tortoise Female, Building #14”, but they were both in the same general direction, so we walked together.
She gave me an appraising look. “Odds that Spider Division is real?”
I shrugged, briefly debating telling her that I was in Spider Division. Which, of course, I wasn’t. “After some thought, I’d put it somewhere between zero and, hrm, one hundred percent. Plus or minus a bit.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s probably just a mind game. They want us on edge.”
“I’m not so certain about that. Maybe they’re training some people for covert operations? This is supposed to be a military sponsored school.”
Sera raised her hand to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Could be, or maybe they just really wanted one division per giant tower monster.”
I snickered. She had a point. “It’s a useful mnemonic device. Everyone knows the god beasts, so you’re not going to forget the division names easily.”
“I suppose. I just feel like they’re doing the Spider thing to distract us from something else — maybe a more subtle test.”
I chuckled. “You’ve got the family paranoia, at least.”
“I’ll try to take that as a compliment.”
“You always were good at pretending.”
* * *
We finished our speculative banter and arrived at her dorm, parting ways there. It only took a few more minutes to find my own building, virtually identical to the one she was staying in. The buildings themselves were three story structures, and from their rectangular shape and size, I guessed they housed about a dozen rooms on each floor.
Finding my own room was simple enough. I already had the key; it had been delivered to my home a few days before I left, along with my orientation paperwork. I turned it in the lock and examined my new home.
It turned out there wasn’t much to examine.
The room was barely larger than a closet, with a thin bed taking up nearly half the space. The remainder contained a generic wooden desk, a chair, and a cabinet. I found a neat stack of documents on the desk, containing more information about the school and another map of the campus.
The crowded space didn’t bother me as much as it could have. I’d grown up sharing a room with my older brother until his disappearance, so I was used to having limited space to work with. While some nobles lived in opulent manors with dozens of rooms, House Cadence was comparatively small. Our house had risen into the ranks of nobility through exemplary military service, not our money.
I shrugged my backpack off my shoulders, stretching, and locked the door behind me.
Freedom.
I took a breath of the air that belonged only to me, closing my eyes and savoring it.
For the last two weeks, I’d felt unwelcome in my former home. My father’s disapproval had been almost palpable. I’d done my best to avoid him, and I had some good excuses. There was a seemingly endless supply of documents to prepare for attending the academy, and I studied more to learn more about my attunement.
So, what did I do with my first moments of free time?
More reading.
This time, something a little more interesting.
I flipped open Trials of Judgment, flipping to the last thing I had written.
Still no reply.
Frowning, I set the book aside. I had other reading that I wanted to do.
I dug through my pack, finding a book on runes that I’d borrowed from my father’s library. An Introductory Primer on Empowering Runes by Conrad Lake.
I’d read the beginning before, and I understood the fundamentals. Enchanters had the ability to permanently infuse objects with power.
To do this, I’d have to start by finding the runes that corresponded to the effects I wanted on the item. After that, I’d inscribe the object with the runes. That was the easy part.
The hard part was finding a power source for each rune. Since I only had an Enchanter attunement, the only mana I had access to was “raw” mana — basic, unfiltered stuff. Most enchantments required specialized types of mana, like fire mana to empower a rune to make a flaming weapon.
There were two main ways of getting the mana I needed to enchant something: either I could find a person who had the right kind of mana and transfer it from them, or I could transfer the mana from an object that contained mana. Like, for example, the crystals sitting in my bag.
I wasn’t reading through the book to figure out what I could do with my crystals. I’d already done that, and come to the conclusion that the few crystals I had weren’t all that useful on their own. Slimes were the weakest monsters in existence and the mana crystals they left behind were raw, the same type I could generate on my own. The barghensi’s crystal was earth mana, which was more useful, but not something I had any use for at the moment.
No, for now, I wasn’t going to make anything. I needed to learn about what I already had.
I unsheathed the sword the Voice of the Tower had given me about half way, examining the shimmering blade and the four runes on the surface. I was careful not to touch my skin to the aura of frost — I didn’t know if it would hurt the wielder or not. That was one of the first things I’d need to figure out.
I found my quill and ink and one of the pieces of orientation paperwork I didn’t care about, drawing the four runes that I’d seen on the surface of the blade. After another moment of thought, I flipped the sword over and checked the other side to see if the etchings matched.
They did. Just four runes, then.
Then, having copied the runes, I searched through the enchanting book to find them. I only found two of the four.
The first was a pretty simple rune, one I’d seen elsewhere: a Rune of Resilience, useful for making an object harder to break.
The second was definitely some kind of Rune of Ice, but it differed from the basic one presented in the book. The shape was similar enough to be clearly related, but the one on the weapon was surrounded by an octagon of intersecting lines, one of which connected with the rune.
I spent some more time searching the book for the other runes, but they were nowhere to be found. The book’s notes on the basic Rune of Ice indicated that items enchanted with it were dangerous to the wielder, so I decided it was best to keep my hands as far away from the aura as possible, at least until I could discern what the more advanced rune meant.
With that established I sheathed the weapon and lay down on my bed, closing my eyes.
I wasn’t going to sleep, not immediately. I needed a few moments just to process my situation.
I didn’t get them, of course. A knock sounded on my door mere instants after my eyes shut.
The knocking paused for a moment, then repeated a few moments later. It was quick, insistent. I sighed, pushing myself from the bed, and opened the door.
A black-clad student was standing outside, his almond-shaped eyes narrowed in scrutiny. He had amber skin, which meant his family was probably from East Edria or Dalenos.
He stared directly at me for a moment, then asked a single question.
“Are you a Spider?”
I blinked. “Uh… no?”
He nodded curtly, took the door handle, and shut my door.
I continued to stare at the closed door for the next few seconds.
Well, that was interesting.
Contemplating the encounter, I came to the conclusion that the student was testing for my reaction. I heard another similar knock several moments later… but it wasn’t at the next door down. It was too distant for that. He wasn’t going to every door in sequence — either he had a list of specific people he wanted to check, or he wasn’t going in order because he didn’t want people hearing the conversations at adjacent rooms and taking the time to prepare.
Oh, I like this guy.
He hadn’t given his name, but I’d find it.
* * *
I kicked off my boots and spent the next few hours reading through runes atop my new bed. The threadbare sheets and single pillow weren’t particularly comfortable, but I was glad just to have a private room.
While I studied the runes, I contemplated what I could potentially build. My few crystals wouldn’t get me very far, but I did have a small discretionary stipend to spend on things outside of what the academy provided. Basic food in the mess hall, lodgings, and uniforms were already covered.
I assumed most of the other students who were lucky enough to have a stipend spent it on the much better food that could be found in the assorted restaurants on the campus, or on things like more books or added conveniences.
My four silver sigils per week were going toward an enchanting fund.
One of my first priorities would be to figure out the local rates on buying various types of enchanting materials. My reading indicated that there were a lot more types of mana crystals than I had initially realized, and that there were some alternatives to using crystals or getting help from other attuned, but that they tended to be harder to come by.
My first priority? Enchanting the flask where I was keeping the water from the pool in the tower. I didn’t know if the effect that had given me my attunement was inherent to the water, or if the water was just a conduit for the goddess to use to give people attunements. If it was the former, I couldn’t know if the water’s magical properties would remain stable forever. Or maybe it would just evaporate if it was left alone. I didn’t want that to happen.
After doing that bit of reading, I grudgingly got back to the stack of paperwork on my desk. I skimmed over school rules and regulations, as well as things like the details on earning points for graduation. I could worry about those later.
I was looking for the campus map. I had something important to do.
Finding the map was easy enough. Actually navigating the campus to find Professor Orden’s office was considerably more challenging. Not only were there several buildings that didn’t appear on the map, many of the labels were out-of-date.
All in all, it took me nearly two hours to find Professor Orden’s office on the opposite side of the campus. She was, predictably, not even there.
I did, however, find a list on her door of her office hours. The next time she’d be present would be Wyddsday, the day before classes. I made a note to come back then. Not only did I want to fulfill my obligation to the Voice, I needed to know how the professor was connected. Was she some sort of servant of Katashi? Or maybe Tenjin?
Valia’s patron visage was Tenjin, the Visage of Inspiration. It was commonly known that the visages often employed mortal help, even outside of their priesthoods. The presence of a foreign visage in our tower was very strange; if Professor Orden worked for Tenjin, it was likely she needed to know about it.
Was there some kind of power play going on, or was I just indulging childish fantasies of visages playing political games against each other? It was the type of thing I’d read about in stories since childhood, but the last known direct conflict between two visages had been over a hundred years ago.
I headed back in the general direction of my room. The trip hadn’t been a total waste of time; I’d discovered the locations of several facilities I intended to visit later, including the mess hall, multiple shops, the apothecary, and my current destination: the library.
Predictably, I found Sera already inside.
She had annexed an entire table, with a massive stack of books on her left and three open tomes spread out in front of her. Most of the pages I could see showed complex diagrams with runic markings. She was scanning one of them intently, apparently oblivious to my presence.
I pulled up a nearby chair, making enough noise that she turned her head with an annoyed look. Her expression shifted from irritation to an inquisitive shift in her eyebrows when she processed who had dared to disturb her studies.
“Yes, Corin?”
I leaned over the table to examine one of the closer books. “Summoning diagrams? Trying to find something powerful to summon to impress everyone before classes start?”
She shook her head, her expression sinking into a frown. “Common misconception. Summoning monsters is actually one of the least common things that Summoners do.”
I blinked. “What do you do, then?”
She stabbed a finger at a diagram in front of me. “This isn’t a summoning diagram, it’s a contract. The runes indicate the terms of the contract, and mana is used to enable it. Summoners make contracts with creatures to draw power from them.”
I scratched my chin. “Like, individual monsters? You have to meet them and bind them personally?”
“Yes. If I want to make a monster do anything — give me power, protect something, or if I want to summon it from a distance — we need to agree to a contract.”
I turned to look at her, my eyebrows knitting together. “How does that work with monsters that don’t talk?”
She flipped the pages to another diagram. “Different diagrams for different monsters. Once I charge it with mana, they basically touch each of the runes to examine them. If they ‘agree’, they contribute their own mana, signing the contract.”
“Huh. Are things like slimes really smart enough to know how to do that?”
She smirked. “Evidently. But I’m not the type to make a contract with a slime.”
“Of course not.” I huffed out a short breath that could almost be called a snort. “Planning out your first contract already?”
Her smirk broadened. “Who says I don’t have one already?”
I narrowed my eyes at the implication. “When would you have had the opportunity? Attunements are given at the end of the Judgment, and I doubt you’ve had a chance to track down any wild monsters in the week since we finished.”
“Maybe when you tell me about the rest of your tower escapades, I’ll let you in on my secret. Maybe.” She tilted her head to meet my gaze. I rolled my own eyes in response, standing up.
“Oh, I think I can figure it out on my own. Enjoy your studies.”
She laughed. “I’ll look forward to hearing your inaccurate guesses.”
I chuckled, already turning over ideas in my head as I continued toward the enchanting section. Removing a list from a pouch on my side — I’d abandoned my much larger backpack at my room — I looked at my list of classes and their book requirements.
I’ve got Magic Theory on Tashday and Fersday, Understanding Attunements class on Kyrsday and Tensday, Physical Combat doesn’t need any books… Let’s see, I need the books for Introductory Runes on Fersday and Vasday and Mana Manipulation on Tashday… And it looks like I need to pick an elective at some point, too.
Looks like Fersday and Tashday will be the busiest, since I’ve already got two classes on each. Might be smart to pick an elective for a different day.
I was sufficiently distracted that I nearly bumped into someone. I looked up just in time, only to freeze in the shock of recognition.
She froze, too. For a moment, our eyes met, and I felt a surge of long-buried emotions.
Clutching her books tightly to her chest, the girl — no, a young woman now — looked away, fleeing without another word.
It was not a coward’s move. I had been about to do the same, and I thanked her for taking the necessity away from me. I wasn’t quite ready to confront the implications of our meeting here. Apparently, neither was she.
I pushed her from my mind as quickly as I could, just as I had for years. Enchanting. I was planning to get books on enchanting.
I picked up some of the first books I came across, too distracted by my mental athletics to properly focus, and headed for the counter.
The librarian, an older man with long and vast gray sideburns, quirked an eyebrow as I set the books down. “A little ambitious, aren’t we?”
Of the three books I was checking out, two of them were marked “advanced”, intended for graduates. Oops.
I offered him a winning smile. “I’d like to get ahead of the schedule.”
The librarian chuckled. “You’ll change your mind soon enough. Sign here and here.” He pressed a slip across the table, which I signed.
With my mind still spinning in circles, it landed on a particular issue I realized I hadn’t sufficiently examined. “Um, I don’t know if you know this, but I’m supposed to deliver a message to Lyras Orden. Is that Professor Orden?”
“Yep,” he confirmed. “That’s her.”
Good. It would have been embarrassing if I told my whole story to the wrong Orden. Embarrassing and potentially dangerous.
“One of the other teachers put you up to errands already?”
My lips twitched. “No.” Not unless I counted Mysterious Book Entity as a teacher. “This is a personal favor for someone, but I imagine the errands will come soon enough.”
“Take my advice — don’t let them make you a servant. Especially not Orden, she’ll work you to the bone.” He snatched my signed papers from across the table. “Enjoy your books.”
I nodded and swept them under my arm, fleeing the scene. I couldn’t help but glance back toward where I had seen Cecily Lambert, but she was already gone.
* * *
I made it back to the relative shelter of my room, examining my haul from the library. In my hurry, I hadn’t actually picked up the books I needed for the semester, but I suspected any copies of those would be long gone — many students would have rushed straight there to try to save the coin necessary to purchase them. I’d have to hit the book store later.
The ones I had managed to pick up were interesting, though. Ambient Mana and Its Sources by Rellik was the only entry-level book. Advanced Artifice: Permanent Enchantments was something I was deeply interested in, but Inaccuracies in Modern Teachings of Enchanting History sounded considerably duller.
A quick glance through the Advanced Artifice book told me that the smug librarian had been right — I needed a stronger foundation before I could get much out of such an advanced book. I could guess at what a Personal Mana Conversion Ratio was, but I didn’t know the context behind why it was important or how to figure one out.
I spent much of the rest of the day reading through my rune book, not daring to brave the outside again and the prospect of seeing anyone else I was familiar with. My stomach would eventually drive me to the dining hall, but my paperwork indicated it was open late, and a later visit was more likely to help me dodge the horrors of social interaction.
Social interaction, however, would not be so easily denied. It was a pesky creature, incessant in its hunt. A few knocks on my door, slower and more deliberate than the first set, signaled its next move.
I sighed, dislodging myself from my chair and setting down my book. When I opened the door, I found another unfamiliar student on the opposite side.
He was broad, blonde, and muscular, a light layer of scruff distributed across his chin. He gave me a curt nod and extended an ungloved right hand — a sign that he was either not a noble, or that he already had retainers to protect him. “Curtis Maddock, your dorm chief.”
I accepted his handshake, noting the firmness of his grip and the brightly glowing attunement mark on his wrist. A different symbol graced a second attunement higher up on his arm, near the bicep.
I blinked. “Corin Cadence. How do you already have a second attunement?”
He grinned as he retracted his hand and folded his arms, standing a little straighter. “I’m a second year. Made it up to the fifth floor on last year’s final exam.”
I raised a hand to scratch my chin, intrigued. “They send you back to the tower as an exam?”
“Yup. Right at the end of the year. First year, a teacher goes with you. Second year, you’ll have to go by yourselves. You only need to reach the second floor to pass.” He patted his arm. “But like I said, my group made it to the fifth last year.”
Curtis had immediately made himself much more interesting and worth my time.
Naturally, I barraged him with questions. “How’d you make it so far? Was there any particular strategy you employed? Do you remember the specific rooms you had to deal with?”
He chuckled in response. “Can’t tell you about the rooms I do remember; that’s part of the test. Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. We can talk strategy sometime, though, once you’re a little better prepared. Anyway, I’ve got to get to the other rooms. We’re going to have a dorm meeting in an hour, on the grass outside. Just wanted to invite you.”
I nodded in silent thanks.
I didn’t want to be around that many people, but getting to know someone who had blazed through that many floors in his first year was a worthwhile investment. “I’ll be there.”
He waved amiably. “See you soon.”
I closed my door, going back to my studies.
I’m going to need more books on the tower.
I’d already read several, but they were mostly geared toward the Judgment. The other books on other elements of the tower were still intended for people who hadn’t ever been to one; I needed information that was more applicable toward someone who wanted to make it higher in the tower.
Every floor I explored was one step closer to getting Tristan back and I was far from giving up.
I also needed a book on attunements — I hadn’t recognized the ones on Curtis’ arm at a glance, which was embarrassing. There were only eight local ones, but I could only remember about five of the symbols at the moment. I’d make it a priority to pick up the book for my attunements class soon.
I headed out to the grass after the hour was up, a book still in hand. I stood a few paces away from the gathering crowd while they chatted with each other, awaiting Curtis’ arrival. That took a few more minutes, then it was a few more before the grass was fully populated. Curtis instructed us to gather in a circle.
“All right, people. Looks like we’ve got a few dissidents who aren’t going to show. That’s fine. They’ll just have to miss out on my brilliant sense of humor and style.”
He laughed, and there were a few half-hearted chuckles in reply. I appreciated his effort at humor, even if it fell mostly flat.
“Uh, anyway, yeah. I stayed here last year, and we made a great team. Well, six great teams, actually. Later in the year, you’re going to get split into teams of — you guessed it — six students. So, get to know each other while you can, yeah? Much easier to take the tests if you already can work together.”
He pointed at himself. “I’ll be your dorm chief. You come to me if you have any problems with anyone, from this dorm or otherwise, and I’ll try to straighten them out. I’ll also answer questions, provided I’m allowed to. We’re going to go around in a circle and introduce ourselves, then I’ll let you guys take things from there.”
He pointed to the guy to his right to start with introductions. I paid minimal attention, only noting people who mentioned experiences that interested me, until the rotation reached someone I hadn’t expected to show up — the almond-eyed teen who had knocked on my door earlier.
“Jin. Pleased to meet you all.”
Jin. Just Jin. He didn’t give his surname, nor his attunement. Both omissions were clearly deliberate.
He must have caught me looking at him. He flashed a half-grin my way, dark eyes alight with amusement.
When the rotation reached me, I kept my own introduction brief, but more informative. “Corin Cadence. Enchanter.”
I wasn’t going to make any claims about being happy to be there; the lie would have been obvious.
A few students later, a short, overweight blond hooked my attention. “Oh, hey everyone, I’m Tom. McCormick, that is. Most of my friends call me Tommy, or Big Tom, but don’t worry, it doesn’t bother me. Anyway, I guess I’m what they call a Mender. Pretty good, huh? I think it’s one of the best attunements, except maybe Summoners, who are pretty much the best at everything.”
His rambling was excessive, but there weren’t a lot of Menders in my dorm; it was mostly other Enchanters. If I needed a Mender for a group activity later in the year, I’d keep him in mind.
After the introductions, we dispersed pretty fast. I noted the general direction Jin was heading — second floor, toward the right — before he disappeared from my line of sight.
I’d figure him out. It was just a matter of time.
Chapter VI — Precautions
Wyddsday, my final day to prepare before classes started, hit me faster than expected. As I’d suspected, all my basic school books were unavailable in the library, so I’d spent some time browsing local shops to find the cheapest used copies that I could. Every coin I saved was one more I could put toward enchanting supplies.
I’d looked into those, too, but I didn’t have enough context to know what I’d actually need to buy. Mana crystals came in dozens of elemental varieties and several different sizes.
I checked the magic book for replies several times, but the Voice never wrote anything further. I concluded that either it was too busy or that it could only communicate through the book while it was in the tower. I planned to continue checking periodically anyway. It wouldn’t hurt.
I bought some basic food, easy to store food for my room as well. It’d be important if I needed to skip going to the dining hall for any reason. I kept to the cheap stuff, wanting to save as much money as possible.
With all those basic preparations in place, I spent most of my time reading my introductory books. Most of the students seemed to want to use their last days of freedom to socialize, but I was more interested in getting as much of an advantage as possible.
My final errand was one the most interesting, and one I’d been simultaneously excited and terrified about. It was time to visit Professor Orden and talk about what I’d seen in the tests.
I found a long line of students in front of me when I reached her office.
Of course there’s a line. She’s the supervisor for one of the classes. I’m sure a lot of the students are meeting with their supervisors for advice or any way to get an early edge.
I was, of course, the only Enchanter in line for the class that was meant for Diviners and Shadows.
Jin was at the front of the line. He saw me, quirked an eyebrow, and disappeared into the professor’s room.
As the students in line conversed with each other, I considered Jin. His black shirt had a high collar, and he wore gloves on both hands — an irregularity that was most likely designed to conceal his attunement.
He was in the Phoenix Division dorms, which implied that he was an Enchanter or a Mender. Of course, it was also possible he had a foreign attunement that was similar to ours.
Either way, he probably wouldn’t be getting training from Professor Orden. She was in charge of Diviners and Shadows, which had little similarity to the attunements used by the Phoenix Division.
If he was a Spider with a Diviner or a Shadow Attunement, though, he’d have a great reason to visit her for training or advice.
Asking people if they were members of House Spider was a great way to imply he was trying to find them, and thus not a member of House Spider himself. But it was such an obvious tactic for a Spider to use that many would suspect him of being one, just for doing it.
Which implied that he was either legitimately trying to gather information or deliberately trying to get people to question if he was a Spider or not.
Goddess, I wished I had thought to do it first. It sounded terribly entertaining.
Maybe I could still get in on the idea later.
He exited the room a few minutes later, nodding to me with a smirk as he passed by. I continued to wait as patiently as I could as other students took their turns, my mind traversing several threads as I waited.
It was at least an hour before I finally made it inside the door.
Professor Orden sat behind a long wooden desk, hands folded neatly in front of her, staring directly at me as I entered. Her crisp black suit and neutral expression were a stark contrast to the piles of everything imaginable that occupied nearly every usable space in the room.
I couldn’t see how she’d made it behind the desk without climbing over it. There were file cabinets blocking the paths on both sides of the desk, and the walls were lined with bookshelves. While there were some books, the shelves primarily seemed to carry miscellaneous trinkets. Bits of metal, tiny crystals, a crystalline feather, and what looked like a blackened human skull were sprawled haphazardly across them. A collection of masks occupied the little empty space on the back wall.
“Close the door behind you.” She gestured with one hand, and I complied. When I looked back, she’d returned to her neutral position, hands folded in front of her. “You’re not in my class. What brings you here, Cadence?”
I frowned. I knew her position connected her to a class of people that gathered information, but I hadn’t expected her to know me.
It took me another moment to realize that she didn’t need to. I was wearing my house’s symbol on my glove, like I always did, and I had an attunement glowing on my forehead that put me in a different class. She was probably just being observant and deliberately trying to disarm me.
I could appreciate that sort of thing, but I wasn’t in the mood for theatrics. I was nervous enough already.
“I have a message for you, but my understanding is that it’s something that shouldn’t be overheard. Is this a good place and time, or…?”
She waved a hand and stood up with deliberate effort. “Just wait for a moment.”
Professor Orden traced a pattern on the wall behind her with a single finger, leaving a gleaming trail where her finger made contact.
She’s drawing runes. I didn’t recognize the specific shapes, but she drew several of them.
She turned around, folding her arms. “This had better be worth my effort.”
“It’s secure now?”
She nodded in confirmation. “I took the basic precautions. Out with it.”
I glanced at the runes, then back to her. “The Voice of the Tower would like to speak to you.”
She let out a string of creative expletives, the kind and variety that you’re definitely not supposed to say in front of children.
“I’m pretty sure that’s anatomically impossible,” I replied.
“Quiet. I need to think.” She shut her eyes, folding her arms again.
Is this really that big of a problem? I haven’t even told her the details yet.
It was several moments before Professor Orden reopened her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I spoke too soon. This office is secure, but not secure enough for this conversation. I will contact you again at a later time. If you have not already been informed, you are most likely in significant danger. Take precautions. Do not speak to anyone else of this.”
I held up my hands in a warding gesture. “Significant danger? Can you, uh, elaborate about that please?”
Orden tightened her lips. “Just the fact that you know about the existence of the Voice means you probably attracted the attention of one or more of the visages. The kind of attention that usually results in people disappearing. So, as I said, take precautions.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Precautions? Against a visage?”
“Goddess above, boy, were you never briefed on this? Never mind. A visage isn’t going to be dropping out of the sky to annihilate you directly. Their agents are the ones you need to worry about. I can’t give you details here. Wherever you’re sleeping, ward it. Be thorough. Set up means for contacting help rapidly. Keep a weapon near you at all times. If you’re attacked directly, retreat to a populated area and make as much noise as possible.”
“By ward it, you mean—”
The professor held up a hand to stop me. “Don’t tell anyone about the details of your precautions, including me.” Her lips pursed, and she turned to the book case on her right, retrieving a key from the clutter. She tapped three times on a drawer in her desk, whispered something, and then turned the key in the lock. Once the drawer was open, she whispered again and reached inside.
There was an intricately carved chest inside the drawer, as well as a small pouch. The box immediately caught my eye. The runes on it resembled the ones on the entrance doors to the Serpent Spire, but I’d never seen similar styles on human-made equipment.
She removed the pouch and closed the drawer. “You’d better have good enough information to make this worth my trouble, Cadence.”
I lifted the bag. It didn’t have much heft to it, but there were at least a few coins inside. “Thank you.”
“You can thank me by leaving quickly, pretending this conversation never happened, and not dying until we have an opportunity to discuss things further.”
Goddess, what did I get myself into? “What if someone asks why I was here?”
“You had a message to deliver from my sister, Caela. It was a physical letter. You didn’t read it. I thanked you, paid you a courier fee, and sent you on your way.”
“Where would I have met this sister?”
“No one is going to ask you that.” She sighed. “But you’re right to ask. Say she was at the school’s recruitment tent outside the tower. No one will think to check. Now go.”
Her tone didn’t brook any argument. She sat back down, moving to her default position, waiting for the next student. I left the room, walking hurriedly back to my dorm.
* * *
The first thing I did when I got back to my room was try to write down the runes that I’d seen on the box in her drawer. I’d only had a few moments to look at them, but I thought I had a pretty good recollection of what some of them looked like.
My basic rune book was no help, but Advanced Artifice had some clues.
The central rune was something called a “containment” rune, and it was used for storing things inside a container that were larger than the container itself. I’d heard of things like that before — bags that were used to store large numbers of items, for example. There were diagrams for the runes for making exactly that type of bag, but while the central rune matched that design, nothing else did.
I came close to identifying one of the other runes, the one just to the left of center. It looked similar to a rune designed for governing range for teleportation spells, but the bottom section was drawn differently.
The one on the far right? I was pretty sure I’d either remembered it wrong or it was just a bunch of squiggles someone had made while they were bored.
I still didn’t know enough to understand what the whole thing was supposed to do, but I could tell this kind of thing was powerful. The kinds of runes I saw in the introductory runes book had “mana values” in the single digits. The most similar teleportation range rune I could find was classified at Citrine-level and required air mana and transference mana in the hundreds.
There were a number of other runes on the box that I couldn’t remember as well, and ones I couldn’t make out at all from my angle.
I really wanted one. Maybe I could convince her to let me take a look at it in more detail later?
I also wanted to know why she’d whispered before opening the drawer. Was she unlocking the drawer, or maybe disabling a trap?
I sighed. It didn’t matter. The box, as interesting as it was, wasn’t what I had to work with.
She’d told me to take precautions, so that was the next thing on my agenda. What could I do with the resources I had on hand? I had my handful of crystals, a few silver sigils and some bronze ones, and whatever she’d put in that pouch.
I checked the bag, fully expecting it to contain more wealth than I’d seen in my entire life. It didn’t. Just a half dozen extra silver sigils… and, more interestingly, a single finger-sized transparent crystal.
I’d have to figure out how to identify crystals at a glance at some point.
In the meantime, I packed the crystal away with my others and flipped open the basic runes book. I managed to locate a couple of the runes I’d seen the professor drawing on the wall, and I wondered how she’d been doing it without crystals in hand. Was she powering the runes herself? If so, how many attunements did she have?
The one on the left was “silence”, a simple rune for blocking noise. The other one was “blindness”, which blocked vision. Drawing them on walls wouldn’t do anything on its own, though.
Some of her runes must have been to tie the runes to the wall as an area of effect, then to focus them outward, preventing people outside from seeing or hearing what was within. Predictably, I couldn’t find those runes in the basic book, even though they were the most important.
And I still didn’t have the materials to power any of those runes, even if I knew them.
Maybe I was thinking too much in terms of runes. I still hadn’t even tried to make one yet, so it was probably a little too soon to be formulating my defense plan around them. There were simpler ways to protect myself, at least until I’d taken a few days of classes and made some test runes.
It didn’t take me long to purchase a few mundane supplies at a nearby store. I also checked the school rules for modifying the interior of the room — I could make some basic alterations as long as I fixed them before I left.
Good.
Nailing my door shut at night wasn’t exactly elegant, but it was a pretty effective deterrent. Much more than a simple lock, which undoubtedly any number of spells — or even mundane tricks — could remove. It would be pretty tough to dislodge a board nailed to the wall without anyone noticing.
Eventually, I’d get a silence rune so that people didn’t hear me nailing a board over my door every night.
I considered setting traps, but in a small enclosed space I doubted I’d be able to make them any more of a threat to an intruder than they were to me.
My room only had one entrance, the door. That was fortunate. I didn’t know how I’d handle anything as vulnerable as a window.
I also bought chalk. I’d place a small chip in the hinge of the door when I was about to leave. If I came back and found it crushed, it would imply that someone had been in my room while I’d been gone.
With some effort, I switched around the configuration of my room, putting my bed on the opposite side. If someone was going to blast straight in from the doorway, I’d be out of their line of attack.
My preparations felt woefully insufficient to handle any real threat, but most of the other options I considered were either too expensive (lining the walls with anti-magic materials), logistically infeasible (sleep somewhere other than my dorm room), or outside of my current capabilities (warding the walls).
I didn’t sleep much that night, but I felt some comfort from the sword cradled in my arms and the aura of frost seeping through the scabbard and provided a reassuring chill.
* * *
Tashday, the first day of classes.
I hadn’t been murdered in the middle of the night. Success!
I didn’t feel that successful, though. I felt exhausted, cranky, and a little bit numb. As it turns out, sleeping with a frost-enchanted sword in your arms has some disadvantages.
For the future, I’d remember to sleep with my dueling cane nearby instead of my sword.
I could already hear the sounds of the parade students heading their way toward the mess hall, trying to get in a meal before classes started. As much as it dismayed me to come into the presence of people again, my stomach was feeling neglected, so I decided to join them.
I winced at the damage to the wood as I unhooked my board from the doorway. There was no doubting that the board would be an effective delay, but it was going to do an unsustainable amount of damage if I had to keep it up for long. I’d have to look into getting a chain to replace it eventually. Possibly several chains. Ideally enchanted ones.
With that done, I realized I still wasn’t in my school uniform, and I’d been told it was mandatory for classes. Like all of the school uniforms, mine was primarily white, but it was accented with copper buttons and crimson epaulets to signify that I was a part of Phoenix Division. Red wasn’t really my color, but the uniform fit me better than I’d expected, and I had to admit that the floor-length overcoat was pretty nice.
I pinned on the shield sigil, and I immediately felt more like I was really attuned. I had a magical shield. I wondered how much it had to cost to provide every student with one of these. Did all our actual soldiers get them, too?
Putting the pin on also made me feel a good deal safer. I had no illusions that it would help me if Katashi came for me directly, but a protective barrier could help if someone else tried to get rid of me.
I resolved to wear the pin at all times. Even when I was sleeping. Especially when I was sleeping.
I belted on my sword — which I really needed to name at some point, all the best magic swords had names — and headed to the mess hall.
The scents hit me almost as soon as the building was in sight. I’d expected the dining hall food to be bland and uninspired, but the smell that filled the air were thick sauces and heavy spices. Some kind of curry, maybe? I loved curry, but I hadn’t had it since a family vacation to Dalenos in my youth. It wasn’t common in traditional Valian cuisine.
The line was less inspiring than the smell. It took me at least half an hour of waiting in the throng of students to get inside the door. I’d say it added to the anticipation, but I still would have preferred instant gratification.
I spotted a couple familiar faces amongst the students in the line. Patrick Wayland, Lisa Stone, and a few others that I’d gone to school with as a child. No doubt there were many others among my former classmates in the line who were too different in appearance for me to recognize. My three years of “private tutoring” had scraped my relationships down to the bone.
I didn’t resent my father for pulling me out of school. I understood his reasoning, his lack of trust for the system that had failed to adequately train my brother for his contest against the games of the goddess. I did resent his adamant refusal to allow me to visit with my friends. Letters helped for a time, but within a year, most of my friendships had atrophied from disuse.
When I neared the front of the line, I saw a list of meal options. I could pick from curried chicken, salmon, and some kind of unfamiliar pastry called a “cinnagar cake”. I picked the chicken and sides of seasoned potato slices and a mixture of vegetables.
It was a disconcertingly good meal. I grew suspicious. Were we being lulled into thinking we’d get excellent food so that it could be taken away at a later time?
Or maybe it was just the fact that this school was attended by those who had been wealthy enough to take an attunement test, and thus they had high standards. I wasn’t sure.
For the moment, at least, I wasn’t going to complain.
After a significant amount of searching, I managed to find an empty table to sit alone. I had a few minutes of precious silence, sipping the apple juice I’d chosen for a beverage and reading a book, before Sera manifested in front of me.
I didn’t even have a chance to groan before she’d put down her plate and sat down. It was too early for me to interact with the living, and in spite of my general fondness for Sera, she still was another entity and thus a toll on my exhausted mind.
“Corin.” She gave me a catlike grin, slicing into her own chosen dish with relish. “Good morning, brother.”
I closed my book, looking up to pin her eyes with mine. They were lighter than my own, more like my father’s.
“Good morning, my dear sister.” If my reply fazed her in any respect, she didn’t show it.
Affectionate terminology gamble: unsuccessful.
We continued our staring contest until I very deliberately smiled, speared a potato with my fork, and turned to bite it. “Mm. The food here is shockingly delicious. Think it’s a trap?”
“You’ve always been so suspicious of everything.” She raised her own fork, then speared one of my potatoes with it. My eyes flared in indignation, but she paid them no heed. “Even when we were children. Sometimes, you know, a potato is just a potato.”
I nodded. “Except that one. That’s the one I laced with a deadly toxin. I meant to serve it to one of my enemies later, but alas…”
She reached up, putting a hand over her chest. “I fear I can feel my heart’s last rapid thrums even now.” She contorted her lips. “Or, wait, they’d probably be slower, not faster, wouldn’t they? Alas, I feel the last glacial pulses of my frozen—”
“Both glacial and frozen? Seems a little excessive.”
“Not when your heart is as cold as mine. Frigid with the frost of betrayal, by my own, dear, darling, brother. Who is also my sibling.”
I stabbed another potato. “On second thought, I think this was the poisoned one. Goddess, thanks for everything.” I popped it into my mouth. “Mm, delicious. Tastes like eternal suffering.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you were a believer in the Punishments.”
“Oh, I’m not, but it was too good of a line for me not to say it.”
“That’s your idea of a good line? Please, Corin. I know you haven’t been to a school in years—”
“That’s low, ‘sister’—”
“—but even you should have higher standards for dramatic monologues. You never know when you might need one.”
I paused, cutting into my chicken. “Okay, that last part actually managed to sound vaguely ominous. I’ll give you credit for that.”
She gave a mocking bow over the table. “Thank you. It feels so good to be appreciated on occasion.”
“But I’m confident you had more of a reason to be here than just to engage me with displays of your scintillating intellect.”
“Scintillating? My, now I almost suspect you want something from me.”
I took a bite of the chicken. “I thought I was supposed to be the suspicious one.”
“Touché. Well, as it happens, your ‘confidence’ has at least some degree of merit. I wanted to ask if you’d read what was in the morning paper.”
I shook my head. “I barely ever follow the news. Rarely anything of interest.”
“Ah, but if you don’t read the paper, you’ll miss the occasional intriguing bit that’s buried beneath the rumors, gossip, and advertisements.”
I knew she was baiting me, but the hook sunk. “And this intriguing bit would be…?”
“Two unconnected pieces that paint an interesting picture, if one imagines they’re connected. One is a report of Edrian troop movements along our southern border.”
“They’re posturing. They do that all the time. Edria likes to keep us nervous, flex their military muscle.”
She continued, ignoring my interruption. “The second is a rumor that Tenjin hasn’t attended the last three Council meetings.”
That caught my attention.
Tenjin, the visage responsible for overseeing the Serpent Spire, the one in which I’d taken my own trial, and the only tower local to our kingdom. As our local visage, he frequently interacted with the local government, serving as an advisor to the queen and the Council of Lords.
But it wasn’t Tenjin that I’d seen in the tower; it was Katashi, the visage normally associated with the Tortoise Spire and the Theocracy of Dalenos.
The visages did travel, of course, but that was supposed to be rare. Missing one Council meeting would have been understandable, but three in a row did strike me as odd. Adding in another visage being inside her tower while foreign troops marched nearby?
That sounded a lot like a warning flag for an invasion.
Sera saw something in my expression. “You caught it, too, then. If Tenjin is missing, something may be amiss. Maybe Edria is finally ready to march.”
“People have been saying that for years.” I spoke the words, but my mind was racing in other directions.
I might be the only person who knows about Katashi’s presence in our tower — other than Vera, I suppose, and Keras if he survived. Vera said he was a foreigner. Is Keras from Edria, or off the continent entirely? Could he have something to do with Tenjin being missing?
It was a disconcerting thought. Aside from the visages and the god beasts themselves, I couldn’t think of any entity I’d ever heard of that could pose a threat to a visage. The goddess herself didn’t count, of course. She’d never been known to directly intervene in mortal affairs.
Of course, Katashi could have been the reason that Tenjin was missing, too. That was a far worse scenario.
“I know, but their constant troop movements generate complacency, which makes us vulnerable for when they do finally decide to strike.”
I nodded, too wrapped in my own thoughts to give her a coherent reply. “Hm.”
We ate quietly for another minute.
“You know something.”
I frowned, looking up at her. “What makes you say that?”
“I know you, Corin. The years haven’t changed us that much.”
Or, at least, you don’t want to admit they have. That’s why you keep teasing me, prodding me, testing me.
You’re not going to like what you find.
But she was right on one count, of course. I did know something. “Later. I can’t talk about it here.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You’re always so careful. Just tell me!”
I shook my head. “Not about this. It’s serious, Sera, and I’m serious.”
Sera paused her eating, tilting her head to the side. “Hm.” After a few moments, she nodded. “All right, but we’re going to talk about this again later.”
“I can’t make any promises.” I could have just lied to her, but it didn’t feel appropriate. I didn’t like the idea of deceiving someone who was sincerely seeking knowledge.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. So, what’s your first class?”
* * *
My first class, fortunately, was not with Sera. As much as I liked her, I knew she wasn’t going to stop bothering me about my “secret” until I gave her hints, and I’d put together enough to know that it could put her — and me — in actual danger.
It only occurred to me while I walked that Sera might have been in danger regardless of whether or not I told her what I knew. If anyone knew we were related, they could easily assume she knew whatever I did, or simply try to take her for leverage.
I put “find a way to convince Sera to protect herself” as a high importance item on my mental checklist. I’d need to do it discretely, in a way that didn’t draw too much extra attention toward her.
We both had General Magic Theory as our first class of the day, but we were assigned to different lecture halls; there were about two dozen of them across the campus.
The teacher was an unfamiliar one. She was a young, black-skinned woman with the distinctive poise of a combat mage. She walked with the assistance of a cane, which helped to conceal a limp. A dueling wound, or a war wound, maybe? It took me a moment to realize that the cane she used was a dueling cane. A normal dueling cane might barely reach from elbow to wrist in length; the longer style that could double as a walking cane had fallen out of fashion a century earlier. I’d never trained with one, but I’d seen my great-grandfather’s on display at home.
She took her place at the podium, grinning and revealing a perfect set of teeth. “Good morning, class. I’m Professor Meltlake.”
That line drew a murmur from the class. Her surname was a local legend. She’d earned it by literally setting a lake on fire during a magical duel. I still had no idea how she’d done it.
I was very eager to find out.
“This class will go over the basic principles of magic that are applicable to all users of attunements. As this is the first class, I’ll be taking some time to cover the structure of the course, some basic terminology, and the reading material you’ll need to get started on. But first, we’ll take attendance.”
She read student names from a list, and I answered at the appropriate time. I recognized a few names of people from my dorm, but none of the ones who had strongly interested me. Patrick Wayland was there, though, and I looked at him when he responded to his name. He caught my look, gave a startled expression, and then gave me a subdued wave. I waved back.
I regretted it almost immediately and began to worry that he would want to socialize with me later. This was followed by a few moments of self-recrimination — after all, why wouldn’t I want to reunite with a childhood friend — and a longer stretch of crushing self-doubt.
The professor tapped her cane against the desk, which snapped me back into attention. “Now that we’ve handled attendance, let’s discuss this class, shall we? Magic Theory will be your primary class this year, and in spite of the generic name, it contains the most important things you’ll be studying. Consequently, Magic Theory will also be the class where you are tested on the sum total of what you’ve learned in other classes.”
She gestured with her cane toward the right wall. “On the other side of the campus, you’ll find the testing grounds. You will be tested three times during the semester on those grounds, typically with a group. These tests will determine if you’ve managed to pick up enough to apply the teachings of all of your classes. Think of each of these tests as being similar to your Judgment, but with a team and more difficult challenges.”
I nodded along with the rest of the class. I’d heard of simulated Judgments before; my brother had taken one. Apparently, it had been insufficient.
“These tests are important for allowing your teachers to evaluate if you’re ready for more dangerous tests such as reentering the tower through the Climber’s Gate. If you make it far enough, you’ll go in through that gate at the end of the semester.”
I heard a series of murmurs from the class on that. I’d already heard about the tower excursion, but apparently it wasn’t common knowledge. Professor Meltlake tapped on the podium again, signaling for silence.
“Of course, that requires a degree of success with the previous tests. Historically, only about sixty percent of our students make it to the final test. Those who fail early in the year will be dismissed and sent directly to military service, without the benefits of being a fully-trained attuned. If you fail toward the end of the year, you’ll be forced to repeat this year’s classes and try again. That will not count as your second year at the academy, and thus, you would still have to complete an additional year of classes before beginning your mandatory service.”
I can’t let either of those happen. If I get sent off to the military without learning to use my attunement, I could die without ever getting another chance at the tower. Even being sent back to restart the year could lower my total score to a point where the military would never allow me to be a climber.
“I’m certain most of you will want to avoid those unseemly fates, and thus, it behooves you to study to the best of your ability. For this class, your primary text will be Elementary Concepts of Magic by Steven Bryer. There are three optional texts, and you’ll find those listed in your papers. I encourage you to read the optional texts, but only if you are keeping pace with your reading for your other classes.”
She smiled, raising her cane. “Now that we’ve gotten through the boring part…”
Meltlake’s cane sprouted a stream of fire into the sky. I heard murmurs of awe from a good number of the students. They apparently hadn’t seen as many demonstrations of magic as I had. That barely rated as a parlor trick.
“Let’s talk about mana calling, shall we?” She grinned, lowering her cane.
“Mana calling is the foundation of all magic. All humans have mana in our bodies, and that mana can take several distinct forms. For non-attuned humans and most weak monsters, the majority of this mana is generic. In academics, we refer to this as gray mana.
“Non-attuned can generally only utilize their mana through devices, such as a dueling cane. As an attuned, however, you will be learning to utilize your mana for a broad variety of different purposes. An individual application of mana for a specific purpose is generally called a spell, and the use of spells is referred to as magic.”
I could already see a few people frowning, and I could guess at one of the reasons why: some attunements weren’t overtly “magical” in nature. The Guardian Attunement, for example, was focused on unarmed physical combat. I knew they could do things that were beyond normal human capabilities — like breaking a wall with a punch — but I hadn’t thought of that as being magic.
“The most important thing to learn is that magic, as a general concept, is easy. Learning specific spells and getting them right, however, can be quite difficult. To properly cast a spell, you must remember the exact amounts of mana you need, and then draw that mana from the appropriate parts of your body.”
Meltlake twirled her cane like a baton, creating a trail of flame that emitted from the tip and followed her motions. I heard a murmur of awe as she drew a burning attunement symbol, which lingered in the air until she waved her other hand and dispersed the flames. “I am an Elementalist. My attunement gives me access to fire and air mana at the location of the mark — in my case, my right hand. So, what would I do if I ran out of mana in my right hand?”
One of the students stood up to indicate he had a question. Belatedly, I realized it was Patrick. “Um, we’d need to convert the mana from somewhere else in our body?”
The professor nodded. “Very good. Patrick, was it? You may sit down.”
She tapped her forehead with two fingers. “Let’s take the mind, for example. As one might expect, the mind primarily generates mental mana. As an Elementalist, I can’t actually use this to cast mental spells, but I can convert it into air mana or fire mana through the use of my attunement. This is less efficient than using the appropriate type of mana, and I would not recommend attempting it until you have more experience. That said, it is an essential technique for attuned to learn.”
She gave more examples, explaining that an inappropriate mixture of mana could cause spells to change in function or fail catastrophically.
Hrm, maybe I can deliberately create new spells by mixing different types of mana. I probably shouldn’t experiment with that until I understand this much better, though.
“It’s also important not to draw too much mana from any specific part of your body. Using too much of your heart’s mana will kill you. Using too much of your mind’s mana will also kill you. Other mana pools are less likely to cause immediate death, but nevertheless, overuse is a significant danger and often can cause permanent damage.”
Oh, good, all I have to worry about is brain damage or killing myself when I use my attunement.
Of the two costs, it was the former that made me shudder.
I was willing to sacrifice a great deal in the pursuit of the power I needed, but my mind…
Well, everyone had something they were afraid of losing.
“Your first assignment will be to head to the Divinatory before our next class on Tensday. There, you will be tested to learn your current mana values in your main mana pool locations: mind; heart; right hand; left hand; right leg; left leg; and lungs. You will also be tested to learn safe mana capacities for each location. If you are discovered exceeding your safe limits without explicit permission you will face severe punishments, potentially including expulsion.”
She gave another toothy grin after that line. “Class is dismissed.”
* * *
I escaped the lecture hall as swiftly as I could. I wasn’t quite ready for a reunion with Patrick or any other old friends that might have seen me.
It turns out that spending three years away from school made me less eager to socialize. Who would have guessed?
I figured I’d probably catch up with Patrick eventually and make some excuses; I couldn’t run away from old acquaintances forever. Not if I wanted to succeed, anyway.
Getting to graduation was one of my highest priorities. I needed to graduate and get a high enough score to ensure I could spend my years of military service as a climber rather than in some other branch of the service. To ensure that, I’d need to make sure I took my classes extremely seriously.
I needed allies if I was going to succeed in group tests, and I’d need people I could trust for when I eventually started climbing the tower. No sane person tried to climb one of the towers alone.
Once I’d gotten clear of sight from the lecture hall, my next objective was to figure out which elective I was going to pick. Five of my classes for the year were mandatory, but I had a single elective slot to choose. I should have picked it much sooner — possibly with some advice for the teacher responsible for overseeing Phoenix Division — but it hadn’t felt like a pressing concern. With some of the electives starting that day, though, I had to make a choice.
The most obvious options were the ones that were directly applicable to my attunement. I saw three of those: Introduction to Ritual Magic; The Art of Artifice: Permanent Enchantments; and Introductory Potion Enchantments.
There were also some options that appealed to me on a personal level. Introduction to Magical Dueling would have been the obvious choice in that regard. I’d spent most of my life training with a dueling cane and studying the techniques used by my father, his father, and so on down the line.
Of course, they’d all been attuned, and most of those techniques weren’t things I could hope to mimic properly. Even now, I’d be a sub-par magical duelist; my attunement wasn’t made for direct confrontations. People would probably laugh at an Enchanter for even trying to take the class.
If they did, I’d be the one laughing after our first match.
Enchanter or not, I was still a Cadence. I knew how to fight.
I looked at some other options, and a few of the classes focused on history and tactics sounded interesting, but I knew where I was leaning the moment I saw the dueling class on the list.
I also knew I’d potentially be less competitive with my own attunement if I didn’t take an elective to enhance my skills. I decided to find a way to solve both problems at once.
I went back to my room, skimmed the rules, and didn’t see anything indicating I couldn’t take an additional elective. That solidified my plan: I’d take the Art of Artifice and make magical items focused on dueling, while attending the dueling class at the same time.
I’d have to hope I could afford the materials for the items, and that I didn’t have to fight anyone until I had some magic items ready. Gambling on multiple factors made me nervous, but that just meant that I’d have to work harder to minimize the risks.
I knew I’d be hurting for free time if I took an extra class, but that was a problem for future me.
I had a few options on when I could take the classes, but my schedule for the rest of the day was open, so I decided to go to the next dueling class that was available. That ended up being just a few hours later. I used that time to look up the relevant books for the class — it turned out there weren’t any — and to pick up some lunch.
There weren’t any classrooms at the spot on the map where the class was listed. Instead, I found an outdoor stage with stands to seat at least a couple hundred people. It was clearly designed for theater performances, but when I took a seat in the stands, I figured I already had a pretty good idea of what we’d end up seeing on the stage.
I was a bit early, so I watched other students trickling in, trying to size up my competition. At least half the students had a glove on their right hands.
It was traditional for nobles to wear a glove until they had trusted retainers to protect them. The “passing of the glove” was a symbolic release of the wearer’s well-being into the hands of another, and often one of the most significant ceremonies in a noble’s life.
Usually, the glove would be passed to a single retainer who had served the owner for many years. It was a daring formalization of their connection, and some nobles — my father included — never offered their glove to anyone.
I’d always pictured giving my glove to Sera when we were old enough to be attuned. Now, she’d never be a simple retainer to me; she was family.
I’ll probably never find someone else to be my retainer.
It was a disappointing realization. I’d grown up on stories of the legendary bonds of loyalty between nobles and their retainers, and they’d settled in somewhere deep in my psyche. While many childhood ideals had eroded with the passage of time, the idea of having a retainer was rooted deeply enough in reality that it had dug in deep.
This way, at least, I’ll have to earn a retainer rather than being handed one. Maybe that’s for the best.
It felt a little better to think in those terms, and it helped to brush the line of thought from my mind. I turned back to observing the class.
Most of the prospective duelists had the same few attunements: Elementalists; Guardians; and Shapers. I noted a couple Summoners as well.
Summoners are going to be serious trouble until I can make some items… and probably even after that. An Elementalist might be able to handle two against one, but I don’t have any kind of battlefield control capabilities.
Sera must have come to the same conclusion. She arrived shortly after the other Summoners, two familiar figures trailing behind her. The first was Patrick, the same childhood friend I’d seen in my magic theory class. The second was Roland Royce, a son of two of my mother’s retainers.
Patrick had grown broad in the last few years. Not fat, just… thick, like a bear. With a build like his, I would have expected a Guardian attunement or something physically-focused, but he proudly wore an Elementalist mark on his exposed right hand.
Roland was as short as I remembered, and wearing his usual cold and determined expression. At a glance, I didn’t see his attunement mark, but I did see two dueling canes on his belt, one sitting on each side of his hips.
With each use of a cane painfully drawing mana from the wielder’s hands, it would require prodigious focus to use two of them accurately. I expected most people to laugh at Roland when they saw his setup.
Instead, I mentally added him to the top of my threats list. Anyone who underestimated him was going to be sorely disappointed.
If I had been born a few months earlier, Roland would have been one of my own retainers. It was traditional for the children of house retainers to become the retainers for the children of the succeeding line of the house. Since Roland was born before I was, though, he was assigned to Tristan’s service.
When Tristan disappeared, some families would have chosen to move Roland into the service of the next child in line… but my parents had never officially written Tristan off as dead.
Much like Sera, Roland’s parents served my mother, not my father. When my mother left, he too went along with them.
He was currently following Sera, just a couple feet behind and to the right.
That was how a retainer walked.
Either one of my parents had formally transferred Roland into Sera’s service — which would be a huge insult to me, as I was older than her — or he was making a statement of his own. Regardless, it certainly brought home my distinct lack of retainers.
They didn’t sit near me, which was… good. I wasn’t sure how I wanted to handle them just yet.
The starting time for the class came and went with no sign of the teacher. I heard murmuring amongst the students, some speculation that Lord Teft might not arrive at all.
It was a full fifteen minutes into the class when one of the students, a tall girl I didn’t recognize, let out a gasp and pointed at the stage.
“He’s ‘ere! Just watching what we do!”
I narrowed my eyes, looking at the spot she was indicating. It was almost imperceptible — a rippling distortion in the air, like a wave of heat. It was only with fierce concentration that I was able to discern the human shape.
The sound of slow applause from the stage accompanied Lord Teft’s appearance.
“Very good, Miss Callahan. A full ten minutes faster than anyone in the previous class noticed me.”
Lord Teft was handsome, the perfect image of a conventional gentleman, though unconventionally dressed. His suit was bright purple, the same color he’d worn on the stage. He leaned against a long wooden cane. Not a dueling cane, this one seemed ordinary. His blonde hair was meticulously cropped and his smile displayed immaculate teeth.
The students fell silent as he spoke. “Perception. This is the single most important characteristic for any prospective duelist. No amount of power, speed, or even finesse is sufficient to overwhelm an opponent who is sufficiently aware of your strengths and weaknesses.”
He turned toward the student who had identified him. “Miss Callahan, you were the first to notice me. How and why? You may stand to answer.”
She stood up, proving even taller than I had expected. She was at least my own height, if not taller. I might have imagined it, but I thought she was blushing a little bit. “Well, sir, I didn’t think you’d be leavin’ us alone on the first day. So, I just kept on lookin’ for you.”
“Good. You may sit.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Something seemed amiss, so she kept looking. Now, can anyone tell me what she did wrong?”
I frowned. Was he going to embarrass her further in front of our class?
Roland stood up.
“You.” The teacher pointed at Roland. “Go ahead.”
Roland gestured toward the girl. “She found something that resembled what she was looking for — a blur, an indication of invisibility — and stopped there.”
He folded his arms, turning back toward the stage. “But Shadows can manage things more complex than a single blur, and standing around invisible in the middle of a stage? That’s asking for attention. It’s misdirection. You’re somewhere else.”
Lord Teft grinned. “An interesting assessment. You are also wrong. I’m standing right here. I simply wanted to see if someone would fabricate a mistake when none was made, and you performed admirably. You may sit down.”
Roland’s expression as he sat was even more dour than usual. I could understand why.
Moreover, I was beginning to sense a theme in this teacher’s style. Now that I knew what to look for, I found the blur sitting in the back of stands almost immediately. I concentrated on details as much as possible… and it looked to be roughly the same height and weight as Teft. The clothes seemed to match as well.
Interesting.
Roland might have been wrong about the teacher being on the stage, but the core of his argument was right — the man standing on the stage was a form of misdirection.
Some duelists prided themselves on planning several moves ahead, much in the manner that strategists attempted to in war games. What move was Teft planning?
I saw Roland’s gaze shift just slightly, to the same spot I’d seen.
He’d seen the blur, too. He knew. And he saw me looking at him.
I nodded, lifting my left hand and quickly extending two fingers in the air. An old signal we’d used in war games: an alliance offered.
Roland’s eyes narrowed, but he returned the gesture.
The teacher folded an arm behind his back, raising his cane with his right hand and waving at the students. “I suppose most of you are here because you want to learn to fight, yes? No need to wait on that any further, I suppose. Any volunteers?”
I blinked. We’re going to start fighting now? None of us have had any training with our attunements yet. This is going to be a complete mess.
Which is probably what he’s looking forward to, I suspect.
I didn’t stand up. Most of the class did, however. Including Roland and Patrick.
Sera looked right at me, which was interesting. I hadn’t realized she’d seen me. She remained seated as well.
The teacher turned straight to Roland. “Eager to be embarrassed again immediately? What’s your name?”
Roland’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “Roland. Roland Royce.”
“Well, good sir Roland Roland — what an unusual name! — you can come stand up here. And…” He waved at another student, a thin boy with an Elementalist mark on his left hand and a glove on his right. “Master Kent, you can join us as well. The rest of you who volunteered, remain standing.”
Both students made their way to the stage, taking positions on opposite sides. Roland’s hands sat on the hilts of his two canes. “Master Kent” raised his attuned hand into a ready position, indicating he had at least some idea on how to use it.
“Oh, you’re not going to fight each other. That wouldn’t be interesting at all.” He smiled. “Outside of tournaments, most modern duels are not fought between two combatants who are equally eager. The overwhelming majority of duels are between one fighter who wants a duel and someone else who has no choice but to accept.”
The teacher turned to Kent. “Master Kent, you’re the son of a duke. When you inherit, you’ll be able to challenge virtually anyone outside of the royal family to a duel. Let’s assume you feel like showing off — not much of a stretch, I assume — and wanted to do so by beating someone in a duel. Who would you choose?”
The skinny boy scratched his head. “Um, well…” He scanned the crowd. “Can I pick someone who isn’t standing?”
The teacher grinned. “Of course.”
Kent turned his head, looking embarrassed. “Guess I’ve gotta pick Marissa Callahan, then.”
The girl who the teacher had called “Miss Callahan” earlier balled her fists, but remained silent and seated.
The teacher tilted his head to the side. “Why would you select Miss Callahan?”
Kent folded his arms. “Figure she already got ‘erself some points by finding you first. Gotta beat someone who already made an impression.”
It was a fair answer, but his defensive body language and tone told me that he wasn’t giving the whole answer. Interesting. Some history there? He’s got a similar accent, but it isn’t nearly as strong as Marissa’s.
“Interesting reasoning.” Lord Teft smiled. “Miss Callahan, will you please come to the stage? Roland Roland, you can step aside for the moment; you will not be participating in the first duel.”
Roland scowled, stepping off the stage. The teacher stepped back to the furthest point on the raised platform as Marissa reached the stairs, taking a position on the opposite side from Kent. I couldn’t see any exposed attunements on Marissa’s body, so I didn’t know what to expect from her. Kent seemed to know her personally, though, so maybe he was more prepared.
Lord Teft opened a compartment on the side of the stage, retrieving a large wooden box. After a few moments, he opened the top, reaching inside and raising a small metal disc. “Before we begin, I will need to check everyone’s shield sigils. If you’re still standing, you can sit down.”
He walked to Marissa and Kent, briefly putting a hand on their sigils and closing his eyes. “This shield sigil will be your best friend at the school. Currently, both of yours are fully charged, but I will recharge them between classes. Do not lose it. You will not like what happens if you lose it.”
As the combatants took positions on the stage, Teft walked among the rows of the class, checking every single student’s sigil to ensure it was on and fully charged. His jaw was set hard as he watched the students. His playful demeanor had temporarily vanished.
It made perfect sense. Even though there were presumably healers close by, it was tremendously dangerous to have inexperienced students trying to duel without any sort of protective gear. Our uniforms weren’t built like dueling tunics. They would offer minimal protection, if any, from magical attacks.
Lord Teft watched carefully as some of us adjusted the locations of our pins to his satisfaction, speaking as he returned to the stage. “If you use your sigil in class, see me or go to the Divinatory before your next class. For this month, you will have your shield sigil recharged by a teacher or a second year student, even if you think you are capable of recharging it yourself. I will not tolerate any accidents.”
He stepped to the back of the stage, and then turned to Marissa. “Since you are the recipient of the challenge, normally you would be able to refuse. If you wish to remain enrolled in this class, however, you must fight. Will you participate?”
Marissa nodded.
“Good. You may choose the conditions of the duel. Since your opponent is an Elementalist, I would recommend using only canes—”
“I think attunements will be fine.”
Both Kent and the teacher looked stymied by that. After a moment, Kent gave a deep belly laugh. “Your funeral.”
Marissa looked at the teacher. “Can we keep on fightin’ ‘til one of us gets a clean hit in, Lord Teft?”
I took a moment to process the question; her strong country accent was throwing me off. She and Kent were the first students I’d heard with accents like that, and hers was the thicker of the two. I’d seen other commoner students, but mostly merchants and such. Not a lot of people from outside of a major city could afford the cost of taking a Judgement.
What was her story?
Teft nodded in response to her question. “Oh, certainly. To be clear, I will ignore glancing blows and only call the match when one of you lands a solid attack?”
Marissa gave a slight bow. “If it’s all right by Master Kent, that is.”
Kent chuckled again. “’Tis fine with me. Means I won’t have to go easy on ye.”
She nodded silently, a look of intense focus crossing her features.
Teft stepped off the stage.
“Well, that’s settled, then. Begin!”
No preparation time?
I should have expected that, given the teacher’s prior behavior, but it still caught me off guard.
Kent, however, seemed more prepared. He reached with a gloved hand and pulled his cane off his belt, flicking a finger against the activation rune.
A burst of light surged from the cane, but Marissa was already moving. She pivoted to the right and leaned back, the movement causing the blast to miss her by mere inches. Her own cane was in her left hand a moment later.
Kent fired again, but Marissa merely stepped to the side, her eyes focused on her opponent with deadly intent.
A third shot, a forth. Each dodged with no sign of effort.
Marissa was half way across the stage when she raised her own cane for the first time.
The blast ripped across the stage in a moment. Kent attempted to twist out of the way, just as his opponent had, but he was too slow; the attack clipped his right arm. A flicker of sparks erupted as the mana shattered against his protective barrier.
Kent growled, tossing his cane aside and raising his attuned hand. “Was hopin’ to go easy on ye, Marissa, but yer not giving me much of a choice.”
Marissa continued to advance, eyes hard. “Yer not giving me much o’ one, either, m’lord.”
Kent raised his attuned hand and pointed it at Marissa, drawing in a breath before speaking. “Third Breath of the Tiger, I call you!”
A torrent of sparks manifested around Kent’s hand, flickering so brightly that I couldn’t look at them directly. He pointed two fingers directly at his approaching opponent, and then closed his eyes. “Violet Lightning!”
The voltaic charge was too fast for my eyes to follow, and it would have been far too fast for me to dodge. That was probably why Kent had chosen lightning. If Marissa was fighting based on dexterity, he had to choose something she couldn’t evade.
Marissa punched the lightning.
The crackling bolt deflected off her fist, flashing skyward and disappearing into the distance.
By the time Kent had opened his eyes, Marissa had closed the distance.
Her fist glowed brightly as she slammed it into Kent’s chest. The strike launched him back several feet and sent him tumbling to the ground. I winced — even with the barrier that had to hurt.
Lord Teft clapped once. “And that concludes our match.”
Marissa took a deep breath, shivering for just a moment, before returning to her chair.
Two other students rushed to Kent’s side, helping him stand.
I turned my gaze back toward Marissa, who was still breathing heavily in her chair, her forehead matted with sweat. My mind replayed the moment of her deflecting that blast of lightning.
Interesting. She didn’t even use the cane. She’s charging her bare hands with mana.
Lord Teft turned to address Kent. “That, Master Kent, is why an Elementalist should never willingly duel a Guardian without prior preparation.”
The teacher turned to Roland next. “Your turn. Let’s see if you’ve learned anything, hm?”
Roland stepped onto the stage, looking wary.
The teacher gestured at the audience. “Who would you select to duel?”
My former friend scanned the audience briefly before his eyes locked on me.
Oh, for the goddess’ sake—
“For me, Corin Cadence would be the ideal opponent.”
Chapter VII — Duel
Lord Teft gave Roland a toothy grin and turned toward me. His eyes widened briefly. “Is that… an Enchanting Attunement? Rhetorical question; of course it is. Why is an Enchanter in my dueling class?” He folded his arms. “That part was not a rhetorical question. Answer.”
Is he messing with me? He checked my shield sigil. How is it he’s just noticing my attunement now?
I stood up. “I intend to prepare a broad variety of enchanted items to assist with my dueling capabilities, sir.”
“Enchanters are never successful duelists, Master Cadence, and even your family name won’t change that. You can go find another class.”
I didn’t move.
After a few moments of staring at me, he added, “I mean right now, Cadence.”
I glanced around. Roland had an expression that looked almost apologetic, which was more emotion than I usually saw him display.
Sera was clenching her jaw tightly. She looked like she was about ready to stand up and say something, but I didn’t want to rely on her to protect me here.
My right hand tightened into a fist, but I tried not to sound as angry as I felt.
I’d known that Enchanters would be looked down on by some; my father was clear enough proof of that. Valia had a militaristic culture, and I knew that attunements without direct combat applications were generally considered inferior. But somehow, I’d gotten the misconception that teachers would be impartial. That idealism being shattered this soon hit me harder than I would have expected. “I’d like to be given a fair chance to demonstrate that my plan will work, sir.”
He shook his head, and then leaned against his cane. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you stay if you can last ten seconds.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Ten seconds?”
“Ten.” He counted, raising his cane and pointing it at me. It wasn’t a dueling cane, but it was glowing.
Oh, resh.
I managed to rise and throw myself out of the way just before a globe of light appeared and exploded nearby. I caught a glance at the globe-shaped section that was missing from the bench where I had been sitting and quickly decided I didn’t feel like taking a direct hit, barrier or not.
Most of the students around me froze. A few had the presence of mind to move, and one of them even screamed. None were being particularly helpful.
I ran for the nearest isle, drawing my dueling cane as I moved. I didn’t have enough room to unsheathe my sword.
I felt, rather than saw, the next globe appearing in front of me, and kicked myself backward. The blast caught another student and hurled him outside of the stands. I landed on my rear, barely managing to retain my grip on my cane, and turned to see the smirking teacher already pointing his cane toward me again.
“Nine,” he said.
That was a lot longer than one second, but he hadn’t been playing fair from the beginning.
Fine. Screw fairness.
“Roland, Sera, suppressing fire!”
I shouted it, my voice commanding, but I didn’t expect it to accomplish anything aside from a distraction.
As I rolled to my feet, I caught sight of Roland drawing both canes and opening fire on the teacher in an instant.
Lord Teft spun, an incredulous expression on his face, and deflected both blasts with his cane. It was clearly some sort of magical focus — an ordinary cane would have shattered from the impact, and even a dueling cane couldn’t deflect projectiles without an active blade.
Roland didn’t pause his assault, and as he continued to unleash his blasts, I heard Sera speaking in a clear tone.
“Child of the goddess, I call upon your aid.
Rain frost from the skies in a Permafrost Cascade!”
The skies darkened as her words echoed in the air.
Dozens of spears of ice manifested in the air above Lord Teft, hovering in place for an instant before descending with artillery force.
Holy goddess.
Teft stepped backward, dancing around the first spears as they impacted with the stage, and then waved a hand. A wall of flame manifested in between him and the spears, melting the remaining projectiles as they descended.
I had no idea how she’d just pulled that off, but I wasn’t going to complain. While the students and teacher were distracted, I ran straight out of the stands toward the rest of the school.
I’d barely cleared the isle when Lord Teft appeared in front of me.
To my credit, I raised my cane quickly, even as questions raced through my mind.
What? Did he just teleport? Or—
Teft’s cane began to glow. I fired a blast from my own cane directly at it, connecting with the gathering energy, triggering an explosion that hurled the teacher back.
He recovered almost instantly, shaking his cane in the air.
“Eight,” he said menacingly, raising the cane again.
You have got to be kidding me.
The logical part of my mind told me to run in the face of such overwhelming opposition, but I was done running.
Or, more accurately, I was done running away.
I charged him, running my finger across the rune that triggered a blade to emerge from the cane.
Behind me, near the stands, I could hear the sounds of more explosions, more combat. Distantly, I was aware that meant someone else was still fighting back there, but I didn’t have time to evaluate that in any detail.
Teft seemed ready for the move, raising his cane into a high Verasian guard, as if he was holding a saber. Considering the magic I’d seen him perform, I had to assume that a strike from the cane that connected would be just as dangerous as a real sword would be, if not more so. I couldn’t afford to take a hit from that.
When I was almost in reach, I pressed the button to charge the blade of my weapon, feeling a sharp pull as the mana slid through my hand. I threw it at him.
Teft didn’t look surprised by the move, but he also didn’t avoid it completely. The blade glanced across the left side of his coat, revealing a hexagonal barrier that deflected it harmlessly to the ground.
By the time he had recovered, I’d already drawn the sword from my belt. The cane had been a good ranged weapon, but it had poor melee reach. With the sword, I could match his range, and I expected that the frost enchantments would lend it force.
I smiled, assumed a Tyrian low dueling stance, and addressed the teacher. “Seven.”
His eyes narrowed.
I lunged.
Teft deflected my strike to the left, then followed up with a sweep at my legs. A typical maneuver. I stepped forward and right, avoiding the swing, and kicked him in the leg.
He stumbled back, some of the kinetic energy carrying through the shield. I swung the blade again, this time at a downward angle toward his chest.
I never saw the explosion that hit me from behind.
I was on my face a moment later, then rolling to my feet a moment after that, swinging my blade upward and deflecting a cane-swipe aimed at my head. The weapons rang as they met in the air, and I saw a hint of frost creep down the tip of his cane as I pressed against the swing.
Frowning, Teft stepped backward, waving his cane in the air as if to warm it. The frost continued to creep up the weapon as I stood, resuming my previous combat stance.
Teft waved a hand over the cane, bathing it in a burst of flame. The frost melted away, leaving a shimmering cloud in the air. “Interesting,” he mumbled, shaking his head.
I lunged again, but he was ready this time. He sidestepped, slamming his cane into my left shoulder. My barrier kicked in and absorbed some of the impact, but I still felt a sharp surge of agony. Apparently, these defensive devices only offered partial protection.
I staggered back at the blow, shaking my left hand in the air. “I think we’re at about negative fifty or so at this point.”
“I’ll call it five.” Teft beckoned to me with his cane. “Unless you can’t continue, of course.”
I shook my head. “I was really only worrying on your behalf. After all, it must be difficult to retain your concentration when you have so many things to distract you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And what do you mean by that, Cadence?”
“Defend yourself; I’ll explain while our weapons talk.”
I stepped forward, making a low swipe at his knees. He hopped over the slash, and then swung at my arm again. I parried this time, pressing against his cane, watching the vines of ice spread from my blade onto his weapon. I wasn’t certain if it was actually damaging his cane, but it certainly seemed to disturb my opponent, and that was enough.
As I expected, he stepped away hastily, once again bathing his cane in flame.
I struck again just as the flames dissipated. “I saw a second ‘invisible’ figure in the stands while you were talking earlier. You told Roland he was wrong, but his instincts were close to the mark.”
“Four. You believe I have an accomplice of some kind? Or that I’m not Lord Teft, perhaps?” He deflected my strike, but again, I was able to step forward and kick him before he could react. The attack didn’t connect very hard, but he frowned and stepped back nonetheless. “Three.”
“Not at all. The Teft I saw on the stage was easily able to dodge Sera’s spell and deflect Roland’s blasts — those were much faster than the kicks I’m landing right now. Or,” I said, “the trap you just stepped into.”
I jabbed at him. He stepped back, as expected, and stumbled as he stepped right on top of the still-energized blade of my dueling cane. I saw his barrier crackle as the mana charged in the weapon lashed against it.
He stepped to the side and kicked the cane’s hilt, sending it flying at me, but I was able to easily step out of the way. “You’re slower here because you’re dividing your attention. One of you is a projection. A simulacrum. And that,” I concluded, sidestepping and making a vicious lunge at his chest, “is why you’re too slow to win.”
He caught my blade in his hand.
“Two. You’re right and wrong, Corin.” He slammed his cane into my chest, knocking me back, and I lost my grip on my weapon as I fell backward. Dropping my blade, he followed me as I recoiled, putting his cane on my neck. “I am a simulacrum, but I’m not slower than the real Teft. I’m autonomous.” His eyes gleamed. “I was letting you hit me.”
I grabbed his cane with my left hand, but my grip was still weak from his earlier strike, and he quickly pulled it out of my grasp.
“Do you have any other insights to share before we end this?” He raised his cane, a crimson glow forming around the weapon.
I gave him the most serious look I could muster. “Just one. No, zero, actually.”
He rolled his eyes, pulling the cane away and lowering it to the ground. “Yes, yes, you’ve lasted your ten seconds. Very well, Corin Cadence. I suppose you can stay.”
“Thanks, magical construct.”
Teft shook his head. “Don’t get too snide, boy. You’re the one who just got beaten by a fake.”
And with that, the duplicate Teft vanished, and I picked up my weapons to rejoin the class.
* * *
The real Teft was wearing a cocky expression, leaning against his cane, when I made it back to where I’d been sitting. Which was, of course, still ruined.
I chose to stand rather than sit in the crater.
Sera and Roland were still standing, too. Roland had returned to where he’d originally been seated.
Lord Teft made a dismissive wave with his left hand. “You can be seated now, children.”
I folded my arms, glanced at the destroyed spot, and then back to him. Sera and Roland sat down, though.
“Close enough. Interesting tactic, Master Cadence, and admittedly not one I would have anticipated. Obviously, calling in outside help would be illegal in a duel, but I didn’t say it was a duel, so I won’t penalize you for it. Your performance was adequate.” He glanced at Sera and Roland. “And the loyalty of your friends somewhat surprising. I could have them expelled for attacking a teacher without permission.”
Roland bristled at that comment, but Teft continued talking. “This is, in fact, why they will be rewarded. In a battle, that sort of unflinching loyalty is a rare and valuable resource. Of course, you’ll need to ensure that you’re being loyal to the right people. Ten points to the two students who responded to Master Cadence’s call. Fifteen for the other gentleman,” he looked at Patrick, “who assisted them without Master Cadence’s prompting.”
Patrick joined the fight? I hadn’t seen that happen; it must have been while I was outside of the class area fighting the double.
I felt a moment of guilt for not including Patrick when I’d called for help. Still, I hadn’t known what his capabilities were, or that he would have helped. It seemed I’d underestimated him.
I looked at Patrick and sent him a gesture of thanks. He nodded in reply.
Teft continued speaking, beginning to pace around the stage. “I suppose most of you were focusing on the show on the stage. I’d like a student who wasn’t involved in that little contest to summarize for the other students what happened to Master Cadence after he fled the stands. Anyone?”
Kent stood up.
“My, volunteering again, Master Kent? Very well, explain.”
Kent stood, gesturing to the area where I’d been fighting. “He was fightin’ a copy of you over there. A simulacrum, I think… one of the Shaper spells?”
The teacher nodded. “Close enough. Simulacra will be the subject of today’s lesson.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. Given Teft’s behavior, I wasn’t aware this “class” was going to have lessons.
Teft paused his pacing, coming to the center of the stage. “A simulacrum is a copy of a living being that is constructed from mana. As Master Kent pointed out, creating a simulacrum is one of the most advanced abilities of the Shaper Attunement. While Shapers are typically associated with creating and controlling spectral weapons, armor, and other objects, the simulacrum spell is far more versatile. It will be many years before any of you is capable of constructing one, of course, but you should be aware of their existence for three main reasons. Would anyone like to speculate on these reasons? Not you, Master Kent.”
I was already standing, so I simply raised a hand.
“Oh, sure, let’s have you give it a try, Master Cadence.”
I lowered my hand. “They’re legal in virtually all forms of duels, and the flexibility they provide makes Shapers the most dominant attunement in most of these scenarios.”
“Close enough. What about the other two reasons?”
I scratched my chin. “You said earlier that perception was important. You were deliberately misleading us so that we didn’t notice the simulacrum.”
“An accurate assessment, but not related to the question I’m asking. We’ll call that one out of three. Anyone else?”
A student I didn’t recognize stood up. He was dark skinned, heavyset, and wore thick spectacles.
“You,” Lord Teft gestured at the student. “Ah, an actual Shaper wants to answer a question about Shapers. Miracle of miracles. I don’t recognize you. Give me your name and answer.”
“Matthew Kord, sir. And, uh, I think what you’re looking for, or one of the things, is that, um, monsters in the towers are usually simulacra?”
“Good, good. Not precisely accurate, but close enough to count.”
I was taken a bit aback. I’d never heard anything like that.
Teft continued his explanation. “Ever wonder why monsters in the tower vanish when slain, often leaving behind crystalline mana? And how there always seem to be more monsters, regardless of how many climbers go through the tower? That’s because they are not, for the most part, actually monsters at all — not in the conventional sense. Modern studies have concluded that the majority of monsters encountered in the towers are mana constructs. They’re not exactly simulacra, in that we don’t believe they’re copies of a single core monster that’s actually alive somewhere. Probably. They are, however, functionally similar.”
He paused for a breath, and then continued. “This is part of your first lesson because I want you to understand the significance of it. Simulacrum spells, when utilized to the highest degree of efficiency, can populate something on the scale of an entire tower with duplicates. The military applications of this are obvious, but consider how it could be utilized to improve society if we could harness the same source of mana that the towers themselves utilize. Mana constructs could be used to replace virtually all labor. This is, for many Shapers, something of a goal.”
He waved at the student. “Now, the third reason they’re important?”
Kord shook his head. “I, uh, don’t know what you’re thinking of, sir. Low risk infiltration, maybe?”
Lord Teft sighed. “There is potential in that line of thought, if further refined, but a traditional simulacrum spell has only a short duration. They continuously drain mana from the caster. Several kinds of mana, in fact: mental mana; life mana; and general mana.” His lecturing tone had a sharp cadence to it.
“That makes them prohibitively expensive to use for a long duration. This is why we’d love to crack how the tower creates constructs that seem to last indefinitely. Suffice to say that simulacra aren’t useless for infiltration, but not as useful as they could be. Anyone else?”
No one else spoke up.
Teft shrugged a shoulder. “Well, class is dismissed, then.”
Most students glanced around nervously for a moment, uncertain.
Seriously? He’s not going to tell us the third application?
…I suppose he’ll probably ambush us again with the same question later to see if we’ve figured it out.
I shook my head as the students made their way out of the stands. I followed with the crowd, retrieved my weapons, and then headed back toward my room.
It didn’t take long for Sera to catch up to me, with Roland and Patrick still following close behind her. “You got yourself into quite a mess today.”
I glanced at Roland. “I think it would be more accurate to say that Roland got me into a mess, but you both helped get me back out of it, so I’ll call it even.”
Patrick laughed. “Oh, man, you should have seen your face when that orb exploded behind you.”
I laughed in spite of not finding it particularly funny. “Yeah? Oh, and it’s good to see you, Patrick, it’s been too long.”
That was at least partially true.
“Yeah, been a while! You seem pretty much the same, though.”
I nodded. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Roland’s contribution was almost a whisper. “Your mother misses you.”
I blinked as my mental landscape shifted.
Mother.
How long had it been since I’d even written to her?
I was a terrible son, wasn’t I?
My expression flickered, and I turned my head. “Thanks. I miss her, too. You still living with House Lyran?”
House Lyran was my mother’s house. Unlike in some cultures, married nobles in Valia generally retained their original house name as their surname. My mother, Laura Lyran, was no exception.
Roland nodded. From his expression, that looked like the end of the conversation for him, which was fine by me.
Sera frowned at me. “You look pretty rough. You want to go get something to eat?”
I looked at my two old friends, at Sera, and at the still-devastated stands. I was bone tired, but that fight had shown me something significant. Something I’d known before intellectually, but that I hadn’t really internalized.
I wouldn’t have lasted ten seconds without help. Not even ten real seconds, if the teacher had been playing fair.
If I wanted to survive the rest of the year, I needed to be a little more open to the idea of having other people in my life.
And so, I fought down the nervousness and fear that still lingered in my veins and said, “Okay.”
* * *
My right hand was twitching as I set my tray down on the table in the dining hall. I didn’t know if it was because I was nervous or just a side effect of the mana that was syphoned from my hand each time I’d used the dueling cane. Most likely, it was a combination of both.
Sera sat down next to me, which made things a little easier than if I’d been stuck sitting in close proximity to Roland or Patrick. I’d never had a problem with something that minor when I was younger, but a couple years had made me anxious that I wouldn’t live up to anyone’s expectations.
While I poked awkwardly at my food, Patrick leaned across the table toward me. “That was amazing back there. Do you think we’re going to get to fight in every class?”
I blinked. Goddess, I hope not.
I’d been practicing dueling since I was old enough to hold a cane (and younger than it was strictly legal). The “fight” we’d just engaged in was not something I was particularly interested in repeating. I didn’t like being an object for his lessons.
I shook my head. “We’ll get more chances to duel, I’m sure, but he wanted to make the first day flashy to leave an impression.”
Sera gave a snort of a laugh. “If we wanted to leave the ‘impression’ that he’s a dangerous narcissist, he succeeded at that.”
“I warned you.” Roland folded his arms, looking to Patrick, then to Sera. “He has a reputation for these kinds of… grandiose actions.”
Patrick grinned. “I thought it was amazing. How often do you get to see magic on that scale? I mean, there was that one time when Lady Lyran—”
Sera cut him off with a sharp gesture. “We all remember Lady Lyran’s duels, Patrick.”
Did I sense a hint of bitterness there? What was that about?
I supposed Lady Lyran being my mother and not her mother probably had something to do with it. If Sera was my half-sister… did Mother treat Sera badly? I’d never seen anything like that, but it wasn’t impossible. Especially for the last few years, while we’d been far apart.
I wanted to ask about it, but this wasn’t the place or the time.
Instead, I turned my head to Sera to ask her something different. “What was that spell you cast? I knew you told me that Summoners could draw power from monsters… Is that what that was?”
Patrick nodded vehemently. “Yeah, that was amazing, Sera! That must have been, what, like a rank two or three spell?”
Rank two or three?
I hadn’t studied much about magical classifications yet. I knew spells varied in power, of course, and giving them some kind of number designation made sense for an academic setting. Still, I didn’t ever remember hearing that term used.
How much had I missed in the last few years of school?
“Four, actually.” Sera smirked. Patrick’s eyes widened in awe. Sera turned back toward me. “And to answer your question, Corin, yes. I was drawing from a specific contract to cast that spell. I don’t need to summon the monster itself to do that. Summoning monsters directly is rare and dangerous.”
My brows knit together at that. “I’ve seen plenty of monsters summoned in duels, though.”
“Those are almost always figments, not the original monster,” she explained.
“Figments?” I really hoped I wasn’t the only one behind on these facts. “What are those, Summoner equivalents of simulacra?”
“Almost.” At least she didn’t seem to look down on me for asking. “Figments are more varied. You’ll often see ones that are smaller than the original monster, for example, but cost very little mana to maintain. I could make several of those at once, and make each of them slightly different. Maybe make one monster quick, another more resilient, or that sort of thing.”
“That sounds pretty useful,” I noted. “Can you make something stronger than the original monster?”
She gave a thoughtful, “Hmm,” before answering. “Probably? I suppose that depends on the monster.”
Roland narrowed his eyes. “How are you casting rank four spells? Most graduates can’t do that.”
Sera steepled her fingers. “I’ve got my ways.”
Typical Sera.
When it became obvious that she was not going to answer, Patrick’s attention turned to me. “Sooo… Corin,” he said, faux-casually. “How’d you get that ice sword?”
I reached down and ran my hand across the grip of the sword self-consciously. “I had it with me when I left the tower.”
“That’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it!” He seemed to have forgotten to downplay his excitement, and his voice was enthused. “I’ve always wanted a magic sword.”
I felt myself smiling in spite of my reservations. Patrick’s energy was a little overwhelming, but he was so earnest that I couldn’t stay irritated. “Yeah, it’s pretty great. Only reason I managed to hold my own back there. Once I figure out how it works, maybe I’ll let you use it sometime.”
He made high-pitched sound. “I would love that. Thanks, Corin.”
I nodded, going back to focusing on eating. We spent most of the rest of the meal exchanging small talk, catching up a bit on the years we’d spent apart.
All things considered, it wasn’t a bad way to spend a meal.
Chapter VIII — Training Courses
The next couple days went relatively smoothly by comparison. No other teachers threatened to annihilate me with overwhelming magic — just overwhelming homework.
I had a lot of reading to do.
I also had to get my mana ratios tested at the Divinatory. I got around to that on Kyrsday night, just before the deadline. The results weren’t quite what I expected.
From the Diviner’s frown, they probably weren’t what he’d expected, either. I’d been sent to a second year student for my measurements; there weren’t any teachers working at the hour I’d arrived. He was tall and thin, with thick spectacles and probing blue eyes.
“You’ve got one of the worst mana balances I’ve ever seen.” He scribbled notes in his book, sighing. “Give me your right hand again, I’ll double check it.”
I offered him my hand, frowning.
“My mind seeks the truth within. Give me sight of his strength.”
The Diviner finished his incantation, pulling away from my hand. “Looks like I was right the first time. Hm.” He shrugged. “Nothing for it, then. You’re going to have a hard time being an Enchanter.”
I frowned at that. “What do you mean?”
He pointed at my right hand. “You’ve got C-ranked mana in your sword hand, which is good for your first week. That’s what you’re expected to have in your attunement location. Unfortunately, that’s not where your attunement is, and it’s the wrong type of mana.” He pointed at my forehead. “You’re Rank D in your actual attunement spot. That’s not great; you should have at least Rank C there. And a mark on the forehead isn’t great for enchanting in general. You’re probably going to have a tough time getting started.”
My frown deepened. “Can’t I just use the mana from my sword hand?”
“You’ll develop scarring. You’ve been overusing it already, and probably for a long time.”
That didn’t sound good. “Scarring? What do you mean?”
He rubbed his forehead. “Did no one explain how to properly use — never mind. Of course not. Okay, listen. This is important. If you use too much mana from a particular part of your body, you can hurt yourself. Do that without giving yourself time to recover and you end up with mana scars. Permanent damage to the flow of mana in your body. You’re already very close to developing some in your right hand.”
Undoubtedly from training with the dueling cane. Thanks, Dad. Really great parenting there.
“I’ve been using mana for a long time, yeah.” I closed my eyes for a moment. “What’s the problem with these scars? You talked about hurting my mana flow, but what effect would that have?”
“Slows down your ability to recover mana from that spot and makes it harder to convert.” His response was immediate. “They can also make it harder to get stronger. Everyone here is expected to exercise to increase their mana levels. That’s going to be tougher for you if you get scars. Your attunement naturally regulates the mana in that location, so it’s safer to use that mana repeatedly without hurting yourself.”
Ugh. Perfect.
“All right. I’ll be careful not to push it too much. Anything I can do if I end up with scarring?”
“Mmm, some powerful Menders can fix that, but I doubt you can afford the cost. And it doesn’t always work. You’re best off just trying to avoid dealing yourself more damage — which means staying well below your safe mana use thresholds.” His tone indicated I’d best heed the advice.
He scratched a few more things down, then tore off a page from his notebook. “Here. Your safe mana limits for each mana point on your body. Just keep in mind that for your hand, you could cause yourself damage just by using it too frequently.”
I nodded in thanks, scanning the page and heading out.
18 Mind Mana. (Rank D.)
24 Right Hand Mana. (Rank C.)
16 Left Hand Mana. (Rank D.)
10 Right Leg Mana. (Rank E.)
10 Left Leg Mana. (Rank E.)
8 Heart Mana. (Rank E.)
6 Lung Mana. (Rank E.)
He’s right, that’s not a great list. I’m going to need a lot of practice.
On the positive side, having a good supply of mana in my right hand meant that I was in good shape if I ever did earn a second attunement that was more battle oriented. It sounded like that would help prevent the scarring issue, too. With luck, I could pull that off by the end of the year. With a little less luck, the second year.
Less luck than that, I’d overuse my current attunement and end up dead.
That was a sobering thought. I made my way home, and then drifted off while thinking about rune designs.
* * *
The next Magic Theory class was pretty basic stuff, and the Physical Combat class was mostly focused on stretches and footwork. We all had mandatory physical training three times a week on top of the combat class. Even if this wasn’t as strict as a true military academy, we were expected to be in reasonable enough shape to survive military training after we left.
Introductory Runes proved less exciting than I’d hoped. The teacher just summarized what I’d already read in the beginning of the book. It was with a feeling of dejection that I headed into The Art of Artifice afterward.
“Your runes class is useless.”
I blinked at that, focusing on the teacher. She was a short, thick, older woman with the same olive skin coloring most of the students had and dark, graying hair. She could have been anyone’s grandmother.
She leaned heavily on the lectern, sounding exasperated. “If you’re here, that means you’ve decided to commit to some actual enchanting. Not the kind of useless garbage they’re teaching in the standard curriculum. Good for you for taking the initiative. This will be your hardest class. If you’re not interested in being a real Enchanter, leave now. I won’t give you a second chance.”
There were only a few dozen of us in the class. No one left.
“Not leaving? Good. You’re probably just afraid to be the first one to walk out, but that’s good. Fear can be useful. But not as useful as studying.”
She tapped a finger on the table. “Write this down. Elements of Enchanting, volumes one through six. Volatile Runes, by Fairway. Constructing Ritual Matrices, by Conway. And,” she sighed, “Monster Hunting for Amateur Adventurers, by Hawthorne. A book I am loathe to require, but one that sadly proves more accurate than any of the more ‘scholarly’ tomes on the subject.”
“You will read — nay, study —” she actually said nay? I aspired to that level of pretension, “the contents of each and every one of these books before the end of the year, starting with the Elements of Enchanting series. If you’re wondering why there’s a book on monster hunting, you’re already behind, but I’ll be merciful for this last time. Monsters are the single most important source of enchanting materials. If you want to be an Enchanter, you’re going to need to learn about how to find and harvest monster cores, even if you don’t actually do the hunting yourself.”
One of the students stood, indicating she had had a question. The teacher ignored her.
“I’m Professor Vellum. That’s a type of parchment, for those of you who aren’t quite literate yet. Remember that.” She shot an annoyed look at the student who was standing. The student withered beneath her gaze and sat down.
“Now, I’m sure your runes teacher taught you a few things about scratching pretty shapes into things. What she didn’t teach you, I’ll wager, is that those basic enchantments just trap enough mana in an item for a single use. A single use! Whoever would want to make a magical item that can only be used once? It’s horrifically inefficient. And yet, that’s the only thing you would ever learn in the standard curriculum.” She spat out the last two words like they tasted of venom.
“I’m going to teach you children how to work real magic. If you survive this class, you will forge objects of power that will last beyond your lifetimes.” She shot a withering look at a student whose eyes were shining. “No, they won’t be objects of myth and legend — don’t let your dreams get too far ahead of you.” The student deflated, and there were a few snickers.
“Now, who would like to see a bit of magic happen?”
* * *
I went home that night with a feeling I hadn’t experienced in what felt like years.
Excitement, mingled with hope.
Professor Vellum was as elitist as Teft in her own way. She’d already punished a few students who hadn’t been paying sufficient attention. But she was going to teach me how to apply my attunement in ways that were useful, and for that I was deeply grateful.
The downside?
It turned out permanent enchantments were expensive.
I ruminated over the details of the lesson.
“Monster cores — those are the glimmering little bits you find when you kill a monster, if you haven’t managed to do something that basic yet — are the purest sources of mana you’re going to come by, aside from disenchanting an existing item. If you want a permanent item, you’re going to need at least three types.”
Vellum held up a finger. “The first is the only one your other teacher is going to tell you about. You’ll need a core for the basic enchantment itself, obviously. Fire core for a fire rune, that sort of thing. Alternatively, you can get someone with the appropriate attunement to power the rune for you if they’re strong enough, and know how to put the exact spell into the rune. I never do this, because people are terrible.”
She held up a second finger. “Second, and one of the first hints of secret knowledge you’ll learn here. You need a second rune and a second core to make the item recharge itself. There are a few varieties of these that tell the item to draw power from different sources to recharge itself. The most common ones draw mana from the wielder.”
Vellum lifted her gaze to the ceiling. “Obviously, these are terrible, and you should never use them. They are, predictably, also the most common.” She looked back at us, expression sharp. “People are terrible, and also stupid.”
She held up a third finger. “The third rune is the most important. It tells the item to stop gathering mana when it’s full. If you forget this rune, or make a mistake on it, your item will eventually explode.” There was a pause as she let this sink in. “As you might expect, since people are both terrible and stupid, many of my students make mistakes on this third rune.”
Vellum took a breath, then let it out. “Typically, these mistakes only result in lost fingers, but there have been a few students who have been more seriously injured. This is unfortunate, because checking if a rune is working properly requires a trivial amount of effort. Simply bring the item to the Divinatory, and they can cast a basic spell to check the rune. Of my students, more than half fail to take this basic precaution, because people are terrible, stupid, and also lazy.”
She folded her arms, leaning against the table. “I mention this lesson every year, and every year, I am disappointed. Nevertheless, in my weakness, I retain some hope that this class will be the one class to finally demonstrate a degree of basic competence. I look forward to being disappointed once again.”
Straightening, she lifted her hands, pressing her palms together beneath her chin. “Now, let’s talk about the types of cores you’ll need…”
I took extensive notes throughout her entire lesson. Oddly, I think her vitriolic sense of humor helped me to focus.
Unfortunately, the cores she was talking about for making permanent items? They’d cost about ten times more coin than I had on hand, just to make a single basic magical item.
We’d get some materials from the academy as a part of the class if I lasted that long. Not a lot, but enough to meet the basic requirements. Barely.
I wasn’t satisfied with that.
I wanted to get to making permanent items as quickly as possible, and that meant either finding a source of income or a direct source for cores.
I was contemplating that, getting ready to sleep, when I heard a creaking sound come from my doorway.
It took less than another second before the board that was nailed over the door split in half and my door flew wide open.
A tall, hooded figure dressed in all black was standing in my doorway. A wickedly curved knife was in their right hand.
My first thought was, “Why is there an assassin in my doorway?”
Quickly followed by, “Ohreshassassinquicklyduelingcane.”
I’d been warned to be prepared for threats, so I had my dueling cane within reach. I reached. I knocked it on the floor.
Welp, life over.
I’d like to say it’s been fun.
The figure took a second to look around the room before advancing. That bought me a precious moment to reach down and grab the fallen cane, flip it around, and fire two shots into the intruder’s chest.
No effect at all. The mana dispersed across the surface of the intruder’s tunic, shimmering as it spread. It wasn’t an effect I’d seen before, not a traditional barrier. A dueling tunic would have taken damage from the blast. This thing was more resilient.
The intruder lunged.
I rolled out of the bed, firing another blast — but not at the intruder.
This one hit the ceiling, pounding a hole through layers of wood into the room above. It wouldn’t have enough force to hurt anyone up there… I hoped… but it was sure to get their attention.
If anyone was up there.
My “evasive roll” turned out to be more of a “wrap myself in a bedsheet and fall on the floor” roll. It still served the purpose of getting me out of the way of the daggers for a second, but ultimately I was in a worse position afterward. In the second that it took to disentangle myself from the sheet, the intruder was above me, bringing a dagger down toward my shoulder.
The dagger glanced off a barrier, generated by the shield sigil pinned to my nightshirt.
Yeah, I slept with that on.
I punched the assassin in the face.
The intruder recoiled from the blow, giving me enough time to kick at their legs, but my angle was bad and the impact was minimal.
Another dagger strike came down, but this time I rolled right. The dagger splintered the floor, and I pushed myself to a crouch.
A kick hit me in the face.
The barrier soaked some of it, but I still fell backward, hitting my head against the nearest wall. That hurt, and my vision swam.
I ducked the next kick, which smashed a chunk out of the wall above where my head had been. Blearily, I noted that ordinary kicks shouldn’t have that amount of force.
I switched tactics, running my hand along the other rune on the hilt of my cane. A short blade popped out of the hilt, and when the next kick came in, I lashed at the offending leg. I missed, but the attacker retreated a step.
I stood up.
The intruder ducked, taking a lower stance, reversing their grip on the knife. It wasn’t a stance I was familiar with. To be fair, though, there weren’t any knife fighting stances I was familiar with. I’d never learned to knife fight.
Apparently, they had.
My odds were bad.
I yelled for help.
The intruder glanced toward the door, hissed, and then lunged forward, making a sweeping cut toward my face. I blocked it with my own blade, kicking afterward, but meeting only air.
The intruder stepped back, reaching into a pouch.
I flicked the other rune, feeling a sharp sensation of pain as mana surged through my hand, igniting the dueling cane’s blade.
The intruder threw something from the pouch — a potion — right at me.
I caught it with my off-hand and threw it back.
I could see their eyes widen even with their cowl in place. I smirked.
My smirk was short-lived.
The intruder vanished from where they had been standing, appearing right in front of me.
The potion hit the of my room near the door, but didn’t break like I’d expected.
Then there was a knife at my throat.
“Don’t move.”
The voice wasn’t coming from the intruder.
It was coming from Jin, standing in the doorway, with a revolver pointed at my assailant.
The invader laughed. “Not bad. I expected the rune I drew outside to block any shouting for help, but I didn’t expect you to shoot the ceiling.” A woman’s voice, and oddly familiar.
The knife pressed closer against my neck, then pulled away.
The intruder dropped the weapon.
Jin narrowed his eyes. “Slowly raise your hands. Do not speak again.”
The intruder complied, at least at first.
“Step away from the student.” Jin stepped closer as he spoke, continuing to keep the firearm leveled at the target.
The intruder complied, stepping away until she had her back against the opposite wall.
Jin put himself in between the invader and myself. I took the moment to grab my sword from the nearby table, drawing it from its sheath, and passed my dueling cane to my opposite hand.
“We will wait here until assistance arrives. Do not move.” Jin kept the revolver leveled at her chest.
“That won’t be necessary,” she replied. “Your demonstration was satisfactory. End illusion.”
The cowl and hood vanished.
We were looking at Professor Orden.
I groaned.
“You have got to be kidding me.” I stepped closer, brandishing my sword. “You were testing me?”
She nodded and smiled. “I did warn you to prepare.”
Jin didn’t take his eyes off her. “Corin, can you confirm that this was a test that Professor Orden warned you about in advance?”
“In a sense.” If you stretched the concept of “sense”, anyway. “She told me to protect my room against potential threats. She did not tell me that she planned to test them personally. And, since our friend here is clearly a Shadow or some other kind of illusionist, she could be anyone. ‘End illusion’ could be a key phrase to cast an illusion.”
“True,” the woman admitted. “How could I convince you that I am Professor Orden, then?”
My mouth twisted. “You couldn’t, under these circumstances. At all. I could ask you what I discussed privately with Professor Orden, but if you’re an assassin who is after me, you could have gathered that information through other means. You could have been watching, or you could have captured or killed the real Orden and taken information from her.”
“My, you’re a suspicious one. I like that. Perhaps a demonst—”
Jin fired the revolver.
The bullet hit right next to her head.
“No demonstrations.” Jin gestured with the revolver, while I closed to threatening range with my sword. “Out. I will not miss again.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You students are getting dangerously close to offending me.”
Jin tightened his jaw. “Good. You have already offended us.”
“Cadence,” she hissed, “I will expect to see you in the morning for a discussion.”
I waved with the flat of my sword, and she followed the gesture, backing out to the room. “I’ll plan to meet Professor Orden at her office. If you happen to be the one there, we’ll discuss how you can authenticate your identity.”
“I will be there.” She snapped her fingers and vanished in a jet of smoke.
“Huh.” I examined the smoke. “I thought that only theatrical villains did that.”
Jin reached down, picking up the fallen potion vial. “Evidently, that woman is a theatrical villain.”
I nodded sagely, then grew serious again. “Thanks for backing me up. I owe you one.”
“No,” he countered, “you owe me two.” He pointed upward. “One is for the repair of my floor.”
* * *
Jin and I headed toward Tortoise Female Building #14.
We’d mutually decided that staying in our own rooms was too dangerous, in case real assassins were after me. Jin had suggested going to the academy guard, but I wasn’t confident that pointing them at Orden or asking them to watch our rooms were good ideas. I needed more information before I could bring more strangers into the situation.
While I’d gotten dressed, Jin had gone back to his room for more ammunition. By the time he’d gotten back, I had my dueling cane and sword buckled on. I’d also grabbed a pillow.
“First favor, Corin. Tell me why you are hunted by assassins.”
I sighed. “I’m probably not. I think that was the real Orden, and she’s probably paranoid.”
“Evasive answers don’t count as favors.”
He was right, but… “Can I have a minute to think about how best to answer?”
“Of course.”
I took a minute to think, and another minute.
Jin helped me out, but I don’t know if telling him anything is wise — that Voice was pretty explicit that I shouldn’t be spreading word about what happened in the tower.
On the other hand, if that was the real Professor Orden, I absolutely can’t trust her if her idea of “testing my defenses” is a mock attack on my room.
What is it with these professors and attacking students?
Gah.
“Okay, I’m going to tell you some bits and pieces, but you’re going to be in danger if you learn too much.”
“I don’t mind a bit of danger.”
I shook my head. “It wouldn’t be ‘a bit’. Probably. I don’t really know the scale of what I’m dealing with yet, and that’s part of why I can’t, in good conscience, fill you in on every detail.”
Jin nodded. “Continue.”
“I saw some things at the tower that I probably shouldn’t have seen. Things I remembered, and told Professor Orden about. She told me that what I knew could put me in danger, and to prepare.”
“Explains the assault, even if it doesn’t justify it.”
“Yeah. I suppose she wants me to take protecting myself seriously.”
Jin gestured to me with his off hand. “You did as well as I’d expect anyone to.”
I think I might have blushed at the compliment. I wasn’t used to getting those.
“Uh, thanks, I guess. Anyway, I can’t say much else for now, but I’ll talk to Professor Orden in the morning and see if I can get permission to bring you in on things.”
“Permission?” He raised an eyebrow. “Really, with her behavior, you would leave her to make that decision?”
I sighed. “I was feeling pretty hot blooded back there, but in retrospect, I really don’t have the experience that she does to make decisions about this sort of thing. Frankly, we should probably be glad we’re not being thrown in prison for assaulting a teacher.”
“She invaded your room. There would be no grounds for such a thing.”
I rolled my eyes. “Professors have a lot of influence. If she claimed she was there for routine business and we attacked her, the courts would probably take her side. But that’s not her angle. If that was her, and it almost certainly was, her motivation was to test me and scare me. Both worked. Mission accomplished.”
“What convinced you that it’s really her?”
“Simplest answer, really. She’s the only one who has actually mentioned any threat toward me. I’ve seen no evidence of anyone knowing about my experiences in the tower aside from her. I haven’t told anyone else.”
After I said that, I realized it wasn’t strictly true. The Voice had also mentioned potential danger. And anyone who had seen me in the tower — Keras, Vera, or even Katashi — could have sent assassins after me. I just didn’t think most of them had any motivation to.
Orden had mentioned that Katashi might send agents to get rid of me. That was plausible, and it was a scenario worth considering and preparing for. But if they thought I was a big enough threat to warrant attention, I strongly suspected they would have found a more effective way to get rid of me than sending one person with a knife.
This particular attack was much more likely to be the real Orden running a test, but that didn’t mean I was free from actual danger. If anything, it meant Orden thought the danger was severe enough that she wanted me to take it seriously.
“Hm,” Jin replied helpfully.
We arrived at the dorm shortly thereafter. Much like mine, the building was three stories, and the doors to the rooms were external, which meant that we didn’t have to bypass any dorm guards. Jin holstered his revolver on his hip.
We walked up the stairs, and I knocked on Sera’s door.
It took a minute before she opened it, wearing a nightgown. Her hair was disheveled.
Jin’s eyes widened, then he glanced away. He looked a little embarrassed.
Sera’s eyes did the opposite. She folded her arms. “When I asked the goddess to send me two men in the middle of the night, this was not what I what I meant.”
I completed the eye-motion theatrics by rolling mine once more. “Can we come in?”
She sighed, waving us in. “Fine. You must be positively desperate if you’re here.”
I…I wasn’t that bad about visiting her without an agenda, was I?
Yeah, I definitely was. I’d have to get better about that.
We followed her inside the room, which was the same size as mine. She sat on her bed, staring at me. Jin was pointedly looking away from her.
I closed the door behind us.
“We need a place to stay for the night.”
Sera tilted her head down. “You’re joking.”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“Assassins.”
She leaned forward. “Assassins,” she echoed, deadpan.
“You caught me.” I flicked my hand dismissively, looking upward with exaggerated irritation. “It was only one assassin.”
“She was very skilled,” Jin added.
“You two,” Sera said, rubbing the bridge of her nose, “can spoon on the floor.”
I leaned against the back wall. “I was kind of hoping you could put Jin in a room with one of your friends.”
Jin gave me a look that contained more horror than I knew he could express.
“Problem?”
Jin’s shivered and looked away. “I… It would not be appropriate for me to stay in this place.”
If he had somewhere else to say, he hadn’t mentioned it.
“Aww, don’t be shy.” I blame Sera for bringing out my urge to tease. Poor Jin was collateral damage in our normal dynamic. He deserved better, so I could at least reassure him. “I think the dorm rules are superseded by the destruction of our rooms.”
Sera raised her eyebrows at that. “Wait, what?”
“Long story. Anyway, can you find him a spot?”
Sera sighed and stood. “Your friend — who, you know, you should introduce me to — can stay with my lovely and nubile friend Patrick, in the nearby boys dorms.”
Jin breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
I chuckled. Most guys would have killed for a chance to have an excuse to be here.
“This,” I gestured, “Is Jin. He’s… Actually, I still don’t know what attunement he has.”
Jin pressed his mouth flat and looked as far to the side as his eyes would go. He obviously wasn’t planning to fill in the blanks. I gave a sigh of resignation, and his lips twitched. His gaze flicked back to me and he winked. It seemed his mood was improving.
“And this,” I gestured, “is Sera.”
Sera smiled with her usual charm. “Sera Cadence. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jin. Now, if you boys would step outside for a moment, I’ll get dressed and escort you to Patrick’s room.”
Chapter IX — Hard Day
I woke on Sera’s floor with a terrible neck ache.
We’d dropped Jin off with Patrick, who had been kind enough to lend out his own floor, much as we’d suspected. We didn’t fill Patrick in on any details aside from Jin’s room being “in need of repairs”.
Maybe I’d tell him eventually.
Sera was reading in bed when I pushed myself off the floor. “Finally. Now do I get some real answers?” She stared down at me.
I rubbed my neck. “I wish I had them. Suffice to say that I was attacked last night, and Jin helped me out.”
“Attacked?” She pushed her covers away. “You actually meant that comment about assassins? What happened?”
“Eh, I probably shouldn’t get into it until I have a better idea of what was really happening. Simple answer is that I think one of the teachers was testing me. Or maybe hazing me. Probably both.”
“You could file a complaint about that.”
I shook my head. “Not worth it. Thanks for giving me a place to rest.” I stood up. “You’re the only one I trusted.”
She eyed me dubiously. “You really mean that?”
I put my arm down slowly, and raised my head to look her in the eye. “Yeah. I do.”
There was a beat of silence before I turned away. “And I will fill you in on more of this when I can. I promise. Until then, though, I want you to be extra careful. I don’t think there’s any actual danger, but last night got me nervous.” So much so that I’d had trouble getting to sleep.
“Buy a chain for your door,” I urged. “Today. I’ll help you install it if you need me to. We need to start warding our rooms, too. I’ll learn the necessary runes.”
She ran a hand through her hair. “You think we’re really in danger?”
All I could do was shrug. “I don’t know, but if last night proved anything to me, it’s that it’s better to be as prepared as we can be.”
“If there’s a threat to you, or to both us, I’d really like to know why.”
“Let me do some info-gathering on that, and I’ll plan to meet you again tonight after classes. Say, at eighteen or so. Dining hall.”
“I have a class until nineteen.”
“Seriously?”
She nodded.
“Fine. Dinner at twenty. My stomach will pay penance for the sin of my intrusion last night.”
“I’ll see you there.”
* * *
I headed straight for Professor Orden’s office. If I didn’t check in with Jin by mid-day, he would inform the academy guard.
Fortunately, she was present, and without a line this time.
I was hesitant when I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me.
“Professor—”
“Wait. I’ll ward the room first.” She stood, tracing figures on the wall with a finger - the same few I’d seen her draw before. Or, at least, I was pretty sure they were.
When she finished, she sat back down in her chair. “Now, before you talk, let’s be quite clear. I’m Professor Orden. The same Professor Orden that you met in this room previously, and the same one that was at your room last night.”
I nodded. “And how can you prove that?”
“Last time you were here, we spoke about the Voice of the Tower. I have told no one else of this. I suspect you have been equally tight lipped. Thus, unless you think someone was spying on this chamber — quite unlikely, but you’re welcome to check the runes — I am, at very least, the same Orden you talked to previously.”
She took a breath. “You could assert that I was never the real Professor Orden, but that line of thinking doesn’t get you anywhere. If I’m good enough to pretend to be Professor Orden to the entirety of the campus staff, I’m effectively Orden as far as you’re concerned, no?”
“It would be a problem if you’re not the same Lyras Orden the Voice directed me to—”
“The Voice called me Lyras? Curious. Continue.”
“—but you’re right, I have no way of doing anything about that right now. Maybe I’ll look into your records or consult a Diviner eventually. I should also mention, before things get too heated, that my compatriots will be going to the academy guard about you if I don’t tell them not to by a designated time.”
Jin was the only one I’d actually warned, but in fairness, Sera probably would go to the guard if I missed dinner. Maybe I should have told her more specifics, though.
“How assertive of you. Unnecessary, but good. Your friends, if they reported the incident, would find the guards quite amused. I reported my raid on your room to them in advance, of course. Your dorm chief was also informed in advance. Had you checked with either of them, you could have confirmed that. Of course, I hadn’t anticipated a firearm being discharged — how novel! — and the guards already did investigate the scene.” She gave me a pointed look. “You would have also known that, and met with them, if you had stayed rather than retreating to Miss Shard’s room.”
I tensed at that.
“Yes, of course I know where you went. You should endeavor to be less predictable next time. Fortunately, I am not actually your enemy, and you performed better than anticipated in the test. As such, I will allow you to be a part of the investigation if I require your help.”
I tilted my head to the side quizzically. “Investigation?”
“I,” she tapped her fingers on the table, “am looking into an incident that happened at the tower. I may require your help, but I will be looking into some other matters first.”
An incident? I hope she’s not talking about my little prison break.
I scratched my chin. “All right, but you’re going to repair my door. And my ceiling.”
She let out a light trill of a laugh. “Ahh… No. Ward your room, Corin. You’re an Enchanter. No excuses, I gave you days.”
I had literally zero training as an Enchanter until yesterday.
I didn’t offer the retort that was on my mind, though. It would just make me look weaker. “Fine. But if you want me to make serious wards, I need resources.”
“Hmpf. For the moment, I need you to learn more than I need you to earn, so I’ll consider it. Nothing today, but perhaps I’ll arrange for you to receive a delivery at some point. In the meantime, we need to continue our conversation elsewhere. This place is, as I’ve mentioned, not perfectly secure. I had planned to take you somewhere to speak last night, but you were quite insistent on me leaving.”
I nodded, turning toward the door. “Where are we going?”
“No need for walking. Take my hand.”
I didn’t like where this was going, but I was tired of waiting for answers. I had my sword, my cane, and my shield sigil — I was as prepared as I was going to be if she turned this into a fight.
I walked toward the table and reached out. She gracefully took my hand.
“Spirit of wind and air, I command you!
By the pact sealed between us, I invoke your power.
Rise around us and within us;
Carry us upon your ethereal wings to the place of greatest safety.
Veiled Teleport!”
My vision went black. My stomach revolted.
When I could see again, we were in a cube-shaped room with what looked like transparent walls.
As I bent toward the floor to retch, I realized that even the ground was transparent.
All around the room was blackness.
A single floating torch flame illuminated the area.
“What… is this place?” I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the brightness of the flame.
“A safe locale. We can speak freely here.”
A transparent chair appeared directly behind her, and she sat down in it, looking nonchalant.
A magical construct? Is she a Shaper, then?
That last spell seemed like a Summoner spell, though. She referred to a pact; maybe this is part of the bound creature’s power.
She also used illusions of some kind last night.
So, at least two attunements. Maybe three or more.
I’m way out of my striking range here. Again.
I straightened, rubbing my temples to try — unsuccessfully — to clear some of the nausea.
“Ugh. All right. Let’s talk.”
“Good.” Professor Orden steepled her fingers. “First, I should be clear that I do not intend to do you any harm while you’re here. That doesn’t mean you should lower your guard, of course.”
“Right.” My eyes searched from side to side again, but I couldn’t see any signs of traps. Or much of anything else. The walls didn’t seem to have any runes on them. “I take it that ambush was some sort of test to see if I was following your instructions?”
She nodded. “And your general ability to protect yourself, as well as your creativity under pressure. I anticipated most of your tactics, but not firing into the ceiling. That was… inspired.”
Yeah. Inspired. That was a nice way to put it.
In reality, I was lucky I hadn’t accidentally hit Jin when I’d fired the shot. Still, I put on a confident smirk. “Unconventional, but it worked. Still, stabbing me with a knife was a bit extreme for a test, wasn’t it?”
“What, this?” She rolled her right wrist. The curved knife appeared. I tensed, but she laughed, making a gesture again. “You were quite nearly undone by this…” the dagger vanished, replaced by another object of similar size, “Carrot.”
I coughed. “Seriously? A carrot?”
“I can make illusions, darling. It was necessary to make you feel threatened to elicit a reaction. I wasn’t about to put you in any actual danger.”
I frowned at that. “But I could have hurt you.”
Professor Orden chuckled. “How adorable,” she mused afterward, shaking her head. “Did you notice what happened when you fired your cane at me?”
I nodded. “Some type of protective spell.”
“Good, you were paying at least some degree of attention. There’s a common misconception that Enchanters can’t be effective combatants. The people who perpetuate that misconception are rarely aware of what an Emerald-level enchantment can do.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. “Emerald-level?”
“Ah, you haven’t been briefed on attunement levels yet? I shouldn’t be surprised, I suppose it is only your first week.” She pointed a finger at my forehead. “At the moment, you’re what we’d call a Quartz Mage, or just Quartz for short. It’s the lowest level of attuned, and virtually all students begin there. One of the goals of the university is to increase your mana to the extent that you reach the next level, Carnelian Mage, by the time you graduate.”
I nodded. “Is that the reason why some marks of the same attunement look different than others?”
“Precisely. When you reach the next attunement level, your mark will visually change. Before you ask, it isn’t painful. Some people experience a brief feeling of disorientation, and people looking at you will see you glow the color corresponding to the new attunement level, but that’s it. The transitions into higher levels are more impressive, but they’re rare enough events that you’re unlikely to ever see one, let alone experience it.”
That made sense. “How many levels are there?”
“Above Carnelian, you have Sunstone, then Citrine. That’s the highest you’re ever going to see under normal circumstances. Even then, Citrine Mages are extremely rare. Above them, you have Emerald Mages, perhaps a handful of which exist in the world. Finally, Sapphire Mages. A hypothetical title. Some speculate that one or two might have existed in history.”
“Those names seem sort of… arbitrary.” I tried not to sound petulant.
Orden raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. “There’s a form of logic to it. They represent the color of the aura of mages of that attunement, and those colors follow the same order as colors appear on a rainbow. Thus, a Carnelian Mage has a red aura and so on.” She paused for a moment. “Sunstones aren’t always orange, so that one’s a little easier to confuse, but the rest tend to be easy to remember by color.”
I scratched my chin, trying to process all that. “Right. And you’re an Emerald Enchanter?”
She huffed a small laugh. “Goddess, no. I’m only Carnelian-level as an Enchanter, and barely C-ranked within it… meaning toward the middle of my progression to the next attunement. I had this made as a favor by an old friend, who is a Citrine Enchanter. It’s possible to learn a few spells that are above your attunement level — in his case, he knows at least two Emerald-level spells.”
Orden took a breath. “A person’s attunement level represents their overall capabilities. Casting something above your level is possible, but potentially dangerous. Miss Shard, for example, is still Quartz, but she cast a Carnelian-level spell during your little conflict with Teft.”
She’s been watching us closely. “So, I take it an Emerald-level protection spell can block, what, dozens of hits from a cane instead of a couple?”
“One could devise an enchantment to do that at a much lower level. I could make such a thing myself. No, my vest absorbs mana from low-level offensive spells — yes, a dueling cane’s attacks are spells — and redirects that mana into recharging my other magical items. If you had managed to penetrate that defense with a powerful enough attack — which you don’t have, of course — one of my other defensive items would have stopped it.”
Holy Goddess. That’s… not even remotely fair. “If items that powerful exist, why don’t we see people using them all the time?”
“Keeping items like my tunic rare keeps the people who have them — that is, the people who already are in power — secure. Beyond that, they’re hard to make. It took my friend weeks to finish this single enchantment, and the materials were hundreds of times more expensive than what it takes to make a little shield sigil like yours. At least two of the components were from spire guardians.”
Ouch. Looks like I won’t be getting one of those any time soon. “Still, what about weaker ones? Shouldn’t everyone in the military have something like a, I don’t know, permanent version of my sigil?”
“A common argument. Some units do carry sigils like yours, but it’s more expensive than it sounds. A few large companies carry the patents on the most efficient permanent shield enchantments, and thus manufacturing them in mass requires going through those companies.”
I blinked. “You’re joking. You can patent combinations of runes?”
“I’m quite serious, I assure you,” she retorted flatly. “No one can stop you from making an enchanted item for yourself, of course, or even making a few for friends. But the minute you start to sell them on the open market? Be prepared for solicitors to take you to court.”
Ugh. “That sounds pretty abysmal. But if I found something unique, I could patent it myself?”
“Certainly, but the three main ‘rune manufacturers’ have a few hundred years advantage on you. Occasionally, someone still finds an unusual rune on a magical item high up in one of the towers, but most possible runes were found long ago through a combination of divination and brute forcing combinations.”
“Lovely. All right, so I couldn’t have harmed you. You’ve proven my preparations were inadequate. How could I have done better, when you’re clearly vastly more powerful, better informed, and have more resources at your disposal?”
“Ah. An excellent question. Sometimes, victory is not about being able to defeat your opponent; it’s about making it too inefficient for your opponent to even try to win. You had the right idea when you fired into the roof, and also when you yelled… although the latter was muffled by the rune I wrote outside your door before I came inside. A standard practice for any Enchanter planning stealth work. Sufficient to cover ordinary noises, but not quite enough to cover the gunshot. That would have gotten me into some trouble if I had been a true assassin.”
I nodded at that. “So, signal for help.”
“That’s one part, but a sufficiently prepared safe place — like your room — should have deterred me before I even entered. I won’t be breaking in again any time soon, but I will come by and check on your door at some point in the next few weeks. I expect defensive wards. Be creative with the ones you choose.”
“All right… but why do you think this is necessary? I have some idea about why my information might be dangerous, but I haven’t told you enough of it yet to warrant the kind of security you’re giving me.”
“On the contrary, young Cadence. As I mentioned before, the Voice wouldn’t have contacted you if you weren’t already involved in a conflict of great significance. Moreover, recent events related to the tower have given me an idea of why you were sent to me. I have a responsibility to make sure you are adequately prepared before I tackle that danger myself, and nothing inspires a student into action like the threat of death.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic, even if I didn’t like her method. I ground my jaw, continuing to listen.
“Did the Voice give you any indication of the larger situation we’re dealing with?”
I shook my head. “No, but I did see some things in the tower that certainly seemed noteworthy.”
“Interesting. Are you aware that no one has exited the tower since the day that you completed your test?”
My eyes widened at that. “No, I, uh, hadn’t heard.”
“Don’t be hard on yourself. We’ve kept that little tidbit quite tightly under control, and it’s why I took your claim about the Voice so seriously when you brought it to my attention. At the point you told me, we had just deployed a second team into the tower to investigate. To date, neither of those teams has returned. Both had Sunstone Mages, and they are normally capable of handling the first several floors of the tower.”
I didn’t quite know what to say to that. I offered, “Um.”
“At this point, you’re probably wondering why I didn’t follow up with you immediately or teleport you straight here once you mentioned the Voice.”
Sure, we’ll go with that.
She continued, “I needed to have a chance to vet you first. Believe it or not, students have been used as spies and assassins in the past. I had to verify that a Corin Cadence actually entered the tower, exited, and fits your description. Beyond that, I had to check and see if you had any unusual attunements beyond the obvious mark on your forehead, or anything else of note. Your sword was of some interest, but while it’s an advanced weapon to find in a Judgment, it was not enough to imply that you were an assassin. And you made no effort to conceal it.”
Aww, she thought I might be an assassin? That’s kind of flattering, I suppose. “That makes sense. I suppose a message directing you to go to the tower while the tower is inescapable would be somewhat suspect.”
“Precisely. There are a few possible scenarios we’re entertaining. None of them are pretty. Fortunately, it’s unlikely that everyone inside will be… purged. If that were necessary, whoever sealed the tower would have also made it impossible to enter. Thus, it’s more likely this is a security measure to prevent someone specific from leaving.”
I took a deep breath as I considered how to respond. “I think I have an idea about who that might be.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“So, when I was in the tower, I ran into a few other people—”
The eyebrow lifted higher.
“—and yes, I remember the experience. I’m not sure why. Maybe the Voice helped?”
“No need to speculate on that at the moment. Please, continue.”
“Well, I found a few people and ended up making my way through some of the chambers with them. One of them was a swordsman named Keras—”
Her focus intensified at the name. I tried not to stumble over my words.
“—who ended up fighting with — and I’m fairly confident when I say this — Katashi, the Visage of Valor.”
“Katashi was there? Interesting. Continue.”
Really, that’s your only comment?
“Without getting into too much detail, I fled the fight along with the other two. I mean, one of them was unconscious, but Vera, a woman from… Caelford, I think? Maybe? She helped me carry the unconscious boy. Then she betrayed me and took the kid, running off on her own. Not really clear on why.”
“And the Voice interceded on your behalf?”
“Not physically, he just told me a route to take to get out. Then, when I got there, he told me to contact you. Oh, and he gave me the sword.”
Professor Orden looked stymied by that. “He… appeared to you? In person?”
I shook my head. “Oh, I suppose it probably wasn’t really him. Just a floating robe. Like, a simulacrum, maybe?”
She took a deep breath. “Ah, of course. Yes, that makes more sense. Did he tell you anything else?”
I paused, considering. I was being deliberately vague, of course, but I needed to tell her anything that could get me more information. I didn’t trust her enough to reveal anything that would make me look bad. “He indicated that there was something he needed to do quickly, and that I needed to leave the tower fast. I suppose that was referring to sealing the tower off. Could he do that?”
“Perhaps.”
“At the time, I assumed he was going to go intercede in the battle between Keras and Katashi.”
She raised a hand to her forehead. “Unlikely, but perhaps through indirect means. I take it that means you did not see how the battle concluded, then?”
I shrugged. “No. But it’s a foregone conclusion, right? Katashi is a visage, they—”
“I wouldn’t make too many assumptions when it comes to Keras Selyrian.”
Selyrian? I’d never heard that surname before. “Who is he?”
“A dangerous heretic. He’s appeared in several cities, given speeches against the goddess’ doctrine, and disappeared. The common theory is that he is an agent of the Tyrant in Gold, possibly one of his children.”
Oh, lovely, I may have just let a malevolent demigod out of prison.
I rubbed my forehead. “Do you think that’s likely to be true?”
Orden shook her head. “He’s certainly powerful, but I can’t say if that’s accurate. There are other possibilities. He could be one of Wydd’s forms, for example.”
I nodded at that. Wydd was the Visage of Forbidden Knowledge and she — or he, depending on the day — was known to take on many forms. There were stories of her conflicting with other visages in the past, but I hadn’t heard any that involved direct combat. “Do you think Keras is the reason the tower was sealed?”
She shifted her hand, drumming her fingers on the chair. “That is an excellent question. Knowing that Keras is involved certainly puts the whole situation in a different light. It’s possible he’s responsible. I’ll have to consider it and investigate further. You’re welcome to research him yourself, but don’t make it your primary focus.”
Orden paused, eyes pensive. “You said the woman with him was named Vera, and sounded Caelish?”
I thought back to when I’d met Vera and her interactions with the other prisoners. “Yeah, but I don’t think they were working together. She fled just the same as I did when the battle started.”
“Interesting.”
“And you mentioned a young boy. Another applicant, like yourself?”
“Not sure. He had even darker skin than Vera, so he was probably Caelish, too. He looked too young to be taking a Judgment and he had an unusual mark on his forehead. It was large for an attunement. It looked more like a tattoo.”
“That could be nothing; tattoos are much more common in Caelford. But you’re right that it’s unusual enough to note. If nothing else, it should be possible to find out if a young Caelfordian with a forehead tattoo entered through the Door of Judgment recently.”
“Do people from Caelford take their Judgments at a younger age than we do?”
She shook her head. “No, but people from Edria take them at twelve or thirteen. It’s possible he’s from Edria and simply had a Caelish complexion.”
True enough. It was easy to assume someone’s region of birth based on their skin tone, but there were people of all nationalities living everywhere these days.
“Were you serious when you mentioned that there could be agents of a visage coming after me, or was that just to inspire me to prepare?”
Orden cracked her knuckles. “Both. You must understand that part of the influence of the visages comes from the belief that they are infallible. You witnessed a visage fight someone — not destroy someone, not execute someone, fight them — and you escaped after seeing it.”
She waved a finger at me in warning. “That kind of knowledge is dangerous. It may be sufficient in itself for Katashi to want you eliminated. Perhaps he would be merciful enough to order someone to remove your memories. Of course, maybe he won’t care at all. It is always prudent to plan for the worst case.”
I agreed with her logic. And, considering I’d been responsible for freeing Keras in the first place, the chances that Katashi would hold a grudge were even higher than Orden knew.
“So what do I need to do for now?”
“Focus on learning how to use your attunement. First, because it will improve your ability to defend yourself. Second, because there’s a good chance I will need to take you with me into the tower to investigate this later in the year. I will try to give you as much time as possible to prepare, and I will also ask some of my contacts to keep an eye on you in case there are any actual threats in the meantime.”
I sighed in relief. “Thank you, I don’t think I’d be capable of repelling an actual assassin on my own yet.”
“I never expected you to be, but your preparations did show promise. Continue to improve on them. I may not be able to look out for you forever, especially since I will most likely need to go into the tower on my own for a while to investigate this.”
I considered that. “Do you need me to help with your investigation right now? I mean, I obviously shouldn’t go in the tower yet, but what about other research?”
She shook her head. “No, not yet. Focus on improving your skills. You should make certain to get your attunement to Carnelian status before you visit the tower again. You’ll be much more likely to survive that way.”
Yeah, fair enough, surviving is one of my favorite things to do.
From the way Orden was starting to glance back toward the paperwork on her desk, I got the message that she was done with the conversation. I took a step back toward the door. “Okay, that makes sense. Do you have any idea when you might need me in there?”
Orden pursed her lips. “I can’t say. You should prepare as quickly as possible. Even the first floor will be much more dangerous than what you faced in the Judgment. I would advise trying to reach Carnelian status within three months. Sooner would be better.”
Three months to hit Carnelian. One more thing to work on.
“I’ll do my best to improve my enchanting as quickly as possible.”
She scratched her nose before replying. “Good. You should also study the tower itself as well. Even if I do not end up bringing you into the tower to investigate this situation, students are generally sent back into the tower — accompanied by a teacher — for a test at the end of the year. Thus, you should focus heavily on preparing for another visit to the tower either way.”
“Got it.”
Orden gave me a curt nod. “Excellent. I hope that the Voice can clarify this situation in general, especially whether Katashi wants you dead. I will try to determine that as quickly as possible.”
I nodded in return. “And if Katashi does want me dead, I should be preparing to fight him when I go back to the tower?”
“Oh, Goddess, no, child. If Katashi decides to attack us directly, you should be prepared to die.”
* * *
We concluded our talk quickly after that, and she sent me on my way with one last instruction.
“Don’t discuss what happened in the tower with anyone who isn’t already aware of it. We need more information before we raise any alarms.”
I wasn’t pleased by that, but I understood her reasoning. “What about my sister?”
“You may consult with Jin if you need assistance, since he’s already gotten himself involved, but we can’t risk dragging anyone else into this situation. Understood?”
“Understood.”
I considered telling Sera immediately in spite of Orden’s orders. There was roughly a zero percent chance she wasn’t going to be dragged into the situation at some point. It was just a matter of when.
I should probably do a bit more research before I talk to her, though. At this point we don’t know enough to formulate a plan of action.
I considered my options while I went to verify a few things.
Yes, the academy guard had been informed that I was going to be under a mock “attack” the night before. No, they hadn’t expected a firearm to be discharged. Fortunately, the bullet hadn’t hit anyone.
Curtis, the dorm chief, had the same story. Apparently they hadn’t heard me screaming for help due to a rune Orden had marked in chalk on the wall outside my room. That was good. Everyone had heard the bullet, though. He’d made it outside to reassure the other students that it was just a drill shortly after Jin and I had fled the scene.
He also mentioned that this sort of thing happened occasionally. He’d been a target of a similar “attack” himself the first year. Apparently, it was something of a tradition.
Wonderful.
I wasn’t amused. In fact, I was rather bemused. But… at least her story seemed to check out. I even found an unfamiliar rune marked on the outside of my door, presumably the one for dampening noise. I wrote it down so I could look it up later.
I left a note for Jin telling him that I was safe, and then headed to my next class. I’d tell Sera that everything was okay at dinner, as planned. Hopefully I’d have a better idea of what I was actually willing to tell her by then.
I quickly realized that the answer was “not much”. Not because I distrusted her, but because of the public setting. If Orden was paranoid enough about the information to teleport me to… goddess, I didn’t even know where or what that place was. In any case, it implied a level of discretion was ideal.
I needed security. I’d fill Sera and Jin in on the very basics, like that I probably wasn’t going to be assassinated immediately, and then work on learning the runes for properly warding a room to prevent Divination and other forms of observation.
Assuming I could even cast them.
* * *
The rest of the week had markedly fewer attempts on my life. It took a few days to get my ceiling fixed, which was awkward for a time. Fortunately, Jin seemed amused by the situation.
I told Patrick, Jin, and Sera that Orden’s assault on my room had been a “surprise test”.
Patrick took this at face value. Jin tilted his head, pressing his lips together against whatever skeptical remark he had lined up. It didn’t stop his eyes from rolling.
Sera wasn’t that polite.
“That’s a bunch of resh, Corin.”
I waved a hand dismissively. “I… might have done a few things to warrant the surprise test. But don’t stress over it. I’m pretty sure I passed.”
“Right.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Feel free to let the rest of us know when you feel like trusting us.”
I winced. Sera was right, of course. I needed to show a little trust for my friends if I wanted them to trust me in return.
I wanted to tell them all right then, but I’d made a plan and I needed to stick with it. The truth was still buried somewhere and I’d need to do more digging to find it.
* * *
Since I wasn’t ready to tell Patrick or Sera everything about what had happened, I waited until later in the day when I had a chance to talk to Jin alone.
I knocked on the door to his room.
He opened it a few moments later, wearing a quizzical expression. “Ah, Corin.”
I gave him my best conspiratorial grin. “Want to come with me to do some research on this ‘Keras’ guy?”
Jin gave me a considering look, then glanced away. “I suppose it might be more interesting than studying,” he told the wall.
We made our way to the library first. It seemed like a logical choice at the time, but the librarian was quick to correct us. “Keras Selyrian, you say? No, I don’t think we have any newspaper with articles on him. You can check — that trouble in Dalenos was about three months ago.”
Jin looked at her, head tilted. “What do you mean, trouble?”
“Oh, that isn’t what you’re here about? He’s a heretic. Gathered a big crowd and started preaching about how the visages have been lying to everyone. The local guard tried to arrest him, but he escaped.”
Well, that’s disconcerting. I stepped a little closer to the librarian’s desk. “Where could we find out more about him?”
“Well, the papers are on the second floor near the back,” she gestured toward the stairway, “but your best bet would be the Divinatory. They might have a memory crystal from someone who witnessed the whole thing.”
I blinked. Was that possible? I’d heard of memory crystals, but not much about them. “That sounds promising. We’ll check the papers first, then head to the Divinatory.”
We did just that.
It took a couple hours to sift through all the newspapers in the appropriate range of dates the librarian gave us — everything from about three to five months back — but we didn’t find anything on Keras. That wasn’t particularly surprising, though, given that the newspapers tended to focus on local events, political gossip, and occasional advertisements.
The most disturbing thing about glancing through the newspapers was the sheer number of articles talking about hostile actions along our border with Edria. Troop movements, weapons tests… even rumors of Edrian agents found across the border, probing for weaknesses.
Could a war with Edria be what Keras was talking about in Dalenos? If so, is he trying to cause a war, prevent one, or something else entirely?
I needed to know more.
We headed to the Divinatory next.
I went straight to the front desk. “Excuse me, we’re looking for information on someone named Keras Selyrian. Would you happen to have any memory crystals or other information related to him?”
The second-year student behind the counter scratched his chin. “Doesn’t sound familiar, but I’ll go check the archives. Wait here, please.”
He returned a few minutes later. “Uh, would you mind telling me why you’re looking into this?”
Uh oh.
“Research assignment,” Jin replied while I was still thinking. It was a good answer.
The student glanced at Jin, frowned, and then looked back to me. “I’m afraid all information on Keras Selyrian is currently in the restricted archives. Do you have an authorization slip from your professor?”
I shook my head. “No, it must have slipped her mind. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to let us take a quick look?”
“Definitely not. I’m not sure I could get you anything even if you had an authorization slip; it’s in a classified section of the archives beyond my security level. If your teacher wants you to see this, she’d be best off coming here herself and talking to the Researcher.”
I pondered my reply for a moment. “All right, we’ll talk to our teacher. Thanks.”
“Sure, sorry I couldn’t help.”
We headed back to my dorm room to discuss things. Jin leaned back against the wall, wearing a thoughtful expression. “Should we ask Orden to go pick this up for us?”
“I think if she was willing to do that, she probably would have already. I have a feeling this is probably another test.”
Jin nodded, seeming to reach a conclusion. “How important is it to you that we succeed at this?”
“Uh, pretty important? Not only could it provide critical information to help clarify what I’ve already seen, it could be the type of thing that might help keep me alive. I’d call that a pretty high priority.”
He nodded again, raising a hand to his lips. “Do you have some of your civilian clothing? Maybe a scarf or a coat that isn’t part of the standard uniform?”
I blinked. “Sure…?”
“Show me. I’m going to need to borrow a few things.”
“You don’t have your own civilian clothes?”
He shook his head. “I do, but nothing appropriate for what I have in mind.”
Well, this should be interesting, at least.
I showed him what I had in my drawers.
Jin selected a heavy winter coat, a tall hat, and an ordinary walking cane from my belongings, and then headed up to his room. The coat was a little bit too big for him, but not implausibly so.
I did a little bit of reading while I waited, but I was pretty distracted wondering what in the name of the goddess he was up to.
Two hours later, Jin returned, pulling a glowing green gemstone out of a pocket of my borrowed coat. His face was covered in sweat and he was clearly out of breath, but lips were curled into a crooked grin.
I stared blankly at him. “Is that…?”
“You’re going to want to see this. After I leave, put the crystal in your right palm and say ‘view.’” He took a deep breath, wiping off his forehead with his free hand. “You’ll be incapacitated for several minutes while you view the memory, so do it somewhere safe.”
I nodded. “How did you—”
Jin shook his head. “I didn’t. You got this on your own. There’s an after-hours return slot on the right side of the Divinatory. Drop it there late tonight. Don’t be seen.”
…did Jin just break into the Divinatory in a ridiculous disguise and steal that gem for me?
This may be the single most amazing thing that has ever happened.
I smiled brightly, accepting the gem as he handed it to me. “Thanks, I owe you… two now? Let me know if there’s something I can do to repay you.”
He gave me a short nod. “I will. I’m leaving now.”
“…can I have my coat back?”
He raised a hand, tipped my borrowed hat downward, and focused his eyes on mine. “I suppose, if you insist.”
I laughed as he slipped off the coat and hat, setting them down on the bed. He leaned the cane up against the wall.
I put the memory crystal down on my bed and opened the door for him to leave.
He paused, turning his head toward me as he began to walk out. “Corin?”
“Yeah?”
“You should distance yourself from this whole affair as quickly as possible.”
I frowned. “I’ll consider it after I take a look.”
“Good.” He left with no further discussion, and I closed the door.
Hrm. If I’m going to be out of it for several minutes, I should make myself comfortable.
I sat down on my bed, leaning back against the wall.
Maybe I should grab Sera to watch me while I do this? But then I’d have to explain a lot of things to her… I’m not sure that’s a good idea yet.
I’ll just do this now and talk to Sera later, if I think it’s appropriate.
I put the gem into my right palm, propped a pillow behind my neck for support, and moved into a comfortable position.
“View.”
My vision faded, replaced with the view of unfamiliar eyes.
* * *
My surroundings shifted, and with them, my perspective. For one dysphoric instant, my mind refused to process the abrupt changes. Height. Clarity. My gaze shifting without my control. I adjusted, though the discomfort didn’t subside.
My new surroundings were unfamiliar, though I recognized elements within it. I was seated on one bench of many in a circular chamber with fine décor on the walls. The most notable from my position were a Valian flag — a white serpent over a crimson hexagon — and tapestries depicting two of the visages, Tenjin and Kerivas.
I tried to turn my head to inspect the rest of the room, but I couldn’t.
In fact, I couldn’t move at all.
Should have expected that, I chastised myself. I’m seeing a vision, not living in it.
Fortunately, whoever had copied their memories into this crystal turned their head of their own accord a few moments later, giving me a better look at the chamber as a whole.
Well, at least I’m not completely stationary. I suppose I’ll move whenever this guy did.
The place reminded me of a theater or an opera house in structure. I didn’t see any private boxes, however. The benches were positioned to overlook a stage-like area about fifteen feet below, but instead of stage props, all I could see below were chairs and a speaker’s lectern.
Is this some sort of lecture hall?
That didn’t seem quite right. I’d never seen a lecture hall with this kind of circular structure. A judicial hall of some kind, maybe?
The seats were nearly all empty, but I saw a handful of people gathered in a cluster to my right. They were far enough away that I couldn’t make out all their words, but one of them turned and addressed me directly.
“He’s coming. Watch this closely. We may need to inspect the details later.” The speaker was an older man with a gray beard and a scar under his left eye.
I stood up. “Yes, Sir.”
The voice that emitted from where I was standing was strong and deep, most likely an adult male. “Should I…?”
My hand reached down, indicating a saber that was sheathed on my hip.
The older man smiled. “We’ll take care of that side of things if it comes to it. You just focus on staying safe.”
I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
The older man turned back to the collection of figures around him as they began to disperse. As the crowd separated, I finally noticed someone I recognized. A woman in her forties in an immaculate dueling tunic, her hair raised into a bun, a sheathed saber at her side.
My mother… dressed for a fight.
She moved to a position on the exact opposite side from where I was standing. My heart lurched in my chest as I processed the fact that I was seeing her for the first time in five years and it wasn’t even through my own eyes.
Her jaw was set, her expression was grim. Something was bothering her, but she didn’t say anything aloud.
Where the resh was this? What was I seeing?
There was a rapping sound from below. Someone was knocking on a door to the lower stage area. I stepped forward and glanced down, seeing a door open on the lower level. Two men in the coppery armor of the Soaring Wings guard stepped in first.
Keras Selyran followed them into the room. The guards shut the door behind him.
Keras was wearing his mask, but not his long coat or belt. His sword was absent. He was wearing a fairly standard tunic — no knives in the back like the one he’d been wearing in the tower. As far as I could tell, he was unarmed.
My vision swam for a moment as shimmering auras flashed into being around the people in the chamber.
What the—
Oh!
These are the memories of a Diviner; he’s using his attunement to look at the auras of the people in the room. Not a bad idea.
A quick glance around the chamber showed me some consistent colors. There were only three visible people remaining in the stands above the room: the older man; my mother; and a brown-haired woman who looked to be in her twenties. All three of them had auras in a similar color range.
Yellow with a hint of green… So, they’re either Citrine or Emerald. That’s pretty impressive, given that there are only supposed to be a handful of Emeralds on the continent. Is Mother really that powerful? I knew she was in the military for years, but…
I looked back down at the lower area, observing Keras and the guards. The guards had orange auras, meaning they were Sunstone-level. Comparable to most of the professors, then.
Keras didn’t have a colored aura at all. Instead, there was a rippling field that distorted the air around him, almost like he was underwater or within a wave of heat.
That’s disconcerting.
The masked swordsman stepped into the center of the chamber, glancing around, and then turning his head toward the older man who I’d spoken to before. “Do I have the honor of addressing Tenjin, the Visage of Insight?”
The older man laughed. “Aahh, no, I’m not quite that ancient, I’m afraid. I’m Councilor Gerald Lanoy, the Visage’s Adjutant. This is Councilor Lyran,” he gestured at my mother, “and Councilor Theas,” he waved at the other woman.
Keras scratches his chin. “Councilors? Meaning members of your Council of Lords?”
“Correct,” Councilor Lanoy confirmed. His tone was paternal. “I understand that you’re not a Valian native, so you might be unfamiliar with our governing process—”
The masked man waved to stop him. “I understand the basics. I must admit to being a bit disappointed, however. I mean no disrespect, but I was informed that I would be meeting with the visage. Why the change?”
“Regrettably, such a meeting will not be possible,” the councilor said. “I’m afraid that our… noble allies in Dalenos have declared you guilty of heresy and filed for your immediate extradition.”
Keras’ hands briefly balled into fists, then reopened. “This was a trap, then.”
Councilor Lanoy sighed. “Not a trap, Sir. I read your request for the meeting and approved it personally before the extradition request came to us. I admit to being intrigued by your claims, and were the situation different…”
Keras took a step forward. The guards tensed, moving hands toward weapon hilts, but Councilor Lanoy raised a hand to stop them.
Keras leaned back and folded his arms. “The situation can be different. Let me speak to the visage before you send me to Dalenos. I suspect he would be willing to dispel these claims of heresy personally if he heard my message.”
Councilor Theas raised a hand to her forehead, closed her eyes, and then turned her head toward Councilor Lanoy. “They’re waiting outside.”
Councilor Lanoy nodded in response, then turned back to Keras. “I regret to say this, Sir, but you are under arrest for the crime of heresy in the kingdom of Dalenos. I would like to ask you to cooperate. If you do so, we will provide you with one of our best legal advisors to attempt to convince them to lower your sentence.”
“In Dalenos? For heresy?” Keras barked a laugh. “What, would they lower the sentence to only taking off half my head?”
The old man winced. “I believe one of our attorneys would be able to persuade them to limit the punishment to something less than fatal.”
Keras rubbed his forehead. “I appreciate the thought, but I have no intention of being imprisoned for telling the truth. I’ll be leaving now.”
He turned back toward the door. The two guards stepped in his way, drawing steel.
Keras raised his hands to display empty palms. “Please don’t make this difficult. I’ll leave peacefully if you let me.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Councilor Theas stepped closer to the edge of the platform overlooking the lower area. “But don’t worry, you won’t have to fight anyone. You won’t get the chance.” She pointed a hand at him. “Elias, bind him in the chains of authority.”
Shimmering green chains sprung up from the floor, surrounding Keras and enveloping him in an instant. They wrapped around his limbs, seemingly of their own will, and pulled together tightly. Shackles manifested around his wrists.
Keras turned his head toward Councilor Theas. “That was a mistake.”
He moved his arms apart. The chain connecting the shackles snapped first. The other chains cracked apart as he moved, stepping closer to the door.
“Stop him!” Theas yelled.
The first guard moved quickly, swinging his sword in a downward arc. Keras caught the blade his right hand, completely arresting the weapon’s movement. With a twitch of his hand to the side, the sword blade snapped.
Keras discarded the broken half of the sword blade in his hand while side-stepping a sword swing from the second guard, then spun to deflect a blast of lightning from a third attacker — my mother.
She’d floated down from the top floor onto the floor of the council chamber below.
“A lightning sorcerer? That’s more interesting, at least.” Keras smirked.
Mother! Oh, no…
It occurred to me in the following moments that I didn’t know exactly when this gem memory was from… and that I hadn’t heard from my mother in months.
Mother didn’t look as scared as I felt, though. In fact, she was grinning too.
She snapped her fingers, a crackling aura of lightning manifesting all around her. “You’re quick,” she remarked. “But unarmed? I don’t think you’re much of a threat.”
Keras raised a single hand, shaking it in a conciliatory gesture. “You’re right.” He kicked the now-unarmed guard that tried to grab him from behind, sending the man tumbling into a nearby wall. “Hold that thought.”
The other guard opted for a lunge. Keras side-stepped it without looking, spun, and grabbed the guard’s arm. Another smooth motion and Keras plucked the sword from the guard’s hand, seemingly without effort. As the guard stumbled backward, Keras advanced, twisting the weapon to use the flat of the blade. A wall of ice appeared between them before he could take a swing.
Keras turned just in time to deflect a hail of icy shards, nearly identical to the spell that Sera had used against Teft, but larger and more numerous. His stolen blade flashed crimson as he cut the chunks of ice apart, then flared with silvery light as he hopped atop the ice wall and looked at the source. Councilor Theas was enveloped in an aura of frost, still sending more icy shards in Keras’ direction.
He opened his free hand, running it across the blade of the sword. Fire trailed where his hand passed, igniting the edges of the weapon. He swung the sword in an arc, launching a burning crescent at Councilor Theas, but a blast of lightning from my mother smashed into the crescent, detonating the two attacks in the air.
Keras glanced back down at my mother, then back to Councilor Theas. “Two sorcerers? You certainly prepared for me.”
Councilor Lanoy cracked his knuckles. “Three, actually.” He traced a pattern in the air, leaving a glowing blue rune shimmering in front of him. “I would advise you again to surrender.”
The masked swordsman grinned. “Oh, you misunderstood me. I wasn’t complaining. I’m just starting to get interested.”
“A pity.” Councilor Lanoy pressed his hand into the glimmering pattern. It split apart into a series of spheres of mana that spread out and then rapidly converged on Keras’ location.
The swordsman spun to slice the first one with his blade, but it detonated before he managed to strike it, creating a rippling shockwave of force that sent Keras stumbling backward along the icy wall, right into more of the converging projectiles.
A dozen more blasts of blue-white light erupted as the spheres burst around Keras, blinding me for an instant with their intensity. When my vision cleared, Keras was still standing. His tunic was shredded and bloodstained, a hint of blood dripping from his lips. Burn marks were visible on his back.
He was grinning more brightly than ever. The aura around him flickered, then intensified, turning a silvery hue.
Keras vanished, reappearing next to Councilor Lanoy and driving a fist into the older man’s gut. A shimmer of silver and green erupted on the impact. The councilor folded around the punch, collapsing to the floor in an instant later.
“Elias, Warden of the Adamantine Wall, I summon you!”
Councilor Theas shimmered brighter green, a shimmering shroud of runes surrounding her as a metallic titan appeared on the floor below. The creature was roughly humanoid, but it must have been twenty feet tall, and it crackled with green energy that matched Councilor Theas’.
She summoned a golem, I realized, and a powerful one at that.
“Grab him, Elias!”
The golem was surprisingly fast for its size, reaching out with a massive hand to grab at Keras. He was still faster.
His sword shimmered silver. His hand blurred. Metallic fingers clattered to the floor below.
A moment later, Keras was running around the circle of the upper level, blindingly fast.
He paused in front of me.
I raised my hands. “I am just here to observe.”
Keras’ eyes narrowed underneath his mask for a moment, then he grinned and chuckled. “Fair enough.”
He blurred again, appearing in front of Elora.
She blasted him with a cone of ice at point-blank range.
For a moment, it looked like it had worked. Keras was completely enshrouded in frost. Within, however, I could see a crimson glow beginning to form… and then the ice burst apart.
Just in time for the golem’s other hand to punch Keras into the wall.
For a moment, the room was still.
Then, inch-by-inch, the golem’s massive fist began to move backward.
Keras was pushing it back with his off-hand.
“That,” he said, cracking his neck, “Actually hurt.”
His sword-hand twitched. The golem’s arm separated into two halves, which Keras pushed apart.
“Elias, I dismiss you.” Councilor Theas grimaced, waving toward the metallic creature.
The golem vanished.
She raised a hand again, a crimson aura appearing around her. “Vanniv, I—”
Keras appeared in front of her, his sword blade glimmering with a silvery aura. He pointed it at her chest. “That’s enough.”
Councilor Theas’ hands tightened into fists. “Very well. I concede your victory. I will withdraw.”
“Good.” Keras waved his empty hand. “And tell the group from Dalenos waiting outside not to bother sending reinforcements unless they have someone more powerful than you are.”
Theas looked like she was going to say something else, but she was interrupted by a blast of flame annihilating the floor below Keras and enveloping his entire form.
My mother had moved to the position just beneath him on the lower level and blasted upward. Since she was on the level below, he had no way to see it coming.
Keras hit the floor right in front of her, smoke trailing off his body. He was covered in scorch marks now; she’d obviously hurt him. But the burns weren’t nearly enough to account for the intensity of the flames. The shimmering aura around him must have provided him with some degree of protection, like a barrier.
He was in a kneeling position when he recovered from the blast. When his eyes reopened, I could see that his irises were silver, bleeding into his sclera.
When he stood, dusting himself off, he turned that silvery gaze toward my mother, standing only a few feet away. “Ah, yes. Sorry to keep you waiting. Shall we?”
He raised his sword and waited.
My mother drew the saber at her side. “Let’s.”
Keras moved first, but I could tell that only because of the position where their blades locked. His weapon had been stopped by her saber when it was inches from her face.
Mother was the one smiling now.
Keras frowned.
“Let me reintroduce myself. Laura Lyran. Councilor. Elementalist. And, perhaps most importantly, Emerald Swordmaster.”
Then she kicked him in the chest.
Keras took the kick with a grunt, stepping back in surprise, and losing his push on her weapon. Mother followed with a series of rapid strokes at chest level, her own movements too fast for me to follow, even with the Divination-enhanced vision.
Another of her strokes went low, but he kicked it aside, pressing forward with a thrust of his own. Mother batted it aside with her off-hand… which was glowing with electricity. The charge traveled through Keras’ weapon and into his arm. He winced, managing to maintain his grip, but barely dodged the follow-up swipe at his gut. It tore another line across his tunic and a crimson trail along his chest.
“Curious,” Mother mused. “Your shroud isn’t working properly.”
“I’d love to tell you all about it after you surrender.” Keras swung downward in a cut that should have come nowhere close to hitting her. His blade grew longer mid-swing, forcing my mother to make a split-second dance to her right.
Where his left fist was heading.
She took the punch with a wince and then struck him in the ear with a cupped palm.
Keras stepped back, grimacing, and shifted his stance to one I’d never seen. His right arm extended almost completely, the tip pointed toward my mother’s chest. It looked almost like an Edrian fencing stance, but I’d never seen one with the sword-arm extended so far.
The intent of the stance was clear enough. It left little of his body exposed, and his sword was in the way of any further attempts at getting close to him with a fist.
My mother stepped back, lowering into a standard defensive saber stance. Then she flicked a finger against the flat of her saber and a voltaic charge traveled along the surface of the blade, flickering back and forth from hilt to tip. As long as that electrical charge was on her blade, she could shock him on any contact between their weapons. I approved of the tactic; it made attrition her ally
It also made me deeply concerned.
Such a tactic would only be necessary if she knew she was at a disadvantage.
Keras took a step forward, pulling his arm back an inch. Mother moved her guard upward. Keras reset his stance.
A test, then.
Keras and my mother stood motionless for moments save for their eyes. They were both searching for weaknesses, finding none.
With his focus on my mother, Keras didn’t see the injured guard crawling up behind him. With a nod to my mother, the guard grabbed Keras around the right leg.
Keras startled, turning his head.
My mother lunged.
The masked swordsman twisted, trying to move out of the way, but the guard’s grip held. The blade caught Keras along the ribs, sending a charge of lightning into his chest. He stumbled back a step, finally managing to kick the guard and send the man tumbling across the floor.
Mother struck again. Keras caught her blade with his, but her blade was still charged with electricity. The lightning traveled from her weapon into his, searing his skin — but he didn’t drop the blade.
He pressed back harder.
Mother fell back a step, losing her stance for an instant. Keras’ blade flashed downward, driving Mother’s into the floor below. She pulled, but it was stuck.
Mother wasn’t done, though. She released her grip on the useless weapon and stepped inside Keras’ guard, slamming both hands into Keras chest. A blast of lightning launched him backward into the nearest wall.
Keras stood again.
His aura burned brighter. The air around him seemed to tremble as he stretched out his arms, readying his weapon to strike. His blade burned with a flare of silver, bright as a newborn star.
Then he smiled and tilted his head downward. “That was the most fun I’ve had in a while. I hope we’ll meet again.”
Then he turned and swung the burning weapon at the wall behind him, cleanly severing through the stone. With a punch from his other hand, the wall gave way… and then he was rushing out of the room.
My mother grit her teeth, taking a step toward the hole where he retreated, but the guard who’d helped her stood back up in her path. “Councilor Lyran, please help me see to the wounded.”
Mother’s eyes narrowed, considering, and then she nodded. “Of course.”
I was moving. I knelt next to the old man, Councilor Lanoy, and inspected him. Still breathing. Councilor Theas was already approaching as well. She looked exhausted, but uninjured.
I turned my head toward Councilor Theas. “He’s alive.”
“We were very lucky.” Councilor Theas knelt down at his side.
“No,” My voice replied. “He chose to be merciful.”
My vision froze after that, shifting in a blinding instant back to my own eyes.
* * *
I turned the gem over in my hand, trembling as I considered what I’d just seen.
Keras was there to meet with Tenjin, and they tried to arrest him. It follows that the ambush probably made Keras unhappy with everyone involved.
And Tenjin has been missing for weeks now.
Resh. Did Keras hurt one of the visages?
That would certainly explain why he was imprisoned in the tower if it was the case.
I frowned.
And Mother was there.
Mother fought against Keras, and she handled herself better than any of the others did. I knew she could fight, but… That was pretty impressive.
When’d she get a second attunement?
That last part didn’t really matter. I was glad she’d made it out of there alive, but I’d barely talked to my mother since she’d left. While I certainly felt a pang of fear for her when I’d seen her there, now I was more interested in why she was involved.
She clearly knew more about Keras than I did if she’d was involved in an attempted arrest.
I was nowhere near ready to reconcile with my mother after years apart, but this gave me a very good reason to write her a letter. I needed all the information I could get.
Dear Mother,
It’s been too long since we last spoke. Unfortunately, this letter is less about personal matters and more about a pressing concern.
I have recently become peripherally involved in a situation regarding a man named Keras Selyrian. I understand that you have also been somewhat involved in this matter, and thus, I would like to discuss things with you — either by missive or in person, at your discretion.
In specific, I am seeking any information about his present location and disposition. I hope you will be able to provide me with some insight.
I also hope you are well.
-Corin
I handed the letter off at the courier station, paid them, and headed back to my room to ruminate for a bit.
It felt a little cold for the first message I’d sent to my mother in years. Still, she hadn’t exactly gone out of her way to see me, so any obligation I felt was tinged with bitterness.
When evening came, I dropped the memory crystal off in the spot Jin had indicated.
I had more questions than ever about this. Hopefully, my mother would have answers. In the meantime, I did have one more person I could ask.
* * *
“Professor Orden, can we talk?”
Orden frowned at me, pushing a lock of dark hair out of her eyes. “Back so soon?”
I closed the door behind me before responding. “I have information to discuss,” I said, turning back to her. “Can we speak in a safe location?”
She sighed. “Very well.”
She walked over, placing a hand on my shoulder and muttering the words to her “Veiled Teleport” spell.
We appeared in that strange empty white space she’d taken me to before. My stomach still lurched as we teleported, but not quite as badly as last time. Maybe I was starting to acclimate to it a bit.
“Well?” Orden folded her arms.
“I managed to obtain a bit of information on Keras. He was in a confrontation with members of the House of Lords, who attempted to arrest him.”
Orden gave me an approving nod. “You managed to discover that a bit faster than I expected. Found out from your mother, I assume?”
I shook my head, only in the aftermath of making the gesture realizing that maybe I should have claimed that as my method. Well, too late now. “I obtained and watched a memory crystal of the event.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Fascinating. I wonder how you managed such a thing? Oh, don’t tell me and spoil the fun. I’ll figure it out. I appreciate the update, but I knew about that event. Did you discover anything you think was relevant?”
“Well, he claimed to be there to meet with Tenjin, but the council stepped in to have him arrested.” I thought about that for a moment, then reconsidered. “Or, I should say, a few members of the council. I imagine that couldn’t have been everyone.”
“Quite right.” Orden folded her hands in front of her. “The Council of Lords currently has forty-five seats. That was a small affair that I believe the Adjutant arranged in cooperation with Dalenos’ authorities.”
Forty five seats? That was more good information for me to keep in mind for the future. “I wasn’t quite clear on that. They mentioned something about heresy?”
“Keras fled arrest in Dalenos after he made a public speech about the visages deceiving the populace about the state of the outside world.”
Yeah, that’d definitely count as heresy. “In what way did he claim the people were being deceived?”
“I didn’t hear all of it,” Orden admitted, “But it had something to do with the Tyrant in Gold not being as controlling as everyone thinks.”
Oh, dear. “I’m half-surprised that Katashi didn’t fly down and smite him on the spot.”
Professor Orden chuckled. “Well, it seems it did come to that eventually, didn’t it?”
“Or something like it. We still haven’t heard anything about what happened after the fight I witnessed… unless you have?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t have any news on that subject. I will inform you if I discover anything pertinent, however.”
“Thank you. One more question, since you were already familiar with the incident I mentioned. Was that before Tenjin stopped showing up to Council meetings?”
“Right before,” she confirmed. “If you’re thinking that Keras went after Tenjin after he escaped and attacked him, that would be the prevailing hypothesis.”
Resh. And I’m the one that let Keras go free.
That means I have an obligation to help stop him if I can.
“Thank you, Professor. That’s all I needed to know.”
* * *
My class the next day was Mana Manipulation, one of the two classes on my schedule that was only assigned to Enchanters. I was still distracted thinking about Keras and worrying about my mother, but the class was interesting enough to help get my mind off of it to some extent.
The best part was right at the beginning.
Professor Edlyn, the same teacher I’d signed my paperwork with right when I came out of the tower, was in charge of the class. She started us out with a simple instruction.
“Close your eyes and put your hand over wherever your attunement is located. Now, take a deep breath, and think about the passage of the mana within your body. If you’ve ever used a runic item, think about how that mana flows out of you into the object. If not, simply try to picture a flow of energy within your body, emanating from your attunement mark.”
I followed her instructions, envisioning the familiar sensation of the dueling cane leeching mana out of my hand. I felt a twinge of phantom pain just from remembering the sensation.
“Now, say the words, ‘Detect Aura.’”
I repeated the phrase.
“Open your eyes.”
I opened them. I immediately shut them again.
Everything had been glowing.
It was blinding. I blinked and blinked again, but the auras didn’t go away. From the murmurs of excitement and frustration around me, I wasn’t the only one experiencing it
“If you’re sensing auras now, you’ve just activated your attunement. Different Enchanters sense auras differently; this appears to mostly be tied to the location of the attunement mark, but there is some variation. If you haven’t activated your attunement yet, we’ll try another method…”
She ran through a few more exercises until all of the students indicated that they were able to sense the auras around them. During that time, I gradually acclimated to what I was seeing around me.
Brilliant nimbuses of power, shimmering around every student. They varied in intensity from person-to-person, and each student’s aura seemed to emanate from a different spot.
Most students had colorless auras, just distortions around them that looked like waves of heat. A few of them had a crimson tinge to that aura. One student’s was already completely red. I assumed that meant he’d already hit Carnelian level. Impressive, considering we’d just started the school year.
Professor Edlyn had a shifting, multi-colored aura, clearly brighter and broader than those of the students in the room.
Mana. I’m seeing mana.
I chuckled in delight at the thought. Lifting my hand, I could see my own mana, a translucent field that seemed thickest within my right hand. The lack of color made it difficult to discern, but it distorted everything beneath it, like looking at something immersed in water. Of course, my most important mana source was the attunement on my forehead, but I couldn’t exactly see that without a mirror.
I thought that I could feel it, though. Maybe just a little, like a pool of warmth beneath my skin. I briefly felt a surge of dysphoria at the concept of mana occupying the same space as my brain. Sure, it was supposed to be a normal part of my biology, and I knew that, but it was weird.
“Now that you can perceive your mana, you should be able to shift a portion of it to another part of your body. This is the simplest Mana Manipulation exercise and one that serves as the foundation for dozens of others. You will need to be able to shift the mana within yourself to learn to shift it out of your body, and thus to empower runes.”
I proceeded to spend the next two hours trying and failing to complete this utterly basic task.
Over the following week, I tried again and again, but I just couldn’t get my mana to change. I assumed it was some sort of mental block; I’d heard of people who could alter their heart rate just by thinking about it, for example, and I couldn’t do that either.
It was just before the next Mana Manipulation class that I realized I had a way to cheat.
I kept my attunement disabled most of the time. Activating and deactivating it was as simple as closing my eyes and thinking about it. The words “Detect Aura” were just a shortcut for tricking our minds into doing what we wanted them to do, and different shortcuts worked better for different people. I didn’t need that one.
Since it was easy for me to perceive my own aura, I realized that if I wanted to move it on my own, I should try focusing on it while it was being manipulated by something else. Namely, while practicing with my dueling cane.
My next two dueling classes didn’t actually put me on the stage. They were focused around tactics and technique, with a few other students bearing the brunt of Lord Teft’s antics. I did, however, get permission to use a dueling dummy for practicing with my cane.
I turned on my attunement before I focused on the rune, activating my dueling cane the same way I had so many times before.
This time, I saw it. The essence flowing from my arm into my thumb, which triggered the rune. A second surge of essence from my hand into the body of the cane, then flowing out from the cane in a burst of concussive force. I saw an unfamiliar aura around the dummy before the strike impacted, and then a different aura manifest as the dummy’s shield activated, blocking the burst.
I tried again, and this time as the cane drew mana out of my hand, I pushed.
More mana flowed out of my hand into the cane, charging it with power. The force of ensuing blast tore the weapon right out of my hand.
The mana burst missed the dummy entirely, but dissipated harmlessly in the air before it impacted anything.
I breathed a sigh of relief, even as my hand twitched in pain.
I’d done it. My mana had moved.
It took me two more days to reproduce the ability to move my mana without the use of my cane, and even then, it was much harder. But, challenging or not, it worked… and that was enough.
Immediately after my next Mana Manipulation class, which discussed the basics of transferring mana from an outside source from one place to another, I attempted my first enchantment.
…Or some facsimile thereof, at least.
Normally, Lord Teft recharged our protective sigils before the beginning of each dueling class. Studying the sigil, I realized it was more complicated than I had originally expected. It had three main runes, each with a different function.
One, it had a persistent aura that detected if it was in close proximity to a person. This seemed to have a range of a few inches, so it could be worn on a garment that was over a layer of armor.
Two, it had a second persistent aura for detecting incoming attacks.
Three, it would create a barrier around the person it was detecting if an attack was inbound.
This made it much more mana-efficient than something that just continuously generated a barrier around whoever was wearing it, since maintaining a barrier for a long period of time had a high mana cost.
This also meant that the barrier could potentially be circumvented by finding things the detection spell did not classify as an “attack”. I’d have to study that. I didn’t want to hurt the other students, of course. I just figured it would be good to know what tactics potential threats might use against me, since the pin was my only real defensive tool.
The two detection functions used mental mana, which I was ostensibly specialized in. The third, the shield itself, used simple gray mana — which I also had a lot of.
That meant I could, in theory, recharge the item by myself. Or, eventually, I could make more on my own.
My first several attempts to recharge the sigil ended in failure.
The biggest problem was that I couldn’t force myself to move my mind’s mana. Most likely because even the idea of using mana from my brain terrified me.
Was I going to permanently damage my brain? Tear away my own memories? Kill myself outright?
All of the above were possible if I used up too much of my mental mana. I knew that, and I knew that other people still used their mental mana all the time without any difficulties.
I also knew it would get easier and easier once I got started.
I still couldn’t do it. I kept thinking back to what happened to my great grandfather.
Alaric Cadence had been the pride of our family. He was a war hero, famous for ending the Six Year War between Valia and Edria in a duel.
He was the one who elevated our family from merchants to the “Noble House of Cadence” as a reward for his victory.
He was the reason my father and my uncle had become duelists. They’d lived in his shadow, just as I always would.
And he had died without recognizing his own son’s face.
He’d only been forty years old when it happened.
No hero was immune to the costs of war.
In Alaric Cadence’s case, the price had been subtle at first. He’d laugh about forgetting something simple, like where he’d put a piece of clothing. Absent mindedness that anyone could easily dismiss.
Forgetting a few faces of people he hadn’t seen in years? No problem.
By the time it was obvious that he was overusing his mental mana, he could barely care for himself. Our family spent every resource at their disposal seeking answers, but it was futile. No damage caused by the overuse of mind mana had ever successfully been repaired.
I had never met the man, but I knew his story. I saw it written in the face of my grandfather, every time he looked at Alaric’s portrait. I saw it in the way my father’s hands trembled when he prepared for a duel.
It had been my mother who actually told me the tale. Perhaps my father would have told me eventually. Or perhaps he was too afraid that his own life would end in the same way.
Grandfather remembered me last time I spoke to him, but I always worried that there would come a time when that would end.
The fear that story instilled was a part of me, something bone-deep that no level of rational thought could simply dispel. And, while I told my mind that I would not let fear break me, I didn’t have to.
All I had to do was bend — and the fear had won.
The fear always won.
Ultimately, I ended up recharging the barrier part with gray mana successfully first. It was in that process that I realized that the item didn’t have a capacity-limiting rune like the ones we’d learned about in my permanent enchanting class. That meant, in theory, that I could overcharge it until it exploded.
That’d be bad.
Fortunately, I was able to compare the strength of the aura to what it had been when Teft had filled it up prior to my last class and easily get it into a similar range. I didn’t know what the tolerance was for error on refilling the item, but I figured it wasn’t something where a tiny bit of extra mana would make it burst and annihilate me.
I still erred on the side of “too little” mana, though.
After a day of rest, which was more than I strictly needed, I tried converting some of my gray mana in my right hand into mental mana to use for recharging the other functions. That would have circumvented my fear of using the mental mana directly from my brain.
I failed at that for the rest of the week.
During that time, I got a little more used to talking to Sera and Patrick again. Roland remained taciturn, but I saw him from time to time as well. I didn’t see much of Jin.
In the following week, I hoped to get a little more insight into my mana conversion problem in my attunement class. Magic theory class talked a lot about the ideas behind attunements, but the attunement class was where we learned more about the exercises and practical applications of all attunements.
Converting mana from one type to another was something every attuned would have to do eventually, so it was something we’d be practicing in there.
Unfortunately, that particular class ended up covering a lot of the same information that Professor Orden had about attunement levels, like Carnelian, Sunstone, etc. This time, it was in the context of focusing on how we could work our way from “Rank E Quartz” to at least “Rank B Quartz” before the end of the year.
Interestingly, the attunements teacher also confirmed something Orden had implied: people with multiple attunements could have completely different levels with them. Orden had called herself a Carnelian-level Enchanter, but she was conceivably much more powerful at illusions or summoning or whatever other strange attunements she had.
The power of an attunement corresponded to the amount of mana in that specific part of the body, so I’d have to train my mental mana in order to make my attunement stronger. That was going to be a problem.
The school only expects us to hit Rank B in Quartz by the end of the year, but I need to get all the way to Carnelian in a few months. That’s going to be a lot harder. Rank B in Quartz only requires about 25 mana, which seems very doable.
Getting to Carnelian, however, requires about 60 mana. I haven’t checked since that first time, but I’m still probably around 18. I’ve got a long way to go.
Professor Conway was a rust-bearded gentleman in a tweed suit who seemed entirely engaged with his own lesson. Once the material he was covering started to become less familiar, I refocused my attention to it.
“The term ‘spell’ can be misleading, as it implies the use of words. However, only lung-marked attuned make judicious use of words for their magic. When a Guardian focuses their shroud around their hand before punching someone, the Guardian is using mana, and thus we classify that as a spell.”
He was surprisingly animated, despite the mundane subject. He emphasized each major term, like “spell”, and provided accompanying gesticulations. “Some academic institutions outside of Valia have begun to use different terminology for attunement-based abilities activated through other means. Others have simply replaced the word ‘spells’ with something more general in nature. For example, Edrians use a local word that translates to ‘techniques’.”
Several students made rude noises, and he paused to regain silence. Once he had it, he continued as though nothing had happened. “Now, you’re probably wondering what each of these attunements is capable of, hmm?”
There was a murmur of approval from the class at what I’d interpreted as a rhetorical question.
“Excellent, excellent. In today’s class, we’ll cover the basics of each of the local attunements. In subsequent classes, we’ll get into more details on the capabilities of each, as well as synergies with other attunements. We’ll also have an overview of the attunements of other regions, but you’ll have to wait for next year for details on those.”
The professor walked over to the chalk board at the back of the class room and began to draw. Aside from Professor Edlyn in my Mana Manipulation class, he was the only professor I’d seen use chalk.
I was sitting pretty close to the front, but it still took me a second to recognize what Professor Conway was drawing — the Guardian Attunement symbol. He finished it a moment later, keeping the chalk in hand.
“I’ll start with one of the most controversial: the Guardian. In old times, we didn’t think the Guardian had magical abilities at all, and the name is a legacy of that misconception. At first, we believed it merely passively enhanced the resilience of the Guardian. Thus, the name.”
He fell into a low martial arts pose of some kind, his chalk-hand extended forward. “As years passed, Guardians began to demonstrate seemingly magical abilities through martial arts. We understand these abilities far better now, and they are a way of manipulating mana as surely as hurling a bolt of fire would be for an Elementalist.”
A visible aura appeared around the professor as a swirling field of yellow-orange. Normally, I couldn’t see auras unless my attunement was active, so I assumed he was doing it deliberately.
The professor continued his explanation. “The Guardian accomplishes this by manipulating their shroud, a field of mana that surrounds their body. Normally, the shroud is equally distributed and serves primarily as a defensive field, but it can be focused on a certain part of the body. Either to defend…”
Conway flicked the chalk forward and it ignited in a burst of flame, vanishing a moment thereafter. “…or to strike. A Quartz Guardian will learn to use this to punch, kick, and block more effectively. At higher attunement levels, Guardians learn to extend their shroud to objects, or to push a specific type of mana through their shroud — just as I did a moment ago.”
He stretched, resuming a normal posture, and his aura faded. “Even at advanced levels, Guardians always focus on manipulating their shrouds. Thus, Guardians often learn traditional martial arts forms in addition to the techniques they study to focus their mana.”
That made sense. I was curious if specific motions triggered specific ‘spells’ or if it was more about just focusing their mind. I’d have to ask about that later if it wasn’t addressed directly.
He clasped his hands in front of him. “All attuned develop shrouds once they reach Carnelian status — but no other local attunement can manipulate a shroud to the same degree. There are, however, some foreign attunements, such as the Legionnaire—,” he turned his head, looking distracted. I heard it a second later.
A bell. No, bells — more and more of them, growing louder as the bells nearer to us began to chime.
Some students immediately began to stand. Conway unclasped his hands and held one out to forestall chaos.
“Students,” his voice was projected and clear, “please remain calm. The bells you’re hearing mean that there is an emergency situation within the school. We will be heading to the nearest shelter, which fortunately, is quite close by. First row, please stand and head to the door, then await me outside.”
He had us file out of the room in an orderly way. Once we had joined other evacuating students outside of the classrooms, most of us were deathly silent, but I heard a few whispers.
“Dangerous,” said a few of them.
“Scared,” was among the most popular.
“Monsters,” was the most important.
I got the general idea.
Our school was probably under attack.
Given the fact that both Teft and Orden had shown a proclivity toward testing their students, I considered the possibility that this was just some sort of drill. There had been invasion drills at school when I was younger; that school had been close enough to the Edrian border to warrant them.
I discounted that possibility when I saw the winged figures in the air.
There must have been dozens — no, hundreds of them. They all shared some characteristics: wings, obviously, as well as vicious claws. Beyond that, though, I noted a variety of shapes and sizes of the flyers. Some looked almost humanoid, whereas others looked like giant birds or winged lizards.
Too many to be illusions.
How did they get this far?
There weren’t any wild monsters near the city. That meant these creatures were probably from the spire, which was close by. Spire monsters almost never left home, though. I hadn’t heard of it happening in my lifetime, but there were stories. My father had a few of them. In general, the Soaring Wings took care of any small groups of monsters that somehow managed to follow someone out the tower gates — usually a fleeing climber who had gotten in over their head.
The other cases were cautionary tales.
Stories about vast waves of monsters, or a handful of titanic ones, exiting the tower to dispense the will of the visages.
If the Soaring Wings hadn’t stopped these monsters? That meant there were either too many for the guard to handle… or they’d let the monsters through deliberately, at the behest of a visage.
As I watched the first of the creatures descend from the sky, I pondered if my death would come at the hands of a creature serving the whim of the goddess my family had always revered.
And, as I followed in the line of students toward the nearest shelter, I wondered if I had caused the deaths of others by defying her.
More and more of the creatures began to descend on the school, but fortunately, none of them were near us.
“Mister Ross, lower your cane. Do not attack them. If one gets close, I will handle it,” Conway instructed. The student in question lowered his weapon, looking upset. I kept my hand near the hilt of my sword.
We were in one of the older parts of the university, which meant a lot of gray and brown buildings densely packed together. Presumably, this was before “décor” was invented. From a more practical standpoint, it meant we could easily be boxed in if those flying creatures decided to land on either side of us.
I probably wasn’t the only one who had come to that conclusion — the teacher was striding at a hurried pace. We found another class coming out of a different lecture hall after about a minute of walking, and I noted a familiar face among the crowd.
Patrick didn’t even take the time to make excuses to his class — he just wandered out and took a position next to me.
“Corin, Corin! Look!” He pointed to the sky, as if I could have somehow missed the cluster of monsters that were making the sun work hard to do its job. The students around us looked bemused by his exuberance, but I humored him and gazed skyward.
A hint of a coiled form, slipping quickly back into the clouds. It was hard to tell at a distance, but I was pretty confident that the small fraction of the creature I’d seen was larger than the lecture hall we’d just excited.
“That’s… bad,” I managed.
Patrick nodded sagely. “Yeah, but like, really exciting, right?”
I blinked at him as we continued to walk, passing another class. “I suppose that, in a way, you could call being potentially devoured by the God Serpent exciting.”
“Oh, no way, that’s not the God Serpent. It’s way too small.”
Small? That thing is about the length of a city block!
He was nonplussed by my skeptical thoughts, continuing, “Oh, oh, I think that’s Mizuchi. Yeah, look at the purple tint on the scales on her belly!”
I glanced upward again, and yeah, some of the scales — each of which was about the size of a castle door — did have a lilac hue. Most of the other scales were silvery-white, like the ones I’d seen on the actual God Serpent in the tower. “Okay, I’m looking. What, precisely, is Mizuchi?”
“One of the God Serpent’s daughters,” he explained. “And man, she’s supposed to be vicious. They call her the ‘Hero’s End’, since she, you know…”
The other students around had stopped glaring and they actually seemed to be paying attention now. We were continuing toward the shelter at a steady pace, but I had no idea where that was located.
“I get the picture. Has she ever been outside of the tower before?”
Patrick shook his head. “Don’t think so. She’s a spire guardian, they rarely are found outside.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “What floor of the tower does she guard?”
“She’s not one of the ones that guards a floor. She goes where the visage wills, protecting things that we’re not supposed to see. In addition to ‘Hero’s End’, they call her the Guardian of Secrets.”
That sounded… really bad. A monster designed to serve a visage directly was going to be nearly invincible. The size of her was intimidating enough, but that knowledge made me all the more concerned that we lacked the firepower to repel her in a confrontation.
Looking up, though, I had to frown. There was no confrontation. The monsters weren’t raining fire from the sky, nor were the mages below firing bolts of lightning at the monsters above.
What was going on?
“Patrick, do you recognize the other types of monsters up there?”
He blinked at me, and then looked up. “Oh, yeah, why?”
“What are those things? Gargoyles?”
He made a ‘hmm’ sound, considering. “Yeah, a few of them, but not a lot. Gargoyles are solid stone… like that one.”
Patrick pointed at a particularly monstrous looking creature, with a gator’s jaw and four massive arms. “Those are tough, but slow and not very smart. They’re just animated by magic. Those scalier ones, with the leathery wings? Those are urgoyles — they’re flesh and blood. Much easier to hurt, but smarter. And the ones that look like fashion models with wings? Karvensi. They’re tougher than gargoyles, as smart as humans, and a few of them even use magic.”
Looking closer, it looked like groups of the urgoyles and gargoyles were clustering around individual karvensi… which made things scarier when I realized the implication. They’re organized.
I saw one of the karvensi point a finger and a trio of urgoyles descended on a distant part of the school.
I really hope Sera is already in a shelter.
I can’t rely on hope in a situation like this, though.
“Patrick, do you know where Sera is?”
He shook his head, looking pained. “No, sorry. Haven’t seen her since the morning.”
Oh, resh. That’s bad.
A part of me wanted to break off from the growing crowd — more classes were falling into columns near us — and search for her. I didn’t have any idea where to begin, though. More importantly, if these things were here for me, being near Sera might have actually put her in more danger.
I hoped she found one of the other shelters. They seemed like our best chances to survive.
Seeing Mizuchi’s shape dip below the line of the clouds again, though, I had to wonder if even the shelters would be enough.
We were approaching a large stone building and the teachers at the front of the lines were beginning to point and talk to each other. I couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but I got the impression we’d just reached the shelter.
“Stop here,” Conway instructed. “There’s only one entrance, so the classes are going to file in one at a time. Don’t worry, there should be plenty of time—”
A figure slammed into the ground in front of the entrance, cracking the pavement. At least eight feet tall, with a wingspan broader than his height. His skin was dark gray like the stone of the gargoyles, but this was no cumbersome beast of rock.
A karvensi. Tiny rocks were floating in the air around him, and I thought I could see the crackling of electricity a few inches from his body.
“One moment,” Conway told us, then spun on his heels.
Students and other professors alike backed away from the creature as it stood up to its full height, stretching its wings.
Professor Conway walked right up to it, turning his head upward to meet the creature’s golden irises.
“You, sirrah,” Conway said, “are blocking our way.”
The karvensi stared down at him, leaning in closer.
Conway stood up a bit taller. I could feel a pressure building in the air, like the tension between them was forcing the air out of my lungs.
It lasted several moments before the karvensi turned its head away, scanning the crowd, and then ducked and launched itself back into the air.
Professor Conway watched the creature depart, and then waved to another teacher. “Professor Vanway, you may lead your students inside.”
We cheered and clapped at the display, but Conway quickly silenced us with a gesture. “No time for celebrations. We will proceed in an orderly fashion.”
And we did. It took several minutes for each of the gathered classes to file inside. Once within the building, we were guided toward a stairway that led downward, into a large underground tunnel system. Runes flashed on the walls of the tunnels as we approached, lighting mana-burning lanterns that looked ancient and disused.
We began to pass doors on either side of the tunnel, but they were locked shut and covered with a broader variety of runic etchings. There were more there than I’d seen outside the doors of the tower itself. I wanted to stop and write them down for later study, but the crowd was moving at a steady pace.
We eventually reached a fork in the tunnels, taking the left passage, and proceeded through an open doorway into a huge chamber. Filled with wooden desks and benches, but with the walls covered with pristine tapestries symbolizing the various god beasts and visages, it reminded me of a cross between a mess hall and the audience chamber of a king.
There was no king here, however, nor any sign of Chancellor Wallace. Most of the few teachers gathered looked as nervous as the students, but Conway still looked taciturn.
There were students coming in through three other entrances to the chamber, but even so, those present only represented a fraction of the school’s population. I hoped there were several other safe houses — or whatever this was — throughout the school.
The teachers guided us toward seats. I scanned the crowd for Sera, Roland, and Jin, but I didn’t find any of them.
I was just about to take my seat when the room began to shake.
Dust and pebbles rained from the ceiling, and the tremors stopped as quickly as they had started.
Students exchanged nervous whispers. Patrick and I looked at each other, but remained silent.
This place must have magic to keep it stable in case of an attack, otherwise it wouldn’t have much of a point.
As much as I tried to reassure myself, though, the tremor had scared me more than even the sight of Mizuchi. Being crushed to death beneath thousands of tons of rock was not my idea of a good way to go.
I tapped my foot, trying not to contemplate the horrible ways this could end.
What am I doing here? Monsters I can deal with, but there’s nothing I can do if this place collapses.
I could hear a few people taking the situation worse than I was, crying into a friend’s shoulder or refusing to sit down.
A cluster of teachers had gathered near the front of the room, discussing in hushed tones. After a second bout of shaking, one of them stepped out of the circle. Teft.
He flickered, and then there was another Teft nearer to me. And another across the room… and a few more. They tapped their canes on the floor in unison, creating an echoing rap that silenced the students.
The original Teft was the one to speak, but I could hear his voice emanating from all of the others, presumably to make sure everyone in the room could hear him. A neat trick.
“Students. Do not be concerned. The creatures in the skies above us are all specialized in observation — that is, they’re not here for battle. They are simply looking for something. At this time, we do not believe that ‘something’ is a student. Once they find what they are searching for, they will most likely leave. That said, rest assured that the Valian military has been contacted and will be arriving here in full force within the hour.”
With that, his duplicates faded, and Teft simply turned his back and returned to the group of teachers. Student murmurs resumed a few moments later.
“An hour? You really think they can get an army here that fast?” Patrick looked about as nervous as I felt. His hands were clenched into fists.
I shrugged. “It’s not going to be the entire army. I think he was being hyperbolic when he said ‘full force’. A few thousand troops, though? Possible if they’ve got some sort of teleportation system set up, which they almost definitely do.”
Prior to the invention of trains, I knew some individual attuned used to serve as couriers via teleportation, but there were no teleportation-based mass transit systems. That probably implied that the enchantments were too costly to use regularly. Or perhaps that the military simply didn’t want teleportation to be easily accessible to the public, due to the potential dangers. If Valia was one of the only nations with access to teleportation, for example, it would be unwise to let it fall into the hands of other countries.
I really needed to study foreign attunements soon. I didn’t even know if other countries had anything equivalent to an Enchanter.
“Would the army really be able to stop those things, Corin? There were a lot of them up there. And Lord Teft, what he said about them scouting? That’s true for the little ones, but what about Mizuchi?”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Patrick seemed better versed in the monsters than I was. I’d focused on studying the Judgment specifically, and these kinds of monsters were from other parts of the tower. “I think we’re going to have to trust Teft on this.” It felt awkward to say that, considering how deceptive he’d been in class, but that extreme behavior was probably for our own benefit and amusement. Probably.
“Al… All right.” He stood up for a minute, looking around, and then sat back down. “I still don’t see the others.”
I’d sort of given up on that. “They’re probably in another shelter. We just need to—”
There was a flash of light, and then a feeling of pressure. It was similar to what I’d sensed when Conway had faced off against the karvensi outside, but stronger. I could feel the source before I saw it — a floating figure in the center of the room.
A cloaked and hooded figure, the hood seemingly empty. I knew immediately what it reminded me of, but it wasn’t quite the same as the form the Voice had taken.
The robes were tattered and worn, but stitched with golden runes. It was huge; it would probably have reached fifteen feet in height if it had been standing straight. Instead, it hunched over, as if bearing an invisible burden.
I activated my attunement. My eyes burned from what I saw.
The floating creature radiated with malevolence. The aura was a sickly green, pulsating, extending several feet out in every direction from the monster’s body. I’d never seen an aura that felt so powerful.
Teft flickered and appeared below the creature with his cane raised a moment later, but he didn’t attack. His own aura was brilliant gold. The hooded figure continued to hover in the air, a good twenty feet above Teft’s position.
I saw Conway hop onto a table, too, but he didn’t seem to have teleportation magic; he made his way closer at a running pace. He glowed with a field of yellow-orange.
I deactivated my attunement. The sheer number of auras in the room was making my head swim.
The cloaked figure turned its head, scanning the room. I saw no face within the cowl, consistent with the experience I’d had with the Voice.
Nearby students had risen from their tables and were beginning to scatter, and I heard a scream or two. One student even fired a bolt from a dueling cane at the thing, but the attack glanced harmlessly off the creature’s robes.
The hooded figure turned, glancing at the source of the attack. I saw the student wither at its gaze, taking a step backward… and then his dueling cane snapped in half. No action was visible from the cloaked figure or the student — it just broke apart.
The student retreated into the crowd and the hooded figure turned away. No other students risked an assault.
Conway finally reached the center of the room, hopping onto a table next to Teft. I could see another professor nearer to the back of the room standing on another table — was that Meltlake? I couldn’t tell, she was too far away.
I hoped it was. If a battle broke out, I didn’t think any one of the other professors had the kind of firepower that Meltlake did.
And, just like it had appeared, the creature unceremoniously vanished.
I felt little comfort at that.
Clearly, if some of these monsters could teleport, our little hiding spot was not secure. The teachers must have sensed that, too. I saw Teft clench his fists as the creature vanished, then begin to draw on the table below him with his cane.
Making runes? Something to block enemy teleportation, maybe?
I watched with interest, but Teft was too far away for me to see any details.
The next several minutes were tense, until Chancellor Wallace appeared on a table near Teft, flanked by a pair of soldiers. Teft walked over to the chancellor and exchanged words.
Chancellor Wallace moved to the center of the room, waving a hand and creating a glowing golden symbol in the air. I’d never seen anything quite like it. It bathed the chamber in a warm, comforting light.
“My students.” Her voice sounded like it was coming from right next to me. That was an even better trick than Teft’s. “We have determined the cause of the monster incursion and addressed the issue. They will be returning to the tower shortly. We will keep you down here for another couple hours, just to be certain that the school is completely cleared of any potential threats, but the problem appears to be resolved.”
Most students seemed relieved. Even I was, in spite of my concerns…
…Which made me suspect that the symbol in the middle of the room was more than just a pretty glowy thing.
Mind magic. Something to soothe us.
It made sense; she’d want us to be calm and prevent any further problems.
But there was clearly something wrong. The problem appears to be resolved? What is this ‘problem’ she’s being so vague about?
I had a few ideas.
Keras Selyrian was at the top of the list.
If he’d escaped the tower, I’d bet anything that Katashi would be sending monsters to figure out where he’d gone.
I didn’t know how to feel about that.
I’d more or less sided with Keras in that conflict, but I still knew virtually nothing about him. He was a foreigner, obviously. He might work for the Tyrant in Gold, but I couldn’t be sure about that. It was only a rumor.
It had been my instinct to protect Vera and the child — who I also knew virtually nothing about — that had made my decision. Katashi seemed like he was perfectly happy to leave me alone.
But why was Katashi even in this tower in the first place?
The Serpent Spire was Tenjin’s territory, not his. Were they working together on something?
I needed answers and, even more than those, ways to protect my friends.
I was done with being idle.
I seethed in silence for the remaining hours before they sent us back to our rooms. Classes were cancelled for the day, and for the following day.
That was good. I had work to do.
Chapter X — Commissions
As soon as we were released, Patrick and I went to check on Sera. We found her back at her room, unharmed and unconcerned. We were both pretty relieved.
After that, Patrick and I parted ways to head back to our own dorms. I found Jin right outside our dorm building. He wasn’t hurt, either, but he was in an even less talkative mood than usual. Maybe he was a bit shaken by what had just happened. If so, I couldn’t blame him.
When I made it back to my room, I was surprised and relieved to see that the ceiling had already been fixed. Maybe the academy guard had seen the hole and sent in the request, or maybe Professor Orden had handled it herself in spite of her protestations. I’d find out later, but for the moment, I had a more pressing priority.
I opened a very familiar book and began to write.
Dear Voice of the Tower,
Residents of the tower are currently scouring the Lorian Heights academy for something. One of the creatures I saw looked a great deal like the form you used in the tower, but bigger. Was that you? Are you here?
-Corin
My heart pounded while I waited. I had no evidence that the Voice was outside. Its name implied that it probably wouldn’t be… but the similarity between that robed figure and the form the Voice had chosen was worth investigating.
I didn’t get an immediate reply. I ended nervously skimming through some of my text books and periodically checking back until I finally saw a response a few hours later.
Dear Corin,
So formal. I preferred “Mysterious Book Entity”.
The creature you speak of was not one of my forms, however, I do have a limited presence outside of the tower at this time. Communicating through this method has limitations, however, and I will not be able to speak with you regularly.
The creatures loosed from the tower were not under my command. Steps will be taken to ensure this does not occur again, but you must play your own role in fixing a problem you helped to create.
How much does Lyras know?
Yours,
Book
My hand trembled as I pondered my reply.
The Voice is nearby and he holds me responsible for part of this. That can’t be good.
I guess this more or less confirms that freeing those prisoners started this situation. Or at least contributed to it.
At least maybe I can finally get some more information, though.
I told her about Keras being loose in the tower, his conflict with Katashi, and your instructions for her to meet with you.
Good. Does she know about the book?
I haven’t told her, but she does seem to be watching me fairly closely. Should I tell her?
Under no circumstances. If she finds the book, I will handle the situation. For now, it is best if she simply meets me in the tower at her soonest convenience.
I bit my lip. Well, that’s not suspicious or anything. If she’s one of his contacts, why not share the existence of the book? What’s the significance of it?
I will keep the book hidden. I could use some guidance about this situation in general, though. Why was the tower sealed to prevent anyone from exiting? Is Katashi guiding those creatures? Are they looking for Keras? For Vera? What should I be doing if I see one of them?
Don’t worry, Corin. Lyras and I will handle things from here. If this is not resolved by the time you enter the tower again, I will provide you with further instructions. In the meantime, focus on making yourself strong enough to survive.
-Mysterious Book Entity
I set the book down. The chastising tone signaled a clear enough end to the conversation.
I hated being kept ignorant, especially when I was being blamed for something. If he, she, or it wanted to leave me out of things, I’d have to find my answers through other means.
Before even that, though, it was long past time I started properly protecting my room.
I spent the next few hours shopping. The first few things I picked up were mundane: a chain for the door to replace my wooden plank; tools to fasten the chain on; and bell to ring if the door was somehow opened.
After that, it was time to finally pick up some enchanting supplies.
As it turns out, I couldn’t afford many of them.
I had a total of twenty-two silver sigils after saving a little bit of money from the first week, my stipend from the subsequent two weeks, and the handful of coins that Professor Orden had given to me. As an Enchanter, I’d eventually get some materials to work with for class, but not until later in the year.
There were three enchanting supply shops on the main campus, and one in the “old university” area nearer to the tower. Of them, the ones on the main campus were all similarly priced. The one in the old university was more expensive, but had a broader variety. Apparently, climbers often sold their findings from the tower there, and the shopkeeper resold them at a profit.
I spent the most time in that old university shop, the “Climber’s Court”. The title came from the place’s function as a meeting place for Climbers, as well as serving as a general store for supplies needed for tower expeditions. Almost everything there was outside of my price range, but I spent four silver sigils on a lesser mental mana crystal in exchange for permission to copy down the runes on the magical items that were being sold there.
The shopkeeper, a retired climber named Lars Mantrake, was happy to regale me with the stories he’d heard from the adventurers who sold him the items — or, in some cases, the ones he’d picked up personally as a younger man.
He had a lot of inventory. That meant a lot of runes to copy.
I could have found most of the same runes in the books in the library, but there was a big advantage to studying them on actual items. By looking at the items with my attunement active, I could see the exact proportions of mana that were used in each individual rune. That made it much easier to conceptualize than just looking at “22.7 units of gray mana” in a stuffy tome.
By the end of that week, I’d managed to recharge my shield sigil by transferring mana out of the lesser mental mana crystal I’d purchased. It was a huge victory for me, the first time I’d successfully moved mana from something other than myself into an item.
Somehow Jin, being the creepy and amazing guy that he was, seemed to know about it immediately. He confronted me after classes at the end of the week.
“Corin. You have been studying creating magical items.”
I nodded. I was an Enchanter; it was a safe admission.
“I’d like you to make some for me.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. Commissions? I hadn’t even made an item on my own yet. “What sorts of items?”
He handed me a list.
There were nearly thirty items on it.
“Uh… I know I owe you a couple significant favors, but this may be a little bit beyond my abilities.”
“Why is that?” he asked, brow furrowing. He didn’t look angry, just some combination of confused and frustrated.
I wasn’t exactly going to admit I hadn’t managed to make an item completely by myself yet. That, while perfectly reasonable at this point in the year, sounded embarrassing in my head.
“I don’t have anywhere near enough materials, nor the means to afford them,” I said instead. That was just as true.
“I can secure materials. What do you need?”
That warranted raising both eyebrows, but quickly turned my attention back to the list.
Item that allows for creation of aura of shadows.
Item that allows for invisibility at will.
Item that removes sound from movements.
…
It wasn’t exactly how I would have would have listed things, but I understood the goals, at least.
These were not exactly simple things to build.
I read a little further, beginning to sense patterns.
Item that allows for the projection of an illusory self.
Item that allows for the detection of invisible targets.
Item that enables the wearer to see through walls.
Item that allows the wearer to see in the dark.
Most of the items were themed toward subterfuge and detection, but some of them were awfully specific. Specific like the kinds of things you’d be expected to demonstrate in a class for a certain attunement.
I folded the list. “You want to be able to fake having other attunements.”
“Yes.”
I was surprised by the confirmation. “…Why?”
“I’m taking the classes for three different attunements,” he admitted. “I must successfully meet the requirements for each of them.”
Well, that certainly helps support my “Jin is obviously in Spider Division” hypothesis.
It was tempting to ask him about Spider Division more directly, but I decided that it was probably more polite to be more discrete, at least for the moment. He would have volunteered that information if he’d wanted to.
I raised a hand to my chin, considering. “This is so you can keep it secret which attunement you actually have?”
“Good,” he said, voice wry. “You understand.” His lips twitched upward, but only for a moment before he looked away.
Well, I understood what he was going for, but I still didn’t understand why he needed to do that.
Something about his searching for Spider Division, maybe? I’d almost forgotten about that in the face of the much more serious problems at hand.
I tried looking at his aura with my attunement; I couldn’t resist. All it took was a blink.
Nothing. No aura.
Was it possible they’d let him into the school without an attunement?
I doubted that very seriously.
That meant he was either already wearing an item that blocked my vision — very possible — or he had an attunement that did the same. The Shadow Attunement, maybe.
“Okay. You said you could get materials, but this is going to require a lot of them. Some of these enchantments are not going to be trivial, and I may not be able to complete them all immediately. I don’t even know if they’re all possible at my level of expertise; some of them might be Carnelian-level or higher.”
“I understand,” he replied. He looked me in the eye, and his expression held something like relief as he said, “I trust you will complete this to the best of your ability.”
I… still hadn’t accepted, but sure. He was so earnest with the request that I couldn’t really refuse. “If I write down the materials that I need for each of these, you can get them somehow?”
“Yes,” he replied simply.
“How?”
He folded his hands in front of him. “My family is Dalen.”
I’d figured he was from another kingdom from his appearance, but that didn’t explain the resources in itself. “I’m not sure I understand. You’re from Dalenos. …Why does that matter?”
He shook his head once. “No. House Dalen.”
Oh, goddess. The royal family of Dalenos. “You’re… oh. Like a prince or something?”
He twisted his lips, looking uncomfortable. “No. Not precisely. I would rather not explain. Suffice to say that I can provide what you need for the items.”
That put things into a very different perspective. “…I don’t suppose you might be able to get any extra resources for my own projects, since I’m going to be making you so many things.”
He frowned. “You mean more materials?”
“Yes. To practice, and to make myself some items for my own classes.”
Jin looked away for a moment, his face considering. He turned his gaze back to me. “So long as you do not sell them. If you are making things for your own use, this would be acceptable.”
Huh. “That’s what I planned, but can I ask why you’d make that requirement?”
Jin nodded, looking serious. “The people here… you see the souls of monsters as currency. To us, they are the spoils of victory and sacrifice within the tower. To enchant is to bind the soul of an enemy for your benefit.” He paused, then his eyes widened and he hurried to continue, “This is an honorable task if done for one’s self, or for an ally.”
His expression hardened, “But to sell the spoils of bloodshed for coin? That’s an insult.”
He thinks monster cores are souls?
…actually, that makes an awful lot of sense.
If monsters are essentially mana constructs, and the core is the mana that remains when it dies… it sort of is analogous to a soul, isn’t it?
But the cores aren’t alive or intelligent — at least as far as I know. The core is more like a corpse than a soul.
Probably.
It was a little bit of a disturbing idea, but something I could investigate later.
I extended my hand and he clasped it on the wrist. A very traditional gesture. “I believe we have a deal.”
* * *
It took me another week just to look up the enchantments that Jin wanted, look up the necessary component runes, and then look up the materials necessary for said runes.
I couldn’t make more than two thirds of them, even if I had the materials. The enchantments were just far too far outside of my skill range.
When possible, I suggested alternatives for these. Instead of invisibility, a weak blur effect. Instead of entirely cancelling sound, a simple dampening enchantment, like the one Professor Orden had used outside my room.
It wasn’t satisfying to tell Jin that I couldn’t do most of them, but when I marked down that several of his requirements were Carnelian or even Sunstone level, he understood.
We worked out a new list from the alternates, resulting in a total of eight items I’d have to make.
It was during that process that I learned another important limitation: magical items had a tendency to interfere with other items in close proximity to them. It was something that made a lot of sense, since they’d have overlapping auras, but I hadn’t thought about it a great deal until I started considering the practical implications of trying to fake three different attunements at once.
It didn’t help that Jin wasn’t willing to tell me which attunement he actually had. That would have saved me a lot of work. But it made sense; anyone knowing was a vulnerability in his plan. I suspected the teachers had to know what he was up to, but they were a lot less likely to tell than a student.
By the middle of the fifth week of classes, Jin had delivered the materials for the first set of items he’d requested, as well as a handful of small crystals for me to use for my own experiments.
That handful of crystals would have cost, by my estimates, about eight times more than my meager stipend up to that point in the year. I was pretty pleased.
The enchanting itself, however, was a lot of work.
Having an attunement on a part of my body that I wasn’t willing to use made everything inefficient. Channeling the mana from a single small crystal into a rune only took me a few minutes, but it also drained some of the mana in my own hand, which was used to facilitate the transfer. That meant I needed to wait hours between each enchantment, just to recuperate the mana I was using.
Since my attunement was linked to my mind, that mana would have regenerated much faster — about four to five times faster, according to my books. But the more I thought about the possible side effects, the more I worried the harm I could cause if I did anything wrong.
It was the end of my fifth week when I finished my first enchantment, a copy of the standard university shield sigil, etched into the inside of my room’s door. I’d need to recharge it periodically, but it felt amazing to power a rune myself for the first time and see it flicker to life.
I was working magic. For the first time, I felt like my attunement was real, something to be proud of. I basked in that for a little while, even as my hand throbbed from the effort of moving the last bit of mana into the runes.
It was great finally having that simple defense in place, but it also made me think about how many other defenses were missing.
I had a lot of work to do.
* * *
Patrick and I were on our way to dueling class when I noticed something unusual. I stared at the machine blankly for a moment, not quite processing what I was seeing.
“Is that… an automobile?” I pointed at it as I spoke, and Patrick turned his head.
“Oh, wow. I’ve never seen one!”
We both walked a little closer to the horseless carriage, which was a simple open-roofed design. It was parked at the moment, and there was already a growing crowd of other students standing around it. It would have been easy to mistake for a normal carriage that simply didn’t have horses attached if it wasn’t for the metallic pipe jutting upward from a box on the rear.
We approached in spite of being dangerously close to being late to class. It was just too interesting to miss.
“…and this one’s engine is powered by a combination of three types of mana, primarily motion. Unfortunately, the operating drain is too fast for it to refill itself, so we have to periodically refill the mana chamber. We use liquid mana for this model, but they have a few crystal-run models in Caelford.”
The speaker was a tall, black-skinned gentleman with an attractive suit and wide-brimmed hat. He was leaning back against the vehicle, near the wheel. From his accent and skin, I assumed he was a Caelford native, which also helped to explain how he had the wondrous vehicle.
The Caelish were famous for their mechanical achievements, including inventing trains nearly a century ago, and more recently these automobiles. I’d heard stories that they even had ships that could sail through the skies… I was interested in seeing one someday.
How’d he get the automobile all the way here? Did he drive across the continent?
I’d never heard of anyone making the trek all the way from Caelford in a small vehicle like this. The broken lands between Caelford and Valia were inhospitable at best, and rarely traversed before the advent of the railway. Maybe he was an inventor and constructed one here?
I tried to get close enough to the engine area to inspect the runes, but there were too many other students in the way.
The speaker laughed. “I wasn’t expecting this much attention. You kids have good eyes. If you like what you see, I’d start saving up now. I’ll be bringing the first ones to market around the time you graduate. And if you want a slice of the profits, I am looking to hire a few extra hands…”
I blinked. He was going to be selling automobiles? That seemed like a positively decadent product. A vehicle that ran on liquid mana had to cost an exorbitant amount to both build and maintain. Still, I had to acknowledge that it sounded like a smart strategy if he could build them himself. The wealthy would probably bid extraordinary sums to be among the first few Valian citizens to own one. It would be a symbol of success, and my fellow nobles loved those.
He started handing out trade cards to some of the students. Those were yet another rarity, here in Valia. I’d seen a handful of them in my life, but printing them was too expensive to be worthwhile for most small scale merchants.
I took one and glanced at it. Most of the card was text, but it was accompanied by a colored image — another sign of great expense — of the gentleman himself holding a stylized key.
Aloras Corrington
Corrington Carriages
All models and varieties available
Early orders for our unique mana-carriages available — inquire at our office!
Offices at 12 Edinger Lane in Beaufort
I didn’t recognize the address, but Beaufort was the name of the city right outside of the academy. That helped explain why he was marketing his business right here. A number of the students and professors would be wealthy. If he was the first person producing automobiles in Valia, he stood to make a tremendous profit.
Corrington? That name sounds familiar somehow…
I marked his name down on a list of people I’d consider working for if I needed to make some money during my second year. A “mana engine” undoubtedly would require Enchanters to work on it, so I’d probably be a good candidate for one of the assistants he was looking for. He’d probably need alchemists to make fuel, too… Learning how to do that would be useful.
I was still daydreaming about how I’d go about making an engine from scratch when we arrived at dueling class. Fortunately, Lord Teft arrived even later than we did.
Unfortunately, he was also carrying a large unlabeled box. Teft had toned down his antics from directly assaulting students down to merely pairing us up for progressively stranger forms of practice, but from his smirk, I could tell this was probably going to be worse than usual.
Teft lowered the box, dropping it the last few inches for a heavy ‘thud’.
“Today’s lesson is one of the most critical things you will ever learn.”
Right, just like every other lesson. Got it.
Teft sat on top of the box, folding one leg over the other. “By now, unless you’re particularly daft, you’ve picked up on the fact that the world has a large number of different types of mana, and each attunement only has access to a few. In a duel, you need to understand how to properly counter any type of magic you encounter.” He thrummed his fingers on the box, scanning the class as he spoke.
“In most cases, your best solution when a spell is hurtling at you is to get out of the way. This is not always practical, however, especially in enclosed spaces or for particularly quick spells. Thus, it is important to know how to counter them. There is a simple rule that I expect you to commit to memory: ‘Like deflects like, opposites nullify.’”
That actually was interesting information, if it was true.
After a moment of silence, he waved a hand expectively. “Repeat the phrase, class. Like deflects like…”
“Like deflects like…,” we droned, out of sync. At least it wasn’t as bad as when we tried to sing the Valian anthem. I shuddered every time I remembered that cacophonic dirge.
“Horrible, but good enough, I suppose. Now, what does that actually mean? A sufficiently powerful spell constructed of the same type of mana as an attack will deflect the offending spell onto a different trajectory. A spell is weakened from the impact and may lose cohesion, dispersing entirely. This is why you rarely see simple bolts from dueling canes bouncing off of shields. If you want to guarantee that you’re going to nullify a spell entirely, however, you don’t use the same type of mana — you use the opposite.”
That was interesting. I’d always assumed some opposing mana types trumped others. I would have guessed that fire would evaporate water, but when I thought about it, I supposed that water was equally good at dousing fire. It probably came down to the magnitude of the effects themselves.
Teft stood up. “For countering spells of varying types to be practical, you will need to learn each type of mana and its opposite. I’m not going to teach you here. You can read a book. In the meantime, we’ll do something more practical—”
Someone had made the mistake of standing to indicate she had a question. It took me a moment to realize it was Marissa, who probably should have known better. Then again, she was also the most likely to survive if Teft didn’t like what she had to say.
“What happens if two spells collide that aren’t the same or opposites? Fire and lightning, for example.”
Teft groaned. “Not important for the current lesson, but if you must know, they generally explode. The interactions between non-opposing mana types are more complex. There are charts. But you shouldn’t be worrying about that, because you shouldn’t be using those types of mana to counter each other. Like deflects like, opposites nullify. There are precious few scenarios where you will need to know anything else.”
I could think of several.
I had only a very limited number of types of mana at my disposal, so knowing which ones I could use to counter enemy spells without detonating myself would be useful. Teft’s lessons, as usual, were more applicable to Shapers and Elementalists — both of whom had immediate access to more combat-focused magic than I did.
“Now, if we’re done with asking—”
Sera stood up.
“Ah, a Cadence has decided to disrupt the class again. Yes?”
I smirked. At least we were making ourselves stand out.
Sera matched my expression, apparently unbothered. “What’s the opposite of gray mana?”
Teft folded his arms. “Doesn’t exist. Now, questions are over. Onto the box.”
There’s no opposite to gray mana?
That sounded… wrong. I mean, if gray was some kind of combination of all the types of mana, maybe it was true. Still, it felt like everything should have an opposite. I’d have to look into that later.
The teacher stood, reaching down to a lock on the side of the box and flicking it. The lock came free, and he opened the top. “Line up. You’re each getting a new cane for today’s lesson.”
We formed a line, and then approached one at a time. Teft handed each of us a long cane, similar in style to his own. It had two runes on the handle, similar to a standard dueling cane, but no evidence of a blade within.
As he handed each of us a cane, he also paused to check the status of our shield sigils and refill them. He must have an absurd amount of mana if he can refill the sigils for an entire class without any sign of effort — at least a couple hundred? I’m going to have to research what the upper limits on human mana look like, that seems pretty high.
Once we each had a cane, he gave us a brief warning not to do anything with them yet, and then waved for us to follow him.
He led us to an unfamiliar single-story building of solid stone. Within was a large arena. It was probably about a hundred feet across, maybe thirty feet wide.
There were white lines painted on the floor, dividing the room into thin, rectangular sections like the lanes in a swimming pool. Or, more like a race track, given how thin they were. I didn’t think we’d be having a footrace in class but, given Teft’s unpredictability, I could never be sure.
On the far side of the room, I saw about a half a dozen people sitting behind a table. They looked a little older than us, but not old enough to be teachers. Either recent graduates or second year students, then. Judges, maybe?
I hadn’t had to do any dueling with a judge yet — not unless that first spar with Teft counted. It was a bad time for me to jump into a duel. Most students were going to have picked up a few tricks with their attunements by now, but I didn’t have any useful enchanted equipment yet. I was basically in the same situation that I would have been on day one, aside from maybe having a bit more mana from daily practice.
“Split up into two even groups and face each other. Team one is going to stand here.” He pointed to a line near one wall. “Team two should be opposite them. Each of you should be standing within a lane.”
As we followed his instructions, the people on the other side of the room stood from their chairs and started heading our way.
There was nothing saying I couldn’t be strategic, so I tried to position myself opposite from a student I thought I could handle. Unfortunately, virtually all the students I knew personally had an advantage against me. I paid more attention to students that I knew would be a major threat. I hadn’t bothered to examine the others as extensively.
I used that to narrow the field, setting myself opposite from an Elementalist who I hadn’t seen do anything impressive yet. Elementalists had a lot more firepower than I did, but ultimately they were among the most predictable duelists. I had to hope I could anticipate his actions sufficiently to compensate for my lack of flexibility.
Teft moved to the center of the room to speak. “In your hands is a practice version of a war cane. The lower rune is used to project a slow-moving orb of gray mana with about three times the power of a standard blast from a dueling cane. The upper rune charges the top portion of the war cane with gray mana, similar to the blade on a dueling cane, but not suitable for direct attacks. It has a different purpose. If you haven’t figured it out by now, you haven’t been paying attention.”
Deflection.
He’s setting us up to play a ball game with real weapons.
As dangerous as that sounded, it actually made me more confident. If the whole idea was to project and deflect things from the cane, that meant we probably wouldn’t be using our attunements, which would significantly improve my odds.
“The rules are simple. Once we begin, you will commence firing at the team opposite you. You can attempt to deflect your opponents’ orbs with your own, or by activating your cane and physically knocking them out of the way. No offensive spells, this is cane practice. Your only weapons are the canes from the box. You can, however, use any defensive abilities at your disposal.”
He turned around, looking at the other side of the room. “You’re disqualified once you’re hit by three orbs. When that happens, step to the safety of the ring. The judges,” he pointed at the older students, “will remind you if you’ve taken three hits. I will be activating a barrier that will prevent any stray projectiles from exiting the battlefield and hitting bystanders.”
Teft began walking out of the field. “You’ll be scored both based on hits you land, deflections, and how long you last. Survival is the most important of the three.”
Lord Teft pointed to the boundary of a lane. “One last thing. You must remain in your lane until someone adjacent to you has been disqualified, at which point you may move if you chose. Oh, and if I didn’t make this clear enough before — you’re all starting at once.”
I stared blankly for a second after that line, picturing what was going to happen as soon as two lines of twenty students opened fire and began deflecting projectiles.
Utter. Chaos.
I should have guessed that Teft’s idea of dueling practice couldn’t possibly be as simple as a duel.
From the murmuring around me, I could tell that others shared my opinion. The student on my left was clinging to his cane like it was the last piece of driftwood in the ocean.
Oh, Patrick was on my right. That was good.
He nodded in acknowledgement when I noticed him, looking grim.
I was displeased when I realized that Marissa was on the opposite end of the field.
With defensive skills allowed, attunements like hers had an advantage. She could potentially deflect projectiles with a bare hand without needing to rely on a cane or her barrier. I didn’t know her personal capabilities, but some Guardians could cover their entire bodies in mana. If she could do that, she’d be practically invincible in this test.
I didn’t have much more time to assess the competition. Teft stepped out of the lines, knelt down, and muttered a few words. The lines behind us marking a rectangular field began to glow, illuminating the barrier he’d activated. There were no barriers between the lanes themselves, though.
The lanes implied that we were expected to start out by firing at the person directly across from us, but that wasn’t necessarily the best strategy. Most people would probably fixate on their direct “opponent” on the opposite side of the lane. Maybe I could get Marissa out early by taking her by surprise…
But I didn’t want to risk it. There were better gambles to make than trying to attack the strongest opponent immediately.
“Begin.”
The word was too soft to be an appropriate signal for the insanity that followed.
I didn’t bother trying to make a first strike. Instead, I shifted my feet into a dueling stance, presenting a smaller profile for my target. As he raised his cane and fired, I flicked the upper rune on my cane. The sharp pain that accompanied the activation indicated that it was taking more mana than my normal cane did, but that was to be expected.
I didn’t expect how quickly the glowing sphere would be coming at me, though.
It was slower than a dueling cane’s blast, certainly, but it wasn’t slow. I raised the cane to try to parry, but my reaction was stunted by the pain.
The sphere impacted harmlessly against the wall on my right, hopelessly off-target.
I was so relieved that I entirely missed the other sphere, coming from a completely different opponent. It was inches from hitting me when a blast from my right knocked it clear out of the way and into one of the sides of the arena.
I turned to my right, giving Patrick an incredulous look. He was already back to facing forward, in a dueling position of his own.
“Focus up, Corin. You can thank me later.”
I gritted my teeth, nodded, and slipped back into my dueling stance. I didn’t think I’d ever seen Patrick look so serious about anything — and if even he was taking this seriously, I had to do the same.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a moment, and then exhaled.
Mana glowed around me, almost blindingly bright — but with my attunement active, everything felt clearer, easier to take in. As the energies surged around me, I felt aware of the spheres that were coming my way, even if I couldn’t see them. With a simple flick of my wrist, I sent an incoming sphere out of my way… and directly into a team member on my left.
“Minus one point from Corin Cadence for friendly fire,” a student intoned behind me.
Resh.
The student that I’d hit rubbed at his arm, giving me a nasty look. Fortunately, it wasn’t someone I knew.
“Sorry!” I shouted. I meant it, too. I might have even blushed.
Okay, taking this seriously, step two. No more hitting my team.
My direct opponent fired another projectile at me, this time much more accurately. I stepped to the side, firing a sphere at the floor inches in front of him. Just as I suspected, the floor was charged with mana to prevent it from being damaged. The sphere bounced off of that mana and right into my opponent’s chest.
He had a look of utter shock as it slammed into him, staggering back a step at the impact.
Before he’d recovered, I’d fired three more orbs. Taking turns? Please.
There were no turns in war.
Of my three newly-fired spheres, only one connected with him. I deflected another two from other opponents in the meantime, sending them as close to my opponent as I could, but failing to get them quite at the right angle.
I saw a projectile headed for Patrick, and it looked like it had slipped past his notice. Spinning on my heels, I fired a blast at the orb… and missed entirely.
My attack did manage to get very near to hitting Roland. On the positive side, Roland was on the opposite team.
On the negative side, he was looking at me now, and he was looking unamused.
On the considerably more negative side, he was carrying two canes — one in either hand.
I wish I’d thought of that.
The hail of spheres that came my way in the following moments was nothing short of terrifying.
I managed to dodge or deflect six, then seven, and then eight of them before one finally slipped through. It hit me in the shoulder with enough force to send a surge of numbness down my arm. I very nearly dropped my cane.
Fortunately, Roland seemed satisfied by that, turning away from me to continue his onslaught on the next opponent who was unlucky enough to draw his ire.
I ducked, nursing my numb arm, trying to assess my situation.
My direct opponent was gone. I was momentarily confused before I remembered that anyone else could have hit him while I wasn’t looking.
A further assessment told me that nearly half of the field had been eliminated. I felt a little less bad after that, but I still hadn’t made up for hitting that ally of mine. I glanced toward him, considering trying to help him to repay the debt, but he was already out of the ring.
It was hard to tell at a glance, but I was pretty sure our team was losing. Unsurprising, given the juggernauts on the other team. Goddess, even Sera was over there, standing a couple lanes away from Roland.
The lane to my left was empty now. I had room to move if I wanted to, but having Patrick next to me felt like an advantage.
How could I use that?
I stepped out of my lane without thinking to dodge an incoming sphere, only afterward realizing that I wasn’t sure if I could step back into my original position without breaking the rules.
Probably?
I glanced back at a judge, deflecting an errant projectile that was approaching at the corner of my vision. “Hey, can I walk freely between my old lane and this one now that this guy is out?”
“Yep, sure can.” The judge nodded.
I glanced at Patrick, then back to the judge. “The other guy adjacent to him is gone. Does that mean he can move around, including into my old lane?”
The older student frowned, scratching his chin. “Yeah, sure, I guess he use your old lane if he wants to.”
Good enough for me.
I stepped back into my original lane. “Patrick, we’re doubling up.”
He glanced to the empty lane on his right, and then back to me, his expression still focused. “Got it.”
He stepped into the same lane I was standing in, and we shifted our stances, facing outward at diagonals. We were limiting each other’s mobility, but we had complete coverage for deflecting enemy projectiles this way.
I made use of that almost immediately, deflecting the first projectile that approached us and scoring an unlikely hit on someone on the opposite side.
After that, I saw a couple of people staring at us, but fewer seemed to want to attack.
Good.
My right hand was getting sore from the mana I’d been putting into attacking, and I could tell that the other students were suffering similarly, slowing down their attacks and picking them more tactically. I swapped the cane to my left hand, taking a shot at a lone student on the far left of the opposite line.
It missed, but the student dodged directly into Patrick’s orb, fired only a moment later.
“Nice,” I called.
Another orb flashed into my perception nearby and bounced off the floor right in front of me.
I jumped right over it, growling at someone stealing my earlier trick, and looked at where it had come from.
Sera, obviously. Standing in the same lane as Roland. They had a different formation, though. He had his arms out to the left and right, cane in either hand, while she stood directly in front of him with her cane blocking the center.
She winked at me.
Oh, you want to play?
I was so distracted leveling my cane at Sera that I completely missed the orb coming in from my left. It smashed into my side, knocking me into Patrick. We straightened ourselves after a moment, and I noted that Marissa was the one who had launched the shot.
“One more point against Corin,” a judge announced.
“Focus,” Patrick reminded me.
I grumbled, falling back into my defensive stance as more blasts flashed around us.
It was less than another minute before we were practically the only members of our team left standing. The other team still had seven people, including Marissa, Sera, and Roland. Patrick and I had two other students with us, but they were far away and looked exhausted.
We needed to even the odds somehow. Even in a defensive position, we were far too vulnerable to concentrated fire.
In retrospect, it was shocking I hadn’t tried this earlier. “The lanes go all the way to the other side.”
I didn’t need to say anything else; Patrick had always been adept at picking up my lines of thought. Far better than my family, at least.
“On three?” Patrick asked.
“Resh that, on one. Go.”
We bolted.
A few orbs flew lazily through the air past us. I had to deflect one that actually came close to landing, but we crossed the room in a handful of seconds. We switched to back-to-back positions, facing the opposition.
Marissa and two others on my side. Roland, Sera, and two others on his.
Still bad odds, but now every projectile that didn’t hit us had a high chance of passing us and hitting members of their own team.
Our own remaining team members used that window to open fire on the people near Marissa, taking one of them out of the fight. I joined the assault, firing at Marissa’s unguarded side.
Without looking, she punched the orb out of the air, sending it across the arena to fade into nothing.
Okay, new tactic. Never fight her ever.
Patrick staggered into me, apparently having taken a hit. All four opponents on his side were looking at us. They took shots one at a time, conserving their mana while keeping us under pressure.
Sera yawned when I looked at her.
I fired a blast at the floor in front of her, much like she had with me. As she moved to deflect it, I shot another blast at the side of the same sphere, bouncing it right into Roland.
He fell to the side, colliding with Sera. Patrick took the opening to fire at the pair, but one of their teammates managed to fire a blast that knocked his projectile aside.
Teamwork, my greatest asset, my greatest weakness.
I looked at our remaining ally on the other side of the ring. I probably should have invited her to come join us, but she was far enough away that I didn’t know if she’d reach us in time.
As it happened, she only lasted a few more moments where she was. Marissa bounced a pair of orbs off the ceiling, which I hadn’t even considered, and took our last companion completely unware.
Patrick swapped hands, and then unleashed a flurry of quick blasts at our closest opponent, Sera. The torrent of attacks was too fast to effectively deflect, so she and Roland stepped aside — probably without realizing that they had been obscuring the existence of the orbs until it was too late for the people behind them to notice.
One reacted in time, only clipped by a single sphere. The other took hits from four in a row, and I saw his shield visibly crack before a judge reached in and pulled him right out of the ring.
I whistled in appreciation, but Patrick only shook his head. “Think that was probably the last I’ve got in me. Arms feel like they’re on fire.”
I wasn’t in great shape myself, but nowhere near that bad. Then again, I’d been dueling daily since I was old enough to hold a stick. Not many people had that advantage.
I tried to bounce a sphere off the ceiling to hit Marissa, but I missed her entirely. Aiming them was trickier than it seemed.
I did, however, manage to dodge the attack from the student behind her. It missed Patrick and slammed into Sera.
She glowered at her teammate as she stepped out of the ring.
Okay, Sera’s out. That’s just four against two now, we can do this.
“Eyes!” Patrick shoved me, then stumbled. For an instant, I thought he’d made a classic heroic sacrifice, but the orb had missed him as well.
“Sorry!” I spun in time to knock one of Roland’s spheres back at him, but Roland simply batted it back out of the way.
Patrick and I settled back into our defensive, back-to-back stance. “Ideas?” he asked.
If he’s out of mana, and our opponents are pretty close, we could try to run them out. But Marissa’s showing no signs of stopping, and I don’t think we’ve even scratched her.
Our opponents who were furthest away — Marissa on my side, someone I didn’t recognize on Patrick’s — were walking forward in their lanes, toward the middle of the room. That meant they were taking themselves out of the direct lines of fire of their teammates, nullifying one of our few advantages.
It did give me an idea, though.
The student that was on my side could barely hold up his cane. It was charged, but I didn’t expect him to take more than one more shot, if that.
I glanced at Patrick, pointed at the student, and said, “Melee.”
We rushed him.
With no students in the lanes between us, we were free to roam… so there was no rule preventing Patrick from using his cane to knock the other student’s weapon out of the way. Nor was there any rule against me point-blank blasting the poor guy with my own.
It only took one shot to take him out of the arena. Patrick took a hit in the back from Roland in the meantime, but he was still standing.
He grinned at me. “Nice. Now what?”
Marissa was maneuvering carefully on my side, her left hand glowing with a visible aura.
On our opposite side, Roland and the other remaining student were standing still, weapons poised and ready.
Charging Marissa would be suicide — Guardians are made for close combat. Rushing Roland would let her shoot at us from behind, and I don’t think we’d close that distance before she could hit us. We could make a fighting retreat to Roland’s side, but as soon as it’s obvious we’re angling for them they’d probably attack…
How can we overwhelm them from here?
“Patrick, do you think you’re recovered enough for another shot?”
His expression was pained, but he nodded. “I think so. If I have to.”
I whispered something in his ear.
He extended his cane toward Marissa and raised his thumb above the rune. If this went badly, Marissa was the least likely opponent to be seriously hurt.
I grabbed onto his cane with my left hand. “Now.”
We pushed the rune at the same time.
I felt the mana surging through me and, for the first time, I felt that connection extend all the way through to someone else. Patrick.
We were each giving it enough mana to power the blast individually. I gave it more, pushing my mana through, just like I had with my dueling cane.
I felt the mana that was already charging the cane, grabbed that, and pulled it into rune.
The sphere we produced was tremendous, probably three feet in diameter. It whirred through the air, directly at Marissa.
Marissa slammed her cane into the incoming orb, but her weapon bounced right off it. The ball impacted with her shield, leaving glowing cracks as it continued to push, until she slammed a fist through the center of the orb and dispersed it into tiny fragments.
“What are you about, Corin?” She lowered her hand, shaking it out a few times, then sent us an outraged glare. “You tryin’ to kill me?”
I winced. Maybe that attack had been overkill. I hadn’t meant to upset her. “Uh. Um… No. Sorry—”
She replied with a pair of blasts: one for Patrick; one for me. Both landed on target.
Lord Teft clapped as we walked out of the ring. “Excellent, excellent. I haven’t seen a show like that in… days, maybe?” He shook his head. “Anyway, good ingenuity there. Roland, twelve points for asking for a second cane and lasting until the end.”
That second cane was a great idea. Wish I’d thought of that.
Teft turned toward another student and continued. “Ten points to Jonathan for lasting to the end as well. Marissa, ten points for you as well, for your overall performance. And Corin…”
Marissa stomped over to Teft. “Yer gonna reward him for whatever that was?”
Teft chuckled. “I said the only weapons you could use were canes. I didn’t say how you had to use them. Overcharging a cane would be illegal in a number of events, true, and it probably should have been a rule here. But it wasn’t. So, five points to Corin for cheating and getting away with it.”
She folded her arms. “And yer not worried ‘bout what would have happened if he broke my shield?”
“In a worst case? You’d be feeling very numb right now. These are practice war canes, Miss Callahan. The spells they emit are safer than normal dueling canes, and even those are barely a threat. If you have concerns about the safety of my class, however, you are always welcome to leave.”
“No,” she replied through clenched teeth. “I’m not leavin’.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’ve somethin’ different in mind.”
* * *
After spending a few minutes nursing my numbed limbs, I left the class.
I hadn’t meant to get on Marissa’s bad side. In fact, she was one of the few students that truly interested me. On my way out, I realized that just apologizing and explaining what I was thinking would probably help, if I had the courage to do it.
So I walked right back to class and did it immediately.
I caught Marissa as she was tossing her cane in the box.
“Hey, uh… Marissa.”
She spun, her jaw tightening as she saw me. “What is it, Corin?”
I raised my hands defensively. “I came back here to apologize.”
She tilted her head to the side. “What? You making a joke?”
I waved my upraised arms back and forth in denial. “Uh, not joking. I’m not good at this, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to cheat back there, or to do something that looked like it might actually hurt you. Honestly, I didn’t know exactly how dangerous it was, so I really shouldn’t have done that even if it did turn out well, but—”
“Stop.” She frowned. “Okay. Yer apologizing. And yer right, that was stupid. But… Well, you’re actually apologizing? That’s… well, it’s new.”
I raised an eyebrow. “New?”
Marissa brushed her hands across her uniform, looking down. “Yer a noble, aren’t ya? You know I’m not, right?”
I nodded. “I mean, I’d guessed that, but I don’t see how it’s a big deal.”
“Do you know how frequently nobles apologize for doing somethin’ mean to someone who ain’t one of them?
“I, uh, hadn’t really thought about it. But from your reaction, I’m going to gather the answer is ‘not very frequently’?”
She laughed. It was a short laugh, one that rang of bitterness. “Might be understating that a bit.” She looked up at me, letting her eyes meet mine. I didn’t look away. “Why’d ye do it? Why go after me like that?”
I blinked. “It was nothing personal, if that’s what you were thinking. You were clearly too strong defensively for normal attacks to work. The other two were too far away for us to reach.”
Marissa frowned. “But I saw ye looking at me, even before the match started.”
“Sure, I was looking for the toughest opponents, figuring out how to crack your defenses or work around you.”
“Toughest… opponents?”
I tapped my forehead. “See this? I have the great honor and prestige of having one of the worst attunements for dueling. The only chance I have to succeed here is through strategy, at least until I can throw together some items. And a big part of that strategy is learning how to deal with the strongest fighters we have. At the moment, that’s you, Roland, and maybe that Jeremiah guy who only shows up to about a third of our classes.”
She chuckled. “Not sure I agree that he should make the list. Not sure I agree that I should make the list — but, I, uh, guess I’m flattered?”
I nodded. “Anyway, I really am sorry that I offended you, and if there’s something I can do to make up for it, let me know.”
Marissa raised a hand to her mouth, looking stymied. I wasn’t sure why I was affecting her so much. Clearly I had miscalculated somehow, but the response wasn’t entirely bad, at least.
“I, uh, I… I’ll think about it. I think I should go? I should go.” Marissa half-nodded, half-bowed, and then disappeared into the distance.
* * *
When I arrived back at my room, there was a letter waiting for me. It had a runic seal, one designed to break only when touched by the intended recipient. Opening the letter before the seal was deactivated would incinerate the document. The offender’s hands weren’t likely to come out unsinged either.
I hadn’t seen one in years; they were expensive. Now that I was an Enchanter, I’d have to learn how to make them at some point.
I pressed my thumb to the seal. It cracked open, allowing me to pluck the letter from within the envelope.
My Dear Corin,
I strongly advise you to stay as far away from Keras Selyrian as possible.
I am aware of your personality, however, and I expect my counsel will go unheeded.
Keras Selyran was last seen heading toward the Edrian border. We believe he has recently emerged from the Serpent Spire. I’m unaware of if he completed his objectives within.
This is a delicate matter, and I will trust that you will be discrete with this information.
If you truly are already involved in this situation, I would like to speak with you as soon as possible. Unfortunately, I have urgent business in Dalenos, and I will not be able to visit you for the next several months. I entreat you to display the utmost caution until we are able to speak directly.
One final time: please be careful.
You will be in my thoughts.
-Your Mother
My hand tightened as I finished reading the letter, crumpling the page.
It was, perhaps, my own fault that the first words I’d gotten from my mother in years were chastising me for delving into danger.
A part of me had hoped for more. Something meaningful.
There were so many things I’d wanted to say to my mother over the years. So many questions I’d wanted to ask.
Why had she left? Was I so inferior to Tristan that it wasn’t worth staying?
Now that I knew about Sera’s potential heritage, I wondered if that was a factor. Had Father been sleeping with another woman? Had Tristan’s failure just been the last in a series of arguments?
For years, I’d wanted to know the truth, but it never seemed like the right time to ask.
Perhaps more importantly, I was afraid of what the answer might be.
Was it my weakness that had driven my parents apart?
I didn’t think I could handle that.
So, I didn’t focus on finding the truth. I told myself I had a better approach, one that would reunite my family rather than just giving me potentially painful knowledge.
I had to bring my brother back. He was the only one who could help mend our wounds.
I had some information about Keras to work with now, at least.
I destroyed the letter.
If Keras was heading toward the Edrian border, that certainly added to the hypothesis that he was working with Edria somehow. I didn’t have any good means to look into that immediately.
I went to try find Professor Orden, but she wasn’t around. I tried a few more times over the following days, only to find learn from Professor Teft that Orden had gone into the tower.
I’d have to get answers elsewhere for a while. For the moment, I had more pressing matters to attend to. I needed to make sure I was ready for the upcoming test; I would be no help to anyone if I failed out of the academy.
Chapter XI — Enchantment
Professor Conway looked exhausted. He’d lost the usual effortless spring to his movements and deep bags were visible under his eyes, even from where I was sitting in the third row of the class.
“Since our last class was interrupted by an unsightly incident,” he began, not needing to explain to anyone what incident he was referring to, “I believe it would be pertinent to pick up where we left off. That said, our missed time will need to be covered to ensure we can cover the entire syllable, and I’m confident few of you would want an extra day of class. Thus, I will be consolidating the second half of our last lecture with today’s discussion. I will only have time to touch on each subject briefly.”
Conway pulled a chair behind the lectern and sat down, something I’d never seen him do in any of his previous classes. He was generally one of our most physical professors, always moving, frequently drawing diagrams.
It had been a full week since our last class had been interrupted. Was that still what was bothering him, or was it something else?
Did he know something that we didn’t?
I didn’t have enough information to speculate in any detail. I tried to push the questions out of my mind and put some effort into listening to the lecture.
“There are two main things that set the attunements apart from one another. The first of these factors is that each attunement gives you access to additional types of mana.”
Normally, this would be when he’d stand up and start drawing on the board, but — he didn’t this time. He just glanced around the classroom, then continued to speak. “As you already know, everyone has gray mana, and that gray mana has different properties depending on where you draw it from in the body. There are eight other types of mana that attunements on Valia can control. Every individual attunement gives you access to two of the eight.”
He paused for a moment, taking a drink from a glass of water. “We have eight attunements in Valia. Every attunement has a primary mana type and a secondary mana type that it provides. The primary mana type tends to be easier to use, but nevertheless you will find some people who focus on the secondary type.”
“For example, as a Guardian, my primary mana type is Enhancement. This type of mana is typically used to bolster physical characteristics, but it can also be added to other spells in order to stabilize or improve their functions. A Guardian’s secondary mana type is life. Most Guardians only learn to use this to rapidly recover from injuries and exertion, but there are some unusual Guardians who have learned to manipulate life mana in a way similar to a Mender, giving them the ability to heal others. This is more common for Guardians with lung or heart marks.”
I nodded along with much of the class. This was interesting material; I knew that every attunement gave users new types of mana to work with, but I hadn’t realized that it was always two types.
Actually, I was pretty sure it wasn’t. Didn’t Elementalists have three types of spells?
On a rare whim, I stood up to ask a question.
Professor Conway turned his head toward me. “Yes, Master Cadence?”
Dozens of heads turned toward me. I froze up for a moment before taking a breath and regaining my composure. “Don’t Elementalists have three types of spells? Fire, air, and lightning?”
“Ah, a good question. You’re getting a bit ahead of me; that would get into the second distinguishing characteristic of each attunement. You may sit down.”
I sat.
Conway continued. “The second thing that sets each attunement apart is how their two types of mana can be combined to create a unique result. For example, an Elementalist’s lightning is a combination of air mana, fire mana, and a bit of gray mana that serves to keep the mixture from detonating. Every attunement derives a unique function from the combination of two mana types that their attunement provides.”
Another student stood up. “If I got fire and air mana from two different attunements, could I still combine them to make lightning?”
That’s a way better question than the one I asked.
“Yes,” Conway responded, “In that case, you most likely could. Some of the so-called ‘unique’ characteristics of each attunement can be achieved in that way, but there may be exceptions. Some combinations of multiple attunements are so rare that we have not been able to prove if they can be combined at all.”
I scratched my chin, wondering which combinations were the rarest — and how I might obtain some of them in the future. Would it be possible to get four attunements with completely different mana types and cover all the types of mana? I’d never heard of anyone with that many attunements… aside from the visages, of course. And possibly Keras?
I still had no idea how Keras was as powerful as he seemed to be.
“I’ve already mentioned that the Guardian’s most unique characteristic is our ability to control our shroud immediately. Today, we’ll go over the mana types and characteristics for each attunement. This will be a brief overview of each type. More details can be found in your books.”
Conway rubbed his forehead and sighed, then pushed himself out of the chair and walked over to the chalk board. I was glad to see him up and moving again, at least, even if he did look exhausted.
He drew the Elementalist Attunement symbol first.
“As Master Cadence mentioned, the Elementalist commands fire and air mana. Their unique characteristic is the ability to combine these two types of mana to form lightning, which is often considered the most formidable form of attack magic. While fire spells are often popular for being able to cover large areas with a single spell, lightning is generally preferable in duels. It’s too fast for most attuned to defend against it.”
Unless you’re Marissa, I remembered with a grin. She was amazing.
“Next is the Diviner.” He drew another symbol.
“They primarily use mental mana and focus on information gathering spells. Their secondary mana type is enhancement, which in their case is usually used to improve concentration, retain memories, and empower spells to break through anti-divination defenses. Diviners are unique in their ability to create memory crystals, objects that can store a copy of someone’s memories. These are extraordinarily useful for both investigation and communication.”
Huh. Those did sound useful.
“Diviners are commonly confused with similar attunements from other regions. Diviners tend to focus on learning and preserving raw information. The Analyst Attunement, found among our allies in Caelford, is focused more on enhancing the senses and digging deeper into existing knowledge. The Seer Attunement from Dalenos is focused on remotely viewing distant locations, something only the most experienced Diviners can even attempt.”
I loved hearing about the analogues to our attunements in other cultures. I knew there were similar attunements in other kingdoms, but I didn’t know exactly how close they were. I resolved to pick up a book on the subject sometime in the second semester when I had a bit more free time.
“Next, the Shaper.”
He drew an all-too-familiar symbol representing the attunement I’d always wanted.
I was starting to work through my bitterness about it. I was actually enjoying learning about enchanting, but there was a part of me that still wondered if I had failed by not earning the attunement my father wanted me to.
“The Shaper’s primary mana type is earth, and their secondary type is transference. While they are best known for being able to manipulate existing spells and reshape mana, this is not actually their unique capability. It is merely a consequence of their capable use of transference mana. Instead, their unique ability is to spontaneously construct and manipulate objects made out of mana.”
“While attunements from other kingdoms with earth mana can create solid objects, they lack the Shaper’s flexibility to create, move, and reshape such an object instantly. Since Shapers practice this process so frequently, they are also generally the best at reshaping and altering other spells by using their transference mana. This makes Shapers devastating in mage against mage combat.”
The professor continued with another drawing.
“Next, the Shadow. They are the only local attunement capable of using umbral mana — more commonly just called ‘shadow mana’. This is used for concealment, as well as dampening the senses of others. Their secondary mana type is enhancement, which they use in conjunction with their umbral mana to enhance their physical characteristics and senses. This unique pairing of mana types allows the Shadow to create solid illusions, making the Shadow more dangerous than most illusion-focused attunements.”
He turned back toward the class. “It’s worth being aware that a good deal of our testing at this school requires illusions. While most of these are made by Shadows, we also employ a number of Illusionists. Illusionists are Dalenos’ answer to our Shadows. They are capable of creating much more sophisticated effects. For example, they are much better at concealing wide areas of terrain.”
“Edria and Caelford have attunements that alter the mind, rather than simply creating visible images. Edrian Mesmers can alter emotions and perceptions. They often use this to lure others into trusting them. They are also capable of making others ignore their presence by tricking our minds into believing they are a harmless part of the background.”
Conway took a breath. “Caelford’s equivalents are Controllers. We have a few Controllers on campus for specific tests. Controllers typically can only affect one person at a time, but they are capable of directly influencing someone else’s behavior. For this reason, Controllers are commonly employed for trials and interrogation. In your second year, you will work with Controllers to learn how to resist magical compulsion.”
That sounded like an interesting exercise… and an attunement I never wanted to go up against.
Conway drew another symbol.
“Menders are perhaps the best known of all of Valia’s attuned. Their primary mana type is life, but it is their secondary mana type — earth — that helps distinguish them from other healing attuned. While there are several attunements that can heal flesh and muscle, only Menders have the combination of mana types necessary to heal broken bones. The ability to treat broken bones makes Menders popular all over Kaldwyn. In the Six Years War, Menders wore unique uniforms that allowed them to traverse battlefields unharmed, offering succor to both sides.”
I’d be shocked if no one ever used a Mender uniform to infiltrate enemy lines. Interesting.
Professor Conway drew the next symbol.
It might have been my imagination, but it looked like his hand was trembling. “Summoners. Among the most unusual of attunements. They utilize air and transference mana as means for transportation-focused magic. While this can be used to summon creatures, their name is somewhat misleading, as there are other attunements that are capable of moving creatures from place to place.”
“Their ability is to form lasting bonds with monsters, which provide the Summoner with unique capabilities — including the ability to conjure copies of that monster that follow their commands. These bonds extract a toll on the Summoner, however. Every bond the Summoner maintains takes up a portion of the Summoner’s mana supply, leaving that mana unavailable while the bond is retained.”
I followed the explanation with little trouble. I knew most of it already, but it was interesting to hear Conway’s perspective.
He drew the most interesting rune — my own — last.
“Enchanters are the foundation of our technological progress. Their primary mana type is transference, followed by mental mana. They are able to use this combination to transfer mana into and out of objects, something no other attunement is capable of doing directly. There are other attunements with similar functions, but none with the flexibility to manipulate any form of mana into an item. Thus, they are perhaps the single greatest reason that Valia continues to rival much larger kingdoms, such as Edria and Dalenos, as a military power. Every citizen in our kingdom benefits from enchantments, from the environmental barrier over our city to rain-producing rods on our farmlands.”
That… actually sounded pretty amazing.
I left that day’s class feeling better about my attunement than I ever had, and more motivated than ever to get some real enchanting work done.
It was time to finally put some time and effort into learning how to be an Enchanter.
* * *
By the end of the ninth week of classes, each of my walls, my roof, and my ceiling had a protection enchantment. The metal chain on the door had another protection enchantment.
I couldn’t have possibly afforded the materials for that many enchantments, but I didn’t have to. I had the requisite types of mana to charge the runes myself. I still wasn’t comfortable using my mental mana, but I’d gotten more used to converting the mana in my hand into a usable form. That was slow and inefficient, so I used a couple mana crystals to speed up the process. All in all, it cost me about eight coins to finish warding the room. Not a bad deal.
The types of enchantments I could do on my own were pretty limited. I was only capable of converting my mana into the types my body already naturally used. If I wanted to convert mana from my hand into mental mana, I’d focus on the mana in my hand and “command” it to change into the type of mana I already had in my head. It was pretty awkward at first, but I acclimated to it over time.
Even for the types of mana I was able to provide on my own, I couldn’t manage very powerful enchantments. I needed to infuse all the necessary mana into a rune in a single session or the enchantment would fail. That meant I was limited to enchantments with relatively low mana requirements.
The next thing I worked on was an anti-teleportation enchantment that covered my entire room. Initially, I’d assumed defending against teleportation would be difficult, but it turned out that teleportation itself was so complex that a ward just needed to throw it off slightly to make it fail. My particular defensive rune would just nudge the teleport slightly off course, specifically to outside of my room rather than inside it.
None of those defenses would be sufficient against a foe on Professor Orden’s level, but the next time she examined the place, I’d be a lot better prepared.
I finished four of Jin’s item requests in the same time frame.
They were all pretty simple.
The first was a bracelet that could make him invisible for about a minute before it needed to be recharged.
Next, another bracelet that could make an illusory duplicate of him that moved about ten feet to his right and mirrored his movements. It had great synergy with the invisibility bracelet.
Third, a necklace that could be activated to dampen any sounds he made. It’d work for suppressing the noise from firing his guns, too.
The last was a ring he could use to generate a small illusion based on what he was thinking about. I was particularly proud of this one; it was the closest thing to actually mimicking the function of an attunement of any of the ones I’d built. It had a great deal more flexibility than the others.
I made him a stronger shield sigil, too, which he hadn’t requested. He accepted the gift with a surprising degree of gratitude, bowing deeply at the waist.
“You’ve gone beyond what I requested. Thank you.” When he straightened, his eyes shone with an infectious good cheer.
He delivered more supplies to me shortly after that.
I was getting more confident in my overall enchanting abilities at that point, so I decided to make a couple more items for myself. My resources were still pretty limited. Jin had helped considerably, but he was still only giving me small and medium cores, and the majority of them were a handful of specific types: mental mana, image mana, transference mana, and gray mana.
The attunements he wanted me to “fake” for him were the Shadow, Diviner, and Guardian. Since he was giving me “extras” of the same materials used for those, I could build some additional items of those same types for myself.
I headed toward the old university grounds to pay Lars a visit at the Climber’s Court. I had some ideas I wanted to ask him about.
From what I’d heard, the original campus had been dedicated to direct study of the tower, so it had been as close as physically possible. After the first time that monsters had escaped the tower and attacked the nearby students, the old university had been evacuated and the new campus had been built.
Funny, considering the monsters had zero difficulty in flying over the new university’s defenses and getting to us.
The older buildings had been repurposed for any number of different things. Overflow housing for students that didn’t fit in the dorms, a few scattered remaining research facilities, and dozens of buildings dedicated to serving the needs of climbers who entered and exited the tower regularly.
The Climber’s Court thrived on that close proximity to the tower. Other magic shops might have been cheaper, but Lars was convenient.
The front room was littered with tables and shelves carrying dozens of items. Prices weren’t listed; Lars consulted a list behind the counter before buying or selling anything. I assumed that was a tactical move so that he could vary his prices on a per-customer basis.
The retired climber was up on a ladder when I came in, putting a vase on the top of a bookshelf that was laden with non-book items. I didn’t know why anyone would ever want to put a vase on the top of a shelf, but he managed to get it up there without incident, waving to me as I closed the door behind me.
It was early in the day, but there were already a couple other customers. A boy with glasses was thumbing through a stack of books on a table on the left side, muttering something to himself. A blonde woman was tossing a glowing dagger up and down, apparently testing the weight.
But it was the masked swordsman that caught my attention.
I felt a moment of panic before I processed that he wasn’t Keras — his hair was shorter and he looked closer to my own age and build. The mask was the wrong color, too. He carried an impractically huge sword like it was weightless. With the blade rested against his shoulder, it almost brushed the ceiling of the shop.
The swordsman had a blonde-haired doll in a powder-blue dress poking out of a pocket in his cloak. That was unusual enough in itself, but I could have sworn that when I looked away and looked back the doll’s expression had changed.
Is there something about this tower that attracts eccentric masked swordsmen?
I shook my head to dismiss the thought. I had bigger things to worry about.
“Corin!” Lars closed the distance between us in a few steps, slapping me on the back. “My favorite customer!”
I definitely wasn’t his favorite customer.
“How can I help you, lad?” He had a cheerful grin behind his voluminous red beard.
“Thinking about picking up some more supplies, and I was hoping you could give me some advice on what might be useful in the tower.”
Lars nodded knowingly. “Ah, sure, sure. Getting prepared for your practical next week?”
I blinked. “My what, exactly?”
“You don’t know?” Lars let out a deep belly laugh. “Oh, goddess, boy, you’re killing me. Your first practical exam is next week and you didn’t know?”
I drew back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about; we’re not supposed to make our first trip into the tower until the end of the year.”
He nodded, still chuckling. “Right, right, course not. But you get to go into the fake tower next week.”
Oh.
That made a lot of sense.
I knew the academy had a building they used to set up tests that were similar to the rooms in the Serpent Spire. My brother had taken a mock Judgment in a similar facility for practice, but I’d never had the chance.
When I’d heard we were going to be having tests periodically throughout the school year, I’d assumed they were the traditional written kind.
But of course not. Not at a school where professors liked to ambush me in my room in the middle of the night. No, nothing could be simple here.
Did the others already know? Was I the only one who’d so thoroughly misinterpreted things?
I’d find out, but first, I needed to get myself prepared. I was nowhere near ready for another encounter with the tower — real or otherwise.
I had planned to start gradually putting together an inventory of magical items that would be useful for going through the tower in the middle of the year, but if I had to plan for next week, I’d need to prioritize whatever my first items were much more carefully.
I needed to make sure I scored well enough on the test to make it through the rest of the year. If I failed out, it would be years before I could get another chance to start climbing the tower. I couldn’t afford to wait that long.
“Right, um, of course. So, I need to get ready for that, and I could use some ideas.”
Lars walked over to one of the nearby walls, gesturing for me to follow. “I’ve got just the thing.” He lifted an axe off of where it hung on the wall, running a hand affectional over the surface of the grip. “This here is Maverly. She got me through some of my toughest scrapes. Did I tell you about the time with the Baren Hydra on the third floor?” He swept the blade through the air, just a few inches from me. “There I was, neck-deep in goblins, when suddenly—”
I smiled, but waved my hands for him to stop. I actually enjoyed Lars’ stories, but I knew that one.
Also, he was trying to sell me on one of the worst items in the shop.
And it was out of my price range.
“Nothing against Maverly, but I’ve heard that one. Also, I’ve already got a magic weapon, and I’m getting rather attached to it.”
I patted the hilt of the sword on my hip. Lars looked at it, his eyes nearly squinting, then flashing wide open with surprise. “That isn’t… Show me the blade on that, lad.”
He hung Maverly back on the wall as I drew the weapon. I held it up for him to see.
“Well, now there’s something I never thought to see. Selys-Lyann, the Goddess’ Tears.”
My eyes went from him to the sword and back. “You recognize this thing?”
He sucked a breath in through his teeth, nodding. “Put that away before you hurt yourself.” He himself was standing a cautious distance from its reach.
I sheathed the sword carefully. “…What can you tell me about it?”
I briefly entertained the idea that I was holding some sort of legendary sword that could only be wielded by a chosen hero.
“That sword is marked with a terrible curse.”
Yeah, that sounds more like my luck. Of course it is.
“What sort of curse?” I asked, shoulders slumped in resignation.
“Once, that sword was wielded by a great warrior, who loved the goddess deeply. And the goddess loved her in return, although the warrior would never know it. The warrior sought the apex of the towers, as many do, to pray to the goddess to descend from the sky so they might be together.”
I listened carefully.
Lars leaned up against a nearby table. “The warrior was a Soulblade, one of the attunements from the north. She was unparalleled in skill and grace, able to achieve marvels with even a humble blade. The warrior made her way to near the top of the tower and stood against her final foe, Mizuchi, a child of the God Serpent itself.”
The Hero’s End.
I felt a chill run down my spine.
“The warrior’s battle against Mizuchi raged for hours, but though the warrior was greatly skilled, she was of humble birth. Her sword, a simple thing of iron, could not pierce Mizuchi’s scales, and though she tried to strike for a weakness, she could find none. Finally, she sought to block a blow from the guardian beast, but her blade snapped in twain. Mizuchi’s fangs pierced her heart. As the warrior lay dying, she called out to the goddess, the only being she had ever loved.”
“The goddess descended from the skies, but the warrior’s eyes were already closed.”
I lowered my eyes. The story didn’t sound true — how would anyone know the tale if the warrior had died alone atop the tower — but it still affected me.
“As Selys held the warrior’s body, the goddess cried for the loss of a champion, slain by the weakness of her weapon. The goddess’ tears flowed to the blade, mingling with the hero’s blood, and forging the blade anew.”
I glanced down at the hilt of the sword, then back to Lars.
“They say that the sword has passed through many hands over time, each pursuing a worthy goal. Selys-Lyann’s blade will never break again, and she cuts with the ice of Selys’ tears, but beware: she is a traitorous blade. Each time a hero wielding Selys-Lyann’s has come a hair’s breadth from their goal, they have failed — often betrayed by one of their trusted companions. And so Selys will descend again from the sky, and her tears will wipe the blade clean… until it is claimed by the next hero, destined to die by their own blade’s curse.”
I nearly took the sword off my belt and abandoned it that very moment.
“So,” he continued, drawing that one word out in a low voice, “if you’ll be needing an anti-curse sigil, I’ve got a few for sale at very reasonable—” He stopped, interrupted by the single raised finger I’d held in front of him.
I took a moment to fix him with a disbelieving stare. Then, “…Did you just make that entire thing up in order to sell me an anti-curse item?”
Lars let out another deep laugh, slapping me on the arm. “Not all of it, lad. Not all of it. It really is cursed, or so they say. But I don’t put too much stock into curses. They rarely work the way people think. Never can be too safe, though…”
And that’s how I spent nearly half my savings on an anti-curse trinket that I suspected had no function at all.
* * *
I returned home a little bit shaken from the story, but considerably better equipped. The anti-curse trinket was a feather, supposedly taken from a gryphon, which I attached to the Selys-Lyann’s hilt. I’d look the weapon up later to see if I could verify which parts of the story, if any, were real.
Beyond that, I’d found several things I wanted at the shop, including a bag that diminished the weight of objects inside, a pair of boots that would increase the height of my jumps, a bracelet of shielding that would recharge itself over time, and a dueling cane that was enchanted to project lightning rather than gray mana.
I could afford precisely zero of those things.
The boots were the cheapest at only two hundred silver sigils.
I had seventeen silver sigils left after purchasing the anti-curse trinket. I quickly found that any permanent magical item was out of my price range — but that had some advantages, too. As soon as I could make permanent magical items, I could probably sell them for a handy profit.
I decided I wanted to try to make a permanent item, and thus, I needed materials.
I had a few things I could already work with: two lesser gray crystals from the slimes; one lesser earth crystal from the barghensi; and the one large crystal of unknown function that Professor Orden had given me.
I also had the handful of crystals that Jin had given me as payment for my help with his own enchantments. I’d used a couple on the enchantments for my room, though. My remaining resources from Jin consisted of two medium gray crystals, three lesser gray crystals, one medium mind crystal, and one medium transference crystal.
I picked up a few crystals at Lars’ place and asked him about their costs, bought one, and then made myself a list of his costs for future reference.
Lesser (Class 1) Gray — 3 Silver
Lesser (Class 1) Other — 4 Silver
Medium (Class 2) Gray — 12 Silver
Medium (Class 2) Other — 16 Silver
Greater (Class 3) Gray — 120 Silver
Greater (Class 3) Other — 160 Silver
Superior (Class 4) — Varies by type, quoted me 600 Silver for a Class 4 Transference crystal
The classification numbers apparently were more important than the actual physical size — more powerful crystals were denser with mana, not necessarily larger. Most people still used terms like “lesser” and “greater” for short-hand, but as an Enchanter, I’d need to pay closer attention to the technical classifications as I got more experienced.
There were at least six classes of gems, but apparently anything more powerful than Class 3 was extraordinarily rare. From the prices, I sincerely doubted I’d be working with anything higher than Class 2 in the immediate future.
I found it deeply ironic that our attunements were named after types of gems, but these magical gems weren’t. I guessed it was probably because of color confusion. A Class 1 gem might be blue if it contained water mana, so calling it a “mana carnelian” would be confusing.
The one I decided to pick up was a medium transference crystal. Almost every enchantment I’d found would require at least two crystals of the same type, and I was leaning toward a transference enchantment. I managed to barter him down to 9 sigils, leaving me with a single coin to my name.
When that was done, I went to the Divinatory and asked them to identify the large crystal Professor Orden had given me.
The answer was…unexpected.
“That’s a Class 2 universal mana core.”
I blinked. “Universal? You mean gray?”
The Diviner shook his head. “Nope. Universal. It’s much rarer. You can channel any kind of mana into it and it’ll change into a crystal of that type. Don’t waste that thing, it’s rare; only a few of the strongest monsters in the tower have universal cores. How’d you get it?”
“Uh… gift from a teacher.”
“Wow. That teacher must really like you. Those things are expensive.”
Huh.
I didn’t really know what to make of that. I bid the Diviner goodbye and headed back to my room.
Having a universal core vastly broadened my options — if I was willing to use it immediately. No wonder Professor Orden already thought she’d given me enough resources. This crystal itself was worth at least as much as one of the greater crystals in the shop, and probably vastly more, due to its flexibility.
I could only change it into a few types of things myself, but for something like this, I’d be willing to put in the effort to ask a friend to shift it to a different type.
What could I accomplish with a single Class 2 mana core of any type I wanted?
Shuffling though my books, I came up with a pretty simple answer: nothing more than I could have made before.
Using Class 2 cores was at least Carnelian-level, possibly higher. Attempting a Carnelian-level enchantment at my skill level had a huge possibility of failure — which would cost me the crystal — and possibly a disastrous backlash if I made a bad enough mistake.
I tucked the crystal away in the relative safety of a secret compartment in the bottom of the wooden crate where I kept my laundry.
While putting the crystal away in there, I found my other hidden item, the flask of water from the attunement chamber. I hadn’t forgotten about it exactly, but I also hadn’t done anything with it as quickly as I had planned.
I turned on my attunement to look at the flask. The water inside still glowed a bright, ice-blue hue under my vision. The same hue, in fact, that I saw on my own attunement if I looked in the mirror while it was active.
I’d promised myself I’d do something to preserve the water in there, but I’d procrastinated on it pretty severely. Grudgingly, I spent most of the day studying enchantments to preserve potions. Fortunately, I was able to find a few that only required gray mana.
I marked the flask’s exterior with ink, the easiest way to make a rune on something made of leather. Then I spent the evening putting two quick enchantments on the flask. One to preserve the liquid, and the second being a simple shield sigil like I was using on my walls. I didn’t want a stray arrow puncturing the thing.
I was getting to the point where I had a lot of enchantments to maintain. None of the enchantments I’d made thus far were the permanent, self-sustaining kind — those were too expensive. Even the items I was making for Jin would have to be recharged, but he seemed confident he could get them refilled without people asking too many questions. I didn’t ask how.
I ran into Sera while I was shopping for supplies for my permanent enchantment.
She fell into step by my side, walking with me to the shop. “You sign up for a team for the practicals yet?”
How does everyone know about these other than me? “No. I wasn’t even aware we had teams.”
Sera paused in her step, staring at me for a second. “Seriously? I was wondering why you hadn’t asked me to join you, and I was feeling a little left out… but you didn’t even know?”
I shook my head. “Is this in one of our thousands of school documents somewhere?”
I had read those. Or skimmed them. Skimmed most of them. Parts.
The first few pages, at least.
“Yes, but they’ve also been all over the newspapers. And they’re the only thing half the students have been talking about for weeks!”
Oh, talking to people. That’s a thing I should do again sometime.
“Right,” I said sheepishly. “What’s the deal?”
“Teams of five, to get ready for the first tower incursion.” Her reply was instant. “I’ve got Patrick on my team already.”
Patrick was an unsurprising choice — he was both talented and very easy to work with. “What about Roland?”
Sera made an ugly scowl. “He had ‘other obligations’.”
Huh. That would be interesting if I actually cared.
This was giving me an idea, though. “You ask any physical fighters yet?”
She shook her head.
“Okay, you sold me. I’ll join your team… if you let me bring a friend.”
She drew back and crossed her arms. “Who said I want you?”
I gave her a knowing look. “I’m not going to beg.”
“Fine, fine. You can join us. And you can pick someone. But get Jin, too, yeah?”
She wants Jin on the team? That was interesting. I would have expected her to go with any of the other students we’d known for years.
“I think I can sell him on the idea. Where do I sign up?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it. I’ve known how to forge your signature for years.”
“Knowledge is distinct from mastery. If your idea of my signature is anything like your homages to the great artists of—”
“I was six when I drew those, Corin. Six! Are you never going to let that go?”
“Not if you keep giving me such perfect reactions.”
“Ugh.”
We made our way to the shops without any further incidents, and she helped me pick out some of the items I needed. Fortunately, I’d just gotten my weekly stipend that morning; otherwise I’d have been begging Sera for a loan. I was only going to make one or two items immediately, but I picked up a handful of mundane accessories for future enchantments for myself, as well as the next few things Jin was going to need.
I had a lot of options in mind for my first item, even with my relatively limited resources.
In terms of function, I had a few main things I wanted to focus on.
First, I needed to make sure I stayed intact. My shield sigil was a good start for this, especially because I could recharge it myself, but eventually I wanted something that was stronger and wouldn’t require any upkeep from my side.
It also had a clear weakness to kinetic energy. Most shielding spells seemed to dampen the force of physical attacks, but failed to stop them entirely. I’d need to research how to counter that. Maybe a transference-based shield spell?
I also needed more raw offensive power. When Professor Orden had broken into my room, her tunic had been able to effortlessly absorb my dueling cane’s blasts. Maybe she wasn’t a fair bar to set. I couldn’t expect to beat opponents with Emerald-level enchantments that caught me by surprise in a fair fight, but even my own humble shield sigil was capable of soaking about fifteen hits from a standard dueling cane before failing.
Presumably, that was why Lord Teft had felt comfortable letting us throw spells at each other on our first day of class. The sigil defenses were more than capable of stopping anything your average student could have produced. Sera’s summoning-based attack spell might have broken through a shield, but I really had no idea. It was visually impressive, but I didn’t know how much punch those shards of ice had.
If I couldn’t break a simple shield, I couldn’t be expected to handle any monster of significant power, either. My sword might have done the job, but I still didn’t know exactly how it worked, and I wasn’t going to get into close range with anything threatening if I could avoid it. I had just enough sword training to know that there were plenty of people who were better.
Information gathering was another high priority. I still had access to multiple items that I couldn’t even properly identify, which meant that I couldn’t use them to the height of their capabilities. Besides identifying items, I also wanted anything that would help give me clues on how to solve the multitude of puzzles inside the tower, or otherwise help me make my way through. Maybe I could eventually find spells to locate other people? I’d need to do some research on that. I knew practically nothing about the capabilities and limitations of divination.
Finally, I wanted some items to improve my mobility. Things that would let me safely traverse tower rooms with gaping chasms and spinning blades. Teleportation was the most obvious choice, followed by things that would simply increase my speed or agility. Flight could be useful, too, if I could manage it.
From those broad options, I came up with a short list of things I could actually make. A better shield sigil was an option, and there were types listed in the Advanced Artifice book — which I probably needed to return to the library at some point — that were designed to stop kinetic attacks. They were all listed as at least “Carnelian” level, but they didn’t look difficult.
In terms of firepower, there were a lot of options. Mages, unsurprisingly, loved researching new and exciting ways to explode things just as much as anyone else. I found a lot of runes dedicated to variations on dueling canes — ones that fired elemental bolts instead of gray mana, for example, or that had specialized enhancements for attacks. Bolts that homed in on enemies, for example, or blasted through basic shielding.
A lot of these options were probably within my capabilities, but they were also common, and that meant there would be accessible defenses against them. They’d still be perfectly viable in the tower, but I wanted something I could use if I was attacked by another human that was potentially more experienced than I was. That meant something less obvious… maybe an enchanted ring?
I shelved that idea for the moment, looking at the other categories.
For information gathering, I found several enchantments for interfacing with other enchantments, like how my sigil detected other projectiles. I found very few detection spells that could be used on their own, though. Most of the divination enchantments I’d looked up for Jin were only useful in specific situations — things like seeing in the dark, detecting ambient mana, and seeing through walls. I really wanted something that would give me information about magical items, but I didn’t find anything like that in my books. I’d have to ask a more experienced Enchanter about it later.
Mobility was almost entirely out of my reach. I could make an enchantment to increase the height I could jump, but not a lot else. Even increasing my running speed would require several runes I didn’t have listed in my books. Apparently, just adding mobility by itself would add force to my motions without any stability, so I’d basically be blasting myself forward with each step. Hilarious, but impractical.
So, all in all, blowing things up seemed best.
I’d picked up a couple cheap rings, but a bit of study told me they wouldn’t work on their own. An item’s mana capacity was based on its size and materials, and a simple metal band couldn’t hold much of anything.
Gems could hold a great deal, but there were two problems with that. One, I couldn’t afford any decent gems. Two, I didn’t know how to inscribe them with runes properly. Etching metal was easy. Drawing on the surface of a diamond? I wasn’t sure, but that sounded a lot harder.
So, what else was easily concealed and potentially a good source for directing attack magic? Necklaces had the same problems as rings, and also the magic would emanate directly from the item. I couldn’t aim my neck very well. Really, that last part meant I needed either something hand-held or something on my hand. I was back to dueling canes…or maybe a glove?
Standard cloth and leather gloves had terrible mana capacities, too, as it turned out. There were specialized types of materials that could hold a lot of mana, but they were well outside my price range.
Gauntlets, on the other hand? Those could hold a fair bit of mana, and I could easily afford a pair. I was worried that a traditional gauntlet would impede my ability to manipulate anything with my hands, though, so I settled on a demi-gauntlet that I’d wear with a leather glove underneath.
“So, whatcha doing?”
I’d made the mistake of asking Sera to watch me work on this enchantment, since it was technically Carnelian-level and I wasn’t precisely allowed to be trying it yet. There was only a tiny chance I’d detonate the gauntlet in the process, and I was pretty sure my shield would save me. Probably.
I sat on the floor, laying the gauntlet down flat on my “enchanting tile”, a square of wood that I used to center whatever I was working on. I laid down my enchanting book on the left side of the tile and my measuring implements on the right.
The exact size of a rune wasn’t important. You could make a tiny rune on the side of a jewel if you knew how. The proportions and angles of lines on each symbol were supposedly relevant to the function, though, so I’d have to measure those. I didn’t know how exact I needed to be, but I was going to take my time on this one.
Before I started, I used four clamps to attach the demi-gauntlet to the wooden board. It moved a little if I lifted the wood, but it was pretty steady once I put it down.
“I’m making a gauntlet that will serve as an emergency weapon. I don’t know what I’m calling it yet. Blasting gauntlet, maybe? Power glove?”
Sera snorted. “Power glove sounds pretty bad.”
“I’ll think of something better. Anyway, I’m going to try to give it two different functions: raw mana projection and kinetic energy projection. In theory, I’ll be able to use one at a time or both at once. This is going to make the enchanting process a bit complicated.”
“Okay.” She sat down across from me. “And I’m here to…?”
“Go get help if I explode?”
“Oh, got it. Can I laugh at you first?”
“Heh. You’ve never asked for permission before.”
“Right you are. Okay, let the fireworks begin.”
I rolled my eyes. It comforted me to have Sera around in case this went badly, even if she’d never let me forget about it. Bringing a Mender would have probably been more logical, but I didn’t know any of them very well yet. In retrospect, maybe “healing” should have been on my list of things to consider for enchantments, but I was committed by that point.
“All right, first thing I’m doing is setting up capacity runes for each type of mana. These prevent the gauntlet from containing more than a certain amount of mana of that type.”
I opened up a container of paint and dipped my brush in it. I’d write the runes out in paint first, verify the dimensions, and then etch into the metal using my other tools if the rune had been drawn correctly. More experienced Enchanters could jump straight to etching, but I was working with runes I’d only practiced on paper — the risk was too great.
I drew three capacity runes: one for gray mana; one for transference; and one for mind. I checked them, wiped the mind one, and redid it twice more before I was satisfied.
“What’s the third one for?”
I pointed at the mind one. “This one is going to connect to a rune that detects when I want the gauntlet to activate. If it was like a cane, it’d just activate whenever I was in contact with an activation rune. Which would be all the time, since I’m going to be wearing it.”
“It senses your thoughts? Isn’t that really advanced?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not sensing my thoughts exactly… it just waits for me to send a bit of mental mana into the rune, then it activates the other rune functions.”
“Oh, that makes sense.”
I flashed her a quick smile, then refocused. “Going to have to be quiet for a second for this part, I need to concentrate while I engrave.”
I adjusted my clamps to make sure the gauntlet was going to stay where it was and picked up the engraving rod. It was one of the simplest Enchanter implements, and the first one I’d learned to use. It looked like an ink pen with a tiny gemstone on the tip and a few runes written on the side. I pressed the activation rune, which caused the tip of the rod to vibrate rapidly. When I pressed against the metal, the vibrating tip cut into the surface of the gauntlet.
Slowly, I traced the painted runes. It only took a few minutes, but I was sweating by the time I turned the engraver off.
“Okay, first step done.”
I set the engraver down and used a pair of wet and dry cloths to wipe off the remaining paint. After that, I reviewed the runes. The lengths and angles looked fine, as far as I could tell.
“Not bad. So, you can enchant it now?”
I chuckled. “That’s three runes out of twelve. Next, I put in the recharging runes. They’ll let it draw on ambient mana to refill each mana type up to the capacity over time. Then, I put in the function runes, the ones that actually make the item do anything. After that, it’s the activation runes, which tell it when to do it.”
Sera frowned. “Don’t you only need one activation rune? The mind one?”
I blinked. “I mean… I was going to make the mind rune activate the other two activation runes… but maybe I could skip that step?”
I paused for a minute, frowning as I considered. “I don’t actually know if one activation rune can trigger three functions or not. I could try—
“Wait,” I interrupted my own train of thought. “I’m doing this all wrong. I need two different mind runes either way, or I’m going to always activate the gray and the transference runes at the same time.”
Sera leaned forward, looking at the gauntlet. “Yeah, but I still don’t see why you’d need other activation runes. You’re only activating it one way, yeah? Can’t you connect one mind rune to each function rune?”
“I’m not sure. That’s never how they show it in the introductory book…but to be fair, I skipped the intermediate ones and most of this comes from a more advanced book.”
She side-eyed me. “Maybe you’re thinking too much about what the book says and not enough about what makes sense.”
“I could look it up, I suppose.” I shook my head. “But I’d never get back to it on time for the tests if I stop now. I’ll finish this one the way I was planning to, but that is an interesting idea. It’d save me time and materials if it works. I’ll look it up later.”
She grinned at me. “Maybe for when you make me one.”
I found myself smiling back. “Sure,” I said. That was the first indication she’d given me that she was interested in one of my items. It was kind of nice. I liked feeling like I could do something useful. “As soon as you can afford one.”
“Charging your family? You cut deep, Corin. Here I am, risking my life — my very existence — to help make sure you finish your first item properly…”
“It’s not my first item, it’s my first high risk item. But your point is taken, Sera. I’ll make you something.”
She made a gesture of victory and I grinned as I resumed my work.
* * *
“All right, time to test this thing out.”
Fortunately, there was a whole section of buildings dedicated to enchanting, and a number of “gray chambers” set aside for testing new equipment. I hadn’t bothered to use one before, since my previous enchantments were so simplistic, but this probably warranted a degree of caution. Even if the gauntlet worked correctly, it was going to fire a blast of mana that was more powerful than any weapon I’d used before. Firing off bursts of energy in random places wasn’t exactly wise.
I signed the paperwork to use one of the chambers, and Sera and I stepped inside. We were assured that the chambers were monitored and that Menders would be close by if anything went wrong.
We stepped inside the assigned room.
It was small, about the same size as a single dorm room. The walls were gray stone. I didn’t recognize the type of stone… maybe that was the source of the name of the rooms? I activated my attunement, noting that the stone had a soft glow, but I didn’t see any runes on the inside of the room. If it had them, they’d done the smart thing and put them outside of the chamber. Otherwise, I’d have to guess the stone had inherent magical properties. Possibly both.
I turned the attunement back off. I was starting to get headaches more often, and I suspected the bright lights I was picking up with the attunement active were a part of that.
“So, these walls are designed to handle magical blasts?” Sera tapped a finger against the stone. “Seems like they’d be a good place for any of us to practice, really.”
I made a broad gesture with my hand. “Yeah, but there aren’t enough of them for all the students to use them. I imagine they’re expensive to make. The dueling grounds serve a similar function, but allow for larger groups to practice at a lower cost.”
“So, why not just test enchantments in one of the dueling fields?”
My laugh was sharp. “Because an instructor can probably repair the damage from a careless Elementalist. If an Enchanter makes a big enough mistake? You could probably wipe out a small town.”
Sera paused her inspection of the room and turned to me with a quizzical look. “How’s that possible? Wouldn’t the detonation be based on how much mana you put in it?”
“Normally, yeah. But remember what I said about capacity runes? Now, imagine I got that wrong. This gauntlet could probably hold about ten times the mana I’m putting into it before it explodes. Now, that’s nowhere near a town-level explosion. Maybe a building, at best.” I lifted my chin to scratch my neck, just to do something with my hand.
“But let’s say,” I continued, “you’ve got some fancy climber who wants a full suit of enchanted armor. It has to be good, so it’s made of a material that can absorb several times more mana than usual… khyonite or something. Now, someone makes a mistake on the capacity rune on that. Let’s say it’s twenty times the material of my gauntlet and the material can hold ten times more per area. So, two hundred times more mana. Two hundred times bigger explosion. That’d be a small town, I’d say.”
“That’s… kind of horrifying, actually.” Sera folded her arms. “So, these rooms let you run tests to make sure each rune is working right?”
“Actually, from what I understand, they’re more about containing the explosion if I did something horribly wrong.”
“Oh.” She paused and glanced from side-to-side. “I’m going to go stand outside now.”
I laughed again. “I’ll see you in a minute.”
She had a good point about checking each individual rune’s function, but I didn’t have a good way of doing that. A Diviner could, maybe… and that meant that I could potentially build a tool to do it myself, given time.
In the meantime, I could only test the whole, and that meant activating it.
I waited for Sera to get outside, then took a deep breath and sent a flicker of mana into the activation rune.
Then the world went white.
“…rin… Corin! Can you hear me? Wake up!”
Sera was standing over me. When did she get back in the room?
Why was I lying down? I didn’t remember lying down.
Someone else was next to her. I frowned. It was another student, but I didn’t recognize her. She was tall, with dark yellow skin like Jin’s. She knelt down next to me, waving a hand over my head. A soft white glow enveloped my face, forcing my eyes shut. The soothing chill that came with the glow helped numb the pain in the back of my head… which I hadn’t realized was hurting until the chill came along.
Oh, I’m being healed, I realized. Which means I’m injured.
“I think I’m okay,” I mumbled.
“Don’t move,” the Mender instructed. “Don’t talk. Don’t do anything.”
I complied. It was several minutes before she even let me talk.
“You’re lucky — your shield sigil absorbed the majority of the blast itself. The explosion carried you into the wall, though, and you hit your head. The sigil looks to have softened that, too. I don’t see any fractures, or any internal bleeding. You’re very lucky. The next time you want to test an enchantment with an attack spell, you should have a more experienced Enchanter look it over first.”
That was true. I probably should have considered that.
“Mm.” And after a few moments, I managed, “Thank you.”
The Mender looked to Sera. “He shouldn’t have any permanent damage. Can you accompany him back to his room? I need to go check on the other rooms.”
Sera nodded with an expression of deadly seriousness. “Of course.”
The Mender left us alone.
“Uh, yeah, so that didn’t go as planned.” I tried to smile. My face felt… weird.
“I’m resisting the urge to smack you right now.”
“Your willpower is, as always, admirable.”
Sera sighed, rolling her eyes. “Ugh. At least you didn’t break your snark.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. My snark is indestructible. It’s the core of my being, and quite possibly the universe as a whole.”
“Arrogance, also intact. You think you can stand?”
I frowned, looking over the side of the bed. Everything was wobbly. Sera was especially wobbly. Why were we sailing? “No. I’m pretty sure that I’m a ‘no’ on that.”
“Fine.” Sera sat down next to me. “Never do that again.”
I couldn’t manage a nod; my neck was still feeling too stiff. “Right.”
Sera waited with me for as long as I needed. As it turned out, that was the rest of the night.
* * *
It was two days before I was largely functional again. Sera kept a close eye on me the whole time, even coming by to bring me food when I was recovering in bed the day after the incident.
Much like a retainer might have, if I had any.
As it was, I was just grateful to have anyone to help me. I owed her one.
The explosion’s cause was fairly obvious. I’d somehow activated both the gray mana and the transference mana at the same time, and they’d mixed. As Lord Teft had told us, like deflects like, opposites nullify…and other mixes tended to explode. This was apparently one of the explodey kinds.
I didn’t see how I’d managed to activate both, though. I had fixed the obvious problem beforehand, thanks to Sera’s comment. I had two separate activation runes that led to each type of mana.
So, I took it to Professor Vellum, the most likely person to be able to diagnose the problem.
Her office was littered with… everything. Books. Unlabeled potion bottles. Children’s toys. Weapons. At least one very mean looking house cat. More potion bottles.
I barely managed to step over the mess at the entrance when I moved to hand her the gauntlet.
“You tried to use this? Goddess, child. You’re lucky to be alive at all. The rest of us might be less lucky for it, if you intend to keep being so reckless.”
I frowned. “I have two separate runes. How did the mana get mixed?”
“Oh, dear child. Do you know how sensitive those activation runes you made are? Take a look here.” She picked up something from the table — a wooden stick — and handed it to me. “What’s different about these runes and the ones you used?”
I glanced them over. “They’re, uh, completely different ones.”
“Yes, of course. But what’s systemically different?”
Interestingly, much like my gauntlet, the stick had multiple activation runes, one on either end of the wood. Each connected via a line to another set of runes.
I was still looking when she spoke again.
“The circles, boy. The circles. Have you never seen a magic item before?”
Oh.
The runes on the stick were circled.
Just like they were on my dueling cane, and my etching rod, and my engraving rod.
“…My books didn’t say anything about circles.”
“Of course not. Because you aren’t reading books about using multi-function enchantments or even basic attack enchantments, both of which are for second year students. Students that understand the fundamentals of how not to kill themselves. Goddess, child, what did you think the circles on your dueling cane were for?”
I winced. I’d skimmed through some of the second-year texts, but I hadn’t read them cover-to-cover. “I guess… I assumed they were cosmetic? They make the runes look more like buttons.”
“Like buttons.” Vellum let out a deep sigh. “Goddess, this generation. Please, let it be the last that I’m blessed with teaching.” She gestured to the stick. “Hand that back to me.”
I gave her the stick, and she handed the gauntlet back to me in exchange. “The circles are far from cosmetic. They’re boundaries. They prevent excess mana from escaping, and they also help to prevent the runes from being accidentally activated by ambient mana, or through other effects. They make it so the rune only activates when you put something inside the circle itself to feed it mana.”
“…Meaning that without them, my gauntlet could have triggered any number of different ways. If I walked into a mana-rich area that had the right type of mana in the air, or the gauntlet was hit by a spell…”
“Precisely. You’re lucky to have your head on your shoulders right now. You’re doubly lucky to have that hand. I’m not sure how you managed to keep it.”
“I was wearing a shield sigil.”
“Ah. At least you did something right, in that case.” She sighed. “Let me see the glove again.”
I handed it back to her. She frowned, shaking her head.
“What gave you the idea for this contraption?”
I folded my arms. I really wasn’t enjoying being interrogated, but I didn’t exactly have any choice about answering. “It seems like there’s always something attacking me, and I’m never properly prepared. In the tower, in dueling class… Even in my bedroom.”
Professor Vellum snorted. “I heard about that. I don’t approve of Orden’s antics, but she is funny, at least. That’s better than I can say for most of our staff.”
I was less amused. “In virtually every encounter, I’ve been impossibly outclassed in combat. I considered other options — things to make me move faster, or block attacks — but this was what I had the materials for, and sometimes it’s necessary to have a strong enough weapon to deter your enemies.”
“I quite agree. But why not use a tested design? There are dozens, if not hundreds of designs for dueling canes alone. Why make your own?”
“A gauntlet is something I can always have on me. It’s also not an obvious weapon. I would have preferred a ring, but I couldn’t afford a gem with a reasonable mana capacity.”
Vellum crinkled her lips. “At least you were thinking. That’s better than I can say for the majority of my students.” She shook her head. “But I can’t let you keep making disasters like this.”
I looked down. “I’ll make sure to draw boundaries next time, professor.”
“No, no, no. It’s more than that. This isn’t your first incident; don’t think I didn’t hear about you overcharging that war cane. You’re experimenting. And experimenting is always going to have risks.”
“What do you want me to do, then?” My palms stung, and I looked down to see my fists clenched tightly, nails digging into my skin. “Stop enchanting until my second year — assuming I can survive that long?”
“Goddess, no, boy. Of course not.” She handed the gauntlet back, and I had to unclench one of my hands to take it from her. “Never stop enchanting. Never stop creating. Never stop thinking. That is your greatest asset, even if it can also be your greatest weakness. No, I don’t want you to stop.”
She stood up, her eyes sharp and gleaming. “No, I want you to listen. Because I’m going to teach you some real enchantments.”
Chapter XII — Testing Phase One
I left Professor Vellum’s office with my mind in a much better place. In spite of her gruff exterior, she provided me with the key information I needed to make my gauntlet work. Better yet, she promised to start private lessons on much more potent enchantments in the future. The kind I couldn’t find in textbooks, even the ones designed for graduates.
It put a bounce back in my step. I fixed the gauntlet almost immediately, and then found an older student to check it. He seemed “pretty sure” it would work.
It did work.
It worked beautifully.
The transference blasts were sufficient to hurl a person across a room with ease. I suspected the gray mana blasts would break ribs, or maybe kill a small monster like a slime outright.
It was about at that point that I remembered I had a team test coming up later in the week, and I still needed to recruit two people.
Getting Jin, as Sera had requested, was simple enough. He came by regularly to pick up the small items I was still working on enchanting for him. I only had a few items left that I thought I could make, and I hoped to finish those before the test if possible.
“Hey, team competitions coming up. Do you have a team yet?”
“Hmm,” Jin replied, projecting disinterest. He tossed the bracelet I’d handed him from his right hand into his left. “Do you?”
“I have Sera and Patrick so far. With you, we’d only need one more, and I have a strong candidate in mind.”
He unclasped the bracelet, and then slipped it around his left wrist and snapped it shut. “I’ll be unable to use the full capabilities of any attunement. Is that acceptable?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I think they’ll be fine with it. With all the things I’ve been making you, I suspect you’re better prepared than any regular attuned would be at this point, anyway.”
His lips stretched into a thin smile. “Better even than you think.”
It was so typical of Jin to play mysterious that I couldn’t help but laugh. He looked offended for a moment and opened his mouth, but closed it a second later without saying anything. Then he smiled again himself and huffed a soft laugh. This smile was smaller than the one before it, but he was still wearing it as he left my room.
My next candidate would be a tougher sell.
I headed to the women’s dorms. It took some asking around just to find the right room.
I thought I saw Cecily Lambert in the distance while I headed toward the Tortoise’s Heart. As with every time I’d seen her on campus, I did my best to pretend I hadn’t seen her. I still wasn’t ready for the conversations we needed to have.
The Tortoise’s Heart was a smaller facsimile of the Tortoise Spire, one of the six Shifting Spires. “Smaller” in this case meant a mere twelve stories in height.
The Heart’s defining features were the encircling walls, designed to resemble those of the tortoise’s shell. The wall was constructed from hundreds of green hexagonal panels, each etched with dozens of runes. I didn’t know if they were actually functional, but I was willing to bet that they were.
A second shell-like fixture hung over the top of the building, casting shade over the entire structure.
The only way into the building was a solitary ramp leading to the middle of the building. From there, I had to take a winding staircase to get to the appropriate floor.
All in all? The building felt less like student housing and more like a fortification.
I kind of loved it, but I wouldn’t ever be getting in.
At any given time, only the hundred and twenty best students in Tortoise Division were permitted to stay here. They retained their old rooms as well. That was necessary, given that they could be kicked out of the Tortoise’s Heart the day their points scores dropped below a competitor’s.
Every class had equivalent buildings; for Phoenix Division, we had the more simply named “Phoenix Hall” for men and the elegant “Phoenix’s Wings” for women. Ours were smaller, however, and only housed fifty students of each sex.
I was paying close attention to my own rankings. Graduating was a high priority, but I wasn’t anywhere close to qualifying for the Phoenix Hall… at least yet. When I’d checked at the Divinatory last, they’d told me I was #238 in my Division with a total of 112 points. We had about fifteen hundred students in Phoenix Division total, which made my rank respectable, but nowhere near the top.
I was nervous for what felt like an infinite number of reasons when I stood in front of the door to one of the rooms, preparing to knock. The main reason was agonizingly simple: in spite of confirming three times, I still worried I was at the wrong room.
The other reasons were a bit more personal, and involved embarrassing hypotheticals of being rejected.
I almost turned away. Instead, I just stared blankly at the door for a solid minute before I got frustrated enough to overwhelm my fear. Then I knocked.
“Just a minute.”
It was the right voice. That made things better and worse.
Marissa opened her door a moment later.
“…Corin? What are ye doing ‘ere?”
I gave a pathetic little wave. “Uh, hi. I was, um, wondering if you had a team for the tests this week?”
Her mouth twitched downward a fraction. “No. Why?”
“I was hoping you’d join my team. We’ve got a pretty good group, but we’re lacking front-line fighters.”
She leaned back on her heels and folded her arms across her chest. “Rupert isn’t on your team, is he?” Her eyes flicked behind me, scanning outside the door.
I followed her gaze, twisting to see the empty walkway behind me before turning back to her figure in the doorway, baffled. “Rupert?”
She blinked. “Kent,” she said, as though this were obvious. “Rupert Kent. From dueling class?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t know his first name. And no, he’s not on the team. Why would that be a problem?”
“I… well…” Marissa slumped. Her head dipped for a moment, then lifted. She blew her hair out of her face, and her eyes had lost most of the wariness from before. “Do you want to come inside?”
I shrugged and gave her a closemouthed half-smile. “Sure?”
“C’mon.”
I followed her into to the room, closing the door behind me.
She sat down on her bed, waving to a seat near a writing desk. I took a seat and shifted in the chair, not sure how to dispel the awkward atmosphere. My eyes took in the room while I avoided her gaze.
It was half-again the size of mine, and nicer by far. The floor was covered in pristine blue-white carpet, the walls looked freshly painted, and the room’s ceiling was a couple feet higher up. Her bed was much bigger than the one I’d been provided, too, and a metal-covered serving tray was sitting on the writing desk beside her books. One of the perks of these “elite” buildings was that they had their own kitchens, and those kitchens were available to deliver food directly to the rooms.
All that enhanced my interest in getting into Phoenix Hall, though I was still more interested in the points to help me graduate than the added luxury.
“Don’t get the wrong idea, I’m just inviting ye in to talk.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
That was all I’d planned on. Now that she’d pointed it out, I could understand why she wanted to set expectations. But with all the things I’d been nervous about, sex wasn’t on the list.
I could see that she might be the type to attract attention. I liked her hair, fine and bright yellow, like corn. But I’d never been interested in people like that. I’d expected that to change as I’d gotten older, but those much-vaunted pubescent urges just never struck me the same way they seemed to hit other people.
I didn’t mind. It meant I could focus on more important priorities, like not dying. That was one of my favorite hobbies.
Once we were seated, I asked the obvious question. “So, what’s all this about Rupert Kent?”
She took a deep breath. “I know it’s not my place to go askin’ someone of your stature anythin’, but please, you can’t go tellin’ anyone ‘bout this.”
I was curious before, but now I was intrigued. I nodded. “Okay. I won’t say anything. Now, what’s this about?”
She sighed, putting a hand over her eyes. “It’s… a bit of a tale.”
I adjusted my chair, leaning back. “I’ve got time.”
“I s’pose the first thing ye need to know is that I’m from outside Ellis.” Marissa turned her head away from me, sounding wistful. “Spent my first years on a farm outside of Kentsford.”
“Kentsford? As in, House Kent, I take it?”
She nodded. “The same, m’lord. House Kent be country nobles, and they’ve some of the finest lands outside of the gate. One day, me parents and I were huntin’ near home — within our rights, mind you — and we came upon a noble’s party gallopin’ through. Wouldn’t have been no problem, save that their son be with them, and be of age with me.”
I wasn’t sure how that was an issue, so I just waited for them to continue.
“Little boy Kent says he thinks I’m pretty, and that he wants to take me home. Thought he was just having a laugh, but then I see an older man, much older, looking me over. And I can see his eyes, and I know he thinks me real pretty, too.” She shuddered, her jaw tightening.
“Can’t imagine they had any shortage of young girls about, with all their lands and coins, but maybe I’m just the right kind. Kid is getting real insistent with the parents, so they humor him. The older man comes to talk to my father, sounding real apologetic-like, and explains that he’s Baron Kent, and asks if he’d like to send his daughter to stay with them for a while.
“My father’s not having any of it. ‘She’s only nine,’ he says. I was eleven, but slight of frame at the time. ‘Why don’t you ask her what she’d like?” the baron asks, all charm and smiles.”
I gritted my teeth. I didn’t like where this was going.
“So, my dad, he asks me real nice, if I’d like to go with the boy. I shake my lil’ head and cling to his leg, knowin’ even then that there was nothin’ good to be had from that. Father says he’s sorry, and wishes the baron the best of luck on his hunt, and takes me straight home. The little boy whines until we’re long out of sight.”
She folds her hands in her lap. “If that was the end of it, I’da thought no more of it. But each year, he shows up again. Doubt he thinks I’ll change my mind, but he never stops. Was hoping my attunement would finally put him off, but you saw him in class.”
I’d known that country nobles had a reputation for taking their status much more seriously than my own family did. I expected that higher ranking nobles in the city probably did too, but I hadn’t spent a lot of time around them. My family had only been nobility for a few generations. We’d been granted it for military service, so we weren’t exactly old blooded traditionalists.
I hadn’t realized just how much of a difference that would make, though. A child wanting to play with another child was one thing. Treating another person like a possession was something else entirely.
“I’m sorry that you had to deal with that.” I knew the statement was insufficient, especially given the implication that Kent’s father might have been trying to get her to come home with them. Disgusting wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what that implied.
“Nice of you to say so. But you’ll forgive me if I’m a bit distrustful.”
I sighed. “I understand… Goddess, I don’t know what I’d do in your place. Do you think he knows that his father was… well, interested in you?”
I rubbed my forehead. She shook her head. “Don’t think so. But don’t you start spreadin’ that—”
“I won’t. I just figured that might put things into context, get him to stop bothering you.”
“He’d just laugh at me. Not to be rude, but ye don’t know him like I do, that’s clear as city sky. Not a chance he’d believe, even if ye’d be telling him. And even if he did believe it, I doubt he’d care a wick.”
That certainly made things trickier. “All right. Well, you’re right, I don’t know him. But I would like to get to know you. And no, just to be clear, I don’t mean intimately. I just mean that you seem competent, and our team could use someone who can punch out lightning.”
Marissa breathed a laugh. “I s’pose that’s something I could do for you.”
“Also, you don’t need to worry about my family being important, or being rude to me. I’m about the least important noble in the world right now. I’ll explain my whole story to you later, if you’re interested in hearing it.”
She bit her lip over a mouth that was still trying to smile before she said, “I s’pose I would be.” She seemed much happier than she had when our conversation began.
“All right, then. But for the moment, if you’re willing, I think we both have some papers to sign.”
I offered my hand to clasp. She accepted it.
* * *
Vasday, the ninth week of school. The day of our first test.
I scratched absently at my wrist, just under the demi-gauntlet, while we waited outside the testing room. I’d finished making the necessary adjustments the night before. It seemed to be working as intended now, at least in my initial tests. I didn’t have time to ask Professor Vellum to look it over after I’d finished making the changes, so I was hoping I wouldn’t have to make use of it during the test.
Of course, knowing me, I’d find some way to convince myself to use it either way.
We had a few minutes before our time slot, and I could tell most of the others were just as nervous as I was. Even Jin was showing it in his own stoic sort of way, shifting his eyes from side-to-side a little more frequently than necessary as he leaned against the wall near the door.
Patrick was the worst, visibly rolling back and forth on his feet.
We all knew that the stakes of this test were high. It was worth up to a hundred points. One fifth of what we needed to graduate. Even more importantly, a failing grade would result in immediate expulsion. Straight to military service, no further training.
I couldn’t afford to let that happen. I needed this training, as well as the chance to serve out my military years as a climber.
I would not let myself fail here.
Sera examined her watch, a purchase from our recent shopping excursion. “Five minutes to go.” She shook her head. “Try to breathe, Patrick.”
He gave a nervous chuckle. “Breathing. Right. I knew I was forgetting something.”
She smirked. “As for the rest of you, once we get inside, just follow my lead. If this is anything like the actual tower we won’t have any difficulty.”
When I said “most” of us were nervous, Sera was the exception. Her grin was razor-sharp and her eyes glowed with eagerness.
I wish I could have mirrored her enthusiasm.
The doors opened a couple minutes later and an unfamiliar second-year student led us inside. She was a short, black-skinned girl with stylish spectacles and a pristine Serpent-class uniform.
I’d never been inside the testing facility before. I knew Tristan had taken a practice Judgment in a similar place at a different school, but I never had the chance to do the same.
The entry room was remarkable in its unremarkableness. Just white-painted walls, a row of five chairs, and doors at the center of each wall. It was perfectly square, maybe twenty feet across.
The older student led us to the chairs. “Sit.”
We took our seats, glancing at each of the doors. They weren’t marked.
The student folded her arms. “Okay, we’re short on time, so I’ll get right to it. The first test is with smaller groups, so you’re splitting up. Two groups of two, one standby. Both the groups of two will start at the same time in different tests. Either of them can call in the standby to swap out for one of their members at any time. I’ll give you a signet to call the swap. You’ve got…” she looked at her wrist, but she wasn’t wearing a watch, “…three minutes to pick your teams. Wait here.”
With that, she walked away, heading into room directly opposite from where we’d entered. We dragged our chairs into a circle, and then looked expectantly at Sera.
She drew back, glancing around. “Don’t stare at me. This is a group decision.”
We kept staring.
She caved with characteristic eye roll. “Okay, fine.” She pursed her lips and looked around at us. “This is a good opportunity for us to work together on a smaller scale. It’ll help with our teamwork when we do the bigger tests… I’m sure that’s the point.” She paused, biting a hangnail on her thumb absently. “Jin, you’re still not telling us what your attunement is, yeah?”
They stared each other down. Jin looked away first. “Well, I could tell you,” he said brightly, “but it wouldn’t necessarily be true…”
The tone rang false after my exposure to his normal formal stoicism. His normally wry humor had an edge to it. He was even more nervous than I realized.
Sera tilted her head back, clearly considering. She knew about the items I was making him, and I’d shown her the list of the ones I’d finished so far. As our nominal leader, it was important that she had as good of an idea of his capabilities as possible.
“Okay,” she decided, “you’re sitting out. Corin, Patrick, and I have a pretty good idea of what you can do, and we’ll call you in if we need to.”
Jin nodded curtly. “A wise stratagem.” He rotated his shoulder, avoiding anyone’s gaze.
Sera glanced at Marissa next. “Marissa, you’re the strongest fighter we have. If they tell us which room is going to involve fighting, I’ll put you in there with Patrick; he’ll support you from range. If we’re going in blind, you’re with me. Any objections?”
We shook our heads. It seemed like a pretty reasonable way to break things down. I folded my arms. “Anyone have any insights from other students? I know some of them were taking the test earlier this week.”
“Sworn to secrecy.” Patrick was tapping his foot, probably unconsciously. “Think we’ll get the same speech when we finish our test. Roland was adamant that there would be consequences if he spilled anything. From the sound of it, they’re real serious about keeping this test a surprise.”
That made sense. A test similar to the tower would be vastly easier if someone already knew the challenges in advance.
I knew we’d be taking more than one test like this; I’d seen future tests on the schedule. At least two more tests of this kind before our first trip into the actual tower, maybe more in the second half of the year.
Maybe I could find a way to make some sort of observation device enchantment and leave it in one of the chambers? It would have to be one of the self-recharging kind, since I probably wouldn’t have a chance to find it and recharge it. It’d be expensive, but observation devices were fairly standard.
I was confident I could build one in time for the second test if I could afford the materials. I’d have to figure out a good way to hide it, though. Other students had certainly tried that sort of thing before and the professors would be on the lookout for them.
The older student came back out of the room, holding a pair of bells. “Okay, who wants these?”
Sera reached out a hand. “I’ll take them and distribute them once we know where we’re going.”
The student frowned. “Haven’t picked your teams yet? You’re out of time, kid.”
Sera tightened her jaw. I could see her biting back a retort about being a ‘kid’ in her expression. “We have two team setups, depending on how much you’re going to tell us about the rooms in advance. Do we get any foreknowledge on the types of challenges?”
“Nope. Pick or I pick for you.”
Sera took the bells, then handed me one. “Plan B, then. You’re with Patrick. C’mon, Marissa.”
We all stood up, arranging ourselves into teams.
“All right, standby kid, go into the room I was just standing in. You two,” she pointed at Sera and Marissa, then at a door on the left side of the room, “over there.”
They walked to the door, standing just outside it. “And you two, by the magical process of elimination, get to go to that door.”
I rolled my eyes, waving for Patrick to follow me. When we reached the door, I tucked the bell away in a pouch on my side.
“Case you kids didn’t pick up on another obvious thing, this is a return bell. You can ring the bell if you want to swap out. Make sure the person ringing it is the one that wants to leave.”
I’d guessed most of that, but it was good to confirm. A question occurred to me, though. “Any limit on the number of swaps we can do?”
“Nah, just going to cost you a headache.”
That was good, but, “Do we lose points for switching people?”
“Can’t tell you how you’re scored.”
“Does the bell stay with the person who rings it, or does it stay in the room?” I could tell she was getting annoyed, but it was worth it to push for as much information as I could get.
Unfortunately, she had reached the end of her patience. “So many questions!” she griped. “It’ll drop where you used it. There’ll always be a return bell in the test room.”
I looked across the room at Sera. “Do we want to arrange pre-set times to switch and share info?”
The older student wasn’t having that. “Cute idea, kid, but you’re out of strategy time. Test starts in three… two…”
Oh, resh!
“One… go.”
We opened our doors. The inside of my room was pitch black, so I hesitated to step inside immediately — but that turned out not to matter. An unseen force yanked me inside the moment I processed the black. I heard an amused, “Have fun!” echoing from somewhere behind me as I stood amidst the dark.
* * *
So, I wasn’t afraid of the dark exactly, but I admit I was more than a little concerned.
Yeah, concerned. That’s a good word.
Once I stopped shaking, I took a deep breath and considered my options. I didn’t have any kind of light magic available, but Patrick could probably illuminate the room with fire… assuming there wasn’t anything combustible in the air.
They wouldn’t do that, would they?
I held off on the suggestion, just in case the teachers were feeling particularly malicious with the room’s design.
I also wasn’t even sure Patrick was still with me.
“Patrick, you there?”
There was a brief, disconcerting pause. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I can’t see, can you?”
“No, but I’m working on it.”
Maybe I could see something with my attunement enabled?
I concentrated for a moment, activating my attunement.
The light was nearly as blinding as the darkness.
The whole room glowed brightly under my enhanced vision, which shouldn’t have surprised me. The test was probably being constructed from a whole bunch of illusions and enchanted objects, meaning practically everything was magical.
The luminescence of the objects in the room didn’t extend to anything around them, so I wasn’t exactly getting a clear image of the whole place, just glowing outlines within a canvas of black. It was enough to let me pick out some key features, though.
The room itself was rectangular, and I was near one of the corners, standing on solid ground. A man stood next to me. Presumably, that was Patrick, but I couldn’t actually see that level of detail. All I could make out was a glowing person’s outline. He had something in his right hand. A dueling cane, maybe?
No door behind us, but I could see outlines that might have been doorframes on two of the walls.
The center of the room was obscured, and it took me a few seconds to figure out what I was looking at. There was a dome-shaped cage, with some light leaking through the bars, making it look almost solid.
There was a humanoid figure standing inside the cage, arms uplifted toward the ceiling. Completely immobile. That was mildly disconcerting.
I saw something that looked like a box on the floor near a corner directly across from where I was standing. The glow around it was vibrant red, indicating some kind of destructive magic. An explosive, then? Or a trapped box?
A rectangular wedge jutted out of the floor in front of the cage. It was too thin to be another box. It looked like a wall segment that was out of position.
Finally, there were small, rod-like objects attached to several of the walls. It took me an embarrassingly long moment to realize what they were.
“There are unlit torches on the walls. Can you make fire?”
I hadn’t disproven the presence of flammable gas, but my attunement wasn’t picking up anything obvious, and the presence of torches pretty strongly implied they were meant to be lit.
“Uh, yeah, but I only know attack spells. They’re not really meant for light.”
I nodded, belatedly realizing he couldn’t actually see my response. “That’s fine. I’ll guide you to a torch, and hopefully it’s got some kind of material on the top you can ignite. If not, we’ll try something else.”
I wasn’t big on touching other people, but it couldn’t be helped. It was easier for me to tolerate when I was the one initiating contact, at least. “Going to grab your hand and lead you. Follow slowly.”
“Got it.”
His skin felt weirdly clammy. Maybe that was normal, though… it’d been a while since I’d held anyone’s hand. A long while. I guided him to the a torch on the wall nearest us and set his hand on top of it.
“That’s it. I’d recommend trying something weak.” I pulled my own hand away, taking a step back.
“I could have figured that one out on my own, Corin.” The wry observation was tempered by Patrick’s natural geniality. “Okay, lemme see.” He took a breath.
“Extinguished fire in the night,
I beseech you to Ignite.”
A sphere of flame manifested in Patrick’s hand and blasted through the torch, right into the wall behind it. I winced at the scorch marks left on the wall, but the spell succeeded at serving its purpose. The torch was lit, but not without consequence.
The chime of a bell sounded in the distance. I frowned, looking around the room, but I couldn’t see the source of the noise.
I could see the rest of the room a bit more clearly, though, even with only one torch lit.
We weren’t far from the box. In better lighting, I determined that it was… a box. Not a treasure chest, not a coffin, not even a wooden crate. A box. It had no obvious seams, cracks, or keyhole. I couldn’t even tell what it was made out of.
I could see the cage a little more clearly, too. No prisoner inside, but there was something… a statue of Tenjin, the Visage of Inspiration. She was at the center of a fountain, with water descending from her uplifted hands into the basin below. I thought I caught a glimmer of something metallic near her feet, but it was still too dark to see.
The torch itself was wrought from blackened metal with a glass-encased top, almost like a lantern, but with a visible sphere of orange fire swirling within. I felt fortunate the fire spell had worked. If I’d seen the strange torch more clearly before I tried the plan, I would have assumed the glass would have blocked the spell.
Upon closer examination, I found a piece of fiber. A wick, maybe? It led right into the enclosed glass. That meant the torches could probably be lit through mundane means, too. I hadn’t actually brought any fire starting supplies in my bag, but I’d have to think about that for next time.
“You got enough mana to light the other torches?” I noted five more of them around the room. With some light available, I also turned off my attunement. Keeping it on was going to give me a headache, as well as drain my mana supply.
Patrick grinned, looking visibly more confident now that we had a bit of light. “Yep, I’ll get started.”
He walked over to the next one, put his hand over it, and repeated his incantation. A brief flicker of flame, the torch was lit—
And the room went black.
There was no bell to accompany this event. It was a hiss in the air, a sound of something being torn apart, followed by the growl of something bestial.
At that point, I was no longer merely concerned. I’d made the leap straight to terrified.
Something slammed into me with battering-ram force. I flew backward, smashing into the wall, my shield sigil absorbing as much of the impact as it could. I sunk to the floor.
“Corin?” came Patrick’s uncertain voice.
“Reshing relight the other torch, now!”
I turned my attunement back on just before it hit me again, a clawed hand the size of my torso tossing me along the wall and sending me skidding across the floor.
“I can’t see where it is!”
The beast was fast, nearly on top of me again before I had a chance to reply. It wasn’t truly visible even with my attunement active, more of a blur of disruption within the things I could see. From the blur of movement streaking toward me, I pictured a lion the size of a carriage, trailing multiple spine-laced tails.
I raised my demi-gauntlet and focused my will, pressing raw mana into the device. A sphere of gray mana flashed from my outstretched hand, blasting into my onrushing foe. The impact didn’t stagger it much — I was using the attack function, not the knockback function — but it let out a roar of pain at the impact.
The blast had also briefly illuminated the room enough for me to get a better look at what I was fighting. It wasn’t a lion… it was utterly, horribly worse. It looked more like a horned panther with draconic scales the size of my fist, each of the tails I’d seen before a serpentine tendril that extended from the creature’s spine. The tendrils moved independently and several of them were raised above the creature’s back, looking poised to strike like a snake.
I wanted nothing to do with that thing, but it seemed to have a difference of opinion.
Tendrils descended like spears from the sky.
I focused again, sending mana into the other rune. There was a sharp burst of pain from using so much of my power in rapid succession, but the blast of kinetic energy that ripped out managed to knock the creature back a few steps, throwing the tendrils out of position. They ripped into the stone floor, and then it was dark again.
“Just throw a fireball at it, I’m under attack over here!”
“Oh, goddess! Um, flames of, no…”
Something hit my left shoulder — a smaller impact than the claw had been. I heard a crack and felt a jolt of agony, letting out a roar of my own at the sensation.
I twitched my head to the side just as something else whistled past, intersecting the space where it had been a moment before.
Then there was light, a chime, and the creature retreated, passing right through the wall at my side.
Patrick had relit the first torch he’d ignited. Now that we could see a little more clearly, I groaned and pushed myself into a sitting position.
My left arm was numb, but the pain had largely faded. A glance didn’t show any visible injuries. The shield sigil must have stopped it from piercing through me.
Patrick rushed to my side. “You all right?”
I rubbed at the arm; it wasn’t just numb, it felt cold. “I think so, but I might need to find a healer after this. Nothing urgent. Don’t relight that other torch.”
“No kidding. What do you think that thing was?”
I tried to shrug — and that hurt. Okay, no more moving that arm for a while.
I started to push myself to my feet, and Patrick knelt down and helped haul me into a standing position without prompting. It was a little awkward, but I was grateful nonetheless.
“Not sure. Something related to barghensi and behemoths, maybe, but of a shadow variety? The flames seemed to scare it off. Light probably hurts it.”
Patrick pointed at the wedge I’d seen with my attunement on. “This thing has some writing on it, maybe that’ll tell us.”
He had better eyes than I did. I couldn’t see any writing at that distance. We approached cautiously, but there were no other obvious monsters in evidence.
As I got closer, I saw that my companion was right; the wedge was a stone tablet, floor to ceiling, with tiny letters etched into the surface near the middle. Said middle was slightly higher up than my head. With the low light and the distance, I had some trouble reading it, but I managed to piece it together over a minute or so.
Six visages of goddess see,
The light of mortal destiny.
Two to keep our bodies strong,
A pair to keep our hearts from wrong,
A final two to light the path,
And keep us from the goddess wrath.
Each guides us in a different way,
And for these gifts a toll we pay.
Six visages of goddess see,
The light of mortal destiny.
My face twitched as I noted the grammatical and capitalization errors in the poem — really, “goddess wrath”? — but I brushed the instinct aside as best I could. I’d need some time to think about the poem to sort out the relevant parts. In the meantime, I walked to the other side of the tablet, inspecting it and finding a second message.
You will be devoured within the dark.
I shivered. That was certainly more direct, but definitely not comforting.
“Ooookay.” I looked at Patrick. “You read all that?”
“Yeah. Looks like we’re supposed to give gifts to the visages?”
“I don’t think it means literal gifts,” I said. “I’m guessing they’re talking about those torch things. Except, you know, they’re not actually torches. Going to guess we need to light each torch in the appropriate way.”
Patrick nodded. “Different element for each, then? How do we know which element goes to each torch-thing?”
I almost tried to shrug again, but managed to abort the motion before I hurt myself this time. “Might not have to do them in any kind of order. I didn’t see any runes or symbols of specific visages on them, and we’d have to have been really lucky to get fire right on the first try if there is supposed to be a specific gift for each. We should look at them more carefully, but it more likely just means we have to do six different elements in any order.”
“I don’t actually have spells for six elements, though,” he reminded me.
“Maybe gray counts? It might not even be different elements, anyway. Maybe it’s just different spells. Let’s take a closer look at the first one before we even try anything else, though. Also, I want a look around the room in general.”
I limped my way toward the lit torch, muscles sore from the impacts with the floor and walls. I frowned as soon as I noticed the tiny rune etched into the surface of the metal base. I didn’t recognize it.
“There’s a marking here.” I pointed at it.
Patrick walked up next to me. “Never seen that before. One of your Enchanter things?”
“Probably, but not one I’m familiar with. I’ve got a book, but it would take too long to look it up.” I walked over to the next torch, squinting at the base. Another marking — a different one. “Not good. This has a different rune. There probably is a specific element for each. Or maybe a specific sequence we have to light them?”
“I could try hitting the next one with lightning and seeing if it works,” Patrick offered.
I shook my head vehemently. “I’m not ready to face whatever that thing is again. Let’s see if we can find another clue somewhere else in here.”
Drawing closer to the cage, I got a better look at the fountain and, more importantly, the gleaming object within. A silvery-white key. That was obviously important.
Could I get it out immediately? A blast from the knockback function on my demi-gauntlet might displace enough water to reveal the key, then a second well-placed blast might knock it out… but I’d seen an aura between the bars. There was probably a shield on the whole thing; it was probably cage-shaped so we could see the prize within. Maybe I could bust through the shield, but it didn’t seem worth the mana to experiment.
I found Patrick kneeling next to the box. “Kinda want to know what’s in here.” He picked up the box — which I wouldn’t have done — and shook it — which I definitely wouldn’t have done. I could hear something clinking around inside.
“Please don’t break that.” My hand twitched as I envisioned a potion bottle cracking inside.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” He set it back down. “I don’t see any openings. I could try to blast it open?”
“Let’s save that approach for if we can’t figure anything else out. I’m going to see if I can find—”
Glowing eyes in the far corner of the room. It may have been my imagination, but I felt like the whole room had gotten just a little bit darker.
“Relight the torch, Patrick.” I took a step backward, nearly tripping over the box.
“Hrm?”
“Relight it!”
I pointed my hand toward the glowing eyes, readying another attack. They narrowed slightly in response. I could see no sign of the creature’s body within the darker corner, so I couldn’t even be certain it was the same monster as before.
Patrick moved back to the original torch, repeating his original incantation over it. There a flicker of white, then the torch’s glow returned to full strength. When I looked again, the eyes were gone.
I drew in a sharp breath. “Okay, looks like those torches go out on their own after a while. How’s your mana?”
“I’m still fine.”
I nodded and withdrew the bell from my pouch. “I’m going to swap out for a minute for Jin. He has some divination abilities; have him look at the runes and the box.”
“You’re leaving?” Patrick’s expression sank.
“You or Jin can swap out and bring me back in just as soon as you’ve picked up more info,” I assured him. “Keep your eyes on the walls, too, and be ready to kill that thing with fire.”
With that, I rang the bell. My stomach lurched as my vision went white.
* * *
I was in a waiting room. There were two large couches. The older student who’d brought us in was lounging across one of them. Jin sat stoically on the other, hands folded in his lap.
Odd. I’d expected him to swap places with me instantly, but I guess that wasn’t how this worked.
The female student sat up. “Oh, hey! You actually did the bell thing? Huh. Guess you’re up, then!” She pointed at Jin.
Jin turned his head to look at me quizzically.
I nodded a greeting to him. “Got some stuff in there that we need Divination for. Feel free to switch back out for me after you identify things, but you can stay in there if you think you can solve it.”
His mouth twisted as his eyes flicked from my face to my disarrayed uniform, lingering on my unresponsive arm. “You look like you got hit by a carriage.” He sounded irritated.
I raised my good arm self-consciously, trying to smooth out a wrinkle with a gauntleted hand. “Uh, yeah. Don’t let the room get dark. Patrick will explain the rest.”
The student supervising us pointed at the single door at the far side of the lounge. “That’ll take you back to the entrance room, then head toward the door his team went into when they started. You can ring the bell again if you need to.”
Jin nodded, heading that way with haste.
I sat down on the couch carefully, inspecting my arm now that I had sufficient light. No visible damage, but it still felt numb. I looked at the older student. “Why does my arm still feel weird? I figured any illusory damage from in there would fade as soon as I got out.”
“You won’t get any answers about the test from me, kid.” She smirked.
I rubbed the arm, grimacing. “Can I do whatever I want in here, at least?”
She tilted her head to the side. “Sure, I guess. You’re technically still taking the test.”
Okay, then. How can I game that?
I didn’t have any way of healing my arm. Even if I had conventional healing, I wasn’t sure it would work on what was probably fake damage.
If it was a mental effect, which seemed possible, I might be able to get rid of it if I had something designed for purging mind control, but I didn’t have that either. Sleep might have fixed it, but I’d never been good at falling asleep on command.
I settled for doing something I knew I could do. I started recharging my shield sigil. The process was relatively simple: I just touched the sigil and gradually pushed gray mana into it. As long as I was making contact with the device, it would accept the mana and slowly begin to recharge. I’d gone through the process enough times now that I could tell when it had reached capacity.
A full recharge still took me a few minutes. Teft’s ability to recharge the sigils in a few moments was pretty impressive. Most people, even experts, didn’t have that kind of mana control. I was getting faster at it, but I had a long way before I reached Teft’s level of proficiency.
I was still in the process of recharging when Patrick appeared in front of me.
On the floor.
More alarmingly, he wasn’t moving.
I rushed to his side, kneeling and gingerly rolling him over. Unconscious. It took me a moment to confirm that his chest was still rising and falling.
I heard a laugh from the other couch. “Looks like you lost one.”
I whipped my head up to glare at her. “What’s wrong with him?” I demanded.
She rolled her eyes. “Relax, kid. He’s just asleep. He’ll wake up when the test is over.”
I let out a low growl, which actually drew an expression of concern from her. Reaching down with both arms, I lifted Patrick from the cold stone of the floor and set him down on the couch I’d vacated.
I didn’t realize that the numbness in my arm was gone until after I’d finished moving him. Anger had burned away the chill in my mind.
I stomped my way toward the exit door.
“Where are you going?” The other student asked.
“To finish this.”
I pushed into the main room, then back to the door where I’d first entered the challenge. I didn’t know what the rules were for re-entering when someone was knocked out, but she had said that I was still technically taking the test.
I opened the door and saw the swirl of darkness within. This time, I was ready.
* * *
The sound of muffled gunfire reached me before sight took hold.
The room was moderately lit this time, three torches burning different colors on the walls. Jin was backpedaling rapidly, twin revolvers in his hands.
The creature, now fully visible, lashed out at him with vicious speed, four tendrils striking downward with whip-like motions, piercing the floor as Jin jumped and fired his guns. Both shots hit home, joining other bullet holes in the creature’s scaly hide. The wounds dripped green ichor that sizzled as it splattered against the room’s floor.
Jin had the creature’s attention, but his attacks seemed to be having a minimal effect. It retracted the tendrils and lunged, jaws outstretched. Jin stepped to the side, brushing a corner of his coat into the creature’s mouth. It snapped down on the cloth, fangs piercing into the uniform as Jin twisted and pressed a revolver against the top of its head, firing straight into the skull.
The beast recoiled at the impact, tearing a ragged section out of Jin’s coat and shaking its head as if to rid itself of an insect. Then it surged again, too close now for Jin to dodge.
So he didn’t. He kicked it in the face once, twice, and thrice before bringing his gun down to smash it in the face.
By this point, I had my sword drawn, and I was slowly advancing. I really didn’t want to get into melee range of that thing, but the sword was undoubtedly the most effective weapon in my possession. If bullets were barely slowing the thing down, I had little chance of killing it with the gauntlet or the cane sitting on my opposite hip.
A tendril snapped forward, forcing Jin to duck to avoid being impaled, and the creature took that opportunity to ram him with its horns. Jin tried to shift to the right, but one of the horns caught him as the beast charged. I saw his barrier flicker into existence, then begin to splinter and crack as the creature pushed, slamming Jin into the wall.
Jin gasped as the move knocked the air out of his lungs, then began pounding on the creature’s head ineffectively with his weapons. I didn’t know why he wasn’t firing the guns, but I couldn’t let this go on. The cracks spreading like spiderwebs across his barrier were a sign that it was at critical capacity. In a moment, he’d go from merely being crushed to having a three foot horn sticking through his chest.
Unacceptable.
I felt the wisps of frost gathering on my blade as I thrust it into the creature’s side, aiming for where I hoped a heart might be. I wasn’t exactly familiar with the anatomy of unidentifiable nightmare monsters, from the way it roared as the saber pierced through a soft-spot between scales I guessed I’d hit something important.
It tried to turn toward me, and I pushed the weapon deeper, letting out a roar of my own as I shoved. A visible layer of frost expanded outward from the wound, spreading across the creature’s flank.
It spun, swept my legs out from under me with a claw, and then jumped backward as I hit the floor.
And as I recovered, readying a gauntlet to block the next strike, it turned — and it ran.
Taking my sword with it as it passed through the wall.
My eyes widened. I… hadn’t realized that was possible.
Jin had recovered before I did, reaching down with a hand and helping me to my feet. “Good timing,” he observed. His breaths had slowed to an almost normal rate. “Patrick is dead. We solved the torch problem, but the creature came anyway.”
“What’s the solution?” I glanced at the torches. Only two of them remained lit, indicating one of them had gone out during the fight.
“They’re in matched pairs. Doesn’t matter which mana type you start with, but you need to light the match with the same type.”
And we’d tried to light two non-matching ones with fire, and failed the puzzle. That made sense. “Okay, so we’ve still got two lit with… what is that, lightning?” The two lit torches had some kind of crackling energy floating within them.
Jin nodded. “I do not know if we have enough distinct mana types for the two remaining pairs without Patrick. We had managed to ignite two pairs, but the creature ambushed him when he walked into the darkness to light the last.”
Ugh. “Did you try gray?”
He again nodded. “Doesn’t work.”
I frowned, thinking back to the poem.
Two to keep our bodies strong,
A pair to keep our hearts from wrong,
A final two to light the path.
Maybe the pairs had to be physical, mental, and, uh, light? I wasn’t really sure on that last one.
It was worth trying. I cautiously moved over to the nearest unlit torch and pressed my gauntlet against it. “Have you tried transference?”
“No.”
I activate the gauntlet, blasting the torch with raw kinetic force. The torch shook, cracks appearing on the surface of the glass — oops — and a flicker of light manifested within the orb.
Success!
“Looks like that one works. Do you know which one—,”
Jin was pointing to the other side of the room when I turned to look at him. There was a torch back there, sure, but that wasn’t what he was pointing at.
Eyes in the dark. My sword was still lodged in the creature’s side, the weapon’s icy glow illuminating a patch of frost that was still slowly spreading across the monster’s hide.
I cracked my neck. It was time to get my sword back.
I glanced at Jin. “You need a minute to reload?”
“I already did. That monster can make itself selectively incorporeal, though. If it sees me aiming, it’ll just go incorporeal to avoid most of the hits.”
Why wasn’t it going incorporeal to get rid of the sword, then? Oh, maybe the weapon being stuck in it meant the creature’s ability treated the saber as part of its own body? That explained how it managed to take the weapon out through the wall earlier.
“I’ll distract it.”
“Patrick said that, too.”
…That’s grim.
“Well, it sounds like he did… at least for a minute.” I drew my dueling cane with my left hand. I wasn’t as good at using it with my left, but I could manage, and the demi-gauntlet would interfere with using it in my right.
“True,” Jin admitted.
“Going left.” I stepped left and opened fire with the cane, feeling the sharp pull of mana through my hand. It was a familiar sensation, as invigorating as it was painful.
Only half of my blasts landed. I’d expected a rush, but it started leaping in a zig-zag pattern to avoid the assault, showing more intelligence than I expected. Spines descended from the air as it approached. I flicked the switch on the cane’s hilt, side-stepped, and deflected the first spine with the blade.
The creature hissed, the second spine missing me as it winced at the impact of a bullet against its side. I jumped over a sweeping claw, then danced back as it attempted to gore me, jamming my blade toward the bullet-hole that Jin had put in its skull. I missed as it continued to move, losing my grip on the cane as it impacted an undamaged portion of the skull. The weapon went flying to the side, further gunshots piercing the creature’s hide as it reared up on its hind legs.
I didn’t like the look of that.
I was already jumping to the side when it slammed its feet down and breathed fire in a vast arc, blasting nearly a quarter of the room. Even outside the main arc of the flames, my barrier still visibly manifested to protect me from the rising heat.
It was still spitting out the blast of incendiary breath when I rolled beneath it, grabbed the hilt of my sword, and pulled.
The saber’s blade was sharp, but I wasn’t pulling at the right angle to make a good cut.
I had something a little different in mind: cracking some ice.
I put my full weight into it as I pulled, feeling something give in the creature’s side as the section of frozen hide began break apart.
The creature howled, dragging me along the floor as it rushed toward a wall, one of its massive legs landing on top of one of mine with a crunch.
I slipped free, sword in hand, as a section of frozen hide gave way.
The creature, still solid, slammed into the wall a few meters ahead of me. At last, it lay still.
It was only in reflection afterward that I realized that I’d almost made the thing collapse on top of me… which would have brought a swift and uncomfortable end to my test.
As it was, I couldn’t feel my left leg, the one it had stomped on as it retreated.
“Jin…” I mumbled, a spark of cold surging through my leg, “Make sure it’s dead.”
He walked over to me, reaching out a hand expectantly. Nearly incapacitated by the spreading feeling of numbness, it took me a moment before I understood what he wanted.
Oh, right.
I flipped the sword around, offering him the hilt. He accepted it, walked over to the monster, and stabbed it a dozen times.
“Dead,” he pronounced, and walked back over.
I breathed a sigh of relief, pushing myself into a seated position.
“You going to get up?” he asked mildly.
“I’m not sure I can. Thing stepped on me while I was under it.”
“That was a stupid move.”
I nodded, wincing. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Worked, though,” he allowed. “And you gave me an idea.”
He walked over to one of the last two unlit torches and swiped my sword into the globe.
A moment later, the blue-white glow of frost manifested within the sphere. Jin smirked in satisfaction, moving to the last torch as I ineffectively massaged my leg.
Another flick of the blade — Jin clearly knew how to handle the thing — and the last torch was lit.
The cage in the center of the room rumbled, and then lifted, an unseen hook pulling it until it contacted the ceiling. The cage remained in place, hovering over the statue, but there was sufficient room to access the things within it now.
Jin walked over to me next. “The pain is in your head. Shake it off.”
“Uh, trying.” The best I managed was to push myself into a crawl, getting me a little closer to the statue. “Anything in there aside from the key?”
He shook his head. “No.” He looked down at me, sighed, and laid the sword down on the floor. “You’re no good to me like this.” He reached into a pouch at his side, withdrawing a flask, and then handed it to me. “Drink, it’ll heal you.”
I didn’t know if a healing potion would work on illusory damage, but it was probably worth trying. I opened the flask and took a drink. The liquid inside tasted foul, nothing like any healing potion I’d ever tried. I made a face. A whirring sensation started in my head as I handed the flask back to him.
I felt weirdly warm in the aftermath, and the leg did feel a bit better. “Thanks.” I fumbled to pick up my sword, sheathed it, and pushed myself to my feet.
The numbness was still there, but it felt distant and weaker, so I managed to stumble my way over to the pool. I started to reach down to the water, but Jin slapped my hand away.
“Wait.”
I turned, tilting my head at him in confusion.
He tossed an expended bullet casing into the water.
I watched as it disintegrated a moment later.
Oh.
Not water.
“Well, that complicates things,” I mumbled.
“Yes.”
I considered my original plan of clearing some of the water with my gauntlet, but the key was at the bottom of the pool, and the water from the goddess’ hands was flowing right on top of it.
I drew my sword again. “Might be able to freeze it.”
“Good way to break your magic sword.”
“You think the acid is that potent?”
He shrugged. “Just saying I wouldn’t risk losing a permanent magic item on an exam.”
There was wisdom in that. I waved the sword close to the water without touching it, hoping the aura of frost would be sufficient to freeze the liquid, but nothing visible happened.
I could feel the weapon’s aura, though. Not the chill consequence of its presence — the aura itself felt tangible in my mind, much like how I could briefly feel the mana in my dueling cane before it was released.
Why was that? I couldn’t feel the power from my demi-gauntlet or shield sigil while they were inactive. Was it because the sword’s aura was a passive effect and always on? Was it subtly drawing from my own mana at a rate too slow for me to detect, connecting me with the cold?
I wouldn’t know without further testing or research, but at the moment, that wasn’t what was important. It gave me a new option.
I leveled the tip of the blade, putting it an inch from the waterfall’s edge, reached out into the aura… and shoved.
Snap.
The aura lashed out with a piercing thrust of rime that breached the waterfall. It left a blade-shaped wedge of ice frozen against the statue’s surface, the still-flowing water above splashing against it and forcing me to step back to avoid the droplets.
Now that was interesting.
“Hm.” Jin looked bemused. “I was not aware you could do that.”
“New trick.” I smirked. “Time to get us a key. Take a few steps back?”
He obliged.
I swung the sword this time, feeling the aura whip along with the arc of the weapon. As the weapon traveled alongside the waterfall, I pushed again. The water froze as aura cut deeply into it, leaving a crescent-shaped platform to mark the blade’s passage.
The newly-frozen section was more effective, but the water still struck the top of it and flowed across it into the pool below. Considering for a moment, I changed my approach, freezing water just where it appeared in the hands of the goddess next. The flow of water ceased. I thought I could hear the ice cracking in her hands, most likely the result of pressure building from water behind it.
That meant I didn’t have much time.
I froze the water directly around the key next, took a step back, and blasted the section at an angle using my gauntlet’s knockback function. The frozen key flew upward, just as I’d hoped, but fell back into the water before I could do anything about it. I had to repeat the process twice more until it flew entirely out of the pool.
I heard the sound of something rumbling above me, blinking as I turned my head upward. Jin was faster, shoving me forward before the cage clattered to the floor with a cacophonous crash.
Fortunately, both the key and I had landed outside.
I pushed myself awkwardly to my feet.
“Thanks,” I said, turning back.
Jin was inside the cage, looking unamused.
Oops.
All six torches were still lit, so re-lighting them to raise the cage wasn’t an option. The key was still in a block of icy acid, and I didn’t know how long it would take to melt.
There didn’t seem to be any keyholes on the cage, though, anyway.
“Any ideas on how we can get you out of there?”
“Can you see the mechanism that raises and lowers it?” He peered out through the bars.
I looked up, but there was nothing visible. I turned my attunement on, but there was still nothing in the air. It was apparently raised and lowered through spells that were only active when they were in use. I shook my head at him, turning the attunement back off.
My head swam for a moment as my sight returned to normal. I felt off somehow. I was probably overusing my mana; my right hand ached when I thought about it. Something else felt amiss too, though.
I dismissed that line of thought as unimportant.
“Do you still have the return bell?” I asked instead.
“Ye—” He cut himself off. “Ah, I see. With Patrick incapacitated, how were you able to re-enter?”
“I just ran back to the door.”
He took out the bell and rang it, then vanished.
The bell itself dropped as he teleported, clattering noisily on the floor. I picked it up.
It took about a minute before he re-appeared in the room. “Patrick remains unconscious. There is no sign of the others,” he reported.
“Good. Hope they’re doing better than we are.”
“Yes.”
I handed the return bell back to Jin and he accepted it wordlessly.
The ice around the key hadn’t melted. It occurred to me after a moment that I’d never seen the sword’s ice melt naturally. In fact, it seemed to get worse over time.
It couldn’t last forever, could it?
The only way I’d seen the ice disappear before was from flame magic. “You wouldn’t happen to have any fire spells, would you?”
Jin shook his head. “I would not be able to tell you if I did.”
Cryptic as usual, but not unexpected.
“But I do have fire-starting supplies.”
Jin reached into his pouch, poured some of his… healing potion… on a rag and then set the rag on the floor. He withdrew a knife and a dark-colored stone of some kind, striking the stone with the metal to make sparks. The rag ignited a moment later, and he picked it up on the knife’s edge, and then dropped it on top of the ice block.
It took several seconds, but the ice melted enough to expose the key. Jin knelt down, carefully probing, and flicked the key with the edge of his knife. It flew out of the ice, skidding across the floor.
I walked over, kneeling down, but paused before picking it up. “Think the surface is still acidic?”
Jin nodded as he approached, pouring liquid from his flask over the key. “Yes, but washing it will probably be sufficient. I would advise you to use the gauntlet to pick it up.”
The inside of the gauntlet was only leather, but it was still a glove. Once the key had been washed, I picked it up. No obvious burning on the leather from contact. Good.
“Okay, now what do we do with this?”
Jin pointed at the two doors. “There are two visible exits, both with locks matching the color of the key. Each door has an inscription. The box is also inscribed, but it has no visible opening.”
I walked to the first door. In the greater lighting of all six torches, I could see words carved into the surface, much like on the tablet.
Only light can open the eyes of the faithless.
I frowned, moving to the next door.
Let fire purify the wicked.
I liked that message even less, but I turned to Jin.
“So, fire room or light room next?”
He folded his hands in front of him, head slightly tilted. “You carry ice, which may prevail against fire,” he mused.
“But it’s possible fire is the requirement for that room, rather than what we’ll face,” I countered.
“Possible. But I doubt it.”
I nodded. His preference was obvious, and I didn’t have a good argument to try the other room first; we didn’t have any great sources of light or darkness, either.
I turned the key in the lock. The stone door slid into the floor, reminiscent of some of the ones I’d seen in the tower.
Nice touch. Lends authenticity.
The jet of fire that emerged from the doorway enveloped us both in an instant, crushing our shields to nothing. In a panicked instant, I reached out for the aura of the weapon at my side, spreading it across my skin.
When the flames faded, I was shivering, my skin glistening with ice.
When I turned, Jin was already gone.
Annihilated, I realized, my heart pounding.
Stay calm. It’s just a simulation. He’s fine.
But this does mean I’m on my own now.
I stepped out of the doorway, not wanting to be caught by another errant blast of fire.
From an angle, I could still see where the fire had come from. A statue of the creature we’d just fought, stood directly across from the door. I could still feel the heat in the air and smell the acrid scent of the smoke it had left behind.
And I could see the glow forming in its open mouth, flames swirling and forming.
I stepped completely aside, watching as the blast flashed out the open door a moment later. It flooded the entrance for several seconds before receding again.
I glanced back into the room. The creature’s mouth was still open, a hint of flame already forming as it prepared another blast.
Looking from side-to-side, I saw… more statues. A dozen, at least, breathing their own blasts of flame at varying angles across the room.
And, even with only a moment to inspect, I could see gaps between those incinerating bursts of flame, and a door on the opposite side of the room.
I dodged back out of the way just as the next burst of flame leapt out the doorway.
A timing puzzle.
As the next flames receded, I was ready. I stepped in and to the left, swinging my head widely from side-to-side and confirming what I’d guessed while outside. There was a gap right here that no flaming breath would touch.
There were, however, statues staring directly at the spaces to my left and right — as well as the area directly in front of me.
In total, four statues on the opposite side of the room, two on the left, two on the right… and one at the far right corner on my side of the room, turned at a diagonal.
I winced, pressing against the wall as the next set of blasts seared the air at my right, then at my left a few moments later.
That revealed another important factor: they weren’t in sync.
That was both good and bad.
If the flames were dividing the room roughly into a grid, I could figure out where I could safely step and when. The diagonal-facing statue was going to be the hardest part; it breathed just after the flames near the center of the room let up. That meant crossing that area was going to be extremely difficult.
My reflexes weren’t bad, but I didn’t trust my life to split-second timing. Even with the heat of the room, though, the aura of frost was numbing my skin dangerously… and that frost was real. And sadly, I didn’t know of any way to diminish the cold without disabling it entirely.
I pushed the frost aura away from myself, shivering in the aftermath. I couldn’t risk causing myself real harm to shield myself from illusionary heat.
Was there some other way I could use the frost? I drew the sword, noticing for the first time how severely my hand was shaking. That was no good.
I took the grip in both hands and swiped it in the air, pushing the aura outward as I’d done with the waterfall. A crescent-shaped blade of frost leapt from my swing, cresting through the air only to be melted by a blast of heat from one of the statues.
I tried a second time, timing it with the blasts. This time I managed to hit a statue with the icy projectile, but the ice-wave just cracked harmlessly across the statue’s surface.
Frowning, I sheathed the weapon.
I watched the timing on the statues. Could I make the run?
The diagonal statue had another property I hadn’t picked up before: every three times the statues breathed their flames, the diagonal statue skipped one. A chance.
A deceptive chance.
I realized one critical flaw in my plan before I pushed myself to act. Even if I rushed for the door, ducking between fountains of flame, I didn’t have another key.
Where was it?
I found it hanging from a vicious-looking hook in the middle of the room, high enough that I could just barely reach it if I jumped. Maybe.
It was, of course, right within a zone where the diagonal statue’s flames would burn.
I stared up at it, considering. In the distance, I heard the sound of a gong — once, twice, and a third time.
What was that supposed to mean?
A time limit?
I clenched and unclenched my hands, still shivering in spite of the flames licking the air around me.
Okay. Think. What’s the best route to getting the key and getting across?
Teleporting, obviously. But I can’t do that. Or fly above the flames.
Could I jump from statue to statue?
I glanced at them, then shook my head. Nope. Too far.
Maybe I could have blasted myself forward with the kinetic energy from my gauntlet, but it wasn’t made for transportation; that wasn’t a reliable option.
Maybe I could switch out and hope Marissa was outside? She could probably handle this… and the bell was lying on the ground where Jin had once been standing.
That was kind of depressing, actually.
Another gong sounded in the distance. Definitely a time limit. Which meant gambling on Marissa solving this for me probably wasn’t an option.
Okay, doing this.
I raised the demi-gauntlet, hand still shaking, and aimed at the key. I had to steady my right hand with the left before I fired.
The first surge of mana missed. It was a small target.
The second whipped the chain forward, hurling the key at exactly the angle I wanted — right off the hook and toward the exit door.
As soon as the next jet of flames dissipated, I ran.
Even moving at full speed, I barely made it to the next safe “square” on the grid before an incendiary blast singed the air behind me.
Then I waited, as patient as I could be with blasts of fire raging all around me. There was a tiny voice in my head screaming all the while. I don’t want to die.
It’s not real, I told myself, but the terror whimpered again all the same.
Another blast of flame. Another step forward, and then I was in the toughest spot. I waited for the diagonal flame-breather to go through a full cycle, just to be certain I knew when it would be off.
I’d need to wait for the next flame to start right in front of me, rush into the diagonal statue’s line of fire while it was inactive… and then wait an agonizing moment until the next one faded. Then I’d run.
It seemed like a good plan. A clear plan.
The flames leapt in front of me, then faded. This was the moment of truth.
I rushed forward, finding that tiny safe spot, and waited in anguish, clenching my fists at the diagonal statue as it glared at me.
It didn’t breathe. I breathed deeply in response.
The next flames erupted in front of me, just as I’d expected, and I waited until they faded. As soon as they did, I ran into the safety of the next square.
Shivering and laughing with glee, I turned toward the diagonal statue, the danger that had passed — and saw that it was looking straight at me, a burning sphere forming in its mouth, seconds from activating.
It had turned.
The reshing statue turned.
There were flames all around me; I had nowhere to dodge.
Instinctively, I drew on the sword’s power to shield me with frost.
I knew it wouldn’t be enough.
I felt a jolt of unexpected agony as the flames washed over me and my senses faded to dust.
Chapter XIII — Liminal Phase
I was shivering when I woke.
“Idiot.”
The voice was harsh, barely familiar. As my vision cleared, I realized it wasn’t one of my companions leaning over me — it was Professor Vellum.
I kept shivering. My limbs were numb, but shot through with vines of agony.
Vellum met my eyes. “Awake now? Good. Get rid of that sword.”
I frowned, still disoriented. The sword? What did that have to do with anything?
I was barely cognizant of the white aura stretched across my skin as I reached down, awkwardly fumbled with the hilt of my weapon, and half drew it from the scabbard. Turning over between convulsions, I barely managed to finish drawing it out of the sheath and shoving it to clatter across the stone floor.
Vellum mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out, and then snapped her fingers. I felt an abrupt shock as the white glow faded from my body. The numbness and pain didn’t recede, but I was vaguely aware that the source of the cold that caused them had dissipated.
The teacher turned to someone else. “Warm him.”
I wanted to roll over to see who she was talking to, but I didn’t have the strength. I heard a strong voice speaking an incantation as I slipped back into sleep.
* * *
Corin.
I was in a dense forest, a light rain falling from the darkened sky.
I held a woman in my arms for the last time. She would shed no tears here; she had always been the stronger of us. I ran my fingers through her hair, stained turquoise by the vast power that flowed within her.
“I will be with you soon. I will stop him this time.” I shivered as I spoke.
We both knew that I had lied.
She broke free from our embrace, turning her eyes up to meet mine. I’d seen so many things in those eyes… laughter, anger, joy. I had never seen such complete despair.
I couldn’t bear to meet that gaze. I looked away, turning to the young man at my left side. His long hair was drenched, his legendary blade resting unsheathed against his right shoulder. He’d come such a long way from the boy I’d helped to raise. His skill had surpassed my own, though he would never admit it. Perhaps it would be enough.
His gaze was filled with determination. “Take care of the rest of them while I am away,” I implored him.
Vel nodded, turning his head toward my love. “Let’s go, Ria. The others are waiting.”
She gripped my hand, squeezing it tightly for a moment before she followed Vel deeper into the copse of trees that lay ahead.
Good. I had worried she would refuse to leave me behind.
I turned and faced the entrance to the glade. I did not have to wait long before he appeared.
He was unarmored. He’d long ago reached the point where no hide or metal could match the toughness of his skin, and eschewing the ceremonial suit he wore on most occasions meant that he wanted every advantage he could employ.
His eyes glimmered gold in the forest’s low light.
I shivered again as I saw the weapon sheathed at his side. The hilt resembled the base of a tree, a bright green gem clutched between its roots. As he drew the weapon, I observed the runes on the surface of the black metal blade. One rune for every life he had taken with it, whether they were man or god.
There were countless thousands of runes on the surface of that blade.
I set my hand on my own saber, drawing the familiar weapon and raising it in salute. I felt the familiar aura of frost stretch across my skin, hardening into armor. It was almost unbreakable.
My opponent raised his own weapon to mirror my salute. “I have long anticipated this meeting.”
My grip tightened on the hilt of my weapon, my heart hammering in my chest. “So have I.” My voice was as harsh as gravel from many years of shouting battlefield commands. I was an old man, but far younger than my rival in spite of appearances. His kind would never feel the weight of mortality on their bones.
“Then let us begin.”
My rival flashed forward in a blur, his blade forward in a deadly thrust. The world froze around me, raindrops pausing in their fall.
Corin, open your eyes.
I drifted backward, my perspective shifting as I saw the scene from above. I was no longer the old swordsman, simply a distant viewer from the skies above.
I saw other figures below, the woman he loved among them, traversing the forest with haste. They headed toward a distant, shining light, something vast. Something beyond my ability to perceive, contained within the form of a many-faceted gem.
Awaken.
The world around shivered and shattered, leaving only darkness.
* * *
“Corin, wake up!”
I felt someone squeeze my hand. I shivered, drawing in a sharp breath, and my eyes fluttered open.
My vision cleared. My next breath was relief. It was Sera that was holding my hand.
I was in my own bed. I had no recollection of how I’d gotten there. “Mmf,” was all I managed to say. Sera was sitting in a chair beside me. She had deep bags under her eyes, like she hadn’t slept in days. It was oddly dark in the room.
“You were having some kind of nightmare.” She lifted something off my forehead, a wet towel, I realized belatedly. She replaced it with a new one.
The details of the dream were already fading. “Not a nightmare,” I murmured. “Not exactly.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but I was fairly confident it wasn’t a standard dream. I’d had plenty of adventure dreams before, but the voice that I’d heard… I recognized it. I’d only heard it once before.
It was the same voice that had spoken to me when I’d gained my attunement.
Certainly, the mind was capable of fabricating such things… but I didn’t think so. The details of the encounter were lost to me in my waking state, but it didn’t feel like the product of my ailing mind, nor even some sort of prophetic vision.
It felt like a memory.
But a memory of who?
Selys, the goddess of the towers?
A possibility, but I didn’t think so. Initially, at least, the vision seemed to come from the perspective of that old swordsman. I didn’t recognize him. A previous wielder of the sword, perhaps?
Lars had said that the sword, Selys-Lyann, was cursed. I’d assumed he’d been spinning a tale to make a sale, but what if there had been some truth to it?
I shivered, and not because of the cold.
My eyes scanned the room. “Where’s the sword I was wearing?”
Sera frowned. “That’s the first thing you’re going to ask? Seriously?” She retracted her hand from mine to cross her arms. “It’s under your bed. Professor Vellum left strict instructions not to let you use it. You need to talk to her once you’re recovered.”
Sitting up took significant effort. My back felt like someone had stuck a basket of needles in it.
Sera ruined my accomplishment immediately by pushing me back down with a firm hand. “Stay. You’re not going anywhere for a while.”
From the pain that was building in my temples, I knew she was right. I lifted a hand to rub my forehead. “What happened?”
“A better question.” Normally, she’d be smirking with a line like that, but not the slightest hint of mirth traced across her lips. “You almost died.”
I blinked. I almost died?
That took a few moments to process.
“How? Wasn’t that just a simulation?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, and you still somehow managed to almost kill yourself. How typical.”
When I didn’t reply for a moment, she elaborated with an exasperated wave of her hand. “You somehow managed to wreath yourself in ice that spread on its own. Then you lost consciousness. You were lucky the tests are closely watched. They pulled you out almost immediately. Thing is, the ice started spreading again as soon as they melted it off you. Vellum apparently woke you up long enough to get you to toss the sword aside, which stopped the effect from propagating further.”
Oh, is that what that was?
“Uh, oops?”
She raised her arm. I flinched back, but the blow I’d expected never came.
Instead, she slipped her arm under me and gave me a crushing hug, burying her head in my chest.
“Never do that again.”
I felt my hands quiver at the unexpected contact. I… wasn’t used to being touched in a way that didn’t involve violence, at least not in the last few years.
It helped that it was Sera. I pictured when we’d held hands as children. It had been perfectly normal, even comforting, when we were little. I hadn’t associated touching with pain back then.
I took a deep breath and, slowly, returned the hug. “I’m sorry that I worried you.”
I was surprised to find that I actually meant it.
After three years away from everyone, I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have friends.
I pulled her closer, feeling her tense, then relax at the gesture.
“I’m okay,” I said.
That part, unfortunately, was a lie.
* * *
The next morning, I woke to find Sera sleeping in the chair next to my bed. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.
I’d been raised to expect Sera to be my retainer. Looking after me while I slept, to make sure I didn’t somehow manage to get myself killed? Classic retainer business.
Now that she was presumably the family heir?
Honestly, she’d have been better off if I had died. Less competition that way.
I wouldn’t have expected her to think in those terms, of course. As practical as Sera could be, I never expected her to make a utility calculation about the value of my life.
Was she actually thinking of me like a sibling now?
I didn’t know what to make of that.
I missed Tristan. I missed him desperately, and I was still firm in my resolve that I’d find a way to get him back.
And when he was back, we’d rebuild our family. He’d always been the unifying one, the one who was effortlessly charming and limitlessly talented. Mother and Father had been so proud of him.
But as much as I loved my brother, he’d never been the gentle sort. He wouldn’t have been watching over me here. He’d have assumed that coddling me would have just encouraged future weakness.
That was my father’s philosophy, and we’d both been trained to believe it completely. I didn’t start to have my doubts until after Tristan was gone.
I was grateful that Sera had never been raised with those values.
Her eyes flickered open as I sat up, awkwardly dislodging my covers. I was feeling vastly better, but Sera looked wretched. I doubted she’d gotten much sleep.
“Hmm?” She mumbled. “What time is it?”
I shrugged at her. “Don’t know. It’s Wyddsay, though, unless I slept through more than one day.”
“You didn’t.”
“Then you can sleep in. No classes to worry about.”
She nodded blearily, and I pulled back the bed’s covers and pointed a hand. “In.”
Sera grumbled as she shifted from chair to bed, and I helped pull off her boots. I wasn’t going to let those filthy things into my sheets; I had standards. Next, I eased her into the covers. She mumbled something I couldn’t hear, and then turned away. I saw the slightest crack of a smile on her face as she began to drift off. She was fast asleep in moments.
* * *
Professor Vellum wasn’t quite as friendly with her morning greeting. From her grimace when I walked into the office, I knew I was in for a lecture.
“Ah, it’s the prodigy of idiots.”
I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “And a good morning to you too, professor. As always, your kind words bring warmth to my frigid heart.”
She folded her arms. “Don’t you snark at me, boy. There’s only one seat for snark in this office, and I’ve had it claimed for quite some time.”
“I suppose a duel of wits for the chair is out of the question.”
Vellum chortled. “Please, child. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘death of a thousand cuts’? That’s what the last fool who challenged me got, though the truth was that he could only comprehend one jab in those thousand. You wouldn’t last a round.”
“Don’t attribute to inability what more rightfully would be called disinterest. When the time comes for our contest, I won’t need a thousand strikes to match your own. A single one will suffice.”
She laughed in earnest this time. “A bold claim.” She waved a hand as though she were clearing smoke and grew serious once more. “Though not amusing enough to make up for your little stunt in the test. Now, sit your too-clever rear. We have actual business to discuss.”
Aww, but that was just getting entertaining.
I lifted some books off one of the chairs across the desk from Vellum’s, set them on the floor, and then took a seat. Belatedly, I noticed the top book’s title, Runes of Frost. Interesting.
“So, nearly killed myself, I hear?”
Vellum took her own seat. “I understand that your nonchalance is a way of deflecting from real concern, but I need you to take this seriously. Yes, you very nearly killed yourself. That is not a matter for jest.”
A corner of my mouth turned downward, but I nodded. “I understand,” I told her.
“I don’t think you do, or you wouldn’t have done it.” She was matter-of-fact, neither teasing or scolding in her tone. “Set the sword on the table, and draw it out enough to expose the runes.”
I followed her instructions. It was only at that point that I realized that the feather I’d attached to the handle, the one meant to block the sword’s supposed curse… was gone. My lips tightened as I considered possibilities for how that could have happened.
She raised a finger, pointing at the four runes. “How many of these runes do you understand?”
I glanced it over, thinking about my research, and pointed to one of them. “This is some sort of advanced variation on an ice rune. The others… I’m less sure about.”
“And you still felt it was wise to bring this weapon into a simulation.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t have any evidence to indicate it was dangerous.”
“You didn’t have any evidence.” She raised her hands to shield her eyes. “I will not demean your intelligence again, but you must consider this seriously. You did not have any evidence it was dangerous because you did not understand the weapon at all.”
That felt a little unfair, but she did have a point. “I’ve practiced with it, both alone and with Teft in dueling class. Also, I heard a bit about it from a former climber, and took some precautions.”
“Oh? And what sort of precautions did you take?”
“I bought a gryphon feather to counter the curse on it?” I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly.
Vellum leaned across the table, glaring. “You mean to tell me that you brought a weapon that you believed to be cursed into a test?”
I winced. “I thought the feather was sufficient to handle it?”
Heh. Handle it. Unintentional puns are the best. I didn’t laugh, though. Her glare was a little too intense for that.
“You… didn’t happen to find my feather, did you?” I asked hesitantly.
“Oh yes, I found the remains of a feather,” she said, her voice pleasant. Had her eye twitched? “Frozen and blackened. It crumbled to dust when your friend attempted to pick it up.”
Well. That was more than a little foreboding.
“Okay, I admit I may have miscalculated.”
“You were unwise. But, in fairness, so was I.” Vellum sat back in her chair. “I saw the sword on your hip when you first visited, and I failed to recognize it. That oversight was as great as your own, and for that, I apologize.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I… accept your apology?”
She nodded amiably. “Good, good. Now, you’ll also accept some rules.” There was steel in that final sentence.
Oh, that sounds bad.
She raised a finger. “One. You will not bring that weapon into any further simulations.”
It was a brutal restriction — the sword was one of my key assets — but it made sense.
She waited for my nod before she lifted a second finger. “Two. You will not train with the sword without my direct supervision. We will schedule lessons for you to learn how to wield it properly.”
That was going to slow me down considerably, but I still nodded again.
Third finger. “Three. You will read this book on empathic weapons.” She slid a book across the desk. “I expect you to study it closely if you expect to use the weapon during your visit to the tower later this year.”
I blinked. “Empathic weapons?”
Vellum nodded, pointing at the fourth rune. “This is a spirit rune. It is among the rarest enchantments to find on an object, and among the most dangerous. When you wished to shield yourself from fire, the sword responded. It continued to attempt to shield you even after you lost consciousness. This rune is why.”
I blinked. “You’re saying the sword is intelligent?”
“Perhaps intelligent is too strong a word. Without a detailed study, I cannot say if the sword is self-aware. It does, however, have a spirit bound to it, and that spirit is bound to act according to your will. This gives the weapon tremendous potential power… but if misused, it could easily be fatal to you or your allies.”
I remembered a flash of the dream, the swordsman holding this same blade. Was the spirit tied to the sword his own? Perhaps that explained the dream. I could have been seeing one of the weapon’s memories.
I hadn’t seen how that memory had ended yet, but I was pretty sure I knew where it had been going.
“Okay. I understand your restrictions and accept them.” I pointed at the exposed surface. “Can you explain the other two runes?”
Vellum looked where I had indicated. “One of them is an extremely advanced rune for interfacing between sword and wielder. The fourth rune,” her brows knit together, “I confess I don’t recognize. A rare event, I assure you.”
Interesting. “Do you think it poses an additional threat?”
“Everything we do not understand is a potential threat, Corin. It is, however, also a potential advantage. I will write the rune down and search the archives in my own free time. My curiosity would permit no less.”
I saw the gesture for what it was. “Thank you, Professor.”
“Now that you’ve been thoroughly chastised, I suspect you owe your friends a visit. They were quite concerned.”
Friends?
Oh, she meant my team members. I hadn’t really processed most of them as friends yet, other than Patrick. I still wasn’t sure I could call Marissa a friend; I barely knew her. Jin was closer, but he was more of a business associate. Probably.
“I’ll do that, but another question first.”
She waved for me to continue, a weary look on her face. “And what other nonsense did you have in mind?”
“Without the sword, I’ll be at a significant disadvantage in future tests. You mentioned you’d teach me ‘real enchanting’. I’d like to get started on that as soon as possible, so I can build some sort of replacement. And, once I’ve talked to the others, I’d like to start building equipment for them as well.”
“I understand that you’ve already made a number of objects of dubious value for one of them.”
“Those were commissions at his request,” I replied. “But, having seen how challenging this test was, I’d like to make some other items on my own initiative to help everyone succeed. There are a couple of problems, however.”
“Problems?”
“First is my lack of knowledge, which I hope you’ll help me address. Second is a lack of funds.”
“Ah, yes. Money. The perpetually shrinking resource of any intrepid Enchanter. I can’t help you. Even if I was to take you on formally as my apprentice, our school has tight restrictions on the resources a professor is allowed to give a current student. The rules are designed for students who want more resources to push themselves into Phoenix Hall. If we could give away funds however we wanted, it would diminish the incentive for students to work toward better grades.”
I didn’t entirely agree with that. There would always be good students that didn’t have the ability or interest to secure a mentor, and they’d benefit from getting into Phoenix Hall. Still, I could understand the intent. It was possible I needed to take working toward Phoenix Hall a bit more seriously.
“I could still use advice on how to make money without losing the limited time that I have to study,” I pushed. I’d thought about apprenticing to that automobile salesman, but I knew that would take more hours than I was willing to sacrifice.
“Have you considered selling enchanted items? Finished products can often sell for considerably more than the material costs.”
I nodded. “It’s occurred to me, but I’m not sure how I could compete with factories that mass produce the most useful enchanted goods. I mean, maybe I could make something more obscure that a climber might find useful, but then I’d have to spend time finding someone who wanted to buy a niche item.”
“Let me test something.” She placed her left hand over her gloved right and stepped over to my side of the table. She pressed two gloved fingers against my forehead. “Your mental mana here is abysmal. Have you even been practicing?”
I withered away from her touch. “Um, I sort of don’t like to use my mental mana?”
She shot me a look of disbelief. “Whyever not?”
“I, uh, really don’t like the idea of losing my mental acuity. Or, you know, killing myself by accident.” My shoulders rose defensively.
“Like you did with your sword, you mean?”
“Okay, okay.” My hands went up in surrender. “I accept that I made a mistake with the sword. But,” I added, “that doesn’t mean that showing caution about something else is a bad idea.”
She snorted. “Have you been using your attunement?”
“A little bit, here and there.”
Her fingers jabbed my forehead again. “And what mana, exactly, do you think you’re using for that?”
I didn’t have a good response to that. The answer was obvious. “I didn’t think…”
She didn’t wait for me to finish. “And have you been killing yourself when you use the attunement? Or losing a significant degree of mental acuity?”
“In fairness, I’m not sure I’d be able to tell if I was losing my ability to think clearly.”
“You would.” Her tone brooked no argument. “Your headaches will reach a crippling intensity long before you lose any significant mental acuity. If you’re impairing your ability to think, you’ll know, and you can stop. It is imperative that you practice using your mental mana, and not just through using your attunement. It is the only reliable way to advance your attunement to a greater stage. And if you truly wish to make useful items for your friends, or to make a profit, you need to be able to reach at least a Carnelian-level in that attunement.”
“I… understand.” I sucked a breath in through my teeth. “But I still don’t know if I’m going to be able to make myself do it.”
“Keep your attunement for at least a few hours each day, then. See how it feels. It’s not as effective for building your mana as larger expenditures would be, but it’s mild exercise, and you’ll begin to feel the side effects gradually. And for you, any progress would be better than none.”
I felt myself nodding slowly at her rebuke. “I’ll try. But you mentioned that the gauntlet I made was already Carnelian-level… doesn’t that mean that I can make Carnelian-level enchantments as it is?”
“Not all Carnelian enchantments have equal complexity. The difference between an E-ranked Carnelian Mage and an A-ranked Carnelian Mage is about a three times difference in power. I would rate your enchantment at the bottom of the Carnelian scale, and it took you considerable effort — and a major mishap — to complete it.” She paused, looking thoughtful.
“I will find some practical enchantments that you can use to practice your Mind Magic, and then sell at a profit. I will sell them for you, putting my own integrity at risk, for a portion of the item’s cost. Once you are close to Carnelian-ranked yourself, I will teach you a broader variety of things to build.”
I nodded. “I suppose that’s the best I could ask for. Thank you, Professor.”
She rubbed at her temples, walking back to slump in her seat. “Get that sword out of my sight, Corin. I will expect to see you here again next Wyddsday and each subsequent Wyddsday at ten o’clock. Until further notice, weekends will exist only in your fondest memories.”
They say the mark of a true swordsman is a cut so swift you never feel the wound until you begin to fall.
No weekends? The professor taking an undisclosed portion of the profits on items she taught me to make?
It was only after exiting Professor Vellum’s office that I realized how thoroughly I’d been outplayed.
* * *
I headed to the dining hall next. I desperately needed food; the test had taken a lot out of me. I planned to bring something back to my room for Sera as a token of gratitude, but I found her already there, seated with most of my team.
Only Jin was missing, presumably off doing mysterious Jin things.
“Hey!” Patrick practically bolted out of his seat when he saw me. “You’re okay!”
I nodded. “Yeah, let me grab some food and I’ll join you.”
I picked out more than I’d probably end up eating, then sat down across from Sera. She looked a bit better now. Presumably, she’d managed to get a couple more hours of sleep after I left.
Patrick prodded my arm. “Are you feeling up to moving around? Shouldn’t you still be in bed?”
I smiled at his concern. “I’m fine, really. I think I just needed to sleep it off. Vellum’s lecture hurt more than the ice, believe me.” I shook my head at the memory, wincing.
“Ooh, I’ll bet.” He popped a carrot into his mouth, munching loudly.
I glimpsed across the table toward Marissa. She was looking down at her food very deliberately. It seemed she wasn’t comfortable being friendly with us yet. That was fine. We’d get there.
I turned to Sera. “How’d your team do?”
She made a hushing gesture with a finger. “Can’t talk about it here. Oh, you were out when they mentioned all that. No talking about the test in mixed company. You can talk to the team, but that’s it. No one else. Not even teachers.”
“Seriously? That’s absurd.” I made a face.
“They’re going to ask us if we told anyone outside the team about the test when we go to the next one, and again after that periodically. Under truth spells, of course. Anyone fails? Out of the school.” She waggled her fingers.
“Seems a little extreme,” I said, blinking.
“It works, I suppose.” She shrugged one shoulder with disinterest.
I nodded. “Let’s finish this food up and go talk elsewhere, then?”
Sera nodded. “Sounds like a good plan.”
* * *
Cramming four people into my tiny dorm room was, however, less of a good plan.
Sera and I ended up sitting on the bed. Marissa got the chair. Patrick lounged comfortably against a wall.
Jin still wasn’t with us, but knowing him, I’d be shocked if he didn’t have some kind of way of listening in on things in my room.
That thought was simultaneously comforting and terrifying.
“Okay,” I turned to Sera. “Let’s talk.”
She nudged me. “How’d your team do?”
I folded my arms. “I’m pretty sure my team ‘died’.”
Sera snickered. “Seems like that’s the idea,” she told me. “You’re just supposed to get as far as you can. We lasted longer than you did, but not by much. We’ve got another group test in ten weeks, and I suspect it’ll be the same test to see if we’ve improved.”
That made sense. There was way too much going on in those rooms to get them right on a first try. I still had no idea what the deal with the box in the first room was, and that rotating statue…
I grimaced as I remembered it turning toward me.
Yeah, that one was definitely designed to beat us on the first try. The pulses of the fire were made to show us a pattern, and then they broke the pattern deliberately.
“Any idea how we scored?”
“The team shares a score. We got a sixty three. Average was fifty, highest was eighty seven.” She sounded satisfied. “Not bad for our first team activity.”
I scratched my chin absently as I absorbed that. “What’s the cutoff for failing out?” I wondered.
“It was thirty for this test. And it sounds like about ten percent of the teams fell below that. The passing threshold for the next test is seventy five.”
I blew out a slow breath. If I failed and got expelled, I could be stuck with going straight into military service. Then I’d have to wait several years before I could take another shot at the tower.
That was unacceptable. “Seventy-five seems like a pretty high bar just to pass.”
Sera shrugged. “Yeah, but it makes sense if you think about it. These tests are designed to see if we’re ready for going in a Climber’s Gate. That’s much more dangerous than our Judgments were. If we can’t pass a simple test like this, we’re not ready. Honestly, I think there should be mandatory tests like this before anyone is allowed to take their Judgement.”
I strongly agreed with her on that point. I also thought we did better with this group than I would have with any other team members, so I was pleased by how far we’d made it.
We’d just have to prepare better for the next one to make sure we passed.
“Okay,” I said, “good. If you think we’re going to go back in the same rooms, we should probably go over the specifics of our rooms. Anyone got paper?”
The only blank paper I had on hand was a magic talking book, and I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of using that for discussing a test. Fortunately, Patrick had some paper in his backpack.
“Let’s draw out what we found in each of the rooms.” No one disagreed with me.
We spent the next few minutes drawing our maps, then I explained what we’d encountered in the two we’d seen. Some of it was new to Patrick, since I’d been the only one who’d made it into that flame statue room. Patrick filled in things that I didn’t know in exchange.
“Jin used some kind of identification magic on the box,” he told us. “All he got out of it is that the box is keyed to open when the right item is pressed on a certain spot. There’s definitely something inside it, too.”
“There was a key in our room we didn’t find any use for,” Sera explained. “It’s possible we’re supposed to switch members across rooms to get it to your room. There were some places on our side we didn’t get to, though.”
“You said you got further than we did — what was your side like?” I shifted to get a look at their maps.
Sera pointed to a circle in the center of her room map. “We started out on this little platform surrounded by water. There were these pillars that came up from the water that we had to jump to, but there was a serpent in the water.”
She pointed to some smaller circles. “There were a few platform paths. We started with the one that led to the left door, got about halfway before the serpent tried to chew on us. Then Marissa hit it with her explodey punch.”
Marissa scratched the back of her head, reddening a bit. “Uh, it’s actually called Star Descends from Sky, Miss—”
Sera waved a hand dismissively. “Right, right. So, she exploded the serpent, which made things a lot easier. Got to the door, but it was locked. Spent a while hopping between platforms. One of ‘em was empty, one led to seemingly nothing, but a couple led to switches. We hit those and a key showed up on the empty platform.”
Marissa looked like she wanted to say something, so I nudged Sera to stop talking. Sera flicked me with a finger, but she apparently got the message.
Given a window of silence, Marissa chimed in. “There were things under the water, too. I saw a grate, and another serpent — a bigger one.”
“Probably just to eat us if we fell in the water.” Sera twitched her nose. “I guess the grate could be a thing, but we found the key to the door.”
I thought back to my own misadventures going through a grate in the floor of a tower room. It was a real possibility that thing represented a second exit. “Did you try going down there?”
“Of course not.” Sara sounded irritated. “At a minimum, we needed to check the obvious door first, and we did. The key from the platform opened it.”
I scratched my chin. “What about the platform that seemed to go nowhere?”
“Seemed like a false path,” she said with a shrug.
“Might have been an invisible platform at the end,” I suggested.
Sera frowned. “Neither of us had any way of seeing invisible stuff.”
“That’s what swapping team members is for. Jin or I could have handled it.”
“Maybe,” her words were clipped, “but we were doing fine on our own.”
“Not trying to knock you down here, Sera. You did better than we did, and that’s great. But we should be scouring every inch of these rooms. That’s going to take teamwork.”
Sera took a deep breath. “All right,” she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She took another breath and rotated her shoulders, loosening her posture. “You’re right. I suppose we could have used some magic eyes. If we get stuck in the same room next time, I’ll swap Jin in to take a quick look.”
I nodded. “Assuming we use the same teams next time.”
Patrick gave me a dejected look. “You think we should change them?”
I held up a placating hand. “Maybe, maybe not. If we think we’re going to be in the same rooms, it might be advantageous to switch things up and get new skills in each of them. Or maybe I’m overanalyzing things and we should just do the same stuff faster next time.”
“Faster?” Sera looked thrown at the shift.
“Toward the end of my test, I started hearing a bell ringing in the distance. It was going faster and faster. I’m pretty sure I was running out of time; that’s part of why I rushed my second room.”
“Never heard anything like that on our side. Did you, Mara?” Sera looked at Marissa, who shook her head in response.
From the context, I picked up that ‘Mara’ was a nickname for Marissa I hadn’t heard. I liked it.
Sera expression grew contemplative. “Maybe specific things give us time extensions, or take time away.”
That made sense.
“All right. What was in your second room?” I asked.
Sera grinned, which I supposed was an improvement from her poor mood earlier. “The dragon.” Or perhaps it wasn’t.
I pursed my lips and glared at her. “A dragon.” My tone was dry. It seemed she was done being serious with the conversation.
“Yup,” she said, amusement in her voice. “Big ‘ol dragon, sleeping on a pile of treasure. Right out of a story book.”
“Dragons aren’t real.”
“Right,” she agreed cheerfully. “But they can put whatever they want in a test.”
I rolled my eyes. “I figured they’d want to make this as much like a real tower climb as possible.”
“Eh, we’re hearing new stories coming out of the towers every year,” she countered dismissively. “They change. Maybe eventually there will be a dragon in one of them.”
“Okay,” I sighed. “So? What’d you do?”
“Well, after we were done staring…” She paused when Marissa coughed and sent her a wink. “We snuck over, quiet as we could, and gawked at the treasure. Tons of magic-looking items in the pile. When we got near the top, we could see a door on the other side. Buuut,” she threw out her arms in exaggerated despair, eyes turned to the ceiling, “it was locked, of course. We tried to play it smart. Looked through the pile until we found a key.” She pointed to a point on the map on the map. “It was on the far right side, underneath a helmet.”
I took note of where she indicated. It sounded like the kind of test where any kind of greed would wake the dragon early.
“The dragon woke right up when I touched the key. Roared like thunder having a bad day. By that point, we were running for the door.”
I leaned in, hooked despite myself. “And then?”
“Thing takes a deep breath, breathing fire all over us.” Sera jerked a thumb at Marissa. “Mara steps in front of me, waving her hands in this circly thing, pushing the fire back like a fan. We still get a little scorched, but the sigils absorb it. I make it to the door and try the key — it doesn’t work.”
Oh, those bastards.
Sera continued, “The dragon flaps upward, flying over the pile, and lunges straight at us. Mara jumps at it, hitting it with her explodey punch, right in the jaw.”
Marissa winced at another use of “explodey punch” to describe her technique, but didn’t say anything.
“There’s a flash as the punch ignites the air, but the dragon is unfazed. Doesn’t even slow down. Snaps its jaws right around Mara’s chest.” Sera put the back of her hand against her forehead. “I screamed in vengeful woe for my fallen comrade, summoning a storm of ice to tear into the dragon’s scales. It screamed into the air, injured,” she ignored Marissa’s mortified mutterings in the background and lifted her chin, “and breathed another blast of flame toward me. I raised an ice wall, but the dragon’s flame was too intense, and I didn’t have Mara to protect me.”
Marissa was flame-red. She had one hand up to cover her eyes.
Sera dropped the dramatic pose. “The next thing I knew, I was waking up outside the test room.”
I considered the story. “Probably did better than I would have,” I concluded.
Sera shook her head. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about that. Your sword might be the key to that fight. The dragon was definitely weaker against ice.”
I looked down, dejected. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not allowed to take it into tests anymore.”
“Oh.” Sera was silent for a moment, then put her hand on top of mine. “Well, it doesn’t matter. We’ll find another way to handle it.”
“Yeah.” I thought for a moment. “Seems like we both lost to fire, actually. And ice was useful on both sides for this test.”
“True. You thinking we should learn more ice spells before the next test?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’d be good for you and Patrick. I can’t cast ice. Not sure about Marissa.” I sent the Guardian a questioning look.
“No’ at my level,” Marissa denied. “I’ve ‘eard some Masters can, but I’m a long way off from that.”
That was interesting. I hadn’t heard of higher levels of attunements giving access to more types of mana. I’d have to research that more later.
I really needed to do more research on higher levels of attunements in general, especially after that conversation with Vellum. If being a Carnelian Mage was going to be necessary for manufacturing anything useful, I needed to make that a high priority goal.
Patrick pointed at my glove. “Couldn’t you make an ice gauntlet or something?”
I chewed my bottom lip, considering. “I’d need help from you or Sera, but yeah, it’s possible. Not sure if the gauntlet is the best option. We seem to need defense more than offense.”
“Could you make us shield sigils that use ice magic?” Sera asked.
“Maybe. Not sure how exactly that’d work. I think I’d have to find a rune that detects fire mana or just generally intensive heat to turn the shield on, then trigger an ice barrier. The problem is that ice is harmful to us; that’s how I nearly killed myself.”
I took a moment to think about it. “If I could make the ice barrier show up outside of our normal shield as a first line of defense, theoretically our normal shields should protect us against the cold…but I’m not sure the shield sigil would even activate. Maybe I could link them so that the normal shield always activates when the ice one does…”
“Could you make the ice shield a second function of the same item, like how your gauntlet can do two things?” Sera offered.
“That’s not a bad idea, but I’m not sure our normal sigils have the mana capacity to handle a second function. I might have to make new ones from scratch, probably out of a higher capacity material… but that’s not a bad idea. I could make the normal shields stronger, too, that way. It’s just expensive.” I nodded anyway. “I’ll look into it.”
“I can’t learn ice spells,” Patrick mused, “but if it’s a flying monster, maybe I could learn some air magic.” He turned to Sera. “Any chance you could teach me that ice storm thing? I mean, I couldn’t cast the spell itself, but if it’s half air and half ice, I could probably learn the air part. Maybe I could make a lightning storm by modifying it or something.”
She shook her head. “I can try to teach it to you, but I don’t know if you could learn it. I’m directly invoking one of the creatures I have a pact with; it’s not the same kind of spell that Elementalists use.”
“Oh. Shame.” Patrick frowned, and then shook it off. “I’m sure I can find something.”
Sera tilted her head to the side. “We could still try it… Let’s talk about it later. Besides that, I thought you were training with Meltlake? Wouldn’t she be able to teach you better air spells?”
That was news to me. Sera seemed to be keeping better track of Patrick than I was. Not surprising, really… I was pretty bad at keeping up with what my friends were doing. I’d need to improve on that.
“Uh, she’s training me,” Patrick confirmed, “but Meltlake doesn’t really teach air spells.” He looked sheepish. “Or lightning spells. You know how a lot of people don’t live up to their name? Yeah,” his voice cracked as he drew out the word, “she’s not one of those people. On the plus side, I know lots of ways to light things on fire.”
That got some snickers from the group, but it also got me curious. “Has she given you any hints on how she does the big stuff? Like, you know, whole lakes?”
He shook his head. “She’s been pretty tight lipped on that. I’ve heard some rumors from the other students, though.”
“What sorts of rumors?” I asked.
“Well, the most popular one is that she’s ascended.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. “Seriously? I know Meltlake is impressive, she’s probably one of the most powerful people here, but… Are Ascended Attunements even real?”
He shrugged. “Some people say that a parent or a friend saw her duel, and that her hand was glowing gold when she cast that spell. I know, I know, that could be anything, but the whole ‘Ascended Attunements glow gold’ thing is a popular story.”
It wasn’t impossible; there were numerous witnesses to her duel and they agreed her power was on an unbelievable scale. Still, just being an Emerald Elementalist might have been sufficient to do what she had. There were, supposedly, only a dozen or so Emeralds in the world. Their capabilities weren’t broadly known.
I decided to move on. “Okay, anyone else have suggestions for next time?”
Marissa looked nervous, so I turned to her. “Marissa, what’s on your mind?”
She startled, glancing from side to side. “Well, I don’t mean t’be rude, but… M’lady Sera, you’re a Summoner, yes?”
We all knew the answer, but Sera nodded. “Sure?” she replied.
“Well, I don’t know much about yer attunement, so I don’t aim ta presume. But I didn’t see you actually… summon any monsters?”
Sera shrank. “I, uh, can’t actually do that just yet. I’ve only made one pact, and I don’t have enough mana to summon it. Not even a fragment.”
That made sense, but it made me suspicious. What kind of thing did she make that pact with? The ice theme was obvious. I’d initially assumed she’d found some sort of low-level ice elemental. Could she have found a strong one? Maybe I wasn’t the only one who had an atypical tower adventure.
“Oh, forgive me, I didn’t mean—”
Sera waved her apology away. “No problem, Mara. It was a fair question. I’ll practice. I doubt I’ll manage a summoning in ten weeks, but maybe by the last test.”
In spite of brushing the comment off, I could tell Sera looked pretty bothered by her admission. I leaned into her. “Don’t stress about it. At least you have an attunement that works in combat. And that ice storm spell is the strongest thing we have.”
She nodded without answering.
I looked back at the others. “Okay. Anything else? Actually, maybe you can all give me a wish list with the types of magical items you’d be interested in? I can’t promise anything soon; I’m pretty much out of money. But maybe I can scrape some things together over time. I’d like to get each of us at least one new item before we hit the real tower.”
Patrick and Marissa looked introspective. Sera, on the other hand, folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at me.
“You already owe me a gauntlet,” she reminded me.
“Oh. Right.” I grabbed one of the papers we’d used and wrote that down on the blank side. “Do you want it to be any different from mine?”
She considered. “You can make them use any type of mana, right?”
“As long as someone else can provide the mana to power it, sure.”
She glanced at Patrick. “Right now, I’m limited to only throwing ice. That makes me a lot less versatile than Patrick. But if Patrick is willing to help charge a gauntlet for me…”
I nodded at her logic. “You could be throwing fire or lightning, even though your bound monster only gives you ice. Yeah, that makes sense. We’d need it to recharge itself, though, since you wouldn’t be able to power it with your own mana.”
She nodded. “You willing to help us with this, Patrick?”
He blinked. “Uh, yeah, of course, Sera. Whatever you need.”
I looked at him quizzically. He didn’t usually sound that nervous.
“Okay, great,” I said, dismissing it. “That can go on my list… after the ice shields.”
Sera shot me a withering glance, but I put my hands up in a warding gesture. “The gauntlet is a good idea, but it’s not practical for the immediate future. We need the ice shields more for the next test or two.”
“Assuming the dragon and statues are the biggest problems we run into, yeah,” she retorted. “But what if there’s an ice elemental further in?”
“We need to survive the dragon first,” I pointed out. “I don’t think we’re equipped to do that yet, unless we can figure out a way to bypass it entirely. If ice shields are too specialized, maybe I’ll just make us higher capacity shield sigils. And we can ask Jin if he thinks he can handle the dragon through invisibility or something. But since we don’t even know how to unlock your door, I don’t know how far speculating will get us.”
“Fine, fine.” She sighed. “But I get the first improved shield thing.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay.” Turning to Marissa, I asked, “You need anything?”
She blinked, pointing a questioning finger at herself. “Me?”
“Yeah, Marissa. You’re a part of this team. It sounds like you did great in there, but I’d still like to know if you’d benefit from anything else.”
She blushed openly at the compliment. “I, erm, s’pose I could use somethin’ that makes me hit harder? If that wouldn’t be too much trouble for you, m’lord Corin.”
“Sure. I seem to be making gauntlets into a theme, and you punch things. Would wearing a gauntlet interfere with your techniques?”
She shook her head. “No, m’lord, many Guardians use gloves or punch knives. I’d prefer somethin’ light, though, if ye don’t mind too terribly. I like ta move my hands.”
Hm, maybe cloth gloves, then? But they don’t store a lot of mana… I’ll have to think about that.
“Makes sense. I’ll see what I can come up with.” I scribbled ‘Gauntlet of Punching’ down on my list and turned to Patrick. “You got any ideas, Patrick?”
Patrick brightened at finally getting his turn. “Something to amplify my spells. Give them a little more kick.”
Not a bad idea. Might be good if we could get him to the point where he can handle that shadow monster in one or two hits.
“Amplification items are tricky, but I’ve already done a little research on them. It’ll probably have to be a single element one for now. You good with something that makes your fire spells stronger?”
His eyes went wide and he vibrated with enthusiasm. “I’d love that.”
“Okay. I’ll see if I can put something together, but you’ll probably need to help me build it, since it’ll take fire mana.” I looked at Marissa. “Also, I might need your help for your own gloves, Marissa.”
Marissa nodded. “I’d be glad to serve you.” She was still blushing a bit. I didn’t understand why.
I wrote down ‘Fire Amplification Amulet’ below Sera’s gauntlet. “Okay. I think we’re good for now. Let’s plan to meet up and talk about ideas again in a week. We’ll grab Jin next time, too.”
After that, I nudged them gradually out of the room. I had a lot of work to do.
* * *
The next few days involved a lot of studying.
Professor Vellum had assumed that telling me that using my attunement was already draining my mental mana would make me more comfortable using it directly.
She’d been wrong. It had the opposite effect.
I was now deathly afraid of using my attunement at all.
I knew it was irrational. I hadn’t suffered any obvious side effects from using the attunement, and I knew that other people used their attunements actively all the time. The attunements were built for people to use them.
But I still couldn’t get past the idea that I was going to burn out my mind.
So, I turned to alternate ideas for how to make my attunement stronger.
I dug through books, bothered teachers, and nagged second year students for ideas. Advancing attunements was one of the main goals of any student, so there were lots of studies on different ways of doing it.
Most techniques were designed to supplement practice with the attunement itself. Some of them were attunement-specific exercises. Summoners tried to make as many small summoned fragments as possible, or to quickly summon and dismiss the same one. There were different schools of thought about how Elementalists should train, but usually they involved casting the biggest spell you could and then resting and doing it again.
For Enchanters, the most popular method was just to enchant progressively stronger items, but relying as heavily as possible on the mana that was directly connected to your attunement.
So, pretty much the exact opposite of what I’d been doing.
I hit up the Divinatory and learned that my mental mana had advanced from my minimal use of my attunement, but only a bit. I’d gone from starting with 18 at the beginning of the year up to 22.
I was informed that most students had somewhere between 30 and 60 mana in their attunement’s location by this time in the year. I was lagging pretty far behind in that area, but I’d improved my right hand’s mana considerably. It’d gone from 24 at the start to 40, just under double.
Apparently, having more mana somewhere outside of my attunement was a very bad idea, because I got scolded for it by no less than three different students and teachers before I left.
No one seemed to be able to tell me why it was so bad to have my mana unbalanced like that; they just seemed to be regurgitating what they’d heard elsewhere. Still, I tried to internalize a core part of the message. I really needed to bump that mental mana up as quickly as possible.
On the plus side, I knew my enchanting was working for improving my mana. I’d just been improving the wrong type.
My first idea was looking into a way to shift my mana from my right hand into my mind. That way, I could keep training the same way and just convert the mana over.
So, I did some reading on that. Apparently shifting a person’s mana balance was an entire field of study, and strongly connected to ongoing research in how to make artificial attunements. There were some promising studies coming out of Caelford, but the essence of what I learned was that I’d need to study for years to even start attempting that kind of thing.
It was a fascinating subject. The idea of making artificial attunements appealed to me on a very fundamental level. I kept some of the books and planned an eventual trip to Caelford to talk to some of the researchers there, but for the moment, that was nowhere close to a viable approach.
Next was looking for ways I could boost my mana without exercise. This was, of course, also something that had already been heavily explored by others. Virtually everyone wanted to avoid doing work, or find ways to make it more efficient.
I found out that they were having a relevant lecture in the alchemy class the following week, so I dropped in on it. The teacher, Professor Zou, was a short woman that looked like she hailed from Dalenos.
“Many of you have asked me how to distill enhancement elixirs. The answer is simple: don’t. You are not ready.”
She pointed to a student. “Yun. Why do Enchanters not transfer mana into other attuned?”
The student stood. “Every person has slightly different mana, Professor. The body resists and rejects foreign mana.”
Professor Zou nodded. “Yes, this is true. You may sit.” As the student sat back down, she lifted one of the vials from a stand on her speaker’s podium. “This is the simplest of enhancement elixirs. To create one, a student must learn to collect their gray mana into a liquid state, which is already a feat that most students cannot learn until they are of Carnelian Mage level. Then they must purify it. Even some Citrines cannot do this through their attunement alone. Instead, we have studied how to distill mana. But an ordinary still will not work for this purpose; heating the mana to evaporate it will alter it toward an affinity with fire.”
The teacher drew a multi-chambered device on a slate at the back of the classroom. “This is an elixir still. It is not a standard alchemist’s still; it is specifically designed for this purpose. This chamber houses the liquid mana. This funnel,” she pointed at the design, “is used to add in a distilling agent. The agent is a unique mixture based on the exact composition of the base mana, designed to force it to evaporate while exposed to room temperature air. From there, the evaporated mana collects here.”
Professor Zou pointed at another chamber above the vial. It led into a diagonal-facing tube that pointed toward another large chamber. “This tube is a condenser. Typically, a non-magical apparatus is used to cool this chamber, gradually re-forming the mana into a liquid state. It gradually drizzles down the tube into the collection chamber, here.”
The professor pointed at the last chamber in the diagram. “If you have succeeded, the elixir will be collected here. There are numerous points of potential failure. If you were incorrect about the original composition of your mana, the potion is toxic. If you mixed it with the wrong distilling agent, your potion is toxic. If you mixed in an extra drop of the distilling agent, your potion may be toxic.”
She steepled her hands in front of her. “And, for all this effort and risk, a basic enhancement elixir,” she raised the first vial she’d shown us, “will not raise any of your mana types by a single point. You would need to drink these elixirs for weeks to see any noticeable effect. Stronger elixirs exist, of course, made by Citrines and Emeralds. The least expensive of them are sold for hundreds of gold. The greatest elixirs are often traded for artifacts or entire plots of land.”
…So, that approach was going to have to be put on hold.
I considered asking about the liquid that I’d taken from the inside of the tower, but I wasn’t comfortable sharing its existence with a teacher that I didn’t know. I decided I’d try to do a bit more research on the water on my own first, and I’d approach her or one of the other teachers about the fluid later on.
On the positive side, I was more excited about the capabilities of alchemy than I ever had been previously. Just the existence of permanent enhancement potions was a potential for changing lives. If I could find a way to make these enhancement elixirs in a more efficient manner than the established methods, I could not only make a fortune — I could potentially change society.
Of course, I hadn’t even made a single basic potion yet, so that kind of thing was a long way off.
The class did lead me to another important discovery, though. Something the teacher mentioned casually at the end of the class.
“If you’re desperate for a method of strengthening yourself, go to the market and purchase iros fruit. They are a natural food that contains a small bit of gray mana. Eat one each day and you will grow strong in time.”
I did some research on that. Most sources agreed that they worked, but it was very slow. So slow that some sources disputed that the fruits themselves were doing anything, since people could grow stronger mana pools from every day activities.
Still, the fruits were cheap, so I started adding them into my diet. I also learned about other fruits that were said to contain other forms of mana and, grudgingly, I turned on my attunement for a few seconds to look at each of them in the market.
They did glow. Faintly, very faintly, but they did glow.
I bought lavris fruit by the bunches. They supposedly contained a little bit of mental mana, and any of that might help. They looked a little weird. A bit like apples, but with blue skin and more juice. They tasted fine, though. More like a peach than an apple, but tolerable.
Now that I knew about them, I started noticing a lot of other students were doing the same thing. The fruits weren’t served in the cafeteria, but I often saw people walking around with them, or even bringing some with them to regular meals. Apparently, my idea wasn’t revolutionary, but that was fine. As long as it worked, it didn’t need to be.
By the end of the week, my mental mana was up to 27. The gain was much bigger than what I’d been getting per week up to that point, so the fruit was helping… but not enough to catch me up completely.
If I wanted to hit Carnelian before I went back into the tower, I still needed a better plan.
* * *
The next weekend, I arrived on time at Professor Vellum’s office as she’d directed me.
She wasn’t there.
I sat in a chair next to her door, studying with the expectation that she might never arrive, for a good half hour before she finally deigned to show up.
Vellum walked right past me without a glance, unlocking her door, and stepped inside.
I rolled my eyes, waited about a minute, then knocked.
“Come in.”
Vellum sat behind her desk, sipping from a steaming cup of tea. She hadn’t had the tea with her when she entered. “Well, well. You’re actually here. I confess to a bit of surprise. Perhaps you won’t be my greatest disappointment.”
I sighed, taking a seat in the chair across from her. “I’ll endeavor to be at least your second greatest disappointment, then.”
“Ah, that’s the spirit.” She gave me a wry smile. “I can appreciate a bit of ambition. Now, what are we studying today?”
I pursed my lips. Wasn’t she supposed to guide the lesson?
No, of course not. This was Vellum, she wasn’t going to make anything simple.
“We’re going to work on elemental shielding sigils.” I reached into my bag, withdrawing a few pieces of paper with sketched-out rune designs for a few ideas on how they might work.
She tilted her head at the papers, glanced them over, and looked back at me. “Because you got a little torched in the last test? Pfft. Don’t bore me, Corin. You’re being reactive with that, not proactive. That means it’s only going to solve a very specific problem.”
Vellum shook her head, setting her cup down and pointing at one of the papers. “This won’t work.” She flipped it right onto the floor, looking at the next one. “Better, but the central sigil is wrong.” Flip. “This one is worse than the last one, but the third sigil is interesting.” She slid it back toward me. “You can finish them on your own.”
I picked up the discarded papers from the floor. “Thanks.” I folded them gingerly and set them back in my pouch.
“Now, what are we going to study today?”
I frowned. I didn’t know exactly what she was looking for. Something more like the sword, with unique or hard to find runes?
That wasn’t what I wanted. I spat something out without even thinking about it. “I want to make something that continuously makes me stronger.”
Vellum grinned. “Ah, now that’s interesting. An item that feeds mana to the user?” She leaned forward. “Possible, possible. Suitably ambitious and interesting.”
“Aaand,” she poked me in the forehead, “you’re only asking so you can run away from one of your problems. So the answer is still no. Try again.” She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms.
“Last try, or today’s session is over.”
I sank down in my chair. I’d liked that idea. So, in a moment of spite, I said, “Fine. I’ll research that one without you.”
“Oh?” Her eyes glimmered with an inner light. “Will you now?”
I sat up straighter. “Yes. And not just to ‘run away’, as you put it. Regardless of whether or not I start training my attunement in the way you want me to, something that passively feeds the user more mana would be incredibly useful.”
“Oh, yes. We’re in agreement. In fact, it was one of the first items I invented. I was already a Citrine Mage at that point, of course, but I’m sure you’ll manage something. Eventually.”
My desire to loot Vellum’s office for all available items sharply increased.
I stretched my arms. “Of course. I’ll have to take my time to ensure my design is the best available. In the meantime, you can help me with another project. It’s a mana filtration system.”
Vellum raised an eyebrow at that. “What do you mean by that?”
“I took an alchemy class. They talked a lot about how difficult it is to make enhancement elixirs, since you go through a lot of work to purify them,” I explained.
“So, they’ve got this complicated distillation apparatus to get the mana into a pure state so people can drink it. I read up, and people have made all sorts of items for detecting the composition of the starting mana and the result — but they always use physical means to evaporate the liquid and purify it.” I didn’t have a drawing to show her for this; I was coming up with this idea on the spot. I just took out a piece of paper and slid an ink pen and inkwell over.
“I’m familiar with the concept, of course. Using mana on the base liquid just taints the result.”
“Right. But what if the mana you were putting into a vial was already in a pure state?” I started scribbling down some mind runes on the page. “We build a device that has all the types of mana stored in it in small amounts. They all self-refill. Let’s call it a glove, like the one I wear. I put it on, it senses my mana. I push mana through it via whatever process I’d normally use to liquefy my mana.”
I hadn’t figured out exactly how to do that yet. I’d read up a bit, though, and it didn’t sound that hard. Getting excited, I continued. “So, then the gauntlet detects the composition of my mana, and it adds whatever types it needs to compensate for the impurities. The result?”
I left the answer open so she could share in my enthusiasm.
Professor Vellum sighed. “Your hand explodes.”
My face went through several contortions before finally settling on unhappiness. I didn’t like my hand exploding. “What? Why?”
“I’m sure you’re thinking about that ‘opposites nullify’ tripe that Teft likes to throw around, yes? But that’s not true within an object. You let fire and ice meet inside your glove? Lose a hand.”
I grimaced, but that sounded solvable. “Okay, maybe the filtration could happen while it’s flowing out.”
“It doesn’t matter. Adding energy to the liquid isn’t going to just target the opposite component within that liquid. You’d be saturating the entire mana formula with that energy. You’ve got fire mana somewhere in the solution, so you bombard it with ice mana. The fire mana is nullified, but now you’ve got a solution that’s tainted by ice. It’s no better.”
I sighed in grudging understanding. “Okay, so I’d need to be able to inject exactly the right amount of mana into exactly the right parts of the solution without tainting anything else. That sounds hard, but possible.”
“Oh, it is. It’s just also harder than the normal distillation process.” She took a sip of her tea. “But don’t despair. It’s actually a good idea. You’re trying to improve an existing process, and that’s the core of what true enchanting looks like. You’re questioning established methods. I doubt this particular one will bear fruit in the way you proposed it, but you should keep thinking about it.
“Not here, in this meeting,” she clarified. “Study. Think about the problems in your current approach and how to solve them.”
I nodded gratefully. That was probably the most encouragement she’d ever given me. “Okay. What about for now?”
“What about for now? I’ve turned you down on three ideas. You’re done for the week. Come back next Wyddsay and have something better for me.”
“Okay.” I paused for a moment, thinking. “But before I go, I’d like to work on some items for the test, and I need funding. You’d mentioned giving me some items to work on that you could sell?”
“I haven’t forgotten our arrangement, but it seems to me like you haven’t been practicing your mind magic enough to be useful yet.”
I tensed my hands. “I’m pretty sure I can manage some basic item commissions.”
“Basic isn’t what sells, boy. But,” she relented, “I do have a few things you can work on.”
Vellum opened a drawer in her desk, withdrawing a small stack of papers. She passed them over to me. They were all intricately-written enchantment designs, many of which used runes that didn’t even resemble ones I’d seen before.
“You may start with these.”
I scratched my chin as I skimmed over the first few designs. They each had at least a half-dozen runes, many of which I didn’t recognize at all. “These look pretty… involved.”
“What were you expecting? Anything of significant value is going to take effort, Corin.”
Fair.
“How much of the sale are you taking?”
The professor grinned. “Ah, I was wondering when you’d ask. Fifty percent.”
I narrowed my eyes as I considered that. “Fifty percent of net or gross?”
She chuckled. “Well, since you thought to ask, I’ll be kind enough to say net.”
So, half of the earnings from each item was going into the void. That was rough, but if she was giving me the designs and selling the items, it was probably worth it. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to front me the materials?”
She folded her arms. “You want me to take a cut of the net gains and provide the materials? What sort of business do you take me for?”
“A very kind and helpful mentor working with a promising would-be apprentice?”
She snorted. “Your optimism warms my shriveled heart. No, I think you’ll need to figure out your own source of materials. Otherwise, I could lose money from this arrangement, depending on how much you fail.”
I chuckled. “I appreciate your boundless confidence in my abilities.”
“I’m exactly as confident as I should be. This will be simple work, but it will not be easy — especially with your mana limitations.”
That made me grimace, just as it was intended to. “I’m grateful for your help regardless.”
“But if you’re really having material problems, you should think about a better way to solve that. A longer-term method. That’s the last hint I’ll give you.”
I nodded, picking up the papers and wishing her goodbye as I left the office. I didn’t pick up on what she was suggesting immediately, but I let it swim amongst the other ideas that were gradually forming in my mind.
Vellum was a pain, but she was probably the best mentor I could have hoped for.
Chapter XIV — Test Prep
I had nine weeks remaining to finish as many of Vellum’s designs as possible, get rolling on our own items — if I could afford to make any — and finish any other preparation I needed for the second exam. It sounded like a lot of time on the surface, but I’d only managed to make a single Carnelian-level item in the last ten weeks, and now I wanted to make dozens of them in the same period of time.
I’d written down everything I needed to make the items for my friends. I was a long way from being able to afford any of them, but I also had no idea how much Vellum’s items were going to sell for. I’d looked at the prices of goods at a couple shops, but I hadn’t been focused on cataloguing that information, so most of what I remembered was “everything is too expensive”.
That was something I decided to fix.
After a few hours of sorting through Vellum’s designs and taking notes on what they probably were meant to do, I headed toward the Climber’s Court.
I nearly ran right into a man who was on his way out. Fortunately, he reacted quickly and dodged out of the way.
The man looked like he was in his early twenties, with clean-cut short brown hair. He was wearing a long gray coat, similar in style to the ones we wore as students, but lacking the colorful epaulets that marked a specific division. He was clean-shaven, with unmatched swords on his hips. At a glance, he looked rather dashing.
More importantly, he had an attunement mark that I’d never seen.
I’d been seeing attunements since my childhood, but I’d never seen one that looked like that. It was a foreign mark; one from one of the other towers. I knew that dozens of other attunements existed, of course, and I’d even seen a few during large social events and the occasional sporting event. But this one stood out in another way, too.
Now that I knew about attunement levels, I had a pretty good idea of how common each of them were. Most adults seemed to be Carnelian-level. That seemed to be where most soldiers, teachers, and other professionals stopped. This guy was at least a Sunstone Mage, which put him in a similar category to Teft or Meltlake. Pretty impressive for someone of his age.
So, when I nearly blundered into this guy, I admit that I froze up for a moment. He probably could have taken my head off with a flick of his hand.
He just laughed, taking a step back and folding his hands. “Sorry about that! Didn’t mean to nearly clobber you there.” He extended a gloved hand. I managed to shake off my stupor long enough to give him a hand-clasp.
He narrowed his eyes for a moment as we shook. “You look familiar somehow.”
I tried not to look too intimidated by that. “Corin Cadence,” I managed.
“Oh!” He released his grip, grinning and stepping back. “I thought I knew you. Tristan and I went to school together.”
I must have winced at the sound of my brother’s name, because the stranger’s expression sank. “Ah — I’m so sorry. I just remembered… I’m so sorry for your loss.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. It’s been years now. Thanks for being so considerate.” I managed to peel my eyes away from his mark to glance his face over a little more carefully…but he still didn’t look familiar. “I’m sorry, I fear I can’t remember your name.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry, you were probably still a child last time I visited. I’m Derek Hartigan.”
“Pleasure to meet you again, Derek.”
“Likewise!” He glanced downward, frowning at something. “That sword you’re carrying… is that for sale?”
I was a bit taken aback by the question. “I hadn’t considered it, but probably not? It’s has a degree of sentimental value.”
“Ah, of course. Not a problem. I’m just something of a collector of rare weapons.”
Had he recognized my weapon at a glance? I didn’t realize it was that famous… But maybe he had another attunement that was helping him identify it?
Or maybe he just had a strong mana sense? I didn’t know much about foreign attunements, and I wasn’t sure if he had one that was of an information gathering style. I’d need to research that.
“Sorry to disappoint you. I’ll let you know if I’m ever looking to sell it, though, or if I come across any others.”
He looked pleased at that. “Excellent. Well, I’ve a Survival Match to win later today, so I must be off. You’re welcome to come watch if —” he cut himself off. “Ah, but you’re still a student, aren’t you?”
I glanced down at my very distinctive uniform, but decided not to make a big deal of it. “Yes,” I said simply.
“I suppose you’d be too busy, then. But if you happen to have the time, we’re starting just after six. And I could get you in without an entry fee.”
“Survival Match?” I asked.
“Ah, haven’t seen one yet? It’s a competition. Warriors in an arena lasting as long as possible against summoned monsters. The team that lasts through the most rounds of monsters wins the prize.”
“Is that… safe?” It didn’t sound like it.
He chuckled. “Of course! The Summoners can always force their monsters to stop attacking, and we always have Menders on the sidelines. I think you’d enjoy it — your mother was an expert in her day, you know.”
I… hadn’t known that. Honestly, I knew very little about Mother’s hobbies.
“…I’d be interested. Let me see if I can make the time. Where is it?”
He reached into a pouch, took out a piece of parchment and wrote me an address. “It’s at the Esslemont Arena, just a few miles from campus.”
I took the slip. “Thanks. I hope I can make it. If not, maybe we’ll see each other around again sometime.”
“I’d certainly hope so. Stay well, young Cadence.”
“Good luck tonight.” I flashed a polite smile.
He cracked his knuckles. “I won’t need it.”
Judging by that single attunement? He was probably right.
* * *
With that minor delay out of the way, I finally made my way into Court.
“Oi! Corin!” Lars grinned and waved at me as I entered.
I looked around, noting a few other customers already browsing. Unusual, given the early hour. “Morning, Lars. How’s business?”
“Can’t complain. That lad you nearly crashed into bought one of my favorites, so I’m in mourning. Fortunately, I have a new bed of silver to cry into.”
I laughed. “You have my condolences for your loss. What’d he buy?”
“Quick-keen. A dagger that can pass through armor like it ain’t there. Saved my life more than once, it did. Why, back in my third year as a climber—”
“How’s it know what qualifies as armor?” I interrupted.
He folded his arms. “Don’t ask me how it works, boy. You’re the one with the toy maker’s mark, not me.”
I made a rude two-fingered gesture and he gave a deep-belly laugh.
Lars leaned on a nearby countertop. “So, what’re you here for today? Going to try to cheat me out of my hard-earned loot, or maybe just my hard-earned money pile?”
“Well, if you’re offering to part with it—”
“Bah!” He slammed a fist on the counter, then winced and inspected the wood for cracks.
Typical.
“Just here for research, really. Although it might help bring you some business.” I stepped over to the closest table, pulling out a blank journal and a fountain pen. I’d bought them both recently out of necessity; the latter was an excellent tool for practicing runes, but much more expensive than traditional quill pens.
“Oh?” he asked skeptically. “And how’s that?”
I made a wide gesture across the store. “Everything here is too expensive for students. If I could sell you some cheap items—”
Lars shook his head. “Noble idea, lad, but I don’t sell cheap items for a reason. My customers know that anything they’re going to pick up here is going to help keep them alive in that tower.” He gestured toward the Serpent Spire’s location outside.
“Sure, but even a veteran climber could probably use a few more small trinkets, right?”
“Maybe, but I’m thinking no. When you wear items too close to each other, they tend to interfere with each other. You can only carry so many before they stop working. Or worse.”
I scratched my chin. I’d heard similar things before. “What if I could make something useful that you could still sell at a low price?”
“As a rule, I don’t sell anything below Carnelian-level. Much as I might like you Corin, you aren’t a Carnelian yet.”
“Fair, I’m not. But I can make a few Carnelian-level items.”
A “few” might have been exaggerating, but I’d made one. How hard could it be?
“Won’t give you a deal without seeing what you’re offering. But go ahead, do your research. Can’t hurt me to take a look.”
I grinned at that. “Thanks, Lars. You’ll be the first on my list when I get around to making this stuff.”
Professor Vellum had mentioned selling the items herself, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t sell some on my own.
I snickered to myself and got to work.
* * *
It turned out that magical items were reshing expensive.
I’d known this, of course, but I hadn’t really seen the scale or ubiquity of it until I left the court and hit the other three nearby shops I’d known about. Lars liked to brag about how good his deals were, but I never expected those boasts to be true. I liked Lars, but he was the kind of guy who turned chasing a mouse into a story of mythic proportions.
As it turned out, he was beating his competitors not only in variety, but also in prices. Even his stuff was nowhere near my price range, though.
On the low end? Two or three hundred sigils for a basic Carnelian Mage-class item with a single function.
Something Sunstone Mage level? Several thousand, and they were scarce.
Citrine Mage enchantments? Tens to hundreds of thousands, and I didn’t even find any on display. Not surprising, considering that was enough money to buy a house. A nice house.
Anything higher wasn’t even listed.
In fairness, there were some items that were considerably cheaper, but they were all of the limited-use variety, and I fully supported Vellum’s view that those were vastly inferior. I’d have considered buying one if it had a life-saving function, like a really powerful healing or teleportation item, but I never saw any of those for sale.
So, on the minus side, I wasn’t going to be buying any of these items outright any time soon.
On the positive side?
I managed to find a few Carnelian-level items up for sale that were similar to the ones Vellum wanted me to work on. And, when I checked the material costs — usually about four to five medium-sized crystals of varying mana types for each of them — I knew I could make them for a fraction of what they were selling for. About a sixth of the sale cost, in most cases.
That meant that even with Vellum taking half of my net profit, I’d still be making almost triple the material costs. Of course, that was assuming Vellum sold the items for a similar price to Lars, but I thought that was a fairly reasonable approximation.
The main problem?
I didn’t have enough money to get started, and Vellum hadn’t been willing to give me a loan.
That was when I realized what she’d been trying to get me to think about in the first place — the obvious idea that I’d somehow been missing for weeks.
* * *
I headed back to Vellum’s office almost immediately, finding her still inside.
“How do I make my own mana crystals?”
The ancient professor cracked a rare grin. “That was faster than I expected.” She waved a hand to the chair on the opposite side of her desk. “Let me show you.”
Vellum extracted herself from her chair, trudging over to one of the shelves on the left side of the office. She groaned and reached for a box on a high shelf. I expedited the process by walking over and pulling it down for her.
The box was a simple wooden one, maybe twelve inches across, and closed with a simple latch. I handed it over to her.
“Thank you, dear. Now sit back down.”
I sat. She took the box over to the central table and opened it. Inside were about a half-dozen clear crystals. It took me a moment of inspection before I realized they were hollow, but they didn’t have any obvious openings.
“I haven’t had to look at these in years. Students usually don’t bother looking into making their own mana crystals.”
I scratched my chin. “What are those? Some sort of mold?”
She nodded. “That’s a good way to think of them, but ‘practice mold’ would be a better way of putting it. They’re a tool for learning, but you shouldn’t need them once you’ve mastered the process.”
Vellum lifted one from the case. “These prisms are made of quartz, which is magically inert and capable of containing mana. The simplest way for a student to create a mana crystal is to channel mana of the appropriate type into the hollow interior.”
I leaned across the table, taking a closer look. “Wouldn’t that just be energy trapped inside a prism, rather than making a crystal?”
“Initially, yes. Once you have enough mana to fill the chamber, you must condense the mana into a solid state. This occupies less space than the mana does in a solid form. Typically, students find it easiest to focus on ‘pushing’ the mana into a corner of the crystal, then ‘hardening’ it.”
She paused for a breath. “It is also possible to simply continue to channel mana into the structure until there is enough to harden it into crystal all at once, but most students find that more challenging.”
I tilted my head. “That sounds like shaping, not enchanting.”
Vellum sighed. “It’s a common misconception that only specific attunements can perform certain basic activities. There’s a significant amount of overlap between some similar attunements. You’re not a Diviner, are you? And yet, you can still see mana while activating your attunement, something that would be typically classified as Divination.”
She offered me the prism, and I took it, turning it over in my hand. While I inspected the device, Vellum continued speaking. “Similarly, Summoners can call on elemental magic from their bonded monsters, even though they’re not Elementalists. The more you learn about attunements, the more obvious it becomes that they’re just parts of a greater whole. When you start seeing attunements from other towers, you’ll see even more examples.”
I nodded, but the idea of changing the state of mana just seemed so integral to the Shaper Attunement that I was having trouble accepting that I could do it myself. “Should I try it here?”
“Goddess, no, boy. I don’t have time to watch you embarrass yourself. If you can’t figure it out in a week, come see me again. If, by some miracle, you manage to fill all these crystals, you can bring them all back here and I’ll show you how to extract the mana. Do not break my practice prisms trying to get the mana out.”
I set the prism back inside the container. She shut the lid and pushed it over to me.
I accepted the box, pondering aloud. “If Enchanters can make our own mana crystals, why isn’t every Enchanter in the school doing it?”
“It’s difficult, and not particularly rewarding. The first crystals you’re going to make are going to be weaker than the smallest type found in the tower. Stronger crystals have a higher density — that is, more mana in a crystal of the same size. You can’t just keep adding more mana to a crystal you’ve already made, however. Once it’s solid, it’s solid. You can’t force more mana into it.”
I nodded, following the logic. “So, I need to be able to pack as much mana as possible into a small space…then solidify it after that.”
“Precisely. And because you need to do it in a single session, it’s not possible to make a crystal with a greater value than whatever portion of your mana capacity you’re capable of expending all at once. Which, at your level of skill, isn’t much.”
“Okay, that makes sense, but it’s essentially a way of making free money. I assume it’s easier for more advanced Enchanters than it would be for me. Why aren’t they making dozens of crystals and flooding the market?
“There’s no point. If you’re a Citrine-level Enchanter or higher, you probably don’t need the kind of crystals you can make yourself. Most crystals are relatively cheap, because most non-Enchanters have no use for them, and practically every monster in the tower has a crystal at their core. Magical items, however, are quite expensive. For a veteran Enchanter, it’s vastly more efficient to buy crystals for a pittance and then make and sell fully-assembled items for ten or more times the cost of the materials.”
That made sense, but I still figured it would be a useful skill to be able to make the components I needed to enchant something. There was a key flaw — I’d only be able to make crystals for the mana types I could generate in my own body — but that still meant I could make the crystals necessary for some basic devices, like more shield sigils. I could live with that.
I did have one more question, though. “You said these are for practice. What’s the next step?”
“Focusing your mana in the air, forming a solid crystal without a shell. It’s vastly more difficult, since mana quickly dissipates when exposed to air unless you force it not to.”
Vellum steepled her fingers. “You can either learn to make and solidify crystals so rapidly that there’s minimal mana loss, or you can learn to create a solid shell out of mana. The latter effectively mimics the current function of the prism, and then form the rest of the crystal inside the shell.”
Both approaches made sense to me conceptually, but the latter definitely sounded easier. “Okay. How long do you expect me to take to learn to be able to do that?”
The professor chortled. “You probably never will. Once you’re over your little financial hurtle, you’ll probably stop bothering with this process entirely. Almost everyone does.”
That sounded like a challenge.
“But, if I wanted to, how long would you expect it to take?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Hundreds of practice attempts. Most likely several months to a year.”
I resolved to figure it out by the end of the week.
* * *
I sat in my room, focusing on channeling mana from my right hand into the empty space inside one of the crystals. It was a familiar enough process, similar to powering a rune, but I wasn’t used to trying to push mana through something.
The crystal wasn’t very porous, which I’m sure was part of the point. The structure made it harder for mana to escape, but it also made it tricky for me to get mana through the crystal and into the empty space within.
It took a few minutes before I was confident I was managing to get any mana into the prism at all, and even then, it was slow. Excruciatingly slow.
Several times, I wondered if I was doing something fundamentally wrong. Was I supposed to be able to just manifest my mana directly inside the crystal without forcing it through the prism first?
Probably not. That was probably what made the process different from what a Shaper could accomplish. I could shove mana out through my hand, but I needed to stay in contact with the energy to do anything with it. A Shaper could sense and restructure mana remotely, which was how they could make things like phantasmal swords that floated in the air — or, at more advanced levels, things like simulacra.
I felt a pang of disappointment that I’d ended up with an Enchanter Attunement rather than something as obviously useful as the Shaper one would have been, but a Shaper couldn’t make permanent items, and I was enjoying that too much to feel too bad about it.
If the goddess really had played a role in giving me my attunement, she’d probably been closer to right than I’d given her credit for. And there was nothing saying I couldn’t get a second attunement later on. The trials in the tower would be much more difficult, but I was confident I could face them eventually.
After an hour of practice, I had a pounding headache.
I may have panicked a little bit when I realized that.
I hadn’t been trying to use my mental mana. My hand was throbbing from the mana I’d syphoned out of it, but I’d expected that, and I was fairly used to it.
I wasn’t just pouring raw mana into something this time, though. I was actively concentrating on detecting the structure of that mana, both to get it inside the crystal and so that I could eventually try to condense it into a solid.
That meant I was using my mental mana to monitor my progress, without even realizing it.
And I’d used more of it than I’d ever knowingly used before.
I stopped immediately, barely having the presence of mind to lower the crystal back into the box. With my focus gone, the mana would dissipate, but I didn’t care.
I just sat there shaking, agonizing over the possibility that I’d caused myself permanent mental damage through some stupid practice exercise.
Deep breaths.
It took me a good ten minutes to calm myself down. I reminded myself of the lectures — how I’d get headaches long before I suffered permanent damage, that I’d notice if I was causing myself cognitive harm — but they weren’t particularly reassuring.
No amount of reassurance could completely neutralize an irrational fear.
I ran fingers through my hair, massaging my own temples. I might have made the headache worse by fixating on it, but I couldn’t not think about it.
After another few minutes, I managed to get my head together sufficiently to realize I needed a distraction. I chewed on an iros fruit while I headed to Sera’s dorm. I didn’t know if she’d be around, but just having a goal helped me defocus somewhat.
Fortunately, she answered her door when I arrived. I didn’t know what I would have done if she’d been gone.
“Corin?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you okay? You look…off.”
“Headache,” I offered, as if that explained everything. “Do you remember Derek Hartigan? One of Tristan’s friends?”
She folded her arms. “I don’t think so. I was never as close to Tristan as you were.” There was a hint of something sharp in her tone. Was it resentment? I couldn’t tell.
I just nodded along, not wanting to stir up any more negative feelings she might have had. “I didn’t remember him, either, but I guess he remembered me. And I’ve heard of the Hartigan family. I think I’ve read a book by one of them. Anyway, he’s apparently fighting in something called a Survival Match tonight. He said my mother used to compete in them?”
Sera shifted her footing, giving me a quizzical look. “Yeah, she used to love those when she was younger. You didn’t know that?”
I felt a momentary pang of shame. Or maybe that was just the headache again.
Probably shame.
I’d been close with my mother once. Before Tristan’s disappearance, we used to sit and read together. Sometimes, she’d tell me stories about our family history — she seemed equally familiar with the genealogy of both sides — and the legacy I’d need to live up to. At the time, I’d been proud to be descended from war heroes and famous politicians.
She’d scarcely said two words to me since she’d left. Not that I’d put in the effort either, though. That letter I’d written her about Keras was the only communication I’d sent her in at the last couple years. I wrote her more often right after she’d left, but I gave up after a while.
I told myself that it wasn’t my responsibility, that she was the adult, and that she was supposed to be the one taking care of me.
I was starting to realize the situation was more complex than that, but I still didn’t have the will to do anything about it. Not yet.
Getting Tristan back would be the first step toward repairing my family.
I shook my head, dismissing errant thoughts. “She might have mentioned it. Anyway, he invited me to watch, and I figured I’d see if you wanted to come along.”
“How uncharacteristically social of you. I should wear my best, since this is clearly a special occasion.”
“I’m pretty sure our school uniforms are the most formal things we have here.”
“I said best, Corin, not most formal.” Sera gave me the kind of smirk that said she was plotting something. I couldn’t imagine how she hoped to embarrass me with what she was going to wear, but I was sure she’d manage it if I didn’t put a stop to this now.
I held my hands up in surrender. “Normal clothes will be just fine.”
Sera raised a hand to her lips, eyes turning upward in thought. “I suppose, but what if—”
“Normal, Sera. We’re going to look perfectly normal.”
She sighed, folding her hands in front of her. “Fine, fine. You always spoil my fun. I suppose I’ll come and keep you company, since you’re clearly ailing right now and need my support.”
I nodded, sincerely grateful. “Let’s go find this place.”
* * *
Sera insisted on arriving significantly early, but we managed to get lost long enough that we only arrived slightly early.
Esslemont Arena didn’t look like what I expected. It wasn’t an ancient-style coliseum or sports arena. Instead, it looked a bit more like a vast opera house, with expensive décor and expansive interior.
At the ticket sales counter, I mentioned we were there to see one of the combatants. They sent someone to inform Derek, and he arrived a few minutes later.
“Corin, you made it! And who is this lovely lass? Your lady love, perchance?” He gave me a knowing look. I returned one of existential horror.
“…uh, no. She’s family. Anyway, I know you mentioned you could get me in, but you didn’t say anything about two people, sorry. I can buy us tickets, I just wanted to let you know I’m here.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense, your family is always welcome. I’m sure I can get you both into an excellent box…but I might have a better offer.”
“What sort of better offer?” Sera asked.
Derek glanced at her, then back at me. “How would you like to try fighting in there?”
I blinked. “I’ve never even seen one of these matches. I have no idea what it entails.”
“It’s not that bad, Corin.” Sera nudged me. “You should do it. Assuming he’d get a cut of any winnings?”
“Of course, of course.” Derek looked me up and down. “You already look well-equipped. You’d be doing me a tremendous favor. My partner dropped out at the last minute, you see, and I’m desperate for someone to fill his slot. I can handle the fighting on my own, for the most part… but I’m signed up for pairs, and they won’t let me in without a partner.”
Ah. Now that explained a great deal.
“I’m still not sure I’d be the best person to bring in there, although I truly appreciate the offer. My attunement isn’t really made for direct combat, but…”
“I’ll do it,” Sera interjected.
She turned around, pulling up her shirt to reveal her Summoner Attunement mark on her back.
That wasn’t strictly a scandalous action — she wasn’t showing much skin — but I was a little surprised and embarrassed to see it. Not because of the location, but because I’d assumed that her attunement was on her right hand, underneath the glove she always wore.
In retrospect, the fact that she always used incantations for her spells was a pretty big indication that her attunement mark was over her lungs. That was characteristic of their style.
“Well, well. You’re a Summoner, Miss Cadence? I think that would complement me quite well…in the arena, of course. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced yet. Derek Hartigan.” He extended a hand. She slipped her glove back into place and reached to shake his hand. He bowed and kissed it instead.
Seriously?
I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help myself. For some people, kissing someone’s hand might have been an old fashioned greeting, but this guy just came across as theatrical.
Sera grinned brightly, showing her teeth. “Well, well. A gentleman. You could teach my brother a thing or two.” She glanced at me, then back to him. “I’m Sera…Sera Cadence. Charmed to meet you.”
I folded my arms at her own theatrics. She winked at me.
She was enjoying this.
With introductions complete, Derek spoke to the gentlemen at the ticket counter, and then escorted us inside.
The clientele were generally well-dressed: top hats, canes, and a few ladies and gentlemen in more obscure fashion. I even noted a few wearing eye masks, similar to the one Keras had worn. That brought him back into my mind.
Had he survived that confrontation with Katashi? Mother’s letter seemed to indicate that he had. I had mixed feelings about that, since I had a pretty poor opinion of the visages, but I knew they generally seemed to work for humanity’s benefit.
There was a good chance that Keras was truly a dangerous criminal, especially if he served the Tyrant in Gold. I’d grown up with stories about how the Tyrant had conquered continent after continent, enslaving millions for his empire. I didn’t know how much of that was true, though, and Keras’ heretical claims about the Tyrant seemed to be at the core of what had started this whole mess. I’d need to do some research on the Tyrant’s children eventually, but it wasn’t a high priority at the moment.
In the meantime, I found myself sitting in a plush chair in high box over what looked like a vast stage. There were dozens of boxes like our own, as well as multiple levels of general seating in more traditional bleachers. Near the stage itself, I also spied an orchestra pit, with a full orchestra setting up their instruments.
Maybe this was an opera house. It was set up very similarly to an opera or theater, with the key exception that the main floor area was significantly larger than any opera stage I’d seen, and there wasn’t any seating down at the stage level. All the seats were overlooking the area where the battle would be taking place.
After a minute or so of searching, I was able to pick out the runes at the edge of the stage that marked the bounds of a barrier field. It was very subtle; the soft glow of the runes blended in with the ambient light cast by lanterns hanging nearby.
This is actually a lot like the way the council room was set up, but this actually looks safer for observers. Maybe the city council should get rid of whoever designed their building and hire a theater architect.
There was only room for two seats in our particular box, so Sera sat while Derek stood and pointed down into the theater area.
“That’s where Sera and I will be fighting once it’s time to begin. I had a few other options, but I feel privileged to have found you, Miss Cadence. I’ve worked with a Summoner before, but never one as striking as yourself.”
From the way Sera’s lips tightened, I could tell she was already starting to regret this.
To Derek’s credit, most people our age probably would have appreciated his complements.
Sera, unfortunately, was more like me than I usually was willing to admit.
Since she had gotten herself into this to make me feel better, I felt a little obligation to ease her suffering. I turned to Derek. “What does she need to know about this? What sort of monsters will she be facing in there?”
Derek leaned back against the balcony, looking precariously close to falling onto the stage. “Typical tower stuff, mostly from the first few floors. I suppose you two haven’t done much of that yet, have you? No matter. You’ll get a chance to watch a couple rounds before we get in there. The important thing to know is the general structure.”
He raised a single hand, and then put a finger from his other hand in between his thumb and his pointer finger. “The stage will be sectioned off before we start. We’ll be in a section here. My other fingers represent walls. There will be monsters in each section.”
Derek lowered his pointer finger. “As soon as the match starts, they’ll lower the first wall, and we’ll have to fight the first set of monsters. After about a minute…” He lowered his middle finger. “They’ll lower the next wall, and another set will attack, regardless of whether or not we’ve dealt with the first set. This happens until the whole stage is revealed.” He closed his hand. “Then…”
He raised two fingers again. “The last monster will be much stronger than the rest. If we survive that, we’ll move to the opposite side of the stage, and the walls will reset. We get a brief reprieve while Summoners call down more monsters in between each of the wall segments. Once they’re done, the process starts over. Stronger monsters each time.”
Sera nodded. “How long do people typically last?”
“People? Most teams tend to get stopped by the large monster at the end of the first set. Me? My partner and I usually clear two full sets, at which point the Summoners are typically out of mana, and we’ll win for the evening by default.”
I really wanted to ask how much of that was due to his partner. I couldn’t think of a political way to phrase it, though.
Sera solved that problem. “How far do you expect us to make it?”
Derek’s eyes narrowed, and he folded his hands in front of him, looking at Sera with a serious expression. “I wouldn’t risk asking a first-year student to come in here with me if I didn’t think I could take care of this. If for any reason it looks like I’m going to let a monster through that could hurt you, though, step out of the ring. You’ll be out of the fight after that, but you can avoid being hurt that way.”
I frowned. “How do these things usually end, aside from exhausting the Summoners or the contestants leaving the ring?”
“Oh, usually the matches end when the contestants are too badly injured to stand.” Derek chucked. “But you’ve got me here. What are the chances of that?”
* * *
After that little statement, I took off my shield sigil and demi-gauntlet and handed them to Sera.
She blinked. “Can I even wear these?”
I nodded. “The shield sigils are weak enough that two probably won’t interfere with each other, but wear them on opposite sides of your tunic just in case. If you had five, they probably wouldn’t work. As for the gauntlet…the glove will be big on you, so it might be uncomfortable, but it should function.”
Derek furrowed his brow. “What does that glove do? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”
Sera slipped her normal glove off, and I helped her put the gauntlet on in its place. “It’s basically a dueling cane in glove form. Stronger than a typical practice cane, weaker than a full war-cane.”
“Hrm. Interesting. Magical items are legal down there — I have several myself — but I can’t say I’ve seen a glove with an offensive design. Should be quite interesting. Hopefully the crowd will like it.”
I wasn’t sure why that was relevant, but I realized Derek probably was here for more than coin. “Do more popular combatants get paid better or some such?”
Derek smiled. “Ah, an excellent question. Better fighters win both glory and more rewards. Each Survival Match is a self-contained event, with specific prizes for the winner and much smaller prizes for everyone else. Winning matches consistently, and in entertaining ways, has the potential to earn sponsors for additional sources of income. Finally, excellent fighters can earn their way into championship matches.”
Sera nodded along with his explanation. “And I take it you’re looking for sponsorship?”
“Oh, no, I don’t need that. I’m much more interested in an invitation to this year’s championships. They often have crowds of thousands, and the summoned monsters are often spectacular.”
In it for the glory, then. I sincerely hoped that attitude wouldn’t put Sera at risk. It would make him look bad if Sera was hurt down there, wouldn’t it?
I certainly hoped so.
My left hand settled on the hilt of the saber at my side.
Even if Sera was carrying most of my equipment, I wouldn’t hesitate to intervene if it looked like she was in serious danger.
I hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that.
“It’s time.” A well-dressed man appeared behind the box, bowing toward Derek.
“Ah, thank you Thomas. Miss Cadence, we’ll need to head below to prepare. Shall we?”
He offered Sera his arm. Sera flashed him another grin and accepted.
“Don’t get killed down there.”
Sera snickered. “Don’t get killed up here, either.”
“I will endeavor not to, but no promises.”
My grip tightened around the hilt of my sword as the pair disappeared.
* * *
Given what I’d seen of Derek’s attitude thus far, I was barely even surprised when he and Sera appeared on stage as the first contestants of the evening.
I’d been given a program booklet by one of the attendants, and he scheduled to be going toward the middle of the night. He was listed along with a partner named Elora Theas.
Had the organizers decided to move him and Sera up to an earlier part of the show, or had he deliberately manipulated this turn of events for some reason? I couldn’t be sure, but I was leaning toward the latter.
Perhaps even more interesting was his partner’s name. Elora Theas. Was she the Councilor Theas that had been working with my mother? That woman had been roughly Derek’s age.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” The voice seemed to emit from all around me. No announcer was visible. “Tonight, we present three-time champion, Derek Hartigan, alongside a new partner. Sera, of the legendary House Cadence!”
Polite, but subdued clapping from the crowd. The only cheering came from the bleachers sections, which seemed to be mostly populated by other students. The well-dressed nobles in the boxes were much more restrained with their applause.
A light emanated from a rune-etched tile above the theater, marking a line that divided off a small section of the stage. “Contestants, proceed to your starting area for the raising of the walls!”
Sera looked vastly less nervous than I felt. If anything, she just looked intense, her eyes focused straight ahead and her jaw clenched tight.
Derek looked joyous. He twirled on his heels, raising his hand to wave, and occasionally blowing a few kisses into the crowd.
When they reached the marked-off section of the stage, a voice boomed again.
“Contestants, ready yourselves! The summoning is about to begin!”
Sera glanced back and forth, showing a hint of nervousness for the first time.
Derek just stood with his back straight, his head held high.
“Walls…ascend!”
As the announcer spoke, four walls of solid mana appeared at equal intervals across the stage. I couldn’t see the casters, but I could recognize Shaper work. Walls of that size and thickness were fairly impressive. No student my age could manage anything on that scale. It would have been trivial for my father, but most magic tended to be.
The important part was that the walls were opaque, meaning Sera and Derek wouldn’t be able to see anything behind them. From my vantage point above, though, I could see each individual section in advance.
It was hard to tell from a distance, but I estimated each section to be about fifteen feet across, meaning a fast monster could close the distance between sections within a couple seconds.
The effect?
Tension, for both the people inside the arena and the watchers.
I drew in a sharp breath as the monsters began to appear and the musicians began to play.
“Contestants…Begin!”
The first wall lifted — and a dozen clawed monstrosities rushed the defending pair.
The creatures were humanoid, roughly four feet tall, with reddish brown hide. I’d never seen anything like them.
Sera stepped backward and raised her hand, firing a blast from the gauntlet into the onrushing crowd. The mana sphere tore straight through one of the creatures, downing it instantly, and burned the arm off of another.
My eyes narrowed. I’d built that thing. I knew it wasn’t that powerful. Was it more effective because these creatures were summoned figments of monsters, rather than real ones? I’d never fought a figment. I didn’t know how resilient they were.
Regardless of that early success, the other eleven were nearly on top of them by the time Sera recovered to fire a second blast.
Derek stepped in front of her, drawing his sword and swinging it in the same motion. A wave of flame swept out from the blade, incinerating four more of the creatures. He spun left, physically slashing one of the onrushing creatures in half, then unleashed a vertical shockwave of flame with an upward cut. The wave of fire tore another of the creatures asunder, while Sera fired another two blasts, eliminating two more threats.
The remaining creatures pulled back, looking wary.
Derek rushed forward with an expression of manic glee on his face, cutting the last few creatures apart in moments.
I joined in the ensuing clapping, but my mind was whirring in several directions. This seemed too easy, but then again, Derek had seemed very confident.
I noticed Sera rubbing her right hand with her left. She wasn’t used to using the gauntlet, but she’d been practicing with a dueling cane for years. I assumed she had a significant amount of mana to work with. I’d never asked. I hoped I hadn’t given her a tool that could potentially harm her.
“Stay back here and support me from range.” Derek’s voice was being amplified somehow. I could hear it clearly from my location in the box. One of the parts of the spectacle, I presumed.
“No problem,” Sera replied.
The next wall vanished, revealing a group of green and blue slimes. Sera whispered something.
Interesting, she must have been so quiet that the sound-amplifying spells didn’t pick it up.
Four spheres of ice appeared around Sera, rotating in orbit.
A defensive spell? I haven’t seen that one before.
Derek pressed forward, swinging his weapon with reckless abandon. The slimes never managed to get close; his blade tore them apart like paper.
I noted a long vein of crimson running through the center of the blade, meaning that the flames I’d seen before probably came from the weapon itself, not one of Derek’s attunement abilities. Or perhaps some combination of both, like how I’d learned to manipulate the aura of my own sword.
What is his attunement, anyway?
Derek was moving fast, but not the kind of faster-than-sight movement I’d seen from Keras. And it was consistent speed, not short bursts like I’d seen from Marissa.
I glanced ahead at the next few walls. Two barghensi would be next, followed by a single huge humanoid carrying a club.
An ogre.
My hands shook as I processed what I was seeing. Ogres were hideously strong, and dangerous enough that entire groups of experienced climbers would often avoid confronting them directly.
The next wall vanished, revealing the two barghensi. I balled my hands into fists as Derek advanced, dispatching the first one with a single slash to the head.
The other rushed past him.
“Ice, answer my command and form a wall!”
A glacial barrier stretched across the stage at Sera’s command, blocking the barghensi’s path. As it spun around, Derek leapt atop it, driving his burning blade into its back.
The creature slumped to the ground, twitching for a moment before it vanished.
As he rose, the last wall flickered behind him — and the ogre loomed behind him, ready to strike.
“Look out!” Sera yelled.
The ogre’s club descended with bone-shattering force.
Twin blades flashed upward to catch the strike. Derek, without even looking behind him, had parried the blow.
The swordsman spun on a heel, slashing with both weapons and lacerating the ogre’s front leg.
The titanic creature roared into the air, slamming its club into the arena floor with a reverberating crack.
Derek hopped back, glancing at Sera. “Think you could slow the big guy down for me a bit?”
Sera cracked her knuckles. “I have just the thing.” She waved a single hand at the creature. “Bind.”
A swirling matrix of symbols manifested around the ogre, wrapping around it and vanishing as the runes touched its skin.
It howled in response, charging forward, with no sign of being slowed.
Sera raised a hand above her head. “Frost, I invoke you to block his path.”
A waist-height barrier of ice appeared between the ogre and its prey.
It crashed into the barrier heedlessly and tripped, falling on its face. The frost showed no sign of damage.
“Not bad.” Derek walked over as the ogre began to pick itself up. “Never seen an ice barrier that could stop an ogre before.”
Derek jabbed one of his two weapons toward the ogre’s fallen form—
—and the ogre raised a hand, catching Derek’s blade between two fingers.
“Stupid humans.” The ogre muttered. “Always try the same tricks.”
Using two fingers, it pulled.
With its other hand, it slammed a fist right into Derek’s chest.
The swordsman flew backward, slamming into the first ice wall that Sera had made. He dropped his second sword on impact, and the ogre was still holding onto the first.
Oh, goddess. That’s bad.
…at least Sera’s safe on the other side of the wall?
Sera snapped her fingers. The wall of ice separating the pair disappeared.
“Oh, come on Sera,” I mumbled.
As Derek put a hand on the floor in a weak attempt to push himself from the floor, the ogre rose, looking barely injured from Derek’s earlier strikes.
The ogre flicked its hand and Derek’s captured sword flew straight toward his chest. Derek rolled to the side, snatching his other fallen blade as he evaded the throw.
Derek looked as if he was going to stand, but he fell back to his knees, coughing as the ogre retrieved its club and advanced.
Sera grimaced, raising both hands.
“Child of the goddess, I call upon your aid.
Rain frost from the skies in a Permafrost Cascade!”
Shards of ice materialized in the air above Sera, flashing through the air and piercing into the ogre’s flesh. It howled as the projectiles continued to bombard it, raising a hand to shield its eyes and charging at Sera, club poised to strike.
Derek slashed the ogre’s ankle as it ran past him.
It didn’t slow down.
Sera remained still, looking oblivious to the danger as the ogre neared striking range. Her summoned shards of ice continued to bombard the monster, but they were insufficient to strike a killing blow.
The ogre raised its club.
Sera’s right hand shot down.
“Slip.”
A patch of frost appeared in the ogre’s path.
The ogre hit the ice and began to slide forward, but it didn’t fall.
Within a moment, it had corrected its balance.
Sera’s eyes widened as the club swept toward her, too thick for her to dodge, too heavy for her to hope to parry.
A blade pierced through the center of the ogre’s back, and the creature began to vanish, the club losing corporeality as its phantasmal remains whisked harmlessly through Sera’s body.
“Thanks for giving that back to me,” Derek remarked to the disappearing creature. A trace of blood was visible at the side of his mouth.
Sera shivered.
“Contestants, you have cleared the first round.”
Clapping from the audience. I felt only horror.
“Please move to the other side of the stage.”
Derek moved to retrieve his sword from where it had fallen after impaling the ogre, then seized Sera by the hand. “Come on. Only one round down. You’re not done yet, are you?”
Sera shook her head. “No…of course not.” She gave a false smile, the kind I’d offered a thousand times.
I felt the urge to intervene, but I didn’t know how.
Could I break through the barrier outside the ring from the outside and get on the stage to help them?
A single glance at the warding runes showed how implausible that would be. I recognized dozens of individual shielding glyphs, each several times stronger than my sigil.
By the time I’d done that, the pair was on the other side of the stage, and four new barriers rose to mark the stage into sections.
Derek was clutching his chest where the ogre had punched him.
“Thirty seconds until the next round begins.”
Sera gave Derek a look up and down. “How badly are you hurt?”
Derek chuckled, and I thought I heard a wheeze in the laugh. “Oh, this is nothing. I’ve had far worse.”
His several seconds of coughing made his words rather unconvincing.
Sera folded her arms. “Right. I’m sure you die in here on a regular basis. Can you heal yourself?’
He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Well, if you want to ruin the surprise…”
His right hand shot forward, extending his blade toward the wall in front of him. “Tavare, awaken.”
Golden light spread across his mirror-bright blade. I thought I heard the sound of a chime emitting from the steel, like a bell ringing out the song.
He released his grip on the blade — and it floated still in the air. Golden light flowed out from the hilt, forming a mist that began to harden into a solid shape.
My eyes widened as I took in the sight of the creature that it formed.
It looked perfectly human, but too perfect to be human itself. Its skin was the same golden color as the aura that it had emerged from. Aside from its face, however, its body was enshrouded in scale-like armor: armor that I realized seemed to grow directly out of its skin. It was only distinct from its flesh in its obvious thickness and having a stronger metallic sheen.
“Radiance has awakened to serve.”
The creature took to a knee, laying the sword across it.
Derek sighed, his now-free hand across his forehead. “Thank you, Tavare. You—”
The first wall fell, revealing a swarm of bee-like insects the size of dogs.
Sera took a step back, raising her hands.
Derek pointed at the bees as they shot forward. “Handle those, then come heal me.”
“Radiance obeys.”
Tavare glanced at the flying insects. Without standing, it lashed out with its sword hand, making several cuts too rapidly for me to follow. Scintillating flashes accompanied each motion.
The insects fell to pieces, vanishing as they struck the floor.
I blinked. I’d seen no attacks emitted from the blade. Presumably, its attack was similar to the one Derek had used to create the crescents of flame, but I’d seen nothing analogous appear.
This creature was either using attacks that were invisible to me, or that were simply too fast for me to perceive. Possibly both.
“Useless creatures.”
Tavare stood, shaking its head. It stepped close to Derek, putting a hand upon his chest. “You have sustained structural damage. Expect pain.”
Derek nodded and balled his right hand into a fist. “Go ahead.”
Golden light flowed from the creature’s hand across his torso. He shivered, clenching and unclenching his hand. As the light faded, he lowered his head, taking a deep breath.
The next wall disappeared. A single monstrous spider appeared, advancing on the group.
Tavare turned, hurling her golden blade straight into the center of its head.
The spider died instantly.
Tavare made a compelling gesture with its hand, and the sword floated back into its grip. Seemingly unbothered, it returned to healing Derek.
Sera took a step back, moving closer to the edge of the stage.
I didn’t fault her for the caution. I had basically zero idea what they were dealing with.
I’d been reading up about enchanting for quite a while, including about intelligent weapons, since my own sword seemed to be at least empathic.
I had never heard about a sword that could manifest a person.
Was Tavare some sort of summoned monster? I’d never heard of a monster that could take the form of a weapon, but I supposed it was possible. Considering Sera’s expression, though, I didn’t think she knew what it was either — and she was a Summoner herself.
The next wall disappeared, revealing a half-dozen winged spiders.
Winged spiders.
Seeing those, I briefly had second thoughts about ever visiting the tower again.
Derek seemed less concerned, stretching out his arms and passing his remaining sword into his right hand. “I’ll take care of this set, Tavare. Can you offer some mana to my friend Sera?”
Tavare turned its gaze to Sera. “Radiance has little to spare, but it will serve.”
Sera took another step back, nearly exiting the bounds of the stage.
Tavare was in front of her in an instant. “Extend your hand, friend-called-Sera.”
Sera hesitantly extended her right hand, and Tavare clasped its left hand around it.
Derek jumped forward, hacking apart one of the spiders with a flaming cut, and then surged into the midst of the others. Since he seemed to be having no difficulty, I focused on what was going on with Sera.
Tavare leaned in closer, staring into Sera’s eyes. “A binder of beasts. I am honored.”
It can recognize her attunement? Interesting, it must have some kind of detection magic.
Wait, did he tell Tavare to give Sera mana? Isn’t that supposed to be hideously dangerous?
I frowned. I was certain I’d heard that transferring mana to other people was a problem, because our bodies rejected foreign mana.
Maybe that only applied to humans giving mana to other humans? If monsters could safely transfer mana to humans, there had to be a way to use that knowledge… but I’d think about that later.
For the moment, Sera had pulled away from the strange sword-creature, and she had folded her hands in front of her. “Thank you. I am honored by your aid.”
“You are welcome, friend-called-Sera. I must rest now.”
And with that, Tavare vanished, and the sword unceremoniously clattered to the floor.
Sera frowned, knelt down, and gingerly picked up the weapon.
The final barrier fell.
I had been too busy watching Sera’s exchange with Tavare to see the threat that awaited her.
A winged humanoid with perfectly-sculpted muscles of stone. A karvensi.
I shivered. I hadn’t seen one since they’d appeared amongst the gargoyles, driving the students into shelters. But I knew very well how powerful they were. This was no mere insect from the lower floors of the tower.
Sera stood tall, pointing the gauntlet at the creature, and fired a burst of mana.
It glanced harmlessly across the creature’s skin.
The karvensi grinned.
Magic resistant and as intelligent as a human, I remembered.
Derek lashed out in the air with his crimson blade, sending a flaming shockwave in the monster’s direction.
It raised a hand, and a wall of ice — near identical to the one Sera had used — rose and stopped the blast.
Oh, and the strongest ones can cast spells.
I grimaced and wished that incredibly dangerous sword-creature was still around.
The karvensi flapped its wings, taking off into the air and settling atop the wall of ice. “Oh, hello, little ones. This is one of your little sports, yes? How am I doing?”
It raised a clawed finger and scratched at its chin. “The objective is to kill you, correct?”
Derek took a few steps back, closer to Sera. “I suppose from your perspective—”
“Excellent! I haven’t had permission to do that in years. So, if you’d be kind enough to burn…” It stretched its hands out in a t-shape. “I’d be much obliged.”
A red glow manifested across the entire stage.
Derek jumped, impossibly high, swinging his sword in a horizontal sweep — but the karvensi simply took off, floating out of reach.
Sera pointed downward as she jumped. “Freeze!”
An icy platform manifested below her just as jets of flame flashed upward from the stage.
A barrier flashed around Derek, but it was a weak one. It cracked almost instantly on impact. And when the flames died down, they left pools of molten lava across the stage floor.
Sera reached out before Derek could complete his fall. A whip of ice lashed out from her hand, wrapping around his torso, and she pulled — jerking him onto the platform where she stood. He smashed into her hard, knocking her down and nearly off the ice, but she stopped her slide inches from the magma edge.
“Thanks.” Derek knelt and pulled Sera away from the burning floor.
A blast of mana slammed into his back an instant later, knocking him flat. His face smashed into the ice.
“Don’t forget about me, children!” The karvensi flapped above, clapping his hands together. “Ice, fire…what’s next? Remind me? Ah, correct! Lightning!”
A dark cloud spread across the top of the stage. I stared incredulously.
Sera grimaced, waving a hand upward. “Shell!”
A glacial dome formed above Derek and Sera mere instants before the first flash of electricity arced downward from the cloud. Chunks of frost burst free at the impact, but the dome held.
The dome was opaque. For a moment, I could see nothing of my sister’s fate. Bolt after bolt rained from the cloud, tearing away layers of their protection.
When a single bolt finally broke through, a hurled sword emerged to answer it.
The karvensi floated to the side, dodging the hurled weapon without difficulty. “Really? Throwing swords? You do know that’s not what they’re for, right?”
The stone creature chuckled, forming a sphere of electricity in its hands.
It was still looking down at the threats it had seen before.
It had no way of seeing the crimson skinned humanoid descending through the air, clutching the weapon that had just been thrown.
Lightning sparked in the karvensi’s hands — and died as the burning blade slammed into its back.
The weapon, however, left only the slightest mark.
The karvensi spun in mid-air, grabbing its new attacker and hurling the crimson figure into the inferno below.
Meanwhile, the remains of the protective dome vanished. Sera pointed a finger at the creature above. “Bind.”
The swirling pattern of runes engulfed the karvensi, but it just laughed, turning its head toward her. “Really? You’re doing that now?”
Sera grinned. “All part of the long-term plan. You’re cute, but you keep getting distracted.”
Its eyes narrowed, apparently noticing at the same time as I did that Derek was no longer anywhere in sight.
It, most likely, also noticed the hole in the bottom of the stage around the same time as I did.
It spun around just as Derek burst upward from another newly-formed hole in the stage, shooting upward high enough to grab the karvensi in a bear hug.
From my perspective, that seemed terribly unwise.
I, however, also missed the crimson figure that was standing — completely unharmed — in the flames.
“Master has commanded for you to burn.”
The flames that had spread across the stage began to flicker, as if blowing in the wind, and then surged inward, gathering around the crimson figure.
“Delsys will obey.”
The crimson figure began to rise from the stage, the residual flames surrounding him like a whirlwind.
The karvensi turned toward the sound, grabbing Derek and hurling him straight at Delsys.
Delsys waved a hand, and a gust of wind blew Derek off that trajectory. Another rising jet carried the swordsman safely to the ground.
The karvensi turned toward Delsys and growled. “A weapon-bound? How fascinating. Insufficient, but really quite fascinating. Let’s see… what was the girl doing earlier? Ah, yes. Permafrost Cascade.”
Hundreds of blades of ice appeared around the karvensi, vastly outstripping the results of when Sera had cast the same spell. They shot forward, meeting the incendiary sirocco around the Delsys.
Some of blades made it through the fire storm.
A few of them were sufficient to pierce its chest.
Delsys sank down to the stage, fire leaking from its wounds.
As more blades arced downward to impact the wounded creature, Sera waved both hands toward the karvensi.
“Reverse!”
The frozen shards stood still in the air.
The karvensi turned its gaze toward her. “You lack the strength to turn back my spell, little girl.”
She shook, pushing her hands outward as she struggled for control over the spell. I’d seen Shapers do that sort of thing before, but I wasn’t aware Summoners were capable of it.
The shards shivered, inching closer to Delsys, who had fallen to a knee.
Finally, she smirked and spoke. “I don’t have to.”
Derek flew upward from the back of the stage — the golden sword back in his hand, its edges glowing bright — and he slashed upward, cutting through the base of one of the karvensi’s wings.
“Aaaaah!” The creature screamed in shock as it fell from the sky, landing hard against the surface of the stage.
Derek landed atop it. “An excellent fight. You should be proud.”
Then he shoved his gleaming sword into its neck.
I winced as the karvensi vanished.
The crowd erupted in uproarious applause.
My feelings were…mixed. Had they just killed an intelligent creature for a mere show?
I knew summoned creatures worked more like simulacra. They were copies of a person, not real people. But I still felt a sinking in my gut at the thought.
For the moment, though, most of what I felt was relief. Sera was safe.
“Well done, contestants! You have cleared the second round.”
More applause.
“As you know, normally this would be our final round for the competition. Tonight, however, we are honored by the presence of a special guest!”
Oh, no.
“Our house Summoners are quite exhausted, but our guest is among the most talented in her field. Our audience should know her well — and our contestants should know her even better. Introducing Derek Hartigan’s former partner, the incredible Elora Theas!”
A woman in a pristine red and gold suit, complimented by a tall hat and a dueling cane, appeared in the largest box directly above the stage. She was definitely the same woman I’d seen in the memory crystal working with my mother. “Found a replacement for me so quickly, Derek? She’s quite lovely, but a little young, even for you."
Oh, resh no.
This cannot possibly go anywhere good.
Derek glanced upward at the box. “Elora! My love, my life, my light. You must be so lonely up in that box all by yourself, without any of your many usual acquaintances to keep you company for the evening. Why don’t you come down here and join us?” He snarled. “I’d be glad to give you a proper greeting.”
“Distracted as you are by my beauty, you seem to have forgotten you are in the midst of a contest. But worry not! I will be here to console you while you recover from my contribution.”
Delsys, his wounds no longer streaming fire, finally collapsed on the stage and vanished a moment later. Derek did not spare him a glance, but Sera rushed and retrieved the sword that fell to the stage in Delsys’ absence.
“Contestants, prepare yourselves for your final battle!”
A faster song emerged from the musician’s pit beside the arena, and the arena’s barrier walls flashed.
Derek glanced at Sera. “You may want to step out of the ring, Sera. This is not going to be pretty.”
Sera glanced upward, then back down to Derek. “I’m not pleased with this little lover’s quarrel you’ve dragged me into, but I’m not one to back down from a fight.”
The swordsman nodded silently. There was nothing more to say.
Elora steepled her fingers. “Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to bear witness to something rare. A summoning of something beyond the mere pittances often strewn across this arena.”
She closed her eyes.
“You who are born of the serpent,
Wrought with scales of adamant and bearing claws of fire,
I call upon our pact.
Visage of venom, hear my voice!
Wyvern, I summon you!”
A gasp escaped the collective voice of the crowd.
They knew, as I did, what she had invoked.
The wyvern. One of the guardians of the tower.
And as she spoke her final word, it appeared.
Twenty feet of muscle, sinew, and scales. It floated above the stage on serpentine wings, opening its draconic jaws into the air.
It screamed, and the room quaked at its voice.
“Very well.” Derek glanced upward, flourishing his golden blade. “Shall we begin?”
In reply, the creature dove straight down.
Derek jumped, landing a glancing strike against its neck. The sword failed to cut through the creature’s scales. It responded with a strike from its viciously barbed tail.
The swordsman battered the tail aside, but one of the spines along the edge ripped across his chest, drawing blood. He hissed as he fell, clutching at the wound.
“Poison,” he spat, clenching his fists as he landed. “I hate poison.”
Sera was not standing idle. She had been finishing an incantation as Derek fought in the air.
“Winds, carry upon you blades of ice!”
A handful of icy daggers appeared behind her, firing forward. It resembled a weaker version of her Permafrost Cascade.
If she was using it, that meant she was probably too low on mana for her more powerful spell. Not a good sign for fighting something as powerful as the wyvern.
The icy knives struck the wyvern’s left wing, burrowing holes into the sinews between bones. The monster roared, but remained afloat. The damage wasn’t significant enough to render it incapable of flight.
Sera’s right hand was shaking heavily. Definitely not a good sign.
Derek swung his blade in the air, sending a golden crescent at the creature’s wounded wing. It twisted sideways, avoiding the attack, but Derek repeated the gesture and struck it in the opposite side.
The wyvern hissed and dove.
Derek ran.
The wyvern hit the stage, breaking boards where it landed, smashing a path as it surged toward Derek with open jaws.
Sera raised the gauntlet and sent a blast into its side.
The visual difference between a burst of gray mana and a blast of transference mana wasn’t very obvious.
The effect, however, was quite distinct.
The wyvern must have weighed twenty times more than a man, but the burst of mana was still sufficient to knock it off course. Its jaws closed around the empty air just to Derek’s side.
And Derek, never to miss such a perfect window of opportunity, thrust his sword into its neck.
“Hah!” He slammed the palm of his other hand into the pommel of his sword, driving it deeper into the creature’s throat. It thrashed wildly as his hand began to glow, sending a surge of golden mana across the blade and blasting a deep hole into the wyvern’s neck.
Derek grinned, pulling away. “You see that, Elora?”
The wyvern’s tail smashed into him a moment later, leaving a bloody smear across the stage.
The motion carried him all the way out of the ring.
And then, it rose, roaring.
Sera was alone.
The wyvern turned, coughing blood onto the ruined stage. Standing on its two legs, it raised its tail like a scorpion, poised to strike.
“Run, Sera!” I shouted.
I knew there was no chance she could hear me from my position in the stands.
The tail shot downward like the thrust of a spear, and Sera spoke.
“Ogre, I summon you.”
The ogre’s hands caught the wyvern’s tail.
And suddenly, I understood.
Those “Binding” spells she’d been using weren’t to slow the monsters down.
She’d been marking the monsters for her later use.
The wyvern hissed, pulling its tail free from the ogre’s grasp. As strong as the ogre was, it was nowhere near as large or powerful as the wyvern.
That didn’t stop it from charging the wyvern with fists flailing, though.
Sera fell to a knee, shaking. She looked pale. Too pale.
The ogre smashed a fist into the wyvern’s jaw. The wyvern recoiled at the blow, but quickly retorted, snapping its fangs around the ogre’s arm.
Sera dropped the crimson sword, wiping her forehead. “One more,” she mumbled. “Just one more.”
The ogre howled in agony, slamming its free arm into the wyvern’s face, but it was doing minimal damage. The wyvern snapped down again, tearing the ogre’s injured arm off entirely.
The ogre fell to its knees.
“Karvensi…” Sera mumbled, raising both hands. “I summon you.”
The winged man appeared at her side as she slumped against the floor.
“Really? You’re summoning me now?” He sighed, turning toward the wyvern. “And I suppose you want me to handle this for you?”
Sera twitched her head in what could barely pass for a nod.
“Well, I suppose it’s something to do.”
The wyvern’s tail descended, spearing the ogre through the chest. The ogre twitched once, then vanished into nothing.
The karvensi shook its head, gathering flames in its hands. “I was hoping the brute would have lasted a moment longer, but I suppose this will have to do.”
The wyvern turned its head toward Sera.
The karvensi’s hand shot out. “Tell me, wyvern. What’s your opinion on fire?”
The stage, with the exception of a small patch around Sera, turned red.
And the wyvern, as powerful as it was, was not intelligent enough to see the danger.
Flames rippled upward from the stage, and the wyvern’s bulky form was bombarded with dozens of blasts. It howled into the air, its wings flapping to carry it above the danger.
The karvensi shook its head, lifting the burning sword that Sera had discarded. “Now, how does this thing work? Do I just throw it like so?”
He hurled the sword at the wyvern’s already injured wing, and it embedded deeply. Fire began to spread across the surface where it impacted.
The karvensi frowned. “Hrm. No flame person this time.” He glanced down at Sera’s shivering form. “Did I do something wrong? I must have done something wrong.”
“Finish…it…,” Sera mumbled.
“Right, right. You know, you really look quite unwell. You probably should see a healer or something. You humans are so fond of those.”
The karvensi took to the air, flying high above the writhing wyvern. “You really are quite a disappointment, wyvern. I expected better from one of the serpent’s children. But alas, few can match my own splendor.”
It gestured to the air above it. “This should put an end to your struggles, I think.”
A dark cloud gathered at the top of the stage, electricity crackling in its midst.
The karvensi turned away from the wyvern, bowing in the air to the crowd. “Enjoy the light show, humans.”
Lightning struck from a dozen angles at once.
The wyvern hissed, its flesh sizzling where each impact had struck. It rolled over, raising its wings toward the lightning in a blocking gesture.
“Really? You need more?” The karvensi sighed. “Fine. You’re resilient, at least, I’ll give you that. More lightning it is.”
More flashes from the cloud. Dozens upon dozens of them.
Finally, the wyvern lay still, and began to fade.
Sera reached up with a shaking hand, muttering a single word. “Bind.”
Symbols whirled around the creature’s fading form, and I laughed so hard it nearly brought tears to my eyes.
She was half-dead down there, and she was still thinking about adding another monster to her summoning collection.
Maybe we really were family after all.
As the wyvern faded, the audience stood in uproarious applause.
I rushed out of my booth, past a guard, and tried desperately to find the stairs.
I needed to make sure that Sera was safe.
* * *
It took a considerable amount of arguing, but I eventually managed to get one of the guards to let me into the “recovery room”, where both Sera and Derek were waiting.
Sera was lying on a sofa, shivering uncontrollably. A man I didn’t recognize sat in a chair next to her.
Derek was sitting in another chair, his feet up on a footrest.
“Ah, Corin. Thanks for coming down to see us. Wasn’t that an incredible show?”
I punched him in the face.
Derek fell backward at the impact, clutching his face. “What the—”
“You brought a first year student into this… pit with only minutes of preparation. Yes, she agreed to it, but she couldn’t have possibly known the degree of danger that she was in.” I raised a hand and pointed. “Look at her, Derek. Look at the condition she’s in.”
Derek narrowed his eyes, still clutching his nose. It was bleeding. Good. “That’s on you, too. You’re the one I asked first.”
“Yeah, and I probably deserve more than what I just gave you. She can punch me as much as she feels like. For the moment, though, I’m going to see if I can get her warm. And you can help, rather than sitting on your ass.”
Derek’s clenched his fists, pulling one back like he was going to strike me…but he slowly growled and unclenched them, putting his hands back down.
“You’re right.” He lowered his head. “There was no way either of you were ready for that. I didn’t think that Elora… but never mind. That’s not important. Let’s see to your sister.”
I nodded curtly.
The man next to her turned out to be a Mender, but he’d quickly identified that her problem was from mana loss, and there was little he could do beyond making sure her condition didn’t deteriorate further.
I glanced at Derek. “Your weapons. Can you summon that golden entity, the one that transferred mana to her earlier?”
He shook his head. “I have to store mana in the weapons for weeks to get enough to summon them in a physical form. She’ll be long recovered before I can call on Tavare again.”
I took off my coat, draping it over Sera. She barely responded.
I glanced at the Mender. “Do you carry mana potions here?”
He shook his head. “No, they expire quickly. I do know an alchemist nearby, but those potions are expensive.”
My head turned to Derek. “The winnings. They must be substantial.”
Derek nodded. “She’ll be quite wealthy when she recovers, at least by first year standards.”
“We’re going to buy her mana potions. Enough for a quick and comfortable recovery. With your share of the money.”
He glowered at me for a moment, but let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. I will do this as recompense. But after this, no more punching?”
I nodded. “Not from me. I can’t make any promises about what she’s going to do when she gets up.”
“Acceptable.”
The medic gave us directions. Derek and I both boggled at the cost of mana potions — twenty silver for a single draught — but the winnings were more than sufficient to cover the three potions I decided she’d probably need.
Sera was completely unconscious by the time we returned. Her shivering had stopped, but the Mender assured me that she was alive. With the Mender’s help, we gingerly fed her a sip of the first potion and waited.
I sat her head on my lap, like mother had done for me when we were children. And, after hours passed with no sign of change, I fell asleep.
* * *
“Corin.”
“Corin, wake up.”
My eyes blinked their way open. Derek was sitting next to me.
I almost punched him again. My lack of punching ended up being mostly due to my arm being asleep. Sera was on top of it, still unconscious.
I didn’t remember the non-punching agreement until at least several moments later. “Derek.”
He nodded. “Good, you’re awake. I need to go. I’ve been here all night, and my family will be concerned.”
I glanced down at Sera. “Has she woken up at all?”
Derek shook his head. “No, no sign of it yet. The medic left a few hours ago. He’s convinced she’s on the mend. We fed her another sip of the first draught, but it’s hard to get anything into her while she’s asleep. You can give her the full potion when she wakes up, but she’ll need water with it.”
“No.”
He blinked. “No?… No what?”
“You don’t get to leave without apologizing to her.”
Derek sighed. “Look, I did stay all night, and I am quite sorry for what happened. It was irresponsible of me to drag you two into this with so little warning, but I needed a partner, and—”
“Did you know Elora was going to be summoning that beast?”
“No.” His tone was firm. “All I knew was that she refused to join me in the arena tonight. I had no idea she was planning this…charade.”
I tilted my head down. “And did you learn she wasn’t joining you in the arena before or after you asked me to come to your show?”
Derek winced. “Before. But I thought I could find another friend, a veteran, who could take her place! I just ran out of time.”
“And you were desperate enough to put children in danger.”
He sighed. “I was confident I could handle it myself. Summoned monsters are usually considerably weaker than real ones. I normally don’t even have to use my bound weapons. With them, I thought this would be trivial, even without Elora’s help. Obviously, I was mistaken.”
I could understand his perspective, but after seeing the degree of danger Sera had been in, I wasn’t going to let him off lightly. “You should tell her that.”
“I will! I can come back. But I have people who are going to be worried about me. I’d think you of all people should understand that.”
It was a low blow, but he wasn’t wrong.
I may have sounded a bit uncharacteristically snarly with my response. “Fine. You can tell your family that you’re safe. But you’re coming back. And if we’re gone by the time you get back here, you’re going to come to the campus and apologize to her directly.” My eyes narrowed. “And you will not ask her to join you again.”
“I understand. That is…quite reasonable, given what happened.”
I sighed, putting a hand on Sera’s forehead. She mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over, but didn’t wake. “Go on. I’ll see you soon enough.”
“I’ll have the owners bring you her share of the winnings.”
I nodded. I wasn’t going to thank him for that.
I turned my head away, and Derek left us in silence.
Chapter XV — Recovery
By the next morning, Sera was almost ready to move. Her legs wobbled as she tried to stand, though, and I had to catch her from falling backward.
“I want to go home.” Sera frowned, burying her face in her hands.
I stood up, awkwardly putting a hand on her head. “I’ll make it happen, then. Don’t try to get up without me.”
She grumbled a little bit, but finally slumped back down on the couch.
It took me about a half hour to find someone in management and convince them to send a couple of the staff to help me carry Sera home. We were fortunate that injuries and mana exhaustion were common enough events that they always had overnight staff.
While we were heading down to pick up Sera, one of the staff members — a bouncer, from the look of him, remarked, “At least she didn’t get torn up like the last team.”
“What happened to them?”
“Ogre nearly tore one of the guy’s arms off, then smashed his partner in the face. Had to rush them both to the hospital.”
That revelation did wonders for my mood.
I decided that next time, I’d put my gauntlet back on before punching Derek.
All in all, three of us took turns carrying Sera until we managed to get her back to her dorm. And by “taking turns”, I mean the two of them took turns, and I “supervised”. I wasn’t strong enough to carry Sera more than a block at best.
The medic deemed her “stable” before we left, but advised me to keep a close eye on her, and to take her to the hospital if she started coughing blood.
A lovely image, that.
All in all, we were both in a pretty terrible mood by the time we set Sera down in her own bed. She looked pale, like she’d suffered serious blood loss, but I hadn’t seen any bleeding.
I thanked the two staff members that helped carry her — it wasn’t their fault she’d gotten hurt — and grabbed her some food from the cafeteria. By the time I got back, she’d fallen back to sleep.
* * *
A few hours later, Sera woke in a ravenous state. I handed her the food I’d retrieved. It wasn’t fresh, but I still deemed it edible. She devoured it.
“How are you feeling?” I tried to put a smile on my face, but it was one of those obviously fake ones that I knew she’d see right through.
“Terrible.” She took another sip of the mana potion that I’d put next to her food. “This tastes like burning.”
At least she was feeling strong enough to complain. “You’re going to be drinking that lovely fire for a while. Your arm is in the worst shape, but it looks like you were drawing from other mana sources, too.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Which ones? It’s important that I know in case I need to get you to a hospital.”
Sera took another sip of the potion, grimacing, and then whispered her reply. “…all of them?”
“What was that? I’m not sure I heard you.”
“I said all of them, Corin. And, before you get into a lecture—”
I folded my arms. “You seriously risked drawing mana from your heart and your brain, Sera? That’s dangerous enough for people who have attunements in their locations. You could have killed yourself!”
She slammed the potion bottle down hard. “I am not in a mood for this argument, Corin. When your arms are hurting too much to move them, and your legs are drained to the point where you can’t stand, you’ll do what you need to do.”
My jaw tightened. I wanted to argue, but this wasn’t the time. “You’re hurt, so I’m not going to fight with you. But I’m not comfortable with you pushing yourself like that.”
“You don’t have to be. That’s the great part about this being my body, Corin. I can do whatever I want with it.” She jabbed a piece of egg with her fork. “And I do appreciate your concern, I really do, but I’m not a child. And I’m not your retainer. You can’t give me orders.”
I leaned back in my chair. “That’s fine. I know I can’t order you around. But you’re…my sister, so I was worried about you.”
Sera’s eyes narrowed. “Sister, eh?” She took a bite of the egg, setting her fork down. “I think this might be the first time you’ve called me that without sounding sarcastic.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “You’re probably right. I’m sorry. I’ll try to be twice as sarcastic next time to make up for the lapse.”
* * *
It took days before Sera was walking unassisted again, which meant I got to spend a lot of “quality” time with her.
Normally, the mana in her legs would have recovered in hours, but she’d drained herself so significantly that her body was having to prioritize what it restored first.
The first mana potion helped speed the process along a bit, getting her to the point where she could stand, but she refused to drink the other two, claiming that they made her feel nauseated.
I looked into that a little — it was apparently a pretty common side effect. I decided to dig into how mana potions worked a little later. They wouldn’t offer permanent improvements like the enhancement elixirs I had tried to research before, but I knew it’d still be useful to figure out how to manufacture them.
We were heading to the dining hall when it occurred to me to ask a critical question. “Did they ever end up paying you?”
She shook her head. “I got a letter explaining that I’d get my cut in about three weeks. It’s pretty significant, though.”
“How significant is pretty significant?”
“Two hundred silver sigils.”
I let out an appreciative whistle. “I’ve never had money like that.”
She chuckled. “No kidding. I don’t think I’ve ever had a quarter of that. I’m still trying to figure out what to do with it.”
“Might I suggest investing in one of your favorite Enchanters?”
Sera let out a snort. “I’ll think about it. It does mean I can afford to have you make me a gauntlet, at least.”
“I could make you something much better than that gauntlet with two hundred silver. But it’d be smarter for me to practice on some smaller things first, so I was sort of serious about the investment.”
“I’ll think about it. For now, food.”
It was her first day back at the dining hall — I’d been bringing food back to her room while she’d been unable to make the journey — so she set into the hall with reckless abandon.
By the time we sat down, she was carrying two full trays, and I was carrying another tray for her, in addition to my own.
There was zero chance she’d be eating all this, but fortunately the dining hall did let us pack up any left overs. Which, by the look of it, would be virtually everything.
We hadn’t talked much about the fighting. She’d been pretty miserable during the recovery, so I tried to keep us focused on other topics. Now that she was back on her feet, though, I had some questions.
“That binding thing you were doing. That’s how Summoners get their new spells?”
She looked contemplative, even as she eviscerated a potato. “Sort of. The binding spell teaches my attunement how to make an inferior copy of whatever I hit with it. It’s not like having a real contract with a monster. A real contract is much more versatile.”
“So, if you can make a copy of something that easily, why don’t you have dozens of things you can summon? Wouldn’t your teachers just summon things in class for the whole class to copy?”
She shook her head. “Every binding we make takes up a little bit of our mana, for as long as we maintain the bond. If I had a whole bunch of them, I couldn’t summon anything at all, so it’s only worth it to keep a few.”
Sera paused, tearing off a piece of bread with her teeth. “We did learn a couple of basic summoning spells in class, but most of the teachers consider bindings worthless, since the monsters are so much weaker than the real thing.”
She took a breath. “Most people focus on making real contracts, since they have a similar cost in mana to bindings, but contracts give you more options. For example, if you have a contract, you can draw on the creature you’ve contracted for power without summoning them. That’s how I use my ice spells.”
I prodded at my own food, but I wasn’t nearly as hungry. “I remember you — or Teft, maybe? — saying something about summoning modified versions of things you’ve contracted?”
“Yeah. Like, if I had a real contract with an ogre, and I had some fire mana, I could summon a fire ogre.” She grinned. “A fire ogre. Now I want one.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I get the idea. And you’re still not going to tell me what your contract is with, right?”
“Nah.”
I picked up a piece of one of her potatoes with my fork. “Well, if you’re going to be that way…”
“Hey! That’s my third favorite potato! You give it back!”
I popped it into my mouth.
Sera put a hand over her heart, giving me a lamenting expression. “Alas. It was so young.”
I chewed. “And salty.”
Sera tightened her lips. “I do want to tell you what my summoned monster is. But I can’t.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. “What do you mean?”
She sighed. “It’s part of the contract. The creature is… eccentric. I’m not allowed to tell anyone I have a contract with it until it agrees that I’m ready.”
I blinked. “That seems like a pretty bad deal.”
Sera shook her head. “No, it’s a great deal. You’ll see why eventually. But in the meantime, I can’t tell you what it is.”
“Fine, fine. But it gives you ice magic in the meantime?”
She nodded. “Yeah. And some degree of control over ice magic, which is pretty useful.”
I’d noticed that when she managed to stop the karvensi’s spell in the arena, but I hadn’t realized the ability was from her contracted monster. Interesting. “So, different contracts offer different benefits, in addition to summoning. Could you contract an ogre to make yourself physically stronger?”
She made a ‘hmm’ noise. “Maybe? I’m not actually sure about that. I’ve only looked into summoned monsters that give me enhanced magical abilities, but it sounds possible, yeah.”
“Could that be how Derek was so strong?”
She lifted up a cup of juice and took a long sip. “Ahh, something that isn’t mana potion. Delicious.” After a brief moment of savoring the beverage, she continued. “Anyway, no, he’s not a Summoner.”
“But I saw him—”
“Not sure what exactly his attunement is, but it’s different. I think he stores monsters in items, then gets power from the objects. He wouldn’t tell me about it before the match, he just said he could take care of things. It was pretty frustrating.”
“Yeah, I’d be pretty frustrated if someone who I was fighting alongside didn’t tell me about all their abilities.” I gave her an exaggerated wink.
“Oh, shush, Corin. When I can summon it, you’ll be one of the first to see, okay?”
I nodded. “Acceptable.”
“If you want to see it any faster, you could make me a mana storage device…”
We spent much of the rest of the meal talking about enchanting options. All in all, it was a pleasant change of pace.
* * *
I lifted up the product of three weeks of agonizing labor — a single crystal of gray mana, still trapped within the practice shell.
I might have slightly overestimated myself when I’d planned to figure out how to make the more advanced version in a week.
Even so, I was proud of my results.
Over the following few days, I finished filling the remaining practice molds. It was considerably easier after my first success — but I still had a pretty significant problem.
I always stopped as soon as I started feeling a headache.
I knew from speaking to various Diviners that I was being overly cautious. After a cursory test of my mana levels after finishing one of the crystals, I knew I was nowhere near the point where making one was going to put me in danger.
But I remembered what had happened to Sera after the fight, and how long it had taken her to recover.
And, more importantly, I remembered what happened to my great grandfather. The story of his broken mind echoed in my thoughts every time I considered using any significant amount of mind mana. The more I tried to fight the thoughts out of my head, the more I reinforced them.
But I needed to make my attunement stronger. I was nowhere near Carnelian yet — and I was rapidly running out of time to get there. I knew I’d never make enough progress if I kept stopping at the slightest hint of discomfort.
And that was why, if I couldn’t scour the fear from my mind, I needed to beat it through other means.
I needed to outsmart it.
And with that goal in mind, I began my next project.
* * *
I handed the four completed crystals over to Vellum.
“Oh, you’re still enrolled here? I thought you might have dropped out from shame a couple weeks ago, since these took you so long.”
I grinned. “Sorry to disappoint you, professor. I do have other things to keep me busy.”
That was about seventy percent an excuse, but a fraction of truth was good enough to keep the smile on my face.
She just shook her head. “And I suppose you’ll be wanting the mana out of these?”
“Yeah, and I’d like to see the extraction process, if you don’t mind.”
“Very well.” She nodded, laying out the crystals in a line on the table. She opened a drawer, reached in to withdraw something…
…and hit the first crystal in the line with a hammer.
The quartz casing exploded, chips flying everywhere.
As I gawked, Vellum took a deep breath, and then smashed the next one.
And the next. And the next.
At least the mana crystals themselves remained intact.
“Ah, much better.” She set the hammer down on the table amidst the quartz powder and debris.
I stared blankly. “I…thought you said I wasn’t supposed to damage the casing?”
“Of course not, dear. I enjoy doing it myself far too much to let you do it. Let an old woman bask in one of her few remaining joys in life, hmm?”
I sighed, taking a seat in the chair across from her. She was obviously having a little fun at my expense, but that was tolerable as long as I got the results.
I reached across the table and began to retrieve my hard-earned crystals. “Of course, professor. I would never want to deprive you of such simple pleasures. You wouldn’t happen to have any more practice crystals that I could use?”
“Oh, no, that was the last batch. You can buy them at some of the supply stores on campus, though. They’re cheap or I never would have given you any.”
“Right.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling the grit of powdered quartz dust that had stuck on my fingers when I picked up the mana crystals. “I’ll keep working on those, but I do have another question in the meantime.”
“Oh? Need some advice on how to woo a young lady, perhaps?”
I blinked. Where did she get these absurd ideas?
“No, Professor. A rune-related question, and I think you’re the only one here who might know the answer.”
“With those younger ladies, flattery will get you everywhere — but with me, Corin, you’re better off just keeping me entertained. I do hope this is an interesting question?”
I nodded. “Is it possible to use runes to perform mathematical calculations?”
She steepled her fingers. “That is an interesting question. If you’re thinking about making a magical device to make it easier to perform math in class, however, I’m afraid that the designs required are quite complex — and most common methods are patented, so it’s not something you could easily make and sell.”
Huh. I hadn’t been thinking of something of that level of complexity, but it was good information to have. “Nothing quite like that. Basically, I’m going to have a divination rune that checks for a value, and then I need to run it through an equation and display the resulting number on a surface. I found the runes for the first step, and I think I know how to make the number display, but I couldn’t find anything on the middle part.”
Vellum leaned back in her chair. “That’s not terribly difficult. You want to run the number through the exact same equation every time?”
I scratched my chin. “Yeah. I think so? I’m pretty sure the underlying equation stays stable, but I admit I haven’t dug into it very deeply yet.”
For the first time in my recollection, Vellum looked stymied. I felt a pang of victory — I think I’d actually managed to confuse her.
“Whatever is this for?”
I tapped the attunement mark on my forehead. “You know people go to the Divinatory periodically to learn how much mana they can use safely from each part of their body?”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Important for students, certainly. Most advanced attuned learn to evaluate that by feel.”
“But that’s a flawed approach.” It was a bit of a provocative statement, but I was confident. “Even experts sometimes push themselves beyond their limits, sometimes without realizing it, and suffer permanently for it.”
Fortunately, she didn’t seem offended — just contemplative. “And you think you can solve this by…”
“Every time that I’ve gone to the Divinatory, they’ve cast a single spell to check each part of my body — then scribbled down some math and given me the result. I think they’re checking the total amount of mana flowing through each area, then running it through a simple formula to tell me how much is safe to use. I could make items that do that.”
“What’s the point? Making a permanent item like that would mean spending a significant amount of money on a service that’s inexpensive or free. It’s not worth saving a few minutes.”
I shook my head. “That’s not the point of the device — it’s just the first part. We have it measure the user’s mana at rest and store that number, and then make it visible on a surface. Then, we have it actively monitor the user’s mana, tracking how their current mana compares to the first number. We show a second number — the amount of remaining mana the wearer can still spend safely — next to the maximum value.”
Vellum lifted a hand to her chin, twisting her lips. “It could be done. You’d want to display it as a fraction — something like ten mana left out of twenty — to make it useful. But I don’t know if I like it. It could make the wearer rely on the device, rather than their own judgment.”
I shrugged at that. “If nothing else, it might help keep someone cognizant of the small mana uses that they aren’t aware of from day-to-day activities. I still have no idea how rapidly using my attunement drains my mana, for example. How long can I use it safely? I have no idea — none of my books talk about it.”
“That’s something they should have explained in your first weeks of class. You probably just weren’t paying attention.”
“Maybe, but I doubt I’m the only one. And when someone knows dozens of spells, and they’re in the middle of the tower, can you honestly say they’re tracking their mana usage accurately?”
She shook her head. “No, they’re probably not, but I’m not certain taking the time to check a device would be beneficial. You’d have to press it against whichever section of the body you want to measure, then look at wherever you’re displaying the numbers — not necessarily practical in a fight.”
“I was thinking something wearable, like a pocket watch on a chain. You could just grab it out of the pocket, press it to your hand or forehead or whatever, and then look at the number. I agree that might still be too dangerous in the middle of a fight, but maybe between two rooms? I don’t know about you, but I think I’d find that information valuable.”
“Perhaps. But you must understand that people develop a degree of pride about being able to keep track of their own mana. I’m not sure adults would value a device that makes them look incapable. I don’t know how you’d market it.”
Pride. I hadn’t thought about that.
But it actually made this even easier.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier. But, you’re absolutely right, Professor. Checking a pocket watch every room would make you look paranoid. That’s why we don’t put it in a pocket. If mana management makes people proud?”
I made a sweeping gesture with my hands. “Why not tell the whole world how powerful you are? We don’t tuck the device away. We make it a necklace, or a wrist watch. Something that shows openly and visibly, so you can show off how much mana you have. It could be a status symbol, like how some people like to show off their strongest attunement.”
Vellum wrinkled her nose. “That’s precisely the opposite of what some people would want. You know that traditionally nobles wear a glove to cover their attunements and hide their strength. Weren’t you wearing a glove yourself when we first met?”
I nodded. “And that’s precisely how we’ll make a profit on it. Pride. We can tell the younger generation that, rather than hide their power out of fear, they should flaunt it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And if you make it competitive…”
“Even older attuned might feel compelled to do the same, to prove that they’re stronger than these upstart children.”
Professor Vellum nodded contemplatively. “It’s a clever idea. Most clever ideas never go anywhere, but I can see some potential here. So, before you sell any, you’re going to patent it.”
I blinked. “What?”
“This is, perhaps, the most important lesson that you’re going to learn from me. Anything of sufficient value — and I do mean anything — provokes greed. If you think you could sell more than a handful of these, you need to protect yourself. Patenting a design can be intimidating, and the paperwork is awful, but you need to do it.”
I frowned. “And if there’s already a patent out there?”
“Then you have the dubious honor of coming up with a brilliant idea that someone else already thought of. You’ll find that’s far more common than developing anything truly unique.”
“But if it is unique, and I do get a patent?”
“Then we, young Corin Cadence, are going to make a great deal of money.”
* * *
I spent the next two weeks working on my first model of the device.
And my second, when the first one failed. I’d misunderstood how to use one of the runes, which made the calculation always evaluate to zero. Oops.
Professor Vellum was surprisingly enthusiastic about helping. I’d never seen her take any serious interest in one of my projects, but she had me check in every few days with a status update, and even made me some of the crystals that I needed.
I didn’t have anywhere near enough mental mana to make the analysis runes myself — and I couldn’t afford them — but she handled that personally.
And after all that effort?
It worked.
I had a silvery disc the size of my palm attached to a chain with a fraction displayed on it: 31/31.
The last thing it had measured was my own mental mana. It had gone up a bit in the last few weeks as a result of my practice.
That puts me at Rank A in Quartz. Finally. I’m still a long way from Carnelian, but I’m making some real progress.
I wasn’t going to celebrate prematurely. I went to the Divinatory and had them run the standard tests to confirm my results.
They told me my safe mana usage would be 32.
Close enough. Probably a rounding error.
I hadn’t quite figured out how to get the device to round yet, so fractions of a mana point were simply ignored.
After confirming that it worked for my mental mana, I checked the rest of my body…
…and those were all wrong.
That didn’t keep me stuck for very long. After asking a few questions, I realized my problem. I was always running the same formula, which I’d found in a book about evaluating safe mana usage for the mind specifically.
Every body part had a different “safe” tolerance. That was a set value plus a percentage of your maximum amount. Apparently, as your mana pool got bigger, your body used more and more on routine bodily functions. It made a sort of sense.
So, if I wanted this to work properly, I needed it to run a different formula depending on what body part I was checking.
That was considerably more difficult. I needed to add an extra stage where it detected the type of mana, then branched out to running different equations based on the type. The device’s complexity, and thus its cost, went up considerably.
The beloved profit margins that I’d been harboring in my imagination shrank.
Still, after another few days, I managed to get it working with every part of my body. That made me beam with pride, even if I couldn’t expect as much profit.
At the end of the week, I’d finished a second functional device, which I gave to Vellum.
When she used it for a cursory test, I got a glimpse at one of the measurements she ran on her hand: 2565/2565.
And, for the first time, I understood just how far I had to grow.
She grinned when she saw me gawking, set the device down, and said, “Well, dear, now that the easy part is over. It’s time for the paperwork.”
She was right, of course. Headaches from using my attunement? I could deal with them. Existential terror at the possibility of destroying my own mind? Pretty much routine at this point.
Doing paperwork for the government?
Now that was brutal.
* * *
All told, I spent more than four weeks on what I was calling my “mana watch” project. I started wearing it around the campus. Fortunately, basic jewelry wasn’t explicitly disallowed in our uniform guidelines. I got a lot of odd stares and a handful of questions.
Sera was one of the first to comment, of course. “I know you’ve never been one for fashion, Corin, but that thing is such an affront to the concept that I’m a little worried for you. I could see fashion manifesting itself in anger just to extract vengeance for the crime you’ve perpetrated.”
I chuckled. “You’re just jealous that you don’t have a masterpiece of modern art like this. But, for the low price of — how much did you say you made in that arena, like two hundred silver? — you could have one that’s almost as amazing as mine.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve always liked to donate to the needy, but I think you’re beyond my help.”
“Don’t worry, Sera. Your affection is all I’ve ever needed.”
I knew it’d be a while before the patent paperwork went through — months, probably — so I wasn’t going to start selling them yet.
Instead, I just made use of my own. I’d activate it with a flare of mana, set it to check the mana in my head, and then set it down while I began to work.
I still had 24/31 mana remaining when I started getting my headache. I’d been stopping far before I was at any risk.
Even with that knowledge, my terror at the idea of causing myself harm meant that I wasn’t willing to risk spending anywhere close to the maximum that the device was telling me.
Sure, it was irrational. I knew that the values that the formula gave us were already designed to give us wiggle room for safety before we caused ourselves any permanent harm. Unfortunately, when I contemplated the consequences of pushing myself, it put me into a state of panic that no degree of conscious knowledge could counter.
The mana watch served a valuable purpose, though. With it, I managed to steel myself sufficiently to go down to half what the device told me would be safe. And that meant spending almost more than three times as much mental mana than I ever had before.
Regularly. Several times a day. After all, my mental mana recovered fast. Any mana directly connected to an attunement would recover much more quickly than normal mana would.
Within another week, I’d upped my maximum from 31 to 40. I was still behind where I should have been roughly seventeen weeks into the year, but finally, I had some chance of eventually catching up.
* * *
I was in the middle of trying to form a mana crystal without a quartz case when I heard a knock on the door.
A conundrum.
If I got up to answer, I’d lose all my progress. The mana I was channeling into my palm would evaporate almost immediately when I stopped concentrating on maintaining the crude mana shell around it.
I settled for a middle ground. “Who’s there?”
“Corin! It’s Patrick!”
I groaned, watching the half-formed crystal in my palm flake and disintegrate as I released my focus. “Be right there.”
I pushed myself to my feet, still mourning the loss of the closest thing to a success I’d managed so far. I had a pretty good store of crystals I’d built inside quartz molds at this point, but the molds — while cheap — were almost as valuable as the crystals I was making.
Rather than selling the crystals directly, I’d been making simple practice items with the crystals, but none of them were Carnelian-level, and thus they weren’t likely to sell.
I opened the door, offering Patrick a wave. He must have seen the exhaustion on my face, because he frowned when he looked at me. “Everything okay?”
I nodded wearily. “Yeah. Just been stressed with one of my projects.”
“Making another mana necklace thing?”
I shook my head. “Trying to figure out how to make mana crystals without a mold.”
“What for?”
It hadn’t occurred to me that the answer might not be completely obvious. “So I can make us better magic stuff.”
“Oh! Yeah, that makes sense. Uh, here, your sister wanted me to give this to you.” He reached into a bag on his hip, pulling out a smaller pouch and offering it to me.
I accepted the bag, lifting it curiously and hearing the clink of metal. “Running Sera’s errands now?”
Patrick chuckled. “Uh, not exactly. Can I come in?”
“Yeah, of course.” I gestured to my room magnanimously. “My home is your home.”
Patrick chuckled weakly in reply, coming in and planting himself on my bed. “Uh, about that, actually. Sort of.”
I closed the door behind him, raising an eyebrow. “What, you looking to move in? I know having a room near Roland must be grating, but—”
“Not that. I mean, you’re not wrong,” he grinned, continuing, “but that’s not why I’m here. First, check out the goods in there.”
I opened the pouch, pouring it out. A few coins dropped into my hand.
Gold coins.
“What the—”
“Sera finally got paid for that whole stage thing she did. I guess they told her to set a big chunk aside for taxes, but she still got more money than I’ve ever seen out of it. That’s about half of it, I think. Sixty or so silver worth in gold coins. She wants you to make her something. Should be a note in there, too.”
Ah, her first hint of wealth and she’s already sending people to do her bidding. Oh, Sera. Mad from power at such a young age.
Or, maybe there was another explanation.
I felt like a bit of a jerk for not checking on her more frequently. “Is she feeling okay? That Survival Match took a lot out of her.”
Patrick glanced from side-to-side nervously. “Oh, yeah, she’s fine. Got a bit of a cough, but the Mender said she’s recovering. I volunteered to bring the coin coins for her because, uh, I wanted to ask you something. And to do something nice for her.”
I still wasn’t seeing where this was going. “Okay?”
“I could kind of use your advice. You aren’t, um, seeing Sera, are you?”
I blinked. Rapidly. “…no? I mean, I know it’s recent, but she’s supposed to be my family now, right?”
“Ah, um, that’s good. I mean, you two were always close when you were younger, and I thought maybe there was something, like, romantic…”
I waved a hand to cut him off. “It was never like that. At least, not for me. She was supposed to be trained to be one of my retainers. We were close friends. We still are. Kind of like my friendship with you, actually.”
I still wasn’t clear where this line of questioning was leading. Why would my feelings for Sera be relevant?
“Oh, great. That’s… well, you see, I’ve been thinking about asking Sera to the winter ball.”
Oh.
Oh!
I laughed, to which Patrick’s expression turned to utter horror.
“You… oh… I don’t have a chance, do I? Is it really that funny?” His cheeks flared crimson.
I waved both hands. “Oh, no! Sorry, Patrick. I was laughing at myself for completely missing what you were getting at until you hit me over the head with it. I never realized you had any interest in Sera!” I paused, scratching my chin.
I never really asked either of them about how they’d been getting along in the years I was away. Honestly, I didn’t really ask either of them about how they’ve been doing in general. I need to be better about that.
Either way, I can’t see how Sera would have a problem with Patrick just asking.
Having reached my conclusion, I continued, “You’re fine. I don’t see any problem with you asking her.”
Patrick turned his head to the side. “Yeah, except that I’m not good enough.”
Okay, definitely not seeing what’s going on here again.
I folded my arms. “How so? You’re athletic; you’re doing fine in class…”
He chuckled. “I’m a nobody, Corin. That might have been fine when we were kids. She was a retainer for a noble house, but that’s only one rung above a commoner. Not insurmountable. Now, she’s like you. A full-on noble.”
“You really think that still matters these days?”
He gave me a solemn nod. “Yeah. It really does. It’s great that you don’t care about that sort of thing. It’s something I like about you. Lots of people our age don’t care about it. But think about your dad, Corin. Would he approve of Sera Cadence going to the winter ball with the son of a carpenter?”
I frowned. “No, not really, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t approve of her going to a dance with anyone. My plan would be to not tell him.”
“Would that be Sera’s plan, though? She cares about face a little more than you do. She’s proud to finally be a noble. And it’s not just ‘a dance’. The winter ball is a big event. It’s not just for our school; it’s a city-wide event. All sorts of nobles are going to be there, and she’d probably want to be dancing with one of them.”
I hadn’t really considered that. Maybe the title meant more to her because she hadn’t been born with it?
Would she really care enough about status to turn down a friend for some kind of stupid school dance?
Probably not, I decided, but she might be disappointed that she was going with a friend instead of someone she considered to be a worthy suitor.
I scratched my chin. “Did you want me to ask her on your behalf or something?”
“Oh, goddess, no.” He held his hands over his eyes. “I have something bigger to ask for, actually. Something I’d been meaning to ask you anyway, outside of this.”
I waggled my eyebrows at him. “What, you want to take me to the ball instead?”
He let out a weak laugh in reply. “No, but I do have a serious request.”
He stood from the bed, straightened himself to his full height, and then knelt down in front of me. “Corin Cadence, will you accept me into your service?”
What.
I blinked. “Uh, what are you doing?”
I mean, I knew, but—
“I’m asking for you to formally make me one of your retainers. I know that’s not a simple request. I…uh, brought a copy of the oath, if you’re willing.”
I laughed, putting a hand to my head.
I’d…always wanted a retainer. Someone to watch my back, to tell me when I was being an idiot. Someone who could cover for my weaknesses and reinforce my strengths.
Of course, I’d expected it to be Sera kneeling in front of me. If life had taken a little different path, we would have taken formal oaths to each other the day after we’d received our attunements.
This was better.
I didn’t want someone to be my bodyguard because their family had pressed them into my service as a child.
Patrick’s motives might have been skewed by a desire to be close to Sera, but that was fine.
He’d stepped in to defend me against Teft on the first day of classes without me even needing to ask.
He’d stepped in to deflect a shot that would have hit me right at the beginning of the war cane test. Then we’d fought side-by-side.
And, moreover, he’d treated me like my three year disappearance had never happened. He was still the same friend I’d known since childhood.
That was the kind of person that I could trust.
If he was willing to take this serious of a step in order to be closer to my family… All the better. I couldn’t see how having a retainer with a close connection with Sera would have a downside.
I smiled and knelt down, my eyes level with his.
“I’m bad at tradition,” I explained. “But I’d be honored to have you as a retainer, Patrick. You’ve always been a loyal friend. And if you want to say the oath, I know the words.”
He winced. “I’m going to need the note.”
“Well, get it out, then.”
Patrick opened his pack, retrieving a carefully rolled scroll. A scroll. This really was formal.
He broke the wax seal on the scroll and unrolled it, and he began to read.
“I, Patrick Wayland, do hereby swear my loyalty to Corin of the House of Cadence.
I offer him my strength of arms, my wise council, and my life’s blood.
I will serve no other master.
I will make no other oath that would betray this one.
I will take no action that would betray my master’s trust.
I offer this service of my free will and with honest intent.
May the goddess witness this oath and bind me with this pledge.”
I felt a foreign pang of emotion that I couldn’t quite characterize. I’d never been good at emotions, but there was something bittersweet about the scene we were playing out. I think a part of me wanted to let out a few tears in that moment.
I took a deep breath.
“I, Corin Cadence, do hereby accept you, Patrick Wayland, into the service of House Cadence.
I will be sheltered by your strength, be guided by your council, and be preserved by your blood.
I will honor your oath with my own.
I will entrust you with my safety, for you are my shield.
I will entrust you with my knowledge, for you are my guide.
And I will grant you my strength, for you are my hand.
My house is now your own, and you will always have shelter there.
I accept your bond of my free will and with honest intent.
May the goddess witness this oath and bind me with this pledge.”
I closed my eyes and, with the slightest hint of a tear forming, chuckled softly. “Arise, Patrick, retainer of the House of Cadence. I think we have some paperwork to sign.”
He extended his hand and I clasped it.
And, with that, we stood as one.
* * *
I spent much of the rest of the day with Patrick, between dealing with the paperwork that we’d need to mail off to formally make him my retainer and just discussing how he should approach Sera about the dance.
We ended up agreeing that we’d wait until we received a formal acceptance of his new status before he’d ask. Not because we thought Sera would disapprove otherwise, but because it would put Patrick in a stronger position.
When I handed in the paperwork at the courier’s office, I knew the first place it would be going was to my father. His signature would be required to formalize the process. Even as a potential family heir, I couldn’t take on a new retainer without his express permission.
I didn’t foresee any problems, though. If anything, this would probably be one rare event in which my father would actually be pleased. Earning a retainer would help legitimize me as a noble.
I hadn’t passed Patrick my glove. That was a more significant step, essentially trusting a single favored retainer to be my primary one. Since I didn’t even have multiple retainers, it seemed like the gesture wouldn’t mean as much. I’d planned to give it to Sera when we’d been young, but she’d been literally groomed from birth to protect me, so it would have been strange not to.
In retrospect, I hoped that bringing Patrick into my service wouldn’t offend Sera — it was possible she’d been considering asking him to work for her — but I didn’t think it would pose a problem. Retainers in service to a specific family member were still expected to be a part of the household and work closely with everyone else in the house; serving me in specific was more of a formality, at least from my perspective.
Of course, if he actually wanted to try to marry her, that would be a bit more complicated, but I wasn’t thinking of that as a serious possibility. We were teenagers, and he had a passing crush.
Probably.
I didn’t really understand relationship stuff.
Anyway, with that hurdle cleared, I got back to my work and my newly-acquired pile of gold.
Sera’s letter had, unfortunately, left explicit instructions on what I was supposed to do with it.
“Corin,
I’ve been working on a priority list for items that I think we need for the next test. Of these, I believe my top priorities are as follows:
Mana storage or some other method of increasing my mana capacity.
A method for increasing the power of my summoned creatures. Ideally, something to provide a vast amount of power in an emergency.
Teleportation or flight.
Stronger defensive measures.
Healing.
I would like for you to build me as powerful of an item as you can for one of the five above functions, in order of priority. If any gold is remaining after the first item is completed, focus on the second, and so forth. You may keep one of the six coins as your commission.
See me if you have any questions.
Yours,
Sera”
I wanted to argue with her priorities to work on what I thought was important, but I couldn’t disagree with her. That was actually a really solid list.
I did, however, need considerably more detail to know which option to work with. So, I went to visit Sera to ask her directly.
She wasn’t at her room, so I ended up spending the rest of the day working on my own projects. I finally remembered to talk to her again a couple days later.
When she opened the door to her room, she folded her arms, glowering at me. “Corin. To what do I owe the magnanimity of your presence?”
I blinked. “I wanted to talk to you about the items you wanted?”
She wrinkled her nose. “What, you didn’t want to just, decide on something important like that without me?”
“Uh…no?” I scratched my chin. “You’re pretty obviously angry at me, but let’s assume I’m a complete jerk and don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ugh. Come in.” She gestured and I followed her inside. She shut the door loudly, but I wouldn’t quite call it a “slam”.
Back to folded arms. “I just received a letter from father asking what I think about your decision to offer a retainer position to Patrick.”
Oh.
Well, this is awkward.
“Aaaand your mad because I didn’t ask you about it first?”
She nodded firmly. “Patrick and I are friends, too, you know! Did you never consider that I might have some input? And a retainer — that’s a very serious decision, Corin. Not just for you, for the whole house!”
I winced. She was right about that, of course. And, I’d more or less promised to treat her as an equal, so making an executive decision about Patrick without even bringing the idea up to her…might have been a little bit hasty.
“I’m bad at these things, Sera. Sorry?” I put my hands up in a gesture of surrender.
“This is not a matter where a simple apology will be sufficient, Corin. Did you ever consider that maybe, just possibly, I had been thinking about making him my retainer?”
“Afterward,” I admitted, “But that probably would have made things more awkward.”
“What, is asking me something really so difficult?”
I lowered my eyes, shaking my head while I considered how to address the situation. “Uh, no. It’s not that at all. There were…special circumstances? If I told you more, it might be a problem with Patrick.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying you didn’t consult me because Patrick has some sort of problem with me? Because, you know, that would be an even bigger reason to talk to me before—”
“It’s not that, Sera.” I sighed. “I’m bad at this, so Patrick is just going to have to forgive me for being blunt. Has he asked you anything…uh, event related, recently?”
She frowned, looking briefly introspective. “No?”
I wiped my forehead. “Okay, spoiling the surprise here. He wants to ask you to the winter ball. And, since you’re a noble now, he was worried that would be inappropriate. Of course, asking you to make him your retainer right before asking you to a dance would look like he was just trying to get in your pants to move up the social ladder. So…”
“…you made him your retainer, so that he could have sufficient standing to ask me to a dance.”
I made a concluding swish of my hands. “Precisely.”
She put a hand over her eyes. “Are you daft, Corin? You let him take a life-long sacred oath so he could ask me to a dance?”
“Mmm. When you put it that way, it does sound pretty bad. But he was so sincere and adorable about wanting to ask you—”
Sera sighed, folding her hands in front of her. “Corin. For the future, please promise me you will not make any life-altering oaths in order to influence my love life.”
I considered that for a moment. “Wait, wouldn’t agreeing to that be a contradiction? I mean, wouldn’t I literally be making a—”
She took a step closer, looking me in the eyes. “Corin. I’m not kidding with you here. I am not amused by this, but I can tell you didn’t have any malicious intent. You thought he was being romantic. Fine. That is not a sufficient reason to make a decision regarding our house without my knowledge. Especially if it was to enable someone to court me.”
That wasn’t the only reason. I really did want Patrick as a retainer.
I took a deep breath. I wanted to argue, to snap back that the oath was between me and Patrick, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that she had a point.
I’d put her in a bad position. If he’d gone this far out of his way just to get the standing necessary to ask her to a dance, saying “no” to him would be devastating. Which meant that I’d just put a bunch of pressure on Sera, without even considering how she felt about the situation.
I turned my head away. “Okay. You’re right. I made a decision that impacts you without even thinking about it. I’m sorry, and I won’t do it again. From this point on, I’ll talk to you about any other house-related matters before I make any decisions.”
“House-related or anything pertaining directly to me, Corin.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I just… didn’t want to ruin the surprise of him asking you. You know?”
“I understand, Corin. If he was just asking for advice from a friend, that’s fine. I don’t expect you to tell me about that. But for what it’s worth? You don’t know a thing about my love life. You’ve never asked. And, as it happens, I already have a date for that dance.”
“…Oh.”
She folded her arms. “And now, you get to share in my awkwardness. Assuming Patrick ever gets up the resolve to ask.”
And that was how I learned to never interfere in the relationships of my friends.
* * *
It was about twenty more minutes before we’d finally finished talking things out and gotten to a point where she was willing to talk to me about business again.
I pointed at the list. “Okay, first item. Mana storage device.”
She sat down on the floor, and I sat across from her, the paper between us. “Yeah. Seems rather obvious - running out of mana is a common problem, so I could use something that would help me refill my supply.”
“I figured that was your plan. Unfortunately, that particular route won’t work.”
She twisted her lips. “Why not? It sounds like a simple enchantment.”
“It is. It would, however, also probably kill you.”
“What?”
I chuckled. “A little hyperbole, maybe. So, when I enchant something, the item basically has my mana signature on it. Even if you store mana in it, that mana is getting exposed to my mana that’s in the device all the time. And mana belonging to other people is generally toxic.”
“Even for siblings? Wouldn’t we have similar mana?”
I…hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe? I don’t actually know how dangerous that would be… probably less than it would be for strangers, yeah. We probably do have similar types of mana. But I don’t know how far that goes. I’ve never heard of anyone sharing mana.”
And, while I wasn’t going to say it out loud — she’d just finally started to forgive me for my blunder with Patrick — I wasn’t actually certain we were siblings. Half-siblings seemed more likely, if even that. Knowing my father, this whole “legitimizing” her could have been a political game of some kind.
Could I determine that through magic?
Almost definitely, I decided.
I imagined magical paternity tests were probably routine for cases where people were accused of infidelity, and someone had probably come up with a way to test people further removed for bloodline connections. Like to determine if someone was from a royal line, for instance.
I’d have to look into that at some point.
“Okay, so it’d be a risk. How hard would it be to try it with just a small amount of mana?
I scratched my chin. “I don’t actually think you could use a storage device even if I made one, unless you have a spell to pull mana out of things. Shapers can do that, and I think more advanced Enchanters might be able to, but I don’t think it’s a standard thing for all attunements.”
“Oh. I guess I was just picturing something where I push on a rune and it starts sending mana into me until I push the rune again?”
I shook my head. “Your skin would block it. We’re all naturally resistant to mana getting into our bodies from outside sources. It’s not a simple process to force mana into someone. That’s part of why you see so many offensive spells that focus on throwing projectiles — or making an attack explode right in front of someone — rather than, say, making a fireball inside someone’s body. Even if you made physical contact, which would make it somewhat easier, you’d have to force your mana through the body’s natural insulation.”
She stared at the page, looking contemplative. “Huh.”
I don’t think I’d ever managed to stymy her so thoroughly before. Nice.
“Wait, what about how Derek’s monster helped recharge my mana during the Survival Match?”
I thought about that. “I don’t know a lot about how monsters work, honestly. I assume it had some way of purifying the mana to make it safe, then it probably had to force a lot of mana into you to get through your skin. I can’t make an item that does that at my level of skill.”
She seemed to accept that answer, but I decided I’d have to look into it more at some point. Mana recharging charging items could be useful. In the meantime, I had an alternate suggestion. “If I had mana in an item and put in a rune to eject it into the air, would you be able to reshape it into a spell?”
Sera frowned. “Don’t think so. If it was ice mana, maybe I could make an attack out of it? But doesn’t mana dissipate quickly in the air?”
“Yeah, it’d be inefficient. You’d probably lose a lot of mana that way. Don’t know another way to make a storage device you could use, though.”
We sat for a minute in silence.
“What about something that just added more mana into a spell I’m casting?”
“Maybe?” I considered the idea. How would that work? “I don’t know enough about how your spells work to answer that, honestly. I pretty much just shove mana at things.”
“So, my incantations determine the spell that I’m casting. Different incantation? Different spell. Except there are these things called ‘shaping lines’. They’re extra lines I can add to an incantation to change the way it works, with an extra cost. When I finish the spell, my attunement draws the necessary mana out of me, and the spell happens.”
I nodded. “Do you guide your attunement toward which parts of the body it draws from?”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“How?”
“Just by thinking about where I want it to take from.”
I scratched my chin. “There’s some potential there, then… if you could get your attunement to think an item was a part of your body, maybe it could reach into the item to pay the mana cost. But that might mean passing the mana through the object into your body before the spell goes off — which could, as we discussed earlier, make you sick. If you could even use the item at all.”
“Okay, what about setting up the item to detect when I’m casting a spell, detect the result of the spell, and channel mana into the result?”
That…seemed possible, but it also didn’t seem to help. “Yeah? You could do that, but I don’t think it’d make your spell any cheaper.”
She pointed at the second item on the list. “I was thinking something more like that. Or, in between the first item and the second.”
“Oh, to make the spell stronger? Yeah, that actually seems pretty doable. But would just throwing extra mana into a summoning spell actually do anything useful?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Summoned monsters are really good at shaping mana for their own uses. Remember that karvensi I summoned?”
“Sure.” I frowned. “Now that you mention it, he was casting a lot of spells.”
“And spells I couldn’t provide the mana for. I don’t have lightning or fire mana. Summoning spells use transference, air, and gray mana. He got the mana that was left over from the spell after I finished summoning him - and he reshaped it himself. If I’d given him more mana to work with, he could have done more with it.”
Huh. “That reminds me — wasn’t he using some of the same spells you were, but without incantations?”
“Yeah. Using incantations for broad-area spells seem to primarily be a human limitation — monsters shape their magic naturally, so they generally don’t need them.”
That was interesting. Could I figure out a way to set things up for a human to distribute mana across a broad area without incantations like a monster could?
One more research project for the long list.
“Okay, yeah. I think we can make a spell-enhancement item work. In fact, I could probably make something similar for Patrick if I can afford it.”
She frowned when I said Patrick’s name. That was not a good sign.
I continued, “Anyway, do you want me to spend everything you gave me on the one item, or try to save some for additional items?”
“Gimme the strongest thing you can make. We can always make more items later. I’d rather have one really good item that isn’t going to be replaced when you get stronger in a few months.”
I agreed with her logic. “Okay. Do you want something that’s self-recharging or something we have to manually refill?”
She raised an eyebrow. “What’s the advantage of the latter?”
“Half as many runes for me to make, so I don’t have to buy as many crystals. That means I can buy a bigger crystal to give it a larger mana capacity.”
“Got it. Go with that, then.”
“You sure? That means you’ll probably only be able to use it once per test. If even that — recharging something we make with a big crystal is going to be hard.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’d rather have a strong emergency measure.”
“Okay. What mana type do you want?”
That one took her a minute of consideration. “Gray. As much as I want to say ice, it’d be too hard to recharge, and less generally useful.”
I didn’t quite understand her hesitation. “Wouldn’t gray work for anything?”
She shook her head. “For any summoning spell, yes. But not for my normal offensive ice spells, and I might want to hit something with a really powerful ice storm, rather than call on a summoned monster. I can convert gray mana, of course, but that’s inefficient.”
“Oh, that makes sense. Maybe if this ends up working we can make you an ice one eventually.”
“I’d like that, but let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. I’m not that rich.”
I grinned. “Not yet. Okay, let’s settle on this one as my next project, but I wanted to discuss some of these other ideas for the future…”
The rest of the conversation was much more pleasant, but I knew that I had a lot more work to do before she was going to truly trust me again.
Chapter XVI — Testing Phase Two
Professor Meltlake floated, rather than stood, in front of the class when I arrived and took my seat. She was only about four feet above the ground, but it was both noticeable and impressive. She sat on the air like a cushion with no clear gestures or words to maintain the spell.
Given what I recalled of Meltlake’s previous lectures, I suspected the effortless manipulation of mana was a calculated move on her part. While Teft preferred direct confrontations for shock and awe, Meltlake liked to draw us in with little casual uses of magic that brought out our curiosity.
At an otherwise unremarkable moment — one I suspected to be the precise moment an unseen clock ticked to the starting time of our class — Meltlake lifted her head and glanced around the classroom, her lips twisting almost imperceptibly downward.
That muted displeasure was an uncomfortable pressure for me, even though I suspected it was directed at those students who were still sitting down. Or worse, those few that remained absent.
“Students, attention.”
We turned our gaze toward her, conversations silencing in an instant. If we had a military salute, we probably would have given one, but we weren’t quite at that point in our training yet.
If I handled things right, I’d never get to that point. I had no intention of joining the military. Not for traditional service, at least. I couldn’t afford to. I knew it was extremely unlikely that I’d make it to the top of the tower before graduating. Most stories of successful climbers indicated that they took decades to reach the top — and success stories were rare.
I needed to make sure I scored high enough to qualify for becoming a military-sponsored climber when I graduated.
Even if I did rescue Tristan before graduating, I still had no interest in joining the military. Military service had destroyed my great grandfather’s mind. The military had taught my father to “discipline” me into success. I didn’t want to end up like either of them.
“Today, we’ll be discussing Valia’s relationships with the most prominent kingdoms on Kaldyn. We’ll discuss the smaller kingdoms, as well as kingdoms on other continents, in future classes. We’ll begin with our geographic neighbors. Dalenos in the north and Edria to our south.”
The mention of Dalenos made me think about Jin. There were a considerable number of foreign students here, but I’d only seen a handful of others from Dalenos. They were notoriously insular. Not necessarily xenophobic — they didn’t seem to have any problems trading with Valia or with our own students visiting them — but my impression was that they were very patriotic and that most of their citizens weren’t very interested in learning about our culture.
Professor Meltlake turned one hand upward and opened her palm. “If this is Valia…,” a white cloud, roughly triangular in shape, but with deep gaps that presumably represented bodies of water, “Then this would be Dalenos.”
She opened her right hand, and a blue cloud manifested. This one was more rectangular in shape. It formed along the north western angle of Valia’s triangular shape, stretching both further west and north. The rectangle had a large chunk missing from the center, and another on the southern side. The first one represented a big lake with a name I could never remember, and the second presumably signified the Unclaimed Lands — territory infested with vicious beasts that had never been fully settled.
“Dalenos is unique among our nations in that they are directly led and guided by one of the visages — Katashi, the Visage of Justice. While we use the term “kingdom” for simplicity, they are not a kingdom in the traditional sense; their monarch is largely a figurehead. Katashi, and by extension his priesthood, control all legal and military forces in the region. Thus, it is more accurately referred to as a theocracy.”
A student I didn’t recognize stood up to indicate she had a question. Professor Meltlake turned her head. “Yes, Constance?”
“Aren’t we all theocracies, then? I mean, don’t we all follow the same Goddess?” Constance asked, sitting back down.
Professor Meltlake shook her head. “While all nations on the continent do revere Selys, praise be to her name, most of our governments draft their own laws without direct guidance from the visages. Each of the largest nations — often colloquially referred to as the ‘Four Powers’ — do have some form of guidance from a patron visage. This generally comes in the form of occasional advice to the rulers or council. In Dalenos, Katashi and his priesthood directly control the rule of law. If there is a significant dispute, the priesthood can escalate the question to Katashi directly. He spends much of his time living directly among the people of the city in his grand cathedral.”
Another student stood up. “Does that mean that Dalenos is more important than the rest of our nations?”
Meltlake actually laughed. That was a rarity. “They’d certainly like us to think so. Historically, however, it’s more complicated than that. Five nations, including our own, used to have a visage that lived among them and helped govern in some capacity. While Dalenos would claim that their visage’s presence means that they’re the only ones who still deserve the honor, the rest of our governments tend to think we’ve just outgrown needing divine oversight. As for who is right?”
The professor shrugged. “That’s a question for the visages, not for me.”
The student sat down, a thoughtful expression on his face.
All I could think about was how glad I was that we didn’t have a visage watching over us all the time. One encounter with Katashi had been more than enough for my tastes.
Meltlake glanced around, presumably checking for more questions, and then continued after a few seconds. “Dalenos is the home to the Tortoise Spire. Of the six Shifting Spires, the Tortoise Spire is the least explored; mostly due to how difficult it is to earn the right to explore the tower for non-citizens. While all other nations allow travelers to explore their Shifting Spires for a modest fee, visiting the Tortoise Spire requires an application and interview process. This process can often take months, or even years. Thus any visit to the Tortoise Spire must be planned far in advance.”
“Next,” she waved her right hand, manifesting an expansive red cloud that stretched beneath both of the two existing ones, and even further out to the west, “Edria. Or, more formally, ‘West Edria’ and ‘East Edria’, though the distinction is falling apart these days. Edria is the single most powerful military force on the continent.”
She squeezed her hand, illuminating a flickering boundary between the two portions of Edria. “During the Six Years War, Edria invaded our bordering kingdom of Kelridge. At the time, Kelridge was a part of Dalenos. Dalenos’ queen was a Keldridge native. She remained in the nation during the invasion, refusing to surrender even when Edrian troops had surrounded her fortress. Along with her loyal retainers, she endured a full year of grueling siege, hoping that her allies from Valia or Caelford would push back the Edrian troops — but we never succeeded in dislodging them. They called her the Unbroken Queen.”
Meltlake shook her head. “Perhaps she would have withstood the siege even longer, but her people were starving. She was assassinated — and most believe it was by one of her own people. With her fall, Kelridge officially surrendered and became East Edria. Those who remained loyal to the Unbroken Queen maintained the house’s surname, Dalen, as a way of honoring her. Of course, the royal family of Dalenos still uses the same name as well.”
The professor pointed her hand again, causing the western border of Valia to glow. “With Kelridge conquered, Edria pushed further east, all the way to the Valian border, before finally ceasing their assault.”
I knew that story all too well — my great grandfather, Alaric Cadence, had defeated one of the invading army’s officers in single combat to end the war. I was sure that duel was more of a formality — they would not have ever agreed to the duel if they hadn’t wanted an excuse to stop the military push.
Edrian forces had been encamped in the bordering mountain range for months without being able to successfully push into Valian territory, and with winter rapidly approaching, the duel was a way to end the conflict in a way that saved face for both sides.
While some took this as a sign of Valia’s impregnable defenses, most of my family believed that Edria was simply biding their time for a better opportunity to strike.
After all, they’d already obtained what they truly wanted in the push.
The professor explained that next. “During the conquest of Kelridge, Edria became the first nation to control two of the Shifting Spires. Edria was built near the Hydra Spire, home of Orochi the God Hydra, and historically that had been their primary source of attunements. Kelridge was the home to the Phoenix Spire, the seat of Suzaku, the God Phoenix.”
Another student stood up — Lei, one of the few students I knew was from East Edria. “Professor, not to be disrespectful, but we do not refer to Suzaku as a phoenix — nor would we call Orochi a hydra, or even a god among them. They are distinct creatures.”
Meltlake nodded. “Ah, I was wondering if someone would bring that up. In Valia, Miss Zhang, we refer to each of the god beasts by their closest analogue among common monsters. It is merely a categorization tool, useful for our citizens to easily visualize and remember each of the towers. I understand that in East Edria, Suzaku remains a deep part of your culture, and that conflating it with an ordinary type of monster may come across as disrespectful. Please understand that no disrespect is intended — and we do teach more detailed information about each of the god beasts and their histories during the second year.”
Lei frowned, but she simply said, “Thank you, professor,” and sat back down. It was obvious she wanted to say more, but I think she was smart to leave the issue alone — I sincerely doubted that any further argument would accomplish anything.
I probably would have been more sympathetic if I thought of the god beasts as anything other than horrifying monsters of city-shattering power. I knew that East Edria thought of Suzaku as a positive force, more like how we treated the visages, but I’d never been raised to think of the god beasts that way. It was difficult to imagine a powerful monster being anything other than terrifying.
“Now,” Professor Meltlake continued, “Some of you have asked me why we still allow people from Edria to visit, in spite of the movements of Edrian troops along the border. The answer is that we are — most definitively — not at war. Troop movements are commonplace for both of our countries, and we have been at peace with Edria for decades. While we must remain vigilant, Edria has shown no sign of overt aggression.”
I heard some murmurs of disagreement among the class, but Meltlake didn’t stop talking. “I know that many of you are concerned, but our soldiers are well-trained, and we are quite prepared for any potential attack. Perhaps more importantly, Edria is still allowing our own citizens to visit them freely, including making the treks to both of their towers. Most military experts believe that Edria would cut off our access to their towers and expel our citizens before attempting any military action — initiating a war while we had capable attuned deep inside Edrian territory would be an extremely dangerous move.”
A few nods of agreement at that, but I wasn’t one of them. How many attuned could we possibly have visiting their towers? A couple dozen, maybe, if that? I was confident that twenty or thirty attuned loose in a warring nation would be a frustration, but I sincerely doubted they would be a sufficient threat to deter a war.
Professor Meltlake was probably just trying to keep the class from worrying — and I understood that, but I didn’t necessarily agree with it. Then again, I had a tendency to overthink things. Not everyone appreciated obsessively theorizing the same way that I did.
“Now,” Professor Meltlake twisted her left hand, manifesting a silvery cloud on the far western side of her map. “Caelford is the last of the Four Powers. They are an industrious nation, famous for their mechanical engineering and scientific experimentation. We consider them our closest allies, both due to their assistance in the Six Years War and our many centuries of trade prior to that.”
She closed her hands, causing both Valia and Caelford’s clouds to glow a brighter. “Perhaps even more importantly, they border Edria on the western side of the continent, where we border Edria on the east — if either of our nations should fall, the other would be at substantial risk of being attacked next.”
Grinning, Professor Meltlake continued. “Caelford is the home to the Tiger Spire, where Byakko, the God Tiger, resides. It’s also the home of Ferras, the most active of the visages aside from Katashi. Ferras doesn’t run the government — instead, she works directly with her citizens on science and engineering projects that interest her. She’s also notoriously informal — she travels without a retinue and dresses in ordinary clothes, which has led to a few rather embarrassing mistakes over the years.”
I pictured someone trying to kick a drunken visage out of a bar — that sounded hilarious.
That’s one visage I might actually be interested in meeting. Maybe I could get her to teach me more about how attunements actually work.
Professor Meltlake lifted a finger and drew a line across the map from Caelford to Valia. “While we’ve always had robust trade with Caelford, and the cross continental railroad that has made shipping goods far easier than at any previous point in history. For this reason, the railroad is extremely well-maintained — and well-defended. We have military bases at several locations along the rail, including two small bases in the Unclaimed Lands. It is very possible that after your attunement training is completed, you could be assigned to protect one of these key locations.”
“Now, that’s it for the Four Powers…”
Another student stood up. Professor Meltlake raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
The student folded his arms. “You mentioned five of the Shifting Spires — aren’t there six?”
Professor Meltlake nodded. “Yes. The location of the Spider Spire, however, is a closely-guarded secret. Most of your fellow students will guess that it lies in the Unclaimed Lands, but I’ll say this — that’s not the case. There is a tower in the Unclaimed Lands, but not one of the six.”
Now that got my attention. I knew that the Spider Spire’s location was a secret. I’d even spent some time unsuccessfully trying to figure it when I was younger. I was curious about that, but I was even more interested in this other tower.
Could there be a seventh spire? If so, would it be possible to get different attunements there?
I was just about to stand up to ask a follow-up question…
“And that’s all the time we have for today. Class dismissed!”
Oh, cruel temptation. She wanted us to wonder.
I sighed.
“Mysterious towers” was one more thing I’d need to fit into my research schedule. If this secret tower was connected to the six Shifting Spires, maybe it could help illuminate some additional secrets about how the towers truly worked.
* * *
Late one night, I heard a knock at my door. This was not all that unusual in itself, but I was still a little bit worried about potential assassins. I brought my sword with me as I approached the door. “Coming!”
I opened the door a few moments later. Jin was standing outside. He was standing with his back straight, wearing an intensely serious expression. “Corin.”
I waved at him. “Oh, hey, Jin. Don’t have any more items ready for you just yet, sorry.”
He shook his head. “I am not here for that.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What can I help you with?”
He raised a gloved hand to his chin. “It has been brought to my attention that there is a formal social event coming up in the winter. It is customary for students to attend with a date.”
I winced. The last time someone had asked me to help them find a date to the ball hadn’t exactly ended well. “You want me to ask someone for you?”
Jin tilted his head downward and laughed nervously. “No, Corin. I want you to come with me to the ball.”
Oh.
Oh!
I blinked. “Uh, I mean, as a friend? Or as a date?”
“As a date, unless you have an objection.”
“I…uh…”
“Breathe, Corin. You can think about it.”
Thinking. Right.
I did some of that breathing thing.
I didn’t know what to say.
Jin had stood out from the first moment I’d seen him. He was strange; he seemed smart. Our interactions always left me grinning. Was I attracted to him?
I mean, he had a pleasing aesthetic. Athletic body and all. I liked the shape of his chin?
But that just meant I liked looking at him. I still didn’t — what if he wanted to… It honestly never occurred to me that this might be an issue. I had no interest in asking anyone out, and the thought of someone taking an interest in me hadn’t crossed my mind.
Now that he’d asked, though… Could I date someone?
My face was reddening.
I closed my eyes for a moment, flexing my hands in the air and taking a deep breath. “Okay. Breathing now. I think I’m interested? I’ve never really done anything like this before. And, uh, just so you know, I’m not that into…touching?”
He nodded. “I’ve noticed. It won’t be a problem. We can dance if you decide you want to. If not, I would be more than happy just to have you there to talk with me.”
I laughed, just a hair too loud to be natural. Dancing. Is that all?
I think I can handle dancing.
Maybe.
Maybe just talking. Talking is fine.
“Okay, let’s go with that, then. It’s a date.”
“I look forward to it.” The slightest smile crossed his lips. “Good night.”
I nodded hastily. “Okay. Great. Good night.”
Jin closed the door.
I stared at it for another few moments before retreating to my bed, heart pounding in my chest.
What have I done?
I don’t know how to date!
In spite of my panic, a spark of excitement had been lit. As the minutes passed and my anxiety faded, I once more found myself grinning after our conversation.
I had a date!
* * *
Twenty weeks into the semester. It was time for our second major exam, and I didn’t feel anywhere close to ready.
We assembled for a strategy session the day before the test. Fortunately, we were using Marissa’s room this time, on account of it being much larger than mine. She was still in the Tortoise’s Heart, indicating she was getting excellent grades, but the rest of us were still stuck in the normal ones.
Except for Jin, maybe. I wasn’t actually sure if he was still in the room above me — I rarely visited him directly. He’d usually found me.
Even with the extra room, it was pretty cramped with five of us, but I was glad to see everyone.
Especially since I had presents.
I passed out the sigils first, since I had one for everyone. They were a simple enough design — a few runes etched into the back of a copper phoenix, about the same size as our usual existing shield sigils.
“What’s this?” Patrick accepted his phoenix sigil, fiddling with the pin on the back. “Should I put it on?”
“Wouldn’t hurt anything.” I handed out the last one, which Jin eyed dubiously. “They’re self-recharging shield sigils. Higher capacity than the class-issued ones, and if they’re drained, they’ll refill completely in about an hour. You can still recharge them manually, but you won’t need to unless it’s an emergency.”
Marissa blinked. “Wouldn’t something like that be super expensive?”
I grinned. “If you had to buy them, sure. Fortunately, aside from the metal, I made everything I needed myself. They’re not much more complicated than a standard shield sigil — just a few extra runes to make them recharge automatically.”
Jin scratched at his chin, turning the phoenix over in his hands. “Useful. I wasn’t aware you had reached the point of making Carnelian-level items en masse.”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten your list. In fact, I managed to get to one of your higher priority ones that I couldn’t make before.” I dug through the pouch on my side, withdrawing a monocle on a chain.
This one had been the toughest project yet — in part because of the amount of mental mana it required, and in part because I had to borrow a Shadow to test if it worked. Took three attempts to get everything working right, but it’d been worth it.
I handed it to him gingerly — I wasn’t going to risk tossing something so easily breakable.
In retrospect, maybe I should have thrown a resilience enhancement on it, too.
Jin lifted the monocle over an eye, frowned, and looked at his right arm.
Which promptly vanished.
I blinked, and I heard a few gasps from the others. We’d seen plenty of magic before, but Jin rarely showed off his capabilities in public.
Is he showing us a bit more trust, or is he just doing this as another step in obfuscating his real attunement?
I could ask him about it, but that might get him to retreat back into keeping everything to himself. If he’s a Spider, he probably can’t tell us anything more than he already has without losing points.
His arm reappeared a moment later. “Acceptable,” he pronounced. From the tiny curve of his mouth, though, I could see that I’d pleased him.
Patrick nudged me. “You going to share what that was with the rest of the class?”
“True Seeing,” Jin explained. “It sees through illusions and deceptions.”
“Mm.” I raised a finger. “Not quite True Seeing, unfortunately. That’s a higher level version of the same effect. But it generally functions the way you described — it just won’t work on extremely high level illusions.”
Jin gave a curt nod. “Of course. Thank you.”
“You got it.” I turned to Marissa next. “Your turn, Mara.”
She blinked. “You actually got me something? I, uh, there’s no way I can repay you for any of this…”
I laughed, startling her. “You’re a part of the team, Marissa. This is my contribution.” I looked around to the rest of the group. “Something we all need to be clear about — I’m not going to be able to pull the same kind of weight within the tests as the rest of you. Preparation is my strength. Sure, I’ll contribute ideas and muscle once we’re in there, but as you all get better with your attunements, the gulf in our abilities is only going to grow.”
I folded my hands together. “Best thing you can do to thank me? Use these. Both within the tests and outside them. And if they don’t work the way you want them to? Let me know. I can make adjustments, or hand the item to someone else and make you something different.”
I took out a plain copper bracelet and passed it over to Marissa. “If it makes you feel any better, this was the simplest item of the bunch. One of my favorites, though.”
She accepted the bracelet, turning it over in her hands. “What’s it do?”
“If it detects you sending mana through your arm, it sends more. It’s a standard design for Guardians, nothing fancy. Won’t interfere with your abilities — it just makes them stronger.”
Marissa snapped the bracelet on, grinning. “Means a lot that you ‘membered what I wanted. Can’t wait to hit something and see how these work.”
“Figured you would like them.” More digging through my bag before I produced a leather glove. “Ah, Sera. Yours.” I tossed it to her.
She caught it with narrowed eyes. “This is a House Cadence symbol.”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I kind of had that made for you.” I winked at her.
She took a deep breath. “I…don’t think I’m—”
“I never gave you a proper gift to welcome you into the family. But you’re family, and it’s about time I started treating you that way.”
She slipped off the blank glove she’d been wearing, trying the new one on. “It’s…a little big.”
I chuckled. “I didn’t know your exact size, so I had to guess. You’ll grow into it.”
“I’m seventeen, Corin. I don’t think my hands are growing that much more.”
I waved a hand dismissively. “We can get it tailored. That’s not the enchanted part.”
More digging through the bag, until I produced a metal bracer, which I passed to Sera. “I was going to make you a demi-gauntlet like mine, until I realized that would cover the house symbol. You should be able to strap this over the glove without a problem.”
“This what we talked about before?” She inspected the runes on the surface, then started strapping it on over the glove.
“Yup. See the bottom rune? The one that looks kind of like a guy with horns?”
“That looks nothing like a guy with horns, Corin.”
“Okay, but you see what I mean. I’m not an artist.”
“Thank the goddess for that small kindness.”
I raised three fingers in a rude gesture. “Anyway, if you want to use the bracer, touch that with your other hand and channel just a little bit of mana into it. Like what you’d do with a dueling cane. That primes it, and it’ll use the full mana reserve next time you try to summon something.”
She nodded. “How much did you manage to store in there?”
“One hundred and twenty mana.”
Sera blinked rapidly. “I didn’t think you even had that much.”
I lifted my necklace, showing off the “46/46” displayed on it. I’d gotten much stronger over the last three weeks of rapidly making items, but still nowhere near the mana held in that device. “I don’t. I cheated — there are four separate storage runes in there, each with 30 mana in them.”
“That’s still more than I thought you could do in one session.”
I tapped the necklace to my right hand, changing the display to “58/58”. “I couldn’t charge that much if it was mental mana, but the mana stored in those is gray. I charged them from my hand.”
Jin gave me a quizzical look. “Why do you have more mana in your hand than your attunement?”
Oh, right, I hadn’t told everyone about that.
“Paralyzing fear. Nothing for you to worry about.” I tapped the necklace to my forehead again, setting it back to monitor my mind. I got nervous any time it wasn’t actively doing that.
Jin raised a hand to his lips, looking like he wanted to say something more, but he remained silent.
Then Sera hugged me. “Thanks, Corin.”
Humancontacttoomuch.
I patted her awkwardly on the back, suppressing a shudder. It’s just Sera, I told myself. Hugging Sera is fine. She’s safe. You’re safe.
Comforting her when she was injured had been easier because I had initiated it myself. I still wasn’t good at handling other people touching me. It was easier with Sera than anyone else, but she’d surprised me. I probably would have panicked less if I had a chance to brace myself.
“Uh, you’re welcome. Thanks. Hope you like it.”
She released me a moment later, to my great relief.
Patrick looked at me expectantly.
I strongly considered pretending I didn’t get him anything, but it was too much effort. “And, of course, I saved the best for last.”
I tossed Patrick the ring, a House Cadence symbol on it.
Signet rings weren’t common in Valia. Gloves usually served the purpose of marking a noble house here. Rings were more common up in Dalenos, where they tended to be more traditional.
If we’d been down in Edria, I’m pretty sure my gesture would have been considered a proposal for marriage.
Heh.
Anyway, the ring itself wasn’t a big deal like giving him a glove would be, but it was still a symbol of the house, which made it a good gift.
And, it was metal set with a gem, which made it great for enchanting.
“Nice!” He slipped it on his pointer finger immediately. Fortunately, it looked like a good fit. I’d assumed correctly that he’d wear a ring about the same size as I did. “What’s it do?”
“It’s similar to what I made Sera and Marissa. It enhances your spells, but more like Marissa’s. It puts a bit of extra mana into every spell, rather than using it all at once like Sera’s. Also, it only works for lightning. Apparently, gray mana works for enhancing lightning, but it wouldn’t help other elemental spells.”
Patrick grinned wide. “Lightning’s the best, anyway.”
“Excellent. So, now that I’m bankrupt, let’s get to the actual planning session.”
* * *
We spent the next couple hours talking strategy and going over everyone’s new capabilities. We’d all been talking pretty frequently over the last ten weeks, so nothing was particularly surprising.
Sera still had access to the creatures she’d bound during the Survival Match, but she didn’t have enough mana to summon the wyvern. That was fine, as far as I was concerned. The ogre and karvensi were more than good enough. The karvensi had been considerably weaker than the wyvern in terms of raw power, but its intelligence and flexibility had made it just as effective, if not more so.
Patrick had been training with Meltlake constantly, but he’d shown a stronger affinity for lightning than her traditional fire spells. Fortunately, Meltlake was still capable of teaching those, and he’d picked up a couple noteworthy spells — a lightning storm that would periodically rain bolts on enemies, a weapon electrification spell, and a chain lightning spell that would jump between enemy targets.
Marissa had spent the vast majority of her time developing her shroud. When I briefly turned my attunement on, I was shocked by the intensity of it. Her shroud was already vastly stronger than the phoenix sigils I’d made us, and she seemed to be maintaining it without any effort. I wondered just how much damage it could deflect and what else she could do with it.
Jin assured us he’d gotten better at “everything” and left it at that.
It was the end of the night when I showed them what I’d made for myself — a saber with gray and transference enchantments layered across the surface to increase the striking power. It was a poor substitute for the Selys-Lyann, but at least I had a weapon I was allowed to use. I’d considered a dueling cane, but I didn’t need one. A saber was a better close-range weapon and I had the gauntlet to handle ranged attacks.
I wished I’d had more time to make some items focused on utility — detecting traps, increased mobility, teleportation, unlocking boxes and doors — but I’d pushed myself to the brink of exhaustion just trying to get these last few items ready in time.
That had also prevented me from making any items that were specifically intended for the test rooms we’d already seen. My priority was making sure the items that I made would be flexible enough to work in multiple tests, as well as the actual Serpent Spire.
Fortunately, now that I was capable of churning out roughly two or three magical items per week, I was confident I’d be much better prepared for our third test.
Assuming we didn’t fail out of the school during this one, of course.
And, with that rather sobering thought in mind, I made my way back to my room to sleep.
* * *
We didn’t have a second-year student to prep us for the test this time.
We had Professor Orden.
She was wearing a tailored black suit as usual, but she had her hair up in a bun today. Some sort of special occasion, maybe? She usually kept it down.
“Ah, some of my favorite students. Make sure to entertain me.”
The group exchanged worried glances.
The preparation room was the same. I glanced at the three exit doors with my attunement on. Two of them glowed with purple auras. Presumably the effect that would teleport us into the testing area.
“Same rules as last time,” Orden explained, leaning on a long dueling cane. “Any questions?”
Sera shook her head. “No, professor. I believe we’re clear.”
“Great. Who’s sitting out with me?”
We’d agreed on our plan the night before, but I still felt a little nervous.
Marissa spoke. “I’m starting outside.”
Orden raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re leaving your Guardian behind?” The teacher shook her head incredulously. “Well, whatever. Your funeral. Head to your doors, kids.”
I nodded, heading to the same door I’d taken last time. Patrick was with me — he’d be our muscle. Jin and Sera headed for the other door.
“Good luck,” Sera offered to us.
“Same,” I replied.
Professor Orden walked over to each group and handed a member of each team a return bell. “Don’t forget these.”
We accepted our return bells. I tucked mine away in my bag, turning toward the entrance door.
“Aaaaand…begin!”
I turned the door handle, swung the door wide—
—and appeared on a pedestal in the midst of a chamber filled with water.
Oh, resh.
We’re in the wrong room.
* * *
We’d talked about several different ways the test could go the previous night.
The test could have been identical to last time — same rooms, same configuration, same tricks.
We considered the possibility of a completely different test, too.
Or that the tests might outwardly look the same, but have subtle changes to trip us up.
We’d spent hours discussing ways to prepare for those more complex scenarios.
We’d never planned for the very simple idea of them swapping the entrance doors.
If we’d pre-planned for this scenario, it’d be trivial to just use the bells to switch rooms. But we don’t have any way to coordinate that now.
I really should have made an item to send messages.
I took a deep breath, scanning the room. It was bigger than the other chamber — but not by much. I could see several pedestals that were within jumping range, just as the others had described.
I could see the swirling of something moving within the water, too.
As much as the disruption was terrifying, the consistency with what the others had described to us was a comfort.
We hadn’t explicitly prepared for this, but we had shared information.
We knew what we were up against, and we could probably handle it.
But we did have a better solution.
I took the bell out of the bag. “Swapping for Mara. She’s been in here before.”
Patrick nodded. “Sorry if you’re bored out there.”
I shook my head. “No problem. Don’t get killed.”
I rang the return bell.
* * *
Sitting in the waiting room wasn’t exactly an epic adventure, but I felt like we’d taken the smart route, even if I didn’t get to contribute as much personally. Sometimes the success of the team was more important than my personal excitement.
Professor Orden was sitting in the waiting room. She raised an eyebrow at me as I appeared. “That was quick. Losing your nerve, Cadence?”
“Nothing like that. I wasn’t expecting you to switch the room configuration on us. Mara will be better at handling that room, since she’s been there before.”
Orden made a ‘hmm’ noise. “Perhaps.”
We sat in relative silence for the next few minutes. I was very tempted to ask what was happening with the Voice of the Tower, but this didn’t seem like the right place or time.
I was a little surprised when Jin appeared in the room, not far from where I’d teleported in.
What would have happened if we’d rung our bells one after another? Could people be teleported inside each other?
I shook my head, dismissing the disturbing thought.
Jin folded his arms at me. “Marissa was supposed to be in here.”
“We already swapped.”
“Hmpf. I was hoping to get Sera some real muscle. But I suppose you’ll have to do.”
I rolled my eyes at his teasing. “Your confidence in my abilities is overwhelming.” I stood up and headed to the exit door. “What should I know?”
“We handled the shadow monster.” Jin lifted up the monocle I made him. “Works.”
I blinked. I hadn’t expected invisibility detection to work on that shadow creature. Considering it could pass through walls, I figured it was some sort of plane shifting effect.
Not that I was complaining. I wanted to ask for more details, but Sera was waiting. “Anything else?”
“We opened the other door this time as planned. Might be even worse than the fire room — and it ate the key.”
Oh, perfect.
We’d been hoping that other room would be easier to handle than the fire statues. Apparently, we’d gambled poorly. “Details?”
“No imminent danger. Sera will show you what we’ve found.”
I nodded, waving to Jin and exiting the room.
I drew my sword before heading into Sera’s entrance. It never hurt to be prepared.
* * *
I felt my stomach lurch as I appeared in a familiar chamber.
The setup was similar to what I remembered — lit torches on the walls, a sealed container sitting in one corner, and a huge fountain in the center. The key had already been removed from the fountain.
There were only a couple differences from when I’d last left the room. One was the room that they’d chosen to open with the key, as Jin had already mentioned.
The second was Sera’s presence in the room — I hadn’t had her with me last time I’d gone in here. In fact, I’d never worked with her in any major test — we’d done some minor team activities in Teft’s class, but nothing of any significance.
She shot me a raised eyebrow when I appeared.
I shrugged in reply. “We already stole Marissa. I hope you’re not too disappointed. I could get a wig, maybe talk with a country accent?”
Sera sighed. “You barely pass for Corin Cadence, let alone anyone else.”
“Ouch.” I raised my free hand over my heart. “I’ll have you know that I almost considered participating in a play once. I’m practically a professional.”
“Clearly. In the meantime, let’s focus that professionalism on actually finishing this?”
I bowed at the waist. “Your wish is my command.”
She jerked a thumb toward the open door. “Get a glance at that.”
I walked over to the now-open door to an adjacent chamber. A long, red carpet trailed across the center of the thin room. My eyes narrowed at the style. It brought back unwelcome memories of the tower room where Katashi had appeared.
The carpet served as a trail, leading directly to a throne woven from vines. The throne was far too big for a human. It looked like it was designed to accommodate something on the scale of an ogre, but no creature sat atop it. Instead, a golden crown glittered in the center.
The path to the throne was maybe sixty feet — much longer than the distance across our current room. The room was thinner, however, maybe fifteen feet in width.
The sides of the room — basically the whole area off of the red-carpeted path — were enshrouded in vines covered in thorns the size of my fist. I ground my jaw just looking at them. They weren’t moving, but I could imagine them writhing around like snakes.
The danger seemed pretty straightforward. Something in that room would trigger the vines to attack.
Narrowing my eyes, I thought I could see a couple more glimmering objects within the vines somewhere. Possibly secondary objectives, or maybe the true objective, if the crown was a decoy.
Is there a key anywhere?
I didn’t see one, but maybe it was in that tangle of vines somewhere.
Interestingly, I didn’t see any doors within the chamber. Maybe there was one hidden behind the vines? Or maybe this direction just didn’t go any further and our objective was to obtain something inside.
I turned my head back to Sera. “Seems likely the vines are designed to attack.”
Sera chuckled. “Obviously. Anything more creative to contribute?”
I shrugged, turning back toward the room. Nervously, I glanced at my necklace. I hadn’t used any mana yet, but I had an obsessive need to check. 46/46. I was fine.
I turned on my attunement, just for a moment.
Everything glowed.
I’d almost forgotten that virtually this whole place was some kind of magical construct or illusion. After a blinding moment, I shook my head and focused, filtering out the ambient glow to focus on the things with significance.
The crown glowed brighter — and so did a spot on the rear wall, to the left side of the throne. A false wall, maybe?
The floor directly in front of the throne was also glowing. A trap, perhaps, or a passage into another room.
I spotted three glowing objects within the vines. All the way in the back right corner, a huge greatsword was propped up against the wall. It was about as far from the entrance as it was possible to get.
Toward the middle of the room on the left side, something small was glowing on the floor. A key, if I had to guess.
Another glowing object was just inside the door, sitting on the floor just inside a layer of vines. I couldn’t quite make it out, but it was roughly dagger sized.
I turned off my attunement, turned back to Sera, and relayed my findings.
I checked my mana again. 45/46.
I need to stop being so obsessive about checking my mental mana. I’m not in any danger using it a few minutes here or there.
I told myself that routinely, but it didn’t help.
Sera raised a hand to brush a stray hair out of her vision. “Okay, that’s actually pretty good to know, because we’re going to have to make some choices. As soon as you step in there, the vines start moving in. They grow an inch or so every time you take a step. I bet it’s designed so we can’t get everything before the room fills up with vines.”
I folded my arms. “How much did you test that already?”
“Don’t look so irritated. We only took a couple steps in there. They didn’t reset after we left the room, but they haven’t grown any further, either.”
I scratched my chin. “You try setting the vines on fire?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. We had a feeling attacking the vines might make them get worse, but it’s probably going to be necessary if we want to get those items you noticed.”
“Do we actually want those things? They could all be traps. Classic temptation strategy. The real reward is the crown right in front of us, but if we step off the trail, we get eaten.”
She shrugged. “Problem is, we don’t exactly have a label on the room to tell us the intent. It could be a virtue test like you’re describing, or it could be a test to see if we’re easily distracted by the obvious solution and miss the thing we really need — the key. Or the glowing wall.”
“Why’d you try to get Mara?”
Sera waved toward the throne. “The vines grow when they detect a step, as far as we could tell. A Guardian like Marissa could jump half way across the room and it’d probably only count as one step.”
I scratched my chin. “Not a bad idea. Can we do something similar with just the two of us?”
Sera winced. “I thought about summoning my karvensi and having him fly across the room, but I’ve been trying to hold off on summoning anything in here. Both because I don’t know how they’d react to a fake tower and because I want to conserve my mana.”
I didn’t know much about summoned monster behavior, but that sounded like a reasonable concern. Still, we didn’t have a lot of good options available. “I think we should try it. I don’t have a better solution, unless you want me to try to blast you across the room with my gauntlet.”
“Funny, but no. All right, I’ll take a shot at this.”
Sera took a deep breath, glancing from side-to-side.
“Karvensi, I summon you.”
The karvensi appeared at her side. It was a little startling — when I was younger, I’d always expected summoning to have some kind of flashy special effect like a puff of smoke or a column of fire. Nothing like that happened — one moment the space next to her was empty, the next moment…bam, karvensi.
And he looked bemused.
“You again?” The winged figure crossed his rather formidable arms, glancing around. “And what is this? It looks like the Serpent Spire, only assembled by a child.”
“You’re not far off.” Sera smirked. “This is an academic test, designed to look similar to the tower. We’re trying to get through as many rooms as possible. We have very little information.” She pointed into the room with the throne. “Those vines grow when we step inside, so I figured a flying creature like yourself might be able to retrieve the things we need without triggering it.”
“I don’t feel like it.” The karvensi turned his nose upward.
Sera and I both gawked at him.
I glanced at Sera. “Are summoned monsters supposed to…do that?”
She shook her head vehemently. “Uh, I don’t think so?”
The karvensi sighed. “So rude. I’m right here you know.”
Sera wiped her forehead. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
I extended a hand toward the karvensi. “I’m Corin Cadence. We haven’t met, but I watched your work in that arena. Really quite impressive.”
The karvensi turned his head, glancing me up and down before focusing on my outstretched hand. “…really.”
I grinned. “Really! We could use someone with your skills to help with this test — and not just with the flying. I’m pretty sure some of the spells you cast in there were stronger than anything I could do on my own.”
Sera gave me an inquisitive look, and then turned back to the karvensi. “Will you help us?”
He turned toward her. “You, miss, were quite rude to bind me without a discussion. But, given that I’m aware that you were mid-battle and clearly out of your depth, I’m willing to put that aside — provided you’re willing to negotiate a real contract.”
She narrowed her eyes. “…can you even do that? You do know that you’re a temporary copy, right?”
The karvensi laughed. “Far better than you, child. It’s somewhat disconcerting to know that my lifespan is limited by your whim — and your available mana —and not feel any fear about it. I know I should have self-preservation instincts, but for some reason, I feel the urge to protect you instead. An element of the binding spell, of course, I have no real attachment to you.”
Lifting a hand, the karvensi looked upward, taking a breath. “There is not, however, any part of your spell that prevents me from thinking about my true self’s interests. You could compel me to take an action against my will. It is already an effort to resist your suggestion of what I could do to help you. But, if you’d rather make an ally than compel a duplicate, I may be willing to offer you a more permanent arrangement…Sera Cadence.”
Sera folded her arms. “And how would you know my name?”
“When another version of me was summoned to fight you, Miss Theas told me a bit about both you and your partner. I retain those memories, as well as the memories from the previous instance in which you summoned me. I will continue to accumulate memories when you summon me again, but your version of me is now distinct from the version contracted with Miss Theas, and thus I will not gain any memories from her subsequent summonings.”
I pointed at the room. “Okay, this is fascinating — really, it is — but we have a limited amount of time on this test. Can we discuss the summoning theory in more detail later?”
Sera raised a hand to silence me. “This is important, Corin. If I’m going to make a contract, that’s going to affect me long-term. You may want to go in there and start working on that room while the karvensi and I discuss.” She frowned, turning her head upward toward the karvensi’s. “Do you have a name?”
“Ah, you finally asked.” The karvensi looked down, meeting her gaze. “You may refer to me as Vanniv.” He folded an arm across his bare chest and made a formal bow, nearly smacking me with a wing in the process.
“A pleasure to formally meet you, Vanniv. Now, please tell me why your true self would benefit from me making an arrangement with a copy?”
“Ah, an excellent question. A mere copy could not normally negotiate on behalf of their true self — but I am a sorcerer, you see. And if we make a contract, I am quite capable of extending that contract back to the real Vanniv. You would then feed mana to him continuously. I’m sure you understand the process. In exchange, you would gain access to my true self’s more formidable abilities…and, of course, long-term access to this personalized copy.”
Sera ran a hand through her hair. “For someone without an instinct for self-preservation, that sounds remarkably like a plan from someone who doesn’t want to die.”
The karvensi grinned. “I said I didn’t have the urge to survive. Intellectually, however? I can still act on the knowledge of what I know I should want.”
I wasn’t kidding when I had said this was fascinating information, but it also wasn’t getting us any closer to finishing the test, and minutes had already past while they negotiated. If I had to guess, it would take at least a few more to come to specific terms. I didn’t know a lot about Summoners, but I did know that they had to negotiate how much mana they’d be feeding their summoned entities, the length of the contract, and some other details.
So, I was on my own for a bit.
I took a step closer to the throne room.
I needed to make some decisions.
My goal was to minimize the number of times I made contact with the ground, assuming that was how the room decided how much the vines should be growing.
Can I climb on the vines?
I stood at the doorway and looked at them. The vines varied in size and thickness, but they all glistened as if wet. That’d make gripping difficult, so that route was probably out.
Running jumps, maybe?
I dismissed that quickly. I’d have to take several steps each time to get a running start. Even if I could jump over small sections, it wouldn’t be efficient.
Blast myself off the ground with the gauntlet’s transference bursts?
No, that’s a terrible idea. I’d just hurt myself.
I didn’t have a great solution. We did still have a return bell, so one of us could have tried to switch back out with Jin — but if he had a great idea, he probably would have used it already.
Does the room only react when a person touches the floor?
What about items?
That was an easy enough test. I fished a copper coin out of my bag and flipped it onto the floor of the room.
No reaction from the vines.
Okay, now I’m getting somewhere.
Can I make something to stand on?
I considered throwing the box and using that as a platform to jump on, but just one platform wouldn’t get me very far.
The cage that was around the fountain, maybe?
I walked over to the fountain, stepped onto the side, carefully avoiding splashes of the acid. I sheathed my sword. From there, I hopped onto the side of the cage and started to climb.
“What are you doing?” Sera had turned toward me to stare.
“Was going to cut this thing down and try to roll it into the next room. The floor doesn’t seem to react to inanimate objects.”
“Will that even fit through the doorway?”
I glanced at the doorway, then back to the cage, measuring with my eyes.
“…probably not.”
I hopped back down, narrowly avoiding falling in the fountain. When I stumbled, I tried to make it look intentional. “Uh, so, are you two done?”
“No, but this is embarrassing. Vanniv, we’ve got a time limit. Can we please finish this discussion later if I promise to re-summon you to conclude our talk soon?”
Vanniv scratched his chin. “Within the day.”
“Agreed.” Sera extended a hand, and Vanniv clasped it at the wrist. “Now, please assist us with handling this test?”
“It does look rather amusing. I do not believe I can carry you both while in flight, if that was what you had in mind.”
“Can you carry just one of us?”
“For a short distance. My wings are not meant to bear a large burden.”
Sera pointed at me. “Take him inside. You can put him down next to the throne.”
Oh, of course I have to be the one going into the trap.
Vanniv picked me up like he was cradling a child. Given our difference in size, I suppose it wasn’t that surprising, but it was still a little embarrassing.
I felt surprisingly little when his wings beat and carried us over the floor. No rush of wind. We were indoors, after all. His stone muscles — were they literally stone? — barely seemed to twitch in response.
Once we were hovering, he floated us into the room. The vines didn’t seem to respond, which was good. We’d only hypothesized about the floor triggering them.
He was breathing heavily by the time he set me down next to the throne. The vines noticeably twitched and pushed in further when my feet hit the floor.
“So, how’s this work? You take the crown and you win?”
I frowned. “We’re not actually sure what the objective of the room is. The crown is the obvious prize, but I’m guessing what we really want is something hidden in the vines, like that shiny thing over by the door.”
I pointed at the small object that I’d seen from the doorway.
“If this is anything like the tower, there are probably multiple things you’d want in here. Or nothing.”
“Well, we’re probably timed, so I’m going to see if this does anything.”
I grabbed the crown.
The door to the room slammed shut.
I caught a flash of gold out of the corner of my eye. In a rare display of competence, I kicked myself backward off the throne and onto the floor, pushing myself out of the way of the projectile.
As I pushed myself off the floor, I realized what had nearly hit me — the golden greatsword that had been hiding in the vines in the back corner.
And, as I rose and turned toward where the sword had flown, I saw a new figure.
Nine feet tall, clad in armor of golden leaves. His face was covered by a steel mask that instantly reminded me of Keras, but this one covered every inch of skin.
He held the greatsword in a single hand, while the other arm pointed toward me in accusation.
“You have my crown.”
His voice had force. It reminded me of the pressure I’d felt in the air when I’d encountered Katashi. My knees wanted to buckle, but I held steady.
Vanniv was still hovering above me. “Huh. He looks sort of dangerous.”
I lifted the crown — I’d managed to hold onto it when I’d dodged the sword. “I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be a representation of the Tyrant in Gold.”
The armored figure tilted his head downward, his eyes burning. And by that, I mean his eyes were literally fire.
“You insult me. I am no mere ‘representation’. The crown is mine.”
I flinched, considering as I turned my gaze to meet the titanic king. “I meant no offense, great one. If the crown belongs to you, I will gladly return it.”
I didn’t think the scenario would support something that easy, but hey, why not try?
“You are wise to acknowledge my greatness. Return the crown and I will make your end painless.”
Ah, yeah, not going to go that route.
“That’s a very friendly offer, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline.”
A moment of turning my attunement on — and then back off — showed me that both the crown and the Tyrant glowed brightly with magic.
I set the crown on my head, hoping for a surge of power.
Predictably, nothing happened.
“Insolent fool. My patience is at an end.”
The Tyrant gestured with his free hand and the vines surged inward toward me.
I ducked, picking up my fallen sword, and lashed out at the closest vines. The blade cut true, severing tendrils in a splatter of ichor, but the vines were far too numerous.
“Vanniv, burn the vines!”
Then they were all around me, wrapping around my limbs and throat. My barrier didn’t trigger to stop them from making contact. They weren’t moving fast enough or applying enough force for it to register them. Not yet, at least.
Vanniv looked down at me, raising a single gray eyebrow. “You want me to set them on fire while in them?”
“Just a little fire to clear them!”
Vanniv laughed. “I don’t do little, kid.”
He stretched out a hand just as I felt the tendrils begin to tighten.
My vision turned white — and not because of the pressure.
When my eyes cleared, there was a perfectly circular gap in the vines around me, maybe ten feet in diameter. Charred remains littered the floor, but I hadn’t felt a degree of heat.
That was… impressive. Not the intensity of the attack. I’d seen plenty of powerful fire spells. The degree of control necessary to make the flames exclude me.
The vines that had wrapped around my body were still there — a foot or two of plant connected to each limb and around my throat — but they were disconnected from the main body now and had ceased to move. I brushed them away in disgust, turning back to the Tyrant.
“Okay, that was pretty good,” I admitted. “You want to light him up next?”
“With pleasure.” Vanniv pointed a hand at the Tyrant. I saw the effect more clearly this time. A bead of flame manifested in the air right in front of the Tyrant, then flickered as it detonated into an incendiary sphere.
I should have known better than to hope it would be that easy.
When the smoke cleared, the Tyrant was unsinged.
An echoing laugh emanated from the armored figure. “Your magic is weak. Your resistance irrelevant.”
Vanniv balled his hands into fists. “Weak? You haven’t seen a fraction of what I can do.”
The Tyrant began to walk forward with a deliberate slowness. He was maybe twenty feet away. It wouldn’t take him long to close the distance even at a slow pace.
Okay, what was I missing here? How did people handle the Tyrant in Gold in legends?
My family had never been particularly devout, but the Tyrant was a central aspect of our culture. Everyone knew about him. He’d conquered nearly the entire world outside of Kaldwyn. He was the only entity in the world with enough power to rival the goddess herself.
And, thinking back to the stories of heroes opposing the Tyrant, they all ended one way—
—the heroes died.
It was possible that trying to beat this guy in a straight fight was unwise.
The problem?
I didn’t have any better ideas. I didn’t have a bell on me. When I’d used it before, it’d been left behind in the other half of the dungeon. Presumably, the others would have picked up the one that I used, and Sera had the one that Jin had used.
And, unfortunately, Sera was on the other side of a sealed door.
“Vanniv, you got anything bigger you can hit him with?”
The karvensi grinned. “Of course! Buy me a few moments, would you?”
That I could do.
I raised my sword in a salute.
The Tyrant paused…then mirrored my gesture.
Huh.
Maybe there was something there. Was he going to fight honorably?
I mean, enshrouding a guy in plants wasn’t exactly the traditional definition of honorable, but maybe there was a way I could take advantage if he was going to be bound to some kind of rules.
I’d have to keep that in mind. But, for the moment, I charged.
I hadn’t had a good sword fight in ages.
The Tyrant brought his sword down in a heavy slash. I side-stepped, allowing the greatsword to crash into the floor. It sliced carpet and into the floor beneath.
A quick thrust from me. He stepped backward faster than I’d expected, avoiding the strike, while dislodging the greatsword from the floor.
The room was getting darker, but I couldn’t pay attention to that. The greatsword whistled sideways, threatening to bisect me. I met it with a parry, which was a mistake.
The impact force was staggering. I flew backward, plants deliberately parting around me, and slammed into the nearest stone wall.
My barrier kicked in on that impact, but even the more advanced sigil I’d made wasn’t good at softening kinetic force. I felt a moment of bone-shuddering pain as I cracked into the wall and fell to my knees.
The Tyrant turned to where I’d fallen and walked toward me at a leisurely pace. He was only steps away from melee reach.
I lashed upward from my kneeling position pushed on the sword’s aura with transference mana from my hand. A crescent wave of kinetic energy leapt out of the weapon, ripping through the air.
The Tyrant met it with a swing of his own. For an instant, a sphere of force manifested in the air, and the Tyrant fell back a single step.
Not bad.
I braced myself, using the saber to push myself to my feet — a terrible idea, and a great way to ruin a sword — and allowed myself a grin.
I may have celebrated a little too soon.
The Tyrant gripped his sword with both hands, raising it above his head — and copied my technique.
And even at a glance, I could tell the wave of cutting force that he’d sent toward me was vastly more powerful than my own.
I didn’t have a lot of room to move. The plants had cleared to let me hit the wall (thanks for that, plants), but they were still close enough to impede my ability to dodge.
So, I countered with something more experimental. I activated my demi-gauntlet’s transference burst, but as the energy tried to leave the gauntlet, I grabbed it with my mind and tried to channel it into my sword. If I could combine the sword’s mana with the gauntlet’s, maybe…
My gauntlet’s blast slipped free, careening uselessly into the ceiling.
The Tyrant’s slash caught me dead-on.
I heard a solid crack as the impact drove me back into the wall. My barrier had activated; I could see it flickering in front of me, a huge crack across the surface nearly the entire length of my body. From its fluttering, I could see that it had barely held against the strike.
I wondered if it would have killed me — actually killed me — if I hadn’t built myself a stronger barrier.
That was not a happy thought.
And I was tired of getting kicked around by a simulation.
I pushed off the wall, gritting my teeth as I made a diagonal slash and pushed the mana at the Tyrant.
He moved to block, of course.
I rushed forward in the attack’s wake, moving my off-hand.
As he deflected my first attack, I threw the crown.
And, as I expected, he turned his head to follow.
Three quick thrusts, each aimed at vulnerable points in his armor.
All three hit.
None had any effect.
There was no visible barrier, no sign of any magic, but I was hitting something harder than stone or steel.
But I didn’t stop.
He turned back to me belatedly, swinging his sword in a lazy arc that forced me to take a step back. I raised my gauntlet and sent a burst of gray mana directly into his face.
That staggered him, but only for a second. He swept horizontally and I knew I couldn’t parry it again. My barrier wouldn’t take another impact with a wall.
I blasted his sword with the gauntlet’s transference function, arresting the blade’s momentum just long enough for me to step back. Then, once out of range, I blasted him with gray mana again.
A single chip fell away from his mask.
“I tire of this foolishness.”
I smirked. “I’m just getting warmed up.”
Ah, the most traditional of all boasts. Not exactly creative, but it was a classic. Much like stories of heroes being killed by the Tyrant.
Maybe that wasn’t the best line of thought for my current situation, though.
I raised my sword in another salute. I was getting used to his reach, and my hand was barely tingling from the use of the demi-gauntlet. Months of practice had bolstered my hand’s mana to the point where I could use it over a dozen times without much difficulty.
If he isn’t invincible, and he is predictable, I can beat him.
That was when he kicked me in the chest.
I flew backward. It didn’t carry the same impact as one of his sword swings, but it did surprise me — to the extent that I dropped my weapon.
I ducked his follow-through swing, purely on instinct.
Disarmed, I rushed closer and threw myself at him, punching him with a burst of mana. He didn’t flinch at the impact. Instead, he released a hand from his greatsword to grab at my arm.
I pulled my arm back quickly enough, but that didn’t stop him from responding with a swing of his own. The punch hit me dead in the face and my vision swam.
I hit the floor, feeling something wet on my face. Had he broken my nose?
I rolled to the side, heading toward my fallen saber. I did manage to avoid a swing that way, but only as a consequence of the movement, not anything deliberate.
The Tyrant got to my sword first, kicking it further away.
I looked up at him, wiping my face with my left hand. Yep, real blood.
He raised his sword to strike — and a bolt of lightning slammed into his chest.
Oh, so that’s where the darkness was coming from.
The ceiling of the room was covered in clouds.
The Tyrant shivered as the electricity flowed through him. The next bolt struck only a moment later, then the next.
It might have been my imagination, but they seemed to be hitting a lot faster than what I’d seen Vanniv using when he’d fought against Sera and Derek.
“Enough!”
A green sphere of mana appeared around the Tyrant, blocking the next bolt. A tiny crack appeared at the impact point, but I knew barriers enough to know the damage was inconsequential.
How much mana did this thing have?
The Tyrant moved, faster than I’d thought him capable of, rushing toward Vanniv.
I wasn’t idle. I crawled — yes, crawled — toward my fallen weapon, picking it up with trembling hands.
As the Tyrant approached Vanniv, I felt the ground begin to tremble.
The Tyrant raised his blade, a golden glow manifesting along the surface of the weapon as the floor of the chamber began to crack. More and more bolts of lightning poured into the green shield, but even their accumulated damage barely made a dent.
Vanniv pushed out both hands, sending a wave of frost at the Tyrant, but the Tyrant cut right through the energy with an upward swing and then leapt into the air, his blade poised for a deadly thrust.
Vanniv pushed his hands outward, surrounding himself with an aura of electricity, bracing for the strike —
—but it never came.
The Tyrant, the throne, the vines — everything around us vanished.
And the room continued to shake.
Even the carpet disappeared. We were alone in a chamber of white stone, completely bare, as the tremors continued.
“Students, be advised that this test has been prematurely terminated. You will be returned to the briefing room shortly.”
It was Professor Orden’s voice, unmistakable as the real blood on my hand.
A moment later, Orden appeared at my side.
“Take my hand.”
I sheathed my weapon, following her instructions. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain when you’re all together. Brace yourself.”
“Spirits of wind and air, carry us beyond this place. Teleport!”
I closed my eyes. When I reopened them, I was back in the briefing room. My stomach still swam from the short-distance teleport, but it was nowhere near as bad as what I’d experienced when Orden had cast that bigger teleport spell that took me to her…safe house? Or whatever that place was.
She released my hand and disappeared again. I saw Jin and Marissa already sitting on one of the couches, looking concerned.
Marissa stood as soon as she saw me. “Corin, you’re bleeding.”
I nodded. “Took a Tyrant punch to the face.”
Jin frowned. “Harm should not be possible in the simulation.”
I’d assumed that, too. “I think we have bigger problems to worry about.”
Another tremor, as if to punctuate my words.
I’d never experienced a normal earthquake. Both my home city of Hathridge and Beaufort, the city that housed Lorian Heights, were protected by environment-controlling magic. The vast domes over the cities were the most obvious indication, but the magic stretched deep into the earth, too.
So, if we were suffering from an earthquake, that meant we were dealing with something seriously bad.
When Orden reappeared next, she had Sera with her. She grabbed Patrick on the next trip… then Vanniv after that.
I was a little surprised the summoned karvensi was still around after Sera had been teleported, but hey, I wasn’t complaining.
“This is a very unusual test,” Vanniv noted.
With our group gathered, Orden turned to Sera. “You may want to dismiss your friend.”
Sera folded her arms. “Why? What’s happening?”
Orden folded her hands in front of her. “The city is under attack.”
Chapter XVII — Assault
Sera was, as usual, the quickest. “By who?”
Orden glanced toward Sera. “Monsters from the tower. I don’t know numbers yet.”
“Oh, goddess.” Patrick took a step back, hugging himself. “Is anyone hurt?”
The professor turned toward Patrick. “It’s an attack on the city; of course people are being hurt. Pull yourself together, Mister Wayland. You’re supposed to be an attuned. Act like one. Panicking will not save any lives.”
Patrick nodded, but he was still shaking. “Yes…of course, professor.”
I walked over and nudged him on the shoulder. My hands were trembling, too, but being next to each other seemed to help us both.
Sera folded her arms. “What type of threats are we looking at?”
“A broad variety of monsters, including a swarm of karvensi.” Orden turned her head toward Vanniv, narrowing her eyes.
Vanniv put a hand over his chest. “I don’t know what you’re implying, madam professor, but I have a strict ‘no attacking cities’ policy.”
“As humorous as that might be, your true self could be up there, and we can’t have you carrying information back to him.”
The stone figure stretched his wings. “Fine, fine. I understand. But Sera, we still have a deal.”
She nodded. “We do. And if you are willing to help against other karvensi, I may have a need for you again soon.”
“That would be no problem. It would be no worse than humans killing other humans, after all.”
His nonchalance at that particular idea chilled me more than I could put into words.
Sera waved a hand at Vanniv. “Very well, then. Karvensi — or, rather, Vanniv — I dismiss you.”
A glowing circle of runes appeared around Vanniv and he bowed at the waist as he vanished.
Orden turned back to the group. “Good. With that threat addressed, you should all head to the shelters immediately.”
Ugh. I did not want to go to those again, especially not after how useless they felt last time.
Marissa spoke up before I had a chance. “Beggin’ your pardon, Professor, but I’d rather be fightin’ then buried in one of those tombs.”
A little more direct than I’d have put it, but it echoed my fears about the stability of the shelters pretty well.
Patrick turned his head toward Marissa. “Uh, Mara, are you sure that’s a good idea? I know you’re stronger than the rest of us, but…”
Marissa raised a hand to scratch the back of her head. “S’not that, Patrick. I’d just rather get stabbed than crushed to death. ‘sides, better to have Orden next to us than try to run on our own, yeah?”
Patrick paled a little.
Orden chuckled. “You seem to have a misconception, Marissa. I’m not going to be going anywhere near that fight. Being a teacher does not make me equipped for battle with monsters, nor would I be in any condition to fight even if I was properly trained for it. Who do you think has been making illusions and constructs for you to fight for the last hour?”
I folded my arms. “If you made that Tyrant punch me in the nose, you owe me a clean uniform.”
The professor turned to me, grimacing upon taking in my face. “I…may have calibrated that construct a bit too strong. It was necessary to give him a degree of solidity to — never mind. It’s not important. I’m afraid I’ve already sent the Menders away to the shelter, but I could teleport you to one?”
I shook my head. “No. This is irritating,” I could hear a wheeze in my voice, “But I’m with the Marissa. I want to fight.”
Patrick turned and stared at me for a moment, then tightened his jaw.
The door to the room swung open, and Professor Teft was standing in the doorway. “Lyras, I need you now.”
Orden swung a glance in his direction, sighing. “If you insist, dear.”
Dear?
Professor Orden turned back to us. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, furrowing her brow. “Hrm.”
Teft folded his arms. “I don’t like that expression.”
“Oh, hush, Jonathan. The adults are thinking.”
Teft glowered at her. “Commander Bennet is waiting for us.”
Orden’s lips twitched into a harsh curve. “Let Jack wait. I need to properly direct the children.” She snapped her fingers. “Corin. When the monsters were scouting last time they were here, did any of them see you?”
I nodded. “At least one of them looked right at me.”
“Good. Then you’re not the target, which narrows the options somewhat. Jonathan, has anyone determined who is commanding the monsters yet?”
“Yes, but I’m really not sure we should be discussing this—”
“Humor me.”
He folded his arms. “Word is that Katashi has been sighted just outside the tower. He’s not attacking — thank the goddess — but if he’s present, it’s safe to assume he’s controlling the creatures that are.”
I admit I might have taken a step back when I heard the name “Katashi”. I hoped no one noticed.
Jin was looking at me strangely, though, so I’m pretty sure he saw something.
Orden steepled her fingers. “Perfect. I’m going to send you and Corin to talk to him.”
Teft blinked. “…excuse me?”
I almost laughed. I’d never seen someone manage to catch Teft off guard like that before. He actually stammered.
Orden took a step toward me, releasing a hand to gesture for me to approach. “Come now, Corin. Time to address some past mistakes.”
I sighed. “Will you be coming along with us?”
“Of course not. As I said, I’m not much of a fighter, and it’ll be dangerous out there. I’ll be going to talk to the vice chancellor, where undoubtedly he’ll make efficient use of my abilities by having me wrangle more children into our lovely shelters.”
I folded my arms. “Not exactly a fighter myself, Professor.”
“Oh, you have a sword, you’ll be fine. Besides, you’re going to go talk. Fighting shouldn’t be necessary.”
I refrained from pointing out the contradictions in her argument; she was obviously already aware of them. I didn’t know precisely what she was plotting, though. Was this another one of her little tests to see how I’d behave?
I didn’t think so.
Teft shook his head. “What are you about, Lyras? Why would Corin have anything to do with Katashi?”
Orden rolled her eyes. “Corin met Katashi during his Judgment, darling, and walked out with his memories intact. He also managed to break three people out of a prison inside the tower. Do try to keep up.”
Teft shot a glance at me, and I could sense the entire rest of the group turning to look at me. “Is this true?”
Ugh. This was not the right time to be telling people about this.
“That’s a truncated version, but yes. One of my test rooms was a prison, and I opted to let people out of it. Turns out it might not have been strictly a normal part of the test. I’m still not certain what exactly happened.”
Sera tilted her head to the side. “Tristan?”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t him. I would have told you if it was.”
She frowned, but gave me the slightest nod. “We’ll need to talk about this later.”
Orden stepped closer to me. “Right. Later is fine. For the moment, time is of the essence. If Katashi isn’t looking for Corin here, he’s almost certainly looking for one of the people that Corin helped escape. Seeing as Katashi did let Corin leave the tower alive, I don’t believe he’ll be hostile, and if Corin offers to cooperate, we might be able to minimize the damage to the school.”
I wasn’t sure I agreed with her logic. Katashi had been pretty distracted by Keras when I escaped. The fact that he hadn’t sent anyone to eliminate me up to this point just implied that I was a low priority, at least in my mind.
I didn’t want to argue her point, though, because I did want to go. Both to protect the city and because a chance to talk to Katashi might give me some real answers. I needed those answers.
I wasn’t going to let a little thing like the possibility of annihilation stop me.
Marissa stepped up next to me. “I’m comin’ along, unless you mind. Rather be out there in the open to lend Corin a hand if he gets into trouble.”
“I’m going to send them directly to the tower — but fine, if you insist. Any other children feel the need to keep Corin safe from nothing at all?”
Sera stepped over and nodded to me. “I’m going, of course.”
Patrick’s hands tightened his hands into fists. “Fine. I still think this is insane, but I’m not letting the rest of you go without me.”
A few moments passed.
Jin didn’t join us.
He was still silently watching from the back of the group, his jaw tight, eyes narrowed.
I felt a surge of relief that I wasn’t going to be going out there alone, even with my disappointment that Jin — the first person who had stepped in to rescue me in something resembling a real fight — wasn’t going to help me this time.
I hoped it wouldn’t matter.
Orden glanced at Teft. “Anything else you want to share before I teleport you?”
“For now, the fighting appears to be constrained to the area directly surrounding the tower. The Soaring Wings are doing their best to keep the combat contained to that region, but karvensi and gargoyles are emerging from the top of the tower and flying toward the academy. Katashi was sighted on the eastern side, near one of the Climber Gates.”
I wondered how he’d picked up that much information. The earthquakes had only occurred minutes ago. It was probable that the attacks had started sometime before the earthquake, but he still seemed very well-informed about something that was happening a solid mile away. Did he have some kind of communication spell? If so, I needed to learn it, and as soon as possible. That kind of thing would be invaluable both in our tests and in real threats like this one.
“Eastern gate it is, then. Children, if you’re coming, join hands.” She extended a hand to me, and another to Teft. I took one, and extended another to Patrick.
The linking hands continued until Jin was the only one left outside — and finally, with the utmost hesitation, he stepped in.
I breathed an audible sigh of relief.
We’ll be safe if we’re all together.
And Orden spoke.
“Spirit of wind and air, I command you!
By the pact sealed between us, I invoke your power.
Rise around us and within us;
Carry us upon your ethereal wings to the place of greatest safety.
Veiled Teleport!”
* * *
My head swam, my vision blurred, and something slammed into my knees.
When I regained my focus, I realized that something was the dirt — I’d lost my balance and fallen right after the teleport. I was blearily aware of people around me, but my hands were no longer linked with anyone.
I wretched, a combination of bile and blood. Fortunately, the others managed to get out of the way before I doused anyone’s shoes.
“Oh, for the goddess’ sake, Lyras. Just how hard did your construct hit him?”
Teft’s voice, probably. I couldn’t really process anything.
“I didn’t think… never mind. Corin, stop vomiting.”
I turned my head in her direction, my best “Are you reshing kidding me” expression on my face.
She sighed, offering me a handkerchief. “Wipe yourself off, then I’ll give you something for the pain.”
I took the cloth, wiping off my face, and then spitting some of the remaining acidic fluid in my mouth into it. With that done, I discarded it onto the ground. She could pick the thing up if she wanted it.
My head felt like it was in a vice, like I’d gone too far underwater and my ears were popping from the pressure.
“We don’t have time for this.” I felt Orden grab my left hand, slipping something onto my pointer finger. “Channel a bit of your mana into that.”
That was easy enough. I sent a pulse of gray into the ring. The ring warmed in response, but not to the point of burning. That warmth spread across my arm, flowing throughout the rest of my body.
“What’s wrong with him?” Sera’s voice.
Teft responded. “Teleporting someone with a head injury is a dangerous prospect at best. Someone should have known better.”
“The ring will take care of him.” Orden again. I couldn’t see her clearly, yet, but the warmth had spread all the way to my neck, and I was starting to feel a tingling sensation on my back.
By the time I felt the warmth spreading across my face, I was starting to feel a little bit better. “Healing magic?” I murmured.
“Regenerative. It’s not as fast as a direct healing spell, but it also doesn’t require the same degree of precision to get it right. Direct healing spells are almost never used in items, since they can end up causing permanent harm. Regeneration, however, is quite safe.”
Ah, Orden. Always lecturing.
“I’m keeping this.” I managed. “In exchange for my best nose.”
I heard a few laughs around me, which was good.
Orden didn’t join in the levity, but she did respond. “Your humor seems intact at least. Good. Not a useful tool with Katashi, but it implies you’re awake enough to talk. With that, I should be going. You can borrow the ring until you’re recovered.”
“I’m sitting down now.”
I sat, only then noticing the ring of concerned eyes around me.
And, much more worryingly, the vast number of winged figures in the naked sky above us.
And by naked, I mean that there was no environmental shield.
None.
I’d never seen the sky without a shield occluding it. It hadn’t been disabled during my lifetime.
Without it, we were vulnerable. Not just to rain and snow, but to a far more terrifying prospect.
Invasion.
Keeping the elements off of us was the practical application of the barrier, but it served a more important function on the international scale. It blocked a vast variety of foreign spells from getting into the city. Scrying, teleportation, artillery spells — it was an effective tool against both reconnaissance and direct attacks.
And it was gone.
I didn’t even know how that was possible. Was it temporary?
My head had already been swimming before the implications of that lack began to dive into the murky pool.
I was so distracted that I didn’t even notice Orden teleport herself out of the area, leaving the rest of us behind.
Patrick offered me a hand, but I shook my head. “Not just yet.”
At least his hand had stopped shaking. Now that we were here, he looked calmer than I felt.
My retainer frowned. “We’re going to need to move soon. We’ve got company on the way.”
I glanced around, taking in my direct surroundings for the first time since the teleport. My friends were standing in a defensive ring around me, facing outward, along with Teft. And Teft. And another Teft.
Simulacra. I really wished I could do that.
Outside of our protective circle? Chaos.
The tower itself loomed above us, a few hundred yards away. Hundreds — maybe thousands — of flying creatures were swarming around the upper levels, flying in a circular pattern.
The nearest buildings had belonged to the Soaring Wings, the loyal guardians that kept us safe from the rare cases of monsters getting out of the tower. Their headquarters had been smashed to bits.
Mizuchi, the Hero’s End, rose triumphant above the rubble of the largest structure. Her towering mass was unharmed by the dozens of armored attuned that still stood around her, barraging her with a flurry of attacks. Her serpentine body was even larger than I’d realized when I’d seen her in the skies above. It only took a flick of her tail to demolish a nearby tower.
For every one of the Soaring Wings that still stood, I could see three or four more that didn’t. They were bloodied and broken among the rubble, the latest victims of a beast of legend.
They’re dead. Those soldiers are dead.
I shivered. This is insane! We could be next.
How’d I let Orden talk us into this?
As I watched, she reared up, drawing in a deep breath as members of the Wings scattered apart. I could hear a loud hum as blue sparks spread across her body, a glimmering aura coalescing in her mouth.
A blue dome appeared around us. One of Teft’s bodies was kneeling, maintaining some kind of defensive spell.
Mizuchi exhaled.
A voltaic charge of impossible brightness tore free from her mouth, ripping through stone and dirt and leaving a charred and smoking trail where it passed.
The line of lightning grew in intensity, brighter and brighter, until a burning shockwave flashed across the area and forced my eyes shut. I felt the impact against our shield; heard the cracks spreading across the surface the moment before the barrier completely failed.
When my eyes opened, I saw the two other versions of Teft kneeling along with the first, their eyes closed in concentration. They’d formed two more barriers and only the last of them was still intact.
We’d been hundreds of meters away from the epicenter of that blast, barely even in sight of the people on the ground — and it still probably would have killed us outright if Teft hadn’t intervened.
And all three versions of him were sweating with exhaustion.
“We need to move,” Patrick said again.
I nodded and stood. Teft’s last barrier fell, his two copies vanishing. Their mana had run dry.
Marissa and Jin helped a still-shaken Teft to his feet while Patrick led the way.
It wasn’t hard to see our destination, now that I was looking.
Katashi floated just in front of the tower, his brilliant aura of azure extending so far that I had no difficulty locating him in spite of his physical form being dwarfed by the tower’s size.
Fortunately, he was hovering just in front of the gate; he hadn’t taken to high in the skies like many of the gargoyles and karvensi had.
Less fortunately? There were dozens of land-bound monsters between us and him.
I counted about twenty barghensi, a handful of humanoid-sized spiders, and a single orange-auraed minotaur.
Is that a Sunstone aura? I’m not sure we can handle that.
“Got a spire guardian over there,” Patrick pointed out just as my mind processed it.
“I’ll…” Teft coughed and stumbled, falling to a single knee. Jin hurriedly hauled him back to his feet.
“Nonsense,” Jin replied. “You have done enough, Professor. Rest and recover. You will do us a greater service later in this way.”
Teft gave a weak nod.
We continued approaching the horde of monsters without a plan.
When they were about a hundred yards out, I turned to Sera. “Do you think they could tell the difference between Vanniv and one of the karvensi in the sky?”
“No, but if you’re thinking he could talk us through, it probably won’t work. They’re probably not smart enough to understand.”
I nodded. “Got enough strength for whatever your mystery summon is yet?”
She clenched her hands in the air. “I don’t think so. Maybe. But I don’t know if that would be the wisest idea here, even if I could manage it.”
The barghensi started moving forward to intercept us, the spiders right behind them. The minotaur remained near the tower, only a dozen yards in front of Katashi.
We had a bigger problem, though.
Those hundreds of flying creatures above us had stopped circling and they were forming up on our side of the tower.
“Oh, that’s bad,” Patrick mumbled, pointing up.
“No more time for debate.” Sera folded her hands in front of her. “Vanniv, I summon you!”
Vanniv flickered into existence at her side, his eyes widening as he took in the horde in front of us. “Oh, what is this nonsense now?”
Sera pointed up. “They look like they’re about to dive. Does that sound right to you?”
Vanniv nodded. “Yep. You’re pretty much doomed, sad to say. I would mourn you, but you know, I won’t exist—”
Sera poked a finger into his chest. “No time for banter. Go tell them we’re friends?”
He rolled his eyes. “There’s always time for banter, little Cadence, but don’t fret. I will, of course, come to your rescue.”
Vanniv took off at once, flying toward the disconcertingly massive swarm of flying monsters.
Which just left us with the ones on the ground, now nearly close enough to strike.
Patrick stepped up next to Sera. “You got enough mana left for our new trick?”
She nodded, grabbing his left hand. “Oh, yes.”
Patrick grinned, turning back to me and Marissa. “Buy us a few seconds?”
Marissa nodded.
Then she charged.
She was a blur of gold and white, her Guardian shroud blasting her forward with preternatural speed.
I…couldn’t possibly keep up with that.
I drew my sword and cautiously followed her at a jogging pace.
Marissa slammed into the first barghensi with a punch like a runaway train. It must have weighed eight hundred pounds, but it still flew backward like she’d smashed a toy doll.
Then she was moving again, jumping atop one of the spiders and slamming a boot into its skull. The creature crumpled as she leapt off it, and kicked another barghensi in the face.
I… think I was a little enthralled there, for just a moment.
And then I was in there amongst the monsters, swishing my sword out to slice through a barghensi’s leg. The enchanted sword cut cleanly through, crippling the creature, and I felt a pang of guilt as it howled in agony.
I almost shut down.
These weren’t illusions like the things I’d been fighting during the school tests. That barghensi’s pain was real.
Maybe most people told themselves that a monster’s pain was just part of a convincing illusion, but I’d been reading stories about monsters taking intelligent actions since my childhood. I couldn’t believe monsters to be less sentient than ordinary animals, and some of them seemed even more so. Meeting Vanniv and hearing him try to barter for an extended existence had further solidified my view.
Marissa slammed into me, pushing me out of the way of a monstrous spider claw. Fortunately, she danced out of the way in time to avoid taking the hit herself.
“No dyin’, Cadence.” She slammed a fist backward, not even looking at the creature she’d smashed. “You’ve got a job to do.”
I glanced back at the Hero’s End, the tower serpent still looming in the distance, violently lashing destruction in the next section of buildings.
Marissa was right. While hurting these creatures felt viscerally wrong, the wrong of failing to stop the assault was a far greater one. I’d have to stomach the guilt to save as many people as I could.
Of course, it was possible we would slaughter these creatures and still fail to talk Katashi into stopping the attack…but I couldn’t think about that. It was the kind of doubt that could rob my friends of their lives.
I nodded to Marissa. “Let’s do this.”
She grinned at me. “Back to back, yeah?”
I nodded, turning around and feeling her press against me. “Back to back.”
I lowered my blade, drawing in breath as I looked at the approaching creatures with renewed resolve.
“Uh, yeah, don’t do that!” Patrick shouted. “Be ready to run!”
I glanced at Patrick and Sera. They were still holding hands… and they were glowing, a pulsing aura of bright blue and white enveloping the pair.
I had no idea what that meant.
“Aww, c’mon!” Marissa shouted. She broke from our short-lived formation, stepping forward and slamming another barghensi in the jaw with a fist. This one took the hit without flying back. It merely staggered.
It didn’t look any stronger. That meant Marissa was getting weaker.
She’d burned through most of her mana fast.
I spotted a spider rushing at her from the right. She turned to move, stepping backward — and promptly tripped over her own feet.
I moved without thinking, stepping in the way and bringing my blade upward in a diagonal slice. I felt the transference mana running along the edge as if it was a part of me, pushing it outward with the force of instinct.
A vast wave of cutting energy ripped free from my strike, flashing into the distance.
When it ended, the looming spider fell into two pieces, cleanly split in half.
“Th—thanks!”
I slashed to the left and right, warding off two encroaching barghensi as Marissa regained her footing.
Patrick’s voice hit me next. “Back off, fast!”
The monsters were keeping a healthy blade-length away from me now, which gave us a moment to process Patrick’s shout and move.
As we started to run, two voices rose as one.
“Child of the goddess, we call upon your aid.
Rain frost from the skies in a Permafrost Cascade!”
The world darkened as the sky was filled with ice. Even with my blood burning with exertion, the newborn chill nearly froze me in place.
Wedges of frost the size of wagons flashed downward from the sky in the dozens, smashing and cleaving the horde of monsters arrayed behind us.
When Marissa and I made it back to Patrick and Sera, we found them kneeling, still holding hands with their eyes frozen shut. Hoarfrost clung to their bodies, the withering aura of ice around them too potent for me to come within arm’s reach.
I turned to see if any of the monsters had made it through the spell to close on us, but I had no need to worry. Javelins of frost continued to pommel those few creatures that had managed to survive the initial barrage, pinning limbs and piercing throats until not a single barghensi or spider remained standing.
When the pair finally pulled their hands apart, shivering and panting, no further threats moved toward us.
But the minotaur still loomed in the distance, far beyond their spell’s bombardment range.
Teft staggered close to the pair as the aura around them began to fade. “You did…well. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen first year students manage a cooperative spell on that scale.”
“I will take care of things from here.” Jin stepped in front of the group, calmly walking past us toward the distant minotaur.
I started to follow him, but he turned his head as I moved. “I will not be able to protect you if you are close.”
I wanted to protest that I could protect myself, but Marissa had already almost taken a hit for me, so that clearly wasn’t true.
“I’ll keep a safe distance. Marissa, protect the others.” Jin’s tone brooked no argument. Even Teft simply gave Jin a scrutinizing glance and then nodded.
I sincerely hoped that Teft knew something that I did not.
As Jin marched forward, I stayed a good twenty yards back, deliberately avoiding the frigid grounds where the monsters had fallen moments before.
A glance upward told me little. The ice from the spell had faded when Patrick and Sera had broken contact, and the flyers above were holding steady. I couldn’t see Vanniv in their midst. There were simply too many of them, and they were too high up to be clearly distinct. Of whether he’d succeeded or failed, I could see no clear sign.
When Jin was a stone’s throw away from the tower, the minotaur finally moved.
And in spite of being the height of an ogre, it was fast. With a single motion, it hurled a tremendous two-handed axe through the air, the projectile whirling toward Jin’s location with a visible aura of force.
And Jin wasn’t moving fast enough to dodge.
I lashed out in alarm, slashing in the air and pushing a wave of mana toward the axe, but I wasn’t fast enough either.
The blade slammed right into Jin’s chest—
—and he vanished.
Reminding me of one of the very first things I’d made him.
Item that allows for the projection of an illusory self.
A part of me expected to see the real Jin appear a moment later, but fortunately for Jin, his invisibility was from a completely separate item. Moments passed and I still couldn’t see any sign of him.
I did hear him, though, when his guns began to fire.
The minotaur grunted as bullets slammed into its chest and neck.
I’d enchanted Jin’s revolvers, too — but even with transference enchantments to increase the velocity of the projectiles, the bullets didn’t seem to be doing the minotaur much harm.
The minotaur grunted, lowering its horns toward the sound of the noise, and charged.
The sound of gunfire stopped. Jin must have realized that it was tracking him through sound as soon as it moved.
I continued to move forward, slowly working to close the distance where I might be able to reliably hit the minotaur with one of the transference waves from my sword.
I really needed to come up with a good name for that technique at some point.
The minotaur halted its charge with no sign of impact, which was good.
Then it turned toward me, which was bad.
I raised my sword with both hands, preparing to push a transference slash at the creature as soon as it got close enough.
“Corin, move!”
I jumped back just as the creature’s axe swept through the air where I’d been moments before, close enough that it brushed the trailing fabric of my tunic.
That was when I remembered that I hadn’t properly recharged my barrier after the test.
The axe continued to fly past me, circling around until it landed in the minotaur’s upraised hand.
It threw the axe again immediately — right toward the location of the warning shout.
A flashing sphere of blue told me that the axe had struck home.
Jin appeared, falling to his knees as the axe flew back to the minotaur. He had no visible injuries — the barrier had successfully prevented the axe from cutting him — but barriers were terrible at stopping raw kinetic force.
From the way Jin was coughing and gripping his chest, one of his pistols fallen from his hand, I was pretty sure he’d just lost a couple of ribs.
The minotaur let out an echoing laugh, snorting into the air, and caught the axe as it flew back to the creature’s hand.
It advanced slowly now, hefting the axe over its shoulder, giving Jin more than enough time to flee.
The problem, of course, was that Jin wasn’t getting back up.
I was close enough that I could hear him breathing now, but it was a ragged wheeze.
I glanced back at my group. Marissa was bolting toward us.
But she was running at an ordinary mortal’s speed now. No aura of gold flickered around her, no Guardian power remained to give her strength.
I ran to stand in the minotaur’s path.
The creature tilted its head downward, eyeing me with disdain.
I ripped the ring that Professor Orden had given me off my finger, tossing it at Jin. Fortunately, we were close enough that it hit him straight in the chest. “Put that on and use it, now!”
I didn’t wait to see if he complied. I had a mere instant to step aside before the axe slammed into the space where I’d been standing.
I countered with a thrust into the minotaur’s thigh.
The creature howled, stepping back in surprise.
I gave my bloodstained blade a flourish in the air. “You just hurt my friend. That was a mistake.”
I turned my gaze up to meet the minotaur’s. “Let’s dance.”
The minotaur was a good ten feet tall. Almost twice my height, and probably at least five or six times my mass and strength.
But that wasn’t much different from a child of ten learning to fight against a champion duelist father.
As he pulled his axe out of the ground, I rolled between his legs, turning and slashing his hamstrings. The enchanted blade bit into flesh, but it didn’t cut straight through bone like it had with the barghensi. The creature’s Sunstone aura was a natural shield, dampening the force of my blows.
I cut twice more before it managed to spin, each cut leaving only a slight mark.
But it didn’t matter.
As the axe swept around, I ducked beneath it, thrusting upward to pierce straight into the minotaur’s chest. The blade only sank in a few inches — but that was enough.
I pushed on the aura in the blade, blasting mana straight into the wound.
The minotaur fell backward, dropping the axe to clutch its chest.
I smirked, moving in to strike a final blow—
— and its hand shot out, grabbing me by the neck.
I struck out in shock as it began to squeeze, but it turned its head aside, and my thrust aimed for the neck scraped harmlessly across a cheek.
My vision reddened as the minotaur began to squeeze.
And then the sound of a single shot rang out and the pressure faded to nothing.
I fell to my knees, panting as the minotaur collapsed at my side, lifeless. Smoke rose from the hole where a bullet had pierced the back of the creature’s skull.
I dropped my sword, shivering. I couldn’t quite process what had just happened. It wasn’t until I saw Marissa kneeling over Jin’s fallen form that I managed to push myself to my feet.
I staggered past the fallen minotaur toward where Marissa was shaking Jin.
“Wake up, Jin! Wake up!”
Oh, goddess.
I got closer to Jin, I saw something shining on the ground just in front of him. The ring.
He hadn’t put it on.
He’d picked up a pistol and saved me instead.
Resh. Jin…
Marissa glanced at me with a panicked expression. “Corin, we need to do something. He’s not conscious, and I don’t think he’s breathing right.”
I swept up the ring and knelt by the pair. “Give me his hand.”
Marissa looked at me in confusion, taking in the ring a second later. She gripped one of his hands and moved it to me. The ring didn’t quite fit on his pointer finger, so I slipped it on his index finger instead.
I didn’t have a good idea of how it worked. Orden had me activate it with my own mana. I didn’t know if I could make it work for someone else. But I had to try.
I closed my eyes, focused my mind, and pushed gray mana into the ring.
And I had no idea if anything happened.
Since I wasn’t the one wearing the ring, I wouldn’t be the one experiencing the regeneration. Thus, I felt no change.
I panicked for a minute like an idiot before thinking to activate my attunement.
There was a faint aura stretching from the ring across his arm, but it didn’t seem to be spreading further.
It wasn’t enough. I gripped the ring and pushed my mana harder, flooding it with gray, but the ring resisted the flow. It wasn’t meant to be used in this way, and I could only push it to a limited degree.
“Wake him up if you can. The ring isn’t working properly without his mind to regulate it.”
I stood up, and Marissa’s eyes followed me. “What are you doing?”
“Going for help.”
I turned toward the visage of the goddess, his body burning with sacred fire, and I walked with determination.
I came within about twenty feet before the visage deigned to acknowledge my presence. His head turned ever-so-slightly, his lips twisting downward.
Not an auspicious start.
“I know you, mortal.” Katashi raised a hand to his chin. “You may kneel before me.”
Normally, I’d want to say something snappy to anyone being that sanctimonious.
But this was Katashi. He could annihilate me with a gesture.
So, grinding my jaw, I knelt. “Great Katashi—”
“I did not give you leave to speak, scion of House Cadence. I was merciful before because I sensed you were not aware of the actions of the ones you freed, and because you are unimportant.”
I pressed my head against the dirt in supplication. I hoped it would be enough.
Katashi flickered closer. As he reappeared above me, I could feel a burst of pressure push down on me from his aura, and not merely on my body. I could feel the mana within me constricting. The visage’s mere presence was twisting my power, paralyzing it.
I trembled in abject terror.
Authority figures generally didn’t scare me. I had no hesitation about mouthing off to someone like Teft. But if I made a mistake here? Not only could Katashi annihilate me outright, he could kill everyone I cared about with another gesture.
“Why have you come to me? You may answer honestly.”
I raised my head just slightly, to make it easier to hear my reply. “I was hoping to stop the attacks.” And, with a sliver of bravery piercing through my fear, I managed an addition. “And my friend over there is dying. He’s a Dalen.”
I didn’t know much about House Dalen, but I did know that they were the ruling house of Dalenos, and that Katashi was their patron visage. I didn’t know what Jin’s connection to them was, but I hoped it would be sufficient.
“I will tend to one of my flock.”
I felt an almost palpable sense of relief as the words rolled over me and the pressure faded.
When I looked up, Katashi was no longer hovering above me. He was near Jin and Marissa.
And Marissa, bless her bravery, was standing defensively over Jin with her fists raised. She must have been too far away to hear my conversation with Katashi.
Katashi tilted his head downward to examine her.
I envisioned a thousand ways he could make her die.
My steps were feeble, but they carried me closer as he spoke to her.
“You would stand between me and this one?”
I don’t know how, but Marissa stood unfazed by his voice, her back unbowed by the pressure that had torn my mind to nothing.
“Begging your pardon, m’visage, but if you’re meanin’ him harm, I’m a’fred so.”
“You are aware of who I am?”
His aura brightened as he spoke. I could feel the pressure even from a distance then, sapping away my will to even stand.
Marissa remained unbowed.
“Aye, m’visage. You be Katashi, sir. Not meaning to be rude, but I’m a Guardian, sir. I’d stand between my friends and the goddess herself.”
Katashi floated down, his feet touching the ground. He stepped close to her, his face nearly brushing against hers, their eyes fixed together.
And then he stepped back, folding his hands in front of him, and bowed at the waist.
“There is no cause in this world more valuable than the desire to protect another. You have proven a worthy companion to this one. He walks a difficult path. I am pleased that one such as you will be at his side.”
Katashi knelt, pressing his hands against Jin’s chest. “Breathe.”
A wave of white light flowed from Katashi’s hands to encompass Jin’s entire body.
And Jin breathed in. Marissa raised her hands to her mouth, falling to her own knees to grip Jin’s hand. She turned her head up to Katashi. “Many thanks, m’visage. For your kind words, but more, for saving my friend.”
Katashi released his hands from Jin’s fallen form and stood. He turned his head back to Marissa. “Worthy one, speak your name.”
Marissa bowed her head. “Marissa Callahan, m’visage.”
“Marissa Callahan, reveal your attunement to me.”
“Yes, m’visage.” Marissa didn’t show the slightest hint of embarrassment as she unbuttoned the top buttons of her uniform, opening it up to display the center of her chest.
Her attunement was over her heart.
Katashi’s hand glowed again as he spoke. “Marissa, you will need greater strength to protect your friends from harm. You have already begun to walk this path on your own, but I will grant you a sliver of my strength in acknowledgement of your bravery.”
A flicker of blue fire appeared on his finger as he reached forward — and drew an extra line on her sigil.
And for the first time, I saw an attunement change.
Marissa gasped, clenching her fists. Her entire body trembled and she screamed into the air as an aura of crimson fire poured out of her.
No, not crimson.
Carnelian.
She’d reached the next level of her attunement.
The aura persisted around her even as she bowed her head. “I thank you again, m’visage, for your kindness. It is undeserved.”
He glanced back to her for one more moment. “Our business has concluded.”
And then he was in front of me again, with no sign of how he’d crossed the intervening space. I’d seen teleportation before, of course, but this was effortless. I couldn’t imagine even Professor Orden moving in the same way, without a single telltale gesture or word.
I was wise enough to kneel immediately this time.
“Cadence. I tire of speaking with humans, even if there is a virtuous one among you. You spoke of a wish to stop the attacks on the city. I am not inclined to do so. You may attempt to persuade me, but I am not in a patient mood.”
“If you will forgive a question, why are you attacking?”
Katashi waved a hand dismissively. “Your kingdom’s leaders are aware of their failure. But you are but a child, and I will forgive you for the inquiry. My brother is missing. Conspirators among your people hide him from me. This is unacceptable.”
I frowned. I knew Tenjin hadn’t been seen recently in human society, of course, and that Katashi being here was unusual. I’d suspected that Katashi was pulling a coup, if anything.
I hadn’t considered that he might have been worried about his own brother.
“I…sympathize with that more than you might realize, great one. I have spent the last five years hoping I could find my own brother in the tower. That has been my principal motivation in life.”
Katashi offered no reply. He simply turned his head aside.
A moment of humanity, perhaps?
I needed to capitalize on that if I could. “If you will stop the assault, I will vow to do everything in my power to help find your brother, just as I have searched for my own.”
Katashi looked down at me. “Protection is a worthy cause, as I told your brave Guardian. And I sense there is a degree of truth in your offer. You would make an effort, though not with all of your will. I do not fault you for only having a mortal’s resolve. But your vow is insufficient; you are but a child.”
The visage folded his arms. His expression seemed…tired. “These attacks will drive the conspirators out of hiding. I have no desire to harm the innocent while battling the wicked, but that is a price I am willing to pay to discover my brother’s location. The longer I wait, the more likely my brother will be harmed.”
I…understood his feelings on that matter all too well.
Katashi shook his head, turning to leave.
“Wait. Please, wait, great visage. I want to help find your brother. Do you have any idea who might have taken him?”
Katashi spun, the segment of his aura closest to him igniting into fire. “Oh, I know quite well where to begin my search. Her name is Vera Corrington. You helped her escape. I am aware you were deceived. That is the only reason I have not destroyed you.”
I lowered my head. “Thank you for your magnanimity, visage. Please forgive my foolishness.”
“You wish for forgiveness? You wish for me to stop these attacks?”
His hands clenched into fists — which, of course, were also on fire. “You ask for much, Cadence. And I am not known for my forgiving side. But there may yet be a way to earn what you ask for. In freeing those prisoners, you may have gained their trust.”
Oh, I did not like where this was going at all.
“You will bring Vera Corrington to me, within the tower. If you agree to be bound to this, I will give this city a reprieve. If you should fail, or try my patience, I will resume the assault. And heed my words; this strike showed great restraint on my part.”
He paused, glaring down at me, his eyes burning with — you guessed it — fire.
“You have seen how many of my winged ones merely gather around the tower; next time, I will send them all. You have seen a scattered few of my ground forces; next time, I will bring every one. You have seen the damage done by a child of the serpent; next time I will bring the Serpent herself.”
I shivered involuntarily, remembering when I’d seen Seiryu in the tower. The God Serpent’s eye had been larger than my entire body.
Mizuchi, one of Seiryu’s children, was already demolishing this section of the city without difficulty. I couldn’t imagine anything managing to even slow Seiryu down. “How much time will I have?”
“You will have one week to find her and bring her to me. She must be alive. I will await you in the chamber in which we first met.”
I winced. “That’s…not much time, great visage. I’m sure you’re aware that my resources are limited, and if you’re right and there are people in our government working against you—”
“This is not a negotiation.”
I extended my right hand. “Then we have a deal.”
Katashi grasped my hand in his and I understood that my gesture had been a mistake when my flesh began to burn. “The Pact is Sealed.”
When he withdrew his hand, I had a mark on the back of my palm.
It was not an attunement. No, I was not nearly so lucky.
It was a brand.
The sigil of Katashi had been burned into my skin. A reminder of our pact — and, more than likely, the sign that I’d been bound with some kind of divine geas.
There were several things horribly wrong with what had just happened.
I’d just agreed to do something I might not be capable of doing and the consequences would hurt far more than just me if I failed.
Moreover, I’d just agreed to hand over someone to an angry visage who might have nothing to do with his brother’s actual disappearance. Vera had stabbed me in the back a little, but she didn’t exactly deserve a visage’s anger if she hadn’t been involved — and I didn’t see much chance of her surviving either way.
I had a pretty good idea of where to find Vera, or at least a place to start. That inventor I’d seen months earlier was named Aloras Corrington. The likelihood of there being multiple people in the city with the surname Corrington, both from Caelford, that were completely unrelated… well, chances were slim.
That was the worst part of all. I knew that because it was fairly obvious — and that meant other people would have figured it out, too. Katashi had told me directly that higher ups in the city knew about this already. The chances that no one in their inner circle had considered asking another Corrington about Vera’s location was also extraordinarily low.
Which meant, more than likely, that someone with power was deliberately hiding her.
I felt my hand burning deeper as Katashi’s wings stretched — and he flew into the cloud of winged figures above, and then through them toward the top of the tower.
They followed immediately, soaring skyward until they disappeared from view.
And as I glanced toward the city, I saw the Mizuchi’s massive form dislodge itself from another building to soar upward toward the sky.
Katashi had kept his side of the bargain.
I wasn’t so sure I’d be able to keep mine.
Chapter XVIII — Reconiassance
I stood staring at the retreating spiral of gargoyles and karvensi, lost in thought until I noticed that one of them was coming down, rather than up.
Vanniv landed next to me, and then turned his own gaze upward with a smug grin. “Hah! See that? Just a few minutes and I’ve got ‘em all running!”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m pretty sure that’s not why they’re leaving, Vanniv. Also, flying, not running.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Semantics. The point is that they’re fleeing from my majesty and might.”
I rubbed my forehead. “…right, right. Let’s get back to the others.”
Jin was already standing by the time we reached him, although he looked a little wobbly. Marissa silently helped steady him, but Jin waved her away. She looked like she was almost ready to collapse herself.
I slowed down for the two of them. “Jin, how are you feeling?”
Jin grimaced. “The healing was thorough. I am well.”
That was a tremendous relief. “I’m glad to hear it. Let me know you feel any resurgence of pain, though.”
He gave me a hasty nod, looking a little uncomfortable. I was still concerned, but it was clear he didn’t want me to press further.
Marissa stumbled, nearly falling, and Jin had to catch and steady her. She blinked, looking about as surprised as I was. “My head feels swimmy.”
“You probably overused your mana. You need help walking?”
She paused and then nodded. “If you don’t mind terribly.”
I slipped an arm under her shoulder and we continued walking.
The rest of the group was steadily making their way toward us. Teft still looked unsteady, nearly tripping more than once. I’d never seen him anything other than completely collected and in control. The sight was disconcerting.
Especially since Mizuchi had taken that much out of him with a single attack, and one that wasn’t even directed at us. Just how much of a gulf was there between that serpent and an ordinary monster?
I knew intellectually that monsters from higher up in the tower were supposed to be progressively stronger, but the sheer difference in scale was mind-boggling.
I could still see the vast creature flying toward the top of the tower. On an impulse, I activated my attunement for just a moment.
Mizuchi’s aura was a deep green. It was the first Emerald-level aura I’d seen in person. Mother had called herself an Emerald, but I’d only seen her aura in a vision through someone else’s eyes.
I knew Orden’s tunic was supposed to carry an Emerald-level enchantment, but I’d never been able to see the aura. Presumably her Illusionist abilities were keeping it hidden.
Emerald. I glanced at Teft, confirming my suspicion that his aura was a golden yellow. Citrine was on the higher end of what I’d seen within the school. I suspected Orden’s Illusionist Attunement was in the same range.
Only two levels below the monster and he’d still barely been able to defend us from collateral damage.
If Katashi decided to unleash Seiryu, the God Serpent, what chance did any of us have? As powerful as Mizuchi was, Seiryu was hundreds of times more massive. Total mana generally correlated to the size of a monster. I doubted the entire force of our military could stand against Seiryu for more than moments.
I shivered, turning to look at the area where Mizuchi had been attacking. Bodies everywhere. Some still moving, but most lying still. Dozens of dead. Maybe hundreds. I could only see one area that had been attacked, there were undoubtedly others.
If I wanted to prevent the death of thousands, I had some serious work to do.
Vanniv flapped his wings, clearing the distance to Sera in a few moments. “Ah, my Summoner, you push yourself too far! You must be more careful.”
Sera folded her arms. “Concerned, Vanniv, or do you just want something?”
“Can’t it be both?”
Sera sighed. “We’ll finalize the details of your contract soon. For the moment, we need to go help triage any survivors over there.” She gestured toward the line of demolished buildings where Mizuchi had struck.
I nodded to her, grateful that Sera was thinking about the wounded like I was.
Teft shook his head. “Absolutely not. We are going straight back to the university. It was a mistake to ever allow you children out here. What happened with Katashi? I couldn’t hear everything you were saying from a distance.”
I folded my arms. “Katashi is leaving for now. The danger has passed. We should be able to go help the injured safely.”
“Incorrect, Corin.” He pointed upward. “What do you see?”
I didn’t want to take the bait, but I scanned upward anyway. “The complete absence of a weather shield.”
Teft nodded. “And what do you think might have caused such a thing?”
Patrick trudged up next to me, interjecting before I had a chance to reply. “Giant monster serpent, obviously.”
The professor sighed. “The ‘giant monster serpent’ never left this area, Mister Wayland. And the shield has several redundant mana generators, located throughout the city.”
“Meaning sabotage,” I cut in.
“Quite. Sabotage on quite an extreme scale. Katashi himself would not bother with such an action. If he wanted to eradicate the city, he could do it himself. Rather, this implies an opportunistic action from a third party. One that was either already poised to strike as soon as anything gave them a good window, or alternatively, one that was aware that Katashi was about to launch an assault.”
Patrick frowned. “Who could have known that Katashi was going to come out here with monsters?”
I had some ideas about that. “Katashi said that there were people in high places that already knew what he wanted. He seemed to think he was being deliberately obstructed by someone in our government. He used the term ‘conspirators’.” I waved in the direction of the academy and the group started walking. Near the back, I could hear Sera talking quietly to Vanniv, presumably solidifying their arrangement.
Teft ran a hand through his hair. “That’s not surprising, but it’s dire news if it’s true. We’ve been on the brink of a war with Edria for months. This could mean someone supporting them has infiltrated our government. We need to get you to safety, then I need to know everything Katashi told you.”
“Resh. Traitors?” Patrick mumbled. “This just gets worse and worse.”
I clenched my fists at the possibility. Fighting monsters was horrible enough. I didn’t like the idea of harming any kind of living creature. War against other humans?
It was disgusting to me that someone could justify that idea. But it was also all too typical. I couldn’t stand how little human life meant to so many people.
My eyes moved back to the wreckage, the survivors picking up the wounded. My jaw tightened. This was just a warning attack and it had already claimed lives.
A portion of that was on me, for my role in getting Vera out of that prison.
I had little doubt that someone else would have freed her if I hadn’t. The recently dead body in front of the cell was proof enough that other people could get into the same room. But would it have played out differently if whoever else had stumbled into that cell had asked more questions? If they’d just freed that child and left her behind? Or freed Keras and left the other two?
I didn’t know if that would have made things go better or worse. All I knew is that people were dead, and that I’d played a part in it.
I’d never fix that. No amount of service would give their lives back. I told myself I’d find their names, maybe do something for their families when I was older and more influential, but it felt hollow. Insufficient.
First, I needed to keep things from getting worse.
Then, I’d find out who was pulling the strings on this whole mess.
And if it was Vera? We’d have a reckoning very soon.
* * *
Professor Orden appeared in front of us before we managed to make it to the academy gates. I tensed, hand going for my sheathed sword before I recognized her, and I let it rest on the hilt even after I did.
I wasn’t quite sure who I could trust at this point.
True, Orden teleporting us here had managed to resolve the attack much earlier than it might have been otherwise. I was grateful for that. But her whole connection with the Voice of the Tower meant she was deeply involved with something, and I didn’t know who or what she was actually working for.
It was about time to get some real answers.
“Lyras.” Teft sounded exhausted when he spoke, his tone tinged with obvious frustration. “Can you get us to Commander Bennet? We need to talk.”
Professor Orden shook her head. “I need a minute to rest — mana is too depleted. I’ll walk with you, though. Is everyone safe?”
Ah, so now she’s concerned. I’m touched.
Teft gave her a curt nod. “Barely.”
“Sufficient.” She turned her head toward the rest of us. “I’m sorry to have sent you children into danger. Normally, I’d abhor sending you to take a risk like that — but I knew Corin had a chance to end this conflict. And he did. Well-done, Corin.”
I raised my right hand, showing her the brand. Her eyes widened just slightly. “Not without consequence. He’ll be back in a week with reinforcements if we don’t do what he wants. I need to find someone for him and bring her back to the tower.”
Orden took a step closer, tilting her head as she examined the mark. “I… that is most unfortunate. But manageable, I should hope.”
“You seem to know more about my new adornment than I do.” I flexed my hand in the air, suddenly self-conscious. “Care to share?”
Orden folded her hands in front of her. “There are multiple types of visage marks. Some are permanent signs of a visage’s favor, and they confer abilities similar to an attunement. This one, however, appears to temporary. It’s designed to ensure that you successfully complete the task you’ve been charged with.”
I raised my hand, looking at it with my attunement active for the first time. The glow that simmered from the burned flesh was a deep blue. Sapphire, I realized. Sweet Goddess. I guess levels higher than Emerald actually do exist, even if it’s possible that only the visages have that kind of power.
It wasn’t feeding power into me, though. It wasn’t like I suddenly had a Sapphire aura myself. Experimentally, I tried to reach into it to draw mana out of the mark, but I couldn’t even feel anything there. Apparently, it wasn’t meant to be a tool for my use.
“Any idea what it might do?” I lowered my hand.
Orden shrugged. “I’ve never seen one of Katashi’s marks. Visage marks are usually themed to the visage. My assumption is that if you don’t complete the task, it will most likely ‘judge’ you. I’m sure you can figure out for yourself what that entails.”
I briefly contemplated how difficult it would be to safely remove my hand.
Jin stepped up beside me, speaking for the first time I could remember since he lost consciousness. “Katashi would not have chosen you if you could not succeed.”
I wasn’t so certain about that, but I appreciated his confidence. “Thanks, Jin.”
“It is nothing. You must focus on your task. Put your doubts aside.”
I nodded. “Right. Katashi gave me a limited period of time to find someone. I should probably start immediately.”
Teft put a hand on my shoulder. “We’re in no shape to be dealing with any sort of danger right now, Corin.”
I flinched away from his touch. It was probably supposed to be reassuring, but I didn’t have the best experience with authority figures holding me. “Right. We’ll rest first.”
Orden started walking toward the academy and we followed in her wake. “Care to fill me in on what you’ve discovered?”
I wasn’t so sure that was a good idea, but maybe I could make this work. “Sure, but only in trade.”
“Whatever do you mean, Corin?” She glanced back over her shoulder at me.
I narrowed my eyes. “Not in the mood, Lyras. You’ve been looking into this — or things related to it — for months. And you cut me out of it, only to throw me and my friends,” I gestured to the group for emphasis, “straight into danger as soon as it was convenient for you. People are dead because we didn’t solve this sooner. I’m done with secrets, at least among the people here. I’m going to tell them what I know, and you’re going to fill in the blanks.”
She sighed. “You do realize you’re exposing them to more danger by getting them further involved?”
I scanned my group of friends. “Anyone not want to know what’s going on here? We can cut this discussion short and resume it later if anyone wants an out.”
Patrick frowned, an uncharacteristic look of seriousness on his face. “People are getting hurt, Corin. I, for one, can’t turn a blind eye to that.”
Jin nodded. “It is as Patrick says. And Katashi has marked you; I am bound to see this through.”
Marissa scratched the back of her head. “Suppose I’m curious ‘bout all this, too.”
I turned to look at Sera.
She just tilted her head at me. “Don’t even ask, Corin. Of course I want to know what’s going on. Vanniv is staying, too.”
Somehow I’d forgotten about the six-foot tall stone man with wings and impressively chiseled — possibly literally chiseled — abs.
Vanniv put a hand over his chest. “Ooh, yes. I love secrets! Tell me all your secrets.”
Professor Orden rolled her eyes. “Sera, don’t be absurd. Put that thing away?”
She shrugged. “I could, but I’m not going to. Vanniv is not a thing. He’s an intelligent entity and he doesn’t like ceasing to exist, even temporarily.”
Interesting. Seems like Sera is thinking along similar lines to my own, even if she isn’t quite as firmly against violence.
Vanniv turned his head toward Sera, then back to Orden. “This pleases me. Let the revealing of secrets commence!”
Orden glowered at Vanniv. “Ugh. I’m tired of this discussion. If she wants a monster like you to bring information back to the tower, so be it.”
Professor Orden paused for another moment before continuing, “We need to move somewhere more secure before we have this particular talk. Corin, I will accept your ‘trade’, given the circumstances. We’ll walk a few more minutes while I regain my mana, then I’ll teleport us somewhere secure to talk.”
I nodded. “Very well.”
I hoped that a few minutes would give Teft enough time to recover some of his strength, just in case this went as badly as I imagined it could. I didn’t think anyone else had a splinter of a chance against Orden if she did decide to do us harm.
We walked in relative silence until Orden paused, deeming it time, and instructed us to join hands. We formed a large circle before, and then she spoke.
“Spirit of wind and air, I command you!
By the pact sealed between us, I invoke your power.
Rise around us and within us;
Carry us upon your ethereal wings to the place of greatest safety.
Veiled Teleport!”
And once again, we moved.
* * *
Fortunately, I didn’t throw up this time.
Apparently the ring had done its job. I’d almost forgotten about the headache I’d been suffering, and the pain from my nose had faded to a dull throb.
I remembered the whole incident with our last teleport as we arrived, and it occurred to me that Jin still had the ring, but that was probably for the best for now. Katashi had healed him, but I wasn’t sure how thorough that spell was. If he’d really had a lung punctured by a rib like I suspected, he probably needed the ring vastly more than I did.
Our surroundings were at least reasonably familiar, if only for their lack of décor. We were standing in a vast space of blackness, with no obvious floor or walls, and only a single floating torch shedding light.
It was the same place that Orden had taken me the first time we’d had a private talk, or at least one that was visually identical to it. I couldn’t assume it was the same one; I didn’t know enough about this space to know if there could be several of them.
Once we managed to get our bearings, Orden waved a hand toward the floor. “You may all sit.”
Patrick frowned. “What, on the darkness? Where even are we?”
“A safe place,” Orden replied. “And worry not, I will be hospitable.” She sat down, a chair appearing beneath her as she made the motion.
Dubiously, I attempted to sit as well, finding a chair beneath me a moment later. The others followed suit, save Jin, who remained standing.
Orden waved a hand at me. “I suggest you offer some context to everyone before we get into the more recent details.”
I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I suppose I should.”
Sera shot me a frustrated look. “Yes, I’m sure some of us would very much like to hear what you have to say.”
I glanced back at Sera. “I’m sorry, Sera. Professor Orden made it clear that this information could be dangerous. I was planning to tell you after I did some more research.”
She sighed. “Fine. Just don’t make more decisions about what I should know without consulting me?”
“I can’t promise that. Even implying the existence of a secret can cause problems. And I’m sure you understand the necessity for discretion on some things. You made a contract not to tell anyone about your summoned monster, for example.”
She drew in a breath. “You have a point, I suppose I haven’t told you everything either. Fine. I’m not going to make a big deal out of this. But try to be more considerate?”
I nodded. “I will. In the meantime, let me get this story out of the way.”
She waved for me to go ahead and I felt a hint of relief.
I turned so that I could face as many of our group as possible. They arranged their chairs in a circle, facing inward, so that everyone could see me while I was talking.
“Okay. So, I was in the tower for my Judgment when I found an unusual room. It had three jail cells in it, each of which contained a person. Two of them were conscious, the third was a young boy who was out cold.”
“The two people who were awake both asked for me to free them. I had a key from an earlier part of the Judgment, and I found a body on the floor of the room that was carrying a second key. We talked a bit, the young woman — Vera — tried to tell me that the masked man in the cell next to her was a criminal. Long story short, I opened the cells for Vera and the unconscious kid, then the other guy broke out on his own.”
Sera stood up, indicating she had a question, so I paused. “Yeah?”
Sera folded her arms. “Let me get this straight. You had two jail cell keys that worked on the cell doors?”
I shook my head. I’d considered this irregularity before, too. “No, ordinary keys that seemed to be designed for rooms in the Judgment process.”
“And they worked on the cell doors, just like that?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
Teft stood and joined the conversation. “Implying that whoever created the cells designed them for people taking the Judgment to open them.”
I frowned. “Or maybe they were just magic keys, designed to open any normal lock…?”
Teft scratched his chin. “Unlikely. I’ve been through the Climber’s Gates several times and I’ve seen many magic keys, but they’re always tied to specific types of locks. Did the keys vanish after you used them?”
I nodded. “Yes, otherwise I could have just opened all three with one key.”
“That indicates a deliberate puzzle-like design, then, where you’re forced to make a choice on who to free. I can see why you originally interpreted it as merely a part of the Judgment; no true jail cells would be designed to be opened by keys found by any random person in the tower.”
Sera turned to Teft. “What would the point of locks like that even be, then? It obviously wasn’t just part of the Judgment, if he set real people free.”
Teft leaned forward against his cane. “I can see a few main possibilities. One is that the prisoners were intended to be freed at a specific time, but in a way that would make it look — both to the person with the keys and the people in the cells — like they were being ‘rescued’. I consider this fairly likely.”
He raised two fingers. “Two, whichever visage was overseeing the test wanted Corin to free a real prisoner to see the consequences of his actions. Highly unlikely.”
Teft lifted a third finger. “Three. The prisoners were meant to be freed, but the time and person who freed them were irrelevant. Perhaps because they’re meant to distract from something more significant. I consider this about as likely as the first option.”
All of which implied that I’d simply played into some sort of larger plot. This was both unsettling, since I’d been duped, and a little comforting in that it took away some of my feeling of guilt for my actions.
Ah, the sweet power of deflecting responsibility.
Sera said one more thing while she was sitting down. “Could one of the prisoners have been the one who set up the whole thing?”
I considered that. “Possible, although they would have to be exceedingly patient. The prisoners said they were in their cells for days. Maybe weeks? I can’t quite remember. I don’t imagine them setting up a situation where they’d be stuck in a cell for that long.”
“Probably not,” Sera replied.
Teft gestured to me. “We can think about this part more later. Please, continue the story.”
I nodded. “Okay, so now the prisoners are out. The unconscious kid is in bad shape, so we feed him some water. Then we make our way through the next couple rooms. We end up in this huge antechamber with a stairway to a higher floor.”
“That shouldn’t happen in a Judgment,” Teft cut in.
“Clearly it did,” Lyras replied.
“Anyway,” I continued, “Katashi himself is at the top of the stairs and he’s not pleased. Vera and I run for cover. Katashi gets into a fight with the masked man — Keras — and somehow Keras manages to hold him at bay. I still don’t know how that ended, because Vera and I grabbed the kid and fled.”
Teft and Orden exchanged meaningful looks. I kept talking.
“We get into the next room, which has a spire guardian. I give Vera my weapon and she handles it. Then she points it at me, takes the kid, and tells me not to follow.” I sighed. “So, then I’m by myself.”
By this point, I’d decided not to tell them about the book. It was very clear that Professor Orden wasn’t supposed to find out about it for whatever reason. So, I continued with a minor simplification. “This cloaked figure appears, tells me it’s called the Voice of the Tower, and it ushers me into another room. There’s a fountain in there. I drink, I get an attunement. Then it tells me to carry a message to Lyras.”
I gestured at Professor Orden, “And to leave immediately. Oh, and it gave me a sword. The blue shiny one. There was an exit door in the room, so I took it.”
Definitely wasn’t going to tell them about the little flask of water I took, either.
Professor Orden stood up. “And Corin did meet his responsibility to the Voice and carried the message to me. Thank you, Corin.”
I was glad to be done with my explanation, but I had a question for her in return. “I’d really like to know who — or what — that Voice actually is.”
She nodded. “And I suppose you deserve an answer, after all this. A bit of context first. I am a member of an organization that serves as observers and messengers for the visages. We are colloquially referred to as ‘Whispers’.”
Jin tilted his head toward her a little more suddenly than I was used to see him moving. That clearly got his attention.
Teft looked startled, too. “A Whisper? You never told me—”
“You didn’t need to know, darling. Don’t make a fuss right now, I’m explaining.”
Teft let out a growl and folded his arms, looking more agitated than I’d seen him.
Was there a…thing going on between these two?
I didn’t want to think about that.
Orden paced around behind her chair before continuing. “Each visage has dedicated Whispers, of course, but we all work toward a collective goal. I’m a Whisper of Tenjin. Unfortunately, I can’t let you know about the identities of any of our other members. Even telling you this much is unusual.”
I understood the logic there, but it was exceedingly frustrating.
She continued talking. “The Voice that Corin spoke to in the tower was… well, let’s call him my associate. He was evaluating Corin for membership in our organization, but I suspect that route might be difficult now. The mark on your hand makes you a tad too obvious. We tend to try to blend in.”
I rubbed at my hand. Figures that I’d be disqualified for the amazing sounding secret society at the same time I found out about their existence.
Teft grimaced. “And what have you and this ‘Voice’ been doing, Lyras? What have you gotten into?”
“A whole lot of nothing interesting, Jonathan. Investigating the backgrounds of the people that Corin freed from those cells, as well as the disappearance of Tenjin.”
“You consider that uninteresting?” Teft scoffed.
“Only in that I found so little of relevance. Whoever is concealing Tenjin is far beyond my level of power and influence. Vera and the child are nearby and already under observation. They appear to have deep ties to the government of Caelford. I’m not sure if the children are aware of this, but in spite of their distance, most of our government considers Caelford our closest allies.”
Jin put a hand to his forehead. “Caelford. Really? They’re your closest ally?”
The disdain in his tone was obvious, but I could understand it. If he really was from the royal house of Dalenos — a much geographically closer ally, sitting directly to our north — he’d have every reason to be upset.
Orden turned to him. “It’s not my opinion, Jin. As I said, that’s the stance of some people in the government.”
He grunted and gave her a nod. “Very well.”
Orden leaned up against her chair. “Now, Vera’s significance still isn’t clear to me, but she is a member of a powerful merchant family. She appears to be living with her brother, Aloras, an automobile engineer.”
Just as I’d suspected. I stood up. “Do you think that they’re spies for the Caelford government?”
“Possible, but unlikely. Allies do spy on allies at times, but they’ve been largely keeping to themselves, and we’re well aware of their presence and location. They’re not doing anything overt, which implies to me that they’re waiting for something.”
I nodded. “Like Katashi’s attack. Would they have known the location of the weather shield’s generators? Is that information public?”
Lyras pursed her lips, contemplating for a moment before answering. “An automotive mechanic does potentially have the skill set to sabotage a generator, so you have an interesting idea. If Caelford had decided to side with Edria in a conflict, they could have sent agents to take down our shield… But I don’t think they would have been able to locate all the generators. I’ll check with my contacts to see if they can determine where Aloras was during the attack. It’s an interesting hypothesis.”
I felt vindicated by the idea having some merit, at least, and sat back down.
But, on a hunch, I sat down on an empty space rather than my chair. Another chair appeared to catch me!
This place was amazing.
I needed to figure out how it worked at some point.
Orden didn’t look nearly as excited about the chair manifestation room as I did. Instead, she turned toward Teft for the next part of her explanation. “The other prisoner that Corin freed was Keras Selyrian. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories about what he did in Dalenos.”
Teft nodded and Jin tensed.
Interesting. Does Jin know more about Keras? I assumed that the crystal he showed me was the only thing he found in the Divinatory, but he certainly could have found something else that he kept to himself.
Teft replied, “I saw the memory crystal. I’m not sure the children are supposed to hear about this.”
“Oh, please, Jonathan. That’s hardly a secret. It was in the newspapers.” She turned back to me. “Have you learned anything more recent, Corin?”
I shook my head. “Nothing much. I heard he was sighted heading toward the Edrian border.”
Orden frowned. “How’d you come upon that information?”
“I spoke to my mother, as you suggested, but only briefly.”
The professor nodded. “Good. Have you followed up on anything more recent?”
I shook my head. “Nothing since then, unfortunately. I tried to find you again, but you’d headed into the tower at that point.”
Orden frowned. “You can’t always expect me to answer everything for you, Corin. If you wanted information, you should have broken into the restricted archives in the Divinatory.”
“You expected me…to break in…”
She chuckled. “Whisper candidates are expected to be… resourceful. You’ve proven that way in other areas, but I suppose you’re still not much for trespassing. I’m sure we could work with that, if you end up joining us — but no matter. That’s not the issue right now. I hadn’t actually heard the report about Keras heading toward Edria. That’s something we need to investigate further. I’ll give you a key to the archives. Ask the Researcher for anything regarding Keras within the last few months.”
I nodded. “I’ll do that, but have you found any more information on your side to indicate if Keras is involved?”
“Very little pertaining to him, I’m afraid,” she admitted. “Prior to your mention of Aloras as a suspect, I was considering the possibility that he had been the one to destroy the shield generators. That’s still possible, but Aloras actually seems to fit better. I find it more likely that Keras is the one who is responsible for Tenjin’s disappearance. If he could fight one visage, it’s possible he could have harmed another one.”
No one seemed very comfortable with that statement. It was sacrilege to think a mortal could harm a visage. They were, after all, supposedly aspects of the goddess herself.
At least locally.
I knew that in Caelford, the Mortalists sect believed that the visages were actually heroes who had managed to climb all the way to the top of the towers and ascended to divinity.
Pantheonists, a prominent religion that was primarily in Edria, believed that each of the visages was a god in their own right and biological children of Selys.
While that viewpoint wasn’t popular here, I remembered Katashi’s words. He’d called Tenjin his brother. That definitely sounded more like they were independent entities that were biologically related. Of course, that also could have worked with the Mortalist view. Maybe two brothers had simply made it to the top of a tower together.
Or maybe the visages all really were bits of the same Goddess, like our own Aspectist priests preached, and Katashi was just putting things into terms that I’d understand.
I broke the silence after a few moments. “Seems possible. It’d certainly explain why Katashi wanted to fight him.”
Orden nodded. “Did Katashi mention Keras to you?”
I shook my head. “Not a word on that subject.”
Moment of truth… I supposed that telling Orden the information at this point probably wasn’t going to hurt.
Probably.
I rubbed the burn on my hand. It still hurt just a bit, but not as much as a true brand from an iron would have. Well, as far as I knew. Fortunately, a branding iron had not been one of the tools used to discipline me as a child. “Katashi wanted me to bring Vera to him inside the tower. Within the next week; otherwise he’s going to send a much larger attack.”
“Ah.” Orden sighed. “That explains a few things at least.”
I frowned. “Such as?”
“When the school year started, no one was able to leave the tower. I believe that was because Katashi sealed it almost immediately after his encounter with you, in order to prevent Vera and Keras from leaving the tower.”
I nodded, and she continued explaining.
“Weeks later, when the monsters were scouting the skies — that probably meant whoever he was looking for had managed to get out of the tower somehow. Either they left before Katashi sealed the exits, or perhaps they found some way around the seal. In either case, Katashi didn’t find them, but he did talk to someone who convinced him to leave. Maybe one of our chancellors, perhaps someone in the government.”
That all made sense. “I’d thought you might have been involved in getting the monsters to leave.”
Orden shook her head. “Can’t take credit for that, sadly. I did, however, learn that people were starting to exit the tower again. That’s when I went inside and spoke to the Voice. He confirmed, among other things, that neither Keras nor Vera was still in the tower. I didn’t find out how Keras managed to escape. The Voice might have known, but he doesn’t always tell me everything. It was shortly after that event that I tracked down her location.”
I scratched my chin. “Okay. So, she’s in an obvious enough spot that we can easily find her, but no one has turned her over to Katashi yet. Why?”
“Presumably because whoever spoke to Katashi the first time and gave him assurances was either incompetent or working directly with Vera.”
I balled my hands into fists. “And that inaction just cost lives.”
Professor Orden nodded. “Yes. I will investigate who spoke to Katashi the first time. If they deliberately delayed giving him information, that is a crime that must be answered for. In the meantime, if Katashi’s demand is for us to deliver Vera to him, we would be wise to do so.”
I nodded. “If we know where she is, perhaps we should go as soon as we’ve rested. I see no reason to wait a full week, especially if there are potential enemies who may act before we do.”
Orden glanced at Teft, then back to me. “I concur, but with a few minor adjustments. First, if you are planning to head into the Climber’s Gate, you must be properly prepared. Only six can enter that gate together. Jonathan, I assume you will be going?”
Teft grunted and stood up. “I wasn’t particularly effective against Mizuchi, but I can handle a few floors of the tower. Let’s hope the visage decides to meet us at the entrance, though.”
“Right. I will also be accompanying you. Unfortunately, even if she is incapacitated — which may or may not be necessary — Vera will count as one of our six. That means that you children will need to decide who else among you is going to be entering the tower with Corin, if anyone.”
She paused, biting her lower lip before continuing. “Under normal circumstances, I would advise that Corin be escorted by a full group of professors or military officials…but given the likelihood of corruption in our ranks, I would advise we keep this entire plan to ourselves. I will inform some of the other Whispers of the situation so that they can spread this discretely in case of our failure.”
Teft flexed a hand in the air. “We should at least tell Jack.”
Professor Orden sighed. “Fine, fine. I agree that it’s unlikely the vice chancellor would be working against our country. He’s nothing if not a patriot. But do advise him to be cautious. In fact, perhaps we should just bring him here for the discussion after the children leave?”
Teft scratched his chin. “That would be a good idea.”
“All right.” Professor Orden turned back to me. “Given how dangerous this could be, I’d advise you to buy and pack anything you might need for the tower tonight. Tomorrow, check the archives to research Keras and Vera. Perhaps you’ll find something new. I’ll scout Vera’s location while you do that, and then meet you at the Divinatory at eleven bells. We’ll confront her together and hopefully bring her to the tower directly afterward.”
I nodded. “That should give us plenty of time to get this done before Katashi’s deadline.”
“Agreed. If there are no further questions, I’ll bring you all back to the school - and you can head back to your rooms. Do not discuss anything related to Vera, Keras, or Katashi unless you are in a secure area. You should, however, decide who wishes to go to the tower. Just keep the conversation vague. Understood?”
We all nodded. If we hadn’t been through so much, we probably would have had far more questions. As it was, everyone just looked exhausted.
With another teleport spell, we found ourselves back in the middle of campus.
We headed straight for the dining hall.
Fighting and thinking, it seemed, were both hungry work.
* * *
“I’m going with you.” Sera opened with it almost as soon as the teleport had finished.
“Okay?” I replied uncertainly.
“I would also like to accompany you.” Jin this time. A little surprising, given his reluctance before.
Patrick nudged me next. “I’m in, too, if you need me.”
Marissa had an oddly introspective expression. “I’ll go as well, of course, if you’ll have me.”
I turned to Jin. “Might be unwise for you to come with me, given how badly you were hurt.”
He slipped the ring of regeneration off his finger, handing it back to me. “As I mentioned before, my patron’s healing was quite effective. I no longer feel any pain from my injuries.”
I accepted the ring, slipping it on and activating it immediately. I already felt much better than earlier, but using it more couldn’t hurt.
Probably.
I wasn’t actually sure what happened if you had a regeneration item on and you were already fully healed.
Oh well. If I have three arms in the morning, I’ll know this was a bad idea.
I glanced between my three candidates. I was pretty sure Sera would murder me if I didn’t bring her along. She was already pretty frustrated that I’d been leaving her out so much, and I couldn’t blame her.
Perhaps even more importantly, I didn’t think anyone in our group could match her combat ability. Maybe Marissa, now that she’d hit Carnelian, but I doubted it. Sera’s summoned monsters made her vastly more dangerous than a standard attuned of the same level.
So, if things got messy? Sera was the best option I had.
That meant choosing between Patrick, Marissa, Jin. And that was rough decision to make.
Patrick was my retainer. I wasn’t very good with people, but even I understood that failing to bring him with me on a dangerous mission would potentially alienate him forever. So, uh, that was bad.
Marissa was Carnelian now, which meant she was clearly more powerful than the rest of us. That almost made the decision for me… but she looked exhausted. Sick, even. I remembered her tripping when we were heading back from the fight - had she overused her mana that significantly?
Jin seemed to be looking for a chance to redeem himself in our eyes for getting injured earlier. More importantly, he probably had something to prove to his patron visage. This would give him an opportunity to do something to garner his visage’s favor, as well as repay the visage for healing him earlier. It was a big opportunity for him.
“I’m bringing Sera. She’s family, and her summoned monsters give us more flexibility.” I saw a series of nods from the others; no one seemed to dispute that call.
I turned to Marissa next and handed her the mana watch. “Marissa, can you check what your mana looks like right now?”
She accepted the watch. She’d seen me use it dozens of times and knew how it worked. She turned, awkwardly slipped it into her shirt, then pulled it back out.
The number read “0/172”.
I blinked at the reading. Not only was her mana capacity vastly higher than my own, it was even higher than I’d expected for a Carnelian.
But her current mana was zero. That was strange. Even if she’d overused her mana, she should have recovered some of it by now. “Have you been feeling sick, Marissa?”
She nodded. “Just a bit, pay it no mind.”
Sera turned to Marissa. “I think it’s more than that. Katashi probably gave you an infusion of his mana when he enhanced your attunement. I don’t think your body has acclimated to it yet. Every time I make a contract with a new monster I experience something similar, just on a smaller scale. It looks like he gave you a lot of mana.”
That explanation made sense. It was similar to the reason why Enchanters and Shapers couldn’t safely transfer mana from one person into another.
Marissa looked downcast. “What do I do?”
Sera waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, you’ll be fine. You probably just need to rest for a few days. I think you should sit this one out, though.”
I frowned at that. Marissa was our best option in terms of raw fighting ability. Still, if Sera was right and Marissa was going to be sick for a while…
Marissa looked at me.
Resh. I really didn’t want to make the decision.
“It’s okay, Marissa. You saved me back there and defended Jin, too. You should be proud of that. Take the time to rest, you’ve earned it.”
She gave me a nod. “If you’re certain.”
That left the even harder part.
“Jin, Patrick. I want to bring both of you with me, but I can’t. I also can’t choose between you. Patrick, I know you’re my retainer, and that should take priority in most cases. Jin, however, just got healed by his patron visage and has a good chance to earn that visage’s favor here. This isn’t just about me.”
Patrick nodded to that. “Yeah, I get it. But someone has to make a call.”
They flipped a coin. Jin won the toss.
Patrick sighed. “You just take care of each other in there. I wouldn’t forgive myself if you’re hurt.”
I nodded. “We will. I promise.”
Promises are so much easier to make than they are to keep.
Chapter XIX — Borrowed Memories
My first order of business was to prepare for climbing the tower. That meant getting supplies.
I headed over to the Climber’s Court, trusting that Lars would offer me some sage advice to accompany his sometimes-absurd prices. It was evening by the time I arrived — hours after the attack — but I could still see smoke rising from buildings only a few streets down.
I hadn’t realized just how close the shop had been to the tower.
The Court hadn’t been hit directly by the Hero’s End, but the doors and walls were marked with huge gouges. A large chunk of the eastern wall was completely missing.
Through the crack, I could see Lars sweeping broken glass into a dust pan. His face was sunken into a deep frown of dejection, and a bright red wound was exposed across his left arm.
I couldn’t stand seeing him that miserable. I walked around to the front door, opening it.
Lars startled at the sound, reaching for a hatchet on his belt and drawing it in a swift motion. Fortunately, he recognized me before he threw the thing, his expression softening. “Corin. You shouldn’t be ‘ere! It’s not safe.”
I chuckled. “Oh, believe me, I know. I’ve actually got a story for you for a change. Or, I will when I get back.”
He gave me his fiercest frown. “Back? I don’t like the sound of that, lad. What sort of nonsense are you up to now?”
I grinned. “It’s a bit of a secret. But, uh, hypothetically speaking… if I was going into the tower, what would you recommend that I bring?”
He set the broom and dust pan aside, folding his arms — which just gave me a closer look at his injured arm. I walked closer, slipping the ring off my finger and offering it to him. “Your arm’s cut up pretty good there. Put this on for a bit. Regeneration ring.”
He accepted the ring, turning it over in his hands for a moment with a frown before slipping it onto the pinky finger of his injured arm. “This is a Citrine-level item, lad. Where’d you pick it up? You shouldn’t just be handing something this valuable out to anyone.”
“Uh, not exactly mine. I’m borrowing it from Professor Orden. Possibly forever, depending on how things go.”
He laughed. “Borrowing it forever, eh? Seems like a good deal. I suppose I’ll borrow it in turn, but not for quite as long. Maybe half as long.”
“Seems reasonable. So, suggestions?”
He looked down at me, narrowing his brows. “You’re serious.”
I nodded gravely. “Completely serious.”
“Best suggestion? Don’t go until you’re at least Carnelian. You need a shroud to keep yourself safe in there.”
I tilted my head to the side. “A shroud? Isn’t that a Guardian thing?”
He waved a hand to show partial agreement. “Not quite. Everyone who hits Carnelian or above gets a shroud. You’re an Enchanter. That’s the aura you see when you look at them.”
“So, it’s just another name for an aura, then?”
“No, it’s more specific. There are lots of types of auras — you might have an aura of fire around you because of an item, for example. A shroud is your personal aura — it comes from mana leaking right out of you. That’s not a bad thing, though. It protects you, like a barrier that’s always on.”
That did sound useful — and it helped explain why powerful attuned were so resilient. Maybe that was how Keras survived being slammed into a pillar by Katashi?
“Okay, and I presume the stronger the attuned, the stronger the shroud?”
“Aye, and the more control you get over it. Guardians are specialists at using their shroud, as you mentioned. That’s why even Quartz Guardians have one. They develop them earlier and learn more tricks, like focusing the shroud over a specific part of the body to punch someone really hard.”
I scratched my chin. “Good to know. What can higher level attuned do with their shroud?”
“All sorts of things. The most important is that Sunstones learn to suppress their shroud. That makes it so Enchanters like yourself and Diviners can’t tell how powerful they are at a glance. Terrible idea if you might get into a fight, since the shroud actually gets weaker. It’s not just hidden. Many powerful attuned keep their shroud suppressed most of the time to make it harder to gauge their strength.”
I nodded. That helped explain why I could never get a good read on some of the people I’d looked at, like Professor Orden or Derek. Orden could have easily been explained by using illusions — she was a Shadow after all — but Derek seemed combat focused. He was probably just hiding his power the same way that most nobles hid their hands with a glove.
Lars continued. “Beyond that? I’ve heard of Citrines extending their shroud to cover other people, or reshaping them the way a Guardian can from the beginning. Not sure what else they can do — never got past Sunstone myself.”
“Okay. Let’s assume I don’t have time to hit Carnelian - but I’ll try. What else should I bring?”
“A backpack. Food that’s easy to store. Water — ideally an item that will make water for you. Plan for a week. It usually takes two to three days to find an exit, but you want to be prepared for worse situations. Oh, and extra socks.”
I blinked. “Extra…socks?”
“You never can have too many extra socks. Don’t doubt me on this. You’ll regret it if you do.” He nodded sagely.
The wound on his arm was already starting to visibly glow and scab over — that ring worked faster than I’d expected. I’d definitely need that ring in the tower, too — presuming Orden didn’t take it away from me.
“Okay. Any particular magical items you’d recommend? Be direct with me — I’ll buy something from you if you say that I need it, presuming I can afford it.”
“I can give you some recommendations. What’s your price range?”
I’d saved up quite a bit over the last couple months by making my own supplies. I had about eighty silver on me — far more than I’d ever carried in the past, aside from when I’d bought the supplies needed for Sera’s summoning-enhancement gauntlet.
In a better situation, I would have used that money to buy supplies to make myself something — but I didn’t have time.
“I have eighty silver. I intend to spend as much of it as necessary here right now.”
Lars gave me a serious look, nodding slowly. “I’ll put together a few things for you.”
I reached out a hand. “Gimmie that broom, then we’ll look at items afterward.”
He reluctantly surrendered the tool, and I worked on finishing sweeping the glass into a manageable pile. After that, we swept it into a bag for disposal. There wasn’t much we could do about the wall, so I helped him drape a tapestry over the hole.
I left the shop with the ring back in my possession, ten silver in my pocket, and more than three hundred silver worth of items.
In exchange, I’d made him a promise—
I’d be back to shop there again soon.
* * *
Back at my apartment, I set down my newly-acquired items. It was time to take a full inventory and pack.
Of the options Lars had offered me, I’d picked out a single item that I considered essential: a real, functional return bell like the ones we’d used during our tests. According to him, it wouldn’t work in certain rooms in the tower — apparently they had varying degrees of protection against teleportation — but it would work in some of them.
I’d considered picking up something with more of a direct combat application or something to enhance my attunement, but honestly? Getting out of this with my friends and myself alive was my highest priority.
One important thing was that unlike the ones we’d used during the test, this return bell would require channeling a considerable amount of gray mana into it to activate.
This was good, in some respects. I didn’t want to ring the bell accidentally while I was walking and end up by myself outside. But it did mean that it might take an extra second or two to activate the item, and I knew that could be dangerous. I’d have to be ready for that.
The return bell came along with a second item - a metal rod that served as an anchor for the bell’s teleportation destination. I hadn’t seen anything like that during our tests, but presumably they’d had something similar built into the main room. My current plan was either to leave the pole in my room or to plant it just outside the tower. I’d probably talk to Professor Orden before deciding.
After I’d picked up the bell and rod, he’d “sold” me three more items that he considered essential — a flask that refilled itself with ordinary drinking water every four hours, a cloak that regulated the wearer’s body temperature, and a mana-powered lantern that generated heatless light.
They all sounded more like camping supplies to me than preparation for a dangerous journey in the tower, but when I considered that the average tower journey lasted days, it made a lot of sense. Moreover, the lantern would be handy in any pitch black rooms similar to the one we’d encountered in our first test.
Even accounting for his usually-inflated prices, I owed Lars quite a bit for practically forcing the things on me. If I made it out of this alive, I’d find a way to repay him eventually.
Aside from that, I’d picked up a large ordinary backpack. I stuffed the cloak inside along with the lantern.
After that, I packed a couple extra sets of clothes… and several extra pairs of socks, as Lars had insisted.
After that, enchanting supplies. I didn’t have a lot of gems left. Just a handful of Class 1 gray ones, a Class 1 mind gem, and the Class 2 universal gem. Better than nothing. I packed my engraving rod and my etching rod, just in case.
Finally, food. I attached a bedroll to the bottom of the backpack. I’d do without a sleeping bag or pillow. There wasn’t room for other large items.
The supplies I was more likely to need immediately went into my normal belt pouch. Those started with the book that put me in contact with the Voice of the Tower. I didn’t plan to show it off to the others, but I wanted it handy in case of an emergency.
I stuffed the demi-gauntlet in my side bag, along with my ten remaining silver coins. Finally, the bell, along with the anchor rod that went along with it. I really hoped I wouldn’t have to use it, but given my luck? It was probably more a question of when I’d need to evacuate.
After a bit of consideration, I put the self-refilling waterskin in my side pouch, and then stuffed the waterskin containing the enchanted water I’d taken from the tower in my backpack. I did not want to mix those up.
I had two shield sigils now. The school-issued one went on my uniform as usual, and the phoenix sigil I’d made for myself went onto my pants to prevent them from interfering with each other.
I’d considered making a third, but that ran a much greater risk of interfering with all three. I’d probably get that sorted out eventually, but I didn’t have time to experiment.
I kept the ring of regeneration on. I’d need to ask Orden about how long it was safe to use it.
While I was thinking about the ring, I inspected the runes on it. They were etched on the inside of the band; it looked like delicate work. The ring had to be made of some kind of rare material to hold that amount of mana in such a small object.
Most of the runes weren’t ones I was familiar with, so I looked them up. There were two fairly standard life runes: one for the actual healing effect, and another to cause the ring to naturally recharge. Next to them, a life mana capacity rune to prevent the recharging rune from overflowing it.
Another couple runes required mental mana. I presumed one was for detecting the user’s injuries. I recognized the one next to it, which was designed to recharge the mental mana required for the other rune. The next one was probably a mental mana capacity rune, but it was a slightly different design from the one I usually used — probably because it was for a higher capacity.
The last one I recognized even more easily: a standard activation rune that required the user to channel gray mana into it. Unlike the variant used on dueling canes, this required the mana to come from the person wearing the ring.
All in all, it was simple enough to make, it just required too much mana for me to fabricate one on my own. I also didn’t have any life mana crystals.
After finishing my research on the ring, I took my mana watch, too. I never left home without it these days.
I checked my mana before putting the watch away. 48/48. Apparently, yesterday’s exertions had helped me improve a bit. I was still a ways off from Carnelian, though. Most people seemed to reach Carnelian at around 60 mana. I’d have to survive without a shroud for a while longer.
Before leaving, I briefly unpacked my book to write a quick message to the Voice of the Tower. I didn’t know when I’d get another chance.
Dear Voice of the Tower,
I’m preparing to head back to the tower along with Professor Orden.
If we’re successful, we’ll be bringing Vera along with us. Katashi has asked me to turn her over to him, and if I fail to do so, he’ll be sending a stronger attack against the city.
In order to ensure the safety of the city, I must succeed.
Any assistance you could provide would be greatly appreciated. If nothing else, please make sure someone else succeeds if I fail.
Best,
Corin
Finally, I had to pick which sword to take with me. Selys-Lyann was tempting, since it was clearly the more powerful and versatile weapon — but it did have that nasty downside of nearly killing me on occasion.
My self-enchanted sword was much safer to use, but I didn’t know if it would be enough to handle the strongest monsters we might run into.
So, I brought both.
I wasn’t planning to wield them both at the same time, of course. I was nowhere near dexterous enough for that. I’d just hand one or the other off to Sera or Jin, since they didn’t have any magical weapons.
Well, that wasn’t completely accurate. I’d enchanted Jin’s revolvers, so they were technically magical weapons. But they had limited ammunition, so he might still want the sword.
I felt a little awkward walking to the Divinatory with two scabbards bouncing on my hips. I’d need to get rid of one of these things sooner, rather than later.
* * *
As I approached the Divinatory, Jin opened the door from inside and waved for me to enter.
I blinked. Had I told him what time I was heading over here? I was pretty sure I hadn’t.
Maybe his real attunement was Diviner, or something similar from Dalenos. I think they had one called “Seer”, maybe? Or “Oracle”? Something like that.
It didn’t matter at the moment.
Having Jin present was probably going to be a benefit. He’d provide me with another set of eyes to search and another voice to ask questions.
I nodded to him and he silently fell into step behind me. We headed inside.
I’d been in the Divinatory before, but I’d never been back to the archives. Fortunately, Jin seemed to know the way. I waved at a few other students and faculty as we headed toward the back of the building.
The other people present seemed exhausted and a little dazed. I didn’t blame them, considering the events of the day before. I hadn’t slept well, either.
“This is it.” Jin pointed at a double-door with a single large lock at the back of the facility. I inserted the key, turning it and sliding the doors open.
The archive was a room of clinical whites and sterile grays. It was structured like a library, with dozens of rows of long shelves, but only a few of them contained books. Most of the shelves were stacked to near-overflow with boxes of file folders, and a few other shelves carried fist-sized memory crystals.
The room’s most unusual feature, however, was the shimmering blue-skinned woman hovering over a platform in the center. Aside from the blue skin, she looked mostly human. She had long brown hair and wore a tailored suit that was a shade darker than her skin.
The platform was marked with numerous runes, some more familiar than others. I thought it was a barrier at a first glance, but it took me a moment to realize it wasn’t to keep danger out.
It was to keep her inside.
She turned toward us as we entered, grinning cheerfully and waving. “Ooh, new visitors! Come in, come in!”
I turned to Jin, giving him a confused glance. He shrugged and we stepped in.
I waved at the trapped woman. “Uh, hello. I’m Corin.”
She blinked, her eyes turning pure white when she reopened them. After a few moments of staring, her pupils slowly reappeared. The effect was…disconcerting. “Corin Cadence. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Researcher 437-C. How can I be of service today?”
I took a step closer, tilting my head to the side. “Are you trapped in there?”
She laughed — or at least, I thought she did. The sound was too high pitched to be human, somewhere in between a chuckle and some kind of exotic bird call. “No, no, silly. This…” She knelt and tapped the platform. “Provides me with mana. It’s powered by the crystals in the sides, so please don’t touch those!”
Jin stepped forward. “Is that Caelish technology? Are you some kind of automaton?”
She turned toward Jin, a confused expression on her face. “Oh, hello. I barely noticed you there! Uh, yes to your first question, no to the second. I’m what you would call a summoned monster… Although I don’t really like the second part. A little cruel, don’t you think?”
Jin gave a noncommittal grunt in reply.
“I agree,” I chimed in. “You’re intelligent, and you don’t seem particularly monstrous. Is there a term you’d prefer? Summoned person, perhaps?”
She raised a finger to her lips. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Maybe next time you visit, I’ll have an answer for you!”
I nodded. “In the meantime, I could use some help. I take it you oversee this facility?”
“Sure do! I know it backwards and forwards. Well, the center part, at least.” She grinned. “The rest, a little less, but still pretty well.”
I waved at the platform. “Is that because you can’t leave the middle?”
“I can, but only when I have an external power source. Usually, that means when my Summoner is here to provide me with mana. Some other forms of mana can keep me stable for a time, but it’s usually safest for me to stay here.”
I scratched my chin. “Just how long have you been here?”
“Oh, I’ve been working at this facility for about three years now. It’s quite nice!”
I blinked. I’d never heard of a summoned…person being summoned for anywhere near that long. Most summons only lasted for minutes to hours, as far as I could tell. “That’s very impressive. I’ve never heard of anyone like you. Can I ask where you’re from?”
She beamed, stretching her arms. “Weeeeell, that’s a bit of a long story. Researchers are core elements for the function of each of the Shifting Spires. Normally, we don’t come in contact with people… but someone was clever enough to find us, and made a pact with me! Or, original me, anyway.”
“I don’t suppose you could tell me where they found you, or who your Summoner is?”
She shook her head.
“Okay,” I continued. “What should we call you?”
“Oh, just Researcher is fine. That’s what everyone calls me. People keep offering to let me pick a name, but I don’t really see a point. Researcher describes my function accurately.”
I nodded. I could see the logic there. “Okay, Researcher. As it happens, we’re here to do some research.”
“Perfect!” She clasped her hands together. “How can I help you?”
“Well, I suppose we should start by looking for anything regarding Keras Selyrian.”
Her eyes flashed white again. “Keras Selyrian. Records and memory crystals are in row 14-F, third shelf, toward the center.” She waved to her right. “It’s over here, three shelfs down from where I’m standing.”
“Thanks.” I followed her directions, walking past row after row of boxes. Each box had a slat beneath it with a brief description of the contents. It looked like it’d been organized alphabetically by the first word. I found “Keras Seleryan” between “Keldyn Aendys” and “Kerran Vallir”.
I picked up the box eagerly. It was completely empty.
I went back to Researcher. “The box is empty. Do people usually take things out of here?”
Her eyes widened for a moment. “No one is supposed to remove anything from the archive without authorization. There wasn’t any given to take the files on Keras.”
Jin raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure of that?”
She turned toward him, blowing a hair out of the way of her mouth before speaking. “Uh, yes. If someone had given permission, they’d have to tell me about it. And I’m a Researcher. I have perfect recall of everything I’ve ever experienced.”
An eidetic memory? Or something even more advanced?
Hrm. That could be useful.
“Do you recall anyone else looking for his files, then?”
She nodded. “Yes, several people have. But not for several months now.”
Interesting. They could have been stolen a while ago, then. “Who was the last person you remember taking a look at information on Keras?”
She frowned. “I’m afraid I’m not authorized to answer that question.”
Of course not. That’d be far too easy.
I glanced at Jin. He shook his head.
Okay, it wasn’t Jin. Fair enough.
Besides, I returned the memory crystal he’d taken. That should be here even if Jin was the one that took everything else. That means someone took everything at some point after I returned the crystal.
I sighed. “Okay. We can check some other things, then.”
Researcher perked right back up. “Excellent! What else?”
“How about Vera Corrington?”
Researcher pointed to her right again. “Further down. Row 22-D. No memory crystals on her, but we do have a few files.”
I found her files without incident. Well, some files, anyway. I had no way of knowing if there had been others that might have been stolen at some point.
I handed half the stack to Jin and we walked back to Researcher. “Anywhere we can sit to look at these?”
“Toward the back of the room, left corner.”
We followed her instructions, found chairs, and sat.
The first thing I found was a copy of a Caelford Passport. In specific, a Diplomatic Passport indicating she was here in Valia on government business. I wondered why we had a copy of it here. Maybe this Divinatory served as a general information repository for the whole city?
That document didn’t have anything specific on why she was there, but there were several other type-written pages in the folder.
One of them was a copy of her documentation for entering the Serpent’s Tower. Glancing over that was much more enlightening.
Name: Vera Corrington
Age: 26
Ethnicity: Caelford
Attunements: Analyst
Reason for Entering Tower: Accompanying multi-national climber force for confidential research: Code Q-STN.
There was a bit more info on there, but nothing nearly as interesting as her reason for going in there. I’d have to see if I could find out more about that research project.
I showed Jin that page. He just said, “Interesting,” and went back to his own reading.
I dug a little further, finding a list of the people who had accompanied her into the tower. Lawrence Gold, Rochelle Gold, Carter Bishop, Echion Valden, and one name that I actually recognized: Elora Theas.
That’s the Summoner that was feuding with Derek, and also the same Theas that was in the Council of Lords with my mother. Could she be the one who’s preventing Vera from being arrested? If she’s a council member, she’d probably have sufficient influence.
House Theas was an old family. They were one of the founding families of the city, much like House Hartian. I didn’t know how far their influence extended, but either she or one of her relatives was definitely a council member.
I pointed her out to Jin. He seemed more interested this time. “If House Theas is involved with whatever this research was, you’re going to be in for some trouble.”
I rubbed my temples. “More than I’m already in?”
“You’d be surprised. Still, we should dig into this more. I haven’t found anything of interest in this pile. I’ll go see if I can find anything on Elora Theas or that code name.”
I nodded, continuing to read more about Vera. I found references to her coming into the city with her brother — Aloras — so I’d been right on that regard.
More references to that secret project, but nothing concrete on what it was about, or if she had any sort of sponsors.
Jin sat back down a few minutes later with a new stack of papers. “Researcher informed me that we’re not authorized to know about that secret project, so she couldn’t help. She did point me at the files on Elora Theas, though.”
We dug through those. Elora Theas was a Lorian Heights graduate and long-time climber. There were records of dozens of visits she’d made to the Serpent Spire, as well as at records of her leaving the country to visit other spires. That meant she might have foreign attunements in addition to local ones.
Derek had accompanied her in many of the tower visits with earlier dates. Those seemed to have stopped… right before the time Elora had entered the tower with Vera.
Now that was interesting.
I’d known they had some sort of falling out. Could it have been directly connected to whatever this secret project was?
I’d have to tell Professor Orden about this; it seemed like a potentially significant lead.
I did have one final thing to look into before we left, though.
I returned the files that I’d been reading through to their proper places and walked back to Researcher. “Can you direct me to any files on Tristan Cadence?”
She grinned. “Of course! They’d be in Row 20-A.”
I withdrew the single file with a shaking hand.
Name: Tristan Cadence
Age: 17
Ethnicity: Valia
Attunements: None
Reason for Entering Tower: Judgment
And I read further.
Date of Entrance: 4-13-55
Date of Exit: Not Applicable
Status: Presumed Deceased
It hurt to see the words, even though they didn’t differ in any way from what I’d expected.
There were other pages in the file — old records from his schools, a record of his pre-Judgment practice test…which had been a rousing success.
He’d been brilliant, from everything I could see. Physically fit, amazing grades in all of his classes.
How had he failed?
There were no hints here. No signs of any conspiracy. No records pointing at secret projects or hidden agendas.
Just another ordinary seventeen year old, lost to the tower.
I set the files back in the box and walked back to Jin. “Let’s go.”
He set his own papers down. “I did find something else, actually.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“One of the records on Elora referenced her leaving an item at this facility for research. Could be connected to this secret project.”
I grinned. “Nice find. What is it?”
“Files called it the Jaden Box. Let’s go ask Researcher about it.”
We put Jin’s files back and moved back to the center of the room.
Researcher was floating in a cross-legged sitting position, and rotated toward us as we approached. “Oh, hello again! I trust you found everything you needed?”
Jin nodded. “For the most part, although I did find an unusual reference. What can you tell us about the Jaden Box?”
Researcher’s eyes did the creepy white thing again. “Jaden Box. Attributed to Wrynn Jaden, sorceress of the Pre-Attunement Period. Artifact demonstrates remarkable storage and summoning capabilities beyond the scale of all other known items. Deposited here by Elora Theas on 6-12-51. Research in progress.”
Jin nodded. “Is the box connected to this secret research project Q-STN?”
Researcher shook her head. “Unrelated. The box is simply a powerful item. It is not classified as secret.”
“What does it do, exactly?” Jin continued.
“The box is capable of storing items that appear to be too large to fit inside an extra-planar space. In addition, when an object is placed inside and a specific command word is used, it is capable of performing a summoning spell that will attempt to summon the person connected to the object.”
My eyes widened. “What are the restrictions on that?”
Researcher turned to me. “No known distance limitations. This summoning effect appears to be capable of bypassing most, if not all, anti-teleportation limitations. Lead Researcher Orden has placed an additional external seal on the box to prevent reckless tests, such as attempting to summon visages, which she deemed to have potentially catastrophic consequences.”
No distance limitations.
Could I summon Tristan with it?
I’d need an item strongly connected to him. I had a few things in my room that had belonged to him, but I wouldn’t want to risk the chance they’d fail. I was confident I could find something at home, though. Maybe even a brush that still had some of his hair?
It sounded so…easy. So much easier than trying to climb to the top of the tower.
Would it work if he was dead?
I’d need to find out more about this.
Researcher had mentioned Lead Researcher Orden, meaning Professor Orden was studying it.
I’d seen the box before. It had been in her drawer, and I’d marked down the few runes I could remember.
I scratched my chin. “Is the Jaden Box in this facility right now?”
Researcher nodded. “Yes, although access to the item is restricted to members of Lead Researcher Orden’s team.”
I raised the key that Orden gave me. “As it happens, we work for Professor Orden.”
Not strictly a lie, but I felt a little bad for the deception.
Jin gave me a raised eyebrow, but Researcher just beamed at me. “Of course! It’s in a box labeled Lyras Orden on row 15-C. Be advised to follow all of the instructions with the attached documentation. Also, the box is inside a safe. The safe code is 13-9-63.”
Sorry, Professor Orden. You were the one who encouraged me to break in here and take what I needed.
I found the box, Jin following close behind me. “Are you certain this is wise?”
I glanced back at him. “No, but this could give us a considerable amount of safety if things go badly. For example, if we step into the tower and we can’t find Katashi, maybe we could find something connected to him and use this to summon him.”
Jin nodded. “I see the logic, but we should save that for a last resort. It is clear that using the box on a visage could have dangerous consequences.”
“Orden should have a better idea of how safe it would be. We can ask her if things get desperate enough that the box seems necessary. For the moment, we’ll be discrete.”
He put a hand over his forehead. “That’s part of the problem. You don’t think she’s going to notice you took it?”
I shrugged. “I’ve got so much magic stuff at this point that I doubt she’ll notice the aura on it standing out. I’ll only take it out in emergencies. If she does figure out that I took it, I’ll just refer back to her earlier desire for Whisper candidates to show initiative.”
Jin sighed. “Fine. But we’re putting it back when we’re done.”
That was just vague enough that I could agree to it. “Sure.”
We found a safe inside the box, along with research notes, just as Researcher had indicated. I skimmed through the notes first.
Jaden Box
Object Classification: Artifact, Miscellaneous
Attunement Level: Unknown; exhibits properties that exceed Emerald capabilities
Description: The Jaden Box is believed to be a creation of the legendary sorceress Wrynn Jaden. It demonstrates forms of Pre-Attunement Period sorcery that cannot be easily duplicated in the modern period. To date, we have discovered three of the box’s functions.
First, if the word “Store” is spoken aloud while in physical contact with the box, and followed by another word or short phrase that describes the object, any object placed inside the box within the next ten second period will be transported to an extra-planar space.
When the box is open and the command, “Retrieve” is given, followed by a phrase corresponding to an item that has been stored, the stored item will be teleported out of the extra-planar space and appear directly above the box. Fortunately, large objects will be shunted out of the way if there are people in the space above the box; this has saved more than one researcher from being inadvertently killed by teleportation fragmentation.
There are some restrictions on what can be stored; see research document ENX-4.
The third function of the box is the most dangerous and thus additional limitations have been placed on the box through the creation of an outer shell (see shell diagram). When an item is placed inside the box and is not stored in the extra-planar space, the command “Summon” can be used, followed by the name of an individual with a strong connection to the item. For example, a vial of Professor Lyras Orden’s blood was successfully used to summon her from the base of the Serpent Spire to the research laboratory.
Early studies indicate that the connection utilized by the box to summon an individual appears to be a mana signature. This means that any object that stores some of the mana of an individual, such as magical items created by the individual, should potentially be usable as a summoning focus.
Studies on this object have been restricted for two reasons. One, the unclear limitations have been a cause for concern that a researcher could inadvertently summon a powerful entity that may take issue with being summoned (e.g. one of the visages).
The second reason is that the summoning spell consumes a vast amount of air and transference mana; in specific, we approximate that the discharge is roughly twenty thousand mana of each type.
While the box does recharge its mana over time, it does so at a rate consistent with standard Sunstone-level items, regaining approximately one hundred mana per day. Thus, the summoning effect can only be used roughly once every two hundred days.
I wasn’t able to analyze everything about the box, but I was able to sense the mana within it. There was a lot. Thousands at least. I tried checking it with my mana watch, but it didn’t register anything. The watch wasn’t designed to interact with other items, and even if it was, this was a strange enough object that it might not have worked either way.
More importantly, I was able to detect that the box wasn’t currently recharging. That meant it already had a full charge of mana and could be used at any time.
I scanned over the rest of the research. The diagrams of the runes were fascinating — I’d want to learn more about them later — but for now, I didn’t have time. I was supposed to be meeting Professor Orden outside shortly.
The limitations on the box meant that I wasn’t going to be able to pick up just any old thing that Tristan had owned and throw it in there to summon him. I was already thinking of options, though. If hair from a brush didn’t work, maybe one of my parents had kept some of his baby teeth?
I’d find something. This was the best lead I’d ever found.
I wanted desperately to drop everything and pursue it immediately, but first, I had people to save. Tristan wouldn’t forgive me if I ran home and summoned him if it meant risking other lives — possibly thousands of lives — in the process.
The safe combination worked. I pocketed the Jaden Box.
It was time to go meet with Professor Orden.
* * *
Professor Orden was waiting outside when Jin and I left the Divinatory. She was a little early, which wasn’t a huge surprise. Her company, on the other hand, was unexpected.
Derek Hartigan stood to her right side, a heavy backpack resting at his feet.
I glanced to him, then back to Orden. “What’s this?”
Derek grinned, reaching down with a hand to heft his pack over a shoulder. “Looks like you’re going to get one more chance to see me shine.”
I waved my hands in frantic dismissal. “No, no. Not happening. Where’s Teft?”
Orden rolled her eyes. “Not coming. He sends his regards, but the vice chancellor forbade him from coming with us. Apparently, he’s dealing with internal mana burns from the last time he went with you.”
I winced, remembering Teft blocking the shockwave from the Hero’s End.
That single attack had forced him to overuse his mana enough to cause internal burns? That’s…absurd. Just how powerful is that monster?
I sighed. “Fine. I hope he recovers soon. But shouldn’t we be bringing another professor along?”
Derek grimaced. “Hey, I get that you’re angry about that whole Survival Match bit—”
I glared at him. “You could have gotten Sera seriously hurt.”
He raised his hands defensively. “I would have made sure she was safe, believe me. Would have jumped straight back into the arena if she was in real danger, rules or no. I apologize. I should have been clearer about the situation up front.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not the one who you need to apologize to.”
He nodded. “Of course. I’ll apologize to Sera when I see her. But let me do something more than that. I’ll make it up to you both. I put her in danger once, minimal as it might have been — but this time, I’ll keep you safe.”
I clenched and unclenched a hand in the air. “I appreciate the effort, but I still fail to see why you’re a better option than bringing another professor along.”
Derek glanced from side to side, his expression turning more serious than I’d seen it. “Look at me for a second. Really look.”
I knew what he meant. I shifted my attunement on.
He had a light red shroud, a standard aura for a Carnelian…until it began to brighten.
First, to orange.
Then, as the red burned entirely away, to yellow.
And, as my eyes widened, a tinge of blue mingled into the yellow, forming green.
Emerald. Derek was an Emerald.
I took in a deep breath.
For the first time, I could see why he’d been so arrogant about being able to handle the Survival Match alone. He had the strongest aura of any human I’d ever seen.
That was not as reassuring as it should have been.
I’d just seen his former partner’s name on the list of people who had gone into the tower with Vera.
Was that incident why they were feuding? Did Derek know something? Was he involved?
He hadn’t actually been one of the ones on the list to go into the tower himself…but then again, there was nothing that would have prevented him from going in just a bit earlier or later.
This was important, but I couldn’t think of an easy excuse to slip back into the archives to research him. I should have done it the moment Elora’s name had come up, but I hadn’t thought he’d be quite this closely involved.
I closed my eyes, disabling my attunement. “I can see what you mean.”
“Keep that to yourself, please. A good number of people already know, but I try not to draw too much attention.”
I nodded, my eyes reopening. I could see why keeping that degree of power secret was a big deal. It could draw a lot of unwanted attention, and given how powerful Emeralds were, I suspected they might be considered military assets.
That also raised the question of whether or not Derek was involved with whoever had been talking to Katashi before and keeping Vera’s location concealed.
I had a few options at this point and I didn’t like any of them.
I reopened my eyes. “I’ll be willing to take you along if Sera doesn’t have an objection. Let me talk to her about it privately first.”
Professor Orden folded her arms. “We don’t have time for distractions. Derek is, whether I like it or not, our best chance at completing this assignment safely.”
“We need to pick Sera up before we go confront Vera in either case. Can you teleport us to her room? I’ll make the conversation quick.”
“Fine. What dorm is she in?”
“Tortoise Female #14.” I stepped in closer, formulating the first bits of a plan.
This was going to more complicated than I hoped.
We formed a circle, and once again, my head swam as Orden teleported us.
At least I didn’t have a concussion this time.
* * *
Sera opened the door to her room. I stepped inside. The others were all standing outside the building, idly chatting. Or maybe plotting my doom. Possibly both.
I raised a finger in a gesture for Sera to be quiet, then set down my backpack and withdrew my etching rod.
As she watched with a raised eyebrow, I channeled a bit of mana into the rod and carved a noise-dampening rune into the door. A bit of gray mana, a bit of transference mana, and the rune was completed.
I didn’t bother writing more runes to set the rune to recharge. I didn’t want to waste the time or mana. I put the etching rod back, more confident now that it would be extraordinarily difficult to hear our conversation outside.
I nodded to Sera. “We can talk now.”
She folded her arms. “Can we start by discussing how much you owe me for wrecking my door?”
I chuckled. “I’ll get it fixed for you when this is all over. But we need to talk.”
Sera tilted her head to the side. “I’d gathered that from the fact that you look like you just found a group of assassins in your breakfast.”
I nodded sagely. “Delicious, but suspicious.”
Sera’s lips twisted into a half-smirk. “That rhyme was a little weak, but I’ll give you credit for effort.”
“Weak? I’d like to see you do better.”
She raised a finger to her chin. “They were vicious and ambitious, but through a turn of fate capricious, one malicious assassin proved seditious, slaying the others in my dishes. Thereafter I discovered they were delicious, and moreover, nutritious.”
…
“You win this round, Sera.”
She bowed at the waist. “Your acknowledgment is judicious.”
I rolled my eyes. “That one was a bit of a stretch. But seriously, we need to talk.”
Sera sat down on her bed next to a large backpack of her own. “Okay, so talk.”
“Teft isn’t coming. Apparently, he’s too badly hurt from exerting himself on our last little mission. They sent Derek Hartigan instead.”
Sera shrugged. “Okay.”
I blinked. “You don’t care?”
“Eh, I don’t appreciate how little information he gave me before dragging me into that whole Survival Match thing, but it was still fun. And he’s obviously a fighter. We could use someone who knows how to use a sword. No offense.”
I nodded. “None taken. That reminds me.” I unbuckled my belt, taking both scabbards off it. “I brought two. You can pick one if you want one.”
“Oh, Patrick is going to be so jealous.”
I blinked. “Why?”
“You didn’t notice? He’s been staring dreamily at your swords for months! He’s obsessed with those things.”
I winced. I really hadn’t been paying enough attention to what my friends were interested in. Now that Patrick was my retainer, I needed to make more of an effort to understand him. “Okay. I’ll definitely need to get him an enchanted sword sometime.”
I shook my head. “In the meantime, though, we’ve got more important matters to discuss. When Jin and I looked into Vera, we found out that Elora Theas — Derek’s former beau — was one of the people who went into the tower with Vera. It’s very likely she’s connected with all this nonsense, which makes it possible that Derek is also connected.”
Sera leaned over, picking up Selys-Lyann and testing the weight, then picked up my other sword and did the same. “And you’re worried he’s going to stab us in the back? Is that it?”
“Yeah. And he’s Emerald, Sera.”
She set the sword down at that, staring at me. “You’re sure?”
I nodded. “Saw his shroud with my attunement. He’s been suppressing it.”
Sera’s hands clenched and unclenched in the air. It was a familiar gesture. I did the same thing when I was stressed. I hadn’t realized she shared the habit. “That makes this rather awkward.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I told him that he could come along if you were okay with it. So, we’ve got an excuse if you want to act more angry about the whole arena thing…”
She shook her head. “No. I think we should keep him close, even if we have suspicions. If we tell him off, he’s free to wreak havoc out of sight. Maybe he goes and gets rid of Vera before we even reach her. Or, if he’s connected to Tenjin’s disappearance, he could even go move Tenjin while we go in the tower — or worse…”
I nodded. “I understand the idea of keeping an eye on him, but if he turns on us in the tower, there’s really nothing we could do against an Emerald. Unless you’re holding out on me. That thing you did with Patrick was a pretty impressive trick.”
Sera grinned. “It was. We’ve been practicing for weeks. Cooperative spells are much stronger than anything we can manage alone.”
“How’d he even help you? I’ve heard of cooperative spells, but wasn’t that an ice spell?”
“Ice and air. Elementalists can cast air spells. So, he supplied the air mana, freeing me up to use all my mana for ice. We pushed as much power as we could into that one spell. But even then, that wouldn’t even be Citrine-class. We couldn’t scratch an Emerald, and I couldn’t cast that spell alone.”
Hrm.
I pointed at Selys-Lyann. “Could you draw mana from an item? Selyss-Lyann has an ice aura.”
She frowned. “I’ve got a limited degree of ability to work with ice from my bond… maybe I could do something with it. Can’t promise it would be as impressive as what Patrick and I could pull off together, but it might be better than what I can do on my own.”
“Okay. You should take that sword, then, provided you don’t mind the curse.”
“Curse?”
“Shopkeeper told me that it’s cursed so that anyone who wields it dies. Probably just a ridiculous legend.”
Sera stared at the sword, then looked back at me. “…you’ve been using a cursed sword this whole time?”
I chuckled. “I don’t think the curse is real. But if you’re worried about it, I can hold onto the sword.”
She picked the sword up. “I’m not as trusting as you are, but if there is a curse… I’ll beat it.”
I grinned. “Okay. So, we’re taking Derek?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Let’s hope we don’t regret it.”
We finished packing Sera’s gear and headed outside to meet the others.
Derek delivered on his promised apology and Sera accepted.
It might have been my imagination, but I got the impression he looked just as suspicious of us as we were of him.
* * *
One more teleport. My stomach lurched as we arrived outside Corrington Carriages.
Derek looked at Professor Orden. “We’re sure she’s in there?”
The professor nodded. “I just scried for her minutes ago. She’ll be in here.”
As I recovered, I realized everyone was looking at me. “What?”
Professor Orden looked at me. “Go on in, Corin. This part is all you.”
“You’re joking.”
Orden gestured to the door. “You’re the one she’s going to recognize. You might be able to talk her into coming along with us peacefully. If anything goes wrong, just give us the signal.”
I frowned. “What signal?”
“Scream loudly.”
I sighed, walking over to the door of the shop. To my surprise — and relief — Jin fell into step beside me. No one commented on it and I wasn’t going to complain.
From the sign on the door, we were arriving during normal business hours, so I didn’t bother knocking. I just opened the door.
The inside of the building was well-lit and doubly well organized. I was shocked to see four complete automobiles in a perfect line, each painted a different color with a small sign in front of it.
Right near the entrance, a dark-skinned young man I didn’t recognize sat at a desk, looking over paperwork. Toward the back of the room, I could see another line of automobiles, but unfinished and unpainted. From the screeching noise coming from the one on the far right, I could tell someone was working on the carriage with some kind of noisy tool, but I couldn’t see them.
I stepped up to the desk. There were chairs on my side for a visitor, but I didn’t take a seat.
The man behind the desk looked up at me. “Good day, sir. Do you have an appointment?”
Ah, a secretary. Fair enough. He’s probably another student like me, looking to make a bit of spending money.
I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. Just here to visit someone.”
“Oh, who?”
Well, I wasn’t exactly planning to tell the whole world this, but… “Vera Corrington. Is she here?”
He nodded immediately and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, lemme go get her for you. Don’t touch anything. Seriously. Aloras will murder you.”
I nodded, glancing at Jin. He shrugged at me.
We waited.
The student headed to the back of the room, and that grinding noise I’d been hearing paused after I heard a few hushed words of conversation.
A moment later, Vera pushed herself out from under the automobile, setting down a long rod that I wasn’t familiar with. She was too far away for me to get a good look at the runes on the side.
Vera’s eyes widened when she saw me. She glanced from side-to-side, searching, before walking over with the secretary at her side.
I put my hands up in a gesture of peace. “Can we talk?”
The secretary glanced at me, then back to Vera. “This guy bothering you, Vera? He must have been able to tell that she looked nervous.
Vera shook her head. “No… I know Corin. Was just surprised to see him here.”
I nodded. “I’ve got something important to talk to you about, Vera. Related to the last time we saw each other.”
Vera sighed. “I should have known it’d come to this eventually.” She turned to the secretary. “John, go tell Aloras that Corin is here, then take the rest of the day off. We need to talk privately.”
John blinked. “If you say so?”
“I do. Aloras should be in the back.”
John nodded and headed toward a back room.
Vera folded her arms once John was out of sight. “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended, but I needed to make sure I got Echion out of there in one piece. You seemed nice, but I didn’t know you or your motives. I still don’t.”
She probably left me behind as a distraction for Katashi. And maybe to buy more time to get further into the city without being reported to the authorities. I wouldn’t have done the same, but she didn’t actually hurt me. And I can’t blame her for distrusting a stranger.
I shrugged in response to her half-hearted apology. “I’m not here about that. We’ve got bigger things to worry about. Give me a second.”
I removed my etching rod and began carving a rune in her door.
“What are you doing? You’re ruining the wood!”
Oh, maybe I should have explained first.
I finished carving the rune, noticing Jin nod out of the corner of my eye, then turned back to Vera.
“Noise-dampening rune. We really don’t want people to hear us. Uh, aside from Jin here. Jin, this is Vera. Vera, Jin.”
Vera sighed. “Fine, fine. Nice to meet you, Jin. What’s this all about?”
I put my rod away, and then slipped off my glove to show her the sigil of Katashi on my right hand. “Katashi has charged me with bringing you to him within the next week, otherwise he’s going to wreck the city.”
Vera reached down for something.
Jin moved faster, a pistol appearing in his hand and pressed up against her chest before I could react. “Don’t even think about it.”
Vera sucked in a sharp breath, putting up her hands in surrender. “I… I can’t go back there. You don’t understand. It’s not just about me.”
I took a moment to process what had just happened, then moved behind Vera and removed the dueling cane from her belt.
My old dueling cane, in fact. I looped it onto my own belt.
“You can lower the gun, Jin. Thank you.”
He lowered the weapon. “If you are certain.”
I turned back to Vera. “I don’t want this to end in bloodshed, Vera. If there’s something I don’t understand, make me understand. I’m willing to listen to your side of things, but one way or another, we need Katashi to be satisfied or he’s going burn this place to the ground.”
She sighed again. “Can I put my hands down?”
Jin stepped forward, nearly eye-to-eye with her. “Reach for another weapon and you lose a hand.”
Vera glowered at him. “I don’t have any other weapons.”
“Good,” Jin replied simply.
Vera lowered her arms and leaned up against a nearby wall. “How much do you know?”
I rolled my eyes. “About seventeen years’ worth, aside from what I’ve forgotten. Can you be more specific?”
“About what really happened in the tower.”
I scratched my chin. “I’ve pieced together a fair bit. You went in the tower with a mixed group. Some people from Caelford, some locals. Something bad obviously happened, and you ended up in that prison with the kid.”
“Echion,” she replied. “He’s… more than just a child.”
I folded my arms. “When you were in the jail cells, you acted like you didn’t even know him.”
She frowned. “Sorry about that. I couldn’t let anyone — especially Keras — realize how important he is to me. And in general.”
“What if that deception had caused me to leave the two of you in there? Or if Keras got impatient and triggered the traps?”
Vera shook her head. “Had to take my chances. There was too much of a chance Keras would have killed Echion outright if he’d known what he was dealing with. Echion wouldn’t have starved, and I doubt the traps would have done much to him.”
She paused for a breath. “Believe me, I thought long and hard about how I was going to behave in order to find the best chance of getting us both out. And that meant trying to get myself out, so I could find a way to free him. You having a second key just made it easier. If you’d just freed Echion and tried to walk out, I suspect Katashi would have just killed you both.”
I nodded. “Why’d Katashi attack him? Was this some kind of coup? Is Echion actually Tenjin?”
Vera shook her head. “No, but it’s not a bad guess.” She took in a deep breath. “Let me start from the beginning. Caelford and Valia have been allies since the Six Year War.”
I remembered the class about that. About eighty years ago, Edria’s army had swept east and conquered the kingdom of Kelridge — now known as “East Edria” — which sat along Valia’s border. They’d continued to push toward Valia, but we put up a better fight.
Caelford was on the opposite side of the continent — the far west side — and bordered West Edria. They were concerned about being Edria’s next target after Valia fell, and had some border skirmishes on their own, so they provided us with advanced weapons during the war. Caelford’s powerful cannons had been a key part of how we were able to hold the numerically superior Edrian army at bay.
I waved a hand. “Sure. And I take it this had something to do with the Edrian forces massing at our borders?”
Vera nodded. “More than you realize. Caelford and Valia have been bracing for another Edrian push for decades. Our spies told us that the time for that assault is finally on the horizon, so we decided to accelerate the timeline on one of our most important research projects.”
Some sort of joint military research between our nations made sense. I nodded for her to continue.
“Our team was put together from some of the best each nation could offer. I was the least experienced, but I had a strong connection with the research subject.”
“The research subject was a person?” I frowned. “Echion, I suppose?”
Jin raised a hand to his temple, looking introspective.
Vera continued. “Yeah. I’m sure you saw the marks on his forehead. We were doing some… unusual research with him. We had a powerful enough group that we assumed we could keep him safe regardless of what we ran into. We weren’t expecting a visage.”
I folded my arms, considering. “Katashi or Tenjin?”
“Tenjin. One of the members of our group cast what sounded like an ordinary summoning spell, but Tenjin arrived instead of the summoned monster. Showed up with an entourage. Told us that what we were doing was extraordinarily dangerous, that we were dabbling with powers beyond our comprehension… that sort of thing. Commanded us to stand down and surrender. And, you know, I think we would have. Probably.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“His entourage stabbed him in the back — almost literally. One of ‘em put a hand on his back. Blasted a hole in his chest. Didn’t kill Tenjin, but it certainly startled him. I guess the traitor realized that a shroud doesn’t protect someone from attacks that come from inside the shroud.”
Jin bristled. “A visage could not be harmed so easily.”
Vera shrugged. “Just telling you what I saw. Anyway, that traitor — woman in a dark mask — kept pummeling Tenjin. The other member of the entourage went for us. Tall bastard, crazy good with a sword. Echion probably could have handled him, but our Summoner hit Echion with some kind of binding spell. Pinned him to the ground.”
I sighed. “This Summoner. Was that Elora Theas, by any chance?”
She tightened her jaw. “Yeah, that’s the bitch’s name. You know her?”
I thought back to the fight between Keras and the Council of Lords. Elora had tried to chain Keras down, probably with the same spell she’d used on Tenjin. Keras had broken out almost instantly.
I nodded. “Yeah. Or, I know of her, anyway. So, she turned on your group and helped the people who were attacking?”
“Yeah. It was obvious this was a planned ambush. Rochelle and Lawrence put up a good fight, but that swordsman was just too much. Must have been an Emerald. Even three Citrines couldn’t stand up against him. Tenjin was starting to recover, but then Elora laid into him with her magic, too. Managed to pin him down like she did with Echion, then that masked woman knocked Tenjin out.”
That… sounded insane. The idea of a group of humans managing to incapacitate a visage — even if they accomplished it through the element of surprise — it was mind-boggling.
Then again, I’d seen Keras manage to hold Katashi at bay in a straight fight.
And Tenjin was the Visage of Inspiration. He wasn’t known for his combat abilities. It was possible that he was considerably weaker in a direct confrontation than someone like Katashi would be.
Something she said earlier scratched at the back of my mind, though. “Why do you think Echion might have been able to handle the situation if he hadn’t been incapacitated?”
Vera winced. “You saw that mark on his forehead, yeah?”
I nodded and another piece of the puzzle slid into place. “You’re experimenting with making artificial attunements, aren’t you?”
Vera ran a hand through her hair. “Been doing that for decades. This was… a little more advanced than that. I won’t bombard you with theory, but the point is that Tenjin was right. It’s incredibly dangerous work.”
She paused, taking a breath, then continued. “We were bringing Echion into the tower to test him against monsters. We tried smaller tests at home, of course, but we needed something closer to real combat. If the test had succeeded, we’d have had a weapon that might have been strong enough to prevent a war.”
I could understand the logic behind that. In fact, I was very interested in the subject of artificially creating attunements myself.
If there was a way to give anyone power — and the power they wanted, not just what the goddess chose to give them — we could work toward a society with vastly better efficiency and quality of life for everyone.
Elementalist farmers could make rain for their own crops. Shaper blacksmiths could create tools and weapons with less effort and better quality results. Summoner couriers could teleport from place to place, saving tremendous amounts of time and effort.
There were already some people doing all these things, but most attuned were bound tightly to the military or similar pursuits. And, of course, only those people who were both wealthy enough to take the test and lucky enough to succeed managed to earn attunements. Most farmers never even stood a chance at getting one. Marissa’s family probably had to save up for years just to get her a shot at taking the test.
I could see problems with giving attunements to everyone, of course. The Judgments might have served as some sort of vetting process to determine who would be safe enough to carry one without causing harm to others, and the school education afterward served a second step in that process.
Moreover, two years of proper training meant it was less likely that an Elementalist would accidentally set a farm on fire or do something equally catastrophic.
I was optimistic that a society equipped to create attunements could find a way to make it work. It was something I wanted to research on my own, and if people were already succeeding, I wanted to know more.
The last part of what she said did bother me a little, though. Strong enough to prevent a war? Any individual attuned with that level of power was strong enough to start a war, too — or just cause tremendous damage. I’d need to find out more about that.
“What can you tell me about what you were doing with Echion? Why use a child?”
Vera shook her head. “I’m not going to get into that. It’s a deep secret for a reason. And before you chastise me for it, keep in mind that Tenjin wanted us to stop doing the experiments. I’m pretty confident Katashi wouldn’t want me spreading knowledge about them further.”
I shook my head. “Katashi seemed to want to kill Echion outright. Do you know why?”
Vera shrugged. “I can only speculate that Katashi was strongly opposed to what Echion represented. I doubt the visages are happy with the idea of artificial attunements in general.”
I nodded at that. “Can you tell me anything more about the tests you were planning to run?”
She winced. “I’d really rather not discuss anything that might make Katashi even angrier with me.”
That was pretty disappointing. I wanted to know as much as possible about these tests so I could understand exactly how they worked.
Maybe I could eventually devise safer alternatives?
More importantly, I had some pretty serious moral issues with the idea of testing experimental magic on children — but I didn’t have enough context to know what dangers, if any, the tests might have involved.
I shook my head. “Fine. We can talk about it more later if it becomes necessary. For the moment, though, tell me what happened next.”
“Once Tenjin was out, we tried to fall back, but that swordsman was brutal, and Elora knew all our tricks. She was one of the strongest members of our group in the first place. That masked woman teleported out with Tenjin. That was the last thing I saw before the swordsman knocked me out. Then I woke up in a jail cell.”
I frowned. “Describe the swordsman.”
“Tall, olive skin, brown hair. He had a local accent. He talked with the other traitor and Elora a bit during the fight. Didn’t say too much, but it sounded like he was the one giving orders.”
That brought a couple people to mind. “Any chance it was Keras?”
She shook her head. “Don’t think so. Hair was shorter and lighter. Skin was darker.”
As it turned out, I knew an Emerald-level swordsman who met that description pretty much perfectly. Derek Hartigan.
And he was, of course, standing right outside.
This was going to be awkward.
I’d known from the moment that I’d seen Elora Theas on the list that there was a good chance Derek was involved, too. This wasn’t explicit confirmation, but it made the possibility much more likely.
Keras was still a possibility. Someone as powerful as he was could have had another attunement we weren’t aware of that enabled him to change his appearance. If he had a Shadow Attunement or something similar, he could have changed minor things once he ended up in that cell so that Vera wouldn’t recognize him. I kept that possibility at the back of my mind, but Derek was clearly the more immediate concern.
I put my thoughts together and replied. “Okay. So, Elora betrayed your group for reasons unknown. She probably summoned Tenjin intentionally… but if the goal of her and her compatriots was to attack Tenjin, why bother with all this?”
Vera twisted her lips as she considered that. “Not sure. I assume those two people with her were connected with Tenjin somehow and wanted his attention focused on something else, giving them a chance to attack while he was distracted. Or maybe it’s a political thing. Presumably, they escaped with an unconscious Tenjin — and then I ended up in that jail somehow, along with Echion. Maybe they wanted to make Caelford look responsible for Tenjin’s disappearance?”
I could follow that logic. “To drive a rift between Caelford and Valia. Yeah, that makes sense. Or just to get Katashi to focus his attention on Caelford and Valia while Edria is at our borders… If Katashi sends monsters to attack us because his brother is missing, that gives Edria a window to strike while our forces are defending the university.”
“That’s what I think’s probably happening: a couple Edrian agents trying to get Katashi to wreck this place while they invade. And by ‘trying’, I mean succeeding.” Vera cracked her knuckles. “Unfortunately, there isn’t much we can do about it.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Why not? We could go talk to Katashi. If you explain everything you just told me…”
She shook her head. “Two main problems with that. One, your own government has me under surveillance here. If I go anywhere other than my house or this office, I’m going to get arrested.”
I considered that. Elora is probably the one keeping Vera under observation. I’m a little surprised she hasn’t just had Vera arrested already — or just assassinated. Maybe Elora doesn’t want to bring this issue out into the open? I don’t know enough about the politics within the city’s leadership to speculate deeply.
I wish my mother was here. She might actually be on Elora’s side in this, if that memory crystal was any indication, but at least I could probably get some answers out of her.
Vera raised two fingers, continuing her explanation. “Two, I’m not willing to let Echion get dragged into this any further than he already has been. If I go to Katashi, he could use me to locate Echion here. I’m not okay with that.”
If Echion was already powerful enough that Vera believed he had a chance against an Emerald, I could see why even a visage might be concerned about him… and I could see why Vera wouldn’t want to give him up.
Jin spoke up, surprising me. Vera seemed startled, too. “We can get you into the tower without the government knowing. Your best chance to save yourself is cooperation.”
Vera absently scratched at the wall with her nails. “I’m still not willing to risk Echion suffering further.”
I shook my head. “Echion isn’t Katashi’s focus right now. Even if he was, I think we could convince him to make a deal. He wants his brother to be back safe. If we can convince him that this was probably an Edrian plot to conquer Valia, maybe that’ll be sufficient to turn his attention elsewhere.”
“I don’t like it. Too many uncertainties.” Vera shook her head. “I’m not going in there without a clearer plan.”
I scratched my chin. “What if we offered to teleport Echion to a safe place, where even Katashi might have a hard time finding him?”
“Can’t trust that you aren’t going to put him somewhere your own people are going to study him or hurt him.”
I considered that. “Katashi is going to come after you directly if you don’t go right now, and he’ll have an army of monsters with him. If what you want is to keep Echion safe, you want him as far from you as possible. What if we put him on a train back to Caelford?”
She rubbed her forehead. “I’d have headed back to Caelford with him by now if I could, but your government has people checking up on us. Tell you what, if you can successfully get Echion and my brother on a train to Caelford, and I’m satisfied that they’re not just going to be grabbed by your troops at the next city over, I’ll go with you to the tower.”
I vastly preferred this idea to trying to take Vera by force, even if we could accomplish it. If she cooperated, we had a better chance of talking Katashi down.
Unfortunately, this meant trying to arrange for Echion’s escape while in the company of someone I suspected was involved in the whole conspiracy. I needed to arrange this in a way that Derek wouldn’t find out where they were going.
I took a breath. “Okay. I think I can make this work. I have someone outside that can teleport us. If your brother and Echion are nearby, we can go to where they’re located and teleport a group of us straight to a train station. I don’t know what her range limit is, but she probably has enough influence to get Echion and your brother on a train without any questions being asked. Maybe even get you some fake passports if you need them. Give me a minute to make some arrangements.”
I turned to Jin. “Can you keep her company for a minute?”
Jin nodded in assent and I stepped back outside. I found the other three members of our group looking bored.
I turned to Professor Orden. “I think I’ve made sufficient arrangements, but I need to talk to you in complete privacy.”
Orden sighed dramatically. “Of course you do. Fine, fine, let’s get this over with.”
She went through her usual incantation, teleporting us into that strange void that she called a safe location.
“Well?”
I took a moment to gather my thoughts. “Okay. Long story short, she’ll go with us voluntarily if we put her brother and a child from Caelford on a train back home in a way where they won’t be discovered or stopped. Complication is that people from our government are surveilling them, as you already mentioned.”
Professor Orden chuckled. “You want us to bypass border security? Is that all?”
I didn’t know if she was laughing because that was easy or hard.
“Uh, she’d want to watch them leave, and any assurances that you could give that they’ll make it back to Caelford would be helpful…”
Orden rolled her eyes. “Give me a few hours and I can get them all the way out of Valia on my own. When we’re in the Unclaimed Lands, I’ll put them on a train. Do you want to come along?”
My curiosity said yes, but my stomach was very at odds with that instinct.
Ultimately, I decided on the responsible route, even though I knew I was going to regret it when my seasickness kicked in. “Yes.”
“Anything else?”
I nodded.
At this point, I could have told her everything that Vera had just told me, but I knew that Professor Orden was a member of some kind of secret organization with an agenda of their own. I didn’t think she was involved, but I still didn’t completely trust her, either.
“She gave me a considerable amount of information about what happened in there and I have a strong reason to suspect that Derek might be involved in all this. I don’t think we should bring him along.”
Professor Orden’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to need a little more than that, Corin. That’s a fairly serious accusation.”
I debated how much to say. “She witnessed Tenjin being attacked, but she wasn’t one of the people who attacked him. She described one of the attackers as a tall Emerald-level swordsman with short brown hair.”
Orden went still for a moment, and then shook her head. “That is… worrisome, I agree. I believe it would be wise to bring him along and see how he behaves, but I will take significant precautions. An Enchanter is always prepared for contingencies, but in this case, I will take extra care.”
I nodded. “I’ll be careful, too.”
Orden grinned. “I’m certain you will be.”
* * *
Two hours later, I stood outside a train station in the Unclaimed Lands.
It had taken ten teleports to get us here.
Professor Orden was waiting with Echion, Vera, and Aloras right near where the train was set to arrive. They were conversing about something, but I wasn’t paying much attention.
One reason was that I was feeling horribly motion sick. Teleporting with the concussion had been more painful, but ten teleports managed to be way higher on the nausea.
As I threw up into a nearby bush, though, I noticed something I’d never experienced — tiny droplets of water falling freely from the sky.
Rain.
I knew what it was intellectually, of course, and I was no stranger to water itself.
But natural rain? I’d never experienced it. I hadn’t realized that it would make the air itself feel wet, that it would make things smell stronger. Everything in the rain felt a little bit more present, more real.
It was glorious.
Even with the world swimming around me from my motion sickness, I basked in the sensation of the droplets impacting against my clothes and hair.
I barely noticed when Vera said tearful goodbyes to Aloras and Echion.
I did notice something just before Echion stepped on the train, though.
He gave me a shy smile, waved, and whispered, “Thank you.”
I waved in return.
Maybe, in all this mess, I’d done one small bit of good.
* * *
After we watched the train depart, our group wandered a short distance away from the train station. It wasn’t difficult to find a location to talk discreetly. We were miles from the nearest town, and only a few hundred yards in each direction around the train station had any signs of civilization. Beyond that, we hit the boundary of one of the deep forests that characterized much of the Unclaimed Lands. The Aspen Forest, maybe? I was terrible with geography.
We didn’t wander too far. It was well-known that dangerous monsters prowled freely in these forests, and only the powerful wards around the train station and tracks kept them from being assaulted. Before the tracks had been built there had been no easy path between Valia and Caelford. The two countries were on opposite sides of the continent, with hundreds of miles of the Unclaimed Land and a few smaller kingdoms like Sytennia and Erawen in between.
I was shocked at how thick the plant life was. Nearly every inch between the trees was covered in some sort of bushes or vines. We only walked in about a dozen meters before pausing in a small ring of grass.
Professor Orden spoke first. “I trust you all are aware of how dangerous this particular excursion into the tower will be. If any of you want to bow out now, this would be the time.”
Vera smirked. “I have a feeling that I don’t get that option?”
Orden shot her a dark look. “No, Miss Corrington. You do not.”
I glanced to Jin and Sera, then back to the professor. “I can’t speak for the others, but I’m definitely going in.”
“Clearly.” Professor Orden looked at my companions. “Well?”
“Going.” Sera said.
“I am also going.” Jin added.
“Yep. Definitely going.” Derek added, unprompted. “We should probably talk about what we’re all capable of. At this point, I should let you all know that I’m an Emerald. I can handle most of the heavy combat for our group.”
Vera’s eyebrows rose at Derek’s claim. I’d have been incredulous, too, if I hadn’t physically seen his Emerald aura. Wisely, she remained silent. Arguing with him wasn’t going to accomplish much.
I scratched my chin. “I’ve seen you fight, but I still don’t know what your exact capabilities are. What attunement do you actually have?”
“Oh! Of course. I’m a Soulblade. It’s sort of like a combination between a Summoner and an Enchanter. I make contracts to bind monsters to items, giving the items magical properties. I can also bind monsters to myself, which gives me some of the monster’s physical advantages. There are disadvantages, though.”
He took a breath. “Every monster I bind to an item takes up some of my mana while it’s bound, much like it would for a Summoner. That means I can’t just manufacture tons of items like an Enchanter. And unlike a Summoner, I can’t just spend mana to summon one or more copies of a monster as much as I want. I’ve only got the one monster in each item.”
He tapped the swords at his side. “I can release the monsters temporarily to fight, but if they get hurt, they actually get hurt. They’re not simulacra. The bond to the item affords them a degree of protection, since they can retreat back inside, but they can die.”
Sera made a ‘hmm’ noise, stepping closer to Derek. “Would it be possible for me to bind copies of the monsters you’ve imbued your items with?”
Derek nodded. “Technically possible, yeah, if I let them out for a bit. But I don’t think it’s a good idea. Delsys is a Citrine-level monster, and Tavare is Emerald-level. You could still make contracts, but your summoned versions would be much weaker, much like what happened when you summoned the karvensi. And, moreover, I think you have too many bound monsters already.”
“What do you mean?” Sera folded her arms.
“I saw you binding everything you could in that Survival Match. That was brilliant, by the way.”
Sera stood up a little straighter at that statement.
Derek kept talking, though. “But you shouldn’t hold onto that many bindings long-term. You know how many creatures I’ve got bound? Four. And I’m an Emerald. It’s not worth taking up the mana to bind that many things to your attunement, especially when you’re just getting started. It does make you more flexible, of course, but you won’t have enough mana to actually deploy anything if all of it is being eaten up by contracts.”
Sera sighed. “I’d love to get rid of some of my weaker contracts, but some of them are mandatory for my classes. And the ones that aren’t mandatory — things like the ones I bound during that match — are ones I’d want to keep. I’m not exactly going to have a lot of opportunities to bind something as strong as a wyvern elsewhere.”
Derek’s eyes widened. “You managed to bind the wyvern in there? I don’t think I even noticed that. That’s pretty impressive, kid. I agree that you should keep that one. But if you’ve got as many bindings as I think you do, I’ll bet you could hit Carnelian right now if you just release some of the ones you’re not using. And getting yourself a shroud would be far more useful than having a little more summoning variety.”
Sera blinked. “Mana being used up by contracts doesn’t count toward my attunement advancing? That…makes a lot of sense, actually.” She glanced from side-to-side. “You know what? This is more important than classes.”
“Slime, I release our contract.”
“Goblin, I release our contract.”
“Imp, I release our contract.”
I turned my attunement on, watching Sera briefly shimmer as she spoke each line, and then a crimson aura burst around her as she spoke the final words.
“Huh.” I mumbled. “Congratulations, Sera.”
She grinned brightly at me. “Wish I’d known I could do that, I probably would have done it weeks ago. Think I should get rid of the ogre?”
I shrugged. “Depends on if you think you’ll need the muscle.”
“I’ll hold onto it for now.” Sera turned to Derek. “Thanks for the advice. This feels… amazing.”
I felt a brief pang of jealousy that Sera’s attunement level had exceeded my own, but it was mixed with relief. If Derek decided to betray us, I wanted Sera to be as powerful as possible. A Carnelian wasn’t going to be able to handle Derek on her own, but every bit of extra power helped our chances of surviving.
“Just wait until you hit Sunstone. It gets better and better. Okay, enough from the two of us. Corin, what’ve you got?”
I patted the sword at my side. “I’m just a Quartz-level Enchanter. I have a basic magic sword with transference runes, nothing to brag about. Aside from that, I have a demi-gauntlet that can fire bursts of gray and transference mana and a stronger-than-average shield signet. I also have a device for measuring mana levels, but I don’t think it’ll be particularly useful in the tower.”
I didn’t mention the return bell, the book, or the Jaden Box deliberately. Derek was being friendly, but I still didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.
“Oh,” I added, “I also am borrowing Professor Orden’s ring of regeneration.”
I was a little worried that she’d want it back, but it was worth mentioning. I didn’t think we had any other healing, as far as I was aware.
She nodded. “You can hold onto that for now. You’re more likely to need it than I am.”
“That’s about it for me. Most of what I can contribute is normal supplies. Oh, I did bring a flask that generates water and a cloak designed to keep the wearer warm, in case we end up camping.”
“Both good ideas.” Derek nodded. “You should stay as far from combat as you can if you don’t have a shroud yet. The improved shield sigil is a good idea, but it’s far from perfect. Orden, you want to go next?”
“Sunstone-level Enchanter. I have a variety of useful devices, but I’m not going to list every one of them.”
I frowned. “Aren’t you also a Summoner?”
Orden wrinkled her nose. “Where’d you get that impression?”
“All the teleporting?”
She shook her head. “Ah. I can see why you might presume that, but summoning and teleportation are similar, but not identical. Extremely powerful Summoners can teleport, but I can’t claim to be one. I do have a second attunement for that purpose. I’m a Wayfarer. It’s a Dalish attunement focused exclusively on mobility and teleportation.”
That answered a lot of questions, but it raised a few others. Nothing I needed to worry about immediately, though.
Orden folded her hands. “I suppose it’s safe to assume I will be able to teleport us short distances within the tower, but I require an anchor to teleport to. A person or object I’m familiar with is best. I may or may not be able to teleport us out of the tower if we are in a dangerous location. It depends on if the room we’re inside is currently sealed. You should not expect me to be able to provide us with a reliable escape.”
I nodded along with that answer. I had my return bell in case of emergencies, but it had similar restrictions.
Orden turned to Jin. “I believe you are next, Jin.”
“You may know that I carry two pistols and I am capable of using them with a degree of skill. I have several other basic items of Corin’s design, mostly focused on illusions and detection.”
Derek nodded. “Sounds good. What’s your attunement?”
Jin clenched his jaw. “Apologies, but I would rather not say. Professor Orden is aware of my situation and my reasoning.”
I frowned at that. I’d been assuming he was keeping his attunement concealed because he was in Spider Division, but this situation was potentially dangerous. That seemed far more important than a training exercise.
Orden nodded to Jin and turned to Derek. “I can confirm that Jin has a good reason for keeping his attunement private for the time being. Jin, if the situation is desperate enough, you may need to use your attunement regardless.”
Jin dipped his head just slightly. “I understand.”
Still being painfully mysterious, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. Given Jin’s encounter with Katashi, I was beginning to wonder if Jin might work for Katashi directly. Katashi was the patron visage of Dalenos, after all, and Jin had claimed to have the surname Dalen. Since he’d insisted he wasn’t royalty, that left several other options — and being a government agent or a servant of Katashi were both options that made concealing his abilities logical.
Orden turned to Vera next. “Well, if Jin is going to be pointlessly evasive, I suppose Vera is next.”
Vera shrugged. “Not much to say. Sunstone, for what little it’s worth. I’m just an Analyst. I can rapidly gather and process sensory information. Makes me good at reading through data and remembering it, but I’m not much of a fighter. Most practical skill in the tower is probably finding hidden passages, items, and that sort of thing.”
That made some sense. It sounded similar to a Diviner, but more focused.
We spent a moment in contemplation, each of us assessing the other members of the group, before Derek finally broke the silence. “We ready to do this?”
“Ready enough,” I replied. “I hope.”
* * *
Another two hours later, six of us stood outside the tower.
Sera and Derek were bristling with energy, looking eager to get inside.
We each signed a paper with the Soaring Wings at the gate.
Under Professor Orden’s instructions, Vera used a false name on the paperwork. If there really were government agents that didn’t want her going into the tower, we couldn’t afford to have them find out and send someone after us.
After signing the paperwork, I excused myself briefly to find a public washroom before we entered the tower.
While I was very close to losing my lunch over the teleporting, that wasn’t why I needed a washroom. In truth, I just needed a private location.
Closing the door, I found a utility closet large enough to stand inside, and removed the rod that was connected to my return bell. It wasn’t an ideal location, but I’d completely forgotten to ask Professor Orden where to put it. I didn’t want Derek to know about the retreat method, so I couldn’t ask while the whole group was together.
At least I’d have a way out of the tower, even if appearing here would be a little bit awkward.
Realizing that I wouldn’t be alone again for a while, I checked my book. No reply yet. Unfortunate, since I was in dire need of any additional information I could get.
With that, I made my way back to the group.
“Everyone ready?” Professor Orden asked.
We gave her a series of affirmative replies.
“Good.” Professor Orden turned to Derek, handing him a jeweled ring.
He accepted it with a frown. “What’s this?”
“Just an emergency measure. Focus some gray mana into it if you need to get us out. If I’m incapacitated, we’ll need another way to teleport out of here.”
Guess I’m not the only one thinking about emergency escapes.
I wondered if it worked exactly like a bell. The ring was too small for me to see the runes on it.
I turned my head to Orden. She gave me a nod and a grin.
I nodded in return.
And with that, the six of us stepped into the tower.
Chapter XX — Serpents
I found myself inside a circular white room, four tremendous support pillars forming a square within the circle. The pillars reminded me of where I’d first encountered Katashi. That was my destination now. He said he’d find me there, although I didn’t know if he’d be waiting there (doubtful) or simply check in at some point to see if I’d arrived.
It would have been nice to have a way to just contact Katashi and tell him to come pick Vera up at the entrance, but based on his prior behavior, I expected that any deviation from the plan was likely to antagonize him.
I considered using the book to contact the Voice of the Tower again and now that I was inside, but the Voice had been clear that I wasn’t supposed to let Professor Orden know that the book existed. This was a bad enough situation that I was tempted to do it anyway, but I decided against doing it immediately.
I did have the Jaden Box, but I didn’t have anything strongly connected to him that I could use to try to summon him…and I already knew that summoning a visage was a terrible risk.
Could I stick my branded hand in the box and use that as a summoning focus if I needed to? Maybe, but I didn’t know if I had to close the box’s lid, and I didn’t feel like losing my hand unless I really needed to. That sounded rather uncomfortable.
The others appeared around me. Fortunately, whoever designed the teleportation function for the tower entrance was apparently smart enough to have figured out a way to make sure we didn’t appear right on top of each other.
I glanced around the chamber as the others oriented themselves.
The room was about thirty meters across. Next to us was a single large door that looked just like the one we’d entered through. An exit? Was walking back out of here really going to be that easy? There hadn’t been an immediate exit during the Judgment, but that was meant to be a single trip.
If climbing the tower was more about learning how it worked and entering and exiting repeatedly over the course of years, it made sense for it to be somewhat easier to get back out.
There were two doors on the oppose side of the room, near what I was picturing as the northeast and northwest pillars. The “exit” door was right between the southern pillars.
I was already presuming too much. I turned toward Derek and jerked a thumb toward the door. “Is that an exit?”
He nodded. “Yep. It’s not like a Judgment. We can walk out any time, as long as we can make it safely back here.”
Professor Orden snapped her fingers, drawing all of our attention. “Listen up, children. I know that for many of you, this is your first experience climbing the tower. Now that we’re here, we need to discuss our strategy.”
I nodded. “That makes sense, but is there a time limit in this room?”
She shook her head. “This is what we generally call a ‘landing room’. There are several within the tower. Each tower entrance has one, and each time you reach a new level of the tower you will often find one. It’s a safe room; you can stay in landing rooms more or less indefinitely without consequences. If we were going up, we would most likely be using landing rooms to sleep every few levels.”
I breathed a sigh of relief at the revelation that there were safe rooms to stop and rest.
Orden continued. “The first thing to discuss is our objective. Corin, what exactly did Katashi ask you to do? Be specific.”
“I need to bring Vera to the room where the two of us met him during my Judgment. He insisted that she be alive, for what it’s worth.”
Vera didn’t seem to relax when she heard that. She just glanced at each of the members of our group, looking nervous. I didn’t blame her.
I scratched an itch on my nose. “Beyond that, he said I had a seven day time limit. I don’t know how deep that room is into the tower, so I’m not sure how difficult that will be. I presume we’re already on the second day.”
Vera chimed in. “The room we found him in was the first floor below ground, or B1 as we’d usually call it.”
I blinked. “The tower goes down? I mean, I knew it felt like I was going down when I went through that grate, but I guess I assumed…”
Derek chuckled. “It’s a common misconception that the tower only goes up. Climbers are trying to get to the top of the tower, after all. But this place goes deep below the surface of the continent, too. The creatures that maintain the tower live down there. Workers and administrators and such. I’m a little surprised you managed to get down there during a Judgment; that’s unusual, but not unheard of.”
I turned back to Vera. “How’d you know what floor we were on? Is there an easy way to tell?”
Vera pointed a finger at the side of her head. “Analyst Attunement. Among other things, I can detect my current altitude. Not all floors are the same height, but we were just about twenty meters below the tower entrance when we were in that room, which was roughly the height of the staircase in the chamber. Thus, we were on B1.”
I nodded. “Okay. How hard is it to get down there?”
“With me? Not bad.” Derek grinned. “Stairs down are harder to find. They’re usually either concealed or protected somehow, but if we only need to go down one level, that should be very doable. Six days is plenty of time. We’ll probably be done in less than six hours.”
Professor Orden shook her head. “I appreciate your confidence, Derek, but we’re not all a bunch of Emeralds like yourself. We will need to proceed slowly and cautiously to ensure the children — and our esteemed guest — remain safe.”
Derek nodded. “’Course, we’ll take it slow. I’m just saying that this doesn’t sound particularly difficult, it’s just important. If we prioritize monster rooms, I should be able to handle the danger by myself for the most part.”
Sera turned to Derek. “Prioritize? Meaning that, much like with a Judgment, we’re going to have a choice of different rooms to proceed?”
“Yep. And one of the options is usually fighting. The tower gets more dangerous as you go further up, both in terms of traps and monsters. I could sleep through fighting most of the things on the first ten levels or so, with the exception of spire guardians. I’d have to be awake for those, but I could be blindfolded and armless.” He winked at Sera. “Not to brag or anything, of course.”
Sera rolled her eyes. “Right. Just like you handled the Survival Match all by yourself.”
Derek gave her a wounded look, putting his hand over his heart. “That was a rare exception, Miss Cadence. I wasn’t able to show my true strength in there. I was suppressing a considerable amount of my shroud to look like a Citrine.”
“Why do that?” Sera folded her arms.
Derek sighed. “We only have a few known Emeralds in all of Valia. Emeralds are tactical assets in warfare, so we try to keep a relatively low profile. No laws about it, just common sense.”
Orden nodded. “Each attunement level is about six times more powerful than the last. Even an E-ranked Emerald is six times more powerful than an E-ranked Citrine and so-on.”
Derek chuckled. “And I’m hardly just E-ranked. Anyway, I’d normally never say this, but enough about me. We should focus on the task at hand.”
Orden pointed at the north east door. “Shall we begin exploring, then? We can look at the two doors that are available and choose a path.”
“I’ll go check the walls for additional passages while you do that,” Vera offered. “And no, I’m not going to try to escape. I know you can teleport.”
Professor Orden nodded. “I appreciate your cooperation.”
Our group headed toward the northwest doorway. Unlike most of the doors in my Judgment, this was a simple wooden door with no visible lock. Standard doorknob. It looked like the type of door you could find just about anywhere.
Derek waved for us to back off a bit, so we all stepped back while he approached the door. “Don’t see a lot of traps on the first floor, but I should always be the one to open the doors just in case.”
I liked the idea of having Derek up front. It made it much harder for him to stab us in the back.
I watched carefully as Derek opened the door.
The next chamber looked pretty similar to the one we were standing in, with the exception of the fact that the floor was missing.
After a few seconds, a single floating tile appeared about a meter from the doorway. Another tile appeared a few seconds later, another meter or so out from the doorway.
Then the first tile disappeared, and a third tile appeared, continuing the path.
The appearing tiles were clearly making a path toward the solitary visible door on the other side of the room: a path that was, if I wasn’t mistaken, meant for us to jump across one tile at a time.
I didn’t like this at all.
Derek reached into a pouch at his side and retrieved the most mundane of tools — a rock. He tossed the rock onto one of the visible tiles. It hit and bounced right into the darkness beyond.
“Looks like they’re solid, at least.” He turned back to the group. “Orden, are the tiles actually discorporating or just turning invisible?”
“They’re discorporating. You’d need to jump across with exactly the right timing, otherwise you’d fall into…whatever that darkness is.”
I thought I heard something from the pit, but it was barely audible.
“Silly question,” Sera stepped closer to the doorway, looking down. Just seeing her that close made me uncomfortable. “But if this goes down, would it be a possible shortcut to the floor we’re looking for?”
“Not a bad thought, actually.” Derek peered down into the darkness.
Vera finished her circuit of the room and came to stand by the rest of us. “I heard the rock hit the ground after about five and a half seconds. That means the floor is about a hundred and forty eight meters down. Unlikely we’d survive that fall, and it’s also several floors down.”
Those were some pretty impressive senses.
Sera set down her backpack. “I’ve got rope. Could we lower someone down and break through a wall at the correct altitude?”
Derek scratched his chin. “Maybe if there’s a hollow wall that’s designed for it — and there are a bunch of those in the tower. Have to be careful, though. If you try to break through one of the normal walls, the tower usually sends something to stop you. Even I wouldn’t want to take the risk of fighting one of those guardians if I can avoid it.”
Vera knelt down and pressed a hand against the stone just below the doorway. “I don’t detect any weaknesses in the wall right near us. There are two of them in the chamber we’re currently standing in, though. They’re located directly opposite the two visible doors.”
She gestured to the south side of the chamber. “They’re thinner than the standard wall segments, but I also detected mechanisms on the other sides — meaning I don’t think they’re meant to be smashed open. I think they’re shortcuts back into this room from other parts of the tower.”
Derek nodded. “That’s pretty common. Lots of ways back to the entrance. We could try to bust through one to find a shortcut, but it’s not worth the risk of antagonizing a spire guardian.”
I gestured at the open door. “Do we have any way of knowing if this even leads to a way down?”
Vera stepped away from the doorway and turned to me. “Nope. But most tower paths tend to lead in a big circle, unless they end at a teleporter or a treasure room. If we keep exploring, we’ll hit a way down eventually.”
Derek nodded in agreement and closed the door. “We could probably handle this pretty easily, but the first door usually gives you an idea of the character of a specific route. I’d rather avoid puzzles if we can.”
If I was going it solo, I’d have probably disagreed, although timing-based puzzles weren’t my greatest strength. With this group, though, fighting our way through did seem a lot safer than counting on everyone properly timing their jumps.
We headed over to the other door and Derek opened it without incident.
The next room was a long rectangular one with a single door directly opposite us.
In between us and the door, however, were three titanic green slimes.
Slimes were among the most basic monsters in any of the spires. They weren’t smart or particularly dangerous. They were essentially gelatinous mana with a hint of animal cunning. The most common theory I’d heard was that they were essentially the byproducts of failed spells and magical experiments.
The more solid ones could slam into you to break bones, but most of them just tried to envelop and suffocate people. This wasn’t generally a big threat, since they weren’t very fast or strong, either.
These slimes, though? They were a good ten feet tall, and I was pretty sure the stone beneath them was sizzling. Acidic, then.
Derek turned toward Sera. “You want to handle these?”
Sera blinked. “I mean, we could, but wouldn’t it be easier for you to do it? And did we already decide on this room?”
Derek waved a hand into the chamber. “Definitely. We’re lucky to have found something this easy, trust me. I haven’t had the luxury of fighting slimes in years. I’ve seen you fight once before, but I’d like to get a better idea of your whole group’s fighting abilities. It will help give me a better idea of who I need to focus on protecting.”
Orden leaned up against a wall near the door. “I agree with Derek’s sugestion. While I’m confident that Derek could handle most of the monsters here without any difficulty, I’d like to see what the rest of you are capable of. And I’d rather that Derek save his strength in case Katashi isn’t feeling diplomatic.”
We had a moment of silence as everyone processed the gravity of that particular statement. Orden and Derek shared a nod of acknowledgement.
They’re planning for the possibility of fighting him, I realized.
I’d been so worried about Derek that I hadn’t really considered what might happen if Katashi wasn’t sufficiently satisfied when we delivered Vera to him. What if Vera told him something he didn’t want to hear?
I didn’t want to think about it.
I’d seen Keras fight Katashi for a few moments, so it was possible for a human to survive a conflict with a visage briefly. I still didn’t know what that entailed, however. I’d heard that Keras had escaped, but that didn’t mean he’d gotten out intact.
I didn’t know how Derek stacked up against Keras in combat ability, but I doubted he was much more powerful. I didn’t know how powerful Orden was, either. I hadn’t missed the fact that she’d been deliberately evasive about how powerful she was with her Wayfarer Attunement, but even if she was another Emerald, I didn’t think they stood any significant chance in a direct confrontation.
Maybe they could survive long enough to teleport us out, though?
I dismissed the errant thoughts. I didn’t have enough information to speculate with any level of accuracy. I had a few contingency plans of my own if I needed to use them.
I turned to Derek. “Can we just hit the slimes with attacks from out here?”
He shook his head. “Most spells won’t pass through the doorway. That’d make it too easy, I suppose. Gotta get in there and put yourself at risk, otherwise there’s no challenge. And Selys loves challenges.”
I groaned. “What about if we blasted a small hole through a wall right next to the door? Would our attacks be able to pass through the gap we made?”
Derek laughed, glancing toward Professor Orden. “Does he always try to solve problems by making bigger ones?”
Orden nodded sagely. “That would sum up Corin’s problem solving methodology quite appropriately.”
Sera nudged me. “Don’t let them bother you. C’mon, this’ll be fun.”
I sighed. “Fine. We’ll go get to the fighting.”
Derek stepped out of the doorway, bowed at the waist, and gestured toward the open door. “After you, then.”
I grit my teeth. I didn’t like letting Derek get physically behind me, but I was also letting him get under my skin, and in some ways that was worse.
I needed to focus.
I drew steel.
Sera, interestingly enough, did the same.
I hadn’t seen her wield a sword in years. We’d played with wooden blades as children, but we’d graduated to dueling canes as soon as we were old enough to use them.
Well, younger than we should have, if the scarring developing inside my hand was any indication.
Either way, the elegance of a full-sized sword was quickly overshadowed by the vastly superior fun of being able to blast each other with magic. At least for the two of us. Tristan had kept up standard sword training all the way up to going into the tower. He’d always had a stronger affinity for physical combat than I did.
Apparently, Sera did, too; she settled into a fighting stance that I’d seen both my mother and Tristan demonstrate, but I’d never learned. It was a high stance, with the sword raised above the head and the blade pointed toward the enemy. It looked impractical.
I was using a stance built for dueling canes, knees bent with the tip of the blade pointed directly toward the closest slime’s center of mass.
This was, of course, even less practical. Unlike a dueling cane, this sword didn’t have a rune to send a blast of energy out of the tip.
In short, we probably shouldn’t have been using weapons.
Jin stepped up to my left side. He hadn’t drawn any weapon at all.
I turned and gave him an expectant glance as the slimes slowly lumbered toward us.
He shrugged. “Don’t have a sword.”
Two pistols were clearly visible on his belt. I didn’t bother to point that out.
Okay, Jin. Have it your way.
I wasn’t going to wait until those things got close enough to swing at.
Stepping forward, I brought my sword up and back down in a diagonal slash and pushed the blade’s mana forward. The shockwave closed the distance in a second, cutting a deep gouge into the closest slime’s gelatinous body.
That didn’t slow it down, though.
Sera hit it next. Not with the sword, but with a rain of icy knives that manifested at her whispered word. That slime collapsed, falling still, but didn’t vanish.
The next closest slime crashed into it — and stretched out over it.
I blinked. “Is it…eating the other slime?”
I got my answer a moment later when top slime melted into the bottom one, causing it to swell in size. Then it started moving again, and considerably faster.
“That’s bad,” Sera mumbled. “Okay, Plan B. Hit it harder.”
I nodded, pointing with my demi-gauntlet and rapidly sending several surges of mana into it. I blasted the slime with a half-dozen globes of energy, tearing off bits of goo with each burst. I’d damaged it, but nowhere near enough.
Sword reach. I swung, but a pair of gelatinous spikes shot out of the creature’s side and deflected my blade. I barely had time to widen my eyes and side-step as more spikes shot out, piercing the air where I’d been standing a moment before.
Sera jabbed Selys-Lyann into the creature’s side, leaving an icy wound.
The slime shivered, tiny drops of slime raining everywhere, before firing a sustained barrage of gelatinous spines in Sera’s direction.
She didn’t move. Instead, she said, “Wall,” and any icy barrier sprung up in front of her, blocking the spines.
I took advantage of the distraction to run away.
Or, more accurately, to run toward the single isolated slime that was still half a room away from us. The two merged slimes were clearly much stronger, and I didn’t need this thing getting any more powerful from merging with a third slime.
I assaulted it with a series of quick cuts, the transference aura around my blade parting slime easily with each motion.
It didn’t take long for my barrage of slashes to wear the creature down. There was no obvious core — no vital organs — but once I’d slashed away enough of the creature’s mass, it collapsed like the previous one had. It looked almost like it was deflating. I hit it a few more times before it finally vanished, leaving a single green gem behind.
I ducked to grab the gemstone with my free hand and headed back toward Sera.
The merged slime had smashed through Sera’s wall, and she’d maneuvered around it to strike it with several more cuts. Three spears pierced through it into the stone floor, but they failed to pin it down. It simply tore through its own mass to surge toward her.
Sera stepped backward, slicing off a pair of encroaching spines, but it was closing the distance too fast. It would be on top of her in moments.
I poured mana into my gauntlet, sending a surge of transference mana. I’d hoped to knock the creature back, but it didn’t have the intended function.
Instead, it blasted a huge hole right through the slime’s center of mass.
The creature froze in place for an instant, giving Sera much-needed time to reorient and retreat.
Then the slime surged toward me absurdly fast, leaving an acidic trail in its wake.
I didn’t have time to dodge to the side, and I knew another slash wouldn’t be sufficient to stop it.
And so, with all the athleticism of a student who spends most of his time reading and enchanting, I tried to jump through the hole in the creature’s center.
To my credit, I almost made it.
My feet caught on the bottom of the hole, flipping me forward onto the stone floor. I hit the ground hard, the jolt of pain forcing me to drop my sword. My feet were stuck inside the slime; immobile, but fortunately not yet burning.
My shield sigil had activated, and it was repelling the acidic goop, but the slime was looming over me and about ready to crash down and crush me to a pulp.
A blur of movement. First from a humanoid figure in front of me, then the slime behind me.
I felt a tug on my feet as the slime wrenched backward, and then I was free.
I rolled over to find the slime flying backward, as if shoved by a giant hand, and then exploding when it hit the rear wall of the chamber.
Two more green gems fell to the floor as remaining slime goop vanished.
And, weirdly, a pickaxe also appeared amongst the slime’s remains.
Derek was standing over me, grinning broadly. He reached down to offer me a hand, which I grudgingly accepted.
“Not a bad jump there. It was a good reflex, even if it didn’t quite work. You kids did good for your first fight in here.”
I winced. “Thanks, I guess.”
He sounded genuine enough, but I couldn’t help but assume he was probably being snide about the whole thing. Maybe I was just too biased in my assumptions about his motives, though.
I reached down and picked up my sword, sheathing it and pointing at the pickaxe. “That’s a little weird.”
“Oh, that?” Derek walked over and picked up the pickaxe. “It’s for breaking stone.”
I sighed. “I know what a pickaxe is. I just was surprised to see one falling out of a slime?”
He laughed. “The tower provides. If there’s a need for a specific tool to solve a certain puzzle, or if there’s a secret passage nearby that a tool could help us find, you’ll find that tool somewhere. In this case, we’ll probably find a hollow wall—”
“Here.” Vera tapped a wall on the eastern side of the room. “Thinner than the ones in the other room and no mechanism on the other side.”
Derek turned to Vera. “Nice! I’d usually have to tap on every wall to hear what sounds hollow. Believe me, that’s a pain. You’re going to be very useful.”
He walked over to the wall, ignoring the green gems — and, by my logic, tacitly giving me permission to take them immediately.
I picked up the gems, and then handed them to Sera. “You did the heavy lifting on the big one. You should probably take these.”
She waved a hand. “Nah, aren’t those mana crystals? I can’t use them like you can.”
I shrugged. “They’re worth money, though.”
“I’m sure I’ll find something else in here I can actually use. You should hold onto those for an emergency.”
I nodded at the logic, tucking them away with the other one. Then, after thinking for a second, I pulled one back out. “Vera, can you check what these do?”
She accepted the gemstone. “Life mana crystal, class 3.”
I whistled appreciatively. I’d never owned a crystal of that level of quality before. I took out the other two. “They the same?”
“Yep.”
Nice.
Derek slammed the pickaxe into the wall Vera had indicated. A chunk of stone fell away, leaving a sizable enough gap to see that there was a passageway on the other side. “I’ll clear this. Check the other door real quick, though. Secret passages are usually better, but it might lead to something we don’t want, like the stairs up.”
Professor Orden led the way to the other door, opening it.
I caught the briefest glimpse of purplish scales before Orden slammed the door back shut, immediately tracing a series of runes over the wood with her finger. As she moved her hand, a line of mana burned the runes into the door. When she had finished, a glowing barrier manifested over the wood.
“Was that…?” Sera asked.
Orden stepped away from the door. “Mizuchi. I’ve never heard of her being this close to the tower entrance. That is not a good sign.”
I scratched my chin. “Any chance she’s there to guard the stairs down, and has orders to let us through? Maybe Katashi is doing us a favor?”
“Extremely unlikely,” Derek called in between swings of the pickaxe. “It’s more likely she’s a sign that we’re not supposed to go that direction. Even I wouldn’t take the risk of tangling with someone like her by myself. I don’t think she’s ever even been injured.”
Given what I’d seen from her fight with the Soaring Wings, I’d call that likely.
“We can explore that route if all others are exhausted,” Orden decided. “In the meantime, let’s wait and see where Derek’s passage leads.”
It didn’t take Derek much longer to clear the way. Even without his obviously enhanced strength, the stone in that section didn’t seem particularly solid. I picked up a small rock and put it in my pouch. It felt far lighter than it looked, and I wanted to figure out what it was made of at some point. I thought about asking Vera, but it didn’t seem sufficiently relevant to the situation.
Derek led the way down the thin hallway that he’d cleared the way into. After stepping a few feet in, he held up a hand to stop us from advancing further. “I’m going to open up the next door. Step back out of the hallway in case anything happens.”
“Lemme check for traps first,” Vera offered. Most of us backed out of the hallway, but Vera stepped in deeper, shouldering her way past Derek. I couldn’t see her, but I heard her say, “Door is unlocked. I don’t detect any traps, but I wouldn’t be able to tell if it’s triggered by something too far away, like on the other side of the room.”
“Should be good enough. I can take a hit or two, anyway — but thanks. You really are very helpful.” Vera slipped out of the hallway with the rest of us, then Derek opened the door.
No traps. Or at least nothing that made Derek explode outright.
Derek stepped into the room. I saw him take a deep breath, mumble something, and then wave for us to follow.
The room was filled with keys.
Thousands of keys. We had to step onto a pile of keys just to get inside. It felt something like a legendary dragon’s hoard, only the dragon was either very misguided or extremely eccentric.
Or maybe it just wanted to start a new, key-centric economy. Who knew?
I knelt down once I’d gotten in there, examining the sheer variety of keys. No two keys looked exactly alike. Some had handle styles that resembled animals, some were painted unnatural colors. Most, but not all of them, looked like they were built for modern pin tumbler locks. A few of them didn’t have the necessary cuts toward the tip, though.
One of them was just a flat rectangular piece of wood. It took me a minute to realize it was a piano key.
Apparently, the goddess had a sense of humor.
The room itself was square shaped, and our entry door was on the center of one of the faces. The left and right faces also had doors. Each of which had an abundantly obvious series of three locks on the surface.
Vera walked to the conspicuously empty wall face directly across from us and put a hand against the stone. “Not hollow. Seems like a real wall. I’ll see if I can figure out anything about the locks. I don’t detect any other traps, so you can probably look around somewhat safely.”
Jin and Professor Orden headed to the left door, so I followed Sera toward the right one. The three locks on the surface were blue, yellow, and red. It reminded me of my Judgment.
Vera walked up next to me, and then touched the face of one of the locks. “Hrm. Built for a specific key; it’ll trigger a trap in the ceiling of the room if we use the wrong one.”
She repeated the process with the other two locks. I was curious what it was like using her attunement. Did information just appear in her head, like she’d always known it, or was there a visual component? It didn’t seem like the right time to ask, though.
“These require other keys. Seems pretty straightforward, but I’ll check the other door as well.”
I frowned. “So, we’re just supposed to dig through a pile of keys until we find the matching ones? That seems…uninteresting, compared to some of the other challenges.”
Vera shrugged. “Not every challenge you face in life is going to be about combat skills or lightning fast reflexes. This one is probably a test of patience, or maybe problem solving. There’s probably a way to speed this up. There usually is. Maybe several.”
Sera picked up a key from the pile and offered it to Vera. “If we hand you a key, will you be able to tell if it’s the right one before we try it in a lock?”
Vera accepted the key. “Probably. Interesting. This key isn’t enchanted. The lock was definitely looking for an enchantment. That’s how it checks if the key is right.”
I considered that. “That narrows things a lot, actually. I could probably find the enchanted keys pretty fast. Or, at least, the ones that aren’t buried.”
I tapped my mana watch to my forehead and checked the value. 48/48. I’d used a little bit of the mana from my hand during the fight, but none of my mental mana. It would be safe to turn my attunement on for just a bit.
I looked back to Vera. “I’m going to activate my attunement and start picking up keys. I’ll hand them to you when I find them.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” Vera nodded and started walking to the other side of the room.
I turned my attunement on. It was momentarily blinding; there was magic everywhere in the tower. Literally everywhere; even the air itself was infused with a little bit of mana.
I wasn’t just seeing the mana. The mana was so thick around me that I could feel it. It was like a haze of mist all around me, solid enough that I could imagine touching it.
Could I?
Experimentally, I reached out with my right hand and focused my mind. I tried to reach into the ambient mana and pull on it like I could with a mana crystal. A tiny patch of mana reacted, swirling around my fingers. The mana pulled away from my hand a moment later, indicating that something was working against my efforts.
Interesting. I’ll have to experiment with this more later.
The brightest source of mana in the room was Derek; he had his Emerald shroud active. It made sense. We all knew he was an Emerald, so he had no reason to hide it and risk suffering an injury with a weaker shroud.
After that, the strongest auras were from Derek’s weapons and Orden’s tunic. The ring of regeneration was next, glowing with a golden Citrine aura.
Interestingly enough, Selys-Lyann didn’t have a colored glow at all. The aura around it was translucent, much like a quartz attuned. I doubted it was only Quartz-Level, however, which implied that one of the runes on the weapon was designed to conceal the sword’s aura.
Once I’d gotten used to the glow, I started picking through the keys until I found glowing ones. I found a good dozen of them among the hundreds on the surface of the pile. Apparently this wouldn’t be as simple as just finding the six magic keys among all of them.
Still, this was vastly more efficient than having Vera check all of the keys.
After she’d finished checking the locks on other side of the room and confirmed that they worked the same way, I started picking up the magic keys. Professor Orden beat me to some of them.
I was a little surprised she decided to help, but I wasn’t going to complain.
Between the two of us, we picked up the visible keys and handed them off to Vera within a couple minutes. After that, we began the exhausting process of digging through the vast piles of other keys for more enchanted ones.
At one point, I found a wooden slat that had the word “key” written on it.
Yeah, Selys definitely had a sense of humor. Not a very sophisticated one, but it was there.
I shook my head and kept digging.
“Found a couple good ones in this first batch. One key for each door. Want me to go ahead and put them in the right locks?”
“Go ahead,” Professor Orden replied. Which was good, because I was about to say it myself, and it would have been embarrassing to say something when I definitely wasn’t in charge.
Vera turned a key in one of the doors. I heard a click.
“Huh. I think that unlocked it. Maybe we don’t need all three for each door?” Vera put a hand on the doorknob, frowning. “It’s definitely unlocked.”
Derek walked over to the door. “Don’t open that yet. It’ll probably work now, but it’ll probably work better if we open all the locks first.”
Jin picked up a key, tossed it into the air, and caught it. “I’m pretty sure opening is all we need the door to do.”
Derek shook his head. “Yeah, it’s meant to tempt us to leave early. If we solve the whole thing, though, it’ll probably give us something extra. Like an additional tool, or it’ll change where the door leads.”
I’d almost forgotten that the doorways were more like teleporters. The connections between rooms in the tower were constantly shifting. I’d never actually seen it happen, but someone like Derek who had been in here dozens of times almost certainly had.
“It could just be that there are three keyholes to give us three options on which key to find, making the room easier to solve,” Jin pointed out.
He wasn’t wrong; that was a pretty reasonable assumption. Not every group would have an Enchanter handy, and certainly not a combination of an Enchanter and an Analyst. We had a pretty ideal group for this, although a powerful Diviner might have found it even easier.
“Let’s just see how long it takes to find another couple keys and go from there,” Derek suggested. “We’ve got days before we need to introduce Vera to Katashi. I’d like to do whatever we can to make this as safe as possible.”
Introduce? Really?
That was a very… optimistic way of thinking about what we were doing.
Vera straightened up a bit at the reference, her expression tilting definitively toward the dour in spite of Derek’s friendly language. She was still handling it a lot better than I would have in her place, though.
I tried not to think about the possibility that I was leading her to die.
It only took us a few more minutes to find the next matching key. That gave us a bit of encouragement. It seemed like it’d be a pretty easy task.
It took two hours to find the entire rest of the set. I’d shut off my attunement long before, so we had to rely strictly on Professor Orden’s vision to identify the magical keys. Fortunately, we eventually figured out a system — emptying out one corner, then dedicating gradually moving every single “disqualified” key to that corner — until we had all of the right ones.
We inserted all the keys into the left door first. Clicks for each, but no obvious change in the door itself. Vera was able to detect that the destination on the opposite side of the door hadn’t changed.
Exasperated, we inserted the three keys into the door on the opposite side of the room. A huge blue treasure box appeared in the middle of the chamber.
“Hrm.” Jin mumbled.
“Yeah, you mumble, you know I won the bet.” Derek nudged Jin as he walked toward the center. “Ah, Vera, you want to check this for traps?”
Vera wandered over, putting a hand on the box.
Her eyes shut. “…you’re not going to like this.”
Derek’s hand went to the hilt of one of his swords. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s not trapped. But…it is locked.”
She tipped over the box.
There were eight keyholes on the bottom side.
And we’d long ago consigned the magic keys we didn’t need into the same titanic pile as all of the non-magical ones.
That had, in retrospect, been a pretty serious oversight.
And, more importantly, I learned that Selys had a much meaner sense of humor than I’d imagined.
* * *
It was another two hours before we found all of the right keys to open the box. By that point, everyone aside from Derek had lost most of their enthusiasm. I was half-expecting to find another box inside the box.
At least we’d set aside all the remaining magical keys this time, just in case.
Finally, with every key in place, we popped the box open.
There was a key inside.
A single. Reshing. Key.
It was made out of blue crystal, serpentine in shape, with decorative spines forming the bittings on the blade of the key.
“Ooh.” Derek snatched the key out of the box. “Vera, any idea what this does?”
“I’m going to hazard a guess that it opens a lock, Derek.” She sighed. “Beyond that, you’re not going to get much out of me. I can tell you if it’s magic, the dimensions, and what it’s made out of — but not what it goes to. The serpent motif is probably significant, of course.”
“Check anyway.” He handed her the key.
“Definitely magic. Strong, too, but I can’t tell you what it does. Maybe one of the Enchanters could?”
Professor Orden silently held out a hand and Vera gave her the key.
Orden looked the key over while I checked my remaining mental mana. 37/48. I hadn’t used a dangerous amount, but I was already getting a pretty serious headache.
“No obvious runes. Like many tower items, it’s not enchanted through the same means as the Enchanter Attunement uses. It’s probably closer to Derek’s swords. Mana has been stored in it directly. That does mean that it was probably made by a visage, making it significant. If there are no objections, I’ll hold onto this until we find a use for it.”
Derek’s expression saddened, but no one objected. I was just happy we’d gotten anything out of all the effort.
We checked the northern door first.
The room beyond the door was rectangular, but the floor and walls were divided into black and white squares. It wasn’t set up like a Crowns board, though. Sometimes there would be a few white or black squares directly adjacent to each other.
After a few seconds, I heard a creaking sound, then a hail of spikes shot upward from the black squares on the floor. We hadn’t done anything to trigger it. Must have been timed.
Derek shut the door. “Okay, trap room. Looks complicated. Let’s check the other one.”
We made our way toward the other door, once again with Derek leading the way.
The other room was another classic; a long rectangular room with a water pit in the center. There was a single door on the opposite side. It had a single blue keyhole.
There was a broken bridge crossing about half the pool — and no obvious switch on the other side — but otherwise it was pretty close to the water room that I’d found in my Judgment.
The same room that had led me to the jail cells and gotten this whole mess started.
Suddenly, that spike look was looking awfully appealing by comparison.
Derek made the decision for us and stepped inside. “This one looks easy.”
The tile beneath his feet depressed just slightly into the ground.
I only heard a hiss before Derek’s hand blurred upward, catching the first spear of ice that emerged from the other side of the room.
“…okay, maybe not that easy,” he mumbled, hurling the icy spear to the ground and stepping fully inside.
That tile sunk into the ground, too.
“Oops?” he mumbled.
A hail of dozens of ice spears fired out of holes in the wall on the opposite side of the room, all aimed for Derek.
His arm blurred again, and then he had a flaming blade in hand, shattering each of the icy spears in a flicker of motions that were too quick for my eyes to follow.
I had to admit, it was pretty impressive.
Lowering his weapon after smashing the barrage, Derek sighed. “Okay. I need to stop moving for a minute.”
“Figured that one out all by yourself, did you?” Vera laughed, gingerly pressing a finger against the top of the first tile that Derek had stepped on. It was slowly moving back upward to the level of the rest of the floor. “Okay. Good news is that the tiles don’t seem to be linked to each other, so you haven’t triggered a chain reaction with those first couple missteps. Bad news is that each tile can trigger more than once, and I don’t see an easy way to differentiate them from normal tiles. If there are any normal tiles.”
Vera knelt down at the doorway, sweeping her hand around the area connecting to the first tile. “Hold on, let me check around here a little more.”
Derek frowned, looking down. “That’s fine… I’ll just, uh, stand here. And protect you. Yes. That is definitely what I will be doing.”
“How very gallant of you.” Vera continued tracing her way around the tile until she’d made a full circuit with her hand. “Okay, there are some spots that aren’t going to trigger any traps. I can figure them out by touch, but you’re all going to have to follow me carefully. And we should have a plan for crossing that bridge before we get this started.”
“I can handle that part,” Sera offered. “I can make an ice bridge.”
I glanced at her. “Any chance you could make an ice floor over the whole floor that’s solid enough for us to step on without touching the tiles?”
She pursed her lips, seeming to consider the idea. “I could, but it’d take up…maybe two thirds of my mana?”
“That’s too much, never mind. We’ll deal with it.”
Vera nodded. “Okay, I’ll lead the way, then. Derek will be next. He can ‘protect me’ if anything goes wrong. Sera can come up after that, then the rest of you.”
We made our way to the middle of the room slowly, but without incident.
Sera pointed her hand at the broken gap in the bridge.
“Child of the goddess, I call upon our pact. Form a bridge of ice!”
A thick section of ice formed over the gap. It looked slick, but when Vera tested it with a foot she judged that it was stable enough to cross.
We followed her to the other side of the bridge. It was Jin that noticed that we’d missed something.
“There’s a key at the bottom of the water.”
He pointed to the bottom left corner of the pool. I wasn’t even sure I could see it at first, but I checked my mana watch — it’s still 37/48, Corin, you haven’t used any since the last time you checked — and turned my attunement on.
Yeah, definitely a key down there.
Sera frowned down at the water. “Want me to try to lift it out with air magic?”
Derek narrowed his eyes at the key. “Might not be a bad idea, assuming you can maintain the bridge at the same time. Also, don’t splash us. That’s probably acid.”
Sera nodded. “That’ll make it… trickier. But I think I can manage it.”
She pointed her hand toward the spot in the water and began to whisper into the air.
“Wyvern, I call upon our pact. Deliver this key unto me.”
The effect was surprisingly subdued. The key floated upward unceremoniously to the top of the water, then out of it toward Sera’s waiting hand.
I’d been expecting a tornado or a hurricane or something. I was a little disappointed, but I could live with it.
Sera waved her hand at the last moment and the key dropped onto the stone at her feet. As Derek had suspected, the droplets of liquid that had collected on the key burned into the bridge’s surface.
“If you’ll all move to the side a bit, I’ll use the wind to push the key straight into the lock,” Sera offered.
Vera shook her head. “Let me check the lock first. The key might not actually correspond to it.”
“Seriously?” Sera glanced down at the key. “I mean, I can respect being tricky, but that’d be a little ridiculous.”
“It’s more likely the key could actually be used in multiple places. That’s more the goddess’ style, in my experience,” Derek suggested. “Vera, you want to check the walls for more secret passages?”
“Uh, not particularly. Going to be kind of a pain to get over to each of the walls…but I suppose that was a rhetorical question and I should do it anyway. Fine. The rest of you wait on the bridge. It’s all safe, as far as I can tell.”
We waited on the bridge while Vera made a careful circuit around the room, feeling her way across the floor to find the safe spots before she stepped forward. After a couple minutes, she stood up to rub her back. All that bending forward and half-crawling must have been pretty awkward.
Eventually, she reached the walls and made her way around the room to check each of them. It was when she hit the south west corner that she paused. “Huh. Light me up, that’s a surprise. There is a false wall here. You still got that pickaxe?”
…we’d left the pickaxe in the key room.
After about a minute of deliberation, we decided that simply having Derek punch his way through the false wall would be faster and more efficient than trying to make our way all the way back to the key room.
Vera led Derek over to the wall.
He started punching right through it with his bare hands.
I really hoped he wasn’t the traitor I thought he was, because if he was, we were going to be in a lot of trouble.
Punching out sections of wall didn’t take him much longer than the pickaxe had, but it took us all another couple minutes to make our way over to the hole he’d excavated. It led into another tunnel, just like the first secret passage had. There was a door with a blue keyhole at the end.
“Gotta make a choice here,” Derek explained. “Keys in the tower almost always disappear when they’re used, so we can only open one of these two doors. Assuming it’s the same key for both.”
Vera tapped on the keyhole. “It is. I checked the other lock. They use the same key.”
“We’ll take the secret passage, Derek,” Professor Orden instructed.
“Yes, Professor.” He nodded to her. “Okay, Sera, can you float the key over here?”
“No problem.” Another quick air spell and she floated the key into the lock and turned it.
Derek opened the door.
The blast of air coming from the other room slammed him backward into Vera. It hit the rest of us in the next moment, and the sheer force of the gust carried me off the ground before I could react.
I flew backward out of the tunnel, uncontrolled until Jin grabbed me by the wrist. Somehow, he’d reacted fast enough to slam a dagger — a dagger I’d never seen — into the stone wall on the side of the tunnel to anchor himself into place.
Professor Orden crashed into me a second later, breaking Jin’s grip - then Orden and I were out of the tunnel and back in the previous room, airborne over a pool of acid and quickly approaching the opposite wall.
As I flew through the air toward imminent death, my mind somehow managed to inform me, “There’s the hurricane you wanted, Corin.”
Oh, the sharpness of my wit. Truly it cuts me more deeply than any other.
“Wyvern, I call upon our pact! Protect us from the wind!”
Sera’s spell blocked the wind.
This was probably good for those people who were in the tunnel.
Unfortunately, Orden and I were still entangled and airborne.
There was an almost comical instant when the last of the air faded and we began to fall.
I panicked.
Orden acted.
She ripped the dueling cane off my belt, shot a blast of energy at a nearby tile and triggered the trap.
The acid was only a moment away, but the spears of ice from the trap reached us first.
Orden grabbed the closest spear and slammed it into the stone as we fell, intending to use it as an anchor like Jin had with the knife.
The ice spear bounced right off the stone. Magic or not, it couldn’t pierce rock.
Orden and I hit the acid hard.
For a moment, I was pretty confident I was going to die right there. My barrier kicked in before the acid could burn me, but with the barrier preventing the liquid from completely reaching me, I sank like a rock.
Orden was still there with me, her own barrier protecting her. I didn’t realize how important that was until she spoke a single word. “Teleport.”
And then we were standing back at the entrance to the tunnel, very much alive.
I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was only momentary.
Sera was kneeling on the ground at the entrance to the tunnel, breathing far too heavily. “Can’t…hold… the wind…much…longer…”
Resh.
Professor Orden and I stepped past her into the tunnel.
I could see the point where Sera’s spell — a twisting mist of green — was blocking off the wind at the end of the tunnel.
Derek had moved beyond that point. His Emerald aura was flaring, and he was physically pushing his way through the gale. The rest of us didn’t have any hope of mimicking that feat, though, and it didn’t look like Sera was going to be able to hold the wind long enough for the rest of us to wait here safely.
The easy approach was probably to move us all out of the tunnel and way off to the side, but that meant that Derek would have to try to tangle with that room alone. He probably could survive it without difficulty, but we had no way of knowing if he’d find a way to stop the wind — which meant that it was a dead end if we didn’t all get through.
“Can you teleport us to the other side of that room?” I asked Orden.
Orden shook her head. “I need an anchor to teleport. In this case, I was able to teleport back to Jin’s location. I could get us to Derek, but we’d just be blown right back out of the room.”
“Derek, close the door!” Vera shouted.
“What?” He shouted back. “Did you say my name? I can’t hear you over the wind!”
Orden stepped closer to Sera’s wind barrier, while Sera continued to shiver. With my attunement active, I could see threads of green leaking out of her. It was rather disconcerting.
Professor Orden frowned at the barrier. “We shouldn’t close the door. Derek could get stuck in there. We don’t know that this door will reopen if we try.” She turned back around. “Sera, can you make an ice wall at the entrance to this tunnel?”
She shook her head. She was looking flushed, her breathing accompanied by a wheeze.
I needed to do something.
Can I use Selys-Lyann to make enough ice to form a wall? No, not enough time.
Blast through the wind with my gauntlet? No, the wind is continuous, it wouldn’t last.
I gestured toward the tunnel entrance. “Everyone, we need to get out of the hallway and let Sera rest.”
We moved out of the tunnel and off to the side of the door, where the wind wouldn’t hit us when it picked back up. When we were all out of the way aside from Sera, I grabbed onto her tight and pulled her toward me.
I nearly lost her, but Jin grabbed me around the waist and anchored me. Together, we pulled her out of the doorway.
The wind whipped past us at deadly speed, but we were safe.
Sera was still breathing hard. I slipped off my backpack, withdrawing my water and handing it to her. She drank a sip, coughed that water up and retched onto the floor near us, and then drank some more. She managed to keep it down the second time.
She hugged me tightly and I hugged her right back. Even my usual reticence toward human contract was apparently overwhelmed by just how reshing close we’d just come to meeting our end.
We all sat down. I handed Sera the mana watch. She wordlessly accepted it, fumbling with the watch to find the right spot on her back to measure her mana.
-30/112.
She’d gone well beyond her safe mana limit. That meant potential permanent damage. No wonder she wasn’t talking.
She looked at the number, grimaced just slightly, and handed the watch back to me. I mussed her hair. “Quick thinking, blocking the wind. You saved us there. The rest of us will take care of things for a bit.”
Sera nodded, still looking painfully weak. If I was a Mender, maybe I could have healed her, but…
I sighed at my own stupidity. “I’ve still got the ring of regeneration,” I realized out loud. I handed her the ring. “Put that on, it’ll make you feel a bit better.”
She accepted the ring gratefully and slipped it on. She closed her eyes, letting out a sigh of momentary relief.
I felt a little better knowing the ring would probably keep her from getting worse, at least.
I glanced at the others. “Okay. Plan?”
Professor Orden shook her head. “As a Wayfarer, I have all sorts of movement-oriented spell. Unfortunately, none of them really involve blocking or resisting the wind. I could levitate someone, but that would just make them more susceptible to being blown away.”
I refrained from asking why she hadn’t levitated us across this room in the first place. Presumably she wanted to save her mana, or maybe it required her to concentrate on one person at a time.
Maybe she just enjoyed having other people do all the work. It didn’t matter. I needed to focus.
I still had a handful of magical items I hadn’t used, but none of them seemed applicable to the situation. I was sorely tempted to consult the book, but everyone could see me. Was it worth outing the book’s existence here?
Maybe. It really was a tremendously dangerous situation. Extreme measures were warranted. But it wasn’t an extreme approach that I suspected to actually help.
The book would probably just write back something like, “Corin, you’re in the Room of Killing Wind. It has winds that kill you. Avoid them.”
I rolled my eyes at the thought. For a magic book, it wasn’t actually very helpful.
Aside from that, I didn’t really have any items that felt close to appropriate. Maybe Professor Orden did? That gave me a bit of an idea, at least. “Do you want to try that serpent key on the other door? Maybe we can just take the other route and get Derek back here.”
Professor Orden furrowed her brow, seeming to consider the suggestion. “Only if we can think of no alternative. The other room could be equally or more dangerous, and it could also introduce a new element that makes this room more deadly.”
A fair argument. “Okay. Do we have any way of communicating with Derek?”
Orden nodded. “I have a spell that sends messages, but it’s one way. He would not be able to reply.”
Sera tried to say something, but it just came out as a cough. She frowned, and then mimed drawing something and looked at me expectantly.
I set my backpack down, once again debating if I was willing to take out the book. Instead, I retrieved a pen and frowned. “Anyone have paper? Sera needs to write something.”
Vera dug some out of a bag. “Here you go, dear. Thanks again for the save back there.”
Sera nodded to Vera, accepting the paper and my pen.
She wrote out, “Vanniv could probably stop the wind.”
I frowned. “You’re not in any condition to summon Vanniv right now.”
She nodded, writing again. “Agreed. If we call Derek back, we can camp here for a few hours until I’m sufficiently rested.”
I relayed Sera’s plan to the rest of the group.
“I’m not confident a summoned karvensi is going to be sufficient to repel wind of that strength,” Orden remarked, “But it is the best plan I’ve heard so far. I’ll send Derek the message.”
Orden whispered into the air. I couldn’t hear her words, but with my attunement active I did see a hint of mana leaving her mouth. It was a strange effect.
I turned my attunement back off, checking my mana. 34/48. Still safe, but I was getting close to the point where I usually stopped.
Ten minutes later, Derek still hadn’t come back.
“Anyone else getting a little worried?” Vera asked. “I mean, he’s an Emerald and all, but he’s not invincible. What if something happened?”
“Unless someone has something new to contribute, I don’t believe we have any option other than waiting,” Professor Orden replied. “I wouldn’t be overly concerned, however. In spite of his bluster, Derek is quite creative.”
This was emphasized when Derek’s fist burst through the wall behind me a moment later.
I startled, standing up and nearly stumbling back into the wind. Jin caught me and steadied me.
Derek punched his way through the rest of the wall over the following couple minutes. “Phew. That was rough. This wall isn’t thin like the one we were supposed to go through.”
I blinked. “What happened? And didn’t you say we’re supposed to not destroy the normal walls, because of spire guardians and such?”
“Yeah, that’s the funny thing. I realized a spire guardian was just what we needed. Punched a wall a whole bunch until one showed up. Huge iron golem, really mean. Then I punched through him, too.” Derek cracked his neck, and then wiped his lips.
Was that blood?
“Anyway, his body is big and heavy enough that the wind can’t push it. Unfortunately, I can’t push it very well, either. Thing must weigh more than a train car. So, I busted all the way through here. His body is blocking the wind on the other side of the passage. He’s around the middle of the room, though, so it won’t get us the whole way through.”
“If I can get in half-way, I can look for ways to disable the wind. There’s probably a trigger somewhere,” Vera suggested.
We pushed ourselves to our feet. Derek’s strength had come through for us again, but we’d need to handle the rest ourselves.
And, at a second glance — yeah, his lip definitely was bleeding.
Even he wasn’t invincible.
We carefully made our way through Derek’s hand-made tunnel, emerging behind the colossal form of the fallen spire guardian.
Derek hadn’t been kidding about how large it was. The golem must have been thirty feet tall when it was standing. Now, fallen on its side, its shoulder was just about as high as I was tall.
That realization made me look up. The ceiling of this room was absurdly high, probably thirty meters up.
Across the room, I could see a series of runes on the wall that were generating the blasts of wind. If we could neutralize those runes somehow, we could stop the gale.
Between the runes was, of course, another door. No sign of a lock on this one.
“How high up do you think the wind goes?” I asked Orden.
“Interesting. If you’re thinking I could levitate someone above the wind, and then lower them next to the door… You’re probably right, but the winds would still catch them on the way up.”
“Can you disable the runes if you get close enough?”
“Yes.”
I still wasn’t very familiar with how to disable existing enchantments, but I knew it could be done. If Orden said she could do it, I had no doubt that she could.
I turned to Vera. “Vera, can you check how high the wind goes?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I can detect that if I touch the wind. One second.” She stuck a hand into the wind, jerking it back a second later. “Only goes up about twenty feet.”
I turned back to Orden. “Could you levitate Derek up, then across the room once he’s out of the wind, and then lower him back down in front of the door? I don’t see a rune right next to the door itself.”
“Certainly, but Derek could not turn off the runes. Ah, you want to use Derek as an anchor, then I can teleport to him. Yes, that will work.” She turned to Derek. “Derek, brace yourself up against the wall. I’ll lift you, but the wind will be pushing against you full-force for a bit, so use your shroud defensively.”
Derek nodded. “Yes, Professor Orden.”
Derek walked over to position himself with his back up against the wall and braced against it. That’d prevent the wind from slamming him straight into the wall, at least.
“Levitate.”
Professor Orden raised her hand and Derek floated upward. When he rose above the level of the golem, the wind visibly bombarded him, pushing against his clothes. He just stretched his hands outward, pushing right back.
He floated upward more slowly with the wind causing him to drag against the wall, but when he got above twenty feet, he slipped free of the wind’s force. Orden moved her hand and he floated safely across the room, then back down right in front of the door. As we’d predicted, there was no wind right in the doorway. He was safe there.
“Teleport.” Professor Orden disappeared, reappearing next to Derek.
“Keep me steady,” she told him.
“Yes, Professor Orden.”
Derek held onto Professor Orden as she reached into the wind and pushed her arm toward the closest wind rune. Within a moment of her hand touching the rune, it visibly dimmed until the glow was completely gone.
They repeated the process, walking around the room until the last of the wind runes was extinguished.
“Great idea, Corin.” Derek gave me a friendly nudge. “I was not looking forward to having to try to walk all the way across the room in that. The wind was getting more intense the further I pushed through it.”
I nodded. “No problem. Glad I could help. Also, way to make an entrance there.”
He laughed. “I do love my entrances. C’mon.”
We made our way to the door. I glanced back toward the golem, pondering if I could salvage any part of it, but I didn’t know the first thing about how they worked. Maybe I’d ask after we saw what was in the next room.
“Everyone ready? You may want to step out of the way of the door, just in case we get another nasty surprise.”
We all quickly complied.
Derek swung the door open.
Inside was a simple square room with a large fountain flowing with fresh water. There was a door directly on the opposite side, as well as a door to our left.
The doors were heavy stone rather than the wooden ones we’d been seeing in most of the rooms, but they looked fairly ordinary otherwise.
Aside from that, the room looked completely empty.
Derek glanced back at Vera. “Vera, check for death traps?”
“You bet.” Vera knelt down at the doorway, touching the tile, then touching the wall above it. “Seems safe right at the entrance. Give me a couple minutes to poke around?”
None of us were in a hurry.
While she checked for traps, I turned to Derek. “That golem have any worthwhile parts we could take?”
He shook his head. “Not unless you’re a Caelish engineer. Huh.” He glanced at Vera. “Actually, maybe she could do something with it. I don’t know much about golems, but they’re mostly mechanical. Mana powered, but they’re mostly mechanical parts. I wouldn’t know how to get to the mana core without breaking it, but she might.”
It was a couple more minutes before Vera came back. “Room seems safe. Fountain seems safe, too.”
“Thought so. It’s a mana fountain. They’re commonly found in safe rooms.”
I blinked. “Mana fountain? As in, that’s liquid mana flowing in there?”
Derek laughed. “Nothing quite so grand. It’s just water infused with a bit of life mana and water mana. Helps speed up recovery after a particularly dangerous room, or right before one. Bad news is that I’m pretty sure the room we just went through was the easy room.”
“Meaning that the next room — or rooms — will likely be exceptionally dangerous,” Orden finished. “Very well. We should all head inside and indulge in the fountain.”
We headed in, but I frowned when I sat at the fountain’s side. “Is it really clean for us to drink from this? Wouldn’t there be, like, hundreds of years of diseases?”
Professor Orden laughed. “It’s self-cleaning. Look at the runes over here.”
Huh. I didn’t recognize most of the runes she showed me, but I was able to pick out the ones that made it refill with water, as well as ones that called mana and life mana into it.
I borrowed some of Vera’s paper and sketched the remaining runes down, tucking the notes away in my backpack, then drank the water.
It was cold. Like, goddess, I didn’t know I could feel that cold without experiencing pain.
As strange as the feeling was, though, it wasn’t strictly uncomfortable. After the first sip, I started to acclimate to it, drinking my fill.
Out of curiosity, I checked my mana watch afterward. 39/48.
So, it was restoring a bit of my mana, or at least accelerating my natural recovery a bit. But it wasn’t a mana potion, and it wouldn’t get me back to full strength immediately.
That was fine. I was more worried about Sera. She was drinking it as quickly as she could, and I didn’t blame her.
After she’d drank her fill, I passed her the mana watch again, and she registered at -10/112. Still pretty bad, but she’d recovered more mana than I had.
I looked around. “Any objections to resting here for a few hours?”
“Actually, I think we might want to plan to spend the night here. It’s very unlikely we’re going to find another safe spot like this.” Derek scratched his chin.
“I would advise against tarrying here quite that long, but a few hours might be tolerable.” Orden sat at the base of the fountain.
“Why? Are we in any sort of hurry? Thought we had days.” Derek asked.
“On Katashi’s deadline, yes. But it would appear that Edrian agents are active in our city, and I would prefer to resolve this before they have a chance to learn about where we are and plan a counterstrike.”
Derek nodded. “Makes sense. Few hours, then. Vera, want to help me take a crack at that golem? Maybe we can pry the core out of it.”
“Really? Maybe you really are a gentleman.” Vera grinned and looped her arm in his. “Let’s go take a swing at that bucket of metal.”
While they worked, I rested. And for a just a little while, I felt like we were finally safe.
I was, of course, dangerously mistaken.
Chapter XXI — Venom
My first order of business was making sure that Sera’s condition was stable. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any kind of medical expertise, so that meant the best tool at my disposal was the mana watch. I prodded her with it every few minutes until the result was a greater than zero value, after which we both relaxed a little.
She still wasn’t talking, but we scribbled notes to each other on borrowed paper. Mostly speculation about where we should be going next and general strategy.
Jin seemed content to stare at a wall most of the time, meditating or something similar. Maybe he was just considering tactics. I couldn’t blame him for that.
Professor Orden busied herself with drawing protective runes on the walls, writing some notes, and occasionally whispering into the air. Reporting to her superiors, I imagined. That wasn’t a bad idea.
Once I was convinced that Sera wasn’t getting worse, I followed Orden’s example and got to work.
My first order of business was writing down the runes from the previous room. There were three types; one clearly generated the wind, but I wasn’t sure about the other two. The second had a symbol of transference on the top, so I guessed that it might have been the one designed to recharge the main runes — especially since it was centrally positioned in the room.
The third rune? No idea. I’d assumed it was to exclude an area around the exit door from the wind, but it turned out there just weren’t any runes that were directing wind at that particular spot, so an exclusion rune wasn’t needed. Maybe the third one was a part of a puzzle that was meant to turn off the runes?
There had to be a way to handle that chamber without a powerful Enchanter to turn the runes off; maybe that third rune was an off switch.
After a while of studying in that room, I came to the belated realization that Derek and Vera were flirting nearby. And by “I came to the realization”, I mean Derek eventually told me, “We’re flirting, can we please have some space?”
Fair enough, Derek. Fair enough.
So, I, Corin Cadence, master of understanding human mating rituals, left that room to the two of them and tried not to think about that too much.
I decided early in the break that I wasn’t going to do anything reckless that could get us into more danger. That resolve lasted about as long as it took for me to get bored: meaning not particularly long at all.
In fairness, my idea was one that could have been beneficial.
When Derek and Vera (presumably) concluded their flirtations and asked Professor Orden to help them examine some of the golem’s components, I took my chance to sit down and open up my book.
No new replies since I’d last checked, which was somewhat disappointing, and maybe a little disconcerting. I’d been hoping for descriptions of each of the rooms we’d passed through. Now that Orden had told me that the Voice of the Tower was a person, though, it made sense for them not to be monitoring the book — or me — at all times.
Dear Voice of the Tower,
As previously indicated, I have entered the tower with the intent to rendezvous with Katashi. If you could render any assistance to make this process easier — such as alerting Katashi to our presence and sending him directly to us — it would be most appreciated.
Due to your previously stated concerns about Lyras Orden seeing the book, I have been careful not to open it while in her sight; as such, I will most likely be unable to see if and when you reply unless it is within the next few minutes.
Best,
Corin
Professor Orden didn’t return for the next several minutes, so I kept the book ready. About five minutes later, I received a reply.
Corin,
Your message has been received and your caution is appreciated.
I will endeavor to make certain that Katashi finds you at the proper time.
Sincerely,
Mysterious Book Entity
Aww, it still liked that name.
Or, he or she, I suppose? It was a little strange to think about there being a person sending those messages.
Anyway, the book was being vague as usual, but I was comforted to know that it was aware of the situation and might lend help. I’d have felt better if it wasn’t quite as mysterious, but it was living up to its name, and there was still a degree of comfort in predictability.
It was about an hour later that Professor Orden finally returned to the room, with Vera and Derek right behind her. She was holding a crystal sphere the size of a fist. A quick attunement activation told me it had a thick jade aura. I didn’t know much about golems, but I assumed that had to be the creature’s core, and if it was an Emerald-level crystal that was a very valuable find.
They all looked pretty pleased and I didn’t blame them.
“There’s no need to panic,” Orden began, immediately inducing my reflex to panic, “But I’ve received a message from another Wayfarer that a group of climbers from Edria has entered the tower. There is a possibility that this is a coincidence, but I believe it would be prudent to expedite our journey. How is Miss Cadence’s recovery coming?”
We checked the mana watch. 24/112. Not a lot of mana to work with, and it was definitely coming back more slowly than it normally would. Going beyond her safe value must have wrought some serious havoc on her lungs. “She’s still extremely low on mana and she can’t talk,” I answered, and she nodded in agreement. “I think we should give her another hour or two.”
Orden shook her head. “We can’t take the risk. I have been speaking with Derek and Vera, however, and we believe it may be wise for the three of us to press on ahead without the rest of you.”
I stood up. “I should go with you. I have a responsibility to see this through, and Katashi asked me to handle this. It may be easier to talk to him safely if I’m present.”
And I want to make sure I get any information I can out of the talk with Katashi. I still don’t know enough about everything that’s going on here.
Derek turned his head to Orden. “He’s got a point.”
Orden sighed. “No, he doesn’t, Derek. He’s just being egocentric. Katashi will be overjoyed to meet with Vera regardless of who brings him, and we can always have Katashi follow us to Corin’s location afterward to remove the mark.”
Derek’s jaw tightened, but his reply sounded cheerful enough. “You’re right, Professor Orden. He does not have a point.”
Something seemed…off about that exchange.
“We will not be a burden.” Jin stepped closer to me, taking up a position at my right side. “Sera has proven valuable thus far. Corin and I will endeavor to carry similar weight.”
Professor Orden pointed at the door on the other side of the room. “Let’s see how dangerous the next couple rooms look before we make a decision. Derek, why don’t you go take a look at the other rooms?”
“Yes, Professor Orden.” He headed toward the door near me immediately, turned the handle, and opened it.
There it was again. His formality, his eagerness to agree to everything she was saying immediately. Something wasn’t right.
As he turned his back to us, I activated my attunement and looked at him. Beneath his usual shimmering Emerald aura, I saw a few other sources of magical energy. The glow from his swords was unsurprising, and I noted that his tunic also carried an enchantment. He was wearing two enchanted rings as well, one on each hand.
The one that Professor Orden had given him wasn’t glowing, but it was leaving a trail. A crimson trail of mana that connected him directly with her.
It faded almost as quickly as I’d noticed it, but I was certain I’d seen it — and I understood what I was seeing.
Okay, Corin. Don’t panic. You know she said the ring was a precaution. Investigate, prepare, but don’t panic.
I offered Sera a hand and helped her stand up. She accepted it wordlessly.
We looked inside the door that Derek had opened. It was one of the largest rooms I’d seen so far, dome shaped and covered in what looked like spider web, but with strands as thick as my arm.
I didn’t see the spider itself, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
There was another door on the other side of the room, but it was a wide stone one with runes on the surface. I didn’t see an obvious door handle. It was probably meant to open and close under specific conditions.
“Looks like a spire guardian room,” Derek explained. “And I think I can see where the stairway will appear.” He pointed at a square tile in the middle of the room. “It should manifest once we beat the guardian, but I can’t say if it’ll go up or down. If it goes up, we’ll have to keep pushing on. The way down probably wouldn’t be much further.”
“How dangerous is the guardian likely to be?” Sera asked.
“Probably not too bad, given that we’re still on the first floor. As a general rule, a group of six Carnelians — or one or two Sunstones — can usually handle the guardians dedicated to blocking off the first few stairways. Obviously that means it won’t be much trouble for me.” Derek flexed his arms, and Sera rolled her eyes in response. “Better check that other door.”
Derek headed to the last door we hadn’t checked, which was directly opposite from where we’d entered. He opened it as soon as he got there, peering inside.
I considered our current placement while he was out of arm’s reach.
Vera was standing over by the entrance to the wind room, next to Professor Orden. That was bad.
Derek was about as far from Orden as possible, though, which was good.
Jin and Sera were right next to me, which was also good.
“Hey, Vera, come here a sec.” I waved to her and she approached.
One preparation in place.
“Not much in this one.” Derek turned around, closing the door. “Big box in the back is a mimic. I could handle it, but there isn’t much of a point. We aren’t here for treasure, and there aren’t any other doors in there.”
I leaned over to whisper in Sera’s ear. “When I give you the signal, make a wall.”
Sera gave me an inquisitive look paired with the slightest nod.
Two preparations in place.
I reached into my bag, adjusting the position of my return bell to make it easier to grab. Vera, Jin, and Sera were all close enough to be in the bell’s range.
Professor Orden turned toward the large group of us by the spider room’s door. “I believe that if we’ve discovered the location of a stairway, it would be prudent for the veterans among us to go handle the spire guardian and proceed.”
I shook my head. “Even if Sera needs to wait here, I really should go along. Jin can stay here with her and make sure her condition doesn’t get any worse, but I should really be there for the meeting with Katashi.”
“I’m sorry, Corin, but it’s just not safe for you to come along. I insist. You agree, don’t you, Derek?”
“Yes, Professor Orden.”
That confirmed it in my mind. She was actively trying to edge me out of completing this assignment. I folded my arms. “His agreement doesn’t exactly count for much when you’re controlling him, Professor.”
She folded her hands in front of her. “That’s quite an accusation, Corin.” A grin spread across her face. “But I’ll admit, it’s an accurate one.”
Derek’s hand moved — but not quickly enough.
“Derek, stop,” Orden commanded.
He froze in place. After a moment, he visibly trembled, his hand already atop the ring.
Orden casually gestured at him with her right hand. “Derek, withdraw your hand from the ring. Then freeze in place.”
He straightened his spine, moving his hand away from the ring, and then stopped moving entirely.
Near me, Jin and Sera had both drawn weapons, but they didn’t seem to know who to point them at.
“Now, everyone be calm,” Orden began. Derek visibly slumped, and Orden frowned. “I didn’t mean you, Derek. Bah.” She shook her head, turning toward me. “Now, Corin. I commend your observation, but you should have simply said something to me in private if you had concerns. Derek is under my control for all of our safety. You are, after all, the one who told me that you suspected he’d been involved in Tenjin’s capture.”
I sighed. “I was suspicious of him, yes, but this doesn’t seem like an appropriate response.”
Orden raised an eyebrow. “How so? Too extreme of a precaution? I do remind you that he’s an Emerald.”
Vera frowned. “She’s got a point, Corin. You think he’s the swordsman I saw before?”
I shook my head. “I was considering it, but I’m finding it less likely now. Professor, I’m not worried that it’s too extreme of a precaution. My problem is that if you can control his actions, you could have determined if he was guilty the moment he slipped on the ring — and you chose not to use it for that purpose.”
Orden opened her hands upward in a gesture of concession. “True, but I was trying to be subtle. I didn’t want anyone to have undue suspicions of Derek if it wasn’t necessary. Moreover, now that he’s aware of the ring, he’s undoubtedly going to try to find a way to break out. Difficult, to be sure. The ring is directly on his skin, so his shroud can’t help. Still, I would have rather kept him unaware of the ring except for emergency situations.”
“Well,” I began, “Now that he knows, there’s a simple way to resolve some of this. Order him to answer all of my questions directly and honestly, and I’ll ask him if he was involved.”
“Why the extra layer? I could simply ask him myself.”
“Because you’ve already been manipulating him to support your arguments. Like, for example, to leave me behind. I don’t trust you not to phrase questions in a way that forces him to reply the way you want him to.”
“Very well, I’ll humor you.” Orden turned to Derek. “Derek, answer Corin’s questions completely honestly.”
I backed up a bit, putting my back to the door to the spider room, so I could easily look to see both Derek and Orden on opposite sides of the chamber. “Derek, were you involved in the disappearance of visage Tenjin?”
He shivered. I braced myself, my hand going to the sword at my side, but his reply was simple:
“No.”
I nodded, relaxing my grip on the weapon. “Okay. Have you ever attacked Visage Tenjin or any other visage?”
“No.”
“When you entered this tower, did you do so with the intent of causing harm to anyone here?”
“Not if it was avoidable.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Elaborate.”
He didn’t reply.
Ah, I didn’t ask him a question. Gotta rephrase.
“Under what circumstances would you have caused harm to a member of this group?”
Derek focused his eyes on me. “If someone attempted to stop you from fulfilling your mission, I would have intervened on your behalf.”
I glanced back to Orden, worried that she might try something drastic, but she didn’t seem to be making any moves just yet.
I turned back to Derek. “Are you aware of anything related to Tenjin’s disappearance?”
“Yes.”
There we go.
“What do you know about it?”
His eyes shifted to Orden, then back to me. “I have a pretty good idea of who was involved and why.”
I nodded. “Who was involved and what do you know about their motives?”
“The initial group that entered the tower consisted of Vera, my friend Carter, Elora Theas, and some others from Caelford that I didn’t know. Carter and Elora were working with some kind of secret society. I don’t know all the details, but when Tenjin showed up with his attendants, Carter and Elora started a fight. Tenjin’s attendants stabbed him in the back, and I’m pretty sure they were—”
“Derek, stop.” Orden clapped her hands, and Derek shut his jaw. Orden smiled. “Well, this is all quite interesting. It’s obvious Derek wasn’t responsible.”
I turned back to her. “What are the odds that one of the names he was about to say was ‘Professor Orden’?”
“Quite high, I’d say, although my friends usually call me Lyras. Yes, yes, I had Tenjin kidnapped. I was truly hoping to avoid this conversation, but I suppose it’s inevitable now.”
Jin raised a pistol, not quite pointing it at Orden, but keeping it at the ready. “We may be having a bit more than a ‘conversation’.”
She looked at Jin with a hint of surprise, like she was seeing him for the first time. Then, blinking, she continued. “Oh, don’t be so eager for violence, Jin. I believe you’ll agree with me when you hear my motives — but even if not, I would urge you not to attempt any violence. After all, Derek was the only one of you who presented any threat to me, and he’s quite thoroughly under my control.” Orden rubbed her forehead. “Really, this is such a bother.”
Sera glanced at me, then meaningfully shifted her eyes toward Derek.
I shook my head just slightly.
Not yet, Sera, but I’m glad you’re ready.
“Okay, Professor.” I waved a hand at her. “Tell us why you kidnapped a visage.”
Orden chuckled. “Oh, it’s so much more than that, Corin. You’re thinking too small. Why don’t you ask Vera what she was doing in the tower in the first place?”
I didn’t take the bait, so I just shrugged. “Research. Artificial attunements or something like them.”
Vera winced. “That…may be a slight understatement.”
Oh, goddess curse it, Vera. What now?
Without looking away from Orden, I said, “Okay, Vera. Fill us in.”
Vera nodded. “Guess there’s no point to keeping it a secret now. You met Echion, yeah? Well, he’s the result of a joint defense project between Caelford and Valia. An extremely important project; one we’ve been working on for decades. Something that could have helped keep us safe from Edria for generations.”
Professor Orden raised a hand to her chin. “You’re still dodging the real issue, Vera. Why don’t you tell us exactly what Echion is?”
“He’s…” Vera glanced from side-to-side. “His attunement is unique. It’s not like a human attunement. It’s structured more like the power used by a god beast.”
Okay, Orden might have succeeded at deflecting our attention after all. Everyone’s eyes shifted to Vera. I replied first. “Wait, what?”
Vera scratched the back of her head sheepishly. “We’ve been able to replicate existing attunements for years. Echion is our first success at making a completely new one. It’s distinct from what the goddess grants, and vastly more powerful than any individual standard attunement. He’s still learning how to use it, but eventually…”
“Eventually he’ll be like a human with the power of a god beast,” Jin concluded.
That’s a line of research I wouldn’t mind hearing more about, but it obviously has the potential to be dangerous. And it sounds like they weren’t careful enough.
Vera closed her eyes. “That’s the light of it. We brought him here to test him in the tower, but someone must have tipped Tenjin off. Carter or Elora, I suppose. I still don’t understand why. They were both a part of the project.”
“Because you lacked foresight.” Professor Orden raised a hand and pointed up. “Tenjin was always going to find you in the tower. We just expedited the process. And we saved you from him. Tenjin would have annihilated your group. I know because he told me. I am one of his Whispers, after all.”
Vera stepped toward Orden, arms folded. “Well, if you were doing us such a great favor, you could have told us about it. And, you know, not beat the pants off of us afterward?”
Orden opened both hands in a gesture of peace. “If all had gone according to plan, you would have woken up safely in a lab with the rest of your companions — who are all safe, I assure you, and cooperating quite nicely.”
I sincerely doubt that last part, unless by “cooperating” she means “under the control of magic rings”.
Orden glanced away from Vera. “Unfortunately, Tenjin didn’t fall quite as easily as we expected. He managed to cast a spell to summon help before he lost consciousness. We were forced to grab the people closest to us and flee. Sadly, that led to Katashi finding your unconscious body at the scene and throwing you into prison. It took some time before one of my fellow companions was able to make enough adjustments to lead someone to your prison to free you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “If you had influence over the tower, why not just free her directly?”
The professor opened a hand. “If he’d simply freed Vera directly, he’d have been noticed, but Whispers work within the tower and often make layout changes. Making a trail for you just looked like he was doing an extension of his normal work. Katashi would have discovered the tampering if he checked the prison in any detail, of course, but he’s never been much of an investigator. We gave him a false enemy and he followed that lead instead.”
“Keras,” I realized. “When we freed him at the same time as Vera, he became the primary suspect. Both for me and, presumably, for Katashi as well. You used Keras to distract away from what you were up to.”
Sera pointed her sword at Orden. “And all those Edrian troops began maneuvering. Your work as well, I take it?”
“Oh, goddess, no. None of this was ever truly an Edrian conspiracy. They’re always maneuvering. I did enjoy deflecting investigations in that direction, however. I have no doubt that there truly are Edrian spies and agents in our midst, but I am not one of them.”
Orden sighed. “In fact, protecting our nation from Edrian influence is a large part of why we took the actions we did. They have had decades to grow unchecked, with full access to two towers. Our spies believe that Melkyr, one of their visages, may be training their forces directly. Our defenses are insufficient — and that is why we must take drastic steps.”
Orden turned to Vera. “Echion was an excellent start, but one artificial attuned is insufficient. Our tests indicated that he’s probably around Derek’s level of strength and still growing stronger. Quite impressive for a child, but not enough to defend a nation on his own. And certainly not both Caelford and Valia.”
“You want to make more of the new attuned,” Vera surmised. “That was always the plan, but we needed time—”
Orden waved a hand dismissively. “And that’s why we acted, darling. Because you and your friends from Caelford spent years monitoring one test sample when you could have been growing dozens. We would have given you the resources.”
Vera set her jaw. “This ‘we’ you’re referring to. It’s not just a small conspiracy, is it?”
Orden shook her head. “Not at all, dear.” She turned toward Derek. “Derek, dear, stop trying to free yourself.”
A glance toward Derek showed him tremble, then go still again.
“Now,” Orden continued, “Where were we? Ah, yes. I’m working as an extension of the Council of Lords. There is no conspiracy. Just covert actions taken without the knowledge of the general populace. All for the sake of Valia’s survival.”
I could understand the logic.
I had some moral questions about the idea of creating new attuned for the express purpose of warfare — even if they were meant to be deterrents to an invasion, rather than offensive tools — but I still could see where she was coming from.
In some senses, I wanted to agree with her. Learning to create our own attunements so that we didn’t have to send more children to die in the spires was a noble goal. Making new attunements that were better than the existing ones had a strong appeal, too. I’d be researching it myself if I had the capability.
I didn’t even mind being lied to or manipulated. I was a little hurt, but I’d be deceptive if I had to do it for a cause on that scale.
I saw flaws in Orden’s plan on other levels, though. More practical ones.
“You said before that Tenjin would have destroyed everyone if you hadn’t incapacitated him. What happens when the other visages find out about this? You can’t conceal working on a bunch of artificial attuned forever. What’s your plan?”
Orden nodded. “If you’re all willing to cooperate, I will take Vera to the rest of her team. They need her help in order to continue their studies in an efficient fashion. Vera quite wisely did not share all of her data publicly, and while I’m confident she has records somewhere in Caelford, searching for them would take some time. Cooperation would be far preferred.”
“After that,” Orden glanced from side-to-side, “Katashi would need to be dealt with. Ideally, before your little seven day deadline.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You want to kill Katashi?”
She shook her head. “No, no. Killing a visage or a fully grown god beast is a terrible idea. Their mana density is too high. They’d explode like a bomb, probably leave the city a crater. We’d have to incapacitate him somehow, ideally in a way that makes Edria look responsible. Dalenos will undoubtedly seek revenge if he vanishes. It would be best to point them in the direction of our enemies.”
Jin trembled silently, clenching his jaw tight.
I took a step closer to Orden, balling my hands into fists. “You’re talking about starting a war over a lie — and that’s operating under the assumption you could even hurt Katashi in the first place.”
Orden shrugged. “It’s not impossible. Admittedly, we knew Tenjin’s strengths and weaknesses from working for him for years, and he was always more of a scholar than a fighter. There is no doubt that fighting Katashi would be a more difficult endeavor and there would likely be terrible losses. But we are fighting for the future of our country. I’m sure you can understand that.”
I could understand that. The infuriating part was that she had ideas I could strongly sympathize — even agree with — if she wasn’t talking about starting a war to cover her covert operations. I couldn’t justify bloodshed on that scale for an experiment.
But that wasn’t even my biggest problem.
I folded my arms. “Not only is starting a war to deflect from your research horrifically immoral, it’s an unreliable plan. And you’re gambling our own nation’s survival on it.”
Orden waved a hand dismissively. “If blaming Edria doesn’t work, we’ll find another route. Perhaps we don’t need to move against Katashi. We can find a way to placate him before he deals too much damage. Maybe point him toward Keras again. It’s a manageable problem.”
I saw the bodies of the Soaring Wings that Mizuchi had left in her wake.
And, with all the resolve I could muster, I clenched my fists and said something unwise. “Leaving a trail of dead bodies in the wake of your schemes is not a manageable problem, Orden. If you truly want to protect Valia, you need to stop treating her civilians as acceptable losses.”
Orden closed her eyes. “It’s a utility calculation, Corin. I can—”
I put my hand on the hilt of my sword. “Let me stop you right there. We’ve all heard about stories of sacrificing a hundred to save a million. I get the concept. That’s not the core problem. The problem is that you’re taking a cascading series of greater risks — and several of them have the chance to wipe out the entire population of our country. If a group of freshly attuned students can figure out your plans, do you really think no one else will?”
“But you didn’t figure out my plans, Corin. You saw something amiss, and then I explained my plans. I can see you’re concerned, and that’s understandable. We need to make certain we execute each step of this plan as perfectly as possible to mitigate the very risks you spoke of. I want to work with you, not against you. If you have an alternative suggestion, I’d be glad to hear it.”
I considered that. “Let us finish our mission and deliver Vera to Katashi. Even if you want to fight him at some point, this gives you more time before he starts taking chunks out of our city. Time you can use to research him, find weaknesses like you did with Tenjin.”
“Not possible, I’m afraid. We require Vera’s assistance to expedite our research. And now that you all know my plans, I can’t risk you making contact with Katashi. You could tell him everything I’ve told you.”
Vera folded her arms. “And if I don’t want to help with your little research plan?”
Orden shrugged a shoulder. “That would be quite unfortunate — but I do have more rings.”
The smug expression on her face when she watched Vera’s fists clench was enough to finalize my decision.
I didn’t draw my sword. That would be a pointless gesture, one that might have triggered a response from her.
Instead, I offered her a final question. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance that we could convince you to surrender to us?”
Profeessor Orden didn’t even laugh this time. “Oh, Corin. No, there would be no chance of such a thing… You aren’t considering anything foolish, are you?”
I turned to Sera and said, “Signal.”
I’d always wanted to make that joke.
She didn’t laugh. She just spun, waved a hand, and said, “Wall.”
A wall of ice sprung up between us and Derek.
“Derek, break that wall!” Orden shouted.
I heard no response from the other side.
I reached into my bag, grabbed the return bell and charged it with mana, then rang it. I’d made sure that Vera, Jin, and Sera were in range.
Nothing happened.
That was when I remembered that Professor Orden had been drawing runes on the walls, presumably including anti-teleportation ones.
Vera turned and blinked at me. “Uh, that clearly didn’t work. Now what?”
I shoved the bell back in my bag. “Now we run!” I turned, opened the door to the spider webbed room, and stepped inside.
Sera, Jin, and Vera fell in right behind me.
I slammed the door shut. “Watch for the spider.”
Vera took a step closer to me. “Don’t suppose you’d be willing to lend me a weapon at this point?”
I rolled my eyes. “Just take the dueling cane off my belt, you should be used to it by now.”
She unsnapped the cane. “Great! Brings back memories.”
I sighed, reaching into my pouch and pulling out my etching rod. I knew Orden could teleport, but I could play the same way she did.
In the fountain room, I could hear something slam into the ice wall, but I ignored it and focused on drawing the anti-teleportation rune.
When something heavy slammed down behind me, ignoring it was harder.
“Uh, Corin, there’s—” Vera started.
“Great Spider,” Sera began. Her voice was barely a whisper. “I am a Summoner, and I wish to make a pact with you.”
Oh, Goddess, please let that work.
I finished drawing the anti-teleportation rune, slammed my hand into it, and shoved mana into the rune as fast as I could. I drew a second rune to make the door more resilient, charging it in seconds.
My hand stung with the effort of using so much mana that quickly, but buying us time was the best thing I could think to do.
“No pact, Summoner. I hungry.”
I spun around. Sera was holding her throat, looking ill.
I don’t know why I’d expected the spider to only be human sized, or maybe something reasonable like wagon sized.
It turned out to have a main body more like the size of a train car, with each of its legs a twenty-foot spike.
It perched on a web about ten feet up and about forty feet distant from us. From the look of those legs, it could probably cross the distance in a single jump.
“Jin, Vera, hold the door shut.” They moved to comply.
I turned my head to address the spider, reaching into my bag. “Great Spider, could we interest you in eating a delicious mana crystal instead of us?”
The spider clicked its mandibles together, then I heard a reply in my mind. “Eat you first, then eat your mana crystals.”
Okay, wasn’t expecting it to be that smart. New tactic.
I shook my head. “I’m afraid there’s a problem with that. There’s a really strong human in the room behind us, and she’s about to break in here and eat us before you can. Could I maybe convince you to seal the door behind us shut in exchange for a mana crystal? Then you can try to eat us after that.”
The spider’s legs bent.
That was the only warning we got. Fortunately, we were all looking right at it, and we had the instinct to scatter.
The spider hit the ground with a resounding crack, smashing the ground where we’d been a moment before. And then, to my surprise, reared up and…. fired? … a gigantic web out onto the door.
I was a little pleased that it’d taken my idea, even if it had tried to crush us in the process.
I was less pleased when I realized I’d dodged directly into a web, and my legs were very firmly stuck against the gooey surface.
I wasn’t the only one in similar shape. Sera had it worse, having fallen backward onto a web. She was struggling, but her whole body seemed stuck.
Vera and Jin had gotten out of the way successfully, though, and they were both opening fire.
Jin aimed straight at the creature’s head, unleashing a hail of bullets. He hit repeatedly, and the bullets sunk in, but it was unclear if they did any damage.
Vera started running toward the other side of the room, deftly dodging bits of webbing, while firing the dueling cane at the spider’s center of mass. The bolts of mana seemed insignificant striking a creature of that size, but nevertheless it let out a hiss and turned toward her. Apparently, mana blasts hurt more than bullets, at least against giant spiders. Who knew?
I drew my sword and started cutting. That didn’t help much. The sword cut effectively, but it also got stuck almost immediately. After a moment of consideration, I pushed on the mana aura around the sword and managed to finish severing the first bit of web that way.
After that, I turned and slashed the air to push a wave at the webbing sticking to my other leg. That got it free.
I ran for Sera, still struggling against her own web.
I heard a crack as something smashed into the door near us.
Derek. He’d gotten through Sera’s wall and he was coming for us.
Resh. I’d hoped we’d have more time.
Jin and Vera continued pummeling the spider with shots, but it reared up again and blasted a vast web in Vera’s direction. She managed to throw herself to the side, but it still caught her on the left arm and leg, dragging her backward with the force of the expulsion. She hit the back wall, stuck in place.
I slashed in the air, making the now-familiar gesture to project waves of energy to cut Sera free. She fell backward and hit the floor when the final piece of webbing fell away, then I helped her extract herself from the mess.
Another thud against the door, and another.
Derek’s fist broke through and stuck on the webbing, and I rushed forward to try to grab at the ring — if I could have pulled it off, maybe I could have freed him — but he retracted his arm too quickly.
The spider continued barreling toward Vera, too fast for me to catch up. I made a couple slashes in the air toward it, managing a hit against a leg, but that barely seemed to slow it down.
Jin paused to reload.
The spider reared up, ready to jam a spiked leg right into Vera’s chest.
“Wall,” Sera whispered, pointing a hand and bursting into a coughing fit.
The wall of ice shot upward from the floor, catching the spider’s front legs and pushing them upward. The spider fell backward, chittering, and I heard a voice in my mind.
“No! Stop! Food mine!”
I grabbed Sera with my left arm and began to push her forward. We needed to move. “That was great, Sera. Stay with me.”
She nodded, leaning heavily on me, and coughed again.
Resh it all, I need to do something.
“Sera, switch swords with me for a second.” We swapped blades, and I felt comforted with the familiar weight of Selys-Lyann in my hand.
I slashed at the air and pushed on the weapon’s aura, making a wave of cutting ice. The frozen blade cut deeply into the creature’s hindquarters, drawing visible blood and beginning to spread.
That caught it’s attention.
I stepped forward, letting go of Sera briefly, and unleashed a torrent of cuts.
I’d never tried pushing the slashes rapidly with this weapon. It turned out it didn’t work as well with the one I’d made. The sword’s aura was undoubtedly stronger, but after I pushed the ice away it took a few seconds to reform around the blade.
The end result was that I ended up firing out tiny, insignificant spikes of ice. They hit, but not for any significant damage — and then the spider was barreling toward me.
I heard the door behind us crack again. There were several holes in it now. The rune was slowing Derek’s progress, but he wasn’t going to take much longer.
The spider’s leg came down faster than I expected, and with all my attention focused on attacking, I failed to dodge.
Sera shoved me out of the way.
I stumbled, but didn’t fall. The gigantic leg smashed into the ground where I’d been a moment before. For a brief, horrifying moment, I thought it’d pierced Sera instead of me — but when I saw her on the ground nearby, she wasn’t bleeding. It’d glanced against her, but her barrier had stopped the blow. I could see thick cracks in the barrier, still visible around her.
The problem was that Sera wasn’t getting up.
She was conscious, but the sword had fallen from her hand, and she was only slowly pushing herself from the floor.
Another spider leg was going to pin her before that happened.
I didn’t have the strength to stop the leg from falling, even if I hit it as hard as I could.
Sera, on the other hand, was light.
I turned my gauntlet toward her and sent a burst of transference force into her. The blast slammed into her side, flipping her over and pushing her ten feet across the floor. That looked like it hurt, but the spider’s leg hit the ground harmlessly instead of pulverizing her.
Another leg hit me from behind a second later, slamming me into the ground.
There was a sharp jolt of pain in my back, accompanied by crushing pressure.
I heard a crack and felt another surge of agony.
I really hoped that wasn’t my spine buckling under the pressure.
I coughed, dropped my sword in the surge of pain, and shuddered helplessly on the floor.
I heard a hiss as the pressure relaxed. Instinctively, I rolled the moment that I was free. I was still moving when the leg came down again, smashing against my side and shattering the feeble remains of my barrier.
My phoenix sigil kicked in, the stronger barrier managing to prevent the leg from crushing me until the creature hissed and withdrew its leg.
I looked up, finding the source of the brief respite. Jin was kneeling on top of the creature’s head, repeatedly driving his dagger into the creature’s skull.
I had zero idea how he’d managed to get up there, but he seemed to be doing some damage, until it reared up and threw him right off.
I crawled to Selys-Lyann, my back flaring with agony with every motion. With the sword in my grasp, I tried to stand, but my legs failed to respond. They were feeling rather numb, too. Even if the creature hadn’t snapped my spine like I’d originally feared, it might have done some damage.
Arms seemed to be working, though. So I threw the sword.
Normally, throwing a sword is a terrible idea. Swords aren’t balanced for throwing at the best of times, and doing it without the benefit of working legs was even more difficult.
Fortunately, I didn’t need to hurl the weapon perfectly. I just had to get it airborne.
I was an excellent shot with my gauntlet.
A blast of motion hit the sword directly in the pommel and carried Selys-Lyann into the spider’s neck. It sank in down to the hilt.
I’d been aiming for the head, but hey, close enough.
Ice began to spread rapidly from the wound. The spider toppled forward, rolling on the ground with a crack, seemingly trying to dislodge the weapon without success.
Within another few seconds, the creature’s entire head was ice, and it fell still.
I was jubilant, but I still couldn’t stand.
Sera rushed over to me, one hand still clutching at her throat. She offered me a hand. I accepted it and tried to get up.
That was a mistake.
I’d never felt pain quite like what I felt in that moment. It spread from the middle of my back where the spider had hit all the way up and down my spine and into my legs.
I may have screamed.
My vision went red.
When I could see again, I felt Sera wordlessly slip a ring onto my hand.
I sent a surge of mana into it, felt the warmth spread across my back and legs in an instant.
It still wasn’t enough. I laid there for several seconds, tears forming in my eyes, before Jin managed to pick me up and throw me over his shoulder.
“We need to go.” To emphasize that, he began moving at a jog. Every impact he made against the ground sent another surge of agony through my back, only to be countered by a wash of warmth from the ring.
I didn’t know how long it would take the ring to do its work, but for the moment, I was more helpless than I’d ever been.
Glancing from side-to-side, I saw Sera and Vera moving along with us, and that Derek had busted nearly a dozen holes in the door. The pieces of damaged door were getting stuck on the webbing, so he was being forced to pull the stone pieces out before advancing. that was probably the only reason he hadn’t caught up to us already.
We passed by a newly-formed stairway, one that had soundlessly grown in the center of the room into a hole in the ceiling.
If the stairs had gone down, we might have nearly been safe, but nothing was ever quite that easy.
Jin carried me to the doorway of the next room. I couldn’t see it well from my angle, but I could tell it was open now.
“Vera, go back and get Corin’s sword. We’re probably going to need it.” Jin instructed her. I’d never heard him sound that commanding before.
“Got it,” she replied simply, running back toward the spider.
“What am I missing?” I asked. “What’s in the next room? I can’t see it.”
“You’re not going to like it.” Jin replied.
I winced as he shifted his stance. “Just tell me, we’re not exactly in great shape either way.”
“Statues shooting jets of fire.”
Oh, goddess resh it all.
I thought back to how both Jin and I had been ‘incinerated’ in the test involving fire-breathing statues and closed my eyes.
Last time I’d used Selys-Lyann to try to shield myself with ice, I’d nearly killed myself that way.
“There’s a door on the other side,” Jin continued, “But there’s also a central floor tile. I think it might be another stairway, if we can get there and trigger it somehow.”
I couldn’t think of a way I could get us there safely.
We all had barriers or a shroud, but if the flames were as intense as the ones in the test, our protection wouldn’t last very long. And Jin couldn’t possibly be mobile enough to dodge flames effectively while carrying me.
The demi-gauntlet? Useless here.
The Jaden Box? No one useful to summon and we had an anti-teleportation rune on the room anyway. Maybe the box would have overpowered the rune, but I didn’t have any good summoning options available either way.
Selys-Lyann couldn’t make walls of ice like Sera could. The aura was designed to cut and spread, not form barriers.
If she wasn’t so exhausted, if she was a bit more powerful, Sera could have made this trivial—
And maybe, just maybe, I could make her strong enough.
I tilted my head toward Sera, wincing at the renewed pain. “Sera, just how confident are you that we’re actually siblings?”
She raised an eyebrow at me, her lips twisting toward a frown.
“Asking for a good reason. I have a waterskin containing a liquid from the tower that I think is probably an enhancement elixir of some kind.” I closed my eyes. “Okay, not the time for secrecy. It’s how I got my attunement. I drank this water, I saw the goddess, and my attunement appeared. Then I saved some of the water and put a preservation enchantment on the waterskin.”
She lifted a hand to her mouth, and I heard the sickly scrape of ragged laughter before she broke into another fit of coughing.
“Anyway, the important part is that the preservation enchantment isn’t as brilliant as I thought. It contaminated the liquid inside with some of my mana. And drinking something with someone else’s mana in it is dangerous. Potentially fatal. But if we’re siblings, your mana type might be close enough to mine—”
Sera looked straight into my eyes, took a deep breath, and then extended her open hand.
I understood.
“The waterskin is in my belt pouch. I don’t think I can reach it.”
Sera moved to my side, opened the belt pouch, unstoppered the bottle, closed her eyes, and began to drink.
And, within moments, she began to glow.
I hadn’t turned my attunement back on.
As she continued to drink the fluid, her aura flickered yellow, orange, red, yellow — and began to spark.
She bent over forward, retching, but only threw up a mouthful of ichor.
And, as I watched, that ichor froze into ice.
Sera stood up, reopening her eyes.
They were ice blue without the faintest hint of white.
I’d never seen anything close to it.
Sera spun at the sound of another crack from the doorway, lifting a hand. “Wall. Wall. Wall.”
Her voice was strong again, unwavering, as the broken section of the doorway was filled with ice. More walls sprung up behind it, thicker than the ones she’d conjured before.
Sera turned back to me and shivered before speaking again. “We should go. I will forge a path.”
Sera took one more drink from the flask, grimaced, and restoppered it. Then she put it back in my pouch.
“Woah, nice work there, Sera!” Vera arrived with Selys-Lyann in hand and my other sword in her other hand. “That a mana potion or something?”
Apparently she hadn’t been able to hear the conversation from where she was standing. That was probably a good thing.
“Something like that,” Sera replied. “Corin, may I borrow your mana watch?”
I nodded and handed it to her.
Vera took a step back. “Uh, your eyes, Sera—”
“I’m fine for now. Wasn’t an ordinary mana potion.” She reached back to press the mana watch against her attunement mark. As she did, I got a look at it.
It was no longer a Summoner Attunement.
It was like nothing I’d ever seen.
Attunements always changed in complexity when they grew more powerful. Normally, it was just adding an extra line or shape to an existing design. This was a completely different style, and nothing like any one I’d seen. Not even foreign attunements.
She shivered again as she looked at the watch, then handed it back to me.
It read 968/112.
It hadn’t increased her mana capacity properly. She was filled with mana that her body couldn’t properly contain.
“Sera…” I started.
“I know, Corin. I’ll use it as quickly as I can.”
I balled my hands into fists. I couldn’t do anything else.
“Wall. Wall. Wall. Wall.”
“The way is clear,” Jin pronounced. “We should proceed.”
I reached into my bag and withdrew my etching tool again. “Bring me next to the door, then the rest of you get inside.
They complied. “Okay, turn me around so I can draw on the door.”
“I’m not sure we have time for this, Corin,” Jin noted.
“It’s going to buy us time.” I reached forward, and Jin grudgingly turned me toward the doorframe.
I scratched a rune I’d never actually powered before across a combination of the door and frame. It would only be whole when the door was closed.
“Sera, you’ve got a lung attunement. Can you charge the air near the rune with air mana?”
“Easily,” she replied, and she blew into the air near the rune.
I turned my attunement on, watching the air mana coalesce. It was fascinating. Being in the tower was improving my ability to see mana, just as I’d expected, and I hoped that would be enough to help me manipulate it as well.
I brought my hand up to the mana cloud. For a moment, I could feel it. And in that moment, I pushed it into the rune.
The rune’s halves flared, charged with power but inactive while they were apart.
“Okay, Jin. Take us in and close the door.”
Everyone was inside the room when he slammed it shut. The rune-halves met, forming a wind rune.
The door shook as the rune sent a continuous stream of wind toward where Derek was still working at demolishing the walls of ice.
I hope that’s enough to slow him down once he gets through the wall.
I kept the etching tool in hand, scratched an anti-teleport rune into the back to the door, and then charged it with my own mana.
“Okay, we can move now.”
As we moved forward, I scanned the room. Sera had been very thorough.
All four walls of the room were encased in ice. The statues were still active, breathing their fire, but the ice was thick enough that they’d barely made any progress at melting through.
We moved to the center of the room, finding the square that indicated the presence of another stairway.
Vera knelt down, touching the tile. “There’s a mechanism somewhere that moves this tile out of the way. Staircase is right under it.”
“Move out of the way.”
Vera moved.
“Ogre, I summon you.”
An ogre appeared at Sera’s side, shimmering with an icy aura across its skin. “Master,” it groaned toward Sera.
“Ogre, break through this floor tile to reveal the stairway.”
We all cleared the way.
The ogre smashed through the tile in a single blow, then took a few more moemnts to clear away the rubble. “Please the Master?”
“Yes, ogre, you’ve done well. Now, stay here and guard the top of the stairway. Don’t allow anyone to follow us down here. Don’t kill them, just incapacitate them.”
“Yes, Master. I good at stop people.” The ogre nodded happily.
I was pretty impressed. Being a powerful Summoner was useful.
“Okay, let’s head on down,” I pronounced.
“I’ll go first and check for traps,” Vera offered, heading down the stairway. After a few moments she returned. “All clear.”
My back was still in a great deal of pain, but I was starting to feel a tingling sensation — accompanied by periodic spurts of pain — in both legs. I thought that was probably a sign that I was recovering, but I didn’t know how much longer the process would take.
Jin carried me down the stairs, and Sera followed last.
“Wall.”
Sera formed a barrier of ice at the top of the stairway, right where the tile had previously stood. Not a bad idea.
Then she shivered again, and I began to worry.
“You feeling okay, Sera?”
“No time for worrying about that,” she replied. That was a bad sign.
We reached the bottom of the stairs and found a door.
Vera checked it, then opened it.
The room it led into was very familiar.
It was a two-story room with a massive stairway in the center, three doors downstairs, and pristine red carpeting covering much of the floors.
Four tall pillars stood from floor to ceiling, though one of them had a large crack from where Keras had smashed into it, and another had a huge chunk missing.
Vera sucked in a breath. “Well, I suppose this is it, then. How do we get Katashi’s attention?”
Professor Orden appeared right in front of us.
I hadn’t had time to draw an anti-teleportation rune in this room yet.
“I believe,” Orden raised her hands, lightning crackling in between them, “It’s time to teach you children how to behave.”
Chapter XXII — Permafrost
On the minus side, apparently Professor Orden had lightning magic.
On the plus side, that didn’t mean a whole lot when she was standing right next to us.
Vera must have realized that at the same time as I did. Still holding both of my swords — I really needed to stop letting her take all my weapons — Vera stepped in and started swinging. Orden dodged the first couple swings, then vanished without a word.
She reappeared about ten feet back, then hurled the lightning at us. The bolt hit Vera dead-on, then arced to hit the rest of us.
My second barrier, already heavily taxed, snapped. Only a little bit of the lightning managed to make it through, but it still hurt. I shuddered and bit my tongue hard enough to draw blood.
Jin set me down a moment later. “I need to handle this,” was all he said.
Fair enough, Jin. Go get ‘er.
“Vanniv, I summon you.”
By the time I managed to push myself into a seated position, Vanniv was floating next to Sera.
“Oh, hey, finally in the tower! Nice room, too. I dig the choice of décor.” The winged man turned his head toward me. “You look kind of terrible.”
“Yeah, thanks, Vanniv. Need you to focus.” I pointed at Orden. “She’s trying to kill us.”
“Now, that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Orden replied, forming globes of flame in her hands. “I need Vera alive at a minimum. The rest of you? Well, I’d still prefer you alive.”
I put a hand to my forehead. “Comforting. I don’t suppose you could tell me where you got another attunement? Elementalist doesn’t seem like your flavor.”
She grinned. “Just more items, darling. Give it a few years as an Enchanter, you’ll look like you have every attunement in the world, too. Unfortunately, for now, that means you’re woefully under prepared to face someone like me.”
Vanniv laughed. “Goddess, you love to hear yourself talk, don’t you? I mean, I respect that — my voice is amazing — but you’re coming on a little strong with the megalomania.”
Orden chuckled. “I think I like this one, Sera. Where’d you get him? Never mind. Doesn’t matter. I don’t know where you got enough mana to summon him, but you’re certain to be running—”
“Wyvern, I summon you!”
The vast draconic beast appeared at Sera’s other side, raising its spine-like tail.
Professor Orden blinked. “Well, you’re just full of surprises today.”
Vanniv cracked his knuckles, which briefly made me wonder how that was even possible with stone hands. “You want me to break her, boss?”
Sera nodded. “I’d prefer her alive.”
“Can do.” He flapped his way upward toward the ceiling, moving his hands apart, a lance of ice now forming between them.
“Oh, children. So overconfident. You think a couple pets are going to change the outcome here?” Orden pointed a hand at the wyvern. “Wyvern, I control you.”
The wyvern shuddered in the air, then flapped closer to Orden and landed at her feet.
That was…not a good thing at all. I’d been hoping that she didn’t actually have a Controller Attunement, but even if she didn’t, she apparently still had items that could serve that function.
On the plus side, she hadn’t tried to control us yet. Maybe controlling humans was harder? She’d grabbed Derek, but she needed a ring on his hand.
I really wished I’d taken the time to research foreign attunements.
Vanniv didn’t wait any longer; he just started throwing lances of ice at Orden. She countered the first couple by throwing the globes of fire from her hands, then the wyvern interposed itself between them with a shriek, hissing as the lances impacted its hide for minimal effect.
I didn’t see where Jin had disappeared to, but Vera was charging at Orden. Orden flickered again, appearing all the way across the room — near where I’d come up from the prison — and threw a ball of flame in Vera’s direction.
Vera jumped improbably high, taking her right over the fireball, and hurled my personally-enchanted sword. Orden side-stepped, but then Vera was arcing downward, gripping Selys-Lyann in both hands.
“Teleport.”
Orden vanished again, appearing right behind where Vera landed and sending a blast of lightning into Vera’s back.
Vera staggered, but didn’t fall. She spun around and charged again, a look of determination on her face.
In the air, Vanniv was rapidly hurling blasts of ice and lightning at the wyvern while it tried unsuccessfully to jab him with its spined tail.
Sera was concentrating. With my attunement on for a moment, I could see a trail of mana going from her hands toward the wyvern, and a net of energy forming around it. Presumably, she was either trying to re-establish control or banish the creature somehow. She wasn’t saying anything aloud, so I didn’t bother her.
I tried to stand.
That didn’t work at all.
The pain in my spine was gradually fading, and the wound from biting my tongue had already sealed, but my legs still weren’t fully functional. I was starting to get some feeling back, but my legs buckled as soon as I tried to put any weight on them.
I was fortunate to be recovering at all. Without the barriers to absorb much of the force, I probably would have been snapped like a twig.
That was little comfort when I heard the telltale cracking of repeated blows coming from back up the stairway.
Derek had almost caught up to us, and I was still helpless.
Communicate. “Uh, guys, Derek is almost here. Be ready.”
Sera nodded, but continued to focus. I had to hope that would be enough. I didn’t get a reaction from anyone else, at least that I could see.
Vera had caught up to Orden again, only to take a hit from a blast of flame at point-blank range. She shrugged it off — her shroud must have absorbed most of it — and managed to land a hit on Orden’s right arm that caused a barrier to flicker into visibility.
A thin trail of ice began to spread along the barrier where Selys-Lyann had landed.
Good.
I heard a crash from up the stairway.
Less good.
I dug into my bag for options.
I still had a bit of the flask of attunement water or whatever it was, but I had no idea what kind of effect it would have on me. The water had clearly made Sera more powerful, but she wasn’t demonstrating anything new — just extra mana. And it was clearly hurting her, too.
More mana wasn’t going to solve any of my problems. I was an unarmed Enchanter. I had no offensive or defensive capabilities to speak of.
I did, however, still have my sigils, even if they were mostly drained. I grabbed my phoenix sigil and began to pour energy into recharging it.
It was dangerous to push too much mana into it too fast. It was built to recharge itself over time, not to be recharged manually like the school-issued ones. I could feel its capacity pretty easily, though, and it was nowhere close to full. I started gradually filling it back up a bit. I needed all the protection I could get.
After that, I stuck my right hand in the Jaden Box. “Summon Katashi.”
Nothing happened, just as I’d expected. Either I needed to close the box, requiring me to remove my hand, or Katashi’s mark just wasn’t a good enough connection to summon him.
I pulled my hand out of the box.
Who else could I summon?
My standard-issue shield sigil was probably made by a university Enchanter, but I didn’t know who had made it, so I wouldn’t know what name to use if I put the sigil inside. Not good enough.
I didn’t know who’d made the bell, either, or any of my other miscellaneous items.
I had the book. I could try to summon The Voice of the Tower… But that clearly wasn’t the entity’s real name, and I doubted the box would respond to it.
More importantly, Orden worked for the Voice — or at least she claimed she had. I had to consider the likelihood that bringing the Voice to us might make things worse. We couldn’t afford worse.
I could hear footsteps on the stairs. I was out of time, and I still didn’t have any good summoning options on-hand. I needed someone on Katashi’s level of power to make a difference.
If I didn’t have anything to summon him on me, did someone else? Was there something in the room?
I scanned the area.
It was obvious that the battle between Katashi and Keras had continued after I’d left. The place was a wreck. Beyond the new chunks taken out of the pillar that I’d noted before, there were scorched sections of carpet and cleave marks taken out of several walls.
I turned my attunement back on.
I could still see Sera’s net weaving around the wyvern. The wyvern was struggling against it. I finally realized that she wasn’t trying to control or dismiss it. She was pinning it in place with some kind of binding spell, similar to what I’d seen Elora using against Keras. I didn’t realize that Sera knew a similar spell, but it made sense.
Vanniv was still smashing the wyvern with ranged spells, flapping out of the way when it managed to maneuver its tail. The wyvern was battered, but still glowing with an orange aura. Sera must have pumped a lot of her mana into summoning it, only for the creature to be turned against us.
Vera was still hounding Orden at close range, landing more hits to spread ice across Orden’s barrier. Orden didn’t look worried. She wasn’t even teleporting at this point, just dodging and retaliating with blasts of fire.
I could see a golden shroud beneath Orden’s barrier, implying at least one of her attunements was Citrine level and she was no longer suppressing it. Unsurprising, but good to know. Vera’s aura was still orange, as I’d expected.
But none of those things were what I was searching for. My eyes scanned every surface for anything glowing that looked out of place. I wasn’t disappointed. I found multiple splotches of brilliant color on pillars, on carpet, even a bit on a wall.
Dried blood.
Either Katashi’s or Keras’.
Honestly, at this point, I’d take either.
And, hand over hand, I started crawling toward the closest source — a splotch on the chamber’s central stairway.
Derek arrived at the entrance to the chamber before I got there.
“Derek’s here!” I managed to shout, hoping to alert the others in time.
Sera spun, discarding her binding web, and hurled a broad blast of frost at the doorway.
Derek’s hand twitched, then a flaming sword was in his hand, cutting through the ice.
Sera jumped backward. Then she was floating upward, carried by air mana, and hurled more blasts of ice. She winced after the third attack — the effort finally seemed to be taxing her — but Derek was undeterred, walking forward as he struck her spells out of the air.
As Sera paused between breaths, Derek rushed forward and leapt.
I twisted toward him and fired a blast from my gauntlet, but he slapped that aside with the flat of his blade.
“Wall.”
A wall of ice appeared between the two of them. Derek took a chunk out of it with a slash, but the wall was too think to part in a single strike. He impacted the surface and fell back to the ground, beginning to burrow into it with more swings.
Sera floated higher… and started to cough.
Resh. She’s running dry.
Could I get the flask back to her? No, probably not at my current angle, and giving her more was probably dangerous, anyway.
I took another shot at Derek’s back. He deflected it without even looking.
I was wasting my time.
Vanniv flew over me, the wyvern managing to smash him with a swipe of its tail as he retreated. He crashed into a nearby wall, recovered quickly, and continued to retreat.
I wanted to help him, but he wasn’t the priority right now.
I kept crawling, but the splotch on the middle of the stairway seemed like miles away.
Derek was almost done cutting through the ice wall. What could I do to stop him?
I turned my head toward him. “Hey, Derek. What’s your greatest weakness right now?”
He paused his attack immediately to turn toward me. “Arguably my susceptibility to magic rings.” He blinked. “And apparently I’m still forced to answer your questions honestly.”
I grinned. Finally, something to work with.
“Okay, Derek. What would be the easiest way to free you from the ring’s control?”
“You’d have to take it off.” He turned back to swinging at the ice wall after answering, but I wasn’t done with him.
I kept crawling, talking while I moved. I needed to keep him busy. How?
Oh, I’ve got this.
“What is everything that happens in the first book of the Blackstone Assassin series?”
It was a pretty fair gamble that he’d read it. Practically everyone in our generation had, and it was required reading in a lot of schools.
He turned toward me, frowned, and began, “Well, it’s supposed to be his life story. He begins by talking about…”
I tuned him out. More crawling, less Blackstone.
He turned back to the task of chopping at the wall, but he was clearly distracted. His swings were going slower and seemed almost aimless.
I was half way to the blood splotch when Orden appeared at the top of the stairway and turned to Derek. “Derek, stop prattling and knock these children out. Start with Sera.”
“Yes, Professor Orden.”
Resh.
I turned around, finding Professor Orden stalking toward me.
“That was a clever idea, Corin, but it’s over now.” She shook her head, preparing another globe of flame.
A glance downward showed me Vera’s location — face-down on the floor, unmoving.
I turned back to Professor Orden with a grimace. “You’re quite right, Professor. You’ve put up a great fight, but it’s time for you to surrender.”
I reached into my pouch.
“Cute. But you’re the one out of tricks.”
I raised a single eyebrow. “Am I, now?”
I threw the bell at her.
The bell rang mid-flight, but it wasn’t charged with mana anymore, so I didn’t vanish.
I fixed that with a gray mana blast from my gauntlet when it got close enough for her to be in range.
With my attunement on, I saw air mana and transference mana swell out of the bell to envelope Orden — only to dissipate with no effect.
Orden shook her head. “Adorable. You must be getting desperate to try to teleport me, Corin. Teleportation defenses are the first thing a Wayfarer learns.”
I probably should have expected that.
“Since it’s obvious you’re not going to surrender, we’ll do this the hard way.” The globe of fire in her hand swelled from fist-sized to pumpkin-sized.
There was no way my barrier could handle that, even with the amount I’d recharged it.
I raised my gauntlet, hoping to hit the sphere and combust it, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough.
Orden raised her hand to throw the sphere — and then her head jerked forward. And she fell.
Jin appeared right behind her, shaking his head. He had a pistol in his hand, facing backward. He’d smacked her over the head with it. “She really needs to stop forgetting about me.”
He kicked her body once, flipping her over and down another couple stairs, and then knelt and put a hand on her forehead. I saw a ripple of mana appear over her body. “That should keep her out for a while.
He hit her from so close that her shroud barely cushioned the blow, I realized. Not a bad tactic. But what did he just do to keep her unconscious? Was that an item or his attunement?
I was about to ask when Derek landed next to us and punched Jin straight in the chest.
Jin flew backward off the stairway and out of my sight.
I turned my gaze up to Derek. “I was really hoping that knocking her out was going to free you.”
Derek turned his head down to me. “No such luck.”
He jumped to dodge a lance of ice from Sera, then turned his gaze back toward her.
I reached forward to try to grab Derek’s ring hand, but he just pulled it out of the way and then jumped upward to swing at Sera.
Vanniv flew in the way.
Derek slashed him across the chest, drawing a streak of blood, and Vanniv crashed to the ground.
Sera screamed as Vanniv fell, and pointed a hand at Derek. “Wyvern, handle him!”
The wyvern swept downward as Derek descended from his jump, aiming to pierce Derek with its tail. He side-stepped, grabbed the tail, with his off-hand, and chopped the barbed end off with a twitch of his wrist.
Sera hurled another blast of ice at him, but he deflected it as the wyvern screamed in pain and flew backward.
Derek leapt upward again, swinging his sword and sending a golden shockwave of cutting force toward the wyvern.
The wyvern fell to the floor in two pieces, vanishing a moment later.
I blinked. That was a powerful attack. I’d never seen anything tear apart a spire guardian like that.
We were in a lot of trouble if he decided to hit us that hard.
As Derek landed, he swung a backhand. Jin reappeared, staggering with a bleeding nose.
“Not going to work on me,” Derek remarked sadly.
Sera turned her head downward. “Corin, Jin, I need you to buy me thirty seconds!”
Thirty seconds? I doubted I could buy five.
I debated options.
Jin just set his jaw and jumped on Derek’s back.
Curse it, I could do that, too.
I crawled closer and grabbed Derek’s left leg with both arms.
“Seriously?” Derek flailed and twisted, trying to dislodge us. I lost my grip first, but Jin was surprisingly strong.
That was when I first noticed Jin’s orange aura — one he’d finally stopped suppressing.
It was nowhere near as impressive as the flashing green around Derek, but it was an incredibly welcome sight.
With my grip failing, I raised my demi-gauntlet and shot a couple blasts of transference mana into Derek’s side. They failed to carry him off his feet like they would have with anyone else I’d hit, but each hit shook him and distracted him while Jin managed to slip him into a choke hold.
And while we struggled, I heard Sera incant with crystalline clarity.
“Serpent of the deepest depths,
Mother of a thousand spawn,
Power beyond mortal grasp,
I call upon our bond.
My strength to yours is nothing,
But my soul to yours demands,
Fulfill the oath we made as one,
And come to my command!
Seiryu, I summon you!”
The entire chamber vibrated.
The room flooded with the power of air and ice.
And, at Sera’s command, Seiryu the God Serpent, her final summoned monster, appeared.
It was a rampart of glistening scales of the brightest blue, its coiled form filling nearly every available inch of the chamber. It was not the full size I had seen before. Even with her enhanced mana, Sera could not have hoped to summon Seiryu at its full strength.
But this…
In Seiryu’s presence, I could do nothing but stare. Even just the aura around it was oppressive, overwhelming — and stark blue. Sapphire.
Derek, it seemed, was less impressed.
He jabbed an elbow backward, and as Jin staggered, he spun and struck Jin across the face. Jin fell backward, collapsing on the stairs.
And Sera, coughing, fell from the sky.
Seiryu moved ever-so-slightly as Sera fell, catching her atop its serpentine head. She landed hard, coughing again, but righted herself.
Even from a distance, I could see that the glow in her eyes was fading.
“Seiryu,” she pointed a hand at Derek, “Freeze that man.”
And with that, she collapsed against the serpent’s head.
Derek drew his second sword, facing the god beast head on with a look of grim determination.
Seiryu took a deep breath.
And, realizing what was about to happen, I pushed myself off the stairway.
I hit the floor just before Seiryu exhaled. My back screamed in agony, but the ring flared to keep me conscious.
The blast of permafrost from Seiryu’s jaws spread across a quarter of the room. The sole pillar that was caught in the blast cracked and fractured, and even from the floor, I felt a numbness sweep across my entire body. My barrier flickered into place, then cracked completely apart as the ice continued to slowly spread across the room.
And the breath was still going, the ice still spreading.
In a moment of clarity, I managed to reach into my backpack and pull out the cloak, awkwardly dragging it over the top of my body before the next pulse of cold washed over me.
My legs, fortunately, were already so numb from pain that I barely felt them freeze.
The cloak’s magic offered precious little protection, but it was enough to keep me conscious through the blast.
And as the cold gradually seeped away, I realized that I might have been the only one still awake and aware.
Aside from the giant god beast, of course.
I carefully extracted myself from the cloak, dragging it over my legs and feeling it begin to melt the thin layer of ice away.
Sera had slipped off the creature’s head and fallen to the floor.
Derek was still standing, frozen inside a massive block of ice that enveloped nearly that entire quarter of the chamber.
Within the clear ice, I could still see his flaming sword burning. I could still see his Emerald aura burning bright.
And I could see the ice around beginning to shiver and crack.
You have to be kidding me.
Shivering, I turned my head toward Seiryu. “Uh, Seiryu. Hi.”
The vast god beast turned its head toward me, eyes narrowing.
“I’m Corin, your Summoner’s brother. And ally, just to be clear. Since she’s out cold, I’d hope you’d be willing to help me.”
“State your will, brother of my Summoner.”
The chamber shuddered as the god beast spoke, and I trembled along with it.
“That guy she asked you to freeze is actually one of our friends, and he’s being controlled by the ring on his right hand. Any chance you could remove it and free him?”
“I can sense the ring, but it is too small. You must remove it. I will clear the necessary ice.”
A moment later, I was floating toward the frozen section of the room, and a section of ice began to visibly melt away.
That meant that the ice around Derek was cracking faster, too.
Seiryu levitated me right next to the Derek’s hand. He tried to twist it free to take a swing, but for once, I was faster.
I reached out and yanked the ring off Derek’s hand.
Derek shivered and his Emerald aura flared out.
The ice around him cracked and shattered.
And, now cleared from the ice, he turned his head toward me.
“Th—thanks.”
And with that, his aura vanished, and he fell flat on his face.
I didn’t even try to catch him. I was too startled.
With that resolved, I turned toward Seiryu. “Thank you, truly, Great One. I don’t suppose you could summon Katashi to help us sort this situation out?”
“No, that is not among my abilities.”
I nodded. “Sera — your Summoner — is she okay? Can you heal her?”
“Her condition worsens every moment I remain here.”
The creature’s face twisted into something that I assumed had to be a frown.
“I will grant her a fraction of my strength to sustain her, and then I must go.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Great One.”
The god beast’s eyes met mine. “Do not thank me. It has been centuries since a Summoner as weak as she was brave enough to approach me. I preserve my own.”
With that, the beast turned its gaze toward Sera. And then, with an almost loving motion, it nudged her with its nose and breathed outward again. There was no feeling of cold this time. From my position, I could feel only a surge of energy, almost electrical, in the air.
I saw Sera, still prone on the floor, take in a gasp of breath — and then shiver for an instant before going still.
“It is done.”
Seiryu took one final glance in my direction, dipped its head in something resembling a nod, and then vanished into nothing.
And finally, I felt like I could breathe again.
The first thing I did was crawl over to where I’d dropped my cloak when Seiryu had levitated me.
Then, with my arms sore from effort, I crawled over to Sera and draped the cloak over to her.
“It’s finally over,” I mumbled, carefully pulling fragments of ice out of Sera’s hair.
“It is.” Jin’s voice. He stood Vera, shaking his head.
I was glad to see that he was looking better. He’d wiped the blood off his nose, and though he looked a little shaky, he didn’t seem to have any other obvious injuries.
He turned his head toward me, smiling sadly. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to make that date for the winter ball, Corin.”
And then Jin fired two bullets into Vera’s back.
Chapter XXIII — Finishing Moves
I leveled my gauntlet at Jin and fired a blast of transference mana immediately, but he just stepped out of the way and shook his head.
“I really am sorry about this.” He turned his gun back to her and pulled the trigger again — only to hear a click. With a shrug, he discarded the empty gun and drew a dagger from inside his coat.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what was happening.
So I fought.
I fired again, this time managing to graze his shoulder and knock him back a few steps.
“Irritating,” he said. “But you can’t stop me. If she’s not already dead, I’ll finish it soon. Don’t worry; I have no interest in hurting you.”
“What are you doing? Stop!” I tried my legs again. The ring had been doing great work. I made it to a half-standing position before my legs collapsed under me again.
Jin sighed. “Just stay down, Corin. It’s nothing personal, but she’s a threat.”
I trembled. Not with cold this time, but with rage. “A threat? She’s unconscious, Jin!”
Jin took a step closer to her, and I fired again. He deflected the shot with his dagger, but the force of the impact nearly forced him to drop it.
Jin shook his head at me. “Not an immediate threat. A long-term threat. I can’t allow you to hand her over to Katashi. Not after everything we’ve just learned. Not after everything she’s done.”
“Okay, I can understand having moral concerns about making god beasts, but this is not the way—”
“It’s not about that, Corin.” Jin sighed. “It’s about protecting my own people.”
“We stopped Orden already, Jin. There’s no need to worry about her tricking Dalenos into a war.”
He closed his eyes. “That was never the concern, Corin.”
“What are you talking about?”
With a sigh, he reopened his eyes. “I’m not from Dalenos. I’m from East Edria.”
I clenched my hands into fists. “You. You’re the Edrian spy that everyone has been so worried about?”
Jin chuckled. “I thought your mind would jump that way. That’s why I never told you. Everyone from Edria must be a spy or a traitor. No, Corin, I’m not a spy. I’m just a student who happened to be born in East Edria.”
He shook his head, giving me a sad smile. “You want to know why I never told you I’m from Edria? Because there’s nothing but hatred toward Edria here. Never mind that I’m from the part that was conquered in the same war that Valia is always talking about.”
I…couldn’t argue with that. Not really. If he’d told me he was from Edria, even East Edria, there was no way I wouldn’t have associated him with the Six Years War. I wasn’t above judging people by their place of birth, as much as I wanted to be.
I would have to be better in the future.
I shook my head. “You gave Dalen as your last name, though.”
“My last name is Dalen, Corin. You remember the story from class about the Unbroken Queen? My family were among her retainers. Where I come from, everyone in service to a family uses their family name. Even when the queen finally perished, we kept the name.”
I nodded. “I remember the story. That still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here, though.”
“There’s no conspiracy, Corin. I’m just a transfer student. I never showed you my attunement because I’m a Mesmer. That’s an Edrian attunement. I’m Sunstone because we take our tests at a younger age. I’m not an assassin. I’m not even that much of a patriot, truth be told. But when I hear people are making artificial attuned to use as weapons against my home? I pay attention.”
“Only for defense,” I tried, but the line sounded weak, even to me.
Jin tightened his hand into a fist. “Right, right. I’m sure they’d never realize that they had enough weapons on leashes to try them out. Maybe just wipe a small city off the map to scare Edria a little. You know, as a defensive measure. With acceptable civilian losses. It’s not like they’d be Valian citizens.”
I clenched my jaw. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe someone would use an artificial attuned like that. But you’ve seen Vera. You saw her with Echion. She treated him like a brother, not a weapon. She’s one of the ones that would try to stop this kind of madness.”
He shrugged. “Might be true, but right now? My best bet here is to make sure she never makes it to Katashi — so that he launches the attack that he promised you. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll be thorough enough to eradicate the monsters on your council that were pulling the strings on this whole plan.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And the people who live near the tower? Our civilians? Katashi said he was going to send Seiyru next time, Jin. The real Seiryu — not a manifestation like Sera made. A fully-grown god beast, unleashed with the purpose of destruction. That’s exactly the type of thing you’re trying to stop!”
Jin’s jaw tightened and he turned his head to the side, unwilling to meet my gaze. “You’re right. I’m behaving just like Orden, in a sense. I know that. I value my home over yours. And, if need be, I’m willing to sacrifice your home in order to save mine. Maybe that makes me just as much of a monster as the people I’m fighting. Maybe it’s just human nature.”
“I won’t accept that.”
I pushed my hands against the ground.
I clenched my jaw.
And, with trembling legs, I stood.
I flexed my legs experimentally. I felt a momentary surge of pain in the right one, but it held. “I won’t accept that either of our nations has to suffer a tragedy. And I will find a way of stopping it — even if that means stopping you.”
Jin stepped into a dueling stance, knife pointed toward me. “Even if you have to kill me?”
I clenched my hands into fists. “I’d really rather avoid that. But I’ll do what I have to do to stop a slaughter.”
Jin laughed. “You’ve got more spirit than sense. But that’s something I like about you. Unfortunately, Vera is going to bleed out here, and she’s not conscious. You can’t save her even with the ring.”
I nodded. “Another problem I’ll solve after I’m done with you.” I took a step forward tentatively, then another. I was unarmed, but I led with my right hand. It was tingling from using the gauntlet as much as I had, but I still had a fair bit of mana left.
“Not every problem is solvable with the tools you have on hand.” Jin stepped closer, almost in knife reach. We began to circle each other.
“Then,” I replied, “I’ll make more tools.”
I pointed my hand at him and fired. Jin dodged to the side, just as I’d expected, and attempted a shallow jab. I deflected it with the gauntlet.
We circled each other further. My legs trembled with the effort, moments from failing.
He must have seen the weakness. He stepped forward and tried to trip me.
I let him.
Staying standing had never been a viable part of the plan. Not with the condition I was in.
Instead, when he stepped in, so did I. I grabbed his arms and dragged him right down onto the floor with me.
We hit the ground hard.
Unfortunately, he was on top. Fortunately, I still had a good grip on his arms, and they were half-way pinned beneath me.
He started maneuvering immediately, trying to get his knife into a striking position.
I slammed my forehead into his already injured nose.
Jin recoiled, but his shroud stopped most of the damage, and I was dazed.
He pulled his arms free of my weakened grasp and jammed his dagger into my left arm. I screamed, flailing my right arm free, and tried to reach for something vulnerable. We were pressed too close together for me to hit his face.
But that wasn’t what I was aiming for.
I grabbed the phoenix sigil pinned to his chest, felt the mana inside — still almost full — and took a deep breath.
And then I flooded the sigil with mana far, far too fast.
Jin tried to pull away, but I had a good grip, and he was far too late.
The sigil exploded in my hand. Metal shrapnel and mana lanced out in both directions — into my gloved hand and into Jin’s chest.
The feeling of metal splinters in my hand was a new kind of pain. One that even the ring couldn’t banish immediately.
But as Jin fell backward, I knew it had hit him a lot harder. The sigil was too close to his skin for his shroud to do anything to protect him, and his tunic didn’t provide nearly as much protection as a thick leather gauntlet did.
He’d had the pin over his right breast. I’d hoped that wasn’t close enough to pierce his heart.
Jin screamed as he fell off of me, clutching at his chest.
I shivered on the ground, in too much pain to do much of anything.
Neither of us noticed Vanniv, still bleeding profusely from the gash across his entire chest, one wing entirely missing and half of his body still enshrouded in ice, until he lifted Jin with a single stone hand and punched him in the face.
Jin fell unconscious to the ground.
Vanniv looked down at me, shook his head, and pulled the dagger out of my arm. “No mana left. Been like holding my breath just to keep myself here this long. It’s up to you now.”
And with that, Vanniv vanished.
I was too preoccupied with pain to do anything for several moments.
The ring continued to work, but it was clearly overtaxed. It wasn’t doing a thing for the knife wound and very little for the shrapnel.
My first action was to try to dig as much of the shrapnel out of my hand as I could. With that done, those wounds sealed quickly.
I was pretty sure I still had some metal fragments in my skin, but I couldn’t reach them all with the glove on, and I was running out of time.
With my strength failing, I limped toward Vera’s fallen body, and I opened my pouch.
She was unconscious and bleeding bad.
And as Jin had claimed, my ring couldn’t help her. Not in that state.
I emptied out my bags. First the one on my waist, then my backpack.
And from there, I got to work.
I started with the rock.
Then, with my etching tool, I carved nearly identical runes to the ones that had been found in the ring, but I omitted the trigger rune. The one that required the user to send a bit of mana into it to turn the device on.
I replaced it with a different trigger rune. One from the bell, which caused it to activate when someone shook it if sufficient gray mana was inside.
The “ringing” part wasn’t relevant. It was just detecting movement.
I had the ability to power most of the runes myself. The mental runes to detect her condition and find her injuries, the gray mana necessary to activate it, and the transference mana necessary to push all my mana into those runes.
I didn’t have the most critical type: life mana to cause the actual healing.
But I did have three beautiful Class 3 life gems from a trio of slimes.
It was experimental. I’d never seen a healing item that activated when shook. I didn’t know if it would work, and if it did, I knew there was a chance that triggering it would detect me as the injured party if I just shook it over her.
So, with the utmost care, I charged all of the runes, set the now-enchanted rock on top of Vera’s back, and shook her body.
I turned on my attunement.
It was working.
Golden life energy was flowing from the rock into her back, and then across it, finding the bullet wounds. I didn’t know if it would expel the bullets, but if nothing else, it seemed to be repairing some of the damage.
I didn’t have the medical expertise to know if it would have been wise to try to dig in for the bullets with some kind of implement, so I didn’t try.
I still had every confidence the situation could get worse at any time.
And so, the next thing I did was pick up the Jaden Box and my flask of endless water.
With them in hand, I pushed my way over to the closest bloodstain I could find. I drizzled water onto the blood and then used my hand to sweep as much of the mix as I could into the box.
I closed the lid of the box. “Summon Katashi.”
Nothing happened.
So, I swept the liquid out, found another spot, and swept that in.
Closing my eyes, I tried again.
“Summon Katashi.”
A felt an overwhelming burst of pressure and fell to my knees.
When I opened my eyes, Katashi was floating above me. He turned his gaze downward, his eyes narrowing as he assessed my condition.
“Corin Cadence. You would be wise to speak your reason for this insolence.”
I pointed a hand toward Vera’s fallen body. “I brought Vera here like you asked, but she’s badly hurt and I don’t know if my item will be enough to save her.”
Katashi looked at Vera, then back to me. “How did this come to be?”
“Ah, yeah, you’re not going to like that. You were absolutely right. There were people in the government working to keep both Vera and Tenjin’s locations concealed. One of them was Professor Orden,” I pointed at her body. “She acted like she was helping us, then stabbed us in the back half way through. As you can see, we barely survived the confrontation.”
Katashi nodded his head. “Then, given the circumstances, I will forgive your insolence in summoning me — though I am curious as to how you managed such a feat. You are no Summoner, and even if you were, my mark on your hand should not have been a sufficient bond.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but his eyes turned to the box in my hands and he spoke again. “The Jaden Box. I had thought it lost forever. We will speak of this more when I have assured that Vera will survive.”
“If it isn’t too much to ask, can you please heal my companions as well? Sera and Derek at least. They meant no harm. And Jin, well,” I turned my head in his direction.
Jin was gone.
I turned on my attunement immediately, searching for him. If he was invisible, I could probably catch a hint of his aura.
But no, he was completely gone.
And so was the return bell.
I’d never sealed this room against teleportation.
And I’d made him an item that dampened sound.
I grit my teeth. “Never mind Jin. Can you please help Sera and Derek as well?”
“Any who were harmed in the service of the task that I gave to you will be healed.” Katashi pronounced.
He floated over to Vera first, landing and kneeling down.
He stared at my rock for a minute curiously, reached down, then seemed to change his mind and left it there.
Even gods can’t comprehend my enchanting skills.
I laughed in spite of myself, feeling a fresh surge of pain.
Katashi, fortunately, ignored my outburst.
He pressed his hands against Vera’s back. A surge of blue energy enveloped her. I watched as bullets appeared in the air above her. He’d teleported them out. In another moment, they fell, and he continued to pour mana into her.
Vera stirred, not waking, but her breathing seemed to ease.
Katashi rose and floated to Derek next. It wouldn’t have been my choice, but I didn’t complain.
He knelt and put a hand on Derek’s shoulder.
“This one does not require my help. He is simply fatigued and frostbitten. He is strong. He will recover on his own.”
I nodded.
Katashi landed next to Sera, putting a hand on her back.
And he frowned.
“This… She has been deeply scarred from the overuse of mana.”
Katashi turned his head toward me, shaking it slightly.
“I can treat her pain and save her life, but I cannot heal her entirely. Perhaps my sister could, but this is beyond my abilities. I will do what I can.”
A blue glow washed over Sera. She sighed, seeming to relax, but I winced at Katashi’s words.
He turned toward me. “It is not often that I am incapable of granting a request to one who has done me a service, but her wounds are deep. She may never speak properly again. When this is concluded, I will see to it that she receives recompense for her sacrifice.”
I considered his words. “You mentioned a sister that might be able to help. Can you tell me which one you spoke of?”
The visage nodded. “If it is healing for your sister you seek, Ferras may be able to aid you.”
I nodded. Ferras was the Visage of Creation. It made sense that she would be even more potent as a healer than other visages. “Thank you, Visage.”
The visage stood up to his full height, looming over me once again. “You have completed your duty in bringing Vera to me, but my brother remains missing. You claim that this Orden was involved in keeping him from me; I will now find the truth of your words.”
Katashi floated over to where Orden had fallen.
This time, he did not kneel to treat her wounds.
He raised a hand — and she floated, suspended in the air, still unconscious.
Katashi placed a hand on her forehead and his eyes narrowed. “Your memories to mine.”
A crackling mana surrounded them both as my eyes widened at the implications of what he was doing.
Katashi pulled his hand back.
Orden crumpled unceremoniously back onto the stairs.
He turned his head to me. “It is true. She betrayed my brother and lured him into a trap. But she is not the only guilty one. Vera, too, must be judged for her involvement.”
That sounded pretty rough.
Looking at Orden’s fallen body, I wasn’t even sure if she was alive.
I stepped closer to Katashi, looking up. “Go easy on Vera, please. She came here willingly and she fought hard to meet with you.”
Katashi lowered his gaze to meet mine. “I will take your suggestion into consideration.”
I winced at his tone. “Thank you.”
And then I got out of his way.
He appeared next to Vera, kneeling down and putting his hand on her head. “Your memories to mine.”
Vera shivered on the ground, but I watched carefully and she was continuing to breathe.
I didn’t know what I would have done if she had stopped breathing, but I had a feeling it would have been something unwise.
Katashi turned to me, standing up straight and floating back up a few inches. “Vera is not directly responsible for my brother’s disappearance. She was a piece moved by another hand. She still will answer for her role, but I will spare her life.”
“I… I appreciate your mercy, Visage.”
Katashi vanished and reappeared directly in front of me, looming over me. The pressure from his aura forced me down to my knees. “There is another question to be settled, however.”
He put a hand against my forehead. “Tell me honestly, Corin Cadence. Were you involved in my brother’s disappearance in any way?”
I froze at his touch. “Not that I am aware of, Visage. Though it would seem I may have been manipulated in the aftermath.”
“Yes,” he replied. “I sense the truth of your words. There is no question of your innocence. It would seem that you were unaware of your brother’s actions.”
I trembled as he withdrew his hands. “My…brother?”
“In Lyras Orden’s memories, I have discovered her fellow conspirators. Among them is one of your House — Tristan Cadence.”
Tristan was alive.
I took a moment to process that.
Tristan was alive.
And he’d been working with Orden.
I’d often been accused of talking too much, but in that moment I had no idea what to say.
“I…can honestly say, Visage, that I had no idea that Tristan Cadence was even alive. I had hoped that he was, but not like this.”
“I will be forced to seek your brother for further Judgment. Your cooperation will not reflect on his punishment.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
I just stood there and shook.
“Remove your glove.”
I numbly followed his instructions, wincing at the muted pain from the remaining shards in my hand.
He took my hand, sending a surge of mana into it. “I, Katashi, Visage of Selys, Judge that you have fulfilled your obligation to me. Let this mark become one of Glory, no longer of Judgment.”
The mark on my hand shifted — both in visible shape, and I could sense, of the type and quantity of mana within.
In fact, I was reasonably confident he’d just given me a new attunement.
I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“With what I have learned, I must shut the tower. Vera and Lyras Orden will remain here. I will send you and your other companions away from here.”
I nodded without replying. My mind was swimming.
Tristan.
Was.
Working.
With.
Orden.
How was that possible? Had he never failed the test? Had he just decided not to come home?
My hands clenched and unclenched. I had so many questions.
“Gather your things and go stand with your sister.”
I quickly complied, sheathing both of my swords and gathering everything I could in my bags, including the Jaden Box. If he wasn’t going to complain about me keeping it, I was keeping it.
I took the rock of regeneration, too. With Katashi’s healing, Vera’s wounds had completely closed. She didn’t need it. Sera and I, on the other hand, were both still in terrible shape. And I knew regeneration had a better chance of healing permanent and near-permanent injuries than instant healing did.
Katashi waved a hand. Derek’s body levitated and settled next to the two of us.
“Before we go… Will we be safe? Orden implied that we were opposing highly placed people in our government.”
Katashi nodded. “A valid concern. I will send you to someone powerful enough to protect you. Tell him that this is what he owes me. He will understand what I mean.”
I nodded.
“Thank you. And, one last thing. You said you would give my sister a boon for helping you, since you couldn’t heal her?”
Katashi floated over to us. I took a step back as he drew his sword of blue crystal.
He flipped it around, holding it by the blade and extending it toward me. “This is Ceris, the Song of Harmony, forged from the heart of a long-broken world. It has served me for many centuries as a tool of Protection and Judgment. It will now sing for Sera Cadence — so long as her mortal heart continues to beat. After that, it will return to me, as it always has.”
…the visage was giving Sera his sword.
Patrick was going to turn into some kind of jealousy elemental when he found out about this.
I knelt and accepted the sword with reverence. “Thank you, Visage. I am confident she will be pleased by this generous gift.”
Katashi gave me a curt nod. “This is as it should be. Now, you must go.”
“Thank you, Visage.”
Katashi waved his hand in a cutting motion — and my surroundings changed.
* * *
We appeared next to a campfire.
Sera and Derek were still unconscious, so they just sort of flopped on the ground.
I was still kneeling with Katashi’s sword held awkwardly outward.
This was probably somewhat alarming to the lone figure who had been sitting on the forest floor, eating a chicken leg.
For that reason, I probably shouldn’t have been surprised when he was on his feet in an instant, and suddenly he was armed and I wasn’t.
Ceris landed blade-first in a nearby tree.
And Keras Selyran stood over me, a glimmering silver blade in his hands.
Given the speed with which he moved, I was unclear on whether or not he’d just disarmed me with his sword or with the chicken leg.
His eyes narrowed.
I froze.
He tilted his head to the side. “Wait, aren’t you Corin Cadence?”
I nodded. “Yes?”
And then he laughed, his sword disappearing back into the scabbard at his side. “Oh, Corin. Sorry, I didn’t recognize you immediately. Don’t sneak up on me like that. What are you doing here?”
I let out a sigh.
“That is, I’m afraid, something of a long story.”
Epilogue — Cadence
I told Keras a long story.
Specifically, I told him almost everything that had happened in the last several months.
I didn’t mention anything about the memory crystal I’d watched with him fighting against the Council of Lords. I did not want him to know that my mother was one of the people he’d been fighting.
If Katashi was assigning Keras to watch over me, I wanted to make sure I kept him on my good side. I had no idea how he’d react to the news that she’d been one of the ones attempting to arrest him, but I couldn’t imagine it would be a positive response.
If I survived long enough, I’d have to get a letter to my mother to explain what I knew about the situation. Talking to her in-person would be even better if I could arrange it. We had a lot to discuss.
Keras rubbed his forehead in the aftermath of hearing my tale. Without the mask, he was a surprisingly normal-looking guy. “Sounds like you’ve had a rough few weeks. Uh, want something to eat?”
“You know what? Yeah, I could eat.”
Sera and Derek were both still unconscious. I’d put the rock of regeneration on Sera’s stomach and activated it before getting into my story, and I could tell it was still working on her, but I didn’t know if it would be sufficient to help her lungs.
Keras offered me bread, cheese, and chicken, which I accepted gratefully. We ate in quiet for a while. He seemed content to focus on the food.
After finishing my meal, I shook my head and tried to focus. “So, where are we?”
“We’re near the Edrian border. I’ve been out here for weeks, patrolling for anyone or anything particularly dangerous trying to slip through.” Keras shook his head. “Was doing it as a favor for Katashi. I’m glad you showed up, since it sounds like I’ve been wasting my time.”
I nodded. “Yeah… Unless Jin happens to come by this direction.”
Keras shook his head. “Not likely. From what you told me, he didn’t do anything that’s likely to set off alarms for the local government. You’re one of the only ones who walked out of that room with any information on what he did. He might have just gone back to the school. No one else would know the difference.”
I felt a cutting pain in my chest when I thought about Jin. My fists clenched.
I’d almost killed him. Jin, who’d exaggerated his mysteriousness to fit in. Jin, who’d worn a disguise to steal for me, then asked me to a ball.
He’d probably saved my life at least once, too.
Had I been right to stand in his way?
I’d saved Vera, sure, but what would the consequences be for Jin?
And what about on a broader level? How was Katashi going to react when he discovered what Orden and Vera had been up to?
I’d been trying to avert a crisis, but the long-term results of my actions were impossible to know.
I tried to dismiss that line of thought and focus on the conversation. “Even with Orden and Vera in Katashi’s custody, Orden’s compatriots are still going to be doing those experiments. Jin might head back home to report.”
“If he did, he wouldn’t go through the wilderness in the middle of nowhere. I’m only here because this is a remote location that I’d tracked some Edrian troops to. Jin doesn’t have any reason not to just take a train if he wants to go home.”
I didn’t think there was a train that went all the way into East Edria, but Keras had a point.
I took a breath. Then another. I took a moment — just one — and used it to breathe. For the first time in years, I felt lost.
Not just because of Jin. I still didn’t know what I’d do if I saw him again, but that wasn’t even my biggest concern.
Tristan was alive, and he’d been working with Orden.
Could Katashi have been wrong?
I doubted it. He’d taken that knowledge directly from Orden’s mind.
Maybe I should have asked more questions, but I was just too shocked.
I turned to Keras, exhausted and fighting a wave of helplessness that tried to wash over me. “What do I do?”
The swordsman shrugged. “You push forward. You’ve had a rough time, sure, but you can’t let it break you. You’ve got some loyal friends. There’s no substitute for that. Sounds like you’ve still got a couple of them back at the school that are probably worried about you. We should meet up with them and fill them in.”
I nodded at that. “You don’t have to stay here?”
“Not one minute longer than I have to. I was here because Katashi had suspicions about Edrian manipulation in all this. I’m here on his behalf. If I’m supposed to be guarding you now, that’s a new and frankly far more entertaining way to spend my time.”
“Wait. So you’ve been working for Katashi this whole time?
Keras shook his head. “Oh, no, nothing like that. You remember that time I was fighting him in the tower?”
“No, clearly I’d forget about something like that.” I rolled my eyes.
Keras laughed. “Yeah, that was a good scrap. Been a while since I’ve had one of those. Anyway, after I frustrated him by not dying for a while, I talked him into a truce. Showed him I wasn’t involved in his brother disappearing and all that. He was still angry at me for helping Vera and Echion escape, so I agreed to do him a few favors. In exchange, he’d give me what I’d come to the tower for in the first place when I finished.”
He just called a fight with a visage a ‘good scrap’. I didn’t know if he was bragging or just some kind of foreign god. Possibly both. “What were you there for?”
“Wanted to meet your goddesss. We’ve got some business to discuss. I think Katashi is still going to make me climb the spires, but hopefully if I get this done he’ll at least write me a letter of introduction or something.”
“Spires? Plural?”
Keras nodded. “Pretty sure I need to climb all of them if I want to meet her. Seems a little excessive to me, but at least they’re good exercise. And I like the variety of monsters.”
I…didn’t even know what to say to that, so I changed the subject. “I heard that someone from Dalenos was trying to arrest you. Did you get that cleared up?”
The swordsman winced. “Yeah, Katashi called them off a few weeks ago. I believe they’ve informed the local government as well, but we’ll keep our heads down just in case.”
That would probably make dealing with my mother somewhat easier, but I decided I’d still try to keep them apart if possible. Assuming she was still on business in Dalenos that would probably be simple enough.
I did my best to smile. “Glad to hear you got that cleared up. So, when can we head out?”
“First thing in the morning. Your friends aren’t in any condition to move, and it’s a good five miles to the train station.”
I was not looking forward to that walk. Even now, my legs were barely functional. “Uh, right. You wouldn’t happen to have extra sleeping gear?”
“Oh, you cold? I’ve got a bedroll and a blanket you can use. No tent, sorry. I usually go without.”
I nodded, glancing at my unconscious companions.
Keras must have noticed my concern. “I wouldn’t worry about them. Your cloak should keep Sera very comfortable. As for the other guy? If he’s really a Hartigan, he’ll be fine.”
“You know House Hartigan?” I turned my head back to Keras in surprise. “Thought you were a foreigner.”
“Oh, I know House Hartigan quite well. Friend of mine learned quite a bit from Blake Hartigan, in fact. They’re pretty prominent where I come from, too.”
“Huh.” I’d always been under the impression that most of our noble houses had come across from the mainland in their entirety during some sort of cataclysmic event, but maybe that wasn’t accurate. “Fair enough. Well, good night, then?”
Keras gave me a smile that seemed very… genuine. Friendly, even. “Don’t worry about anything. I’ll keep watch over the camp. You’re safe.”
Safe.
After the last day, I had a hard time believing that, but I decided to do my best to pretend.
* * *
I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I woke up abruptly to the sound of clashing steel.
It took me a moment to orient myself. I found Derek and Keras staring each other down, blades crossed.
I stammered out words. “Woah, both of you, please calm down.”
Derek’s gaze flicked to me. “This man is a wanted criminal.”
Keras grunted. “I’m cleared of all charges, actually. I’d be glad to explain if you’d lower your weapon.”
“Not going to do that until I’m convinced we’re safe. Corin, what happened?”
I sat up. “It’s safe, Derek. Katashi sent us to Keras. We’re all on the same side.”
Well, more or less. But I’m not going to complicate things further by bringing up the political complexities of our situation.
Derek’s eyes narrowed. “You’re absolutely certain of this?”
“Yes, Derek. Believe me, if Keras wanted us dead, he could have easily killed us by now.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Derek took a step back, sheathing his weapon. “But if Katashi sent us here, I suppose it’s probably safe.”
Keras sheathed his own weapon. “I appreciate that you’re willing to listen to reason.” He reached out with his hand. “And you’re quick with those blades. I wouldn’t mind testing your skills at some point under friendlier terms.”
Derek hesitated for just a moment before accepting the gesture, grabbing Keras wrist. “I’ll look forward to it.”
With that resolved, I went back to sleep.
* * *
The walk to the train station was grueling, but not as bad as I’d expected. The ring had done wonders for my injuries overnight. I was still limping, and I had to stop frequently due to tremors in my right leg, but I felt mostly functional.
I’d kept the rock with Sera overnight, hoping it might do a bit to repair the damage to her lungs, but I knew it wasn’t likely.
Keras used some kind of magnetism magic to pull the remaining metal shards out of my right hand. It was painful for a few moments, but the ring worked quickly to repair the damage.
Sera and Derek were both up and seemingly in good health, for the most part.
Derek had a killer headache. I offered to loan him the ring for a few minutes to get rid of it. He just looked at me like I was a madman. Given his last experience with magic rings, yeah, maybe that wasn’t such a good suggestion. So, he just contented himself to complain a little bit here and there.
Sera was in the worst shape. She kept trying to talk, but not a sound issued from her lips. Occasionally, she’d still break into fits of coughing, and we had to stop on two occasions when she had trouble catching her breath.
When I went to measure the mana in her attunement, Derek and Keras both got a look at her mark.
“Never seen anything like it,” Derek offered. “It’s not a standard attunement.”
Keras leaned a little closer. “Huh. Haven’t seen many Dominion Marks with that degree of complexity around here.”
I stared at him. “Do you know what it does?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, don’t recognize that one. I know some people who might, but they’re not here.” He frowned. “Unless Wrynn is. She’d probably know.”
“Wrynn?” I asked.
“Wrynn Jaden, the one who made your box. If she’s still around here, we could try to track her down. I’m a little worried about her, truth be told. It’s not like her to leave her box behind anywhere, for any reason. When that thing recharges in a few months, we might want to try to summon her with it.”
I nodded absently. Jaden was supposedly hundreds of years dead, but considering who the suggestion was coming from, I decided he probably knew what he was talking about.
I liked the idea of meeting Wrynn Jaden eventually, but for the moment, I had other plans for the box.
I pressed the mana watch against Sera’s attunement.
It displayed 0/0.
That was not a good sign at all.
I turned to Keras. “You wouldn’t happen to have any way of fixing mana scarring, would you?”
He shook his head sadly. “Sorry, Corin. I’m not a healer.”
I wasn’t sure how to phrase my follow up question, so I just asked. “I don’t want to be rude, but… what are you? Are you another visage? Or a servant of the Tyrant in Gold?”
Keras just laughed. “I’m neither of those, I assure you. I’ll have to think about the best way to explain. Every time I’ve tried to tell people around here about my abilities it’s ended poorly.”
A fair answer, but I still wanted to know more. I had so many questions.
I turned back to Sera, patting her on the shoulder. “We’ll find a way to get you healed.”
Sera nodded back to me. Her eyes were filled with determination.
And, fortunately, she did seem to like the new sword.
* * *
The train ride took about ten hours.
Derek and Keras spent most of that time bantering with each other, and I was pretty sure they went out and had a sparring match on the roof of the train at one point.
Sera and I couldn’t talk to each other, but I felt closer to her than I ever had. We sat next to each other, exchanging notes. Fortunately, Keras had paper and he’d been willing to give it to us for a good cause.
Her first note was particularly endearing.
Corin,
Stop thinking about going after Jin.
You have more important things to worry about, like the things that I want.
Also, possibly the friends who didn’t betray us. They’re somewhat important, too.
Sincerely,
Sera
Signing and addressing it was completely unnecessary, given we were right next to each other, but it was so very Sera that it made me feel better.
She was right, of course.
It was probably better that I didn’t try to find Jin again immediately. The wounds were too fresh for both of us, both metaphorically and literally. There was a reasonable chance he’d want to kill me when we saw each other again, and I couldn’t blame him for it.
But I wasn’t going to blame myself, either.
I was going to move forward.
* * *
It took a while to find Marissa and Patrick.
This was because, rather than being in their rooms, they had been waiting outside of the tower for us.
When we hadn’t made it back the first night, they’d camped out together.
Even after all Patrick had done for me over the course of the year, I still didn’t know how to respond to displays of loyalty and concern like that.
It was so good to see them.
They were glad to see me, too, if a little surprised by the company. Surprised and maybe a little alarmed.
Keras was wearing his mask again now that we were in town. He got some strange looks, but no one approached us to ask about it.
After an aborted attempt to explain everything, Derek pointed out that we should not be discussing everything that had happened in public. He escorted us to one of his homes. It was a small manor only about a mile away. Apparently, it was where he stayed when he was preparing to go on a climbing expedition.
And it was, fortunately, already very-well magically protected. I inspected the runes on the walls on my way in. Some were familiar, like anti-scrying and anti-teleportation, but others were new. I’d have to write them down later.
We sat in an opulent living room while Derek and I explained to everyone what we’d encountered. Keras spent most of the time doing some kind of meditation exercise with his sword, since he’d already heard it all from me.
When we finished, Patrick was a combination of excited and incredulous. “So, Professor Orden was the traitor?”
I sighed. “No, Patrick. If you want to get technical, I was probably the closest thing to a traitor. Apparently all this was something our government approved of.”
Derek raised his hands in a halting gesture. “Woah, slow down there, Corin. Orden might have overstated her support a bit there. She might have members of the Council of Lords supporting this little endeavor, but certainly not the whole thing. My mother is on the council and the first she’d heard of this was when I brought it to her attention.”
I frowned. “How’d you find out about all this, anyway?”
He sighed. “Elora. Dear, darling, Elora. She told me all about it after she’d helped abduct Tenjin and the others. She was so excited. Thought I’d just automatically approve of her idea to kidnap our allies and the visage we worship. How could I have possibly disagreed?”
That made sense. He’d mentioned having a falling out with Elora Theas. I’d assumed it was just some kind of petty lover’s quarrel.
Apparently, it was much more serious than I’d given him credit for. And, to be fair, maybe Derek himself was a little more serious than I’d realized.
I was grateful to have him on my side. If he’d taken Elora’s side in this, it would have been a catastrophe. He’d have stopped us from ever getting Vera to the tower.
“Think this is a bit much for us students to be dealin’ with.” Marissa tapped her fingers on the edge of her chair. “Not to be discountin’ the help of m’lord Hartigan and m’lord — what was it, Selys-something?”
“Selyrian,” Keras corrected. “It just means ‘from near the city of Selyr’.”
“Oh, got that. Right, so not to be saying yer not important an all, but if they bagged a visage—”
Keras came over and sat down on a couch next to me. “No offense taken. I mean, I could handle fighting the whole government here in a straight fight—”
Derek leaned forward toward Keras. “Do we need to take this to the roof?”
Sera scribbled a note and passed it to me.
I read it and laughed. “Sera would like you to keep it down here. She says she ‘wants to watch’.” I waggled my eyebrows in implication.
Everyone laughed.
It was a good sound.
I turned my head. “But, more seriously, Marissa had a good point. We’re going to need more than a handful of people if we all agree we want to do something about this.”
Derek turned his head to me. “Well, if we’re just talking about rescuing Tenjin, we’ll have Katashi’s support. That may come with support from a number of noble families, both locally and in Dalenos. If you’re talking about stopping people from making artificial attuned, that’s much more complex.”
I shook my head. “I’m not worried about that, so much as saving the people that Orden kidnapped and trying to make sure that Orden and her allies didn’t destroy our alliance with Caelford out of greed.”
Derek nodded. “That’s more or less what I’ve been thinking, too. I’m sure this is a lot for all of you to take in. Don’t worry about anything tonight. I’ll take care of making sure we’re safe here.”
Patrick frowned. “Will we be able to go back to class tomorrow?”
I hadn’t even thought about that. It seemed so unimportant compared to everything else going on. It was a valid question, though. We needed to figure out what types of things we were safe to do in general. We needed an overall plan of action on how to proceed.
I was just so tired. I couldn’t think about it in detail. Not yet.
I turned to him. “You and Marissa are probably fine. I don’t think anyone has any idea of your involvement at this point… aside from Professor Teft.”
Derek leaned back in his chair. “I don’t think Teft was on Orden’s side in this. If he was, Orden wouldn’t have bothered taking me with her to the tower. A reliable ally would have been better than bringing me along and trying to control me.”
I folded my arms. “Unless she knew you were aware of the situation and she was planning to get rid of you, too.”
Derek shook his head. “Too much of a risk, even for her. No, if she had another attuned she could have counted on that was of a similar power range to ours, she’d have brought him or her instead.”
I considered that. “Why didn’t she bring Elora, then?”
Derek rubbed his forehead. “Elora’s been missing for a couple weeks. I’m not sure where she went. Might be that she’s the one guarding the prisoners right now. I don’t believe what Orden said about them cooperating for a second.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, unless her idea of cooperation involves more of those control rings. Which it probably does, but I imagine they wouldn’t last forever on their own.”
“She’d probably use self-recharging rings. They could last indefinitely if that’s the case.” Derek sighed. “Can’t believe I let her give me a ring.”
Keras snickered. “I’m sure a lot of people say that at some point in their lives.”
Derek rolled his eyes. “Okay. You don’t get to talk anymore. House rules.”
Keras quirked a brow. “Then how am I supposed to flirt with you for Miss Cadence’s entertainment?”
“Ugh. I’m going upstairs.” Derek pushed himself out of a chair.
Keras stood up, too. “Is that an invitation?”
“Ugh, no. Stay here. I insist.”
We laughed again. Keras sat back down, feigning dejection.
I spent much of the rest of the day telling everyone more about what had led up to this point.
We found a Valor board eventually. Sera beat all of us at it, although Keras seemed to be playing toward some kind of goal other than winning that none of the rest of us knew about.
Later, I thought to ask both Keras and Derek about the mark on my right hand. It was an attunement, not a strange one like Sera’s mark, but neither of them recognized it.
Derek offered me some books to read and pointed me to a room where I could study and sleep for the night. He had enough rooms for everyone else to stay there, too. Even Keras decided to stick around.
When I finally retired to my bedroom, I pulled out a book — but not the one that Derek had given me to read. It was Trials of Judgment, the book linked to the Voice of the Tower.
I had some questions for him.
Dear Voice of the Tower,
Lyras Orden was responsible for kidnapping Tenjin.
I’m going to presume you already knew about this from the beginning.
I’m also going to assume that you were somehow responsible for how I ended up with the keys necessary to open the prison cells for Vera, Echion, and Keras, thereby distracting Katashi from his pursuit of the real culprit.
I’ve stopped Orden. Katashi has her.
I’d like to give you a chance to explain what you’re really up to before I decide if I need to point people in your direction.
Corin
The note might have come across as a bit more vindictive than I had intended, but I felt pretty significantly betrayed.
There had been a body outside the jail cells where Vera and the others had been imprisoned. House Cornell would be mourning for the loss of a child. Had that death been the Voice’s work, too?
The reply came more quickly than I’d intended.
Ah, Corin,
I’m so glad you’re beginning to catch on. You’ll make an excellent Whisper of Wydd when we’re done with you.
Was I working with Orden? Oh, yes.
And against her as well.
Lyras never had sufficient foresight, you see. Quite intelligent, yes, but lacking in imagination. Once she’d started on her path, she was incapable of sufficiently adapting to changes in circumstances — changes like leaving Vera behind when her mission was interrupted.
There were far better ways of handling that situation. If she truly needed Vera’s knowledge, finding a Diviner and Vera to work with them for the creation of a memory crystal would have been vastly simpler.
Or, you know, she could have just gone to Caelford and found any of the dozens of other people who had worked on the project. I’m certain that Vera had some unique insights, but nothing a dozen other Analysts couldn’t have figured out given time.
But alas, Orden lacked the insight to deviate from her original course.
She was my teacher, just as she was yours.
And I surpassed her, just as you did.
And so, when she began to take risks with insufficient returns, I began to strike out on my own path.
You were an integral part of that, and I thank you for it. I will not denigrate you by calling you a tool or pawn — more of a junior partner.
One who I foresee being capable of great things — eventually.
In the meantime, I believe we’re both going to be quite busy in the aftermath of all this. I’m very excited to see what happens next.
And I’ll be especially interested in seeing your next move, little brother.
Survive, and you’ll soon see mine.
-Tristan Cadence
Appendix I — Attunements of Valia
An Excerpt from Understanding Attunements by Amir Hartigan
Each of the Shifting Spires marks the domain of one of the six Visages of Selys, the goddess above us all. Within these towers, she chooses to grant attunements to those who prove themselves worthy through a Judgment.
It is known that each tower has eight corresponding attunements. Our great kingdom of Valia is home to the Serpent Spire, wherein the eight attunements of Tenjin can be found.
Diviner: Diviners focus on information gathering magic, such as detecting mana types, identifying magical objects, and finding people from a distance.
Mana Types: Mental (Primary), Enhancement (Secondary)
Guardian: Guardians are capable of focusing mana into specific parts of their bodies, imparting vastly enhanced physical combat capabilities. Also capable of discharging their mana through contact, enabling them to harm creatures impervious to conventional force.
Mana Types: Enhancement (Primary), Life (Secondary)
Elementalist: Elementalists conjure fire, air, and lightning to strike their foes from afar. Often considered the most potent offensive spellcasting attunement, though lacking in versatility.
Mana Types: Fire (Primary), Air (Secondary)
Enchanter: Enchanters are capable of imbuing objects with mana, either from themselves or by transferring it from other items. This allows them to create magical items.
Mana Types: Transference (Primary), Mental (Secondary)
Mender: Menders are capable of applying their mana toward regenerating tissue and accelerating recovery. They are, however, also capable of reversing this process — making Menders into terrifying short-ranged combatants.
Mana Types: Life (Primary), Earth (Secondary)
Shadow: Shadows are capable of concealing themselves from the senses and diminishing the senses of others. For this reason, they are often used as spies and assassins.
Mana Types: Umbral (Primary), Enhancement (Secondary)
Shaper: Shapers can conjure objects from solid mana and restructure existing mana fields, making them among the most flexible of all attuned.
Mana Types: Earth (Primary), Enhancement (Secondary)
Summoner: Summoners form pacts with monsterous entities and learn to call upon their power. Powerful Summoners are capable of conjuring “figments”— mana constructed duplicates of creatures with which they have formed a pact.
Mana Types: Air (Primary), Transference (Secondary)
Appendix II — Attunement Levels
One of the many lectures of Lars Mantrake, retired climber, to a customer
As a climber, people often ask me ‘bout the strongest folks I’ve run into long the years. Most are surprised to hear I don’t got the slightest — I ain’t no Diviner or ‘Chanter. Can’t see no auras. And even if I could?
Most of the scariest bastards know how to hide ‘em.
I can tell you this, though — everyone who gets to a certain point starts to pick up new tricks. Varies from attunement to attunement, but there’s a logic to it.
Sounds a little like this:
Quartz is where people get their start. Ain’t nothing special here — got a couple types of mana you can play with, depending on what attunement you’ve got. Ain’t got no business climbing the tower if you’re a Quartz.
Carnelian is when I might start to take you a bit serious. When you’re a Carnelian, you start to develop a shroud. That’s a nice way to say that you’re starting to leak mana — and that’s why them Diviners and such can see it. Shroud’s your best friend — saved me more times than I can count. Works like a shield that’s always there, so long as you’ve got mana in you.
Guardians can do all sorts of crazy stuff with shrouds — it’s their specialty. They start building them even sooner than the rest of us, all the way back at Quartz.
Sunstone. Most climbers end up here. It’s when you’ve got a solid, reliable shroud to keep you safe. Sunstones learn all sorts of tricks for controlling their shroud — the most common be to turn the thing off. Or, at least suppress it so much that Diviners and such can’t see much of it.
Citrines are dangerous folk. Not many of them out there, and they’re almost all veterans with a lot of tricks up their sleeves. More importantly? When people hit Citrine, their attunement changes somehow. More than just getting an extra line and a brighter glow. Citrines start getting another type of mana — almost like they’ve got a whole new attunement. And that added flexibility makes them killer in a fight.
Emeralds are so rare that I can’t tell you what they’re capable of. Stories are all over the place, but the most common says that they can shape raw mana in the air. Not talking about reshaping spells that are already flying about like a Shaper can — they say Emeralds can weave magic out of nothing but ambient power.
Sounds like a bunch of nonsense if you ask me.
Sapphires? Hah! Good luck finding one of those, kid. You’re more likely to find a spell that turns lead into gold.
Appendix III — Mark Locations
An excerpt from a lecture on general magic theory by Professor Meltlake
Students these days have no appreciation for the little things.
And one of these little things, with far greater significance than they understand?
The place in which they were first marked by the goddess.
We understand little about why the goddess chooses to mark an individual in a certain location — even less than we understand her reasoning about which attunement to pick for one of the Judged.
We do, however, know how the location affects the abilities of the attuned who bears the mark.
The principal effect of the location is that it determines the primary method the attuned uses to direct spells. While all attuned can direct spells through multiple methods, spells that are directed using the attunement itself as a medium will be more potent.
Hand-Marked Attuned generally direct their spells through a gesture with the marked hand.
The classic example is an Elementalist hurling a blast of fire through their attuned hand — this would be stronger than doing the exact same spell through their other hand, since the attunement itself provides extra power when the caster channels mana directly through it.
Leg-Marked Attuned trigger spells by channeling their mana directly through touching a target. While kicking a target might be the most applicable method, a leg-marked attuned can also channel mana through their attunement into another part of the body and deliver it through a touch. This method is matched with hand-marked gestures for speed, and has the advantage of accuracy — spells delivered directly into a target are almost never wasted.
Since this method can only be used in melee range, however, it is often practiced in conjunction with other types of casting — unless the attunement itself favors close combat. This method is often favored by Guardians, even if their Attunement mark is elsewhere on their bodies.
Lung-Marked Attuned typically target and cast their spells through verbal incantations. By speaking, the caster channels mana through their lungs into the air around them, then releases the mana upon the conclusion of the incantation. This method is more time consuming than most spell casting methods, but the voice allows mana to be dispersed across a broad area, making this method superior for affecting multiple targets at once. For this reason, lung-marked are popular for warfare, where they can wreak havoc across a battlefield.
Heart-Marked Attuned channel mana through their entire body into their heart and then out both hands simultaneously. This method is the most dangerous and difficult to control, but it also produces the strongest single-target spells.
Mind-Marked Attuned are capable of casting spells inside their own bodies without any form of motion or verbal incantation. This skill makes mind-marked Menders incredibly resilient, since they’re capable of healing their wounds simply by shifting their mana to the injured location. Other mind-marked attuned often focus on casting spells that enhance their senses or physical attributes.
The location of an attunement is also quite important in that the attunement increases the rate of mana regeneration for that part of the body. Depending on the location of the mark, this will give the attuned more access to a particular type of mana.
This is often key in developing the user’s strength as a mage, since their most commonly used mana type will generally also be their strongest.
Appendix IV — Characters and Terms
From Corin’s class notes
House Cadence:
Magnus Cadence — Head of House Cadence, father of Tristan and Corin Cadence
Laura Lyran — Head of House Lyran, mother of Tristan and Corin Cadence
Tristan Cadence — Elder son of Magnus Cadence and Laura Lyran. Disappeared into the Serpent Spire during his Judgment. Presumed deceased.
Corin Cadence — Younger son of Magnus Cadence and Laura Lyran. Presumptive heir to both houses after Tristan’s disappearance.
Sera Cadence — Previously known as Sera Shard, Sera Cadence was legitimized by Magnus Cadence after passing her attunement exam. She is presumed to be a bastard child of Magnus Cadence. After being legitimized, she is now a potential heir to the house. She is the same age as Corin.
University Staff:
Chancellor Wallace — In charge of all university activities.
Lieutenant Commander Jack Bennet — Vice Chancellor, former military commander.
Professors:
Professor Edlyn — Assisted with new student orientation. Teaches Mana Manipulation class.
Professor Ceridan — In charge of Tiger Division. Teaches Elementalists.
Professor Lyras Orden — In charge of Serpent Division. Has a mysterious connection with The Voice of the Tower.
Professor Vellum — Teaches classes on permanent enchantments.
Professor Conway — Teaches Attunements class.
Lord Jonathan Teft — In charge of Hydra Division. Teaches dueling.
Professor Meltlake — General Magic Theory class. Legendary Elementalist.
Professor Vanway — Teacher for an unknown class. Not one of Corin’s professors.
Students:
Patrick Wayland — Former friend from Corin’s childhood. Elementalist.
Jin Dalen — Mysterious student in Corin’s dorm.
Marissa Callahan — One of Corin’s classmates. Usually called “Mara” by her friends. Guardian.
Roland Royce — One of Sera’s friends, former friend of Tristan’s.
Cecily Lambert — Student Corin is deliberately avoiding for unknown reasons.
Curtis Maddock — Dorm chief for Corin’s dorm.
Lisa Stone — Former classmate from Corin’s childhood.
Other People:
Lars Mantrake — Shopkeeper for the Climber’s Court, a magic item shop. Former climber.
Keras Selyrian — Mysterious swordsman that Corin first encounters during his Judgment.
Echion — Child with an unusual mark across his forehead. Corin first meets Echion during his Judgment.
Vera Corrington — Tower explorer that Corin first encounters during his Judgment.
Aloras Corrington — Automotive engineer. Vera’s brother.
Derek Hartigan — Heir to House Hartigan, an ancient noble house. Extremely powerful attuned.
Tavare — Derek’s summoned blade elemental.
Delsys — Derek’s summoned flame/wind elemental.
Elora Theas — Heir to House Theas, an ancient noble house. Extremely powerful attuned.
Vanniv — A summoned karvensi.
Visages:
Katashi — Visage of Valor, patron Visage of Dalenos, where he is a central figure in their government.
Melkyr — Visage of Resilience, patron Visage of Edria.
Ferras — Visage of Creation, patron Visage of Caelford.
Tenjin — Visage of Inspiration, patron Visage of Valia.
Kerivas — Visage of Law, second patron Visage of Edria.
Wydd — Visage of Forbidden Knowledge. Location unknown. Often depicted as a trickster or shapeshifter.
God Beasts:
Genbu, the God Tortoise — God Beast of Dalenos.
Seiryu, the God Serpent — God Beast of Valia.
Orochi, the God Hydra - God Beast of Edria.
Byakko, the God Tiger - God Beast of Caelford.
Suzaku, the God Phoenix — God Beast of East Edria.
Arachne, the God Spider — God Beast of (????)
God Beast Children:
Mizuchi — Deadly serpent, called “Hero’s End”. Child of Seiryu.
Major Nations:
Valia — Nation on the eastern coast of the continent of Kaldwyn. Home to the Serpent Spire and the Lorian Heights Academy.
Edria — Imperialistic southern nation. Conquered Kelridge during the Six Years War and nearly conquered Valia as well.
Caelford — Technologically advanced nation on the western coast of the continent. Allied with Valia.
Dalenos — Theocracy; covers most of the northern side of the continent.
Kelridge — A territory that was a part of Dalenos prior to the Six Years War. Conquered by Edria and now known as East Edria.
Days of the Week:
Tashday
Kyrsday
Fersday
Tensday
Vasday
Wyddsay
Acknowledgements
Corin Cadence owes his existence to the “Cobalt Nightmares” role-playing game campaign by Bernard Hansel, Justin Green, Danielle Collins, and numerous other game masters and staff. While the Corin in this novel differs significantly from the character in that game world, playing “Corwin Page” is what gave me the first hints of inspiration for this book.
Similarly, Sera Shard/Sera Cadence was inspired by her analogue in Cobalt Nightmares, played by Jess Richards.
As always, my beta readers were essential in improving the quality of this manuscript. They included Sean Anderson, Chris Avellone, Danielle Collins, Gereon Hinz, Josh Kutterer, Jess Richards, Christine L. Rowe, Jay Taylor, Will Wight, and Jennifer Williamson.
Thank you to Tim Marquitz for the some amazing editing assistance with the book. I truly appreciate your help and advice.
Daniel Kamarudin has been my cover artist since my first book — and he’s only gotten better over time. I was thrilled to work with him again on this project. Thanks for the help, Daniel.
Much of my inspiration for this work came from web serials such as Mother of Learning by nobody103, Worm by Wildbow, and Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality by Eliezer Yudkowsky.
Another layer of my inspiration came from JRPGs such as Final Fantasy, Tower of Druaga, Azure Dreams, Lufia 2: Rise of the Sinistrals, Ys, the SaGa series, Seiken Densetsu, and Bravely Default. In specific, the massive towers owe much of their existence to the earlier JRPGs on the list, and the idea of building a magic system around character classes was largely inspired by Bravely Default. While many earlier JRPGs had “job class” systems, Bravely Default worked character classes into their story — and that’s something I wanted to expand on further.
The title of this book is a reference to Arthur C. Clarke’s Third Law: “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” I deliberately inverted this as an homage, as well as to represent the theme of exploring magical research within the story.
Finally, thanks to the community over on Reddit’s /r/fantasy, especially asuraemulator, Green0Photon, Jadeyard, and the other users that took the time to give me feedback on my earlier works.
If you enjoyed the RPG-like elements of this novel, you might also be interested in checking out the swiftly-growing LitRPG genre of books. Some of the early supporters for this novel came from the LitRPG community on Facebook, which can be found at facebook.