When Wizards Follow Fools

By Andrew Rowe

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this book are fictional.

Copyright © 2022 Andrew Rowe

All rights reserved.

Map of Kaldwyn by Karl Vesterberg (http://www.traditionalmaps.com/)

ISBN: n/a for Kindle Edition

Version Number: 0.9132024

Dedication

For Justin Green. Thanks for many years of role-playing, game running, Discord lore drops, and theories on antithetical dominion convergence.

Map of Kaldwyn

The map above shows the continent of Kaldwyn, where this novel takes place. It is divided into four major nations — Valia, Edria, Caelford, and Dalenos. Each major nation has one or more of the Soaring Spires; these are also shown on the map.

This book begins in Valia, on the eastern side of the continent.

You can find a larger version of the map on Andrew’s blog here.

Author’s Note on Reading Order

This book includes some characters and story elements that are first introduced in one of my other series, Weapons and Wielders.

The first three books of Weapons and Wielders are a story that Keras tells to Corin and the other characters while on the train rides to and from Caelford, and thus Corin has information that he learns from those stories that he utilizes in this one. For example, he has some knowledge of things like Edrian nobility and certain wielders of the Six Sacred Swords due to their inclusion in Keras’ story. There is also a major character introduced in this book that has a connection to the Six Sacred Swords, which you’ll have a bit more context about if you’ve read those books.

Reading the Weapons and Wielders is not in any way necessary to understand this story, but it may lend some additional context for the identities and actions of some specific characters.

If you want that additional context, the first book of that series is Six Sacred Swords.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the book!

-Andrew Rowe

Style Notes

Some characters within the story communicate telepathically. I use square brackets to indicate general telepathy. For example, [This would be what their telepathy looks like.] One specific character has another form of telepathy, which is indicated through the use of curly braces facing outward. }This is what that looks like.{

I use the singular “they/them” for agender and non-binary characters, as well as characters that have not had their gender determined by the narrator yet. For example, “I didn’t know who wrote the note, but they had a peculiar style of writing”.

Finally, I use spaces before and after em dashes (AP style). This is purely because I find this style easier to read.

Recap – Arcane Ascension 1-4

Transcribed from the Verbal Report of a New Orchestra Performer

Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you want more information on the Cadence scion, given his recent escapades. Knowledge is a currency of sorts, isn’t it? And you’re known for your love of any kind of coin.

Of course, I’m sure you know most of this already. You likely orchestrated a good bit of it — yes, organizational pun intended — yourself, especially the end of your dear little brother. Am I going to get in trouble for saying things like that?

My, whatever will you do with me?

No, I’m not deflecting. I’ll tell you all about Corin Cadence, if that’s what you really want to know. Much of this will have to be hearsay and speculation, you understand. I haven’t known him all that long myself, really, and he’s so absurdly introverted that I have to wonder if he’ll eventually end up as one of those crazed hermits. Maybe build himself a tower in the Unclaimed Lands, that sort of thing.

But I digress. I do that often, you’ll find, but don’t worry — it adds flavor.

You probably don’t care about his own brother disappearing when he was twelve, though Tristan would have been something fearsome if he’d managed to make it out of his Judgment. A shame about — ah, yes, of course you know he’s alive. No, no, I would have mentioned that eventually. Probably.

Anyway, his brother disappeared into the Serpent Spire when he was twelve, his family split, and his father beat the stuffing out of him for years and called it training. Shame about the diminishing quality of parenting in Valia these days. A few years from now and our families will look almost as dysfunctional as your family does, my lady.

Carrying on. So, Tristan Cadence, scion of House Cadence, vanishes, and Corin makes it his life’s goal to track his brother down and either find him (a hilariously naïve goal that somehow ended up actually working) or bring him back to life (a considerably more reasonable goal regardless of its near-equal level of impossibility).

To that end, Corin undertook a Judgment upon his own seventeenth birthday, and things pretty much went right off the rails from there. (No, I’m not just making train metaphors because of all of your trains that I’ve robbed. That’s just a bonus.)

Now, there’s something to be said for walking into a Judgment with the expectation of doing something incredible and unprecedented, but precious few of us actually pull it off. In my case, I was perfectly pleased just to survive my own Judgment, given how young I was when I took it, although admittedly getting a contract-based attunement was a significant bonus. Most of my own extraordinarily absurd accomplishments came a bit later, but not Corin — he decided to throw out the rules right from the start.

Some of that is Tristan’s fault, of course.

You see, Corin found a magic book inside the Serpent Spire during his Judgment. And that magic book allowed Tristan to covertly send Corin messages, which were, I have to say, hilariously lacking in actual utility. It’s almost like he didn’t want his dear brother to survive — but that couldn’t be right, could it?

Too soon?

After that, Corin stumbled upon a magic jail. Inside said magic jail were a few interesting people. One was a mostly boring Analyst from Farren Labs. She’s not important, don’t worry about her. Her charge, however, was quite important — a boy being tested for a new type of artificial attunement. One so dangerous even the visages seemingly took notice.

Now, that’s interesting, isn’t it? Sending someone like that into a foreign spire…you’d have to expect that to come across poorly.

Was Ferras trying to start a war, do you think? Surely she must have known that such attunements were being made, as eccentric as she might be. So, why allow this to happen? Was she the one playing the tune, here?

Or was it you, m’lady?

Ah, very well, question withdrawn. Moving on then.

The next resident of the cell block was, of course, our very good friend Keras Selyrian. You know him, I know him — virtually everyone at least knows of him at this point. Heretic, deceiver, former wielder of Dawnbringer with a frankly ludicrous number of other titles still held and others long abandoned. A swordsman of such repute that your dearly departed brother once fled at his mere appearance on a battlefield — and, I much suspect, contrived to avoid encountering me again until Keras was conveniently off gallivanting on one of his world-saving errands.

But I digress again. There was a legendary swordsman in the jail, and Corin had no idea who he was. Hilarious, really.

So, Corin broke them all out.

Naturally, this garnered the attention of the resident visage — who was, unfortunately, not the local visage. You see, the visage responsible for the Serpent Spire — Tenjin, Visage of Inspiration — was missing. Instead, Katashi, the Visage of Justice and Judgment and all sorts of j-sounds, showed up instead. He demanded that Corin and the others hand over the boy prisoner, which I think demonstrated a remarkable level of restraint, given that Katashi could have obviously just, you know, teleported an unconscious child anywhere he wanted.

Without going into excessive detail, I can say that in a very obviously staged encounter, Keras stayed behind to hold Katashi at bay or something, which makes absolutely no sense to anyone who has any idea what visages are capable of. No, I’m not doubting that our swashbuckling hero might be able to match a visage in a fight on his good days — but after three weeks in a jail cell, he was decidedly not having one of those good days. And perhaps more importantly, Katashi didn’t have to beat Keras to achieve his goals, if preventing the escape of the other prisoners was among them.

Right, fine, I’ll stop rambling on that. I’m sure you have similar suspicions, and you can piece together the rest on your own if you feel like it.

So, Corin escapes the room with the child and the Analyst. Predictably, he’s betrayed by the Analyst, who splits off to leave the spire. Corin gets a magic sword — yes, I’m underselling that a bit, but you already know what Selys-Lyann is — and meets the Voice of the Tower (obviously his brother in a funny robe, or a projection thereof) and gets his attunement, then leaves the spire.

At this point, things are a little interesting, because he doesn’t lose his memories like most people do after a Judgment. Also, he managed to steal some of the water from the attunement fountain.

Yes, I thought you’d approve of that. An enterprising move, to be certain. You’d like him. No, wait, forget I said that. You’d be completely apathetic about him. He’s absolutely boring and you should pay no further attention to him.

…Fine, I’ll continue.

So, Corin earns an Enchanter attunement. This, of course, angers his military-heritage-focused father, who threatens to disown him and throw the family to Sera Cadence. Sera, you see, was a descendant of a family retainer — supposedly — who Corin was raised to believe would be his own retainer someday. When Sera came home with a better attunement than Corin’s, at least from a traditionalist Valian perspective, Corin’s father decided to claim Sera was a member of the family — but not explicitly his daughter.

She obviously was, in fact, his daughter. And given that she was supposedly born only a few days after Corin…well, he was either very busy with the maids at the same time he was with his wife, or perhaps, she wasn’t, you know, actually born a few days later than he was at all. A few minutes, perhaps? You see my meaning, of course, and you’re aware of the Valian cultural stigmas relating to such children. A deception, even one that was sold to the children, makes some sense.

No, I haven’t confirmed it. Juicy as that knowledge would be in high society, I actually like the Cadences, and I didn’t want to ruin their lives by prying into it over-deeply. I’d ask you to do the same, of course, but we both know that would only encourage you.

So, Corin and Sera are shipped off to Lorian Heights, the Valian academy for freshly-attuned, and begin their education. Corin talks to a teacher named Professor Orden about his dealings in the spire, earns a mentor in the eccentric Professor Vellum, and gets hazed a bit by the dueling teacher, Professor Teft. He also is fortunate enough to have a class with then-Professor Meltlake.

Various things happen throughout the year, but the most important for your purposes is the acquisition of his staunch allies. Patrick Wayland, an old friend who became Corin’s retainer in an ill-advised attempt to court his sister. Marissa Callahan, a prodigy of punching, who is, at present, probably regretting that very specific martial focus. Jin Dalen, a scion of the East Edrian House Dalen who very specifically insists on not being a prince, but likely is descended in some way from the Unbroken Queen’s household. And then there are the boring ones like Roland and Cecily that no one really cares about.

Anyway, Corin makes friends, even if he doesn’t realize it, and then gets involved in trouble again when monsters begin attacking the school. Corin discovers Katashi has ordered the attack and, in a bout of foolish valor, goes with a group to talk to the visage. Somehow, likely tied to the strangeness in Katashi’s earlier behavior, Corin not only survives this encounter but is charged with a quest: to find the Analyst and bring her to the spire.

So, he does that, nearly dying in the process. He also obtains the Jaden Box around thenish, which is a magical item that stores objects and can, when fully charged, summon people from other locations. Yes, I know I’m oversimplifying that, because you already know what the Jaden Box is.

Katashi is impressed that Corin did the thing he wanted and gives him an Arbiter attunement, which implies that Katashi had an angle on Corin from the start. He also hands off his sword to Corin’s injured sister, which is even more suspicious, but I think I have a pretty good handle on his reason for that — which is clearer when you know that the next thing Katashi did was send them to our dear Keras Selyrian for protection.

Keras trains Corin and Marissa over the next several months, while Sera recovers from injuries sustained in the spire. Oh, and Keras also makes Patrick a delightful copy of one of the many legendary swords in his former collection.

Corin learns more about enchanting, as well as his new Arbiter attunement. Toward the end of the year, he has his first encounter with a Child of the Tyrant in Gold — ah, do you prefer vae’kes? I’ll go with that, then. Vae’kes Saffron.

Saffron apparently had agents infiltrating the Theas household, which is unsurprising, given the long history of House Theas and their magical power. When Corin outed one of his agents, Saffron showed up, killed a few people, traumatized a few others, and eventually got scared off by Keras as mentioned earlier.

After that, Corin went to the Winter Ball and fawned a bit over Jin Dalen again. Oh, I forgot to mention this, but Jin tried to betray Corin during their little mission for Katashi, but I suppose it all ended up working out okay in the end.

Well, that part did. Mizuchi, the Hero’s End, one of the children of the God Serpent, showed up at the ball. That went about as well as you’d expect. She incapacitated most of the eight-thousand-or-so people in attendance — fairly impressive for one spell, you have to admit — gave a little speech, then killed some nobles for consorting with, you guessed it, the vae’kes.

You wouldn’t happen to know anything about what she was talking about, would you, m’lady? No, of course not.

Well, dear Corin decided to intervene in Mizuchi’s rampage, as did his friends. They nearly got themselves killed, and they probably did get one of their teachers killed — poor Professor Conway — but don’t tell them I said that. And they probably saved Teft, so I suppose they’re pretty much even on surviving teachers, right?

Mizuchi was, of course, far too much for a bunch of children, even with several powerful professors present as well. Meltlake put up a good fight, but…she’s not in her prime.

So, it would have gone very badly if the strange Professor Vellum hadn’t somehow used what sounds to me like Mythralian-style ritual magic to banish Mizuchi back to the Serpent Spire. Sure, it could have been an enchantment that drew from her Abjurer attunement, but…I think there was more going on with that.

I wouldn’t ask her, though. She’s dangerous. Trust me on that.

In the aftermath of that attack, Corin headed back into the Serpent Spire to try to reach his brother — and, to everyone’s surprise, actually succeeded. You see, his brother had been one of the people involved in capturing Tenjin, the original visage of the spire…and still seemingly held Tenjin captive.

Meeting with Tristan was, of course, a terrible idea for everyone involved. Mizuchi showed up and beat them badly, in spite of being vastly depowered from the last fight. Corin managed to teleport her away with a hastily brewed potion, but knowing she’d be back quickly, he had to flee the spire with his friends. His visit likely cost Tristan an eye, but at least he had personal confirmation that Tristan was alive, and I suppose that probably was worth it to him.

Less so to Tristan, I imagine.

Hm? No, I don’t think Tristan was the one pulling the strings on any of that, either. He claimed to have a backer, but no, I don’t know who that was. Wasn’t you, was it, m’lady?

Yes, go ahead, laugh.

Well, moving right along. Corin escaped the spire with his friends, then they went on vacation.

“Vacation” for them was going to Caelford, where Corin studied at Farren Labs, learned what a weird creep Anabelle Farren was, and most importantly, learned quite a bit about how attunements work. This led him to discovering that with his combination of attunements, he could potentially make changes to how attunements function, move them, or that sort of thing.

Fascinating stuff, although I imagine you already have plenty of ways to do that yourself.

After that, he entered the local spire — that’s the Tiger Spire — along with his friends and Professor Meltlake. The most important thing that came out of this climb was, I suspect, giving Meltlake some renewed self-respect and, perhaps, Corin earning a new void-enchanted sword in a duel.

From there, they met up with some weird spirit copy of one of Keras’ friends, then headed to meet with another old eccentric — Warren Constantine, former Arbiter and current full-time paranoid. Warren explained more about attunements and Arbiter stuff to Corin, including the very real risks of ever allowing his attunement level to exceed Citrine.

After that, Corin traveled to the Transcendence Gateway Shrine, where he earned a magical mark. Sera earned one as well, but with different magic, focusing on density rather than transcendence.

When the vacation concluded, they headed home, and Corin made a bunch of items along the way. Mostly batteries of various magic types, which he would use to help make more magical items later in the year.

After he got back to Valia, Corin was immediately challenged to a duel by his father, because he didn’t write home enough or something. Very silly, but Corin was goaded into accepting a duel for later in the year. Foolishness on the parts of everyone involved, really.

Shortly later, Corin learned that Professor Meltlake was now the university chancellor. He also engaged in a Survival Match, where he fought and stalemated Satsuki, a young serpent from the God Serpent’s line.

He spent much of the semester on various enchanting projects, but none so important as working on learning how to modify attunements further. He was able to learn how to make entirely new attunement levels, as well as make other fundamental changes — but with more extreme risks based on how much he tried to change. For the moment, he primarily focused on adding a few minor features, like being able to turn on some higher-level functions independently. This let him use light mana before he normally could, for example.

Much of the year was soured by the presence of the Sons of Valia, a newly emerged Valian-supremacist movement. They weren’t unique in their ideology, of course — our culture is no stranger to racism, ethnic purists, and xenophobia in general — but their rapid influence of resources and strange method of cutting off attuned hands certainly got them some attention.

Corin’s interactions with them were minimal at first. As a noble himself, he wasn’t a target, but his commoner-turned-retainer, Patrick, was assaulted and saved only by Keras arriving on the scene to intervene. Corin braced for future confrontations, while helping to make sure that his friends had message-sending items and other ways to keep themselves safe if they were attacked again.

Sadly, Keras was unable to stay much beyond that point. Corin had finally managed to recharge the Jaden Box, which they used to summon Wrynn Jaden herself. After that, Keras and Jaden gave the kids some gifts, then left. Yes, I can personally confirm that Wrynn did, in fact, put the children under her protection before leaving. I imagine that complicates things for you.

No, I don’t know where Keras and Wrynn went, aside from that they supposedly were off to deal with the Sun Eater somehow. I imagine that dealing with a world-eating entity will take a while, even for them, so it’s unlikely they’ll be interfering with your plans again soon. Unless, of course, you wanted the world to be eaten.

Final exams were interesting — a simulation of the Six Years War that ended much more favorably, with Jin Dalen shooting the test version of the Edrian Emperor in the head several times. Hilarious. Wish I could have seen it.

Following the semester’s end, Corin defeated his father in the duel. I don’t know exactly how — I wasn’t one of the people there, and they were quite quiet about the details. Yes, yes, I have suspicions — I know he was working on void items and attunement modification — but I really wasn’t there.

After that, he completely ignored the social implications of fighting his father — as I’d grown to expect from Corin — and went to wake up the spirit inside Selys-Lyann. Who, as it turns out, is an amalgamation of spirits, including, yes, a fragment of your illustrious father himself. Hilarious, really. They had a fight, but Corin eventually convinced the spirit to make a contract with him.

Finally, they went on a raid to a Sons of Valia base and…well, Saffron was there. I’m sure you know the rest.

They killed Saffron, supposedly. I still have my doubts they achieved it on their own, even considering the terrible cost.

Corin himself nearly died, overusing his mana to the point where I suspect his mind was nearly broken. He probably won’t be Enchanting anything for a while. I’m shocked he could talk.

His sword’s spirit was banished, and I’m not sure what that even means. It’s seemingly inactive, at least.

Marissa Callahan, more commonly called Mara, lost a hand, and, I suspect, much of her pride as a fighter.

And Sera Cadence? Well, she lost her life — or something like it. I’m not sure if she actually died that day, or if her brother’s spells and Seiryu’s intervention meant she was technically alive when you arrived and stepped in. Perhaps you can clear that part up for me sometime.

And…well, you already know what else was lost that day, don’t you?

Hm? I suppose there were some omissions here and there, but that should cover the most important parts. You don’t really need to know about all of Sera’s summoned monsters, for instance, even if Vanniv is fantastic. If you truly wish for more detail, however, I am, of course, your servant.

Not now? Very good. Ah, as for your last question…

I don’t know where Corin is now, but I imagine that wherever he is, he has to be hurting very badly. And, knowing what is on the horizon, I can only imagine his life is about to get even worse.

Chapter I – Desperate Departure

Corin Cadence’s Perspective

I cautiously folded the letter in my hands, took a steady breath, then began my race against a declaration of war.

There was no room for doubt or panic to overwhelm me. If Warren Constantine’s letter spoke true, I needed to know more about what was going on…and I needed to let the others know what I’d been told.

I went to Sera first. She was still in a terrible condition. While she seemed to have stabilized to the extent that her life was no longer at risk, no form of treatment we’d given her was enough to stave off the chills that constantly wracked her body. I showed her the letter.

“This is earlier than I anticipated,” she whispered. “But I suppose it was inevitable. The costs will be terrible to behold. We must make haste.”

“I can’t disagree, but…to do what? What can we accomplish?”

Sera offered me a weak smile. “House Cadence was built on the foundation of ending a war. Let’s try to do it in fewer than six years this time.”

We found Patrick and Mara next. Patrick was sitting at the side of Mara’s bed. While Mara’s own condition was also stable, she’d rarely been out of bed since the disastrous battle with Saffron. The loss of her right hand had been more than just a physical injury to her — it had wounded her in a way that would take more than medicine to solve.

We showed them the letter as well.

“But…why?” Patrick asked. “We’ve been at peace with Edria for years. And if they were going to attack because of Tenjin’s disappearance, why wait this long?”

“Both excellent questions.”

I started at the sound of an unexpected voice, then spun toward the speaker.

“But ones built from a faulty assumption,” she continued.

Elora Theas did love her dramatic entrances and exits. I supposed that it was a benefit for anyone who had teleportation magic. Normally, people couldn’t teleport into Derek’s home — I’d made sure of that — but Elora had a key and enjoyed a bit of showmanship. I was grateful that, at least at the moment, the heiress to House Theas was one of our allies — as an Emerald-level Summoner, she had both the power and mobility to be devastating if she used that kind of surprise entrance to attack, rather than just to show off.

Sera seemed both unsurprised and more than willing to steal Elora’s grand reveal. “Edria,” she said, “isn’t all we need to be worried about.”

“Ah, I see someone has been paying attention.” Elora gave Sera a hint of a nod. “Pack quickly, kiddies. I’ll be back in ten minutes to take you to the train. It might be the last one leaving Valia for a while.”

***

I raced to shove supplies into my dimensional bag, debating only briefly about if leaving Valia during a time of crisis was the right move. There were probably both ethical and legal concerns, given that I probably had some kind of obligation to the military if we were about to go to war…but I wasn’t likely to make a massive difference on the battlefield on my own. True, I was powerful for my age, but I wasn’t my great grandfather. And I sincerely doubted that what was coming could be halted with a simple duel.

Like it or not, I had one critical reason that I was even being invited to an event like the Emerald Council — the Arbiter mark on my hand. That gave me a degree of leverage, and if my suspicions about the war were accurate, that leverage could be critical.

I stopped by Cecily’s room to make sure she knew what was happening.

“Elora told me,” Cecily explained, “but I can’t go. I’m not an Emerald, nor one of your household. My place is with my family.”

“I…it may not be safe here.”

She gave me a disbelieving look. “You’re about to ride off into a monster-filled wasteland to speak to some of the most powerful people in the world, Corin. I appreciate the concern, but I’m not the one you should be worried about.”

She had a point. Sera gathered Researcher, then we met in the kitchen area to wait for Elora’s return.

In the meantime, Cecily pulled out the mana watch I’d given her. “Let me check your mana levels before you run off. I’m curious how the Goddess’ Tear impacted Sera’s mana pool, and it’ll be good to get a baseline now, since it’ll be a while before you’re coming back.”

“Fair point.” I nodded, extending my right hand. Cecily took a quick measurement, then blinked. “Three hundred and sixty-six…Corin…you’re a Sunstone.”

I blinked. “Oh.” Honestly, basic attunement levels were a lot less relevant to me since I’d figured out how to manipulate them. Still, it was a milestone to hit the mana requirements for Sunstone legitimately. “Yay?”

Cecily chuckled. “As for your Enchanter mark…that’s at two hundred and sixty-nine. Very impressive as well. You’re ahead of me with both. I just barely broke two hundred.”

“Might not be much longer. I can’t use the Enchanter mark for a while. Still isn’t safe.”

“You be careful about that,” she said, as if I was the type to go off and do dangerous…oh, right. Yeah, that was fair.

She checked Sera next, blinking rapidly at the measurement. “Three fifty. Sera…you’re almost caught up to Corin! You’re only ten points from Sunstone.”

Sera just nodded quietly. “Fixing the scarring was a huge immediate boost. It gave me back all the power I’d lost when I drank the primer.”

She didn’t sound excited, but I understood why. She was still barely functional after her experience with Saffron, her body trembling even as we stood around waiting for the rest of the group to gather.

Patrick was next, with 302 mana. He was a little further from Sunstone-level, but not much. Maybe a month or two.

That just left Mara, who…still hadn’t gotten out of bed.

“I’ll get her.” Patrick ran back up the stairs just before Elora reappeared.

“Well?” Elora glanced around. “You seem to be missing your right hand, Cadence. Wasn’t it someone else who ran into that little problem?”

“Don’t.” I shook my head. “I’m not in the mood.”

“And I am not in the mood to wait. There are important things happening, ones that will not bow to the whim of a broken—”

“We’re coming!” Patrick yelled from upstairs. “Just one minute!”

Elora glared at me, folding her arms.

Ordinarily, I would have expected Sera to defuse the situation, but she was just staring absently toward the kitchen, as if looking at someone who wasn’t there.

With Sera…indisposed, I turned back to Elora. “Can you bring more people, like Sera’s summons?”

“Why in the world would I need to do that, when she can just summon them herself?”

I shook my head. “True summons, I mean. She has a couple—”

“Ah, yes, the spire runaway. No, bringing someone who isn’t even a Valian citizen adds too many additional security concerns.”

Sera seemed to snap back into focus. “Our destination…it might be the safest place for Emery right now.”

“Not my problem. You can true summon her when you get there, if that’s a concern.”

Sera nodded absently, unable or unwilling to argue.

“Bring her here so she isn’t alone, at least?” I suggested.

“Right. Can do. And…hm.” Sera frowned, turning to Elora. “I have a contract with Satsuki. That’s complicated, but having a serpent with us might be worth the complexities.”

“She’s too young to offer any political assistance. If she’s willing, you can bring her here to protect your stray until we reach the spire.”

“…Fine. Corin, I’ll need more mana.”

My Arbiter attunement, at least, was still functional. I fed Sera mana while she summoned Emery and Satsuki, then hastily explained the situation. The pair both agreed to remain at the house with Cecily, which helped me feel a little better about the situation.

After a bit more discussion, Elora agreed that Researcher was enough of an asset to bring her along and wouldn’t be a security risk. We’d also consider true summoning Satsuki to our location if we needed the muscle.

We waited a few more tense minutes before Patrick and Mara finally emerged from the stairwell. Mara was disheveled and cradled the remains of her right arm under her other shoulder, as if to hide what had happened. We all knew, but that hardly mattered to the shame in her mind. When she saw Emery, she froze briefly, then found the resolve to stand by the rest of us.

“Well, that looks like everyone. Anything missing? Good. We’re leaving.”

With a snap of Elora’s fingers, the world lurched, and we were elsewhere.

***

Chancellor Meltlake met us at the entrance to the train. Patrick rushed to hug her, which she accepted gladly, then turned to the rest of us.

The train station was strangely quiet, which felt like a bizarre contrast to our urgency. Not that we were the only ones at the station, of course, but there wasn’t the sort of rush that I might have expected with an emergency like a preamble to war.

This was, of course, because Valia as a whole hadn’t heard anything yet. For most people, that day was just business as usual. I had to wonder what the few ordinary folks at the train station were thinking when they saw various powerful attuned showing up at the train platform. But, being me, I didn’t actually bother to ask.

I had greater concerns at the moment either way. Chancellor Meltlake looked about as serious as I’d ever seen her. “Thank you for bringing them, Elora. I won’t keep them long.”

Elora sighed. “You wouldn’t have to delay us at all if you were coming with us.”

“You know why I can’t.”

Elora rolled her eyes, then waved a hand and walked onto the train.

I shot Chancellor Meltlake a questioning look. “She might know your reasoning, but I’m not so certain I do. If the Emerald Council is meeting, surely you have a place there?”

“I was invited, of course, but there would be a number of problems with my attendance. Valia is in an extremely vulnerable position. Tenjin’s absence was the beginning, but the battle with the Sons of Valia…” She grimaced. “The losses were great, and not merely on a personal level.”

Patrick reached out to grab Chancellor Meltlake’s hand and squeezed. “Derek is still out there. He’s alive.”

“I’m aware.” She drew in a breath. “I…should have listened to him. Been there for him. For all of you. But now, there is nothing to do but shelter what is left. I have a responsibility to my students — all of my students — and the nation as a whole. We simply cannot afford for all of our Emeralds to leave at once, and among those who remain, I am one of the most publicly known. My presence here may help forestall further attempts at breaking our morale and internal sabotage. And should an army reach our gates,” a determined look crossed her features, “I have been known to melt a landmark or two.”

I truly hoped it would not come to that.

Not just because of the awful loss of life that would come from any battle on that scale, but because I knew that even Meltlake could not stand against an invading army and succeed.

Not when every other nation had a visage on their side.

More pieces were coming together in my mind, but there would be time to assemble them more fully when I was speaking with the others on the train.

“I suspect you’re here to do more than just say goodbye to your apprentice, then,” Sera noted. “And we have limited time. You have an agenda for us to fill at the council?”

Chancellor Meltlake nodded. “Astute as always, Miss Cadence.” She reached into a bag at her side, retrieving two envelopes. “My invitation — and my response. The Emerald Council is, as the name implies, generally restricted to Emerald-level attuned. Each Emerald is allowed a single guest, typically a retainer or family member. Non-Emeralds with invitations such as Master Cadence are rare exceptions, but also likely to be limited to a single guest.” She handed the letter to Patrick. “With these, you will be designated as my proxy. This will allow you to attend and vote in my place. You will also be allowed a guest. This should allow the four of you to all be present.”

The chancellor didn’t bother to give Researcher a glance as she mentioned the “four of us”. Clearly, Meltlake was only counting the humans. That said, I wasn’t particularly worried about Researcher getting into the tower with us; given Warren Constantine and Len’s practice of sheltering summoned monsters, Researcher would have no difficulty getting inside, even if she was denied participation in the council itself.

“You mentioned voting,” I noted. “Do I have a vote?”

“Unlikely. You are a guest of the host, not an Emerald. Unless you’ve been hiding a considerable amount of power, waiting to unveil it at the council?”

She gave me a wry grin — and, on that rare occasion, I actually got her hint.

“I think I very well might be.”

I couldn’t make myself an actual Emerald — not without blasting my body with so much mana that I’d tear my star veins to tatters. I was, however, one of the best prepared people in the world to fake it.

“And what,” Sera asked, “will we be voting for?”

Meltlake’s smile vanished as she turned to Sera. “I don’t know, Miss Cadence. And that scares me more than I can say.”

I didn’t like the sound of that in the slightest.

I wasn’t much for politics, but I knew that if we were going to be walking into one of the most politically volatile situations in my lifetime, I would need leverage if I wanted to have any influence. Pretending to be an Emerald might get me a vote, if I was willing to take the risk of being discovered, but I needed more than that. And, seeing Meltlake in front of me, I knew there was something valuable I held that I hadn’t made use of — something that might be worth a favor or two. “Chancellor Meltlake…about my invention. The one you asked me not to distribute broadly or talk about. Given the circumstances…”

She turned back to me, taking a moment to consider. “That…yes, it has value, but much greater value in the long-term, or to someone who has a strong understanding of the concept behind it. This isn’t a time to be holding back. If you think you can buy Valia some support with your invention, you can share it. But be careful. Once someone has their hands on one, it can be reverse engineered, and it’ll lose significant value. You need to approach this strategically.”

“I understand. What about—”

The sound of the train’s horn broke the flow of our conversation. It would seem that even at the behest of the Chancellor of Lorian Heights, a train would not wait forever.

“We’re out of time. Be safe, children.”

Meltlake gave Patrick one final hug. We rushed onto the train.

I knew where it would take us, but nevertheless, I couldn’t help but feel as if I was stumbling head-first into the unknown.

***

I hadn’t expected to be on the cross-continental railway again so soon after our last trip. I wished I could have been excited about the prospect, but I could feel only trepidation building in my heart.

Once we were on the train, we were ushered toward a series of expensive cabins. Elora had apparently reserved multiple entire train cars, and she rapidly shuffled us toward the ones she’d selected for us.

Full-sized beds. Tapestries and paintings on the walls. A bottle of iced wine. Are those rose petals? Is this how wealthy people usually travel?

I didn’t have much time to process the opulence of the first-class rooms before Elora summoned us again, this time to a car that was mostly taken up by a conference room.

“Sit,” she instructed. “I have many preparations to make and others to talk to, so this will be brief.”

We took our seats. I tried to suppress my nervousness, but I couldn’t help but fidget in my chair. I had many questions, but I didn’t have a moment to ask them before Elora began to push documents at us.

“Sign the top papers. The booklets below those are your diplomatic passports. If we should be intercepted along our path, you may need to show them. Things are in an early enough stage that diplomatic passports are still likely to be honored, if we’re lucky. If anyone attempts to board the train in a hostile fashion with a force of significant enough power that we cannot repel them, I will evacuate the people that I can. If I cannot reach you, I have also provided a map of the Unclaimed Lands with several locations marked. We have allies in a Sytennian camp here, near the Light Temple.” She pointed at a spot on the map. “If we are far enough along, however, I would advise you to go to the expedition at Pending, then make your way from there to Constantine’s tower, which is here.”

“I assume you’ve been out here before,” Sera said. “Why not just teleport us via anchor points along the route? We could be there in hours instead of days, even if you have to rest.”

“That route has been anticipated. The closest teleportation anchor points to Valia were masked or destroyed earlier this morning. Scrying attempts at several more distant anchor points have been blocked, which suggests there may be ambushes set up. While there are some anchors within my range that have not been obviously blocked, in my estimation, that suggests an even higher likelihood of a planned ambush at those locations.”

“Do they really have the resources for several ambushes that could threaten an Emerald?” I asked.

“Unlikely, but the brief disorientation after long-range teleportation may be enough for them to summon reinforcements from another area if we show up at any of them, or at least time enough to convey a message. Beyond that, I strongly suspect that our aggressors have made alliances with factions that are active in the Unclaimed Lands, and those factions may have the resources to threaten us.”

“The Tails of Orochi, I presume?” Sera asked.

Elora raised an eyebrow. “You’re better informed than I might have expected, dear.”

“Just calculating. If they have an idea of who might be coming this route, my brother might be exactly the type of prize they’d be interested in.”

I blinked. “Me? Because of my mark?” I knew that an Arbiter mark was valuable, but I couldn’t quite process why the Tails of Orochi would want to have anything to do with it. Descendants of the God Hydra didn’t have any need for attunement manipulation…did they?

Sera shook her head. “In this case, it would not be the attunement they’d be interested in — at least, not predominantly. If you recall a certain swordsman’s stories, they have displayed an inordinate interest in magic swords of a particular lineage.”

“Oh.” I’d only learned about Selys-Lyann’s connections with Flowbreaker, one of the Six Sacred Swords, relatively recently. People with a specific interest in the sacred swords, like the Tails of Orochi, certainly could have that same amount of knowledge — or more.

I wonder if any of the other wielders will be at the Emerald Council?

I didn’t know much about the current state of the sacred swords. Keras had told us a great deal about them, but his story had taken place about nine years ago…or more like ten, maybe, now that we were in our second year at the academy. I wasn’t sure exactly what time of year his story had happened.

I hadn’t asked what had happened to Dawnbringer because he clearly didn’t want to talk about it. My suspicion, of course, was that the sword had been broken, or that Dawnbringer had manifested a humanoid body, only to be killed in some way that Keras blamed himself for. He’d suppressed much of his own power with some kind of Artinian-style marks, and his memories along with those abilities.

Had he killed Dawn and sealed his powers and memories out of regret?

Perhaps I should have asked that question directly, but he was gone now, and I didn’t know when I’d have a chance to ask him…or if he’d even be capable of answering. He’d mentioned in his discussion with Lute that there were things that he wasn’t allowed to talk about, and Lute’s family was a part of that in some way. Perhaps the “Father” that Lute spoke of was Dawnbringer’s father as well, and she was with him?

I hoped I could get some answers to that, but I didn’t know if anyone at the council would have any better information.

Sera waved in front of my face. “Venaya to Corin, we’re still talking.”

“Sorry!” I shook my head, refocusing. “What do you need?”

“Elora is heading back to her cabin to focus on long range communication and intelligence gathering. She’s already filed the necessary paperwork to make certain that we’re all considered diplomatic envoys. We won’t be considered deserters for avoiding any battles while we head to the council, but we may need to head straight back, depending on how things go. You need to get your paperwork signed, then we’ll discuss more.”

I got to work on the papers, but I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering.

If we failed at the Emerald Council, countless people would die. My entire nation could fall.

I knew that responsibility didn’t fall on me alone, of course. I wasn’t the only representative from Valia, or in general. But I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the mark that shined on my right hand.

Arbiter of Katashi.

It was a title that implied a great deal of power that I didn’t actually have.

I had no way to contact Katashi, nor any real influence with him. I’d been given the mark with barely any explanation of what it implied. And, the more I thought about it, the more that began to feel deliberate.

Was he simply rewarding me for my brief service?

That was almost a laughable prospect. No, there must have been a degree of calculation in his action, but only now, with war looming, had his motivations begun to appear clearer to me.

Tenjin’s disappearance. Katashi’s presence in the Serpent Spire and the subsequent closure of the gates. The weather shield falling. Mizuchi’s rampage on the city — and her assault at the Winter Ball. The internal conflicts against the Sons of Valia.

Each served to reduce Valia’s military power…and decrease trust in Valia’s government.

Saffron had spoken of using internal conflict to his own advantage, seeking to weaken the nation for the tyrant’s purposes — but what if he wasn’t the only one who had thought to use these events for his own gain?

What if he was simply another barrier in someone else’s way, one that we had inadvertently removed?

We went back to our private cabins, piling into the one assigned to Patrick and myself to talk. Then, I flipped open the final gift given to me by someone I desperately wished to see.

And my hand settled on the memory crystal labeled “visage”.

As I removed it from the case, I found a note underneath.

Dear Corin,

I’m impressed that you’ve made it this far, mastering the secret techniques I’ve taught you through all of the other crystals to reach the final lesson.

Just kidding. I’m sure you skipped ahead.

Don’t worry, I would have done the same thing.

I will warn you, though, that this one isn’t like the others. There are things in this crystal that will change your understanding of what has been going on within the Serpent Spire.

I don’t care much for warnings. I’ve never paid them much heed. Not a big believer in forbidden knowledge, either. But there are those that care very much for their illusions — and won’t take it kindly if their reality is shattered.

You can handle this. I know that, or I wouldn’t be sharing this with you. But there are two things you must remember.

First, not everyone will believe the truth, no matter how clearly you display it to them. A comfortable fiction is often more pleasing than reality, and evidence to the contrary can breed unfathomable anger. Should you choose to watch this, that is a burden you will need to bear.

Second, know that, no matter where I am, no matter how bad things get—

I’m proud of you.

You’ve more than earned my respect. Whatever you face, you’ll handle it.

And if you need an example of how to handle a supposedly invincible threat, keep watching these crystals.

Chances are, I’ve already beaten one.

-Keras Selyrian, Titles Truncated

I folded the letter in my hands, rubbed absently at my eyes, and then tucked it away where I’d found it.

Then, I turned to Mara. “I think there’s something we both need to see.”

We shifted our seats so that Mara and I were next to each other. The label for this this particular crystal indicated that it could be viewed by two people at the same time. Somehow, that felt more fitting than watching it one after another.

Keras must have planned for this, too.

I explained what we were doing and let the others look over the letter.

“You sure you want to see this?” Sera asked.

“You already know what we’re going to see, don’t you?” I asked her.

“…I don’t know for certain, but I have my suspicions.”

I nodded. I had my own, too. And I had questions that urgently needed answers. I was tired of reacting to things without enough information — and if I had the ability to grasp a bit more of the truth, I would take that option without the slightest hint of doubt. “I’m doing it. Mara?”

“Can’t say I’ve got anythin’ better to do.” There was a hint of her old excitement there, mingled with heartbreak. That was, in my estimation, still an improvement.

Sera glanced at Patrick. “C’mon. Let’s go get something to eat. These two might be busy for a while.”

I raised an eyebrow at that, but I assumed she knew what she was talking about. I turned to Mara. “Ready?” I stretched out the crystal between us and let her set her hand on top of it.

“You bet.” She gave me a nod. “It isn’t every day you get to watch a fight with a god.”

Chapter II – The Sharp Edge of Memory

My vision flickered as I spoke the single word to activate the memory crystal.

I’d watched some of Keras’ memory crystals with Mara already, but this one was different, even beyond what Keras had implied within his message.

I recognized the backdrop immediately. A massive chamber with royal carpeting draped across a colossal stairwell. Titanic pillars holding up a ceiling high above. One of those pillars had been crushed when Keras had been hurled into it with impossible force. Obviously, he’d simply dusted himself off, but the pillar had a harder time cleaning itself.

Six floating swords hovered in the air, weapons produced through Keras reshaping the daggers he’d held in his coat. They were still, now, but gleamed with silent power. And…they looked familiar, now that I had a bit more context. Each of the swords he formed had a different shape — one arming sword, one dao, one jian, a saber…

The Six Sacred Swords. He’s making each of those daggers into an approximation of one of them. Is that just a stylistic choice, or…does he still have more of their power than he’s been letting on?

From Keras’ perspective, I saw familiar figures. Echion was unconscious. Vera looked absolutely terrified.

The visage Katashi stood atop the stairway, his white wings fully extended, and the hilt of Ceris, the Song of Harmony, in his grasp. His expression was full of confidence and disdain as he gazed downward. At that moment, his eyes turned toward me.

Not Keras. Me.

It was the day of my Judgment, and I was currently in the process of fleeing the room.

I looked so much younger, then. So much weaker. My hair was askew, my dueling tunic torn, an antique dueling cane my only weapon if I’d turned toward a hopeless fight. No attunement mark on my forehead, nor on my hand.

Just a boy, one without the slightest comprehension of how far he was truly in over his head.

And then I was gone, successfully escaping through the door along with Vera and Echion. And I understood, then, why Keras had chosen to start the memory here — it grounded me in that moment. It helped me identify exactly when this vision took place. Everything beyond it would be new to me.

As the door slammed shut, Keras turned his gaze up toward Katashi. “So.” He stretched his arms, then shifted his neck from back to right with a crack. “We still doing this, or your demonstration over?”

Katashi gazed downward at Keras, his eyes narrowing. “You presume much, Selyrian.”

“Oh, constantly. But in this case, it’s pretty obvious that you let them leave.”

“What makes you say that?” the visage asked.

Keras must have closed his eyes, since my vision went black. “You’re going to make me spell it out? Fine, I’ll play.” I heard a sigh. “You’re a visage. You supposedly have every attunement. I don’t actually think your abilities work that way. You were probably born before the existence of attunements, but probably do have access to near-every dominion. Assuming you do, you had hundreds of routes to stop them. Thousands, maybe. Wave a hand and teleport them. Raise a wall to seal the doorway. Summon monsters. Create simulacra of yourself.”

“You would have interfered, would you not?” Katashi sounded amused, but when Keras’ eyes opened, there was no sign of levity on Katashi’s face.

“With some of those options, sure. But I was going easy, too, because I noticed that you weren’t really trying. You let the kid shoot down one of your attacks.”

“What makes you think that was deliberate?”

“Even if that dueling cane was Emerald-level, which I sincerely doubt, it wouldn’t have been able to negate a serious attack from a visage. And you had to make them go slowly enough for him to hit one, too. You were testing him.”

“Perhaps I was.” Katashi lowered his head in a hint of acknowledgement. “The scion of House Cadence remains within his Judgment, after all.”

My mind swam with the implications of that, but the vision didn’t slow itself to give me time to think. I’d considered the possibility that I was still being tested when I’d walked into that room, but in the aftermath, I hadn’t spent enough time considering the possibility that my escape had been deliberate. Manufactured.

…But if it was a part of the Judgment…had I chosen the right route? The route that Katashi approved of?

Was that why he’d chosen me to be his Arbiter? Because I’d been willing to…oppose him?

I would have frowned in thought if I could have.

Keras, however, made no such expression. Instead, he began to stretch his legs. “Sure, that’s probably a part of it. But you let the others escape, too. I’ve had a chance to spend a bit of time with Vera and Echion. If you’re letting them escape…what’s the plan?”

“Perhaps I will simply apprehend them again as soon as they walk out the door.”

Keras shook his head. “Maybe, but I don’t think so. You’re up to something. You made a show of trying to stop them — but fortunately for them, Keras Selyrian was there to allow them to escape. It’s a stretch, of course, but the kind of story that a starved and desperate person might believe. And if they think they’ve really escaped…maybe they’ll go straight to whoever sent them. Maybe you don’t know who that is. Or maybe you just want to give someone the impression that you tried to stop whatever is coming as a result of all this.”

Katashi rested his hands on the top of Ceris’ hilt, placing the weapon’s tip on the floor and leaning against it. That was generally terrible weapon discipline, but I supposed that it didn’t really matter with a near-indestructible artifact. He wasn’t exactly going to dull the tip. “A fascinating hypothesis. I’m pleased you’ve decided to abandon the façade of the clueless foreigner. Tell me, Keras Selyrian. What were you playing at?”

Keras hesitated for just a moment, then groaned. “It wasn’t completely an act. My memories aren’t entirely intact. And beyond that…you realize I’ve been in your prison for weeks, right? I can use stability sorcery to reduce my need for food and water, but in order to eliminate that requirement entirely, I’d have to place myself in stasis, and that’s too much of a risk. So…”

“You’re starving. Exhausted and near-delirious from sleep deprivation.” Katashi lifted a hand off his sword to wave it casually. “Yes, I’m aware. There’s a part of me that would have been pleased to face you at your strongest, but even without the cell, it’s far too late for that, isn’t it?”

Keras took a step forward. “I wouldn’t count me out just yet.”

“Ah, such arrogance, in spite of everything. You know that I was holding back while the children were here, but I don’t think you comprehend the scale of what you face.”

“Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to finding out.” Keras took a step forward, then lifted his sword lazily to rest it against his shoulder. “I suppose I should check and see if you’re willing to talk first, though.”

“I think not.” Katashi tossed Ceris into the air, the sword hovering in place as Katashi folded his arms. “You may lack your former strength, but you still have an uncanny habit of disrupting events beyond your understanding. Your cell or your grave. You choose.”

“Neither of those sounds very comfortable, so I’ll go with option three. I’ll offer you a chance to surrender.”

“Don’t be absurd.” Katashi’s entire body began to glow. “Any last words?”

“Maybe eventually.” Keras lifted his free hand and made a “come at me” gesture. “But not today.”

“Very well.” Katashi bowed his head.

Then the room exploded.

My eyes couldn’t quite process what happened — something spread across the chamber so quickly that I couldn’t follow it.

Then, Keras was stumbling back, rapidly bashing aside a flurry of strikes from Katashi. Keras’ clothing was ablaze, along with the formerly majestic tapestries on the walls and carpeting on the floors. Smoke choked the air.

Keras’ back slammed into a newly manifested wall of green stone, then he ducked, barely avoiding a swing from Ceris that jammed into it where his head had been. He countered with a swing at Katashi’s midsection, his own blade too fast for me to follow and trailing a silvery blur. Katashi simply vanished, then reappeared at Keras’ left side.

A crystal blade traced a long cut along Keras’ left arm as he turned, then, hissing in pain, and swung his own sword again. As before, Keras met only empty air.

Keras spun, sending a cutting wave of silvery energy in Katashi’s direction as the visage reappeared. The blade seemed to slice straight through Katashi — but the visage simply warbled when the cut passed through him, then vanished.

Illusion, I realized, seemingly at the same moment Keras did. The swordsman barely jumped to the side as Ceris passed through the crystal wall that was behind him, piercing the space where he’d been standing. When he turned toward the real Katashi, however, he was too slow to block the blast of pure golden light that came from Katashi’s other hand.

The light slammed into Keras’ chest, burning a hole through the center of his shirt and leaving his skin blistered beneath.

Then, with a groan, Keras began to walk forward through the beam.

Katashi’s eyes betrayed a moment of surprise, but before Keras could close the distance to swing, he simply vanished again.

Keras exhaled a deep breath, then swung again, simultaneously pressing the backs of his boots together.

When Keras’ next cut rippled through the air, Katashi tsked, then vanished again, reappearing in the air high above.

“An anti-teleportation technique? You thought that would work? Do you have any concept of how little power you have compared to mine?” Katashi brought his hand down.

The air rippled.

Keras’ legs trembled.

I understood what was happening — it was the same technique that Katashi had once used to slam Vera, Echion, and myself into the floor. The same technique that Keras had once brushed off—

But from the way the world blurred and every single support pillar began to splinter and crack, the intensity must have been a hundred times greater.

If I had stood in that room, I would have been ground to dust.

A silvery aura flared around Keras, only for a moment, then his legs steadied. Barely.

Keras’ hand trembled on the grip of his sword — then he launched himself into the air, taking his sword in both hands and bringing it up. A silver sheen flared across the entire blade, then he swept it down, producing a cleaving cut nearly the height of the entire room. For a moment, it looked as if the massive cut moved so quickly it would rip Katashi asunder, but before it landed, Katashi simply vanished again.

“Futility.” With the motion of a single finger, he tore Keras from the skies, hurling him to the floor below. Keras landed with a crash, Katashi settling on the floor nearby a moment later. “Your attacks are far too slow to—”

I heard a whistling sound as dozens of gleaming silver crescents flashed across the room toward Katashi. And, though I couldn’t feel Keras’ lips move, the subtle shifting of his eyes told me that a bloodstained grin had crossed his lips.

That’s…the Pale Crescent’s technique! Keras wasn’t just missing those swings earlier…he was leaving crescent echoes around the room!

Katashi swung around, a startled expression on his face as he swung Ceris to meet the first of the gleaming cuts. The artifact blade flashed as it activated the spell-stealing function it was famous for—

And failed.

The silvery cut was deflected by the swing, crashing into the floor, but the attack had not been absorbed. And as Katashi fell back, his weapon flashing in a rapidly increasing tempo of parries, each of the blades rose again and again, rippling unceasingly in Katashi’s direction.

As Katashi backpedaled, Keras stomped a foot, causing the ground beneath Katashi to ripple and liquify.

Katashi stood upon the liquified ground as if nothing had happened. His expression dipped into a sneer. “So, you’ve retained a fraction of the Pale Crescent’s power, and have a few childish tricks.” Katashi growled. “It is irrelevant. Enough!”

The silvery cuts froze in mid-air.

Keras surged forward with greater speed, his aura flaring silver, his sword flashing upward—

But he never got close. With a flick of Katashi’s finger, the air rippled; Keras was flying across the room and crashing into one of the far walls.

By the time Keras began to push himself off the stone, Katashi was above him, Ceris plunging down.

Keras rolled on the floor, hurling a blast of flame with his left hand.

Katashi caught the blast of fire with a glare, his eyes seeming to freeze it in mid-air, then sent it back in Keras’ direction. With a hiss, Keras sliced his own attack apart as he rose, leaving a silvery gleam that hovered in the air where his sword had passed.

As Keras tried to steady himself, Katashi casually gestured at a nearby pillar, which disassembled itself into dozens of circular segments then ripped across the room in Keras’ direction.

Keras didn’t bother trying to dodge. Instead, he stepped forward into the attacks, swinging so rapidly that the segments of stone were reduced to thousands of splinters. When the fragments fell, however, Katashi was gone.

Keras spun around in alarm, searching — then jumping backward as the ground beneath him split apart, with Katashi emerging from below, wreathed in a nimbus of blue fire.

When Keras swung again, Katashi stepped back easily, avoiding the cut and the silvery trail that followed. Then Katashi pressed two fingers against Ceris, causing the blue flames surrounding him to swirl and surge into the sword’s crystalline blade. Katashi brought his blade down in a blazing blur, even the air itself around his weapon seeming to blacken and burn.

Keras met the swing with one of his own. When the two blades met, the room was bathed in cerulean flames — then Keras, alone, was hurled backward to crash into the ground.

The swordsman coughed, wiping blood from his lips, his limbs trembling as he attempted to push himself to his feet.

Katashi appeared in the distance, standing right where he’d started. Keras’ left eye blinked rapidly in response to the blood trickling from his forehead; Katashi was half-blurred from Keras’ vision failing.

Katashi sighed. “That should about wrap things up, I believe.” He snapped a finger. The shattered floors began to mend. The splintered pillar’s pieces lifted from the ground, beginning to settle and merge where they’d once stood. The obliterated carpet began to reform across the floor. In moments, the room began to resemble the way it had begun, save for the one pillar that had been shattered when I had still been in the room — and the lingering gleams of silver in the air left behind where Keras’ sword had passed.

“…Not…done.” Keras coughed, leaning on his sword and beginning to push himself to his feet.

“Oh, I think you are. I—”

The six floating swords very nearly hit Katashi from behind.

He scowled, spun, and froze the weapons in mid-air. The swords trembled, seemingly resisting Katashi’s control.

Keras launched himself from the ground with a surge of speed, seeking to exploit Katashi’s distraction. His sword flashed at Katashi’s face, but froze in mid-air as Keras’ body was enveloped in a block of ice.

Keras trembled, his body straining. Flames spread across his skin, slowly beginning to melt the frost, but it was not quick enough.

“How pitiful.” Katashi regarded the floating weapons. “At your peak, perhaps you could have given me a hint of a challenge. But as you are now? I think not. You will not stop me with a shallow effort to mirror something you abandoned.”

Katashi snapped his fingers.

Six gleaming blades splintered in the air.

“You are no threat to me, Keras Selyrian, Wielder of Nothing. A shame. Alas, it seems the sun has set, and never will rise—”

If Katashi said another word, I never heard it. In the next moment, there was no sound, no sight…nothing except the sensation of the world itself being cut.

When my senses snapped back into focus, I could barely process what had just happened. There was a single massive line traced across the entirety of the chamber — one that seemed to stretch far beyond it, cleaving through an indeterminate portion of the spire. The support pillars were trembling where they’d been split, and it looked as if the room itself could collapse at any moment.

Perhaps that would have made a chance for one party or another to stop the battle, if they’d still been standing far apart — but in the instant following the cut, they were face-to-face. There was no lurch in my stomach that came with teleportation.

I couldn’t say for certain, but…it didn’t feel like Keras had taken a single step forward.

It was more like he’d simply cut the distance between them, until there was nothing left but the length of the blade that was pressed against the bottom of Katashi’s chin.

“Talk about her again. See what happens.”

Katashi’s expression flickered. Was that…panic? From a visage?

“You wouldn’t dare—”

Keras’ left fist slammed into Katashi’s face with an explosive crack, the impact hurling Katashi straight across the upper floor of the chamber and into a wall.

Keras stood in the perfectly smooth hemispherical crater that had been created by the punch, then casually hopped out of it to walk toward where Katashi was groaning and lifting himself from the floor.

“You’ve…made a mistake.” Katashi’s hand lashed out in Keras’ direction. The entire upper floor of the room warped in my vision, twisting and stretching. I recognized it as some kind of spatial manipulation, but of a style and scale I’d never seen. I had no idea how to counter it—

Keras walked straight through it, his silver aura flaring brighter and brighter with every passing moment. When he neared Katashi, Keras reached out.

Katashi vanished—

And Keras’ hand shot through the air where Katashi had been standing and pulled.

If my eyes could have widened, they would have—

Somehow, Keras had caught Katashi mid-teleport, grabbing him by the hair, and wrenched him back to where he’d been before.

Katashi’s eyes widened, uncomprehending, as Keras pulled him downward. For a moment, they were eye-to-eye, then Keras slammed his forehead into Katashi’s nose. There was a crack as Katashi’s head snapped back, then Keras shoved Katashi backward into the nearest wall.

Katashi howled, his own body flaring with light — then Keras’ sword flashed, jamming in the wall next to Katashi’s face.

“You missed,” Katashi sneered.

“Did I?” Keras leaned in closer. Slowly a weeping cut spread across Katashi’s cheek, scarlet trickling across his pale skin. “Give me a reason to try again.”

Katashi shuddered as Keras came closer. “…That won’t be necessary.”

“Oh?” Keras lips twisted into a smile. “And why is that?”

“It seems,” Katashi made a sour expression, “I may have underestimated you.”

“Do you surrender, Katashi? Will you throw down your sword and ask for mercy?”

“No.” Katashi straightened, his lips twitching. “And I have no reason to. In your anger, you’ve forgotten what you said when we first started this conversation.”

A blue crystal sword rested against Keras’ shoulder from behind. Keras didn’t turn.

“Simulacra. Illusions. Teleportation. I haven’t forgotten. You might not be the original Katashi — maybe that one behind me is. Maybe neither of you are, or maybe you have more than one. But I’m willing to bet that no matter where the original is, if I detonate all the mana in one of you, it’s going to ruin your day.”

There was a moment as Katashi stared back into Keras’ eyes. “…You’d risk destroying the entire spire if you do that. Perhaps all of Kaldwyn.”

Keras dragged his sword a hint closer to Katashi’s neck. “You try waiting patiently in a single room for two weeks. After a few days, you’ll be ready to destroy a continent, too.”

“…You’re bluffing. I know you, Keras Selyrian. But it doesn’t matter. You’ve proven that you’re more than capable for what I require.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Keras eyes narrowed.

“My brother’s absence will change this continent. There will be forces seeking to take advantage the moment that it becomes public — and I cannot be everywhere at once. Perhaps we could make a deal. You wish to speak to Selys. Tell me, Keras Selyrian. Do you think you could stall an invading army?”

Keras ripped his sword free from the wall, flipped it in his hands, and then sheathed it at his side with a manic laugh. “It wouldn’t be the first time. But you’d better hurry with whatever you’re planning. I can’t promise to leave the army in one piece.”

Chapter III – Processing With Help

The memory crystal’s vision went black, but that did not mark an ending. My eyes didn’t open. I felt a moment of panic before I heard a voice in the blackness.

“Don’t mind the dark, Corin. It’s the only way I could make this work.”

Keras was speaking, but I still couldn’t see him or anything at all.

What’s happening?

“If this is working right, you’re probably wondering what’s happening. It’s actually very simple — this is a more advanced memory crystal than the others, containing multiple distinct memories and set up to show them in a set sequence. You’re not seeing anything because I’m not seeing anything right now. It’s pitch black, and it’s likely something is going to try to eat me soon. The Void Gateway Shrine is like that. As awkward as this is for both of us, it’s the only way I could record a message securely.”

I heard him sigh.

“Enough preamble. There’s a lot to explain. You aren’t going to be able to share this with your friends directly, and I know that’s going to put a great burden on you. You can share the crystal if you think it’s wise, but…I’m going to warn you that I’m going to share some of that extra dangerous information with you. The kind that is likely to get you into trouble, just for knowing it. You can exit the memory now, if you want to, just by thinking the word ‘exit’ strongly…but you’re not going to do that, are you?”

He laughed.

“Of course not. That’s not who you are. Now, let me tell you a story…”

***

My eyes fluttered open. My breathing was heavy as I processed what I’d just seen.

Mara and I exchanged glances.

“He knew…” Mara whispered. “He saw…but…”

She pulled away, shuddering suddenly.

I reached out on instinct, then pulled away before touching her, my usual touch aversion taking hold with too much strength to resist. Instead, I shifted the crystal back into the box at my side, turning to Mara. “We can’t talk about this. What we just saw, it would ruin everything if…”

Mara’s shoulders slumped. “Thinkin’ I’m not sure I care about ruinin’ long-laid plans so much right now. He could have found a way, he could have…”

Seeing her expression of hurt, I didn’t know what to say, so I settled with a basic platitude. “I’m sorry.”

She scoffed. “Not your fault.”

“It was more of a sympathetic sorry than an apology.”

“Ah. Sure. S’pose this must have…been hard on you, too.”

I wasn’t really feeling what she was feeling, I didn’t think. She was still emotionally raw from the catastrophic battle with Saffron…and while we both felt abandoned when Keras left, it clearly had affected her differently. “I…yeah, but…I’m okay, I think. Do you need anything?”

“I…I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

We were silent for a time.

“We should show the others,” I finally said. “They’d want to see it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of keepin’ somethin’ this important from anyone.” The implication in her statement was obvious. “Not that I don’t understand the risks, all the things he was worryin’ ‘bout. This is just…ugh.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I simply stood up, patted the seat next to her, and went to find the others.

I shared the crystal with Sera and Patrick next. Sera was already aware of much of what the crystal contained, for reasons that will be clearer later. Patrick…

Patrick did not take it well.

Sera had to calm him when his eyes opened, immediately putting a hand on his shoulder. “That sure was some fight, right?”

“…Fight. Yeah, of…of course. But the end—”

“I’m sure he couldn’t show us everything he wanted to,” Sera said. “Memory crystals really aren’t very reliable, you know. It’s a shame. I think this one may already be breaking down, likely because of his aura.”

…Not the approach I would have expected.

Sera passed the crystal back to me. Based on her phrasing, I wondered if she actually wanted me to subtly break it at some point to make sure no one else could watch it, but I wasn’t going to make that leap without something clearer.

“Mara is feeling a bit…lonely,” I explained. “Seeing Keras again had a big impact on her. Maybe you could spend some time with her, get her mind off it?”

“Of course.” Sera nodded. “That sounds like a good idea, doesn’t it, Patrick?”

“R…right.”

I’d never seen Patrick look quite as conflicted as he did in that moment.

Maybe it was a bad idea to show that to him. He…he’s always been much more religious. He might not believe what Keras was saying, but either way, the implications have to bother him.

I…probably should talk to him about his faith at some point, but…

Maybe later.

We headed back to find Mara curled up into a ball across two chairs. She didn’t turn us away, though.

“Hey.” Sera sat down at Mara’s side, resting a hand on Mara’s back. “It’s going to be okay.”

Seeing what I’d just seen…I found that a little hard to believe.

***

I watched the crystal again and again. Learning the details of the fight with Katashi could be important, but the second part was more so.

It gave me a great deal to think about and plan around, moving forward.

Keras was in complete darkness for the second section, but his voice was unchanged. It was…difficult to hear him talking in this context, while he was so far away. I wished he was with us.

Things seemed a lot simpler when he was around. Safer.

But there was nothing simple about what he was telling us.

“Okay, that’s enough time to let you escape. Let’s begin, then, shall we? I wish I could have simply talked to you more directly sooner. You deserve answers, and I loathe the way I’ve had to dodge and deflect your questions. I suppose I should have more respect for what Tarren was doing now, but no, he’s still infuriating. I can only hope that by sharing all of this with you now, you’ll understand the necessity for my earlier silence.”

The first time I’d heard that message, I hadn’t been sure what he was talking about, exactly — Keras had been evasive on certain subjects, of course, but he’d been pretty clear about his reasoning when he wouldn’t share.

…That’s what I’d thought, anyway.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve been planning to share this for some time. If you’re seeing this memory at all, it means that I’ve succeeded in some ways and failed in others. Let me lay some things out. So, what am I doing here, and why?”

He paused, taking a breath.

“As I alluded to earlier, this is the Void Gateway Shrine in the Unclaimed Lands. I’m here during our trip to Caelford — I took a bit of a detour while the rest of you have been off on your own adventure. I’m not here for a boon, although I’ll likely work my way through for one regardless — it can’t hurt. No, I’m here because it’s one of the few places on Kaldwyn where I’m reasonably confident that I won’t be overheard. I’m talking to myself in utter darkness because I know that Researcher can make a memory crystal of it later, one that won’t look overly suspicious when you access it. This is, unfortunately, a necessity — anything I say in your presence has a high probability of being overheard, and I need to explain some important things.”

And the mask isn’t good enough, apparently.

“You’re probably wondering about the Mask of Kishor at this point. Ordinarily, that would prevent virtually any form of divination from observing me. Unfortunately, I’m working against a particularly canny opponent — one who was wise enough to put me in close proximity to Ceris, the Song of Harmony, a fellow artifact of Rendalir. I don’t know if I’ve had a chance to talk to you about Ceris’ properties in detail by the time of this message, but I hope that I’ve at least had a chance to imply that the sword’s aura nullifies many forms of stealth and detection-blocking abilities. It doesn’t disable the mask entirely — and I can conceal myself without the mask, to a limited degree — but even with combining my abilities with the mask, there’s enough of a vulnerability that someone with Katashi’s resources can potentially watch me. Katashi could observe me even without Ceris’ presence, but I suspect it took work on his part, and he couldn’t afford to do that continuously. With Ceris in my presence, he’s been able to have his servants monitoring me continuously.”

Most of that wasn’t terribly surprising. I knew Katashi had to be keeping an eye on Keras somehow — he’d been able to teleport me directly to Keras after my second journey into the Serpent Spire, after all.

Watching him continuously didn’t seem all that surprising, either. Keras was objectively dangerous, and if the previous memory demonstrated anything, it was that he was potentially deadly even to a visage. I could understand the necessity for monitoring someone who posed that kind of threat.

But Ceris…Keras had mentioned that it could nullify certain stealth and concealment abilities, but I didn’t realize that included his mask. That left my mind spinning in several directions, but I refocused after Keras took a breath and spoke again.

“My strong suspicion is that Katashi’s original intent for Ceris was for Sera to trade it to me. That would have met multiple goals for him at once. I would have been obligated to help Sera with something in turn, likely her ailment, and that would have kept me busy. The sword itself would have made me easier to observe. And Katashi is no doubt aware that Ceris was originally forged from the heart of Rendalir, designed as a final weapon to be used against the Sun Eater. The Sun Eater is closing in on this world. Katashi likely hoped that I would take the weapon, then leave to combat the Sun Eater’s generals as they arrive on this world, and perhaps the Sun Eater himself. If I succeeded in defeating the Sun Eater, a threat to the world would be averted. If I failed, at least he would have removed me as a problem.”

Keras gave a bitter laugh. “These sorts of machinations are sadly common among the powerful. There are shockingly few exceptions. If people were more willing to work together…well, I suppose Ishy would be out of a job, but we’d be a lot shorter on world-ending threats. I wish I could have simply told you about my suspicions, but the moment that I voiced them directly, Katashi would have known through his agents, and likely adjusted his plans further. To get ahead of him, I need to work in ways he can’t watch. To that end, I have been working with Sera for quite some time.”

That was the part that really threw me, the first time I’d heard it, and I still wasn’t sure what to make of it. There were obvious signs, in retrospect, but it still startled me. I would have blinked if I could have, but my body was not my own.

“Under the guise of negotiating for Ceris, Sera and I have been gradually working on establishing a spirit bond between the two of us. Due to…previous experiences with spirit bonds, and the risks involved, we needed to work slowly. A full Summoner-style contract was too dangerous, both due to the damage to Sera’s attunement and her mana levels being insufficient. Instead, we utilized a bond similar to what I originally formed with Dawnbringer, which allowed for telepathic communication. We did this knowing we would be observed, but the rationale for it was plausible — Sera eventually wanted a full Summoner contract with me, and a spirit bond would be an intermediary step to test the safety of such a bond while her attunement was weak.”

My mind flashed to overhearing Keras deny Sera something, claiming it was “unsafe” until she was at least Sunstone-level. I’d considered the possibility that was about a Summoner contract, but I hadn’t thought about an intermediary step being taken in the meantime. I knew that Keras could make bonds with others — he’d managed to make one with Diamantine almost instantly during his battle with Akadi during the Sacred Sword Tournament — but I hadn’t thought about him being able to apply that to humans.

“I obviously considered spirit bonding with everyone else for telepathy, too. There were two main issues with that. First, it would have been more dangerous for anyone else. Sera’s attunement functions extremely similarly to spirit bonding and has built-in functions that help to protect her from dangerous mana flowing from outside sources. And second, Sera had the most plausible reason for pursuing a bond of that kind with me. If Katashi’s followers have been watching her closely, they’d know her habit of trying to form bonds with any powerful entity that she came across — forming a bond with me wouldn’t seem any different from her standard habits.”

That all made sense, even if it did mean that I felt a little…left out.

Mara must feel even worse about it, I realized. Unless she knew…but I doubt it.

“Sera and I discussed if there was any way for her to communicate these things to the rest of you even if I could not, but she’s even easier to observe than I am, and I’m confident Katashi’s followers were keeping an eye on all of us. She’s been pushing for communication enchantments, and we’ve discussed the idea of using those to share this type of information, but we suspect even that type of communication may be monitored and intercepted. Ideally, we wanted to find a way to establish a telepathic network to communicate what we’re doing with everyone, but it isn’t that simple. Perhaps we’ll manage that, but if you’re seeing this, we’ve likely abandoned that plan or put it on hold in favor of other things — and thus, this memory crystal, recorded in a region absolutely saturated in void. Since Sera and Ceris are not with me, my hope is that between the power of the Void Gateway Crystal and my mask, I am currently in one of very few areas that is beyond Katashi’s observation.”

Keras exhaled. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I’ve had to take these extreme precautions. The stakes here are simply too great to allow for errors. I hope that when I share more with you, you’ll understand why. So, let’s get into what we really need to talk about — the visages. And, without hyperbole, the fate of the world.”

As dramatic as that line was, he didn’t sound like he was exaggerating for effect — he sounded…tired. Very tired.

He paused a moment, seeming to struggle to find the right words to continue. “When I first came to this continent, I sought the help of Selys to handle an existential threat to our world. I discovered that I had been deliberately sent on a false quest and that Selys was beyond my reach at that time. I left, returning only after searching the world for other solutions and watching the Sun Eater’s influence expanding more rapidly than I could combat on my own. Again, I sought Selys, but found myself turned aside by the very entities that were supposedly the inheritors of her will. I fought Katashi, met you, and fought through the Tiger Spire. I already knew that things on this continent were amiss, but when I reached the fiftieth floor of the Tiger Spire, I saw how far things had spiraled beyond the knowledge of the public.

“I didn’t find Ferras on the fiftieth floor of the spire, Corin. I found Kerivas, the Visage of Law.”

I focused again, more interested in this part of the conversation, in spite of having heard it before.

A second visage in the wrong spire? I’d known that Ferras was “unavailable” from when I tried to use my Petitioner’s Coin at the Tiger Spire, but…I’d thought she was just…busy, or something. She was eccentric, often known for wandering throughout Caelford in mortal guise. Perhaps that was all that was happening, but…

“I’ll just lay things out for you directly — Kerivas told me what I believe to be the truth. The visages will not allow me to reach Selys because they do not want her to know the events that are transpiring on Kaldwyn. They don’t want her to know that a faction of the visages is attempting to stage a coup, breaking the long-standing traditions of non-intervention in the lands of the others. I do not believe Katashi was the hand that brought Tenjin low, nor Tristan’s mysterious sponsor. I do believe that he saw an opportunity — one likely created by Wydd, though that part I remain uncertain about — and began to plan his conquest as soon as Tenjin was captured. He never intended for Tenjin to be rescued. That would, in fact, be antithetical to his plans — instead, he made the motions of pushing for a rescue, while isolating the Serpent Spire from any outside intervention that might allow Tenjin to be freed.”

I felt a now-familiar pang of embarrassment and shame.

If that was true…if control of the Serpent Spire and Valia were his plans all along…

We’d all been played, hadn’t we?

“For what it’s worth,” Keras continued, “I’m sure others figured this out and began to make plans. Unfortunately, at least some of those people were among those that Katashi ordered Mizuchi to eliminate. It’s possible that Mizuchi was telling the truth about those people being allied with a servant of the Tyrant in Gold, of course. If they’d figured out that another visage was responsible for keeping Tenjin hostage, a Child of the Tyrant might have been their only hope at finding someone powerful enough to facilitate a rescue. I doubt Saffron would have ever actually helped rescue Tenjin, but it’s plausible that some of the people who were killed at the Winter Ball actually believed that.”

Does…Meltlake know? I wished I could ask her immediately after the vision, but there was no way to do so. If not, I need to find a way to tell her. Maybe just…show her this crystal? When will I have the chance to do that?

That was, of course, assuming that Keras was correct in his assumptions. I couldn’t take anything someone told me about events on this scale at face value — he’d told me that time and time again himself. And if this crystal proved anything, there were angles that none of us had been able to anticipate without gathering more information. Even if Keras was being completely honest with me in this memory, his assumptions could have been flawed.

…But much of what he was saying made sense.

Keras continued his explanation. “As for Kerivas, she cannot be counted as an ally, but I would not consider her an enemy, either. She claims she doesn’t know where Ferras is. I think that might be true. Essentially, she’s being opportunistic in the same way that Katashi is, but for taking control over Caelford rather than Valia. She speaks of this purely in pragmatic terms, claiming that someone must watch over Caelford in Ferras’ absence, else Katashi will simply conquer them as soon as his control over Valia is complete. Perhaps that is true, and to her credit, she has not closed off access to the spire or prevented searches for Ferras by the people of Caelford who are aware of Ferras’ absence…but I can’t help but see another would-be conqueror, hoping to see Edria’s power expand even further across the continent.”

Wonderful. That means the most obvious allies to Valia will have their own concerns during the impending invasion — and potentially Edrian influence to prevent them from interceding.

“If I thought I could resolve this simply by finding Ferras or freeing Tenjin,” Keras explained, “I’d pursue that with all of my strength. But I still do not know who the puppet master behind Tenjin’s initial disappearance was, nor more than a few scattered hints about Ferras vanishing. Investigation into political scheming has never been my strength. I’m much more proficient at direct action…which is, of course, why Katashi has been attempting to deflect me this entire time. And I’ve been forced to let him believe that he’s succeeded.”

I still wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but I had some better ideas after considering it.

If he’s planning to come back, likely via Sera summoning him at some integral time, that’s…I mean, it’s good news, but doesn’t that derail his entire plan regarding the Sun Eater?

Maybe if he’s moving somewhere in the Seventh Spire with Wrynn, the idea is that even if Sera summons him to wherever we are, Wrynn can just summon him back a few hours later using the Jaden Box? If she has some way of charging it herself to remove the six-month waiting period, that would solve a lot of the potential logistical issues there.

But is there something else I’m missing? And…is that even a good plan?

Even if he can beat Katashi, which is…well, it’s a “maybe”…didn’t Keras say that killing a visage could make them explode in a continent-destroying blast? What’s his plan for that? His typical non-violent takedowns don’t seem like they’d have any use against a visage.

Does he have a tool I’m not aware of? Another weapon, a technique?

There was too much that I wasn’t aware of, even with all of what he was telling me.

“I don’t know when you’re going to be watching this crystal, but I can say this — I’m not abandoning you. I may need to leave for a time to give Katashi the impression that he’s successfully removed me as a threat, and I don’t know how long it will take for me to return. At a minimum, I will likely need to find someone worthy to carry Ceris against the Sun Eater. This could take a significant time — maybe months, but more likely years. I wish I could be more certain. The world’s safety must be my highest priority…but I won’t be gone forever. And no matter how many layers Katashi has to his plans, I’ve already shown you something important.

“He’s not invincible. Not to me.”

I heard a rustling sound. Movement.

“Well, it seems like something has finally decided to see if I make a good snack. And this seems a suitably dramatic point to end my message. So, Corin — remember this. Things may be difficult, but even in the darkest moments…”

I heard the sound of metal shifting.

“We can make our own light. Silver Dawn.”

My vision flooded with blinding brilliance—

And the memory ended.

***

It was hours later that we finally found a way to talk about elements of the situation, back in a sleeping car. Sera, of course, was the one who opened the discussion.

“I’ve been thinking about what Elora and Meltlake told us earlier, and I believe I have a clearer understanding of what we’ll be dealing with at the Emerald Council. Our earlier notions about the invasion were predicated on an idea of repetition of the Six Years War, but that’s not what is happening here.”

Patrick leaned forward in his chair. “If it isn’t that, then what are we dealing with?”

“A different nation.” I exhaled a long breath. “It’s like Sera said earlier — it’s not Edria we need to be worried about. It’s Dalenos. It’s always been Dalenos.”

Patrick blanched. “But…that doesn’t make sense.”

I caught a look from Sera and, for once, I think I read it correctly.

I need to be a little performative here. Pretend I’m just figuring this out, in case we’re still being watched. Going to be strange laying out things that Keras just told us like they’re new ideas, but…

“…Why?” I asked absently. “What would their motivation be? We’re allies! And Dalenos…they’re people of faith. They wouldn’t break our treaties, would they?”

“That’s the funny thing about faith,” Sera said, sitting across from us. “It’s only as good as the person you put it in.”

Patrick gave her a wounded look. “That’s…but Dalenos listens directly to Katashi. He’s the ultimate authority there. They wouldn’t go to war without his order, would they?”

“That,” Sera explained, “is precisely what they’re doing.”

We went silent for a moment, processing.

“…But…” Patrick whispered. “…He…why? He’s…he’s the Visage of Justice. Have we truly fallen so far that he would…”

“That will be the excuse, yes.” Sera shivered, pulling up her blankets further. “That Valia has fallen into unprecedented corruption. That we betrayed our own visage, turning to the Tyrant in Gold for power. Mizuchi said as much when she attacked the ball.”

“But…we…we stopped that. We…I…killed…”

“Yes, we killed Saffron. That was probably convenient, given that Saffron was likely one of the only people in Valia powerful enough to pose a problem to a visage. Not that Katashi would have had any difficulty fighting a fledgling vae’kes, of course. But if Katashi just went in there and obliterated Saffron, someone like Aayara might have stepped in, which would have been trouble. And, as an added bonus, we lost an Emerald in the process of fighting Saffron! We have,” Sera laughed bitterly, “done our invaders a great service.”

“You think this was his plan from the start.” It wasn’t a question. — I was making a statement.

Sera nodded vehemently. “Or, at a minimum, from shortly after Tenjin’s disappearance. I don’t know if Katashi orchestrated his brother’s fall, but he chose to take advantage of it to expand his reach. I can’t believe it would be possible for anyone to hide from a visage’s reach for this long — not unless Katashi was letting him stay that way. Even if we entertain the possibility that Katashi couldn’t get into wherever Tenjin is located with several months of effort, all he would have needed to do was make one of his empty promises to Keras. Our dear Keras would have broken through any defenses immediately if he was offered a lead on his friends — or told that there were children being held prisoner inside, or whatever.”

“Careful.” Mara sat up a hint straighter for the first time in days. “Might be that I’m a little pissed at Keras for walkin’ out when we need him, but he hasn’t earned that kind of disrespect. Your brother wouldn’t be here if Keras hadn’t stepped in the first time Saffron showed his ugly mug.”

“…A valid point.” Sera raised her hands in a defensive gesture. “And I meant no insult. Apologies. But there is one indisputable fact here — Katashi had access to Keras and a position to ask for a favor. And, even if we grant that Katashi didn’t know where Tristan was until our battle with Mizuchi — which I very sincerely doubt — he certainly knew at that point. It would have been a trivial effort at that point to pay Keras a visit and ask him to break down a door, then release him from service. Katashi never did that.”

“We don’t know that Katashi didn’t break down the door on his own — we haven’t heard from Tristan in a while,” Patrick noted.

My heart sank a little at that.

“True,” Sera allowed, “but if he did, where is Tenjin? Would he not have been returned to us by now if Katashi willed it so?”

“…What if Tenjin is dead?” I asked.

Sera shrugged. “Then, if Katashi found the body, perhaps he could have resurrected him. I don’t know if the visages are capable of resurrection. If they’re not, however, he certainly would have had the grounds for some sort of immediate demonstration of revenge in the aftermath. No such event occurred. The spire remains locked. No, Katashi has been taking his time with this, allowing our nation to slowly deteriorate. It is the only thing that makes sense.”

“With what motive?” I asked. “Let’s say he takes over Valia. Gets an extra tower for Dalenos. That’s expanded influence, sure, but what’s the end goal?”

“That,” Sera admitted, “I’m still working out.”

***

The mood over the next few days was somber. With my permission, Mara watched the crystal again…more times than may have been healthy.

After a brief discussion and Sera’s insistence, we shared the crystal with Elora Theas as well.

“How quaint,” Elora said as she returned it to me. “Thank you for the entertainment.”

If she was shocked by anything in there, I had no idea — her response was just as playful and inscrutable as usual.

Elora remained on the train with us, but she was busy with meetings for much of the rest of the trip. I had to wonder if we’d caused some of those meetings by showing her the crystal. Sheridan had remained behind in Valia, much to my dismay — they were still treating too many wounded to come along. Elora’s guest was her cousin, Alexander Theas, a dual-attuned who Keras had spoken of as one of the strongest combatants in the Sacred Sword Tournament ten years earlier. Though his auras both showed Citrine level at a glance, I suspected at least one of them was at Emerald level, and that he was simply planning to unveil his strength at the gathering. There were other House Theas retainers present on the train as well, and I suspected some of them would serve as Elora and Alexander’s “actual” guests once Alexander had proven his Emerald status.

There were likely others on the train that were headed for our destination, but I wasn’t certain about any of them. I looked a few times to see if Lute was present, but I didn’t find any sign of him.

I did see two familiar faces, though — Mary Hawthorne and Vermillion Rose.

Could Mary or Vermillion already be Emeralds?

I doubted it, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if they had tricks to inflate their apparent power, other reasons for attending, or possibly a proxy invitation like Patrick’s.

Figuring out what they were there for would have been useful. There was something else, too. Whenever I saw Vermillion, I thought I felt Selys-Lyann stirring at my side, just a tiny bit, and a feeling of…recognition? It was the closest thing I’d felt to Thorn waking up since the fight with Saffron, but whatever it was, simply being around Vermillion wasn’t enough to complete the process.

I considered talking to them, but I decided against it for the moment. I didn’t know enough about their motivations to be sure about how much I should say to them. I hoped to approach them with Sera, but her condition seemed to be worsening on the train, and I didn’t want to bother her. I hoped she’d recover by the end of the train ride, both due to my general concerns about her health and because I hoped for her assistance in figuring out how to deal with Mary.

Mary came to me first. She found me walking to the dining car, waving a hand to get my attention. She was dressed in long white robes that I would have characterized as some kind of priestly outfit, looking loosely Artinian in style. Her signature longbow was missing, but she was wearing the kind of wrist guards I usually saw archers wear, so I suspected she had it stored in an extra dimensional space of some kind. “Corin. Can I call you Corin?”

I blinked. “Sure. Not big on formality. Uh, can I call you Mary?”

“Of course!” She brightened. “I know we haven’t really talked much outside of class, but Elora mentioned you were involved with some things, and…is there somewhere private you’d be comfortable talking?”

I wasn’t sure quite what she wanted to discuss, but if Elora had pointed her at me, I supposed it was probably worth exploring. The paranoid side of my mind always screamed about going off alone anywhere with anyone I didn’t know, but I was neither weak nor isolated. I had communication items handy, and while I wasn’t supposed to be using my Enchanter attunement for an unspecified period of time, I still had plenty of other tricks.

“We can go back to my sleeping car for a bit, I think Patrick is out with the others right now.”

“Wonderful. Lead the way.”

She followed me back to my room, and I gestured for her to sit. Then, recalling her mention of privacy, I began to extract my void emitters from my dimensional bag and set them up around the room.

“What do those do?”

I blinked again. “Oh. I forgot that I hadn’t explained, sorry. Void emitters. They’re useful for disrupting magic in general, but at the moment, I’m primarily using them to block anything that might be observing us. I have some pre-fabricated enchanted items for divination and teleportation blocking already set up on the walls,” I gestured, “but you asked for privacy, and I wasn’t sure if those would be sufficient for your standards, so…”

She gave me a warm smile. “I just meant a place without other people, Corin. That said, this is a sensitive matter, so I think you’re wise to take some precautions.”

I felt a little abashed, but her second statement was enough to save me from crippling embarrassment.

…And even knowing she hadn’t meant magical security, I still felt like what I had on-hand was insufficient. Normally, I would have etched runes into the walls, but I really needed to avoid using my attunement while I was recovering. So, I was stuck with using what I already had in my bag. Using batteries to charge enchantments would have been lower strain than using my Enchanter mana directly, but I still didn’t want to risk it. I…didn’t like remembering how I’d felt when I’d pushed myself fighting Saffron. I’d come within a hair of ending up like my great grandfather had. Without Thorn…

I didn’t like to think about how that might have ended.

I finished setting up the last emitter, then sat down to talk and gestured for her to take a seat nearby. She sat down, folding her hands in her lap in way that struck me as very formal. Or…maybe something of a Dalenos style?

Huh. Wonder if her family has a history with Dalenos, or perhaps East Edria, like Jin. She doesn’t look overtly like that to me, but that doesn’t really say anything. People move between countries all the time. She might have even been born there.

“Thanks for your patience. What did you want to talk about?”

“A lot of things, to be honest.” She frowned. “Sometime during the trip, we may want to talk strategy for the council. I’m told you may end up having a personal vote?”

I waved a hand uncertainly. “It’s hypothetically possible.” I wasn’t sure what I should say — I didn’t really know her. We seemed to ostensibly be on the same “side,” in that we were both there accompanying Elora in some capacity, but I didn’t even know what Elora’s motives were. I had very little idea of whether or not we actually aligned politically, save that she was clearly opposed to Valia being invaded — which obviously I agreed with — and that she’d been one of the ones organizing the fight against the Sons of Valia.

But Elora had also been working in secret with Tristan, and she’d been directly involved in Tenjin’s capture. We still hadn’t really talked about that in any detail, and she clearly had connections with things that I wasn’t aware of.

Obviously, I also considered that Mary saying that Elora had sent her wasn’t even true, but it was so easy to verify that it seemed like a silly thing to lie about.

Ultimately, I decided to share a bit that wasn’t hugely dangerous, and also should have been fairly obvious from what Mary could have observed on campus. She clearly had access to a restricted attunement herself — or her bow had similar powers, or both — so she very likely already had put some things together about me.

I suppose there’s an easy enough way to check her baseline knowledge.

“What do you already know about my attunements?” I asked.

Admitting I had multiple attunements outright was already a little bit of a gamble, but I’d have been shocked if she hadn’t figured that part out on her own already.

“You’re an Enchanter with a secondary Arbiter attunement. You’re nearing Sunstone with both, or already there and suppressing. What do you know about mine?”

Not bad. And that’s a good question.

I thought back to what I’d seen the last time I’d looked at her with Detect Aura, which was during the tournament. I’d seen a Sunstone-level aura, emanating from her chest. A Heart Mark. Aside from that, I’d seen four other sources of mana.

The others were unusual, non-attunement colors. The first additional glow was a swirling nexus of black, gold, and green around her right hand. Gold was the most pronounced color of the bunch.

Might be a mix of a gold and green mana type and a gold and black mana type? That’s…hm.

The second and third glows were similar colors, but with more gold than black, located in her left hand and neck.

Different compositions of the same mana type, most likely, or something like a mix of a composite mana types and a few other less prominent ones.

The neck one is…odd. No attunement point there, but…that’s a classical Dianis Point location. A crystal mark, maybe, or something similar. Or she’s an actual essence sorcerer? That’d be odd, but…

Lastly, I’d seen glow in the center of her forehead, which was solid white. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that one, but I was pretty confident about the first two. Enough to throw a guess at her, at least.

“Corin, my eyes are up here.”

I nodded absently. “Yeah, that’s where one of your power sources is, but I haven’t figured that one out yet. The others are more consistent in essence composition. Sunstone-level attunement, at least last time I looked. I’m guessing you’re an Abjurer, given what I’ve seen you demonstrate, but it’s possible that your banishment abilities are from one of your other power sources.”

I frowned. Mary blinked.

I kept going. “I’d like to think it’s some combination of both, considering how similar four of your mana types are. Something like…a spirit bond to your bow, granting you more banishment power, then compounding further with two other points. A crystal mark, maybe, or a classic Dianis Point, and something with more of a mixture of powers, but still leaning into the banishment. Artificial attunement, maybe? Given what I’ve heard you’ve managed to accomplish, I’m guessing you’re compounding banishment mana, and nearing a banishment specialization?”

She laughed. “Oh, I knew I’d like you. We should have talked a lot sooner. Kuro would have…” Her expression sank.

Oh, no. I, uh…

I didn’t know what to say if I’d somehow reminded her of her former teammate.

Her dead teammate.

“I…I’m sorry for your loss.”

Her shoulders are slumped. “Thanks. It’s…still hard. I wish…I wish we’d at least been able to bury him, you know?”

I frowned. “Why couldn’t you?”

“You didn’t hear?” Mary trembled, her jaw tightening. “His body. They…they took it. Like how they were collecting arms. We…” She looked away. “We looked, when we did our raid on the base, but…we never found it.”

I shuddered, thinking of when we’d found all those severed arms in the boxes. If they were taking entire bodies, too, I hadn’t seen them after we’d fought Saffron, but that just meant they’d been moved or stored elsewhere. “That’s truly awful. I’m sorry.”

She nodded sadly. “That is…somewhat related to one of the things I sought to speak to you about. I understand that you were involved in one of the other Sons of Valia base attacks, and that you suffered some losses as well.”

I winced. “I…it was a mess. I…” I hesitated. “Wait. How much do you know? I…I don’t mean to pressure you with questions, but…”

Mary shook her head. “Don’t think anything of it. Being concerned is completely reasonable. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t disclose my own involvement in these things to virtually anyone, but Elora told me directly that you were with Derek Hartigan’s team when he…when he was taken. A part of me wants to say that I wish I was there to help, but…I don’t think I could have done any better than you did, if I’m being honest. I’m not sure anyone could have.”

Keras could have, if he was there.

I pushed aside a hint of resentment. I knew that I couldn’t count on Keras to be there every minute of every day. He couldn’t always be there to fight my battles.

I knew that…and yet, it still hurt. His absence at precisely the wrong time had cost Derek his freedom and Sera…I didn’t even know. Saying “her life” felt like hyperbole, but she had died…or, at least, been at death’s threshold. I wasn’t sure what element Aayara had seen that was salvageable, or how she’d helped Sera, but whatever had revived Sera clearly hadn’t been a perfect cure.

That was still a work in progress at best.

“Thanks. I…I don’t think anyone from the other teams could have helped, either. You know who we were fighting?”

She nodded. “A Child of the Tyrant in Gold. Saffron. I’d love to hear what you can remember from the fight sometime, if you’re willing to share, but I understand if it may be too raw for now.”

“I…maybe sometime.” I nodded. “You seem to know a lot. You were there, then, with one of the other teams?”

“With Elora’s team. After what happened to Kuro, Rosie and I were determined to make a difference. We were hoping we’d get assigned to hit a location where Team Bloodline was holing up, but we weren’t that lucky. Did end up getting into a fight with some of the Sons of Valia, but they were strangers. It didn’t feel the same.” Her hands trembled. “Team Bloodline still is out on the streets. They helped kill my friend, and…nothing is being done.”

I frowned. “I don’t want to be rude, but…how is that possible? I mean, I understand that they must have the guard in their pocket — they have people from Haven branch families involved — but…there has to be a level of evidence you could present that would be irrefutable. Memory crystals, that sort of thing.”

She sighed. “You’d think so. I don’t blame you for asking. I asked exactly the same thing. They told me that memory crystals can be faked, and that — going a level deeper — even memories themselves can be falsified. So, even if I was interrogated under compulsion and honestly believed they were involved…or a member of the guard made a crystal directly from my memories…that would also be suspect.”

“Can the Sons of Valia even do that? Mess with memories?”

“Unfortunately, yes. That is within their known capabilities. They operate in small groups, with their memories of leadership figures suppressed and replaced. That way, if they get captured and a Diviner tries to view their memories, they get something useless or misleading. They’ll see a memory of getting orders from a person unaffiliated with the sons, for example, to set people on a false trail. Those can range from targeted to cause harassment — like, say, a vision of Chancellor Meltlake as the puppet master for the sons — to things like Tenjin himself giving the orders. Or even more esoteric things, like getting the orders from a hooded figure composed of shadows, or a purely fictional character.”

I groaned. “…Isn’t there any way to determine if someone has suppressed or altered memories?”

“Sure,” she explained. “Unfortunately, every single attuned does.”

I winced. “Judgments. Right. Can’t those suppressed memories be distinguished from others?”

“Probably at extremely high levels, but I’m not a Diviner, either. My understanding is that anything that could undo the kind of heavy memory alteration and suppression that the sons go through might also undo the memory suppression from their Judgment, which would be considered giving someone forbidden knowledge. I’m sure that some people have pursued it anyway, but since you’d have to violate laws to do it, you can’t present that in a courtroom.”

“…Aren’t there exceptions for that kind of extreme circumstance?”

“You’d think so, but they turned me out on the street without giving me even this much information. I had to dig for these answers. I don’t even know how Elora and Derek found out what they did — Rosie and I tried some tracking on our own and we didn’t have any success at all. Too many false leads. It makes sense now, knowing a Child of the Tyrant was involved — aside from personal power, they all have vast resources to draw from.”

“…I didn’t realize tracing them was so difficult. I went out to patrol defensively a bit, but…” I shook my head. “I didn’t really accomplish anything, either.”

“You certainly did, in the end. You were integral in taking down a Child of the Tyrant, Corin. You brought an end to it. If no one else has said this already…thank you. We haven’t properly avenged Kuro yet, but…that’s a good start.”

I bowed my head. “You’re…welcome. I…I’m glad that I helped, I guess. But I feel like I ignored things for longer than I should have. I was caught up in my own affairs…”

“You mean your duel with your father? Everyone heard about that, Corin. Preparing for a duel against your own parent would be stressful for literally anyone, and he was a professional duelist. I didn’t hear about how that went, but I did hear that you won. I’d…scarcely believe that if I hadn’t seen you swinging a sword at Mizuchi at the Winter Ball. Barely anyone could even stand, let alone fight her.”

I gave her a hint of a smile. “You were shooting arrows at her before I broke out, if I remember right.”

“Sure, but I was at the furthest corner of her area of effect for the compulsion — and my attunement is built for countering magic. And beyond that, even I didn’t dare to get anywhere close to her. Fighting her in melee range?” She laughed. “You’re a madman.”

“If you think that’s bad, you should hear about the second time I fought her.”

Her eyes widened fractionally. “You’re joking.”

“Nope. I…we’re getting side-tracked, aren’t we?”

Mary nodded. “We are, but…I don’t mind. Do you?”

I thought about it for a moment, briefly perplexed as I realized that my heart felt…lighter than before. Lighter than it had in a while.

I hadn’t really had a chance to share things like this, before. Not with anyone outside of my inner circle, at least.

“No,” I answered finally. “Not at all. Trade you a story for a story? I want to know what’s going on with that head mark of yours.”

“Ooh, you drive a hard bargain, sir,” Mary smiled, “but be warned — you won’t want to stop after making just one deal.”

Chapter IV – Different Types of Wounds

It wasn’t much later that Sera called our little group together for a gathering. This wasn’t unusual, we met several times a day, but there was something that felt more urgent and official this time.

“What’s going on?” I asked as I sat down.

“I’ve been gathering information while we ride,” Sera explained, pulling up her blanket. “Less than I’d like, considering how much time I’ve been stuck in bed, but I’ve been getting up when I can and asking around. I think I have a better idea of what we’re dealing with, and I think it’s important to set expectations.”

“In terms of the war,” Mara asked, “or the Emerald Council?”

“Yes.” Sera said. “In terms of those. And other things. But the council should be the primary focus of this discussion. It will be the focus of my energy for some time, and likely many of yours as well.”

“Not all?” Patrick asked.

“We’re all going to have some measure of involvement, I suspect, but Mara,” Sera looked apologetic, “doesn’t have the sway we do. Not yet, at any rate.”

Mara simply shrugged. “Wasn’t expecting to.”

“You could lean into your apprenticeship to Keras,” Sera suggested, “and that would give you some leverage, but…”

“Will think on it.” Mara nodded.

“Right.” Sera turned to Patrick. “The most important thing to understand is that there will be a great deal of discourse about voting. Votes in the Emerald Council can require either a simple majority or three-fourths of the total votes available, depending on the specific nature of the issue. Most of the major subjects will require a three-quarters majority, which is hugely unlikely to be met. There are also vetoes possible on certain subjects. Effectively, this structure means that a single nation with a significant number of Emerald representatives — say, Dalenos — can block major actions from being taken.”

“Then…what’s the point?” I asked.

“The Emerald Council’s votes are more effective during peacetime, which has been the vast majority of this iteration of the council’s history. Votes are used for things that every nation can theoretically agree on, if only grudgingly. Mutual interests, like each nation dedicating some resources toward an international trade plan, or toward investments in infrastructure and technology that could benefit all parties. It’s expected that on more minor issues, votes will be traded — someone from Dalenos is convinced to vote on a subject that benefits Valia more in exchange for a vote on Dalenos-centric subject later. Things like unofficial control over elemental temples based on their geographic proximity to major nations, or anything dealing with Sytennia and Erawen.”

“How does the war play into this?” I asked. “If any votes related to the war will just be blocked by Dalenos, is there any point to the meeting?”

“Oh, there are many points. First, if Dalenos wants to be able to block things, they need to have sufficient representation at the council to form a solid voting bloc. That means Emeralds dedicated to staying at the council, rather than on the battlefield, and in large numbers.”

“But other nations have to send Emeralds to outnumber them, so isn’t that a wash?” Patrick asked.

“Keeping Emeralds off the battlefield reduces lethality. And they don’t necessarily need to match Dalenos’ numbers, if it’s three other nations — they just need to send enough to prevent a reverse ratio where Dalenos somehow has a majority.”

“This is all presuming Dalenos has no allies,” I noted. “What happens if they get Edria on their side or something?”

“We lose,” Sera said. “Which is another reason we need to be there. Deals are going to be brokered. The votes themselves are less important than many of the other impressions that are made. That doesn’t make voting irrelevant, of course. Holding voting power makes someone significant. Patrick should expect people to be courting him to trade votes on specific subjects that have nothing to do with the war. Or, perhaps things that do involve the war, but indirectly. One could, for example, expect to see a vote that involves dedicating forces to hunting down the Sun Eater’s followers. This could potentially cause delays in war logistics for Dalenos if they’re obligated to participate, and it would be a reasonable goal to pursue that they may not be able to veto or vote against as easily as something more direct. Katashi will have accounted for this, but he might allow it.” She took a breath. “There are many things I still don’t know, and any of us that have a vote should expect to make some judgment calls on possible impacts their votes could have that may not be immediately obvious.”

“Is getting more votes possible?” I asked.

“The most likely way to do that is if some of our Emeralds have to leave and decide to hand off votes to us as proxies. I’m a candidate if Elora has to leave, for example. She has others that are closer to her house, but as a God Beast Summoner, on paper, I look very much like an apprentice to her. That said, I’d prefer that she stays. I am not in the best of shape, physically or mentally, and Elora has both experience and knowledge that I lack. She’s better for the job.”

I started to say something, but she raised a hand to forestall me.

“I’m not being overly hard on myself when I say that. I’m being realistic. I may not strictly trust Elora, but she’s the closest thing we have to a leadership figure in this endeavor, and I am not in any condition to take her place. Neither are any of you. That is simply a statement of fact. What we need to do is find the best ways we can to support those of our nation who have more experience and leverage, directly or indirectly. Hopefully, we can do this in ways that play to our strengths. I’ll be talking to people, gathering information, and making backroom deals. Patrick will make friends. Corin will probably start fights with people that could wipe us off the planet with a gesture.”

“Hey, now. I’ve only done that like…” I started counting on fingers. “Five, six, seven…okay, your point is made.”

“And me?” Mara asked.

“I’m…” Sera frowned. “…still working on that.”

***

I was still working on that, too. And Mary wasn’t the only one I discussed deals with on the train.

I enjoyed the diversion of trading stories with her — even if, unfortunately, she swore me to secrecy about her forehead mark. We resolved to talk again soon, next time actually focusing on action items for the future, but I…really needed the break of just sharing with her. I think she did, too.

It was the next day that I ran into someone else that I’d shared both stories and deals with in the past—

Lars Mantrake.

As I approached Lars, I saw that he was busy with another customer. It was hard to miss, given that said customer was dressed in all black, covered with an armored breastplate that appeared to be made out of bones, and wearing a crown that was currently on fire. I'm pretty sure that last part was against train safety regulations, but if the man was concerned, it didn't show in his glowing eyes.

I blinked as the strange man turned toward me briefly, then shook his head silently and reached forward, gesturing downward. A portal opened as he shifted his hand, then stepped through it, vanishing along with the portal.

“Huh.” I stepped over to eyes. “That was quite an outfit. Necromancer?”

“Calls ‘imself a ‘decemancer’, whatever that is. I don’t ask too many questions when someone looks like that.” He gave me a bright smile. “Now, how’s my favorite customer doing?”

“Corin Cadence! My favorite customer. Come, sit!”

“Sure, but uh, let me grab food first?”

I might have forgotten to eat the day before. After Mary had interrupted my trip to the dining hall, I just kind of…didn’t try again. Oops.

“Of course, take your time. Browse! There’s an excellent selection.”

I blinked, briefly wondering if Lars was responsible for selling the overpriced train food, but…what were the odds of that?

Anyway, I grabbed a meal, then sat down across from him. “I’m surprised to see you here. Something happen to the shop?”

He shook his head. “Just shut the doors for a bit. With the school semester over and the spire still shuttered, there aren’t a lot of local customers right now. So, I’m heading out to the expedition for some trade there. I don’t do it during every break, but I head out there on occasion and pick up some of the better goods they’ve stumbled upon.”

I nodded in understanding. “You used to be the quartermaster out there, right?”

“Indeed. Those were different days.” He sounded wistful, but pained. “Wouldn’t be bad to see some of those folks again.”

Even I wasn’t blind enough to ask for more specifics than that. Instead, I asked a completely different tactless question. “…Hey, you have a prosthesis, right?”

He tilted his head to the side, as if baffled by the change in subject. “Yes?”

“I, uh, one of my friends recently lost a limb, and I was wondering—”

“Ah. Yes, of course.” He nodded grimly. “Not an uncommon fate with climbers. I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Thanks.”

He nodded, then continued. “I don’t sell prosthetics myself, but I can give you some recommendations. My own was a custom build by someone that…well, let’s say I can’t exactly introduce you right now. I can point you at a few good manufacturers, though, and some other options for you to look into. What’s your price range?”

“…I don’t know?”

“You’re going to want to figure that out. A good prosthesis isn’t cheap.”

“I don’t suppose you think I could make one myself?”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t wager there being good odds on you getting positive results if you’ve never tried it. It’s one thing to make a gauntlet, it’s another thing to make it move like a hand…and it’s another thing entirely to get it to move organically. You could study, but your friend might not want to wait.”

I nodded. “Throw some options at me.”

“Sure. Well, first off…I’m sure you’ve heard of Farren Labs?”

I sighed.

“I might have heard of them.”

***

I wrapped up the chat with Lars pretty quickly, although he did actually manage to get me to buy something for a change. I didn’t have a lot of coin on me, but what he was selling was simple and practical — adhesive-backed hooks to attach to the backs of shield sigils and similar items. While my sigils were already easy to pin onto anything, I bought a set of six of the hooks to attach to other devices, like my batteries and void emitters. They stuck onto the back of the items easily, after which I could easily hook them onto my belt or another object.

I attached a couple of the hooks immediately — one to a transference battery and one to a void emitter — and tested them on my belt. Fortunately, they didn’t cause any immediate interference while they were inactive, but I’d have to work on adding some anti-interference enchantments to them if I wanted to use them in close proximity to other items.

After that, I went to visit Sera, both to assess her recovery and for a sanity check on my own plans. I knocked on the door to her private car and she told me to come in.

Fortunately, she was alone, reading a book while Mara and Patrick were off doing something elsewhere.

“How are you feeling?”

“Still terrible, but that’s to be expected.” She closed her book. “Do you need something?”

“Not if you’re busy or not feeling up to—”

She grimaced, forcing herself to sit up in her bed, then shifted her blankets to keep them covering her. “Just spit it out.”

“I need your opinion on if it’s too early to talk to Mara about prosthetics again.”

She gave me a look of genuine surprise. “That’s surprisingly circumspect of you. You’re learning.”

I shrugged. “I’m trying. Can’t promise I’m going to be great at…people, but I can tell how hard of a time she’s having, and…”

“Yeah, it’s a good question. You’re right to ask, but so long as you don’t blunder with it too much, I think you’re fine. We’ve already discussed the general concept a little. I’ve tried to encourage her that there are methods we can take, but she’s understandably not happy with the idea of a mechanized hand, even if it’s an advanced one.” She gave me a hard look. “Please don’t tell me you’re already working on one. You know you’re not supposed to be enchanting yet.”

I raised both hands defensively. “Not yet, not yet. But in terms of that, I think I’ve figured out a workaround…”

“Corin.” She folded her arms. “Don’t push yourself. You nearly killed yourself trying to save me. I’m intensely grateful for that, believe me, but I’d really rather you avoid killing yourself as a consequence of carelessness in your recovery window.”

“I’m not sure I actually did much. Seiryu probably did the heavy lifting there until…”

“Until you arranged a contract to revive me. I’d be dead without that even if we presume your transcendent regeneration spells did nothing, which given what I’ve gleaned from everyone’s descriptions, I find unlikely. You might have been able to stop after one or two, though.” She gave me a hint of a smile. “But I can’t fault you for worrying. Thank you, Corin.”

“…You’re welcome. And thank you for worrying about me, too. But as for my workaround…don’t worry. I’m going to wait a bit before I actually try it, and it’s comparatively low risk. Let’s worry about that later. If I get distracted, I’m going to end up leaving without talking about what I originally planned to.”

She laughed lightly, then frowned and put a hand to her chest. “Ugh. Still…hurts.”

“Do you need anything?” I asked.

“Don’t think there’s anything that can be done while we’re on the train. When we reach the Emerald Council, though, I suspect there may be people that have the expertise I’d need. Mara, too, potentially. We can talk about that. You were thinking about talking to Farren?”

I nodded. “It’s an option. Her Advanced Armor Division specializes in solutions to things like this. That said, I also thought of a couple alternative options that I might want to run by Mara.”

“Tell me first. I don’t want to give her false hope — or push her toward a dangerous option when she isn’t physically or emotionally ready.”

I grimaced. “…You’re not going to like most of these, then.”

“Just tell me.”

I nodded, finally taking a seat. “Well, obviously making her something myself is a simple one. I’ve enchanted gauntlets before, and transference can move objects. And given that I’ve recently discovered how to tie attunements to items with things like my Null-Contract Gauntlets, I might be able to figure out a way to tie it to her own mana supply and let her eventually figure out how to move the fingers more-or-less organically. Lars warned me against, it, though.”

“I’m sure he did. You’d basically have to reinvent an entire field of established research. One that undoubtedly has already solved many of the problems you’d experience.”

“Yeah.” I exhaled a breath. “And while I could do some research on what is already out there, I’m sure a lot of the detailed stuff is proprietary. I asked Lars, and his prosthetic doesn’t even use standard Enchanting — it’s primarily an Architect-imbued item with enchantments to make it permanent. I don’t have a good way to emulate that kind of functionality; it's fundamentally different. So, I don’t have a good example to study.”

“Makes sense. Good on you for asking someone who already has a prosthetic. You’ve surprised me twice today. Keep that up and I’ll have to start looking for my real brother.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, we do have another one, but he’s a whole other topic. I don’t suppose you have any leads on his status?”

“None.” She shook her head. “And I asked Cecily again before we left. Nothing on her end, either.”

“Hm. Good to know. Wait. Could you ask Seiryu?”

“I’ve considered it, but I’d have to summon Seiryu to have a real conversation, and I’m not supposed to do that outside of the spire except under vanishingly rare circumstances. Saffron would have counted, but he could have simply absorbed any summoned copy of Seiryu, which is why I invoked her instead.”

“What about invoking Seiryu?”

Sera shook her head. “I can communicate with Seiryu that way, but it’s…more like sending feelings through an emotional bond while it’s active. I can sort of ask ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions, and I’ve done that before, but I’ve been advised not to invoke Seiryu again for the time being. There’s a chance it would compound the issues my body is already going through.”

I nodded in understanding. “What about summoning Seiryu for renegotiating your contract? Isn’t that a fairly standard Summoner thing that could be a reasonable excuse for a summoning?”

“A good idea, and one that could potentially allow for more conversation. I also think that Seiryu would be interested in hearing what happened in regards to the Children of the Tyrant — she may have had some awareness while I invoked her, but once I lost consciousness, she probably didn’t have much, unless she chose to scry on us…and there are a lot of variables there. Anyway, I could probably justify a summoning — especially if you were there as an Arbiter to ask for things, too — but it’s not the right place or time. The train isn’t secure enough, not to mention the problems with summoning a giant serpent on a vehicle in motion.”

“Couldn’t you make like…a tiny Seiryu?”

She laughed. “I don’t think she’d like that much, but even if I could, the security problems would be an issue…and I doubt I could get her down to a manageable size. Even the version of her I made in our first spire trip together was ‘miniature’ by her standards.”

That was a fair point. It was easy to forget that Seiryu’s true form was nearly as large as the spire itself.

Terrifying.

“Okay. Let’s plan to do that at some point soonish — but I agree that now isn’t right. Thought, though. What about Elora’s contract with Suzaku?”

“What about her contract? Summoning Suzaku would have the same limitations.”

“Oh, sorry, I was mentally jumping back a subject. Do you think Suzaku could fix Mara’s hand? Or maybe whatever is going on with…” I gestured at her.

Sera wrinkled her nose, apparently thinking. “…Hm. I don’t know. The Vermillion Bird isn’t actually the same as a phoenix…but she does share their association with fire and life mana. I’d imagine that the true form of Suzaku would be capable of managing healing on a scale we could scarcely imagine, perhaps even resurrecting the dead…but I don’t know if a construct that Elora summoned would have any greater ability than what an attuned with comparable mana could.”

“Suzaku might have an advantage in terms of theory, or perhaps mana type availability. A combination of life and fire certainly seems like a good counter to ‘body turning into ice’.”

“Sure, a good counter if I wanted to neutralize the effect — but that effect might be the only thing that is keeping me alive.”

That was a sobering thought. “…Oh. I was seeing it as more of, uh, an unexpected side effect.”

She shrugged. “Hard to say. We don’t really know what that ‘shal’ vial meant, if anything, nor if the persistent effects of Seiryu’s aid are still necessary to keep me alive. Sheridan thinks I’m stable for now, but even they weren’t able to determine exactly what happened. They believe that Seiryu used some kind of ice and enhancement spell to stabilize me for later healing, but that it may have leaked into my spirit and shade through our connection — or due to my dying state — thus causing the persistent problem. If that’s the case, it might be a side effect that I’m still suffering from it after being healed, or it might be a necessary component of my essence structure now.”

That was more than I’d heard her explain about it before, at least. “Okay. That’s…yeah, throwing fire straight at that sounds bad, even mixed with life. Suzaku might be able to identify the issue, though.”

“Sure. But it’d be wiser to at least ask Seiryu first, and to take things from there.” She drummed her fingers on the closed book. “But you’re right to start thinking ahead. I’ll talk to Elora about arranging a meeting with Suzaku when things clear up a bit, both for myself and Mara’s benefit. As the Summoner for another god beast, it wouldn’t be an unreasonable thing to ask for, but I’d certainly owe her a favor — perhaps a favor to Suzaku as well.”

“Maybe you could trade Elora a meeting with Seiryu?”

She nodded. “A logical answer, but then I’d probably owe Seiryu another favor as well, and it feels like I’m getting deeper in Seiryu’s debt by the day. I owe her a life debt, now.”

“Or a partial one, at least, given that we also needed Aayara’s intervention,” I pointed out.

“Fair, but not a distinction I necessarily care to make.” She took a breath. “Gifts. We’ll need to prepare something significant for Seiryu, then maybe for Suzaku as well.”

“A Goddess’ Tear, perhaps?”

“Not a bad thought, but given that Seiryu helped with their creation, that wouldn’t count for as much with her. Suzaku, however, would likely consider it a reasonable gift. I’ll ask Elora first, of course, but it’s a good idea.”

“How many do we have?” I asked.

“Two left in the garden, but one needs to remain there to serve as a foundation for growing more. They’re slow growing, even with all our efforts. Still, given their value…well, if we were at peace, we’d be rich beyond imagining within years.”

“Who is ‘we’ in this scenario? Are we splitting the profits on them?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“By that, I meant ‘everyone involved in the project’, and you count. Technically, you don’t have a share of any income from sales — that would be Sheridan, Cecily, and myself — but I wouldn’t leave you out if we start selling them. I suspect that the other two wouldn’t object if I asked to give you a cut in general, but for the moment, our priority is giving the first several to people we hand-select as a group. Meltlake is next, for obvious reasons.”

“Yeah, that does make sense. Okay. Hm. I could probably enchant something as another gift—”

“Not until you’re better,” Sera insisted.

“I know, I know. Or if my workaround…well, works.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re going to tell me before you try it.”

“Fine, fine. I will. But as for my other ideas for prosthetics…”

“Go on,” Sera said. “I’ll rate them on a scale of terrible to tolerable.”

I groaned, then reached into my bag and unfurled a map of the Unclaimed Lands. “…Let’s start here.”

***

It was a few hours later when I managed to pull Mara into my own room for a private talk.

“You thinkin’ about watching more of the crystals?” she asked, seeming just a little brighter than she had the day before.

“Not today. Or, er, rather, not right this very moment. I had a tough question or two for you, if this is a good time.”

She folded her arms and sat down across from me. “Can’t hit me much harder than life already has. Not with words alone, at least. What’ve you got for me?”

“I’ve been thinking about ideas for your hand.”

She froze momentarily, then shook her head and began to stand. “…Appreciate it, but I’m not…you don’t need to do anything.”

“I know. Just listen and tell me if these sound terrible, okay? Please?”

Mara hesitated, then sat back down, and said quietly. “…Don’t know why you’d rightly bother.”

I blinked. “What’s that?”

“I said, I don’t know why you’d bother. We’re not…I’m useless now. Broken.”

“You’re not broken. You’re wounded. We’ve both taken scrapes before, often together—”

She gave a bitter laugh. “Oh, don’t think you can compare this to a scratch, Corin. I’m missing a hand.” She ground her teeth, waving her wrist at me now, rather than hiding it as she once had. “I can still feel it, you know. Pain, constant, where my hand should be.”

“That’s…” I winced. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t mean to downplay it. I know it’s bad, Mara. Really bad. But if there’s anything that I’ve learned in the last year or so, it’s that there isn’t anything we can’t handle, not if we work together.”

“I mean, ‘cept Saffron, apparently.” Tears welled at the corners of her eyes. “I…he…I couldn’t do a thing, Corin. Not a reshing thing.”

She lowered her head, sobbing openly now. I stared uselessly, knowing that an ordinary person probably would have…hugged her or something. But I…

“I’m sorry, Mara. I’m truly sorry that happened, but…it’s over.”

“Not for me.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. This was going off-script, and I wasn’t good at situations like that. I almost defaulted to just showing her a memory crystal to distract her, but…that didn’t seem right, either. I didn’t even know how to shift the conversation in that direction.

“…You’re important to me.”

I said it almost without thinking. It felt like an epiphany, the kind of brilliant revelation that should have instantly fixed things in the conversation.

Unfortunately, people often didn’t react the way I felt like they should.

“Oh, sure.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Now that I’m broken, I’m interesting to you.” She stood up, staring straight at me, eyes red. “Do you think that’s what I want?”

I cringed back, lifting my hands. “It’s…it isn’t like that. I just…look, do you want a new hand or not?”

She punched the wall behind her with her remaining hand, then grimaced.

“You veking bet I want a new hand,” she growled. “But I told you already, Corin. I won’t be a project for you.”

“Can you maybe, just, uh, be my friend?”

Mara froze, looking at me for a moment uncertainly. I fell silent, nervous.

Then, her expression softened. Her response was hesitant, barely beyond a whisper. “I didn’t think you thought about people as friends.”

“I…” I winced again. “I’m working on it. And I could, uh,” I laughed awkwardly, “use your help?”

She trembled, seeming to struggle with the rage that still flowed within her, then closed her eyes and forced herself to sit back down.

“…I’m sorry about your wall.”

I glanced at the wide dent in the metal, then shrugged. “You should be. Keras would have blown out the whole wall, slacker.”

She burst into laughter, wiping at her running nose and eyes. “…Guess I better work on my technique some more. Can’t disappoint him, I…”

“We’ll both impress him next time we see him. And we will see him again.”

She looked up at me, seeming to sense the seriousness in my tone, then wiped her eyes again. “…You got a handkerchief or something I can use?”

“Uh, yeah.” I reached into my dimensional bag and tossed her one.

“…This is pink. With roses. Where did you get this?” She laughed, then blew her nose loudly into the handkerchief. “Do you have a secret boyfriend or something?”

“I honestly haven’t the slightest idea…about the answers to either of those questions, honestly.” I chuckled. “With my social skills, I could have two or three boyfriends at this point without realizing it.”

“That checks out. Maybe a girlfriend or two as well. Maybe a serpent…”

“Don’t even start. Even I noticed Satsuki’s attention was a little, uh, intense.” I groaned. “But let’s not talk about that just now. You feeling better?”

“I feel like resh, but that’s no different than the last few days, so let’s get on with it. Alright, Corin. What’s your masterful plan?”

“I have several.”

“Of course you do. Okay, hit me. Not literally, I’d hit back.”

“Understood. So…”

I laid out the basic plans with the prosthetics I’d talked to Sera about — things like making one myself or talking to Farren Labs. Predictably, Mara didn’t seem enthusiastic.

When I mentioned Suzaku, though…

“Do you think she could fix me?”

I could hear the fragile hope in her voice.

“Maybe. Let’s not assume anything, but if you want, Sera and I could look into it.”

“…That can’t be the type of thing that comes for free.” Mara frowned.

“We’ve discussed ways to cover it. A Goddess’ Tear, maybe, or I could enchant something.”

“That’s a lot of investment for something that isn’t for yourself, Corin. Are you sure?”

“Absolutely certain. Even if I don’t know about this whole ‘friend’ thing, you’re still Keras’ other apprentice, and that means something to me. You’d do the same kind of thing for me, wouldn’t you?”

“I would. Without a doubt. But Sera…” Mara shook her head. “Love that girl somethin’ fierce, but she’s not going to help me for free.”

“I…she didn’t say anything about charging you when I asked her if she thought we could talk to Suzaku.”

“Course not. Because I already know the one thing that she’s going to ask for, and the answer is ‘no’.”

I processed that. “…She asked you to be her retainer?”

“No, but she’s been dancin’ around it for ages. Waiting for the right time. There isn’t going to be one. I won’t do it. Not even…” She hesitated, uncertain.

I didn’t want her to get back into a bad mental state, so I quickly jumped in. “I’m sure she won’t need that. If you’re not interested in that kind of relationship with our house, that’s not a problem. If she needs payment, or a favor, I can pay it.”

“You’re sweet, but no. She won’t want a favor from you, Corin. You wouldn’t deny her anything either way. You work for free too much. We all see that.”

“…Okay, uh, that may be fair. But…if she requires something from you, maybe it could be different. I’m sure you could do her some other favor, once you’re healed.”

“If I’m healed.” She shook her head. “I’m not convinced this will work, nor that I’d like the cost. Did you have…other options?”

“I do, but you might not like them.”

She grimaced. “Lay them out anyway.”

I did, very literally, once again breaking out my map. Then, I pointed at a particular spot. There was nothing special actually shown there, but when her eyes narrowed for a moment, I could see she understood.

“…The Spirit Gateway Shrine.”

During the first part of our train ride to Caelford, Keras had told us about when he’d first arrived on Kaldwyn — and where. And from there, he’d told us about his journey, and described the path from the Whispering Woods all the way to the location of an ancient shrine containing one of Kaldwyn’s Gateway Crystals. In his case, he’d sought it out to find an amulet connected to Dawnbringer, but the crystal had offered other possible boons.

“If you chose a Crystal Mark of Spirit as a reward for completing the shrine’s challenges, you might be able to fix your own spirit damage eventually through the use of spirit magic — or perhaps even Artinian spirit arts. But if the damage is to your shade, rather than your spirit, or both…”

“It might not be enough.” She nodded in understanding. “But I could also ask the crystal to heal me directly as a boon.”

“Absolutely. And…I was thinking…you might not need to go through the challenges at all. We could ask Len—”

Mara winced. “You don’t think I could handle the shrine…? You’re probably right, I’m useless now. I…”

“No, no!” I waved my hand frantically. “It’s not that, this is just me doing the thing I do where I try to work around a problem instead of through it. Like I do with everything. It has nothing to do with you. I might ask Len for myself, too.”

She still looked tense, but that seemed to help her settle a bit, at least. “…I s’pose that is how you tend to do things. Guess you can ask her for that, if you want to. You know ‘er. I wouldn’t feel right.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind asking on your behalf. And Keras spent a boon to save her life. Given what she owes him—”

“No.” Mara looked at me sternly. “We are not playing that angle with her.”

“Okay, got it. Noted. Backing off on that.” I took a breath. “So, let’s say we just went through the shrine ourselves. We’re not limited to doing it solo, I don’t think — I can check on how that’s supposed to work, but even Keras went through with Reika and Dawn accompanying him — and we aren’t there to earn a medallion. So, maybe we could just build a strong team and each earn a boon. It’d be a good use of our time. I’d like to see if the crystal can help improve my spirit magic, or maybe help me sort out what happened to Thorn. And a powerful and ancient sentient gateway to the spirit plane…I can’t think of a much better healer for you and Sera.”

“Aside from maybe the shade crystal, which might be a better fix.”

“Right.” I nodded. “I thought about that, too. The shade crystal presents a couple potential options. First, the shade crystal might be able to fix things by itself, if most of the damage is shade-side.”

“That does sound ideal. But I take it that if the damage is more widespread, it might not work?”

I nodded. “Right. In those cases, I know of two options. The first thing to ask for would be a crystal mark, similar to my transcendence mark. That would give you access to shade mana directly, which you could use to fix the shade part of the problem. At least in theory.”

“And the other?” she asked.

“A shade weave. It’s something I learned about in Alternate Mana Sources class. They’re basically ways to force the shade into a specific configuration, typically by bonding mana to a part of the shade. Advanced essence sorcerers on Dania use them for all sorts of weird stuff, like growing claws or gills, or just improving existing physical traits.”

She blinked. “That sounds pretty perfect. Why aren’t we just going for that?”

“Shade weaves need to be connected to a Dianis Point to work. And in your case…”

She sighed. “The appropriate Dianis Point would have been in my hand, which is gone. Right. Could…the shrine rebuild the Dianis Point?”

“Probably not. But we should keep it in mind as a tertiary option if all else fails. That said, we have a bigger problem.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“I can’t find the location for it in any of my books. I could do more research on it during the Emerald Council, though, or ask people there for information.”

“…Oh. I suppose you could. But don’t ask for favors on my behalf. At least, not before asking me first?”

I nodded. “That’s fine. Another thought, though — we might not need any outside help, as long as I can find the right documentation, or some people with other attunements to look at.”

Mara crossed her arms. “You’re not going to turn me into one of your magical experiments, are you?”

“Only if you want me to. And it’s not too far from what I’ve already done.”

“What are you thinking?” Mara gave me a skeptical look.

“If I can find people with the right attunements to copy off of, I could potentially store memories of what their attunement functions look like. Specifically, the functions for granting spirit and shade mana. I might actually be able to cobble something together for spirit mana right now, since I have items that use it, but the sub-glyphs my items use aren’t identical to the formatting for attunements, so…it’d take time, and it might be error-prone. It’s possible they don’t actually use the same types of spirit mana, since subtypes exist. I wouldn’t want to—”

“I get it. Basically, you copy the sub-glyphs off of a Soulblade or a Conjurer, then…put those in my Guardian attunement?”

“That’s the idea, yeah. Obviously, there are risks—”

“It’s fine,” she said immediately.

I stared for a moment. I’d expected that one to take a little more convincing. “Really?”

“I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? You kill me? I’ve known that might happen since you started playing with enchanting magic swords in the house.”

“Hey, I haven’t blown up the house once!” I paused, considering. “Unless you count retreating to the house while being pursued, which was eminently reasonable, and Elora is the one who teleported us, and—”

“Corin. It’s fine. Allow me a little bit of dark humor, yeah? I trust you. And…as much as I don’t want to ask for help in general, I’m much happier to let you do something like that than to ask favors from a stranger. Making a change like that only takes seconds of effort for you, yeah? Like flipping a switch?”

“It’s…not quite that easy. I mean, the eventual resulting part is, but it does take a little bit of research time first. Basically, I’d need to be able to look at someone’s attunement, find the relevant part, then have Researcher help me make a memory crystal. Once I have the memory, yeah, it’s trivial. I basically look at your attunement’s sub-glyphs and add a section at each level we want that contains a new mana type. If you want, I can make a new level for it, so we can turn it off at any point if it’s unsafe, or I could throw on a timer, or…”

“We can work on the logistics later. But…you’d still need outside help, yeah? To get someone to let you look at their attunement?”

“Maybe. Not necessarily.” I needed to be careful here, given that she didn’t want me to pull any favors for her. “Constantine might have books that I haven’t seen yet with the specific mana compositions I need. Or, more likely, Len might just be able to tell me without any looking at attunements needed. Yes, that would require some degree of interaction with other people, but it’s zero trouble. And I absolutely would want this information for myself regardless of if you need it. I’d be thrilled to build spirit mana into my own attunement, too.”

“Doesn’t your gauntlet already do that?”

“Sort of. Like I said earlier, I don’t know if attunements use the same composition my gauntlet does, and the functions don’t quite work the same way. I could use my gauntlet as a foundation for building a new attunement function, but it would require some extrapolation work. I might do it if I can’t get the right info elsewhere, but I don’t see any reason to redo work others have already completed, especially when my own work may end up being imperfect.”

“That’s surprising, given how much you tend to overcomplicate simple tasks.”

I snorted. “You’re not wrong, but in this case, my paranoia about making mistakes is more important than my instinct to overcomplicate things.”

“Heh. At least you’re learning. Okay.” She exhaled a deep breath. “I…think I could be okay with what you’re talking about. You’ve…put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you?”

I tried not to look too embarrassed. “I…might not have stopped thinking about it. It’s hard to stop thinking about, well, anything, once I have something on my mind.”

“Yeah…that sounds like you. Okay.” She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve again, but she seemed more focused now. “I’ll try your attunement tweaks if you think they’d help, but I doubt that’ll solve things directly. Be a long time before I could heal myself with magic I don’t understand. But…I can’t say I hate the idea of earning my own healing from a shrine. Or…if I can’t repair my hand…” She extended her right arm outward, then I saw a shimmer in her aura, shifting to form the familiar form of a blade — then contracting into a ball shape. “Can’t do fingers yet. But maybe…with the right kind of magic…I might be able to grab my victory in another way.”

Chapter V – Workarounds

There was a considerable problem with what I’d just offered to do for Mara — but one that I fully intended to solve.

In order to be able to look at someone else’s attunement, I needed mental mana. And in order to make changes to Mara’s attunement, I needed core functions of both of my attunements. At the moment, I’d been told to avoid using my Enchanter attunement for a while…meaning both of those tasks were, at present, impossible to do safely.

…But what about mildly unsafely?

I didn’t like the idea of breaking my mind. I did, however, like the idea of finding reasonable alternatives to six months of feeling entirely useless.

To that end, I checked in with Sera, then I tracked Researcher down. Mundanely, unfortunately, given that my current lack of mental mana also meant I couldn’t actually cast tracking spells. Fortunately, Sera was able to point me to the right direction — a lounge car, where Researcher was reading a book.

“Can I sit down?”

Researcher looked up at me, startled. “Arbiter Cadence. I see no reason why you would currently lack that capability. Would you like me to perform any tests?”

“Ah, no. Let me rephrase — do you mind if I sit with you to ask you some questions?”

“Oh, pardon my misunderstanding. I would be more than pleased to provide what assistance to you I can, Arbiter. I have no objections to either of your inquiries.”

I nodded and took a seat across from her. “Thank you.” I almost asked a basic small talk question, then realized that in this rare case, it was absolutely unnecessary to either of us. Instead, I asked something I was legitimately curious about. “Why are you reading a book? Can’t you just…like, absorb the contents in an instant?”

“I can parse the contents of a book through a simple spell, yes. That, however, is not nearly so enjoyable of an experience.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense. What are you…?”

She closed her book to show me the cover. Dragon’s Damsel 7: The Damsel’s Destiny.

“…You enjoy that sort of thing?” I asked.

“I enjoy reading all forms of human-generated literature. I find that they contribute to my understanding to the human perspective. Biases, hopes, dreams, desires…it is fascinating to me how they manifest in fictional form. This particular manuscript does excellent work of showcasing human mating dynamics, especially with extreme power differentials. As one reviewer stated—”

I put my hands up. “I, uh, would rather not hear about mating dynamics.”

“Ah. Please forgive me, Arbiter. I had not adequately processed your disinclination toward sexual content. Please forgive my error in this regard.”

“No, you’re fine. I asked. Thank you for answering.” I paused, thinking. “I’m pretty sure I was here to ask you about something else.”

“I would postulate that would likely be the case, given that you were not aware that I was reading until after you had approached, upon which you indicated surprise and made your query. Perhaps you required my services in some other capacity?”

“I…oh! Yes. Mental mana.” I snapped my fingers. “I need your help with that.”

“That is a very open-ended statement. You already possess an attunement capable of generating mental mana. Please clarify your request.”

“Right, sorry. Not thinking very clearly right now. Which is…admittedly, part of why I’m here. As you probably have already heard, I overused my Enchanter attunement during my last fight.” I glanced around, not seeing anyone else nearby, but not wanting to take too many risks. “Please do not talk about the specific nature of that fight while we are in public, by the way. I am not ready to disclose who we were fighting.”

“Understood. My Summoner has already provided me with this instruction, however, I will consider this instruction to come from you as well.”

That made wonder if my authority with her exceeded Sera’s in some way, but that wasn’t the type of thing I needed to get side-tracked with at the moment. “Right. So, basically, I can’t use my Enchanter attunement safely. I was wondering if you could cast some mental mana spells for me in order to help improve my situation?”

“Of course, Arbiter. What were you thinking?”

“Firstly, the formation of a few memory crystals at certain points would be useful. But beyond that…I might need your help with something more complicated. For that, we would need to discuss things in private, and I would want your assessment of whether or not my plan is safe.”

“Of course, Arbiter. I am pleased to assist you with your plans, which, based on all available data, I can already evaluate have a high probability of being unsafe.”

“…I haven’t even told you what the plans are yet.”

“That is correct, Arbiter. However, given that the plans are constructed by Arbiter Corin Cadence, I can estimate a 97.4% chance that they are unsafe.”

“Are you…making fun of me?”

Researcher smiled. “Of course not, Arbiter. I am merely emulating the style of conversation utilized by the protagonists of this renowned, human-written fantasy series. Has this been a satisfactory rendition of human communication?”

“…You know what, it wasn’t bad.” I sighed. “Can I drag you away from your book a little longer to talk about this more in private?”

“Of course, Arbiter. If this was a Dragon’s Damsel novel, I would expect that such an invitation would have a romantic element, but given that it is not, I can only presume that you intend to take me to an area you have already secured with anti-divination measures.”

“…You’re still making fun of me.”

“If that is your assessment of my behavior, how would you rate my effectiveness at ‘making fun of you’?”

“Ten out of ten, Researcher. Ten out of ten.”

***

When we got back to my room — which was very definitely just for making use of the added security — we sat down for me to explain my slightly-but-not-97%-deadly plan. I ran her through the basics, which she parsed easily.

“I understand. You want me to cast the basic mental mana spells that would enable you to look at your own attunements, which would allow you to visualize them without technically using your own mental mana. Then, you would copy the functions that allow for generating and converting mental mana, as well as the entire suite of ‘enchanting’ functions, from your Enchanter attunement into a new level for your Arbiter attunement. This would, in effect, allow you to turn your Arbiter attunement into a hybrid Arbiter/Enchanter attunement temporarily, while in this specific attunement level. Would you like for me to evaluate the dangers of this plan?”

I sighed. I’d already thought about this, but I waved for her to continue. “Yes.”

“There are four critical points of danger in my evaluation. First, the usage of any form of mental mana may cause your problems to get worse, even if the mental mana is provided by an external source. I would agree with your underlying assessment that the risk level of doing this is lower than if you were to cast the spells yourself, however, and the mental strain of using the Analyze Attunement Composition in itself is relatively low. That being said, historically, you have almost always worked on your attunement with Accelerated Computation active. Given your current state, I would advise you against using those mental mana spells simultaneously, as the combination of the two spell effects would radically change your processing speed and functionality. I would expect the risks of combining those two effects at the moment to be significant, even if you are provided the mana from an external source.”

I grunted. I’d considered that running multiple spells at the same time was a higher risk, but not specifically how those two spells would interact.

That was going to slow down any possible progress significantly, but I couldn’t risk it.

I was already uncomfortably close to the situation my great grandfather, Alaric Cadence, had been in the last years of his life. He’d pushed his mental mana too far, apparently, and his mental facilities had deteriorated. I still didn’t know exactly how he’d died — Mother had been vague on that, and Father hadn’t talked to me about it at all — but Mother had told me stories about how he’d sometimes been unable to recognize his own children toward the end of his life.

It was terrifying, coming as close to that as I already had. I wasn’t going to let the fear stop me like it might have early on in my career as an Enchanter, but I wasn’t going to abandon caution, either.

I’d take the problems Researcher mentioned seriously, but she’d only listed two problems so far. I had a guess at the others, but I wasn’t sure.

“Go on.”

“Presuming that you are able to view your attunements successfully, this does not enable you to make changes without drawing directly from both Enchanter and Arbiter functions. You are clearly aware of this, as you intend to copy your Enchanter functions to your Arbiter attunement in order to allow for future work. This means that it is, unfortunately, necessary for you to utilize your Enchanter attunement for a bare minimum of one step — the step that allows you to copy the Enchanter attunement functions themselves to the new attunement level for your Arbiter attunement.”

I had anticipated that one. “Understood. What is your risk assessment for that?”

“Unknown. My experience in medical diagnostics is, unfortunately, not as sophisticated as Doctor Theas.”

I blinked at hearing Sheridan referred to as a doctor. That…absolutely made sense, they literally worked as a healer in a hospital much of the time, but I didn’t know if I’d ever heard that title used before. Maybe I had, and I was just forgetting? My mind…wasn’t very clear at the moment.

“…Okay. Understood. I’ll consider that an unknown risk. What’s the fourth problem?”

“It is unknown what the interactions would be between the baseline Enchanter and Arbiter functions if they are held within the same attunement. My estimates indicate that the chances of this causing a critical attunement failure are low, given that the attunements already share two mana types and have no direct conflicts. That being said, if your body is incapable of supporting the necessary functions, your attunement may shut down.”

I nodded. “I intended to mitigate that risk by creating a custom attunement level that flips immediately back to standard Arbiter functionality if certain safety thresholds are exceeded.”

“That is a wise decision for mitigating this particular risk, Arbiter. It does, however, expand the risk of causing problems by using Enchanter functionality from your Enchanter attunement before moving that functionality to your new Arbiter attunement, as that would be a pre-requisite step.”

I winced. She was right, of course. And of the two, using my Enchanter attunement was actually more immediately dangerous…but long-term, having my Arbiter attunement disabled was crippling. I’d have to put in the new level first, I couldn’t risk losing the one functional attunement I still had.

“…Okay. Hm.” I pondered for a moment if someone else could make these changes for me, but there wasn’t any safe way of doing that, either. I’d need another Arbiter/Enchanter, and the only one I knew was Warren Constantine — who had deliberately destroyed his own attunements. A dual-attuned Biomancer/Enchanter could have probably done it, too, but that would mean giving access to my Arbiter attunement to a Biomancer, which was basically letting Farren win. Unless I could find an unaffiliated Biomancer/Enchanter, of course, but that was unlikely. And I wasn’t going to find one I trusted enough to mess with my attunements in six months.

I exhaled a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll think about all this. What about fixing the damage I’ve suffered faster? Any ideas?”

“Regrettably, the only available tool I am aware of that might help address your issues would be a Goddess’ Tear. And as you are aware, Arbiter, these are a rare blessing.”

I thought I heard a hint of chastisement in that, or perhaps warning. She clearly didn’t approve of the idea of me using a tear to try to fix a temporary problem like this.

“Do you think I’m being too impatient? Should I just wait for this to resolve itself?”

“I cannot answer that question, Arbiter, as I am not aware of all of the pertinent data necessary to extrapolate possible outcomes.”

That was fair. I wasn’t, either. Not really.

I exhaled another deep breath. “…You’ve read a bunch of books, and parsed a bunch of the ones in Constantine’s library. How much do you know about spirit Arts?”

“Regrettably, Arbiter, most details about the functionality of spirit arts are considered forbidden knowledge. I can provide you with a brief overview, but it would be redundant with what you already know. Would you like for me to send an inquiry to request access to more detailed information?”

I pondered that. Doing any kind of information request could get us unwanted attention…

But honestly? This was a pretty innocuous-sounding topic for “forbidden knowledge”. And I was an Arbiter. That had to be worth something — maybe it was about time I started taking that more seriously.

“Yes,” I said. “I think I would.”

Researcher closed her eyes. “Very well, Arbiter. Processing.” Her eyes fluttered open. “Your request has been submitted. Please be advised that responses may be delayed due to spire conditions.”

“…Wait. Hold on. Does that mean you can actually get messages into the Serpent Spire right now?”

Researcher flinched. “That, is, unfortunately, currently restricted information. Would you like for me to send an inquiry to request access to this information?”

“…What’s the distinction between forbidden knowledge and restricted information?”

“Forbidden knowledge is a topic that is permanently considered ‘forbidden’ to disseminate information about without express permission from the an appropriate-level authority, typically a visage. Restricted information is similar, but the limitations on information distribution are temporary, rather than permanent.”

“…Don’t send a request for information about the spire thing. Do, however, inform me if that information becomes unrestricted in the future. Also, please inform me as soon as you get a reply on my first request.”

Researcher seemed to relax. Apparently, I’d handled that situation in a way that was satisfactory. “Of course, Arbiter. Will there be anything else?”

“Yeah, one last thing. I’d like you to make me some memory crystals right now. Then, if it’s possible, I’d like us to make some security modifications to some crystals.”

“What sort of memory crystals would you like to make, Arbiter?”

I took a breath, then rested my fingers on Selys-Lyann’s grip. “Memories of when I was possessed by my sword.”

***

Days passed as the train rolled on toward the mid-point of the Unclaimed Lands, where we planned to disembark at a Haven Securities refueling facility. At that point, the plan was to make our way north from the facility through the Unclaimed Lands to the expedition town of Pending, and from there, just a bit further north to Warren Constantine’s tower.

Every day I waited made it marginally safer…and gave me a little more time to practice something to make it less likely to destroy my mind.

Spirit Art: Rapid Recovery, I told myself, drawing on my connection with Selys-Lyann and the Null-Contract Gauntlet to provide myself with the necessary spirit mana, and adding in some of my own mana from my Arbiter attunement to supplement it.

…It didn’t quite work. Not yet. I felt a soothing sensation flood through me, but I was trying to emulate Thorn’s technique through how it felt in my memories, and a thread of his consciousness that bled into my own. His understanding of that specific technique was near-instinctual — it had to have been something that he’d practiced a thousand times — and as such, he didn’t guide the magic consciously enough for me to emulate it properly.

I also got the impression that whatever he was doing wasn’t exactly a “typical” spirit art. More like he was using the sword’s spirit mana and my own to emulate something he’d been able to do during his life. Or…lives, really, given that Thorn was an amalgamation of multiple entities. Either way, what he was doing was an approximation of a true spirit art, but not identical to one.

Researcher had been able to make sophisticated memory crystals containing fragments of my thoughts — or Thorn’s thoughts — from the fight. We’d also made some from the other parts of the fight, and as I’d requested, added some security modifications — things that could lock access to the crystals or break them with certain voice commands. We took that time to add some security enchantments to the ones in Keras’ box, too, just in case we needed that extra layer of defense for them.

Unfortunately, even with her assistance, it wasn’t possible to capture the level of detail that I needed to reverse engineer the techniques that Thorn had used. The thoughts gathered in the crystals were surface-level, without any of the underlying background information necessary to comprehend the process. Maybe that was because the Dominion of Memory simply didn’t have all of that information, or maybe it was just a limitation on how the spell to make memory crystals worked — I wasn’t sure.

I supplemented that basic knowledge with everything I could find from my books, as well as what Sera knew from her own studies of spirit magic in the context of summoning — but it still wasn’t quite enough to make a fully-functional technique.

I tried to throw something together by blending what I could understand from Thorn’s usage of the technique with a Regeneration spell, since that was something my own Arbiter attunement could still provide.

In the end, I probably had made something closer to a spirit-aligned Regeneration spell than a true spirit art. It was doing something, and Researcher was able to observe and confirm that it was interacting with my spirit, but she lacked the expertise to determine if it was actually healing any damage in the way that Thorn’s spirit art had.

…I found myself wishing that Sheridan was there. And not just because of their medical expertise, though that was absolutely a part of it.

In Sheridan’s absence, I contacted Elora, who put me in touch with a Citrine-level Mender. Said Mender was frankly horrified at my condition, but said that they thought I was probably helping it with my “weird and hugely dangerous experimental healing idea”, so I took that as a sign that it was time to move forward with the next phase of my plan.

I didn’t want to break my mind. I was terrified.

But I had two days left before we were set to get off the train, and if anything scared me more than causing myself mental harm, it was politics.

I wasn’t going to deal with that without preparing every weapon at my disposal.

***

“Are you certain you wish to proceed with this exercise, Arbiter?” Researcher asked.

“Not really,” I told her. “What do you estimate our chances of success are?”

“I cannot assign a chance of success value to this activity for two reasons. One, I do not have sufficient data about the level of damage you have sustained. Two, the potential results are broader than the binary outcomes of ‘success’ or ‘failure’. There are many potential levels of failure, including but not limited to—”

“I get it, thank you.” I exhaled a breath.

Was it really worth risking my mind further just to give myself the ability to work on more projects?

My answer to that, unfortunately, was unequivocally “yes”. Not because I felt like the risk vs. reward payoff was worth it, but because I was absolutely dying of impatience.

“Let’s do it.”

I’ll spare you an explicit description of my panic throughout the process. The activity itself was simple, although much slower than I would have liked, given that Researcher was adamant that I should not use Accelerated Computation in the process. Fortunately, it wasn’t nearly as necessary as it would have been if I was actually making new functions or other significant changes — since I was just copying functions from place to place, I didn’t really need any kind of mental enhancement to do that.

It was uncomfortably close to what I’d done to my father. The main difference is that I was simply copying extra information to my attunement, rather than overwriting the existing functions with new ones. In theory, that actually made it even simpler, but it was still absolutely terrifying. Any mistake meant I could destroy my attunement or worse.

Here we go.

Analyze Attunement Composition.

And…

I focused on the right sections of my Enchanter attunement immediately, checking and double checking in a way that I hadn’t when I’d destroyed Father’s power. The only way I’d been able to attack him as quickly as I did was by completely avoiding any sort of analysis — for him, I’d just copied information from my attunement and used it to replace the sub-glyphs that were already there.

In his case, I’d been willing to take the risk that I’d do something even worse than I’d intended by sacrificing safety for speed. Nothing else had been a viable option — I had a matter of moments while our hands were touching to make the spell happen.

For this process, I was back to spending minutes checking the sub-glyphs. Not enough time to read entire segments in any detail, of course. Basically, I was checking the first and last lines of every individual function to make sure I was getting everything I needed and nothing superfluous.

The mental image remained simple — I saw myself lifting pages of text from various stacks that represented different functions of the Enchanter attunement, finding the right ones, and then snapping my fingers with my off hand to create a copy of that whole section. Once I had the copied section, I mentally set it aside on an empty “table”, to prepare it. When I had all the copies I needed, I moved them over to a second table representing my Arbiter attunement.

And…that was that.

I opened my eyes and took several deep, steadying breaths.

Test one.

I called a bit of transference mana through my Arbiter attunement, just enough to lift an actual piece of paper. It worked.

I hadn’t destroyed my attunement entirely.

Another deep, steadying breath.

Then, I continued the tests, verifying each basic Arbiter function one at a time.

Then…from there, the real test.

Detect Aura.

My eyes flashed as new light appeared everywhere in the room — from a mental spell that had been conjured not from my Enchanter attunement, but from my right hand.

I inspected the aura colors, expecting that something would go wildly wrong. Even if it was working, what if I’d skewed the output somehow?

Ultimately, there was no discernable difference in functionality — at least on a first test.

It had worked. I won’t say it was simple, but…it somehow felt too easy.

I…didn’t even have a headache.

The amount of actual use for my Enchanter attunement needed was so minimal — maybe a point or two worth of mana, if that — that I barely even noticed it. But, when a doctor says, “don’t do this thing right after surgery,”, they generally don’t mean, “only do it a little”, so it was still a risk…just an unquantifiable level of risk.

In the end, I didn’t have any obvious side effects. I panicked for a long time that I might have caused myself so much damage that I couldn’t perceive the harm I’d caused, but ultimately, I knew I’d just have to wait until I had an expert to check on me before I could know for sure.

I’ll save you from my nervousness — it worked out fine.

Anyway, now that I’d taken my first steps toward being a functional sort-of Enchanter again, I had a lot of work to catch up on. It was time to see what my newly-forged dual-attunement could do.

***

In spite of how dramatic that last statement was, I didn’t start out by making anything crazy or impressive. It was, in fact, surprisingly literal.

Analyze Attunement Composition.

I pulled the mental mana from my Arbiter attunement, just as I had with Detect Aura. Then, I began to read.

I’d been doing a considerable amount of book reading on the train, but there was no substitute for studying sub-glyphs directly — and there were a couple things I needed to confirm before I walked into the Emerald Council.

First and most importantly, I needed to know how vulnerable I was.

I’d defeated my father in a duel near-instantly by overwriting his attunement sub-glyphs with Enchanter ones. It had been absurdly easy. Making an extra function to allow his older mana to vent was a bit of extra time to prepare before the fight, just to ensure my trick didn’t kill him by accident, but that wasn’t actually hard, just time consuming. Really, the hardest part had been the social engineering side to get him to accept the dueling criteria. Starting in physical contact was critical.

Getting his “consent” to do anything I wanted in the battle was…maybe critical, maybe not. I still wasn’t sure.

I didn’t know if anyone had used the same strategy I’d used in that duel in the past, but if they had, it hadn’t been widespread enough public knowledge that I’d heard about it. A young Arbiter and Enchanter defeating a semi-famous Shaper, though? That would raise questions. And there had been witnesses that hadn’t been strictly sworn to secrecy.

I didn’t know exactly how much my uncle understood about the exchange. We didn’t discuss it. Roland had worked with me enough during the school year enough to pick up on it, though, especially since he was a Diviner. If he understood and told that story to anyone, even if it was just his own family, they could spread that information further.

And, of course, Sheridan Theas had been there. At a minimum, Deni would have recorded the official results of the duel. Questions would be asked.

How much would Sheridan tell people?

Sera had set up most of the social engineering side of preparation for the duel — misleading my father into lowering his guard and all that. It worked perfectly.

When it was done, I’d moved on. Maybe she’d done things to keep people quiet afterward, but I hadn’t asked. I hadn’t wanted to know.

That was, of course, a huge oversight on my part. A potentially critical classic Corin Cadence weakness.

If my technique was publicly known, other people could reproduce it. They could figure out how to use it against me. Or worse — they could figure out that what I’d done by offensively modifying an attunement wasn’t the maximum extent of it.

They could potentially do what Warren Constantine had feared and, for example, turn an attunement into a brand, then detonate it on the spot.

I had a tendency to design my strategies and tools as responses to enemy action. In this case, that was unacceptable. If I failed to take action on something this critical there would be no response. I’d be done as an attuned.

Asking Sera more about the social side of things would be important, but it wasn’t the first step.

The first step was digging deep into my Arbiter attunement’s restricted functions and figuring out what, exactly, “consent” meant in the context of using it on someone.

The difficulty wasn’t finding the right glyph section. I’d done that before the duel, during my preparatory process. The problem was that I hadn’t been able to find all the relevant sub-glyphs in my borrowed books. I couldn’t actually read the whole thing.

I’d found more of the glyphs during my time on the train, but not all of them. Days of downtime without much work to do had, however, given me the chance to do something else — something I wouldn’t have ordinarily considered.

I had, with a significant amount of Researcher’s help and guidance, created a prototype for a new spell.

Spell research could be very straightforward or very complex, depending on the desired result. The simplest forms of spell research were iteration; taking an existing spell and modifying it in some way. A very minor alteration would be something like taking Lesser Regeneration or Haste and extrapolating it into a higher-level version.

The next layer of complexity was making a larger alteration, like trying to change one of the parameters of how an existing spell functioned. This might involve changing the exact composition of the mana involved toward a different purpose. When I used mental mana for Detect Aura, it wasn’t the exact same composition as what I used for Identify, nor was it applied in the same way. Modifying Detect Aura to use something closer to Identify’s mana composition would create a different effect. I’d actually tinkered with that, hoping to identify magical items at a glance, but it didn’t actually work that way. There wasn’t enough data in my sight to provide information Identify could parse, and therefore, the spell didn’t do anything useful. A more complex visually based identification spell was possible, but I’d never gotten one to work.

A related process was modifying a spell by changing the mana types more significantly, like adding a whole new mana type or subtracting one, in order to get a slightly different result. A common application for this was modifying an attack spell slightly to either augment it or make it deal a different type of damage. Change your fire blast into a blast of light, that sort of thing. I’d done something similar for creating my transcendent variants of each of my spells.

You could also bolt a couple entire spells onto each other, like my Spirit Tracking Analytical Arrow. Simple enough in concept, but testing was usually required to figure out if they actually worked properly.

Finally, there was creating something entirely new. I hadn’t done much of that myself yet, unless one counted creating new attunement functions. I’d done a fair bit of that, and it was actually easier in some respects than casting a new spell, since I could do the math at my own speed and then put the exact mana values straight into sub-glyphs, rather than having to remember exact mana compositions when casting something.

My spell research project was a combination of a few of the approaches I’d done in the past.

Analyze Attunement Composition let me see sub-glyphs, but didn’t translate them for me. I had, however, proven capable of casting spells while looking at my sub-glyphs already — it was a necessary process for being able to copy them from one place to another.

I’d tried a standard Identify spell to figure out what a sub-glyph did. It worked on some glyphs, but not all of them. After a bit of tinkering, I figured out that it appeared to only spit out information if I used it on sub-glyphs that directly referenced mana types in some way.

During my downtime, I’d found a solution.

When I’d first visited Warren Constantine, Len had taught me two spells I hadn’t had much use for yet — Identify Spirit Glyph Capacity and Identify Spirit Glyph Function. I’d used them on the Jaden Box, but without other Artinian items to play with, I hadn’t thought about them much.

Trying to use one on a sub-glyph would get me nonsense results. To give you a comparison, it was sort of like they were a translation key, but for the wrong language. That wasn’t useful on its own, but when combined with a spell that was actually designed for subglyphs…that got me exactly what I needed.

I picked one I already understood first, just to test it.

Identify Sub-Glyph Function.

[n% mana.]

Excellent.

I ran through several more, not a single success to give me false confidence…then I got to the segment I really needed to read.

Sub-glyphs didn’t use the same grammatical structure as Valian, so giving you a direct reading of it wouldn’t make a lot of sense. But in summary, I was able to search through the relevant functions in the main attunement segments and the restricted ones to find a few critical pieces of information.

First, the general Arbiter segment for attunement modification said something along the lines of:

[Run function: Detect Hostile Intent. Target: Self. Allocate result: Temporary Test Storage (current value)+1.]

[Reference result from Temporary Test Storage (most recent value).]

[If pass, go to function: main.]

[If fail, go to function: transfer fail state 4.]

[Else, go to function: unspecified error.]

[Clear referenced result from Temporary Test Storage.]

In summary, whenever an Arbiter attempted to tinker with a target’s attunement, the attunement itself was running some sort of internal function to determine if it was intended to be harmful. Upon digging into that, I determined that it was a simple mental mana effect to read the Arbiter’s own surface thoughts to determine if they were in a state where harm was intended to the target of the effect.

This was, to be blunt, an extremely error-prone strategy with a number of possible fail states and workarounds.

No actual “consent” was required — there was no check about the target’s opinion on the subject. That was, as far as I could tell, either a pure fabrication, or perhaps a very loose interpretation of the hostility detection function.

Even with just that information, I had several ways of getting around it. Figuring out how to alter my mental state to not trigger the hostility detection was potentially doable, but unreliable. The easiest thing would be to just…take out the whole hostility check.

And, as it turned out, the restricted functions did exactly that.

At Citrine-level, a new hidden function in the attunement changed the core functionality of the attunement to bypass the hostility check. Basically, any Citrine-level or higher Arbiter had no restrictions on modifying the attunements of others.

That was a little terrifying in itself, but it wasn’t the worst thing I found.

Now that I was able to rapidly parse through unfamiliar sub-glyphs, I went through a whole bunch of other sections, some out of curiosity, some out of fear.

I found what I was looking for quickly enough.

[Subsection: Administrator Override, Visage.]

[Activation methods: Detect stored composition, detect stored command phrase.]

[Valid commands: Disable. Revert to brand. Terminate user.]

My fists clenched.

Warren was right.

They really could just…kill us at any time.

All a visage had to do was interact with an attunement with their own mana…or, even easier, to say a phrase.

Wait. Is it looking for a specific voice for that command phrase?

The answer was, horrifyingly enough, “no”.

Resh…That’s…really bad. How complex are these phrases? Could someone just…get access to your attunement by accident?

I dug into my own attunements.

My Enchanter attunement surprised me. There was no override command phrase built into it. When I first looked at it and found a blank line, I wondered if I’d made a mistake or my spell simply couldn’t find the relevant information.

When I got to my Arbiter attunement, I changed my mind.

It wasn’t a simple phrase. Not something your average person would say in casual conversation.

But it absolutely seemed like the type of thing a visage might say, if they’d planned for the possibility of taking my attunement away — or just killing me with a spoken phrase — at an unspecified point in the future.

I scowled.

Warren was right. We’d been sabotaged from the start.

But I wouldn’t burn out my attunements like he did. That was unacceptable.

I dug deeper and deeper until I was confident that I understood. I couldn’t check with Researcher on this. Not when I was directly opposing a visage’s work.

For this one occasion, I’d have to trust only my own mind.

It was terrifying, but leaving things alone was worse.

I found all the linked functions and worked backward, organizing papers in my mental framework.

And then, once I had the ones I needed, I pictured Keras’ disintegrating aura in my mind and reached out, burning those functions to dust.

I couldn’t be sure that even that would be enough, but it was a start.

And with that destruction, I could begin, once again, to create.

[Subsection: Administrator Override, Corin Cadence.]

[Additional attunement anti-tampering function: Layer 1.]

I had a lot of work to do.

***

The next two days were almost entirely dedicated to working on security changes for my attunement. The next evening was doing the same for my friends, with their direct permission.

I didn’t make quite as extreme of changes for the others. Instead, I quickly checked if they had administrator override phrases built into their attunements.

Patrick didn’t.

Mara did.

I froze up a bit when I found that little tidbit. I thought of when and how it had happened, my fists tightening.

How long had he planned this?

I burned it away, adding my own layers of security, hoping they would be enough.

But if Mara’s was a slight surprise, Sera’s was far more so.

Her entire administrator access section for visages was missing.

Apparently, I wasn’t the first person who had this idea.

Someone else had gotten to her first.

And they’d written something else. One that tested the spirit of a person trying to read it. I didn’t realize what it was doing until I was in the middle of identifying it.

Someone — or something — had left me a note in my sister’s attunement functions.

If you have reached this point, you should know what the presence of this message means. All those with bonds can influence one another, sometimes without the recipient’s knowledge or consent.

Be cautious as you explore and do not advance before you are ready.

There will be a time when you must send a message in return.

I opened my eyes and pulled my hand away from Sera’s back.

I shivered.

My fingers were covered in frost.

***

There would be no further tinkering with Sera’s attunement in the days to come. I had several possible ideas of what the message meant, but in all cases, I thought it was best that I avoid any risk of breaking it.

I did, however, continue to study.

I hit a wall right away with one of my first goals — analyzing the functions of Sera’s attunement that made it an “Ascended” attunement. Those were restricted in a way that even a Citrine-level Arbiter attunement did not give me access to. I thought I could work around it. In fact, I found functions built into the attunement that appeared to be designed to let me bypass those restrictions. After seeing the message in the attunement, though, I was very cognizant of the fact that Sera’s attunement was altered in ways that could present problems, or even traps.

It wasn’t time to turn those keys. Not while I was barely functional. If I hit some sort of alarm system or other defense, I needed to be able to react quickly, which meant that I’d need to get back to full functionality with my attunements first.

So, I turned to simpler things. Other functions I could understand and access with significantly lesser risk.

I understood the basic functions of each of our attunements very well at this point, but there had been some things I hadn’t been able to easily read, largely in terms of attunement-specific features.

I read through the rest of those, debating which ones might be useful to copy to others. I could, with my new knowledge, give everyone in our group the ability to make magical contracts like a Summoner, if I provided them with the right mana types to do so.

That was tempting, but it would also be incredibly obvious.

Instead, I chose to dig into something subtler. Something more plausible on the surface, that wouldn’t let on that I was making massive modifications to our attunements:

Attunement Specializations.

I’d learned early on in Meltlake’s classes that attunements could change based on mana usage. Meltlake, for example, focused so heavily on fire magic that her attunement had developed a new line and additional functions to facilitate that.

Patrick was following her training routines to develop a specialization of his own, but for lightning, rather than fire. This was intended to be a years-long process. I knew it required using a certain mana type near-exclusively, but I didn’t understand the exact mechanics of why. Not until I looked directly at the inner workings of the attunement functions themselves.

[Initiate mana flow test.]

[Begin transference mana test. Save value present in DiP1 to temp variable…]

[Activate transference mana monitor on DiP1.]

[Activate transference mana flow from DiP0 to DiP1.]

[Initiate timer.]

[If transference mana value > saved temp variable, pause timer.]

[Save timer value to temporary variable (current +1)].

[Save transference mana value present in DiP1 to temporary variable (current +1].]

[Activate transference mana monitor on DiP2.]

[Resume test…]

Parsing through all of that, as well as a bunch of other sub-glyphs, I got the general idea.

There were periodic tests of how quickly specific mana types could flow through each of the star veins in the body, from Dianis Point to Dianis Point.

If a flow rate test successfully hit a threshold, other tests would run. Tests like checking the total mana composition in specific Dianis Points, in things called secondary essence structures, in the star veins themselves…there was a lot.

The quick summary of all of the above testing was that, if someone used enough of a mana type over a long enough period of time, they’d get their Dianis Points and star veins acclimated to that mana type enough that they’d trigger a function to activate an attunement specialization.

These requirements could be broken down into two critical components: acclimation and composition.

Acclimation required using the mana type a lot. It was the harder requirement to reach, and as far as I could tell, there was no easy way to cheat around it. People acclimated to a specific mana type the more they used it, but the body had a certain maximum acclimation rate that was split among every mana type they were using. This meant that, for example, an Elementalist who was using fire, lightning, and air mana would be splitting their acclimation rate among all three. They would eventually hit the acclimation requirements for a specialization with any or all of them, but at that point, they’d run into the composition requirement.

Composition was comparatively easier. Someone who used a specific mana type almost exclusively could skew their composition very quickly in a certain direction, but they wouldn’t develop an attunement specialization a few days after getting one and only casting one spell, since they still required the acclimation part of the requirement.

So, in order to get a specialization, you needed to use a specific mana type near-exclusively over a long period of time.

The functions themselves were impressive. There was a reason why Farren had pushed Cecily into getting one through her second Judgment, even if I didn’t approve of her method. Looking over several of the options, it was clear to me that specialization functions were potent enough that some of them could be considered comparable to an entire attunement level in value, but at a significant cost. Using any other type of mana would be much more challenging, as the attunement would begin to allocate the majority of the mana it stored toward a single mana type, and drawing from that mana pool for other types of spells would require converting it to the target type. That was both slow and inefficient.

Was it worth the cost? Meltlake seemed to think so, and she was one of the most powerful attuned I knew about.

I was less certain…but I did check my progress toward a transference specialization, just to see what it would take to get there.

I was closer than I expected.

Having transference mana with two different attunements and using it as frequently as I did meant that I had already almost met the acclimation requirement. That was unusual — normally it took someone about a full year of using a mana type near-exclusively — but my compounding effect from multiple sources of transference mana was apparently skewing my internal mana balance, too.

I was further off in terms of composition…and in ways that got more complicated.

Transference was the main mana type used in my body, but I had several others. I used mental mana the next most frequently, since I often used Detect Aura, Identify, Accelerated Computation, and even Analyze Attunement Composition.

I barely used other mana types directly, but I’d begun using transcendence mana to augment my spells, and that was a factor. I was experimenting with spirit mana more, too.

If I wasn’t an Arbiter, I expect that my mana composition balance would have skewed toward about 70% transference usage. That wouldn’t be enough to qualify for a transference specialization, but it would be close enough that such a goal would be achievable over a period of dedicated effort.

As an Arbiter, however, my Arbiter attunement erased my mana signature. And that meant that the grey mana generated by my body was, at present, perfectly balanced.

Grey mana was built from the twelve base mana types, or in Mythralian terms, the twelve prime dominions. Earth, air, fire, water, light, umbral, motion, enhancement, life, death, perception, and mental.

An ordinary attuned would have mana composition that gradually skewed toward the mana types they used most frequently. This is not to say that Meltlake, a fire specialist, would have grey mana that was 90% fire — the skew was never that extreme. My understanding was that the upper boundary of grey mana distribution was somewhere around twenty-four percent, after which it was considered a hybrid mana type, rather than grey mana, but different documentation had different answers on the exact number brackets.

Anyway, let’s say that Meltlake’s grey mana was around 24%. That left eleven other mana types and 76% between them, so a split of about 6.9% to each.

This is a bit of an oversimplification, since grey mana in the case of an attunement can also include compound mana types. Meltlake, for example, would have lightning included in her grey mana composition. Patrick would have it even more strongly represented. Your average attuned would only have the twelve base types in any significant amounts, though, since most people didn’t learn to use composite mana types directly.

In my case, however, no matter my mana usage, my Arbiter attunement was keeping my mana balanced. It would use a light mana-based function to burn out any excess mana of other types, and to block light mana from being absorbed from the environment if my current light mana exceeded the threshold. The result was that my grey mana was exactly the default split: all twelve mana types represented at 8.333% (repeating of course) of the composition of the grey mana in my attunements.

Composition tests did measure things other than the grey mana in attunements, as I mentioned. Testing my star veins would, however, get largely the same result. The only way to accurately test my mana usage was my “secondary mana,” which was something I didn’t fully understand, but I’d read about it a bit. Basically, secondary mana was the mana that classical dominion sorcerers used, rather than attuned. It built up naturally in the body as mana was used, and it was what was responsible for things like my permanent speed improvements from repeatedly casting Haste spells, or my memory and calculation improvements from casting mental spells all the time.

Unlike the mana used by my attunements, my secondary mana wasn’t altered by my Arbiter attunement. It wasn’t necessary to purify it, since my attunement didn’t transfer secondary mana or use it for spells. As a result, that meant that the pool was more representative of my actual spellcasting habits, and a better measurement of whether or not I’d be close to qualifying for a specialization.

Upon figuring all that out, I reverse engineered the function from the sub-glyphs themselves that analyzed secondary mana and worked it into a spell I could cast directly. Then, I cast it on myself.

Analyze Secondary Mana Composition.

The results spat out readings for sixty different mana types, so I’m not going to list them all out. The important part was that my transference composition was at around 15%. That was higher than it sounded, since it was competing with 59 other mana types, all of which apparently occurred naturally in the body to some degree or another, but mostly in very small quantities. Most of the base mana types were around 6 to 7%, with mental around 10%. Most of the composites were less than a quarter of a percentage point, with spirit and transcendence around 1%.

15% transference composition was almost enough to qualify for a specialization. My target for a transference-specialized Enchanter attunement was 18%. Unfortunately, that value was averaged between Dianis Point composition, star vein mana, and secondary mana, meaning my secondary mana would have to be vastly higher to compensate for the auto-balancing nature of my Arbiter attunement.

I’d never get there. Not manually, anyway. It simply wasn’t feasible.

But I’d looked at my mana already knowing that was likely to be the case — mostly, I wanted to know if I was close enough that I could maybe, possibly, just flip on a transference specialization safely.

Also, I was curious.

With that information, I had a couple options.

Rather than actually casting spells to change my mana balance organically, like how people normally would, I had the option of just…telling my attunements to generate whatever mana composition I wanted. This was ultimately very similar to what a specialization would do, anyway, and I could just copy those functions and start playing with them early.

That would, however, immediately limit my ability to use other types of mana.

There was a workaround that didn’t require that, though.

I was fully capable of just…turning on a specialization function, or even a component of it, without technically meeting the requirements.

If I activated a specialization function without the part that would skew my mana in a certain way, I could use the new features without changing my mana composition. The problem with that approach was that these features generally required a specific amount of mana of that type as a form of continuous upkeep, and if I didn’t skew my mana composition in the intended way, there was a risk that I wouldn’t actually have enough mana of the right type to power them…and then I’d drain all my mana until my attunements were unusable.

In order to figure out if that was likely to happen, I’d have to look at the individual functions in more detail…then do a bunch of mana conversion math.

Would it be worth all that work, and the risks?

To figure that out, it was finally time to look at what Attunement Specializations could actually do.

***

Over the next few hours, I looked at sub-glyphs for each and every attunement specialization that was available to me, parsing through sub-glyph text to figure out exactly how they worked. I’ll save you from having to listen to my exact thought process for each. I took notes. I’ll just give you the summary from those.

I went through my Enchanter attunement first, both because it was my first attunement and because I was curious exactly how Cecily’s specialization worked. If Farren had thought it was worth sending Cecily in for a second Judgment, it had to be valuable, right?

I hoped that was the case. Cecily had been badly hurt getting her specialization.

Enchanter Specialization Options

I found four “current” specialization options within the Enchanter attunement. I say “current” because, weirdly, there are a couple more that do not have any valid criteria for activation and are listed as “deprecated”. Which, I think means that they’re old functions that are disabled, but still exist? That’s weird. More on that later, but for now, writing down function stuff.

Mental first, since Cecily already has one.

Deep Diagnostics: Stores results from mental mana spells into an accessible “container” within the Enchanter attunement. This container can be accessed with a “Recall” function, similar to how a memory crystal works, but presenting the caster with a mental landscape to review the stored information. The information is kept in two formats: in base memory format (based on the Enchanter’s initial memories of the information from the spell) and copied into a readable text format. In both cases, further diagnostic spells can be used to analyze the stored information, and there are several analytical functions available, including “search”, “copy”, and “compare”.

Hm.

This sounds similar to what I’m doing with Analyze Attunement Composition to look at how attunement functions work, but instead of being for sub-glyphs, it’s basically outputting the results of every mental spell the person casts into a readable log. I can see how that might be useful, but is it really worth what Cecily went through?

I suppose things like “search” and “compare” features being built in might be more useful than I’m giving it credit for, especially if it’s used for parsing large amounts of data. If, for example, she’s checking through the secondary mana compositions of a hundred different people and looking for patterns…yeah, something like that having functions built in might be important.

And if it spits out information as readable text, that means none of the learning curve of reading sub-glyphs.

Huh.

I might need to copy this function at some point. What would the maintenance cost be?

Let’s see, it’s all mental mana, with an initial cost of 120 mana to create the initial container, that’s doable, and an upkeep cost of…yikes. With my mana composition, that’d translate to something like…another 48 mana per hour to maintain it.

Assuming Cecily’s attunement mana is skewed much more toward mental than mine, though, she’s probably only paying about…maybe somewhere between a third and half of that? That’s still a ton, but 24 mana is doable, even with her mana lower than mine.

I can’t afford to suppress 48 mana per hour for something that would be a marginal convenience. Not yet. Let’s move on.

Transference next.

Internal Power: Huh. Okay, another container-style one in a sense, but very different.

This function is designed to let you use your own mana to power an item directly. You link to an item with something that seems like my mana threads, but created directly through an attunement function. Then, you can rapidly pour mana into the item as needed to make it work. It’s like the reverse of a mana battery — it’s treating the Enchanter as the battery for an item. Could be useful if an item is out of mana, or in some sort of weird hypothetical where you need a larger mana pool for a function than the item itself can actually hold.

Kind of a neat idea, except…I can already do all that? I guess your average Enchanter probably doesn’t have a fast enough mana transfer rate to manage the mana drain from an equal-level item. And they wouldn’t have the mana threads for accelerating things or charging an item at a distance.

Is there anything to glean from this? I could study it in more detail to see if there’s a way to make my mana threads more efficient, I suppose, but I think I can just simulate all this with my own abilities.

Not sure if I should be disappointed. Transference is kind of my thing. Something new would have been nice, but I guess it’s good that I don’t need it? Moving on.

Light specialization next. Super unlikely anyone would ever get this, so I’m surprised it’s even here, but I suppose visages enjoy covering edge cases? Maybe just whichever visage worked on this. If it was a visage at all.

Mana Output Purification: This is an interesting one. Functionally, it’s very similar to what my Arbiter attunement does, but rather than purifying the mana in my body, it purifies my mana on the way out when I’m enchanting things. There are advantages and disadvantages here. If I was using this rather than the Arbiter function, my grey mana would start to shift toward whatever mana types I’m using, making casting those spells more efficient and making it more possible for me to qualify for specializations organically.

The downsides, however, would be significant. Having a mana signature in my body would make it easier to track me, and having extra layers of defense against tracking is nice. More importantly, though, this function would cost extra mana every time I cast a spell to even out the ratio in it. That could be a significant extra mana cost, meaning it would be harder to perform high-mana enchantments. And lastly, it only modifies enchanting. It wouldn’t purify my mana for, say, giving people mana through my Arbiter attunement. I’d have to either modify this function or write another one specifically for that purpose.

Going to pass on this one. Would have been an interesting option if I wasn’t already an Arbiter, but with what I have…nah. I can think about stripping ideas out of it later, though.

Finally, Acuity. That’s the compound mana type of transference and mental, which is pretty interesting.

Mana Minutia Manipulation: Okay, now this is something new, at least. This works sort of like the transference one, where it creates a link with an item. Rather than letting you emulate a capacity rune, though, this lets you link with a function rune. When you activate the function, the acuity effect communicates how the effect works, and hypothetically, helps you make small changes to the effect on the way out.

Conceptually, this is a great idea. In terms of practicality, though…I don’t really know without testing it. It seems like I’d need something like Accelerated Computation to have a meaningful frame of time to actually make any decisions related to changing a spell on the way out, and I’m not sure what kind of raw output I’d get out of the comprehension component of the function. If it’s something like an Identify spell, it’s probably too simplistic to be helpful. Conversely, if it’s something as complex as Analyze Attunement Composition, the amount of data would be so significant that it could be a critical distraction in battle. From the functions, it looks like it’s somewhere in between…which means that’s probably still enough information that it might be too much to be worth using in a fight?

…Oh. This might not be built for mid-combat rapid iterations on spells. Right. Normal Enchanters don’t do what I do.

Okay. Still worth thinking about, maybe testing sometime in a limited capacity. I could probably make a one-off version of the function to use without actually needing the whole framework behind it. Something more like just a spell I can cast.

That’ll have to go on the list.

I paused, taking a break after the initial set. While reading through sub-glyphs with my new spell wasn’t particularly mana intensive, I still wanted to avoid stressing my mental mana too much. I took some time to relax, cast another version of my Spirit Art: Rapid Recovery, which still wasn’t a real spirit art, but did help me feel a little better.

Of the options I’d seen, the Acuity function was the most interesting by far, but it also didn’t seem like the type of thing I had an immediate need for. I’d be much more interested in emulating it than risking turning it on. I could try that later, when I’d recovered from my strain a bit more.

I considered digging into the deprecated functions of the Enchanter attunement next, but I decided they were the least likely to be usable right now, and I wanted to focus on things that had immediate potential utility. Thus, I swapped over to reading the Arbiter functions next.

Arbiter Specialization Options

Transference first.

Secondary Infusion: This may be the first one that I’m not confident I’m reading properly.

I think what’s going on here is that it’s a second way to apply the Arbiter’s mana transfer function, but rather than infusing mana into an attunement, it transfers mana into the target’s secondary mana structures.

If I’m reading this right, it means that I could — for example — push transference mana into someone’s secondary essence structures directly. This would, I think, either recharge their secondary mana if they used it (like a dominion sorcerer who had used up their motion mana?) or maybe overcharge them like I can overcharge an attunement, promoting growth. Or, you know, it might just kill them, because I have no idea if that’s actually what happens if you overcharge someone’s secondary mana.

No documentation here, just functionality glyphs, and while I get most of the individual ones, I don’t have…like, studies or research on how you’re supposed to deal with this.

I need to, at a minimum, ask Researcher about increasing secondary mana. Is it safe? How would it impact someone? Could I just take transference mana from my attunement and pour it into myself daily to increase my speed?

Definitely worth exploring, but high-risk. Probably something I need to wait several months before trying in any case.

After that, I took a bit to track down Researcher. I asked about it immediately.

“The detailed functionality of secondary mana is considered restricted knowledge, Arbiter. Would you like me to request access to this on your behalf?”

“You know what? Yeah, actually. That’s innocuous and ‘me’ enough that I don’t think it’s going to set off any flags. In the meantime, though, do you know who else might have information on this topic?”

Researcher frowned. “Providing you with another source of information on a restricted topic is effectively still providing you with restricted knowledge, albeit indirectly.”

“Got it.” I nodded. “Thank you.”

A little annoying, but I understood her limitations. One more item for the long-term list. I can always tinker with it in the future.

I got back to work.

Okay, life mana is next.

Heal Attunement Structures: Attempts to repair damage to the physical structures of a damaged attunement or “analogous structure”. This looks like what I was trying to help Deni with on getting attunements functional after limbs were reattached, but it’s a function expressly designed for it. I wish I’d known about this a couple weeks ago.

I wonder if it would help mana scarring? It doesn’t expressly say so, but again, no documentation. I think it’s principally targeting Dianis Points, rather than star veins, so it’s not likely, but…hm.

Might have been worth testing on Sera if I had this earlier, but I didn’t. Debating if it’d be worth testing on myself, but I lean toward “no”. If I’m reading it right, it’s for fixing damage incurred from an attack, not for something like fixing strain of overuse. It might help strain, it might make it worse — life mana actually accelerates poison, for example. Another thing to ask an expert about. Think this one is more of a Deni question, or maybe a Farren or Constantine question. Will need to wait.

Next is light.

Direct Target Purification: This one is actually pretty straightforward. It’s a new activated function that uses light mana to erase the mana signature in a target, much like it automatically does for my own mana. The more mana the target has, the more light mana required to do it. There’s a component to detect the target’s mana value and composition before the mana is spent, but weirdly, there’s no fail state if I don’t have enough — it’ll just try to burn through my mana until I hit my minimum safe value and stop there. That might be bad design? I don’t think there’s a lot of utility to using this if you can only purify something part-way. Hm. Maybe as a means to try to do something like work around a mental effect on a target? I think this could help with that, but it isn’t designed for it.

Incremental uses to change something gradually, maybe? With batteries to help? I guess that’s doable?

Anyway, I can see some applications here, largely in terms of something like clearing the mana signature from an item someone else made. Purifying another person’s mana doesn’t have a lot of use — they’ll get the signature back immediately after they use their mana pool and it refills.

Oh, I guess I could use it right before starting on a cooperative enchantment project with someone. Like, to balance out Patrick’s mana so he could help me build a thing, and it wouldn’t have a signature. That’s not bad, but…I’m not sure I still need much help from anyone who has a small enough mana pool that I could actively purify it?

Maybe from someone who has a diametrically opposed mana type to my own, like Mara. Moving things like enhancement is tougher for me, even with the batteries, and her mana pool might exceed what I can work with on the battery side right now. Or compound mana types I don’t have batteries for.

Still, this is niche, at least for me. I can see how it’d be helpful for someone who isn’t me, but it’s not necessary for me right now. I might see if I can figure out how to copy it with a spell at some point, but low priority.

And finally…adaptation. Hm. That’s the compound between transference and life. Let’s see what this does.

Oh, wow. Okay. Wow.

Notes. Right.

Improve Acclimation Rate: This function continuously uses a significant portion of the user’s mana — about a quarter — to run a function that improves the body’s rate of acclimating to mana usage. This, so far as I can tell without any documentation, probably refers to increasing safe mana capacity faster, as opposed to working for secondary mana acclimation. It might do both? It might do both.

I hope it does both.

Wow. I’ve been looking for something like this for so long that it feels…a little surreal that there’s just a function that is already capable of doing it. I guess I did find a similar transcendence spell, but that was Citrine-plus, and this seems like it actually scales with your own mana.

Okay, less excitement, more objectivity. Let’s see. What are the downsides?

Obvious flaw one: It takes up a quarter of my mana. I’d have that much less to use, which is…significant. Even if I turned this off for things like fights, if I didn’t do it well in advance, I wouldn’t have the extra mana to use.

Obvious flaw two: I don’t actually know which mana type acclimation it refers to. I’d be happy with either, but safe mana capacity is more valuable to me.

Obvious flaw three: I have no idea what the rate of improvement is. If it’s 1 extra safe mana per year at a loss of a quarter of my mana, that’s obviously not worth much. If it’s an extra 1 safe mana a day, that’s absurdly helpful. It’s probably somewhere in between. If I had to guess, it would probably be a similar level of improvement to what I’d be getting out of something like my Null-Contract Gauntlet, but with a more general function and a higher overall mana cost.

Obvious flaw four: It might primarily acclimate me specifically to adaptation mana? I honestly have no idea. Does adaptation mana let me acclimate to any mana type? Is that what it does? I need to study this.

Less obvious flaw one: This might not actually do anything new. It’s possible that things like the exercises I’m doing, or my Null-Contract Gauntlet, serve similar functions to this acclimation improvement. I don’t know if they’d work cumulatively with each other. I think they probably would, but I have no test data to work with.

Less obvious flaw two: If it’s as effective as I’m hoping, there has to be a reason this isn’t better known. I mean, I guess it’s an unlikely specialization for someone to arrive at with an ultra-rare attunement, but someone else has to have broken into this thing before. I guess maybe people like Farren do know about it, and have ways of doing similar things, they just don’t disseminate that information, similar to how nobles keep their secrets? I guess that’s plausible.

Less obvious flaw three: Could I just replicate this with a spell, rather than needing to use an attunement function? If so, I could use it with more granularity, or on other people.

Addendum: Not actually a flaw, this is an idea. Stop writing ideas as flaws.

I paused there.

I think it’s pretty obvious which one excited me. Honestly, I strongly considered just turning the Adaptation function on right then and there.

Two main reasons why I didn’t.

First? I had never directly cast an adaptation spell.

This wasn’t to say that I had no acclimation to adaptation mana. My Arbiter function for transferring mana to someone else used adaptation as a major component of the process — it was, as far as I could tell from looking at the function, designed to help the recipient handle going over their maximum mana value. Essentially, it helped prevent the kind of mana scarring that Sera had experienced after drinking the mana primer.

Since I’d been using the Arbiter function on both my friends and myself, I’d been using adaptation mana on a weekly basis. Using it directly on myself probably helped my acclimation amount, too. And I probably benefitted from the fact that the attunement was generating and using adaptation mana in general, including for my shroud.

With all that said, that was better than nothing, but it was only a small fraction of the amount that I’d used something like transference mana. So, trying to turn on a function that generally expected a greater than 90% usage of adaptation magic was…maybe not such a good idea. Sure, adaptation sounded a lot safer than some mana types, but maybe not “let’s continuously spend a quarter of your mana on a mana type you’ve never used” level of safe.

If I wanted to use it, I’d need to at least practice some basic adaptation spells first to get my star veins and Dianis Points ready for that kind of strain.

Next, my body and mind were still recovering from Saffron. And while I was comfortable experimenting a little bit to read through functions, that didn’t extend to making major, life-altering attunement function changes. I might have considered it safe enough to turn on a transference function, but even that would have been pushing it, and I decided against making the attempt. There was no urgent need.

I considered the other functions as well. Transference was possibly an even more overwhelming win than adaptation if it worked the way I hoped, but so high risk that I couldn’t justify playing with it without asking someone who knew. Hopefully Researcher would be able to get access to that information for me, but if not, I’d ask Len or someone else soon.

All in all, I was very excited about the long-term power potential of turning on some of the Arbiter functions, but I knew I needed to wait before actively using them.

After a couple hours of rest to ensure I wasn’t pushing myself too hard, I began to dig through the deprecated functions. I wasn’t sure if I should be excited about them. Deprecated probably meant that they weren’t as good as the current functions, maybe things that had been left over from earlier attempts to build something useful that didn’t work out.

At least, that was the most likely explanation, right?

I didn’t get a clear answer to that question. But I did figure out very rapidly that these were not just failed prototypes for the existing functions — they were something else entirely.

And they were very, very dangerous.

I probably shouldn’t have looked at these.

I feel like my “Forbidden Knowledge” threshold just went from “sketchy but acceptable” into “Wydd has decided to delete you, have a nice day.”

I’m not actually going to write down what these things do. In fact, I’m going to go back and cut the parts out of my notes about deprecated functions above.

After I did that, I read them anyway, and I’m going to tell you what I found, since my concerns from that time — while reasonable — have shifted since that day.

The first deprecated function was “Enchant Spire Sigil”.

This was, I rapidly realized, a function specifically for creating the strange three-dimensional runes I had seen inside the Serpent Spire. Things like the crystallized runes inside the prison that had held Vera, Echion, and Keras. The runes etched into the exterior walls of the spire itself might have counted, too.

With that function, provided I had the right materials, I could create the same types of three-dimensional glyphs that were used in the spire. How significant was that?

I genuinely had no real idea.

These things didn’t exactly come with documentation. I could parse what the function did, but it didn’t tell me the instructions for making any given rune — or sigils, as they referred to these.

While making more of the sigils themselves was impractical without any knowledge of how they worked, that wasn’t all the function did. It was similar to the core function of Enchanters — it wasn’t just for building enchantments.

It let me interact with existing enchantments, too.

I could, in theory, use this function to alter existing Spire Sigils.

This would, of course, require some idea of how they worked…but now that I had a starting point with some references for sigil functionality in the sub-glyphs in here, I could begin to study that.

I’d need another information source to be able to do too much with it, but I already had something that would help. Something I’d tucked away for a long time, having translated a portion and understanding its value, but having no application for it.

It wasn’t the right time for that, but I began to make plans.

I wouldn’t make any changes to my attunements at that very moment. I needed time to continue to study, build my foundations, and prepare my body for the changes that would come. When my body and spirit were healed, I would be ready.

And I would forge the tools for my victory within myself.

Chapter VI – Making Up for Lost Time

Even if I wasn’t going to make changes to my attunements themselves, I’d proven that my Arbiter attunement was stable enough for use.

My first enchanting project was upgrading my first Silver Phoenix Sigil’s defensive power. That was a relatively simple activity. I could upgrade each of the four capacity runes through my Sunstone-level batteries, then the recharge runes. That would, unfortunately, make it explode.

Four Sunstone-level capacity runes on their own wouldn’t overload the sigil, but they would when I also had mana regeneration and health regeneration in place. I had to decide if I wanted to keep those additional functions, and also, if I wanted to consider upgrading those as well or just the shields.

Ultimately, I opted to start by just upgrading a single shield capacity rune and recharge rune. That used up both of my 360-mana batteries, and they’d take a while to recharge because of how slow mana recovered on the train. I’d have to decide what I wanted to do with the remaining capacity of the sigil later — and if I wanted to duplicate the same thing on my second sigil or do something differently.

Might be time to start making specialized sigils for different types of defenses. I thought about one specifically for physical attacks early on in my first year, but I didn’t have the expertise to make one. Now, though, I don’t think it’d be hard at all. In fact, if I want to build one with Enhancement mana, that’d give Mara something to help with…and she’d probably like that.

Okay, plan for that a little later, but I need to figure out the runes first. In the meantime…I have some things I’ve waited on too long already.

The next stage was working on more anti-interference enchantments for my sigils, batteries, circlet, necklace, and armor. Simply put, I was wearing too many items.

Anti-interference enchantments weren’t perfect. There were a variety of different types, each designed to handle different types of possible interference. Some forms of mana interference came from the flow of mana into an item while it was recharging, especially with environment-based recharge runes like I tended to use. Other interference came from excess mana that was turned away when the item was already at capacity.

Backing up a bit, since I’m not sure if I’ve explained this clearly enough before.

When a recharge rune draws in mana and an item is at capacity, the capacity rune just prevents the mana from entering the item. This can create a sort of cloud of excess ambient mana around the item, similar to a shroud. It’ll disperse eventually, typically when something else draws the mana in, or when the item actually needs the mana and draws it in.

The current anti-interference runes that I’d been using handled this by checking when the item was at capacity, then temporarily disabling the recharge rune. This meant my items were constantly running an extra set of functions, which took up some of the capacity, but it meant that there was no excess mana cloud from the recharge process.

This did not, however, handle the flow of mana coming into the items while they were recharging. This didn’t make a cloud, but if you had several items packed super closely together that were drawing in mana simultaneously, they could interfere with each other either by robbing each other of mana (if one item’s recharge was just that much stronger than the others) or, in more dire circumstances, causing an interaction as different forms of environmental mana were drawn in simultaneously and mixed in the air.

For this reason, I had historically been very cautious about wearing items of opposing types, but I was reaching the point where not only was I ignoring that limitation by constantly using things like batteries, I also just had so many items that some of them were bound to cause each other problems.

So, in addition to my first type of anti-interference runes — which I’d already added previously — I had to start adding a secondary type, which was designed to narrow the way that the recharge functions worked to prevent overlap between the incoming streams of mana.

Even with both anti-interference enchantments, I still needed to be cautious in how I placed my items — no sitting items with enhancement next to my transference ones — but I was a little safer.

Oh, I suppose there was a third type of interference as well, which is the interference between active functions. That’d be like, for example, if I set up two shield sigils with opposing mana types that were designed to create barriers at the exact same distance from the body. That’s a bad idea. This wasn’t a matter of adding anti-interference enchantments — I handled it on the original function side by setting different distances.

Anyway, I spent some time getting all that sorted out, then worked on another project I’d neglected.

Building Mara a Null-Contract Gauntlet had been on my list of things to do before, well, gauntlets had become a bad idea. I’d procrastinated because she’d been wearing other magical items on her wrists — the bracelets I’d made her in the first year — but that was easy enough to solve. I just need to make something that didn’t go on her hands. And fortunately, Null-Contract items weren’t pushing the mana limits of one of my sigils. Not at the level I’d made them, anyway.

So, after completing the upgrades to my shield sigil, that was my next project. I was out of sigil blanks and battery blanks, so I made the difficult decision to temporarily repurpose my weaker grey-mana battery. I kept the 360-point battery, which I could eventually use to make even larger ones if needed.

Going through the process of making the Null-Contract Sigil was easy. I was already used to working with mana through my right hand, I just had to avoid instinctively using my Enchanter attunement. I actually considered using my Arbiter/Enchanter hybrid attunement to turn the Enchanter attunement off temporarily to avoid any accidents, but that seemed like an even greater risk, so I just took my time to be cautious throughout the process.

Using mental mana through my hand was weird, since it was obviously still affecting my mind, even though I wasn’t using my mind as the source of the mana. I had all sorts of questions about if that was still going to end up causing me harm somehow, but I pushed that aside. Working was too important.

Powering the runes was simple. I already had batteries for everything the device needed, so I barely had to touch my mana supply. The most painstaking part was copying sub-glyphs over, much like I’d had to do between my attunements, but it wasn’t actually difficult. I just found it annoying to do it without Accelerated Computation active.

I added a couple upgrades to this version. They were fairly straightforward; more anti-tampering runes, and one basic set of runes for blocking detection magic. Neither would hold up against any serious effort to reverse-engineer the item, but I was only trying to protect them against people figuring the items out at a casual glance. For the same reason, I designed the sigil with the runes on the back face of the sigil, then simply etched a basic Valian military symbol on the front. That made it look purely decorative at a glance.

It wasn’t a complex process, even with the added steps. Really, I could have made several of the items if I had the raw materials…which was going to be much harder to deal with, now that I didn’t have Keras to turn coins into sigil blanks for me.

I could probably trade this for something significant, rather than giving it to Mara directly. Maybe even something like a prosthetic, or something to help Sera, like a full vial of whatever the “shal” potion is. Of course, I have to be careful about who I share this with. Even with Meltlake’s permission to trade it, it’s too valuable to share with anyone that isn’t going to give me something that could end up helping Valia as a whole.

I paused, considering.

I wonder what Anabelle Farren would give me for something like this. Caelford are supposed to be allies with us, right? And they might actually have the resources to produce these en-masse, which could be good for both of us, but…I still don’t know what her angle is on all this.

And, with Ferras herself missing, things might be more complicated.

…Hm.

Maybe for the next one.

…Yeah, let’s make two.

After repurposing my first transference battery (and keeping my second one available), I had two Null-Contract Sigils available. Sera didn’t need one — she already had a contract-based attunement — and Patrick and I already had the gloves. So, I kept one for possible trade — either to Farren, or possibly to someone like Elora Theas for a favor — and then headed back to talk to Mara.

***

I found Sera and Mara together this time, chatting in their cabin. I knocked politely and they let me in.

“How are you two feeling?” I asked.

“Like garbage. Not feeling like giving platitudes right now.” Sera groaned and pulled her blanket tighter around her. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah, sorry.” I turned to Mara. “I have something for you. Wish I’d made it sooner.”

She frowned. “This isn’t a prosthetic, is it? I know you’ve been working on something, and I thought we’d agreed—”

“No, something different. A sigil.” I pulled it out of my bag.

“…A shield sigil? You already made me an upgraded one. And…I’m not sure how much it’d help.”

“No. I mean, I can work on upgrading your shield sigil later, maybe, once my batteries recharge. I was actually just working on mine—”

“You’re getting side-tracked, Corin,” Sera pointed out.

“Right. This is a Null-Contract Sigil.” I’d practiced in my mind how to present this part. “It’s like the gauntlets that I made for Patrick and myself, but it’s a sigil, because you’re Heart Marked. Works best if you wear it right over your attunement.”

That was all technically true. I absolutely could have made it work without direct contact with her attunement, but being closer would make it marginally more efficient. So, it was actually a better fit for her than a gauntlet would have been, even without the obvious issues with that approach.

“That’s…kind of you, Corin, but you don’t need to be spending all your time on me. You…could be investing in other people, who are more…”

I put up my hands in a warding gesture. “I made another one, too, for trade. And I have another one of the gauntlet model, too. It’s probably the best product I can be working on right now, because they’re incredibly useful. Sera doesn’t get one because she doesn’t need one — she already has a contract-based attunement. But for any other students in our age range, they’re super useful. I can probably make one that’d be helpful for more powerful people, too, but that’ll require more time and work.”

“…I guess that makes sense. But if I can’t fight right now, maybe you should give this to Mary or something?”

I shook my head. I hadn’t even really considered Mary an option, although admittedly she wasn’t a bad choice for the second sigil I’d made if I didn’t want to trade it to someone. “No, I’d rather keep these to people I trust for the moment, unless I decide to trade one to someone for something extremely valuable. I’ve touched on this before, but any kind of exercise item like this is huge, and I haven’t heard of anyone making one in exactly this style before. Vellum has made other types of exercise items, but they’re like Citrine-level stuff. This is doable — and mass-producible — at my level. That’s a big deal. Meltlake originally wanted me to keep them entirely hidden for a while, until we figured out what to do with them, but the war changes things. My next sigil will likely go toward a trade with one of our allies for some of their own enchantment designs or some kind of promise of additional military help. Whatever I can bargain for.”

“And you’re sure you want to give me something that valuable?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I trust you. Also, I’d like your help with something in exchange, if you don’t mind.”

She raised an eyebrow at that, but at least she didn’t seem angry. That was good. My strategy seemed to be working. “What could I possibly help you with right now?”

“I’m thinking about swapping out the mana type in one of my shield sigils to enhancement to make it more effective against physical attacks. I have an enhancement battery, but it isn’t big enough to handle what I want. I was thinking you could help me with both upgrading the battery and maybe charging the sigil itself.”

She gave me a slow nod. “That…seems easy enough. I can do that.”

“Good. We can handle that later, but I can give you your sigil right now.”

“You’re thinking of trading Farren for attunement vials,” Sera cut in, folding her arms. “That’s why you made two of them. You’re planning to see her at the Emerald Council.”

…That was quick.

I turned to Sera, only mildly abashed at my motives being so transparent. “Yeah, that was my first idea. One or two vials might be enough for me to eventually reverse engineer the process of making them.”

“Which she’d know.”

“Sure, but she was willing to trade you vials for Ceris. She must have known some of those would end up with me to analyze, if you’d gone through with it. She can’t have that strong of a theoretical opposition to me learning this stuff.”

“Maybe not, but Ceris is a divine artifact from a dead planet, Corin. Your Null-Contract stuff is creative, don’t get me wrong — maybe even innovative enough that she hasn’t thought of it already, I’m fifty-fifty on that one — but it’s not a god sword.”

“Okay, fair. But I don’t think it’d hurt to ask. And if she’s not interested in a direct trade, I might find others who would be interested.”

“It absolutely would hurt to ask, Corin. Admitting the existence of something like what you made is already half-way to allowing someone like Farren to build it. And if you trade it to someone else, they’d likely be able to reverse engineer your device themselves.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, obviously. That’s going to happen the minute anyone outside of our inner circle gets one. Originally, I was planning to wait until I found the perfect time to unveil these — they’re that significant — but we’re not going to get a much better chance for trading high-value stuff than the Emerald Council. Even Meltlake seemed to agree on that. I’ve considered just trading to Elora, but she has a contract attunement herself, so it’s not as valuable to her.”

“Not directly, but she has an entire household to look after. And I’m sure she has Enchanters in her employ. It would be worth a great deal if they could replicate it. Have you considered taking steps to prevent replication, like extra runes or enchantments to obfuscate how it works?”

I frowned. “Actually, yes, for the current ones that I’m giving out directly to our group. Although…in the long term, I don’t know if I want to limit people from copying these. It’s helpful for people. It’s the type of thing that I’d rather everyone have, not just a few people.”

“Always such an idealist.” Sera sighed. “We can discuss that more later. For the moment, we’re being rude. Mara, would you like the sigil?”

Mara looked back to me, then nodded firmly and extended her hand. “I’ll put it on right after you leave. Thank you, Corin.”

“After I leave? Wh— oh, right. Yep. Lemme explain a bit more about how it works…”

After that, I gave her a quick tutorial, handed her the sigil, and headed off.

It felt good to help someone. And it was going to feel even better when I figured out how I could help everyone.

Chapter VII – Special Delivery

After Mara accepted her sigil, I left the cabin and let her try it on. She reported back later that it seemed to be working.

I’d set up her Null-Contract Sigil for spirit mana, just like my own. This was both because it was the easiest option, since I just had to directly copy how mine functioned, and because it would help get her started on processing spirit mana in her body. Even if we failed to find another spirit mana source, like a crystal mark or an attunement, I knew I could theoretically build up more spirit mana for her by gradually upgrading the sigil — but that was more of a fallback plan.

She’d already learned the same Regeneration spells I had, so I theoretically could have taught her what I’d figured out for a spirit-based version, but the contract didn’t provide her with enough spirit mana to use it safely. With only a pool of ten spirit mana to start with, I got her started with a basic “Spirit Sight” spell that was similar to Detect Aura, but for seeing spirits. She could practice that in order to acclimate her body to spirit mana use, then we’d eventually work on upgrading her sigil.

I took a bit of time to work on upgrading my own Null-Contract Gauntlet to trade out more of my grey mana for spirit mana, since I’d been wearing it for long enough that it felt safe to go up a bit higher, but I didn’t push it too far. Just up to fifteen mana, rather than ten. I also upgraded it with the same improved anti-tampering runes and anti-detection runes I’d put on Mara’s, then borrowed Patrick’s gauntlet and made the same upgrades. That process took hours, but it was important work, and it felt good to be working on enchanting projects again, even if the tasks were fairly basic.

After that, I rested and did some reading, until Mara came and visited me to repay me for the sigil. I assured her she didn’t need to do it right away, but it was obvious she didn’t like the debt hanging over her, so we upgraded my enhancement battery. After that, she was low enough on mana that rest would be needed before doing the shield sigil upgrade, and I still needed to find the right runes for the job, anyway.

She wasn’t my last visitor for the day. And unfortunately, while the next conversation was one that I needed to have, it wasn’t one I’d been looking forward to.

***

I was marginally surprised when Sera managed to dislodge herself from her blankets to pay me a visit. She was still barely suppressing shivers and held a cup of some kind of steaming liquid between her hands, but it was good to see her out of bed.

I really should make her something to help keep her warm. In the meantime…

I beckoned her into my own small train car. “You can borrow my blankets.”

She nodded gratefully, sitting on my bed and adjusting the blankets to drape over her while she sat, still clutching the cup. I wasn’t sure if she ever actually intended to drink whatever was in there or if she was just using it for warmth.

“Good to see you up and about. Have you been feeling better?”

“Not really.” She grimaced. “I’ve been doing some research on my condition, but it’ll be easier when I have access to Edrians at the council. The ‘shal’ thing implies Tyrenian alchemy, and parts of Edria were settled by Tyrenians. Whether or not anyone attending the gathering will be familiar with a specific alchemical formula, I can’t say, but it may offer a lead.”

“A gateway crystal might?” I offered.

“Once I’m feeling a bit better, I intend to talk to the transcendence crystal about it. Resurrection magic and similar things tend to be the types of knowledge that require boons to purchase, though, and that’s trickier. My contract with the crystal doesn’t provide me with infinite information for free. There’s room to negotiate, but…I’m tired. And that’s not what I’m here to talk about.”

“Sure. Just don’t defer something important forever. That’s my job.”

She gave a weak chuckle. “Well, at least you’re self-aware. And…that is why I’m here.”

“Which world-shaking problem have I been ignoring for too long?”

Sera shook her head. “Nothing world-shaking. More personal, really. We didn’t really talk about what happened with Father after it was resolved. I know that was deliberate on your part — you wanted to move forward with your life. But there are elements of that situation that are too important to ignore, in the greater context of what we’re about to get involved in.”

I grimaced. She was right, of course. I’d been very deliberately avoiding following up on the situation with my father and the aftermath of destroying his principal motivation for…well, everything. “Do you think I went too far?”

“Not in the slightest. Knowing how he treated you…honestly, I think you were merciful. You didn’t have to leave Father with any attunement at all. He’s still effectively crippled, however. Not because Enchanters are weak, as he asserted so strenuously and incorrectly, but because his body is acclimated to near-opposite mana types, and he’ll have a long adjustment period to acclimate. From what I’ve heard, he was a Carnelian, rather than a Citrine, in the days before he left.”

“…Left?” I asked.

“For a second Judgment.”

I took a deep breath. “A second Judgment? Where?”

“I don’t know.” Sera shook her head. “But what I do know is that he took enough money to pay for the Judgment and left instructions that, if he should not return, the house would be turned over to you. That was weeks ago, and there’s been no word from him.”

I was silent.

Had…I just lost another family member to a Judgment? And…had it been because of my own actions, this time?

I had known that there was a possibility — a significant one, in fact — that Father would attempt to get a second attunement after he fully processed what had happened. There were several alternative options, of course.

He could have pushed his pride aside and asked me to reverse the changes, which I would have considered if he’d approached me with a sincere enough apology for his actions. That, of course, was extraordinarily unlikely.

He could have leveraged the house’s resources to try to buy an artificial attunement — perhaps even an artificial version of Shaper. I genuinely wasn’t sure if we had anything that he could sell that would cover that cost. Our home, maybe? I wasn’t sure what the value of that looked like. Or perhaps Alaric’s cane?

But I doubted pride would allow him to use anything he deemed “artificial.” Especially given the clear connections between artificial attunements and what I’d done to him.

Beyond that, going hunting for a crystal mark in the Unclaimed Lands was also possible, or even going off-continent for another form of magic.

Honestly, I’d also considered that he might simply kill himself, either directly, or through something like suicide-by-climbing.

I’d never expected him to simply sit around. And if I’d been taking bets, going for a second Judgment would have been high on my list of possibilities. Judgments came with a cultural idea that any power earned within was granted by the goddess, and thus, deserved. If he survived his Judgment and came out with a second attunement, he’d feel he deserved it, and perhaps it would give him a way to rebuild his personal identity.

But if he failed…well, that was the goddess’ will, wasn’t it?

I clenched my jaw. It would be easy to blame myself for his actions, but I refused. He’d been the one who had chosen to raise his cane to a child, time and time again — and he was the one who had challenged me to a duel with no limitations.

I’d let that abuser destroy my life for long enough. But now, if he was gone, I had a responsibility to the rest of my family. And, after processing what Sera was saying more fully, I knew where she was going with it. “You want me to declare him dead and take over the house.”

She shook her head. “Not precisely. I think you should declare yourself the interim lord, since Father is absent in a time of war. This will give us the political leverage that you’ll need as Lord Cadence, but with room to adjust if he does return — or, if, perhaps, your mother has more information that she has not provided to us. It also gives you room for other decisions that are more permanent even if he doesn’t return.”

“…Other decisions, meaning turning the house over to you?”

A single curt nod in response. “Yes.”

“Is that something that you want?”

“It was,” she admitted freely. “Now, with my health being what it is, it would be a poor strategic choice. The ruler of House Cadence cannot look weak in a time of war. We may not be one of the great houses of ancient Valian history, but there is a level of symbolism involved in being the house that famously ended the most recent continental war. If I was to come forward as an Invoker of Seiyu, that would offer enough prestige, that would be significant enough to make me appear on paper to be a worthy and formidable heir. God Beast Summoners have tremendous prestige, and ascended attunements are the things of legend. But none of that matters if I can barely step out of a chair. I am in no condition to represent us at the council — not as I am now.”

“I…I’m sorry. I…I wish I could have done more. Saffron was just so fast, and—”

“He wasn’t,” Sera interrupted, surprising me.

“What?”

“Well, he was fast, but not overwhelmingly so. Not to the extent he appeared to be. I…I must have watched that battle a hundred times, from different angles. Mine, brief as it was. Mara’s. Patrick’s. I would value yours as well, should you be willing to speak to Researcher and have a memory crystal made, but I haven’t wanted to bother you with it. From our various perspectives, however, I’ve gained some insight, and I realized how foolish my original assessment was. How much I’d missed, even if it should have been painfully obvious.”

I frowned. “I’m not sure that watching something like that over and over is healthy, Sera. It’s—”

“I needed it. I needed to understand what I’d missed, how I’d let something like that…” She winced, pulling the blankets tighter. “I died, Corin, or something close enough to it that there’s little meaningful difference. I can’t allow myself to ever walk into a situation like that again. We were woefully unprepared, but not in the ways I’d thought in the immediate aftermath of the fight. It wasn’t speed, Corin. Derek with your Mass Haste spell could have matched that — and he did, once he realized what was happening. From Patrick’s vision, you were very nearly capable of matching his speed yourself, while you were controlled by Thorn and using those strange techniques. The problem is that we didn’t see the real battle at all. Not until it was too late, and perhaps not even then.”

Something clicked in my mind when she delivered that last line. “You’re talking about his illusions and simulacra.”

“Right. At first, I wondered how someone who wasn’t even the real Saffron could have injured Derek as quickly as he did, with that invisible attack right at the start of the battle. It took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that isn’t what happened.” She sighed. “Saffron — the real Saffron — was probably standing around, invisible, throughout the entire opening of the fight. He was playing with us. When the fake Saffron moved, the invisible one just hit Derek from inside his shroud, making it look like he had impossibly high speed. There were several moments in the fight that likely involved similar trickery. It wasn’t raw strength or speed we needed, Corin. Or, at least, not just that. We never saw the threat at all.”

“That’s…” My hands opened and closed in the air. “…incredibly frustrating. If we’d walked in with an invisibility detection spell up…”

“We might have been able to dodge his tricks entirely, yes. For what it’s worth, I don’t think your magic — or even Researcher’s — would have shown even a hint of him. Saffron’s magic clearly doesn’t work like ours. He’s a dominion sorcerer, like Keras, with massively variable levels of power in different sorcery types, and some of his spells weren’t impressive at all. But, as Keras warned us, deception was one of Saffron’s areas of specialization. I don’t think we had a counter. Derek might have managed it, however, if we’d planned for it. An Emerald-level spell to detect invisible opponents would have been a reasonable measure for us to take before going on that mission.”

“…Sure, in retrospect. But Derek has limited contract slots, and—”

“Yes, I know. Many things are clear in retrospect that we could not have necessarily anticipated. But…for the future…it would make me feel more comfortable if we have some way of detecting powerful illusions before we step into battles against high-level opponents.”

I nodded in sympathy. “Of course. I’ll plan for that. It’ll go on the list. Honestly, the real one. I promise.”

“Good.” She nodded. “Because I don’t think Saffron was the only one playing tricks that we missed. And I don’t know if we’ve seen the end of those manipulations.”

“You mean Aayara?” I asked, vaguely alarmed. “You think she has further plans for us?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. She…was entirely too unsurprised. Made her deals too quickly and easily. Even watching Patrick’s perspective, I can’t see any evidence she was physically in the room before Saffron went down, but I wouldn’t be surprised. I think she might have helped us.”

“Helped us? Why?”

“Not for our sake, of course. But Saffron was, as Keras put it, trying to be a ‘third player in a two-player game.’ I think she was using us as a tool to get rid of, to use an unfortunate turn of phrase, a thorn in her side.”

“How would she have helped, though? If she was fighting him invisibly in the background somehow, I don’t think we would have missed—”

“Nothing so overt as that. I suspect that, either right before or right after Patrick hit him, she did something to turn off Saffron’s regeneration.”

I frowned. “I don’t know, Sera. I think it’s plausible Bright Reflection did that itself. Saffron was supposed to be weak against things like light and spirit magic.”

“Sure, but you practically blew him in half with Ceris storing one of Elora’s spells in your previous fight. Do you think Bright Reflection hit him harder than that?”

I shrugged. “I genuinely don’t know. It’s possible that either Patrick’s sword or mine hit Saffron directly in his heart Dianis Point, which did something to disrupt his abilities in a way that our previous attacks didn’t. Certain magical interactions can be much more destructive than others.”

“Maybe. Won’t discount it as a possibility, especially in Selys-Lyann’s case — I could see Thorn playing a role in turning off Saffron’s defenses, potentially, even if he was banished and couldn’t communicate. But that’s the problem, Corin. We couldn’t tell. Even looking back at the memories, we couldn’t see enough to draw reasonable or accurate conclusions. So…I’d like your help.”

“Understood. A high-level illusion-countering item will be one of my priorities. It’s going to take some time, though, both due to my recovery and because I don’t have the resources to make one. We could look into buying one at the summit, or trading one, if you’d like.”

“Reasonable. And…that brings us back to the first point. Are you willing to go with my plan for the house?”

“A temporary declaration of lordship?” I took a breath, considering. “If I’m honest, I don’t want that responsibility. But…yeah, Sera. I can handle it.” I flexed my hands. “I’ll play the role of Lord Cadence. At least for a little while.”

“Good.” Sera nodded. “In that case, take this.” She reached into a pouch at her side, revealing a glove.

I raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m not good at this sort of thing, but I’m pretty sure I’m the one who is supposed to be offering gloves to people.”

She chuckled. “In terms of your right hand, certainly, and giving that to Patrick was an excellent move. For your left, however,” she handed me the glove, “wearing something to symbolize your own house is a wise move for this kind of gathering.”

I nodded, inspecting the glove. As I turned it over in my hands, I noticed that the supple material had a metallic glint to both the basic fabric and the House Cadence symbol. “Metalweave?”

“Silverweave. The good stuff, like what they make higher-end dueling tunics out of. I was certain you’d want something you could enchant.”

“Thanks, Sera. This is a great gift.” I raised the glove, then slipped it on. “Fits better than I would have expected. Maybe playing this role won’t be so bad, at least for a little while.”

When I went to bed that night, I had no idea just how quickly I’d regret those words.

***

The next morning, I groggily woke to the sound of a knock on the door of my train car. I might have managed to mutter something like, “Minute,” in response.

Patrick was, fortunately, more coherent. “Who’s there?”

“Breakfast delivery for Master Corin Cadence.” The voice was unfamiliar, but that wasn’t too strange. “Master” was odd, and maybe a little overly formal, but I did technically have that title even if I didn’t claim the lordship.

As I sat up and rubbed at my eyes, still lost in thought, Patrick opened the door. I got a brief look at someone with a rolling cart. Atop it was a metal plate covered by a metal dome, which seemed to be how they kept the food hot for deliveries or something. I’d ordered food delivered to the car a few times before, since excessive contact with people was something I preferred to avoid even in the best of times.

“Thanks for ordering breakfast,” I murmured to Patrick.

“I didn’t, though. Must have been Sera thinking ahead, or…do you know who sent this, sir?”

“Hm? No name was given. Lord Cadence, forgive me for bothering you, but can you sign for the delivery?”

I blinked tired eyes. I didn’t usually need to sign for food, but I supposed if someone else had paid for it, that made a degree of sense. I extracted myself from the bed, still in pajamas, and came over to accept a pen and began to sign my name on a paper on top of the cart.

As I did so, the server began to lift the metal dome off the tray—

And Patrick, faster than I’d ever seen him react, yelled something I didn’t quite catch and whipped his hands in two different directions.

A burst of wind lashed out, hurling me hard toward the back wall of the train car. A second burst hurled the tray, cart, and server in the opposite direction, completely out of our train car and toward the opposite side.

I hit the wall hard, my impact cushioned by both my shrouds and my shield sigils, which I was, as always, wearing on my pajamas. I caught sight of Patrick whipping his hand in a horizontal direction, causing our train car’s door to slam shut, just before the world was consumed by thunder and fire.

The sound was deafening, but the sight of what happened next was worse. The detonation caved the metal door inward, sending a shower of shrapnel directly into Patrick, who still stood in front of it. He fell backward in a bleeding mess, his own shroud deflecting some of the pieces, but his shield sigils were still pinned to his folded uniform in his bags.

I heard screams — his scream, my own scream, and Mara from across the hall.

I rushed to Patrick as he fell, immediately assessing the damage. I was no proper healer, but without his shield sigil on, he didn’t have any form of active regeneration effect — and with dozens of slivers of metal protruding from his skin, Patrick needed immediate help. More than I could give, in truth, but I wasn’t going to sit and do nothing.

Not when my retainer had body-blocked an assassination attempt meant for me.

Patrick writhed on the floor as I knelt next to him, his hands covering his face. There were splinters there, but fortunately, I didn’t see any splinters near his eyes. His arm had been raised from his last motion to shut the door, and it must have been in front of his face when the door exploded. He still had cuts on other parts of his face where his arm hadn’t covered, but he’d avoided anything immediately lethal, if only barely.

Regeneration spells generally were considered beneficial even when foreign objects were stuck in the body, since they’d usually push the objects outward. I immediately put a hand on him and hit him with a Sunstone-level Regeneration spell. While my instincts pushed me toward using Transcendent Regeneration, I knew that we weren’t out of danger, and I couldn’t risk incapacitating myself by dipping into transcendence before I recovered.

After that, I began to carefully pull out the worst of the slivers, holding Patrick down with my other hand to prevent him from squirming while I worked.

“I’ve got you, you’re going to be okay,” I tried to reassure him, but I wasn’t so sure, and I wasn’t good at that type of thing.

Only a minute had passed before Mara ripped off the remains of the door to the room. “Patrick!” she yelled, then she was down at his side as well. “The resh happened?”

“Assassination attempt. Patrick noticed it, I didn’t. He body-blocked the doorway before the explosion. You and Sera okay?”

“We’re mostly fine, we were in bed and most of the metal shards didn’t hit where we were sitting, but uh, don’t try to walk straight out the door. The floor is mostly gone.”

I blinked at that. “Was there a body outside?”

“Not that I saw, but there was blood on the wall.”

I cursed. The assassin had either fallen when the floor collapsed or survived and ran — in either case, he had a lead.

“Get us a healer,” I told her. “I’m doing what I can, but—”

Patrick reached up and grabbed Mara’s arm, still trembling. “I’ll be fine. Get the assassin.”

I glanced down at Patrick. “No, you need a healer first. That’s the priority, not catching—”

“I’ll get a healer,” Sera called from across the hall. “Or, rather, I’ll message Elora, and—”

More screams from other parts of the train. No explosions, but several sounds of spells going off, coming from multiple directions.

“This wasn’t isolated,” Mara murmured. “This was enemy action. We’re under attack.”

Sera floated across the hall. “We may not get help for a bit. Wall.” A wall of ice manifested over the doorway. “Message: Elora, we’ve been hit by an assassination attempt. Patrick is down, needs healer. Will attempt to stabilize him ourselves.”

I looked up at Mara. “Your healing lessons?”

“Not much further along than yours. I’ll help you fish out the metal bits, then I’ll see what I can do.”

As we worked, Sera frowned, seeming to listen to something I couldn’t hear. “We’re not going to get help immediately, this is—”

The ground beneath us wrenched, and I barely had time to cover my head as I heard a screech — and our entire train car flipped as it was hurled off the rails.

Mara slammed her good hand into the ground, forming a hemispheric barrier around us — not dissimilar from the barriers I’d seen Teft use during our first encounter with Mizuchi. That meant that as the train car tumbled at massive speed, our bodies simply slammed into the protective shield — and each other — rather than the train walls or the shattering glass of the windows.

I don’t know how long we rolled before we came to a stop. My neck and back were in agony, but the barrier had saved us from the worst of it…at least for the moment. We’d been hit hard and I wasn’t thinking clearly, but even in that state, I knew that it took a lot of power to rip a train car clean off the train and hurl it — and, as my vision cleared and I oriented myself, I realized the scale was much worse than that.

As Mara dispersed her barrier, I could see that the former door to my train car was now above us — we’d flipped with the window-side now beneath us. A brief look out the door showed me that it hadn’t just been that our car had been ripped free.

Something had ripped the entire train in half and tossed our portion off the tracks.

I didn’t get much more of a look before Sera yanked me downward —a blast of lightning flashed where my head had been a moment before.

“Stay down,” Sera managed, then burst into a coughing fit. I gave her a concerned look, wondering if it was a recurrence of her problems with her lungs and throat, but we had more pressing concerns.

Being thrown hadn’t exactly helped Patrick’s condition.

Mara and I looked over the damage, exchanging grim looks. Patrick was pale, bleeding badly, and…

“Put the barrier back up,” Sera said, “And make what room you can. I’m going to summon help.”

Mara nodded, reforming her barrier, and we shifted our positions to create an opening.

Sera and I had previously discussed the risks of summoning on a moving train — it wasn’t generally a great idea, nor was teleportation, unless you were skilled enough to be able to do it in such a way that you could account for the movement of the vehicle during the process. While Sera might have managed that with a semester of additional practice since our last train trip, being ripped free of the train had eliminated that particular problem.

“Transcendence Gateway Crystal, I summon you,” Sera whispered. A miniature version of the crystal appeared hovering in the air above us. “My friend here is badly injured. Can you treat him?”

[Healing injuries is not my primary skill set, but I can provide some measure of assistance. Please hold his body still.]

Mara and I held Patrick’s arms and legs, while Sera held his hands. The crystal flashed, then I saw the remaining shrapnel that was stuck in his body vanish, one piece at a time.

The crystal must be teleporting the fragments out to avoid further injury, I realized. That’s…a trick I should learn.

After that, a pale white light flooded over the train car. I recognized the mana in the air as a blend of life and transcendence, not dissimilar from what I used in my own Transcendent Regeneration spell. It…wasn’t a lot of mana, though.

[Regrettably, with my present mana supply, this is the extent to which I can assist you.]

I got the hint and began searching through the rubble of the train car for my dimensional bag. It turned out to be outside Mara’s barrier, which required lowering the shield briefly, but I fetched it — and Selys-Lyann — without incident.

After that, the barrier went back up, and I began the familiar process of feeding mana into the crystal. The light of healing brightened as I fueled the crystal’s power. As time passed, Patrick’s color began to return, but he wasn’t anywhere close to fully healed when we heard a knock on the side of the train car.

Instantly, Mara and I were up, my sword in my hand before I knew what was happening.

“You alive in there? We need to move!”

With a hint of relief, I recognized Mary Hawthorne’s voice. “We’re alive, but Patrick is still badly hurt.”

“Get him mobile! You need to get out of there, now! We’re looking at about two minutes before another massive attack hits the train!”

I let out a hiss.

“It’s fine, I can…” Patrick winced as he began to sit up, then his head flopped back down. “Okay, you’re gonna have to carry me.”

We wrenched him to his feet, and he wobbled, but managed to stand on trembling legs.

“Barrier coming down,” Mara called.

“Mary, catch and set!”

As soon as the barrier lifted, Sera hurled her teleportation anchor out of the top of the train car door.

“Got it, you’re clear!”

Sera activated her circlet, then we were standing outside the train. Patrick nearly collapsed immediately, but Mary and Vermillion were there to help catch him and hold him.

“We’re moving this way, come on!” Mary said, handing Sera her anchor, and then we were moving at a half-run, half-carrying Patrick.

Sera dismissed the summoned crystal as we ran, instead summoning Vanniv.

“Ah, hello everyone! What a wonderful—” Vanniv scanned the battlefield. “Oh, never mind, everything is terrible.”

“Carry Patrick, please,” Sera said simply.

“Understood.” Vanniv bent down, and we passed Patrick into his arms. The karvensi lifted Patrick easily.

We moved much faster after that — fast enough that we were out of range when a beam of mana the width of one of the train cars flashed in the distance and crashed into the fallen train.

The pressure from the resulting explosion knocked me to my knees. Mara was helping me up a moment later, while Vermillion wrenched Sera to her feet. Then we were running again.

I tried not to think about how many people were still on that train while metal and glass melted into slag.

“This is…do we have a plan?” Mara asked.

“Crystal shrine,” Vermillion explained. “It isn’t far. Theas is setting up there.”

That was a half-explanation, at least. It might have meant that Elora was setting up defenses around a shrine to make it a defensible location, or it might have meant that she was getting people inside the shrine. Depending on the nature of the shrine itself, I knew that meant that it might be usable as a defensible location…but I doubted the crystal within would appreciate being involved in warfare.

She might have an existing rapport with one of them, or the nation of Valia might.

I didn’t bother to question it further out loud. My efforts were focused on running, and during the run, trying to sort through the items and resources I had available. Patrick’s shield sigil had been left on the train, so I handed one of my own to Vanniv to pin it onto Patrick while they moved.

While we moved, Sera ran closer to me. “Can you spare mana?”

I nodded, grabbing her hand and giving her a recharge.

In a new trick I didn’t have time to think about, she summoned a second copy of Vanniv.

“We need an aerial scout,” she told him.

“Noted, going.” The second Vanniv flew upward.

I heard more explosions behind us, but in spite of the terror and tension, we made it to the shrine without directly coming into any more combat.

The first thing I saw was a massive black pyramid surrounded by twenty-foot-tall golems. I mistook this for the shrine itself at first, before seeing an unfamiliar attuned standing outside conjuring more blocks of that stone, which someone else was shifting into a line of pillars.

We found Elora near the entrance.

“Vanniv, take Patrick in, the healer’s tent is on the left side,” Elora commanded. Vanniv gave a quick glance at Sera, to which she nodded, before heading inside. “Are the rest of you intact? Good. Sera, you’re with me. Mary, Vermillion, we’ll have a tower for you shortly. Corin, you’re on cannon construction.”

“I…haven’t actually built cannons before.”

“Well, then today will be a learning experience.”

“…And me?” Mara asked, her voice small.

“Remove your self-pity, first off.” Elora considered. “How well can you use Patrick’s sword?”

A series of emotions rapidly flashed across Mara’s face. “…I’ve borrowed it before.”

“Good enough. You,” Elora gestured inward, “get to go borrow it again. Get familiar with it.”

“And then?” Mara asked.

“And then, you get to see if you’re good enough to reflect siege-level spells with it.”

Mara hesitated. “What if I can’t?”

Elora gave her a helpless shrug. “Well, then you probably won’t live long enough to be embarrassed, now will you?”

Chapter VIII – Base Defense

I stepped into the hastily constructed fortress, finding a dozen attuned already at work on defenses. A quick gesture from Elora as she walked by with Sera sent me in the right direction, where I found a few unfamiliar Enchanters setting up around a gigantic metal rod.

“Is this the cannon we’re supposed to be working on?” I asked.

“Sure is,” a well-dressed woman responded. She wore a tattered business suit with runes around the collar and sleeves. She looked about Derek and Elora’s age, with a Citrine-level Enchanter mark gleaming brightly on her forehead. It was a bit of an unusual design — maybe an older version, or one with a specialization mark?

Probably both, I realized. She probably got her attunement in the last set, but also got a specialization. Neat.

Either way, it was interesting to see someone else with a mark like mine, but I didn’t have a chance to comment on it.

“Sylvia Sanctum. Good to have you. You do anything like this before?”

“Corin Cadence. And no, haven’t done anything with siege weaponry. Shouldn’t a cannon be hollow?”

“The new Lord Cadence himself!” She laughed. “Heard a great deal about you. My brother was in one of your classes — he’s a big fan of yours.”

“Uh, thanks?” I smiled as best I could. “Glad to hear it. The cannon?”

“Oh, right.” She blinked. “Ones using hard munitions are hollow. This is more like a giant dueling cane.”

Oh, that’s much easier.

“Got it. I’ve worked on plenty of those. Is there a schematic?”

“No, we’re working from scratch. What levels are you?”

I wasn’t exactly sure what I should say. “Uh, an outlier. Sunstoneish with two attunements, but only one of them is currently usable. Overuse. I can Enchant, but it’s—”

“A Sunstone is fine.” Sylvia nodded amiably. “Sit down and watch us on the first one, then you can help us with the second.”

I nodded. There wasn’t anywhere to literally sit, so I simply took a few steps back and observed the other Enchanters work. With three of them on the process, enchanting the siege weapon didn’t take too long, but I noticed some inefficiencies that I thought I could assist with on the second project.

I kept glancing back at the entrance. Every minute or two, I heard the thump of something impact against the black walls of the pyramid, but they held against whatever assault was being thrown at them.

While I observed the enchanting process, I got a better look at the area around us. The “medical tent” wasn’t a literal tent, just a hastily thrown together pavilion with several wounded on makeshift beds that had seemingly been conjured from the same stone as the pyramid, then covered in some kind of padding.

There was a square structure in the center of the pyramid made out of a different type of stone — pure white — with a silvery door. I presumed that to be the entrance to the actual shrine. There was some kind of iconography involving two people holding torches etched into the doors, but I couldn’t get a good look from my angle. I could sense that the mana saturation was extremely high, but I couldn’t quite tell what type it was.

More people were ushered into the structure periodically, but even as the numbers grew, I knew they couldn’t represent more than a small fraction of the people who had been on the train. I tried not to think about that too much.

Once, a massive blast of some kind managed to shake the entire pyramid, and I saw several people rush outside in response, but Sylvia just snapped her fingers when she saw me staring.

“Eyes here. The front-liners will handle the attacks. We need to do our part here.”

It was certainly a traditional Enchanter approach to combat, and I couldn’t argue — even with my unusual attunements, I wasn’t going to be able to handle whatever was throwing around blasts on a scale that they were capable of tossing around half of a massively enchanted train. Whatever had hit us was either a high-powered enemy siege weapon or a direct attack from an Emerald-level offensively focused attuned. Even if all my abilities were functional, I couldn’t repel an attack of that magnitude…but maybe, with the other Enchanters, I could put together something comparable to fire back.

After they finished the first cannon, I got to help on the second. By that point, we had two more Enchanters from the train watching. Working collaboratively on an Enchanting project wasn’t my usual style, but it wasn’t difficult, either. I was assigned a segment of the next pole to etch, then instructed to make containers to be filled with mana. None of the Enchanters present had enough mana to fill the all the runes for a powerful siege weapon on our own; instead, we were making Citrine-level containers, then the completed weapons were being passed on to others to charge. None of us had the experience needed to make Emerald-level containers. I might have been able to manage one or two if I’d tried, but it would have both raised questions about my abilities and burned through too much of my mana, so I didn’t push for it.

As we finished each makeshift cannon, someone carried them over to another newly set up station, where I heard a familiar voice coordinating charging the containers —

Lars.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized he’d not only survived, but that he was present. Elora’s presence brought the comfort that came from someone powerful, but Lars…something about knowing he was around made me feel more secure. He wasn’t the strongest attuned there, nor was he the only battlefield veteran by any stretch. I hadn’t even been in combat with him before, but he…he felt safe.

After the fourth cannon was finished, I saw the first one being floated upward, while the black stone conjuring attuned created a stairway to part of the pyramid, then a gap to slot the rod in. A section of the black stone was replaced with a small transparent window of thick crystal, then someone conjured a makeshift chair and blast shield around the position, where an attuned sat behind the cannon.

Another finger-snap drew my attention back to work on the next cannon, but it was good to see our project being put to work.

I kept working until my mana pool was dry, then they rotated another of the newly arrived Enchanters in to take my place.

While I rested, I went to check on Patrick and found him asleep. His body was covered in fresh bandages, but only a few of them seemed to be bloodstained, which was a good sign. His pallor was looking much better, too. As expected, his sword was missing from his hip — Mara must have taken it, as Elora had instructed, but I didn’t see Mara anywhere nearby.

I checked to see if I could do anything mundane to help at the medical station, but they didn’t need any untrained hands at that moment, so they sent me off. I found Sera exiting the only actual tent inside the fortress structure, which I assumed to be where the military leadership was setting up.

“Corin, good. Do you have more mana?” she asked when she spotted me.

I winced. “Burned through most of it, but I could drain more items?”

“If you can do so without risking yourself, I need it. Going to set up another copy of the crystal.”

I nodded in understanding. I knew how valuable a copy of a gateway crystal could be during a siege. “I can do that. Where are we doing it?”

“This way.” She led me to a back corner of the pyramid. “Any anti-scrying stuff in your bag?”

“Not much. I have the void emitters, but they’re not really great for anti-scrying. I had everything else set up on the train. I could go back—”

“Absolutely not. We may send out salvage operations eventually, but only if the attackers leave, and that’s unlikely. We’re more likely going to stay here until—”

A blast shook the pyramid again. Sera and I both flinched, but the building held.

Sera’s hands clenched and unclenched in the air, then she visibly refocused. “The front quarter or so of the train is still moving on to the station. After they arrive, we can start evacuating this place to the train station.”

“Why not just teleport people now?” I asked.

“Can’t. You need one of three things to be able to teleport somewhere — either a memory of being there before to focus on, direct line of sight, or an anchor powerful enough to teleport to.”

“And the train station doesn’t have a permanent anchor set up? That seems like a pretty big oversight.” I continued to pull items out of my bag while we talked, trying to find ones that would be compatible with charging the crystal, or that I could draw mana from to recharge myself. I’d already burned through the mana in my regeneration bracers, but I still had about half my batteries available.

“No, it’s deliberate. They don’t want random people being able to teleport in whenever they want. Not only is it a security concern, it would interfere with business if there were reliable teleportation points along the train route. It’s likely that there actually are anchors, but they’re probably set up in some way that only the owners — Haven Securities — can access them. The important part is that we don’t have an accessible teleportation point there yet, but the train’s survivors do have anchors with them, and they can set one as soon as they arrive.”

“Might be faster to communicate to the train station that it’s an emergency and that we need an anchor set up?”

“It’s been tried. They’re not responding.”

“…Which could mean that the station has been overrun by the same people attacking us. Or compromised.”

“Right.” Sera nodded. “We have fallback plans if the station isn’t safe or accessible. Elora has flying summons carrying anchors in several directions, looking for locations to set up. A few other Summoners are doing the same, but we’re limited in what we can summon safely right now.”

“Why?”

“Depending on the situation, certain summoned monsters may switch sides.”

I blinked. “Is that possible?”

“Hypothetically. We’re in uncharted territory. The enemy army has a visage, we don’t. Katashi can order any summon to do anything, if he’s physically present. I doubt he’s on the field here — frankly, if he was attacking us directly, we’d have died immediately — but he may have deputized people with that power. So, we’re being cautious about which summons we’re deploying.”

“And the transcendence gateway crystal doesn’t answer to Katashi. Okay, that makes sense. Ready for me to charge you?”

She nodded. “Go for it.”

I had to recharge my own Arbiter attunement pool first by pulling grey mana out of a battery, then passed it on to her. My hand burned from the effort — I’d gone through nearly my entire mana pool three times in less than an hour, which was about the most I could do safely in a whole day.

Fortunately, once Sera had enough mana to summon the Transcendence Gateway Crystal, I didn’t have to drain myself further — I could just transfer mana directly from the assorted batteries into the crystal, which was much less taxing on my attunement. It still burned to use the attunement at all, but it was nowhere near as bad.

“Keep charging the crystal, I’m going to start gathering people who don’t have any use for their mana to make mana donations.”

Sera left me with the crystal, and I kept working on charging it further. More and more people came by at Sera’s instruction, and I explained how to transfer their mana to the crystal. Fortunately, that didn’t require any work on my part — they just had to put their hand on the crystal and push their mana into it, much like filling a container rune. The crystal was able to facilitate the rest of the process.

We had dozens of people to contribute mana, but most of them were lower-level attuned who didn’t have combat-focused attunements. There were a few higher-levels among the walking wounded who were deemed too injured to fight directly, but capable of moving enough to come contribute mana. Patrick, unfortunately, was not among them — he was still hurt badly enough that they were keeping him asleep to recover.

Sera eventually came back to check in after the people coming to contribute mana had slowed to a trickle. “How much are we up to?”

[I have eleven thousand, four hundred, and eighty-two mana available at this time.] The summoned crystal’s voice, if one can call it that, echoed clearly in my mind.

“Hm. Just shy of an Emerald. Don’t suppose you could drain Selys-Lyann in there and push us over the top, Corin?”

I hadn’t even considered that, but with Thorn still…missing…it wasn’t a terrible idea. “I’m not going to drain the sword completely, but yeah, I can push us over twelve thousand.”

I drained mana from my sword into the crystal, focusing specifically on draining the stored spirit mana in the blade, but without touching the mana from the pommel jewel. That had a massive mana reserve, but I worried that it was connected to Thorn’s consciousness, and I wasn’t willing to risk that. I also didn’t transfer the ice mana from the sword, since it wasn’t a compatible type for the crystal.

“What’s the plan for all this mana?” I asked.

[I, too, would like to know the plan for this mana.]

“A single Emerald-level combatant would significantly improve our overall chances of surviving here. We have three Emeralds here, but the rest are either still on the train or…lost. Elora is already burning through her mana rapidly on summons. Our second Emerald is a Wayfarer that will be used for evacuation. The third is a Mender, which is incredibly fortunate for our wounded, but…”

“No front-liners.” I frowned. “You planning to conjure a crystal Ker—”

“Ssh.” Her finger went up and I went silent. “No anti-divination defenses right now. Don’t talk about capabilities like that. And no, we’re not doing that yet, unless it’s absolutely necessary. It’s the kind of trick we’re only going to be able to pull once, and we may need to utilize that at a later time during the war.”

I was briefly confused when she said “trick,” before realizing. An Emerald-level copy of Keras wasn’t just a potentially deadly fighter — if he was convincing enough to come across as being the real Keras, there was a possibility he could stop an entire battle simply by being there. Sera was right — that was the type of move we needed to save.

…Assuming, of course, we had the resources to survive without him.

[You will require another high-level fighter to serve as a distraction, then, as well as to serve on the battlefield directly.]

“I don’t suppose you have an Ishyeal Dawnsglow available?” Sera asked.

[Unfortunately, I am not permitted to conjure copies of Ishyeal Dawnsglow for military purposes.]

…Huh. That implies the crystal does have a copy of him.

“Noted. Let’s discuss other options.”

I sat down to rest my hand while we discussed several possibilities for Emerald-level combatants, until finally we settled on a copy of an Emerald-level Guardian, Malik Beaufort, that had retired a few years earlier. Malik hadn’t been on the train, but he was still alive in Valia, so his presence on the battlefield wouldn’t seem impossible. Of course, if we were being scryed on, which was very plausible, they’d know he was fake — but we’d still have another Emerald-level front line fighter.

Moreover, Malik’s area of expertise was protection magic, the compound mana type that Guardians could learn to utilize. Many Guardians, Mara included, tended to focus more on enhancement, especially early in their careers — but protection magic was extremely useful for siege-style situations like this one.

As soon as Malik was conjured and briefed on the situation, he headed to the command tent, then quickly left the pyramid with a squad of five attuned. I saw a flash as he conjured a barrier dome over the entire pyramid, providing another layer of defense. That was the last I saw of him — after raising that potent shield, his job was to go straight for whoever was hurling siege-level attacks at us.

From the lack of attacks battering our defenses for the next hour, I took it that they found their target.

From the fact that they didn’t return…

I hoped that they’d survived, at least.

More attacks resumed against our fortifications later in the day, eventually punching through the mana barrier, but nothing ever completely breached the stone. Every time our newly made mana cannons fired, there was a lag in the response from our attackers. The cannons were sending some of them scrambling. Without access to the command area, I had no idea how we were doing in a more general sense, how many attackers we faced, or what our timeline was — but it wasn’t my job to know that.

Mara returned to the pyramid in the middle of the night, battered and bloodied, with Bright Reflection slick with blood in her hand.

When I rushed toward her, she managed to lift the sword with a thumbless hand, smiling blisteringly bright at me. “Thought your overcharged war cane trick was mean, but it turned out to be good practice. That one…that hurt. Bet it hurt that turtle a lot more than it hurt me, though.”

…Turtle?

She didn’t have a chance to clarify before her legs went limp. I barely caught her before she hit the ground.

Chapter IX – Green Gems

After carrying Mara to the medic area, I ran back to pick up Bright Reflection — which she’d dropped while she collapsed. When I returned, I found a medic going through her pouches.

“Um…”

“Looking for her thumb. Sometimes people — ah, here.”

I winced as the medic pulled Mara’s severed thumb out of her bag. It was a little gruesome, but I was relieved that she had it, at least.

“Can you reattach it?”

“We’ll find out soon. She with you?”

I nodded. “One of my team, and a friend.”

“Anything I should know about prior injuries before I treat her?”

I took a minute to explain what I knew about her lost hand and other previous wounds, then headed off to check in with Sera.

After a bit more rest, I tried to help with another cannon, but they wouldn’t let me do any enchanting after I’d burned through my mana so many times in one day already. I was relegated to just carving runes, which was fine at first, but my hand started trembling after another hour of work. At that point they simply sent me away.

Following that, Sera sent me to another tent to clean myself off — it had been set up at some point when I hadn’t been paying attention. I was still in my bloodstained pajamas from the morning, and I found several makeshift showers inside the tent. I used one to rinse off, then changed into a different outfit from my bag, moved my remaining shield sigil, and came back to find a large group gathering near the center of the pyramid. Elora was speaking.

“The train arrived at the station to find it garrisoned by an enemy force. Fortunately, the majority of our Emeralds were on the front of the train, and the enemy force was quickly overwhelmed. We’ve retaken the station.”

A ragged group of cheers went up from the assembled survivors, but Elora raised a hand.

“It was easy — possibly too easy. We’re concerned about traps or more assassins. So, they’re sweeping the station before we start transporting—”

Another explosion rocked the walls, this one sending chunks of black stone raining from the ceiling of the pyramid. Several attuned sprang into action immediately, moving the chunks in mid-air to prevent them from hitting anyone, but the atmosphere had shifted.

“Never mind,” Elora said. “I’ll inform them the situation has changed. Pack your things. We’re getting out of here.”

***

I didn’t like the idea of being teleported by someone unfamiliar, but I didn’t have a lot of other options. I would have preferred for Elora to handle it, even if I didn’t trust her fully. She clearly had her own schemes, not the least of which was connected with Tristan in ways I didn’t fully understand. Nevertheless, she was one of the most effective combatants present, as well as largely handling strategic operations for the defense of the pyramid.

Instead, we were directed to a Wayfarer. I insisted — with what little authority I had — that Patrick, Mara, Sera, and myself be transported as one group. Fortunately, when I revealed that Patrick was my retainer and held an Emerald vote, that was more than enough to get us transported together.

To avoid extra teleportation cost, Sera briefly dismissed Vanniv. We physically carried Patrick, who remained unconscious. It wasn’t necessary for long — we gathered in the chalk-etched circle to designate people being teleported with several others, then the Wayfarer cast his spell, and we moved.

I felt the familiar and abrupt lurch as we moved. Fortunately, there was no obvious betrayal at that stage. We found ourselves surrounded by a group of heavily armed people, but I recognized a few of them immediately. While Mara shifted instantly into a defensive posture, the sight of the stopped train nearby told me we’d arrived in the right place.

“We’re safe and stable here for the moment,” an unfamiliar woman in a Valian military uniform instructed us. “Please step to the side to make room for the next teleportation group. If you’re capable, please see Darren Cade — he’s the one with the eyepatch — and have your name checked against our list so we can get a proper head count for survivors.”

Sera and I carried Patrick’s limp form out of the circle, then Sera hastily resummoned Vanniv to help carry Patrick. No one seemed startled by the summoning — these were virtually all experienced attuned, and Patrick wasn’t the only wounded. There was another medical area set up at the train station. We had our names added to the survivors list with Darren, then moved Patrick to the next medical station.

Mara stayed with Patrick, while Sera quickly integrated herself with the people running operations. At one point she winced, then reported that her summoned copy of the transcendence crystal had been destroyed. With Patrick resting, she sent her recently summoned Vanniv out to scout, then conveyed information to the leadership.

I…had less to do. My mana had been drained too recently, and while I desperately wished to contribute, I knew that I was already risking causing myself damage by pushing myself too many times in one day.

I wish I knew how to use Thorn’s spirit art properly. I hate being this useless.

I wasn’t the only one who was drained beyond usefulness, of course. That was both normal and expected in this sort of scenario — but that didn’t mean I’d settle for having this sort of problem indefinitely.

I’ll have to see if someone at the council can teach me more about spirit arts. Just…have to get there.

After that, it was painful waiting.

My heart still hammered from the excitement of the battle, but no further conflict came immediately — not on our end, at least. As more groups of survivors teleported through, I saw growing numbers of wounded. The last group, which included Elora herself, looked positively ragged. Elora’s hair was uncharacteristically askew, with a bloody gouge trailing down the right side of her face. She stumbled as she arrived, then limped toward the command center.

Proper healers rushed to her and the other wounded immediately, so I didn’t have anything to do there, either. Instead, I found Sera in the position she’d taken atop one of the hastily conjured walls around the train station, then let her know Elora was back and injured.

“Good,” Sera said. “Not that she’s wounded, of course, but that she made it. She’s one of the highest-value targets here. Truthfully, I’m surprised she stayed at the shrine as long as she did.” She frowned. “She has something to prove, likely to herself. That’s dangerous, given the circumstances. I’ll need to talk to her privately.”

“Guilt over leaving so quickly during the fight with Mizuchi?” I remembered how she’d coordinated a powerful strike with Meltlake, then fled. I didn’t exactly blame her for that, but it was self-preservation in a time when she could have potentially contributed more than anyone aside from Meltlake herself.

“No, she’d probably think that was the right move. That’s what makes this concerning. It’s because of what Derek did. He gave himself up to save me, and now she has to do more.”

“You think she’s being selfless — or trying to look selfless — as a form of competitiveness?”

“Essentially. She wouldn’t phrase it that way, but…” Sera shook her head. “I’ll talk to her at some point. But for now, she’s going to be handling more important matters. I expect that the people in charge here are going to try to get us marching north soon, and that’s going to be a mess. We can’t stay here, but it’s going to be difficult to establish a safe route, especially with wounded. You should rest while you can. We’re not going to get much sleep until we find another defensible location…and that might be a while.”

***

I did not, in fact, sleep. Maybe there was a skill for being able to fall asleep while one of your closest friends is in dire medical condition and you’re waiting to be ambushed by enemies at any time, but it was not one that I possessed.

I tried to sit and just rest, but that didn’t work, either. After a few minutes, I checked on Patrick. He was still in a magically induced sleep to recover, but he was looking physically better.

After that, I wandered around the train station to find a quiet spot to sit and panic quietly. I found a nice little nook hidden under one of the pedestrian bridges designed to go over the tracks. Ordinarily, the idea of sitting anywhere near train tracks would have felt overly dangerous — I didn’t relish the idea of being hit by an unexpected train — but given that there wouldn’t likely be any more of them departing Valia for weeks or months, I thought I was pretty safe.

I wasn’t expecting someone to find me as quickly as they did.

It wasn’t Sera’s odd ability to predict my personality quirks that led someone to me, nor was it the concern of one of my friends or allies. It probably wasn’t magical tracking.

Instead, when a familiar figure hopped down from the pedestrian bridge, landing from the thirty-foot drop without any sign of discomfort from the impact — and no clear impact sound, actually — she looked briefly startled when she scanned the area and found me.

I blinked at Mary Hawthorne. She blinked back on me. “…Sorry. Didn’t realize this hiding spot was taken.”

I was about to comment on how it wasn’t a hiding spot, when I realized that was exactly what it was. Rather than being ashamed, I just felt resigned. “Eh.” I patted a spot next to me. “Room for two, as long as you don’t talk too much.”

Her eyes narrowed, then she glanced from side-to-side. “Deal.”

***

We were quiet for a while after that, backs against the stone support pillar for the bridge. I had the occasional intrusive vision of the bridge suddenly collapsing on top of us from some kind of magical artillery strike, but I managed to push that image aside by reminding myself that this spot wasn’t any less safe than any other part of our makeshift fortification.

I could be obliterated immediately no matter where I sat, so why bother worrying?

Mary held up her side of the deal, but kept fidgeting, changing positions repeatedly. Neither of us had enough trust for the other to close our eyes, so the silence didn’t really help. Eventually, she pulled a tiny green gemstone out of her pouch and rolled it between her fingers, practicing some kind of mundane magic trick or dexterity exercise.

I pulled out a book for a little while, flipping to the middle. Which one didn’t matter. I must have tried to read the same page five or six times before turning to the next one to look like I was making progress.

Finally, I let it close, shoving it back in my dimensional bag and turning to Mary. I focused, seeing her — another student my age, one of the only others who was powerful, or perhaps foolish, enough to stand up to Mizuchi during the Winter Ball — looking just as helpless and lost as I was.

And, feeling a sense of absolute exhaustion settling in, I braced myself as I asked a question that had been playing in my mind. “So,” I gestured to the tiny stone she was playing with, “is that an emerald?”

“It isn’t,” she said, “but it’s meant to look like one. You see a green gemstone, naturally you think of an emerald, at least in our culture.” Seeing the question in my expression, she continued. “I fiddle with things when I’m thinking. In this case, I picked something that felt…thematically appropriate.”

“You thinking about making yourself look like an Emerald for the council?”

She nodded. “More like I’m thinking about asking you to help me with it.”

“…What makes you think I can help with something like that?”

She chuckled. “No need for the deflection. I’m close with House Theas. I’m aware of what you did to your father — and, for what it’s worth, I agree with it. But more relevant to this conversation, I’m aware of what that implies you can do with attunements in general.”

I felt a little annoyed that House Theas was apparently giving away details about my capabilities without my permission, but I supposed I’d have to get used to that sort of thing if I was going to continue associating with political powerhouses. Elora had always come across as more ambitious than Derek, and I’d chosen to work with her, at least for the moment.

Chosen might be a loose word for what happened, I considered, but it’s not like I have better options at this moment. As long as she appears to be genuinely looking after Valia’s best interest…which, for the moment, I think she probably is.

“I’d prefer you keep that information to yourself.”

“Of course. The more people who know, the less effective it will be if you do something like what I’m proposing. Even other Valians would be…displeased. Especially certain factions.”

“…And what faction would you be associated with?” I asked carefully. I hadn’t been paying enough attention to that sort of thing before — and it was clearly a major gap in my knowledge. I couldn’t continue to press forward in ignorance, especially given the high probability that what had started on the train had involved some degree of internal sabotage.

And, of course, the whole Sons of Valia incident was still fresh in my mind.

“House Theas, of course. If you’re asking about things beyond that, well…you’d have to pose that particular question to Elora. I think you already have some ideas as to who she’s worked with over the years, given your own family, but it isn’t my place to say.”

So, Mary seems to know about Tristan, too. Or my mother. Or she’s just cold reading and saying things that are general enough that anyone would read something into them.

I hated dealing with this kind of maneuvering, but it wasn’t unfamiliar. I’d grown up with it, after all. “Sure. I’ll ask Elora for details at some point, when she isn’t overwhelmingly busy. And as for your request, my answer will be contingent on what I get from her.”

“Of course.” She nodded. “Thanks for considering. And…sorry to disrupt your rest. I wasn’t sure if I should ask anything, and I was debating, but…”

“It’s fine. In fact…while I have you here, let me ask you a question of my own.”

“Oh?” Mary gave me a quizzical look. “What sort of question? I’m a good student, but I’m primarily a fighter, not a scholar. That was…”

She trailed off, not wanting to complete her thought.

I winced. I’d probably reminded her of her dead friend again. I really needed to stop that, but it was extremely difficult to discern when a random comment might set off a thought process for someone else that didn’t think the same way I did.

Still, I needed to be better. And the first part of that was getting her mind on something else, namely the subject I’d intended to ask about in the first place. “You’re a specialist in banishment magic, aren’t you? I was wondering if you might tell me a bit about it.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “Is that all? It’s pretty straightforward, really. You don’t already know?”

“Only at the most basic level. Most banishment magic is used to return people or other entities to where they came from. Elementals to their home plane, that sort of thing. I know it also can be used to return spire monsters to their spire of origin, in the rare case that they’re outside.”

“Ah. Is that what this is about?” She paused, leaning back a little. “Mizuchi, right? The Winter Ball?”

It wasn’t what I was thinking about, actually. I’d been hoping to subtly glean some information about Thorn without giving away exactly what had happened. I wasn’t sure how much she already knew. She was clearly close with Elora, but I didn’t know what level of trust that entailed, or how much information she’d been given. Truthfully, I wasn’t even sure how much Elora knew about the whole Thorn situation.

That said, I was genuinely curious about what had happened with Mizuchi, and I could inquire about that without raising suspicion. “That’s one example of what I’m interested in, yes. During the ball, you were firing those arrows of light at her, which she caught. Were those arrows intended to send her back home?”

“Nothing so grand as that.” Mary sighed. “I didn’t have any hope of having that kind of effect on someone as powerful as she was. Instead, those were using another function of banishment magic — mana banishment, rather than personal banishment.”

I blinked. “Mana banishment? Meaning…returning mana to its home plane of existence?”

“Yep. Arrows and other projectiles usually aren’t good at dealing with shrouds. Mana banishment arrows, however, are near-perfect counters for typical shroud-based defenses. As they hit any form of mana that’s still in an energy state, they send that energy back to the home plane. This isn’t foolproof, mind you. The mana they’re passing through still has a moment to affect the arrow before it’s banished, and the arrow still has a limited banishment mana supply to work with, both of which can mean that a powerful enough defense — or a defense of a specialized type, like an earth-type shroud that can’t be easily dispelled — will stop the arrow. It was, however, the best tool I had to work with to try to burn through Mizuchi’s defenses.”

“So…you weren’t trying to beat her, but…”

She nodded. “I was burning through some of the mana from her shrouds with each shot, even when she grabbed them. That made her more vulnerable to attacks from others.”

“How did you know she had multiple shrouds?” I asked.

“I didn’t until I saw the effects of my first arrow passing through the shrouds. I have a lot of experience with watching banishment mana interact with other mana types, and I could see what was happening as it passed through them. When I took the first shot, I just thought she’d have one big shroud. Really, it didn’t change my strategy. The best I could hope to do was wear her down for the Emeralds and Citrines to do something more significant.”

I nodded in understanding. “Fair. What would have happened if an arrow would have actually hit her?”

“Hm. Tough to say. My arrows are…special, but I still don’t know if they would have beaten any passive defenses on her body. Her shroud was just the start. Her durability is absurd. Hypothetically, if one had gotten through, it might have dispersed some of her internal mana supply, lowering her actual available mana to use. Of course, for someone like Mizuchi, it would have been like draining a single drop out of a bucket.”

“That makes sense.” I frowned. “Okay. And a more powerful effect, like the ritual used to banish Mizuchi…that would have both sent her home and drained her mana?”

“Yeah. Still…trying to wrap my head around how Professor Vellum did that.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I just assumed that was a high-level Abjurer thing?”

“No Abjurer I’m aware of can do anything like what she did. That ritual circle might have been some kind of Enchanter thing to help boost the effect, but…” Mary shook her head. “I don’t think it was just that. Did you catch her incantation? You were nearby, right?”

I couldn’t deny that. “Yeah. Something about the stars. I thought it was just flowery incantation stuff at the time, but do you think there was something to it?”

“Might be. Pre-Attunement Era sorcerers used to…never mind, I’m getting off topic. No, I’m not sure what she did.”

“But it was basically just a super powerful banishment spell, right?”

“Sure, in the same way that melting a lake might be called a ‘super powerful fire spell’. It’s reductive. There was more going on there.”

“…Okay. I can look into that sometime, but…the effect. Someone mentioned that a spell like that would make the banished target weaker?”

“Who mentioned that?”

I thought back. “Elora, I think? Or Derek, maybe? Been a while.”

“Ah, sure. They’d obviously know.”

Once again, I felt like she was trying to…feel something out, maybe. I wasn’t sure what it was, though, and I wasn’t sure I was worried about it.

“How would that work, exactly? I’m guessing the spell both returns them to their home and drains their mana, but I don’t see how that would cause weakness for more than, you know, however long it takes to get mana back.”

“Ah. That gets into some trickier material. A couple factors.” She took a breath. “First is simple enough — when you’re as strong as Mizuchi, getting a large part of your mana back can take a long time, even inside a spire.”

“Oh. Right. She’s supposed to have hundreds of times an Emerald’s mana in her true form, so…yeah, that could take a while. Okay, I can see that part. But that wouldn’t actually make her weaker, aside from maybe…wait, does banishment cause strain, in the way that using mana deliberately does?”

Mary laughed. “You didn’t really need to ask me anything, did you? You got it on your own.”

“Well, I couldn’t know if I was right without asking. But is that really all there is to it?”

“Strain might be underselling it a little, but the core concept is right. A banishment spell that drains someone’s mana down to the minimum safe values isn’t just like exercising to that point…it’s like pulling the mana out of them forcefully. You remember what they said in class about star veins and Dianis Points, right? It takes a lot of power, but powerful banishment spells are one of the only ways to hurt those. You can even temporarily damage the connections between layers of self.”

That made a lot of things click together. “And Mizuchi is a serpent. Her true strength is in her full-sized serpent form, which is a separate body she keeps on the spirit plane, like dragons do. It’s another layer of self, and the banishment spell might have interfered with her connection with it…yeah, that’d be a significant hit to her power.”

“…Okay, I have to know why you’re mentioning dragons.”

I coughed. “Sorry. First heard about the spirit body thing from…a friend, I guess. You’ve heard of Keras Selyrian?”

Her lips twitched upward in delight. “Oh, yes. I’ve heard of Keras Selyrian.”

“Well, uh, let’s just say he told me some stories about dragons.”

Mary laughed. “Of course he did. I’d love to hear those stories myself sometime, if you’re willing.”

It was a subtle thing, but I think she shifted a little closer to me when she said that. I didn’t mirror the gesture, but I didn’t pull away, either.

It was possible she was flirting with me, but at the moment, I simply didn’t have the energy to care one way or another. I was too tired. “I’ll have to think about what he’d be okay with me sharing. Sorry. I’m…not great with dealing with secrets and politics and…”

“You’re going to get eaten alive by the Emerald Council if you think of yourself like that. Work on your confidence, Cadence.”

I sighed. “That’s…a work in progress.”

She nodded. “That’s all any of us can do, really. Just…keep working on getting better. One day at a time.”

“One day at a time.”

We were silent for a bit.

“Should, I go?” Mary asked. “You look like you might need some space.”

I pondered, then shook my head. “You can stay. But…let’s just sit for a bit, if you don’t mind. The council…it’s going to be a lot of talking. Too much talking. I think I need a break.”

“Understood. And…thank you.”

I opened a book. She went back to playing with her little rock for a bit, then eventually withdrew a book from some kind of extra dimensional space. And finally, after an hour or two, we heard the announcement —

It was time to go. Teleportation jumps were being arranged…and the Emerald Council awaited us.

Chapter X – The Emerald Council

It took several more stomach-churning teleportation jumps to reach our destination. I’d say I barely recognized the location, but that would be overly extreme, given that Warren Constantine’s personally constructed spire was impossible to mistake for anything else. Still, the surrounding area was so different that it was hard to believe that it was sitting in the same part of the Unclaimed Lands.

A half-mile wide area around the tower was now ringed by smooth stone that curved inward, like we were in the midst of a gigantic cup. A single path led through the walls, and though we’d circumvented that barrier via teleportation, that didn’t mean we’d ended up in an undefended area. Closer to the tower, I could see dozens of pavilion tents, many of which were accompanied by national flags and pennants for various noble houses. I was less concerned with those, however, and more with our immediate surroundings.

We arrived on a massive circular platform that was surrounded by people — and monsters — wearing a wide variety of different garb, including the signature copper-colored plate mail of the Soaring Wings. Many had weapons drawn and pointed in our direction. Others had hands raised, ready for spellcasting. I was ready to throw my teleportation anchor and get the people next to me moving, but it didn’t prove necessary.

“Elora Theas and the first of the Valian delegation,” Elora announced. “We are expected.”

A dark-skinned man in a white suit trimmed in gold stepped onto the platform. “Ah, Lady Theas, excellent. We’ve heard that the Valian delegation encountered some difficulties on the way here.” He cast a quick look at some of the wounded that remained with us, including Patrick, then looked back to Elora. “Please step off the platform with your invitations at the ready. We’ll need to verify that the invitations are authentic, as well as that you are who you say you are.”

“Of course, Master Zubani. It’s an unexpected surprise to be greeted by someone of your stature.” Elora gave him a playful look that told me there was something politically relevant about that statement that I had no idea about. I saw Sera’s jaw tighten; she’d noticed something as well, but I couldn’t ask her about it right then and there. “Come, everyone. Let’s follow Master Zubani — we wouldn’t want to clutter the teleportation pad. Other guests could be arriving at any time.”

The white-suited man led us to a shaded pavilion where, still surrounded by a number of silent guards, we presented our invitations. At the same time, a woman in a similar suit with a Citrine-level aura walked up to each of us and had us present our hands. She took each hand briefly, casting a mental mana spell that resembled my Identification magic.

“No monsters in disguise, at least not within my ability to sense. No signs of shapechanging. Couple minor illusions, but nothing that appears to be for identity alteration,” she reported to Zubani.

“Good, good. Well, everything seems to be in order, then. Allow me to be the first to welcome you all to the Emerald Council.”

***

I felt more secure the moment we walked into the doors of Constantine’s spire. That was probably foolish, given that the place was presently filled with the largest gathering of Emeralds that I’d ever seen, and some of them undoubtedly would be looking for chances to kill me.

I was, after all, both an Arbiter and a Cadence. And in spite of my general tendency to not notice the political ramifications of those things, they would be impossible to ignore in this situation.

Warren himself was not immediately present in the antechamber, no doubt either busy dealing with more important guests in private meetings or secluding himself due to his…condition. I worried that this summit would make him push himself even further, using sorcery to temporarily improve his mental abilities to keep up with his obligations but then suffering more in the long run.

There has to be some way I can help him…but I suppose that isn’t my priority right now.

I didn’t recognize the majority of the people present, most of which appeared to be Caelish or Edrian if their complexion was any clue. My biggest surprise was when I did recognize someone from the former group — and she was looking right at me with unblinking eyes.

Anabelle Farren. She was in a massive reclining chair, but sitting on her feet rather than using it normally. Nakht, her personal attendant — or bodyguard, or whatever he was — hovered behind her, his eyes scanning the room while another woman talked more at him than to him. That second woman was unfamiliar to me, but the armor she wore caught my attention. It was incredibly bulky, even compared to ordinary plate mail, with absolutely massive amounts of runes etched into every component part. It looked more like a golem than a traditional armor suit…and that meant I knew what I was looking at.

Advanced Armor. She might be a representative of that division from Farren Labs, or perhaps one of their stronger fighters that has been given a suit for this event. She might be someone I should talk to about prosthetics, if I can’t find a better route to helping Mara. Even if Mara doesn’t want a prosthetic, though, she might have useful information about enchanting, but—

Farren is still staring at me.

Awkwardly, I gave her a wave.

She blinked rapidly in response, then waved back. “Hi, Alaric!”

Nakht leaned down to whisper something to her.

She frowned, then yelled, “I mean, hi, Corin!”

“…Hi,” I offered weakly, considering.

Did she just mistake me for my great grandfather? That’s…odd, even by her standards. I suppose she could have just gotten our names mixed up, since he’s so famous, but…

I didn’t get a chance to see what happened with them next — another familiar figure was greeting us a moment later.

“Welcome to the Sorcerer’s Spire. I’m pleased to see that you’ve made it here safely. I’m Len Hastings, the Master of Ceremonies for this event, as well as one of the general event organizers.”

Len — the Spirit Gateway Crystal’s copy of Lydia Hastings, one of Keras’ old companions from his homeland — looked much the same as she had when I’d seen her last. Her bright red hair was up in a bun as usual, but she wore a different outfit. A striking long-sleeved blue dueling vest with a star pattern on the sleeves complemented darker blue pants, and she wore an arming sword belted on her left hip. She also wore thick spectacles rimmed with runes, many of which I recognized as providing similar functions to my mana watch.

“A Hastings, here before the rest of us? That’s unexpected.” Elora raised an eyebrow in obvious inquiry.

“I’ll get ahead of your suspicions, Miss Theas. As the young Cadences can attest, I’m a long-term resident here, for reasons that are private and unrelated to the war effort.” Len nodded to both of us.

“I’ll confirm that,” Sera replied quickly. “It’s good to see you again, Len. Once everyone is properly settled, I believe you, Elora, and I have some shared interests that I’d love to discuss with you both.”

“Indeed?” Elora asked, seeming to appraise Len more closely. “A fellow Summoner, perhaps?”

Len tipped her head in acknowledgement. “Of sorts, but not in the way that you’re probably thinking. While I’d love to discuss that, however, I must first see to my obligations. You all must be very tired from your long journey. The Valian delegation has their own chambers. Most of the early arrivals are meeting in a sitting room at the center. You have your own kitchen, which is fully stocked, and bed chambers have been assigned based on our expectations of attendance. Each room should be large enough to accommodate your personal guests as well, and as per usual, we have additional accommodations for new Emeralds — provided their status can be properly verified, of course.”

“Of course.” Elora replied immediately. “If we did have someone to register as an Emerald, do we have a quorum to do so?”

Len shook her head. “Not as of yet. There are no representatives of Dalenos present at this time. All of the other nations have at least one representative present, but to the best of my knowledge, we only have two registered verifiers. Were you hoping to register someone?”

Elora gave her a noncommittal shrug. “Perhaps. I suppose it’s a matter of seeing if the timing is right.” She paused, seeming to think. “What about the Emerald Trials? I don’t know if you’re familiar with them, but—”

A broad smile crossed Len’s face as she adjusted her glasses. “As it happens, I’m quite familiar with them. We’re in the midst of upgrading the trial chambers right now.”

“And when do you anticipate them being ready?”

“Within the next few weeks.”

Elora frowned. “We’ll have to see if they’re still relevant by then, but…given the interference we faced on the way here, it’s very possible. Have you heard anything in regards to similar difficulties with the other delegations?”

“Indeed.” Len made an approving expression. “In fact, every single nation has reported difficulties in getting here. I anticipate it could be over a month before we have a full council.”

“That’s…quite unfortunate. But I suppose it can’t be helped, and it isn’t entirely unexpected. Dalenos and Edria don’t have railways to get them most of the way, after all.” Elora sighed. “Will you let us know as soon as the trials are ready?”

“Of course.”

“Wonderful. I will be in touch if Valia is in need of them. In the meantime, however, we’re quite exhausted from our journey, and are in need of rest.”

I shot Elora a questioning look. I hadn’t heard of any “Emerald Trials,” but from the name, I could guess what they might entail. She didn’t react to my expression in the slightest.

“Of course, we are pleased to have you.” Len nodded. “The Valian delegation is in their usual chambers. If you’ll follow me?”

Elora replied. “I’ve been here before, but it was years ago — please, lead the way.”

Len led us toward the spiral stairway that led to the upper floors. And as we followed her, Farren’s eyes stayed on me until I disappeared from her sight.

***

The “sitting room” we were guided to was much larger than I’d expected, looking more like a banquet hall. It seemed to be designed for hundreds of people, making our disheveled group of only a few dozen seem somewhat underwhelming compared to the massive numbers of seats and tables. Still, I reassured myself that we’d be filling the chamber more completely when — or really, if — the rest of the Valian delegation eventually arrived.

There were a handful of people already present in the room, some of which stood up immediately as we entered, while a couple others remained seated and simply looked in our direction. One of them ran over and hugged someone I didn’t recognize from our group, looking intensely relieved.

Valian guests of Constantine that were already here, maybe? More copies of people, like Len? Or just adventurers from Pending that were in the area?

I didn’t get any answers right away, but that was fine — none of them looked immediately hostile.

Elora immediately sat down at a table with Len, who brought out a notebook and a bunch of cards with names written on them. Sera went to sit with the two of them without asking for permission, but neither objected. I didn’t feel like dealing with whatever political maneuvering they’d get up to with something as mundane as room assignments, so I simply helped Patrick over to a table, where we sat with Mara to wait until our rooms were given out.

I saw a few other figures I vaguely recognized around the room as well. Someone who wore Elora’s house colors that I assumed was her dual-attuned cousin, Alexander Theas. A few Enchanters I’d worked with, most of which I didn’t remember directly. Sylvia Sanctum was one of the few I recalled. She seemed to be inspecting the defensive enchantments on the building walls, which was exactly the sort of thing I needed to do myself as soon as I’d rested a little.

I was looking forward to taking a moment just to breathe, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen.

Vermillion Rose, Mary Hawthorne’s usual partner, sat down at our table, cracked her neck, and unclipped her belt, tossing it on the table. The sword belt carried what looked like some kind of double-handed rapier — an estoc, maybe, but I couldn’t tell for certain without looking at the blade. It had an absurdly large red crystal on the pommel and a curved guard with a flower-like motif where the guard met the blade.

Custom-made to match her surname, perhaps? Or the other way around? Her assumed name might be more of a title based on the weapon.

“Yo.” She leaned back in the chair. “Mary’s got stuff, so I’m ‘ere.”

I blinked. “…I’m not sure I see the line of logic?”

She twitched her head at me. “Oh, we’re spyin’ on ya. Like, just a touch, though. Nothin’ mean-like.”

She flew back out of her chair a moment later, and I twitched defensively to grip my sword, but she wasn’t attacking — she’d just stood to grab something off a tray from a man who was passing by.

Oh, is this like a fancy party where there are servers with—

No, she just grabbed a muffin off some random guy’s plate.

The man — some blond-haired noble I didn’t recognize who looked a couple years our senior — blinked at her incredulously. Vermillion gave him thumbs-up, took a big bite out of the muffin she’d shamelessly snatched, then sat back down.

The noble looked like he was going to say something, then glanced at the sword lying on the table, which she’d set the muffin down next to. After a moment, he simply mumbled something to himself, then walked away.

Mara gave Vermillion a measured look. “Was that a Haven?”

“Ay-yup.” Vermillion took another bite of the muffin. “They take and they take. ‘Bout time someone starts taking back, no?”

“He could just get another muffin, there’s a whole pile of them at the buffet.” I pointed at a table in the corner.

“Sure,” Vermillion said, not bothering to stop chewing, “and he might, which will help remind him of that strange girl that so shamelessly took the first one. Burn it in.” She set the remaining half-muffin down. “S’good, too.”

“Can we get back to the spying on us part?” Patrick asked.

“Oh, s—,” Vermillion coughed, winced, and then pounded on her chest. “Sorry, ugh, something went down the wrong tube. Ugh, hate that.”

I reached for my bag to grab water, then, in a rare show of genuinely sensible precautions, realized that offering her water from my bag might be giving her a tool to track me. Instead, I fetched a cup of water from a nearby table and sat it down in front of her.

She coughed again, took a long gulp, coughed some more. “Thanks.” More coughing, then she finally seemed to right herself.

“The spying?” Patrick pried.

“Yeah, yeah. So, nothin’ too extreme, just, you know, girl’s gotta eat.” She paused, wiping her nose with her sleeve, then took another gulp from the water. “You wouldn’t happen to have your total mana levels handy? Save me a lot of work.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” Patrick frowned. “Why tell us you’re spying on us? Why ask us directly for that kind of information?”

“Ask this guy. Not as good as his sister, but he’s got a head for it when he tries.” She jerked a thumb at me.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. “There are a few common reasons people behave this way in a political gathering. The common term is ‘obfuscating gregariousness’.”

“Or obfuscatin’ buffoonery,” Rose grinned. “Less kind, though, and you picked the nice one. See, you’ve got a handle on it.”

“And the purpose?” Patrick pressed.

“Could be a few reasons,” I replied. “Usually, the behavior is to highlight something innocuous in order to distract from something larger. Like, if there’s something more important going on in another part of the room, or if she has a bigger secret, or someone else is spying on us more subtly, or—”

“Or,” Mara interjected, “she’s actually here to put us on our guard, so that we’ll notice it when someone else is spying.”

“Well, someone isn’t all toned muscles and good looks.” Rose gave Mara an exaggerated wink.

Mara, to her credit, just gave an exasperated sigh in response.

“It’s not like we weren’t already on our guard,” Patrick pressed. “We were attacked. We…” He shuddered, reaching up to his neck, which still held an angry scar from where it had been sliced by shrapnel.

“Sympathies. Healin’ after something like that is never easy. After Team Bloodline hit us, I…” Rose’s hand tightened. “Let’s just say that I didn’t let my guard down, but I wasn’t lookin’ all the right directions, either.”

Vermillion turned toward another part of the room — where the man from House Haven had just sat down with a party of well-dressed nobles that I didn’t recognize.

In a sense, I realized she had a point. My instinct was to pay attention most closely to the people I was already familiar with. Established allies and threats — people like Elora, Len, and even Lars, who I realized was conspicuously absent.

I was familiar with House Haven, of course, and I knew it was likely they had connections with the Sons of Valia, but I hadn’t really been thinking of that connection as a priority. We’d taken down Saffron, after all.

…Was Vermillion implying that there would be reprisals for that? Were the Sons of Valia, or House Haven, in a position where they’d play their hand at a gathering like this one?

I felt my shoulders tighten at the thought.

Vermillion followed my gaze, then slowly, deliberately, she lifted the muffin back to her face and took a huge bite. When she brought it back down to stare at me, she looked deadly serious, an effect that was somewhat softened by the chocolate on the tip of her nose.

“Well, think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” She nodded, then swung her feet back into a position to stand and began to push herself up…then abruptly leaned in and whispered something in Patrick’s ear that I didn’t catch.

He paled. “That’s…”

Rose swept her sword belt over the table, throwing it over her shoulder rather than tying it back off. “Be seeing you all soon.”

We stared at her as she departed, then rapidly turned to Patrick.

“…What’d she whisper?” Mara asked immediately. “Can you tell us here, or is it too dangerous?”

“Depends on what you mean by dangerous.”

Rose looked back over her shoulder toward us, giving Patrick a crooked grin.

“She asked me on a date.”

Chapter XI – Unfriendly Faces

Patrick continued to watch Vermillion closely, which was almost certainly her goal. I mean, aside from possibly wanting an actual date, which was…feasible?

He was a catch, to be certain. Strong for his age, impossibly loyal, and…one of the only people our age carrying a vote in his hands.

Oh.

That was probably her angle, but there were other options, of course. I wasn’t exactly in a position to evaluate Patrick’s viability as a romantic partner — I simply didn’t think of him in those terms — but he’d gone from being a bit heavy at the start of our first year to being built like a brick wall now, and I knew that some people found that sort of thing appealing from a conventional attractiveness standpoint.

“Corin, you’re starin’ a little hard at your retainer,” Mara pointed out.

“Oh, sorry, not staring at him. More like staring into the endless nothingness beyond existence. I do that a lot.”

Mara snorted. “We’ve noticed. But it’s gonna give people the wrong impression if they caught anything about the exchange that just happened, and if Rosie had any point at all, it’d that people are watchin’ close right now.”

“You…think people overheard that?” Patrick blushed furiously. “I…what should I say?”

“Think that rightly depends on what you want. You like it when a girl comes on strong like that?” Mara gave him a teasing look.

“Well, I don’t not like it. But, uh, woah, ulterior motives, right?”

“Yeah.” I leaned over to the middle of the table, and they both leaned in with me. “We should probably retire this conversation until we get into private quarters. She gave us a lot to discuss.”

“Also,” Mara noted, “there’s food, and we gotta eat.”

There was a rumble of agreement from someone’s stomach, and then we were all in accord. We went to the banquet tables and got to work.

The next half hour or so was a blur of eating and casual chat while I tried desperately not to feel like everyone gathered at the other tables was a threat. I noticed when Lars eventually rolled into the room, alone for a change, and went straight to Len to talk to her.

I’m out of my depth here.

I looked for Sera, finding her still seated with Elora. Mary was there, too, along with a pair in Valian officer uniforms I didn’t recognize, and a wealthy-looking nobleman that I didn’t recognize wearing absolutely absurd amounts of jewelry. A quick glance with Detect Aura showed the three unfamiliar figures registering at Citrine-level, which in this context meant there were good odds that any of them could have been an Emerald that was deliberately suppressing their shroud.

I can’t just sit here and chat. There’s too much at stake.

I took several steadying breaths, closed my eyes, and pushed myself out of my chair. “I’m going to go mingle.”

Patrick and Mara looked at me like I’d suddenly transformed into my previously unforeshadowed monster form.

“…You feeling okay, Corin?” Patrick asked kindly.

I gave a nervous laugh. “Definitely not. I haven’t felt okay for a long time. But I’ve got work to do.”

Patrick grimaced, steadied himself, and pushed him out of his chair. “Well, then. A retainer’s place is at his lord’s side.”

Mara gave a shrug. “Not a good idea to walk without support on when you’re still healin’. So, I’m going too.” She slipped her good arm under Patrick’s shoulder and he gave her a grateful — if conflicted — look. “Shall we go?”

***

My brief tour of the room wasn’t as hard as I’d expected. I was out of practice with politicking at noble parties, but I’d grown up doing similar things. It didn’t prove too difficult to put on the right mask for the occasion.

(I mean that in a figurative sense. I definitely wanted to make actual magical masks at some point — Keras had made it seem entirely too useful — but that was, unfortunately, such a low priority right now that it hadn’t even made it onto the written list. Which definitely was a real list that actually existed, and you can’t prove otherwise.)

Soon, I was fully immersed in the role of Lord Cadence, complete with one retainer and one non-quite-retainer following behind me to make the image more complete. I drifted from one table to the next, noting the handful of obvious Emeralds present and their attunements — two Guardians, a Mender, an Elementalist, and a Wayfarer — and the roughly two dozen Citrines that might have been Emeralds. I figured there were a few people that appeared even weaker that might have been hidden Emeralds, too, but I wasn’t sure.

Others were clearly making similar appraisals. I noted that the people openly wearing Emerald auras tended to remain seated and let others come to them, which made the pre-event socialization revolve around them. It made sense. By that logic, I hoped that I could identify a few other more probable Emeralds based on their behavior, and I picked out a couple that were more likely than others — in particular, someone from House Beaufort with a Citrine-level Diviner aura that seemed extremely comfortable in her seat, and a nervous-looking young man that showed a Citrine-level aura with no visible attunement mark.

He looks like he’s barely out of the academy himself. Maybe someone who got his mark early in a foreign country like Elora and Derek did?

A quiet question to one of the people I was chatting with told me that that they didn’t recognize him either. That was unusual. The young man looked Valian, but that didn’t mean anything.

Could he be a foreigner that infiltrated the Valian room? Would Elora miss something like that? She’s obviously stressed and busy, possibly even still injured…

In the meantime, aside from cataloguing the potential Emeralds, I paid attention to the houses and titles present. Notably, House Haven didn’t seem to have an Emerald present yet, but I was confident that the wealthiest house in Valia — if not the continent — had the resources for one or more Emeralds.

Unless we incapacitated or killed them all due to their affiliations with the Sons of Valia, I realized. But no, that’s not likely. They weren’t playing their hand that openly if they were involved and even someone outside of politics like me would probably would have heard about that.

Wait. House Haven funds the train stations, don’t they? And with the train being attacked…could they have been involved?

I frowned, but didn’t worry too much immediately. It was probable that House Haven’s Emerald would simply arrive later, or that the man I’d seen earlier while talking to Vermillion was an Emerald and simply a rare case of suppressing all the way down to Sunstone.

I continued chatting with people and gathering bits of information. Most discussions were focused either on the train attack or the upcoming voting. I saw Mara briefly freeze as she eyed someone on the opposite side of the room and pulled her to the side to ask.

“Baron Kent. Rupert’s father,” she said simply.

I remembered. It had been a year since she’d first told me about Kent’s father trying to…buy her from her family, essentially. My hands tightened at the memory. “…If you need to make a move, I’ll back you.”

She gave me a grateful look, then slowly shook her head. “Not the time or the place. But, uh, you may want to be ready to hold me back if he sees me and says anything. And if there’s room for ‘dueling practice’ at some point…”

I could see the fire burning in her eyes along with that line—

And I liked it. I missed it. This was the Mara that I’d been trained with.

I gave her a firm nod. “If there is, I’ll be your second.”

***

We continued making a circuit around the room for some time. I was almost grateful when Elora finally stood from her gathering and approached me directly.

“Lord Cadence, if you would attend me?”

I blinked, turning away from my inspection of the room to see the results of a rather rapid transformation.

In the hour or so since our arrival, Elora Theas had gone from disheveled and battle-worn to looking like a classical princess at a ball. She’d changed out of her torn clothes, washed away the blood that had trickled out of her nose from one — or many — too many rapid teleportation spells. She’d pulled her hair back into some kind of absurdly complex rope-like configuration, then topped it off with a ruby-encrusted crown. Her outfit was a floor-length crimson gown with golden threading and more rubies accenting the sleeves. The entire front of the dress was embroidered with a clever mixture of actual enchanting runes and what looked like gibberish symbols designed to aesthetically complement them.

I’d seen her wearing red on several occasions, but she’d really gone all-in on the look for this event. Even the Winter Ball hadn’t drawn her into wearing something quite this ostentatious, but that made sense. An academy graduation ceremony — even one attended by important nobles — was nothing in comparison to an international meeting of the strongest members of the Four Powers.

Like everything Elora did, the look was clearly calculated to accomplish several things at once. Not only was she wearing a small kingdom’s worth of wealth literally on her sleeves, but the very obvious enchantment runes on her dress were a reminder that Valia was a nation of magic. And, of course, wearing her house’s colors was a simple reminder that she was the heiress to one of the oldest houses in Valia — and descended from one of the three “immortal sorcerers” of ancient Velthryn, back in our original homeland.

She smiled magnanimously as I briefly stared at her appearance. I caught myself quickly enough, remembering myself. “Of course, Councilwoman Theas. How can I be of assistance?”

The specific title was strategically chosen, much as her outfit was. As the heiress of an archduchy, she probably had a specific courtesy title that would be used before she inherited the title of Archduchess when her father died or abdicated — something like “Duchess of the Eastern Reaches” or something more region-specific — but I didn’t know what it was. Instead, I went with something I was confident in, that still showed her significance. I knew she was one of the members of our Council of Lords, and among the highest ranked. I didn’t know if that title was as important in this environment as her personal title, but from the way her smile spread to her eyes, I suspected I’d chosen wording that pleased her.

“I was just informed that the sparring rooms have been upgraded in preparation for this gathering. I will be inspecting them. If you would follow me?”

“It would be my utmost pleasure. Please, lead the way.” I cherished the slight surprise in her expression. Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting me to agree so readily, or with such calculated phrasing. It didn’t fit with my usual persona, certainly. She’d seen me play the noble game once or twice, but I supposed she wasn’t acclimated to it.

It helped that I was genuinely interested in what she was offering. Not fighting her, of course. I’d seen how badly worn out she was an hour ago, but even with that advantage, I had absolutely no business fighting with an Emerald-level God Beast Summoner.

In spite of the implication that outsiders might have taken from her request, I was confident that Elora had no interest in simply throwing me around like a rag doll in a sparring ring. No, if there were recent “upgrades” made to the room, that meant she wanted me to inspect them with an Enchanter’s eye — or, perhaps even with an Arbiter’s knowledge.

Warren Constantine had disabled his attunements, burned them out deliberately to prevent the visages — or people like Anabelle Farren — from accessing them remotely for nefarious purposes. But he wasn’t without magic, and he certainly wasn’t without knowledge or resources. If he’d done something new for the sparring areas, I was deeply interested in knowing what it would be.

Elora led me up two levels in the tower, then to a simple wooden door with a wooden slat on the outside, along with a box containing several other slats. She removed the blank slat and replaced it with a green one, which after a moment I realized was probably some kind of indication that an Emerald was using the room. I briefly glanced at it with Detect Aura, but found nothing — it was purely a courtesy, it seemed, not a way of setting the level of defenses for the room.

A shame, I considered. That would have been an interesting idea.

She opened the door, not bothering to hold it for me as she stepped in. I followed her, closing the door behind us.

The room was, predictably, larger on the inside than the outside. I wasn’t sure if that meant we’d stepped into an extra dimensional space — I really needed to find a way of checking that — or if we’d been teleported to another location. I certainly hadn’t felt anything like the stomach-churning jolt of a teleportation effect, but short distance ones didn’t always have that sort of impact.

Constantine really is making this place with a design that emulates one of the spires, I realized. The “Sorcerer’s Spire” isn’t just a name, it’s an objective, and he’s succeeding at it — at least to some degree.

The room’s walls were plain stone, with a clearly marked ring about thirty feet in diameter in the center. There were weapon racks with non-lethal weapons hanging on the walls — practice dueling canes, blunted swords, ordinary staves. Elora made a play of inspecting the weapons, but judging from her expression, she was pointedly waiting for something. Presumably for me to do something.

So, I took a walk around the room with Detect Aura active, and I began to inspect the hundreds of runes in the room. Most were located in the central area, etched in obvious fashion around the sparring circle. The subtler ones, however, were in the surrounding walls — and those were, I suspected, what she was most interested in.

I identified what I suspected she was looking for fairly rapidly — some marks that were visibly different from the others. The same general etching style, but…written with better tools, and a hand that wasn’t quite as steady.

I felt another brief pang of concern for Warren, but it wasn’t the time to focus on that. I rapidly parsed the runes, finding several of interest — most notably a series of perception-focused dynamic runes.

So, even without an attunement, he still has some way of interacting with sub-glyphs. Assuming he did this himself, which…he probably did, even if it isn’t wise. He seems like the type that wouldn’t allow anyone else to work on the security for his house.

I wasn’t sure how safe it would be for me to inspect sub-glyphs of unfamiliar enchantments, but given that looking at my attunement had worked out okay, I was willing to experiment a little.

I took a breath and put my hand over one of the runes.

Analyze Attunement Composition.

I was flooded with information. Ordinarily, I would have used Accelerated Computation to help parse it, but that was still too much of a risk. So, I manually sorted through that rune as best I could, skimming over that rune…then repeated the process for the next, and the next, and so on.

Elora watched with a look of carefully calculated patience. After a half hour passed, she abandoned the pretense and folded her arms. “So?”

“I won’t be able to get through everything in a reasonable time, but…I think it’s safe to talk. There are some anomalies I’ve noticed — a lot more ambient mana collecting than I would expect in a place like this — but it doesn’t feel like a danger, and I don’t think it’s localized to this room. Probably as safe to talk as it’s ever been.”

“Meaning?”

I took a breath, releasing Detect Aura and wiping my forehead. “The room has classic anti-scrying defenses, anti-teleportation measures, and physical protections. Classic recharge runes for each mana type the functions are using, capacity runes for each corresponding type…those are the old enchantments. The new stuff is…complicated, but I’ve parsed through enough to glean the general intent, I think.”

“Well?”

“Some of it simply reinforces the existing defenses through a form of complex layered defense. If you’re familiar with how some monsters have multiple layers of shrouds with different elemental affinities…?”

She looked marginally surprised, but nodded rapidly. “He’s emulating that for the defenses on this room?”

“Yes, but not purely for physical protection. He has multi-element anti-scrying measures. But…that’s just the most basic protection. If I’m understanding this properly, there are complex defenses that are designed to look like they’re failing, then present a false image of what is actually happening in the room, based on…an incredibly complicated system that uses memory sorcery to replicate what has already happened, then modifying based on a pseudo-random number generator, which produces…”

“A false image of what is happening. The memory component is concerning. Does that mean he’s storing what happens here? Making crystals of it?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know for certain, but I don’t see any indication of that. If anything, the way these enchantments are designed… I think even if a Diviner walked into this room and tried to recall what had happened in here, they might get fake results. At least, that’s the intent behind it, assuming I’m understanding it properly. I don’t know if it works. I…don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone messing with memory magic like that.”

“Neither have I,” Elora admitted, much to my surprise. “Which appears to be a significant oversight that I’d never previously considered. It would appear that the lord of this tower retains a bit more of his once-vaunted genius than I’d anticipated.”

There was a tone of grudging respect. I got the distinct impression that Elora didn’t often admit that someone had come up with something she hadn’t thought of.

“Do you find that troubling?”

She seemed to consider the question, then shook her head. “No. Warren remains a possible threat, but only if he’s antagonized. He retains a stronger tie to Valia than any other nation, in spite of his ostensible neutrality. It is his birthplace, and he would not willingly see it fall. I see little to no chance that he has been compromised by a foreign power. A visage, perhaps, but if so…it would not be Katashi. Thus, while his added security increases my assessment of his personal threat level, that is not a concern in terms of these negotiations, unless it inspires escalation. If anything, it means I may need to work harder to bring him into the fold.”

“What particular fold would that be?” I carefully asked.

“Well, I suppose if you’re convinced of the defenses, this is a good a place for that conversation as any.” She snapped her fingers, producing a pair of chairs that appeared out of nowhere.

Shaper-style magic? Probably an item. Maybe one of her million gems, or the ring, or that necklace?

Either way, she took a seat in one of the chairs, and I sat in the other. I probably would have been more nervous in the past, but this was something I’d known was coming. We’d been due for a long chat for quite a while.

Apparently, Elora had the same opinion. “Now that we finally have some privacy, allow me to reintroduce myself more properly, Corin. I’m Elora Theas, heiress to the House of Theas, Emerald-level Summoner of Suzaku, and the most likely candidate for leading the Valian Council of Nobles after the…untimely death of our last leader at Mizuchi’s hands. I am, very likely, going to rule our kingdom soon. But none of that is what’s important — not to you, and not on the world scale. What you need to know is that I’m Elora Theas, traitor to the Whispers, and leader of Valia’s Godslayers.”

Chapter XII – Whispers

Elora took a moment to pause dramatically after the statement.

That was good, because I had questions, and I needed to figure out which one to prioritize. Not that I could trust her answers, but if she was being direct about this part, then maybe…

“Valia’s Godslayers? You have different regional branches?” I asked.

“Yes. We have different groups in each nation. By necessity, we compartmentalize information to ensure that even if one group falls, the others are able to continue their activities. I have contacts everywhere, but most people below my level have no knowledge of the events or plans happening elsewhere.” She frowned. “That was your first question? I was expecting a bit more…”

“Shock? Skepticism?” I shrugged. “I already know you were a part of the team that attacked Tenjin, and that there was a Whisper faction that intended to kill him. Tristan told me that he switched perspectives. I assumed that had happened beforehand, but you being affiliated with the Godslayers isn’t really a surprise. Honestly, I’m more surprised you weren’t…”

“Killed by someone who figured out my involvement? Captured and interrogated like Vera?” She shrugged. “I’m a major figure in Valia’s government, it isn’t quite that simple.”

“Surely, Katashi could have figured it out.”

“Oh, yes. I’m sure he knew exactly who was involved within minutes of the attack. He very likely showed up in the room where it happened, captured Vera and Echion, and threw a memory spell to reconstruct the event, just like you suggested a Diviner might do here. After that, he had time to figure out how to use the event to his advantage. I left the spire immediately after Tristan took Tenjin away, but Katashi found me within an hour, in spite of extreme measures to cover my tracks. We had a talk. And I may have suggested that my place in Valia’s government would be advantageous to him in the event that he chose to acquire another spire.”

“You…offered to sell out our entire nation to him?” I felt myself subconsciously making a fist at the idea.

She gave me a dubious look. “Of course I did. What else would I do? I made some moves to assist him with covering his own tracks, too. To do anything else would have been insane. If he’d wanted to kill me then and there — or in the months that followed — there was little I could have done to stop him.”

“What about going off-continent?”

“He branded me, much like he did to you. If I decided to take a boat to lovely Artinia…boom.”

I frowned. “Can I see it?”

She chuckled. “It’s on my chest, darling. You sure you’re ready for that kind of commitment to our cause?”

I sighed. “I’m asking so I can confirm your story and figure out if I could remove it for you. If you want to be playful about being shirtless, fine, but to me, the whole ‘possible torso explosion’ thing is a little more important than ‘oh no, the guy known for having zero sexual interest in people saw me shirtless’.”

Elora gave me what looked like the most genuine smile I’d seen on her face. “I like you, Cadence. That confidence will serve you well with us. Out of respect for your honesty, I’ll share the same, rather than more teasing. I’m not showing you because I’ve already had it modified and I don’t want you to see how. I don’t know if you can see sub-glyphs at a glance yet and I wouldn’t trust your answer if you said you couldn’t.”

“That’s perfectly understandable, thank you.” I nodded.

“You’re taking this whole thing well,” Elora mused. “You’d be surprised how many people just panic when I mention a word like ‘Godslayers’.”

I offered her a shrug. “My life has been pretty much non-stop twists since I took my Judgment. A swordsman strong enough to fight a visage. Caelford making artificial god beast attunements. Tenjin’s disappearance. Confirming Tristan is alive. My mother knowing he was alive, and having contact with a visage about it. Vae’kes manipulating our government. Honestly, as far as twists go, this conversation barely rates an eyebrow raise.”

Elora chuckled. “I suppose when you put it in those terms, one more bit of information is less significant. But I hope you understand the degree of trust I’m putting in you by identifying myself.”

“Sure, and I don’t intend to tell anyone without a good reason. You have to expect that I’ll discuss it with Sera at some point, though, just to be realistic.”

“Of course. I would expect no less. Discuss, debate. I’m not the type to restrict information like some, nor are my fellows. The offer I intend to extend to you is for you only, however. Sera may get her own offer, but it would be separately, and for different reasons.”

“No objections there.” I nodded. “I take it you’re intending to offer me to join your faction?”

“Not at this stage, but obviously things will be going in that direction. Instead, I’d like to offer you a private meeting with someone who can tell you more.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Who would that be?”

“My backer. And your brother’s former backer, before he turned away from our faction.” There wasn’t even a hint of bitterness in her tone. If anything, she sounded…respectful? Fond? Like…changing sides was something she approved of?

Odd. I’ll have to look into it—

No.

Not this time. Too important.

“You sound almost like you approve of his decision. Am I wrong?’

She wrinkled her nose. “With the information available to him, it was an understandable move, and he executed it spectacularly. Even my patron agrees. I should make it clear that there is no ill will against Tristan, on my part or his. If anything, we’d love to bring him back into the fold.”

“And I assume attempting to recruit me for a part of that?”

She waved a hand in a “sort-of” gesture. “We want your help for other reasons, but my patron has a way of making use of whatever tools are available. He’d certainly ask for your help with Tristan at some point if it’s a possibility, but I’m sure he has other ways of reaching out to Tristan, too.”

“And this patron of yours? Who is he?”

“I’m afraid that’s one thing I do have to be vague about, as even saying his name here would set off alarms. I believe you’d find that the novel series about him is rather inaccurate, however.”

I took a breath. “The one that train robbers have been copying?”

“That’s the one, yes.” She nodded.

“Oh.” I took a breath. “Oh no.”

“Yes, most people react like that at first. Let me assure you that if you agree to the meeting, you will be given safe passage to and from the meeting, and we will ensure your safety during the meeting to the best of our ability as well. This is no trick or trap. You are free to refuse. In fact, my patron expects you to refuse to join us, but believes the meeting will still be productive and instructive.”

“In what way?”

“He’s willing to share certain intelligence with you even if you do not work for us, since he believes that we are working toward common goals.”

“…Meaning the downfall of the visages? That’s not…”

“Not all the visages. Katashi specifically. You are uniquely equipped to be involved in that particular affair — and assisting is in both your best interests and Valia’s best interests. Katashi is moving to conquer us. Countless lives will be lost if he’s allowed to continue this war. And, perhaps more importantly to you, Katashi will kill Tristan when he’s completed his conquest.”

“How can you be certain of that last part?”

“Oh, well, while Katashi and I were talking, he made it clear that he was planning to clean up any loose ends after Valia was in his hands, including me, if I wasn’t perfectly loyal. I have, of course, been trying to make certain I give the appearance of that to him, but I’ve been making my own plans to stop him since the start.”

“What reason do I have to trust you, if I know you’re playing both sides?”

“Oh, Corin. You absolutely shouldn’t trust me. You know that. Take what you know and extrapolate.”

I frowned. “You’re going to try to make sure you’re in the best position possible regardless of if Katashi wins or not. But…all things considered; you probably don’t trust him to keep you alive if he does succeed. And even if he doesn’t kill you, you’ll likely lose power and influence in the event of his victory. So, your best-case scenario is for Katashi to fail in a way that he is unable to extract revenge against you.”

“Perfectly done. You know, many people underestimate you, but I’m not one of them. I know what you did to your father, after all. And if you can do that to him…who’s to say you can’t do the same to a visage?”

“You can’t literally mean using the same strategy.”

“No, of course not. His powers don’t work the same way, or it would have been done by now. Even taking down Tenjin was complicated — and the same plan won’t work twice.”

“How’d you pull it off?”

She took a moment, seeming to consider that. “I can’t tell you everything, but I’ll give you a critical component. Your brother was armed by my patron with The Ordinary Knife.”

I blinked. “I take it the is an important article in that name. What is The Ordinary Knife?

“An innocuous name for a terrifying weapon. Under most circumstances it appears, even to Emerald-level detection magic, to be a perfectly mundane knife. However, it also treats everything around it as if it was…perfectly ordinary. It completely ignores all forms of magical defense, like shrouds and barriers, as if they were not there. Moreover, if it cuts someone or something, it renders whatever it cuts ordinary.”

“…You’re telling me it made a visage powerless?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Even the knife wasn’t capable of that. But it weakened him significantly and in ways that could not easily be countered. There were several other components to the plan, but that was a critical one.”

“What happened to this knife?”

She shook her head. “I took it after the fight and stored it in the Jaden Box. Afterward, well, someone opened the box completely, and…”

“Oh.” I remembered a dagger with a pitch-black aura, one that went missing after the box had been emptied out. “I, uh…oops? But wait. The dagger I saw in the box didn’t look like what you described.”

She shrugged. “I heard about that. I’m not sure what happened. My suspicion is that the Jaden Box’s storage functions interfered with it in a way that made it temporarily show something closer to a ‘true form’ when it was taken out after being stored for a long enough time. For all I know, the black dagger you saw might have been something different, and The Ordinary Knife might have escaped through some other means. Either way, it’s gone, and I don’t know where.”

“Could someone else make one?”

“Doubtful. It was, from what we were told, a worldmaker-class item — or at least a piece of one. Even then, Tenjin would have escaped from its influence if we hadn’t taken other measures, but…that’s for my patron to explain, if he chooses.”

I took a breath. “Should we try to find the knife? It seems like something that could be useful.”

“Oh, it would be. But I’ve put Emeralds on it without any success. Perhaps my patron has it back — he wouldn’t tell me one way or another. But either way, Katashi would be aware of that strategy, so it’s not useful for this specific endeavor. Perhaps for the rest of them, but one visage at a time is best.”

I shivered slightly in spite of myself. She was really talking about killing all of the visages, without the slightest hint of emotion about it. Just like…the weather or something. “…Why? I can see why your patron might want this, but…why help him? If he’s pulling the strings on this…wouldn’t getting rid of the visages just open the door for his people to take over here?”

“Please, Corin. If my patron wanted to take over Valia, or even Kaldwyn as a whole, he would have done so already. The visages couldn’t stop him.”

“Then why isn’t he handling this on his own?”

“That would defeat the point, from his perspective.”

I frowned. “Is this some sort of…god thing? Like, he gets stronger if people are doing absurd things in his name?”

“You know, that’s probably true, but no, that’s not his central motivation. Well, assuming what he says can be believed, which is, you know, unlikely. But he has an explanation that sounds plausible. I’m not going to tell it to you. You’ll have to ask him yourself…if you accept the meeting.”

I sighed, considering the absolute insanity it sounded like to answer in the affirmative, and asked one last question. “When and where?”

***

When we finished the discussion about her employer, I went to the door to leave, but Elora spoke up before I turned the handle. “I can see how that might have seemed like a final note for our conversation, but there’s a bit more before you leave.”

I turned toward her. “I’m not sure I’m in the mood for more dubious deals.”

“Well, then you should probably start the walk back to Valia, since such deals are all you’ll be dealing with over the next few days. Or weeks, depending on how long the council session is held.”

I groaned, but I conceded her point. “What else, then?”

“Some basics about your role in all this,” she gestured at the building around her, “at least to start with. As an Arbiter, you theoretically have the ability to negotiate directly with the visages. It’s a peculiar position to be in when the visage you’re connected to is invading your own nation. It would be unwise to assume Katashi hasn’t accounted for that. You should expect offers to switch sides, more assassination attempts, and other forms of leverage.”

“Wonderful. I’ll take that under advisement.”

“I’m certain you will. More than that, however, you should understand your position lends you a degree of ability to skew the narrative. When the Dalenos delegation arrives, they will no doubt insist that the invasion represents Katashi’s will. But you could, if you chose, potentially use your influence to cast that into doubt.”

“What, you mean just…contradict them? Who would possibly believe me?”

“That, my dear, depends on how good your argument is, as well as what evidence you’re capable of presenting.”

I frowned. “I don’t think I’m equipped to skew people’s perceptions on that. Obviously the people of Dalenos will know if Katashi is the one guiding their forces.”

“Of course. But the people of other nations may be less certain, especially our own. You should understand that these are strange and challenging times for some, Corin. Our visage is missing. There may be those that welcome the idea of another visage stepping in and taking us under his proverbial — or sometimes literal — wing. You can make the argument that you, as Katashi’s Arbiter, have heard no such plan from him. Put the burden on Dalenos’ representatives to present evidence of Katashi’s direct involvement.”

I took a breath. “Would that even accomplish anything?”

“Difficult to say. It’s possible they’ve prepared something, like a memory crystal from a meeting with Katashi, but that’s unlikely — a meeting with him would be considered to be too important to record in that fashion. It would be seen as sacrilegious. Which means, essentially, it’s their word against yours.”

I frowned. “And they’d be the ones telling the truth.”

“Well, in a matter of speaking. If all you say is that you haven’t heard anything or been given any orders to turn the nation over, that would be true, wouldn’t it?”

I sighed. “I suppose. But would Katashi have any obligation to tell me that?”

“Of course not. Visages have few or no obligations to mortals in general, depending on who you ask. But as an Arbiter, you do have the right to raise the question of whether or not this endeavor is truly authorized by Katashi.”

“What does that get us? Do I demand a meeting?”

She waved her hands in a fervent “no” gesture. “No, that would be overplaying your hand. Ultimately, the principal goal here is to buy time for other movements, as well as to cast doubt on the Dalenos’ military’s authority to invade. That doubt helps give us multiple potential measures of eventual resolution, depending on how the next several moves play out.”

I paused to consider that. “It opens a door for Katashi to disavow the invasion more easily if it goes badly.”

“Precisely. If I had to wager on why you have not been contacted, it would be that you exist as a contingency for exactly that purpose — to meet with him at a later time, for him to claim no involvement in the invasion, and to ‘negotiate’ a ceasefire on terms he no doubt already planned.”

“That’s…” I exhaled a breath. “How many contingencies do you think he has? Can we even get ahead of that sort of thing?”

“On our own? Likely not. But we’re not the only players here — and some have been in the game even longer than the visages.”

“…I’m not sure I’m thrilled at the idea that my movements might just be serving the purposes of your patron, either.”

She shrugged a shoulder. “They might not. As I said, there are other players plural. Some may play their hands quietly. I anticipate at least one or two others will make bold moves over the following days, showing their hands in a way that will be historically rare, if not unprecedented. These are exciting times. You’ll have a lot to reminisce about if you survive them.”

“Lovely.” I refocused. “Speaking of other players…what about the Peacemakers?”

Elora scoffed. “That’s just a fancy name for saying people who are aware of the situation, but comfortable with the status quo. I wouldn’t go so far as to call them a ‘faction’ in their own right. There might be a few noteworthy Whispers among them — people who might actively take steps to preserve the existing situation — but I have no evidence to believe that they’re organized enough to warrant being considered a single group.”

I nodded in understanding. “Any specific people among them I should watch for?”

“Not that I can think of at this moment. Most of these ‘Peacemakers’ aren’t going to be at a place like this council. This is a bastion of human power; it runs counter to everything they stand for.”

“And they wouldn’t want to infiltrate or sabotage that? Seems like an obvious target for that sort of thing.”

“Oh, there will be people doing that, absolutely. Just not on behalf of any sort of organization. I suppose I could point people out to you that might be worth worrying about later, but of the guests that have arrived, I have not noticed anyone who I would strongly associate with these ‘Peacemakers’.”

“Noted, thank you.” I took a breath. That was some useful information, at least, even if I thought she sounded a little overly dismissive. “What about my brother’s faction? What can you tell me about them?”

“I believe that would be better answered by Tristan.”

“And if I’m not in a position to get answers from him?”

“I would be willing to trade information for a direct guarantee of support on certain issues. Is that something you’d like?”

I hesitated. “Not until I’ve had a chance to talk to Sera, at least.”

“Wise. This is not a time for incautious moves and alliances. That said, ultimately, you will need to make certain choices on where you align yourself.”

“I understand.” I went quiet. “What are these moves you’d want backing on?”

“The first two are simple. Discredit the invasion to the best of your ability. This is, I would suggest, wise even if you do not lend your hand to our cause. Similarly, you should register for the Emerald Trials. Succeed in them, make yourself known as an Emerald. This will lend your voice more weight in discussions, as well as a physical vote.”

“Is a single vote likely to be meaningful?”

She shook her head. “In terms of absolute value, no, it’s rare for something to come down to a single vote. Your single vote, if it exists, may inspire others to follow your lead. By occupying a position of religious significance, you are a means by which religious Valians can take the stance that the visages have not chosen this invasion, and that has great significance in certain voting blocs.”

I groaned. I did not want to be the spokesperson for a religious voting bloc, nor did I want to be guiding their voting patterns, but…

“Could I give my vote to someone with more…political abilities, if I had one?”

Elora chuckled. “You could, but it would potentially devalue the vote, especially if you didn’t have a good reason for it. If you were to, say, give the vote to Sera because you were going to meet with Katashi personally, that would hold great significance and likely retain the vote’s value. Unfortunately, pursuing that avenue has a problem.”

“That if I meet with Katashi, he might just decide to kill me?”

“Oh, that’s one of them. More likely, he just keeps you in a box until he needs you to say something. Or brands you, with the threat to make you explode, unless you behave in a certain way.”

“…If he wants to do that, why hasn’t he done it already?”

“Showing himself in Valia is not something Katashi does lightly, and up until comparatively recently, you had Selyrian to protect you. It’s possible that Katashi simply hasn’t had the time to act since Keras left — or, perhaps, that Katashi still believes that you are more useful moving of your own accord. I can’t claim to know everything that goes through his mind. But you should not underestimate your own importance, and you also should not underestimate Katashi’s knowledge of it. He will have made plans for you. The only question is if those plans are accurate and up-to-date, and that is why we must take steps he cannot easily anticipate.”

I exhaled another deep breath. “Okay. I won’t make any promises in terms of allegiance, but…I’ll think about it. And I can see the advantages of the Emerald Trials and getting a vote. But I imagine those aren’t easy to handle, if they’re designed for full Emeralds to prove their abilities.”

“Oh, they won’t be. Especially if you don’t complete them before the Dalenos delegation gets here, and they’re able to influence the tests.”

“What are they?”

“A preliminary check to see if you have an Emerald aura, just to avoid wasting time. They could technically check if you can use Emerald-level aura manipulation functions, but it’s unlikely. After that, three actual tests. The first will be monsters, similar to a Survival Match, but by yourself.”

“That might be…doable. Unless there are Emerald-level monsters?”

“Oh, there will be. Probably just one at the end.”

I groaned. “You know I’m not supposed to be using my one of my attunements or my transcendence mark?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something, dear. At least for that round. That’s the easy part.”

“And the others?”

“Oh.” She smiled. “We’ll burn those bridges when we get to them.”

***

I took a few minutes to just decompress after leaving the room, standing in a hallway and breathing heavily after Elora headed back to the Valian meeting room.

After I managed to steady myself, I considered the conversation, then went to find Len. She was, in my understanding, the one responsible for the preliminary tests before the Emerald Trials.

“Master Cadence, how may I be of assistance to you?” Len reached up and adjusted her glasses. I briefly wondered if she was activating some sort of spell while doing so, but it didn’t really matter one way or another.

“I’m looking to participate in the Emerald Trials. Is there somewhere I need to sign up?”

“Nothing so formal as that. Your declaration of intent is sufficient. Are you familiar with the trial procedures?”

I shook my head. “Not in any degree of detail.”

“Very well, I can provide you with a brief overview, in that case. First, you’ll need to provide an outward demonstration of Emerald-level, observed by representatives of at least three of the four powers. Fortunately, although the majority of the representatives of each nation have not yet arrived, we have enough people here to serve that function at this time.”

“…Wait, right now? Literally now, I, uh…” I glanced from side-to-side, finding Sera amidst a crowd that I didn’t recognize. Patrick and Mara had vanished.

“Calm, Master Cadence. There is no need for expediency in this matter. It can wait until later this evening, tomorrow, or even beyond if needed. An early demonstration has advantages, in that you would likely start earlier in the trials proper, and potentially dodge the participation of stronger competition.”

“Competition?” I asked.

“Ah. I appear to be getting ahead of myself.” Len folded her hands in front of her. “Beyond the demonstration, the trials will have three phases. The preliminary phase is simple — you’ll step into an arena and fight a series of progressively stronger monsters.”

I nodded. That sounded like what Elora had already explained. “And the later phases?”

“The second stage requires you to defeat an applicant from another nation. This is largely where you’ll see more investment in both physical and political capital from the nations, since the winner moves forward, and the loser cannot take the trials again until the next meeting of the council.”

“That sounds like the type of thing where sabotage could come into play.”

“It’s undoubtedly been attempted, but our security measures can be…extreme. Not infallible by any means, of course, but direct measures against someone here would likely be noticed and generate a powerful response. It’s more likely you’ll see interference in subtler ways. Strategic manipulation of the matchups, the timing in which matches occur, that sort of thing. Also, there’s nothing to stop any nation from loading their candidates up with magical items.”

She didn’t have to say it, but that would potentially negate one of my principal advantages — equipment. If everyone was coming in loaded with powerful items, that would make it harder to fight opponents above my level through that advantage alone. Which meant I needed to get even stronger equipment or find other advantages.

That was going to be extremely challenging, given that I still couldn’t use my transcendence crystal mark, and I probably shouldn’t use my Enchanter attunement either.

I took a breath. That’s a problem for future Corin. One stage at a time.

“Okay. What about the third phase?”

“Simple. You have to defeat an established Emerald.”

I groaned. Some of the other applicants might have been people like myself that were faking their Emerald status for the test — obviously, Mary was planning to do that if I helped her. Others would be brand-new Emeralds. For people who were established members of the council…well, some of them still could be people faking their level, but they’d have been doing it for a while if that was the case. They were much more likely to have actual Emerald-level combat ability.

I genuinely didn’t think I had a chance against one of them in a fair fight.

Obviously, I considered the approach of interfering with my opponent’s attunement, much like I had with my father. Doing that to someone from another nation, though…that was a very different statement. And I had no guarantee that I’d be matched against one of our enemies. There was every possibility I’d be fighting one of our allies, and potentially alienating an allied nation if I broke the attunement of one of their Emeralds.

Something like a smaller form of interference would be possible — maybe designing some kind of new attunement feature that would disable the attunement for a set period of time, then delete itself when that time period expired — but displaying the capability to alter attunements on that scale was another type of risk. I doubted most people at the gathering would have any idea what I was doing, but it was practically guaranteed that Farren Labs would have representatives present, and Warren Constantine himself owned the tower we stood in. They’d know, and given that Warren had destroyed his own attunements to prevent that sort of potential manipulation happening to him, I couldn’t imagine he'd be happy to see me doing it to others in his tower.

Deep breaths, Corin. You have time to figure this out.

“Okay.” I nodded to Len. “Let me talk to Sera, get her thoughts on this.”

“Very well, Master Cadence. Let me know when you are ready for your assessment.”

***

I met up with Sera after that, dragging her to a dueling chamber to talk privately. I filled her in on my talks with Elora and Len. Her response was simple.

“You can’t beat most Emeralds without preparation. You probably can’t even handle the preliminaries in your condition, depending on the monsters they throw at you.”

“So, you think I should skip this?” I asked.

“I didn’t say that.” She looked around, clearly uncertain about the observation-blocking runes on the walls, then glanced back to me. “But we need to wait.”

“Why?”

“There are pros and cons to waiting purely in terms of the mana measurements. That said, Len said that it would be weeks before the physical trials are ready, correct?”

I nodded. “Yeah. At least a few. And they want more observers, too.”

“If that’s the case, then any demonstration of your abilities right now gives people the time necessary to analyze what you’re doing and figure out what sorts of tricks you’re using to look like an Emerald. Beyond that, they can prepare for countering your skillset.”

“What sort of preparations, exactly?”

“Any monsters you’re fighting in the preliminary stage will have a source. Given Warren and Len’s philosophy, it won’t be the free summoned monsters that live here. Thus far, those monsters seem to largely be hiding from the crowd. I don’t think he plans to show them unless he needs them to enforce the peace.”

I nodded. “Meaning that any monsters I’m fighting are going to be coming from a Summoner. And if I say I’m going to take the trials now, it gives our theoretical opponents time to study my abilities and figure out which summons to use against me. Okay.”

“This gives me some time to check in on the Summoners here, too. Figure out who might be used, which summons they have, and how…malleable they are.”

“You want to see if we can make a deal?”

Sera nodded. “Potentially. That said, it’s actually more likely it won’t be a Summoner supplying the monsters you fight. They’ll probably have someone from another nation be responsible for the monsters to avoid any accusations of Valia going light on you. While there are foreign Summoners, it’s less likely for a Valian attunement to appear in other spires. Granted, this gathering is much more likely to have multi-attuned than anywhere else we’ve ever been, but I think we’re more likely to run into another similar attunement, like a Conjurer.”

I frowned. “That means they’ll have a lot more flexibility, but lower power, right? Since they can conjure basically anything they can think of, but it’s less efficient?”

“A bit of an over simplification. Conjurers can still make contracts, but they’re optional. With a contract, conjured monsters are almost as effective as summons, but they have different strengths and weaknesses. Notably, in the latter case, light magic.”

“…Which I can use.”

Sera nodded. “With some minimal ability, yes. More likely? If I can confirm what you’re up against, you should borrow Bright Reflection.”

I nodded immediately. I remembered hearing Keras talking about how easily the original Dawnbringer tore through shades like paper. Bright Reflection was far from that level of power, but it was unlikely that these conjured monsters would be anything comparable to the Sun Eater’s shades. Having a strong elemental counter would be immensely useful.

“And if it’s not a Conjurer?” I asked.

“Then I get you a monster list. And…making a deal to go easy on you isn’t off the table.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to start the competition that way.”

“Don’t be Keras. This is more important than your pride. And it’s a political event — making ties is expected. You have your strengths here. Let me use mine.”

I stared at her for a moment, flexing my hands unconsciously at the moment of anger that came hearing Keras’ name used derisively like that, but…

She wasn’t wrong.

This was too important for my pride. And Keras could ignore politics and deals because he was strong. Overwhelmingly strong. Even when he first showed up at the Sacred Sword tournament, he was already at a point where he could match most Emeralds in a fair fight.

I wasn’t there. Not yet.

I needed all the leverage I could get.

I didn’t like it, but Sera was right about her own strengths, too. And, if I was being honest…

I wasn’t going to make it through this council without making a few bargains of my own. I’d already made one with Elora, and I suspected that was just the beginning.

“Okay. We’ve got a few weeks. Show me your own fighting style.”

Sera gave me the best smile I’d seen on her face in weeks. “That’s the beauty of my style, Corin. If I’m doing it right, no one else will ever see my moves.”

Chapter XIII – Emerald Emulation

“Dodge!” Patrick shouted as he hurled a lightning bolt across the dueling arena.

Haste.

I threw myself to the side, but the bolt curved in the air and followed my movements. I sent a burst of transference out of my right hand toward it, but Patrick simply twitched a finger and the bolt curved again, avoiding my counter. I ran backward, then jumped straight at one of the arena walls, running briefly along the wall before finally spinning around and flaring my aura.

Shivering Shroud.

The lightning blast rebounded away from me as it struck, but that didn’t send it back at the caster. Patrick had moved the bolt around so much that it blasted off in a direction that was nowhere near him.

I did very nearly manage to catch Mara with it, though.

As the bolt neared her, she slammed a foot into the ground, a burst of enhancement mana carrying her straight over the reflected bolt. Then she crossed her arms as I hurled a blast of transference at her, her own enhancement mana-hardened shroud negating much of the blast. In moments, she covered the distance between us, swinging a hastily formed mana blade before I’d even landed from my most recent wall-jump.

I formed a mana blade of my own, parrying her swing, then hit the ground just in time for veins of ice to form beneath me. I kicked at the ice, ducked a swing from Mara, then swung my own mana blade at her, stretching it mid-swing like I’d seen Keras doing—

And I’d almost clipped her when a blast of light slammed straight into my back.

I grunted.

“Reset!” Sera called, dismissing the ice from around my legs.

I groaned, dismissing my Haste technique and mana blade. Mara raised her good hand and I gave it an affectionate punch. “Almost gutted me there.”

“Same. Shame about your back. I liked it when it wasn’t on fire.”

“When it wasn’t what?” I turned my head and…yep, my back was smoking.

I let out a yelp and tossed my burning overcoat on the dueling floor. Sera lazily raised a hand and doused it in water, sending up another plume of smoke.

I backed off, coughing, then frowned and turned to Patrick. “What was that?”

“Intense light igniting cloth is expected behavior, Corin,” Sera called out at me.

“I had shields and shrouds up!” I turned to Patrick, who was whistling innocently. “Wait, light? You don’t have Bright Reflection drawn, and even if you did—”

“I might have figured out a trick to that.”

“A trick to completely ignoring how defensive magic works?” I folded my arms.

“Not so much. More like you’ve got a gap in your shrouds right after you do your reflection technique. It forms right at your back — you know, the place I just hit. I think it’s where you pull most of the mana from.”

I frowned. That was…plausible, I guess. If I was using any sort of shroud burst, I’d be converting mana and using some of it up, and it took time to normalize, just like how Mizuchi’s shrouds were used up when she took a breath, but… “That doesn’t explain how you got an attack through the shields…or how you used Bright Reflection without drawing it.”

“I didn’t.” Patrick patted the sword on his hip. “I did it myself.”

I blinked at him. “How?”

“Well, to the first part, it’s a common gap. If your shields permit light to go through — which they have to, for you to be able to see — that means there’s a type of light that can get through. Now, I can’t actually conjure natural light, but there are specific compositions of magical light that are close enough to get through most shield sigil types. It depends on the composition of mana in your own sigil.”

I blinked. I knew most of that from a theory standpoint, but…it raised other questions. “…How’d you figure out the right light to use?”

“Easy.” He pulled off his own borrowed shield sigil. “I figured your shield will be identical to the one you let me borrow. I’ve been practicing on it. Besides that, your Arbiter sigil erases your mana signature, which means the grey mana composition is the most basic one possible.”

“Huh.” I took a breath. “That’s an oversight. But that’s…a pretty niche tactic.”

“It’s exactly the type of thing we should be expecting your opponents to try to figure out,” Sera explained, “and the same thing you should be studying, if you figure out any of your own opponents in advance.”

I nodded. “Lesson learned. But…that still doesn’t explain how you managed to cast light magic at all.”

Patrick grinned, then pulled off a glove. Not the one covering his attunement — his other glove. And I saw a symbol there that I’d heard described, but never actually seen.

I blinked. “Is…that Dawnbringer’s symbol?”

Patrick grinned. “Sure is! Well, technically,” he patted Bright Reflection, “it’s a very good knockoff.”

I processed that. “You spirit bonded with Bright Reflection, like I did with Therin Thorn.”

“Sure did. Surprise!” He slipped his glove back on. “Still getting the hang of it, but now I’ve got a new mana type to play with. Well, a few of them, actually. And some compounding for things like fire.”

“That’s…pretty impressive, actually. But wait. How and when did you do it?”

“Just a few days ago. Studied up on the train, learned the spirit bonding spell. I was planning to wait a while before attempting it, but after what happened with the train being attacked…well, I felt like I needed all the power I could get.”

“I don’t blame you. But, uh…the spirit for that thing. That’s a part of Keras, right? Is that safe? Would he be okay with it?”

“He gave me the okay before he left. I just didn’t have the ability to cast the spell at that point. I needed to build up enough spirit mana acclimation for the spell — which I have now, thanks to your glove.” He patted the Null-Contract Gauntlet. “Sera helped me cast it, but I needed to make sure I actually could handle the spirit mana before I did it.”

I gave him a nod. “But…what about that weird annihilating mana Keras uses? Is that an issue?”

“There’s no trace of that kind of mana that we could find in the sword,” Sera explained. “We checked. So did Researcher. Best bet is those weird seals he talked about gave him enough control to enchant the sword without leaving any of that annihilation mana behind.”

“That’s great.” I took a breath. “Except for my sigils. I’m…going to need to make some adjustments.”

“Better to learn the weakness now than during the trials,” Sera told me.

I nodded. “Let me get to work.”

***

I made a few adjustments to the sigils, adding a tiny secondary shield function and the requisite supporting enchantments to allow for blocking certain light attacks. And then, upon further consideration, I tried to work in a few other ideas—

But I was out of capacity. If I wanted even stronger sigils, I’d need better materials.

After that, I talked strategy with my friends a bit more, then got back to training. We’d been practicing for three weeks, working on getting me as ready as possible for the Emerald Trials.

Patrick was in much better shape in general after three weeks of recovery. It was possible his new spirit bond helped with that, too, given that spirit mana tended to be useful for recovery in general.

Mara was in better spirits now that she had something to focus on, too — especially since it involved punching me.

Sera…

Sera was still in bad shape. She wasn’t participating in all of our training sessions. She helped out when she could, but most her help came in another form — going out and talking to people, figuring out who I was likely to face in the arena.

We had a list of candidates now, as well as monster lists. I was about as ready as I was going to be.

I still didn’t have my full strength recovered. My Enchanter attunement wasn’t going to be usable yet, not unless I ran into a true emergency, and I was still a long way from using any transcendence mana. But three weeks of practice had helped me feel more comfortable throwing around Accelerated Computation in a fight if I really needed to, as long as I was powering it through my Arbiter attunement, rather than my Enchanter one.

And more importantly than that, I’d made quite a bit of progress with my mana growth during that time. It had been less than five weeks in total since I’d gotten on the train and my safe mana capacity had jumped up from 366 to 452 — almost a hundred full points.

My Enchanter attunement had barely made any progress, sitting at 279. Only two points per week, but that was better than nothing. It gave me a total mana value of 732, meaning twice the requirement for Sunstone…but not all of it was available. Similarly, I probably had nearly Sunstone-level of power out of my crystal mark, but it was unusable.

I couldn’t hope to keep up with Emeralds with that kind of power alone. Fortunately, three weeks of practice had made me even better at cheating uproariously.

We finished up that sparring session, rested, and exchanged a few more words.

“Give me a couple more hours to do last checks,” Sera said.

I gave her those couple hours. Then, together, we went to talk to Len.

***

“We’re ready for Corin to enter the trials,” Sera told Len.

“Are you, now?” Len asked, sounding dubious.

“Mostly?” I asked. “I mean, yes, obviously we are very definitely ready. For the, uh, first part, at least?”

“You are prepared to demonstrate your Emerald-level shroud?” Len asked cautiously.

She knew, of course. She’d seen me only months before, been present for many of my conversations with Warren. She knew exactly what level I was.

“Absolutely.”

This was true.

It had taken less than a minute to make a new Spessartine-level function that I could turn on briefly to give myself a green aura. It wouldn’t do anything else, it was just…green.

While I’d been doing my training over the last few weeks, I’d also built two more functions, just in case. One would change my shroud into an actual Emerald-level shroud in terms of mana density. I’d run several tests with it and apparently it looked convincing, even to Elora’s eyes.

There was a problem with using that, of course. A novice Emerald had about 12,960 mana to work with. An Emerald-level shroud was a small fraction of that, based on the amount of mana they regenerated that they couldn’t actually use, as well as a few other complicated factors. For an actual Emerald, an Emerald-level shroud effectively had no cost, because it was only using a fraction of the mana they could draw in from the environment. For me, if I activated it, I’d have to pay for the cost difference between my what I could regenerate and the cost of generating the shroud.

A starting Emerald’s mana regeneration was their full mana in one hour under ideal conditions, or 216 mana per minute. The shroud was only a fraction of that, which I estimated to be about a quarter. This was probably a high estimate, but I wanted to play it safe.

That translated to about 54 mana per minute.

I hadn’t checked my mana values since right around the final exams, but I was probably just at the very edge of Sunstone with my Arbiter attunement…and that was my only usable mana at the moment, unless I wanted to risk using my Enchanter attunement and setting back my healing progress.

A baseline Sunstone-level attuned with 360 mana could maintain an Emerald-level shroud for just under seven minutes, doing nothing else, before running out of mana. I could last a little longer than that with my mana pool alone, now that I had a bit more than the necessary amount for Sunstone, but not much. Nine minutes, maybe, and that was pushing it.

I couldn’t imagine they were just going to take one look at my shroud and let me go — there would probably be discussion. How long would that conversation last? Did I want to risk demonstrating a real Emerald shroud and running out of mana mid-conversation?

Fortunately, with weeks to think about it, I’d found a solution to that as well — but I wouldn’t use it unless I needed to.

Next, I created one last attunement function — one that would temporarily give me access to Emerald-level ambient mana manipulation. That was a low-cost function to upkeep, so I just turned it on and played with it whenever I felt like it.

It felt very much like the shroud manipulation that Keras had taught us, but rather than using the mana inside my body as a source, it let me extend my senses into touching the mana in the air around me. That felt a little strange at first, and I was only able to manipulate the mana in rudimentary ways, even after a few weeks of tinkering. I could tug a bit of the nearest ambient mana toward me, or push a bit away, but not much else. Hopefully, if they asked for a demonstration of that ability, it would be enough.

When it came time for the tests, I asked Len a few more questions while we were in private, then followed her to another room. Not a dueling chamber, this time.

The Emerald Audience Chamber, where the council met to vote.

***

The audience chamber was a lavishly adorned hexagonal chamber about sixty meters across. In the midst of it was a massive twenty-meter cylindrical platform wrought from glittering crystal with a waist-height pillar in the center. It took me a moment to realize that pillar was just a fancy podium, and that the whole platform was basically a speaker’s stage.

The stage was surrounded by seating in several different zones. Only a handful of people were currently seated, making the entire place feel too large.

The walls were plain white stone, but draped with massive and elaborate tapestries — one for each of the god beasts, which was an interesting choice, since visages would have been a much more conventional option.

There were six areas of seating around the central platform. Five of them held national flags. Edria’s flag was present in two areas, corresponding to the zones shown with the God Hydra and God Phoenix, likely a way of acknowledging their control over those specific spires.

The flag for the Spider Spire was blank. No nation controlled the Spider Spire. Supposedly, no one even knew where it was. That was why it was so surprising that someone was sitting in that area — but, I supposed, there wasn’t anywhere better for the lord of the Sorcerer’s Spire to situate himself.

Warren Constantine stood up as we entered, his gaze narrowing as he saw me. “Emerald now, is it?”

“The tests will certainly show that,” I said, giving him a weak hint of a smile.

His response was strained. “I’m sure they will. Come, Corin Cadence. The World Stage awaits you.”

***

I’ll admit, standing on that stage in front of a bunch of unfamiliar Emeralds was terrifying.

Len took the stage along with me, as Master of Ceremonies. That was a bit of a comfort, since she’d been nothing but helpful to me, but…I still wanted to be anywhere else.

“Members of the Emerald Council, honorable lord of the Sorcerer’s Spire, distant observers, thank you for your participation on such short notice. Today, and in the following days, we will be evaluating several new applicants for Emerald Council membership. This will be the first test to determine if someone is ready to participate in the Emerald Trials.”

Distant observers? I tried not to overthink that one.

“We all know the deal,” someone called from the crowd. An unusually tall woman sitting in the Edrian wing, heavily armored. I didn’t recognize her. “You can dispense with the formalities, we’re all tired.”

“Understood, Executioner.” Len tipped her head downward.

Exe…

I blinked at Len, then at the tall woman, taking a closer look at her.

Beyond her significant height — she was probably six feet tall or taller — the woman was built like a tower, with her dark plate mail encasing solid muscle. Rings of tiny glowing runes were visible around the armor’s neck and joints, indicating sophisticated enchantments that I couldn’t make out at a distance. She wore a curved single-handed sword at her hip and a crimson cloak. It was that last detail that brought the image together, completing the picture of someone I’d only heard about during a train ride months earlier.

That’s…Hannah Meiyer, isn’t it? A former wielder of Diamantine, one of the Six Sacred Swords. Or…a part of Diamantine, at least, before she lost her right hand…

She probably won’t want it coming out that I know that. Diamantine being split into pieces — and some of those pieces being stolen — isn’t something the public knew about in Keras’ story. It’s been years since then, but I have no reason to believe the situation has changed that much.

I let my eyes shift slightly, scanning for a particularly important detail. She visibly appeared to have two hands, now, but with her gauntlets, it was hard to tell if one of them was a prosthetic.

“Applicant, please identify yourself.” Len’s tone was even.

This wasn’t rehearsed, so I just said the first thing to come to my mind. “I’m Corin Cadence.”

“We knew that!” someone yelled from the Valian section. “Come on, kid, show some of that father-beating spine!”

I bristled at the strange remark that wasn’t quite an insult, but didn’t turn to see the speaker. Instead, I walked deliberately to the center of the platform, leaning on the crystalline podium.

“Very well, then.” I took a breath.

The council wasn’t even started yet and I was already tired of people. Tired of politics. Tired of feeling weak.

So, I wouldn’t be. I’d prepared to make sure of that.

Spessartine-Emerald On.

My Emerald aura — a true Emerald-level potency — flared with sudden light.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Corin Cadence. Enchanter. Crystal-Marked. I am the second disciple of Keras Selyrian, Wielder of Dawnbringer. And I am Wielder of Selys-Lyann,” I looked very deliberately at Hannah Meiyer, “a sword forged from Flowbreaker, one of the Six Sacred Swords.”

Hannah eyes widened briefly with recognition, then she opened her mouth—

But I wasn’t done.

“I am the inheritor to the legacy of Alaric Cadence, the duelist who ended the Six Years War. In my first year at my academy, I survived three battles against the Hero’s End — twice fighting her personally, sword-to-claw. In my second, I defeated a Child of the Tyrant in Gold. I studied under Anabelle Farren, and under her rival, the lord of this tower. But before that and after, I learned from a different Enchanter, Professor Blanche Vellum, who banished Mizuchi from Valia with her own power.”

I wasn’t sure how Warren would respond to that — if he’d be hostile to what I suspected about his heritage — but it went about as well as I could have hoped.

He burst into laughter. “…Banishing Mizuchi. She never changes, does she?” He shook his head. “Go on, lad. Unless that was the end of it.”

“Oh, almost done.” I nodded, then pulled off the glove on my right hand. “I’m also the Arbiter of Katashi. And, funny thing — I haven’t heard a word from him authorizing any sort of invasion of Valia.”

Chapter XIV – All Due Caution

A woman in the Dalenos section shot to her feet after my declaration, but Warren Constantine gave her a glance and shook his head.

“Lord Cadence, please keep any discussion to the matters at hand — there will be plenty of time for political statements later, provided that you earn it. And Lady Morino, please be seated. Does anyone have objections to this boy’s claimed qualification for Emerald-level?”

I frowned at the presence of someone representing Dalenos. I’d been told their delegation hadn’t arrived yet, and Sera had double-checked just a day earlier…but I supposed it was possible that some people had arrived in advance of the main force. We’d found some people present when we arrived in the Valian chambers, after all.

Or, perhaps, we’d simply been misinformed.

“No objections from Caelford’s delegation,” a black-skinned woman said, drawing all eyes toward her. I realized I’d seen her earlier, standing near Nakht and Farren when we’d entered. “Obviously, if anyone would know if Corin Cadence wasn’t really an Emerald, it would be one of his teachers, right? So, if Miss Farren isn’t going to point out that Corin clearly couldn’t have reached Emerald by now, no one else is going to, right? Right!” She clapped her massive black gauntlets once to conclude her message, sending a ringing sound across the room that was so loud that I cringed in response. If she’d noticed the impact, her face showed no sign.

Hannah Meiyer stood up in response. “Well, if Miss Clarent speaks for Farren, who believes that Corin meets his qualifications, Edria will, of course, not gainsay them on the matter. We do, however, have pertinent questions on other issues—”

Warren stood up, waving a lazy hand. “Sit down, it’s not the time for that.”

“Respectfully, spire lord, the declaration that he is a wielder changes the entire calculus of his presence, and if there is any truth to it—”

“It’s true.” I spoke to her directly. “At least, as true as it can be for anyone who only has a fraction of a broken sacred sword. Since, as we all know, Flowbreaker was broken centuries ago.”

I kept the implication obvious, but unspoken. I wasn’t sure exactly who knew that there was something analogous going on with Diamantine — Edria’s own famous sacred sword — and that they had split it up deliberately, with near-catastrophic results. The royal family’s control of Diamantine was a part of their claim toward divine right of rulership. If Hannah claimed that only having a part of a sacred sword did not make someone a wielder, that same claim could be applied to the legitimacy of the Edrian throne.

I was letting Hannah know that I knew. This was a risk as an opening move, but as long as I didn’t press the issue, hopefully it would help solidify my claim to be Keras’ apprentice — since Keras knew that secret, and Hannah knew that Keras knew that — without putting Edria in a position where they felt threatened.

Sera had offered the strategy, and from what I saw from Hannah’s eyes narrowing, the message had gotten through. Whether or not it was a wise message to send was a completely different matter.

“Of course. We all know the legends of Flowbreaker. If I could be given a chance to authenticate your sword as a piece of Flowbreaker, perhaps we could skip this preliminary business altogether, since your status as a wielder—”

“East Edria would prefer to see a demonstration of the boy’s skills, wielder or not,” a sitting woman said quietly, her hands folded in her lap. She wore some sort of formal white robes with the symbol of the God Phoenix stitched into them in crimson.

“Dalenos concurs.” The speaker was another figure from the Dalenos section, perhaps a year or two older than me. He wore two swords — and two shrouds. If the other Dalenos representative had looked enraged to hear my claims, this one merely looked amused. “Let him fight. We’ll all have days to ask questions after that, provided he survives even a single round.”

I wasn’t the only one who reacted strongly. Hannah Meiyer’s jaw tightened. “Yes. I’ll have plenty of time to ask him if he survives.”

I suddenly felt like Hannah’s questioning was a little more immediately relevant than I’d realized.

Was…there really a risk of lethality in this first round of testing? I hadn’t gotten the impression that the monsters would be that dangerous. Was there something I was missing?

I gave Warren a questioning look. He simply shrugged.

“Well, given that there are no actual objections to his qualifications as an Emerald, we can get the show started, can’t we? Right. Come this way, C….Corin, was it?” He frowned. “Yes, of course. My student. Your test begins shortly. The rest of you can wait here and watch.”

“I’ll take him to the test room, Master Constantine,” Len offered, standing and beating Warren to the podium where I was standing. “You needn’t bother yourself.”

“Yes, yes, of course. I’ll just…sit for a bit.” He slumped back down in a different chair than where he’d started, but in the same general segment of the room. I thought I caught the woman who had been called “Clarent” giving him an appraising look.

Worrying. Has he been using mental magic without an attunement again? And…if so, how has he been pulling that off? He’s probably using crystal marks, but I still haven’t…

“This way, Corin.” Len led me out a back door to the room, then down a hallway.

I glanced backward as we walked. “Thoughts?”

“That went about as well as it could have, but you might have pushed Hannah more than necessary. She’s going to be interested now, but your tone made it obvious you have information you’re holding over her, which…well, given the people in the room, might not be the worst thing. But I wouldn’t make that gamble in a larger crowd.”

I winced. “Understood.”

“I think it was fine, but you should be aware that she’ll follow up, and potentially not in a way that you want. Blackmail can be effective, but I’d advise against pushing that angle further. There may still be a chance at a genuine ally if you can pursue the ‘similar situation’ angle with a bit more subtlety.”

“I’m not great with subtlety.”

She turned back to me. “Then learn. Provided, of course, you’re in any condition to do so after this.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me? I thought I’d be pulled out if it looked too dangerous.”

“Accidents happen, Corin. And in a situation where someone just bombed your train, I think you should expect that accidents are going to happen here more often than not.”

I sighed. “Sounds like my last couple years. Okay. Any last bits of advice?”

“You can turn off the Emerald-level shroud now.”

I blinked. “Right.” I swapped my attunement settings back to a Sunstone-level shroud.

She nodded. “Good. Beyond that, it’s in your hands. I’ll simply wish you luck.”

“Can I put an item like a teleportation anchor right out here, or would that be considered cheating?”

“No, that should be fine. Nothing against leaving items here in the rules, as far as I’m aware, but leaving the room would be considered a loss.”

I reached into my bag and handed her a teleportation anchor for my circlet, just in case. “…Okay. Follow up question. If retreating is disqualified, does that mean you can leave the door open?”

“I don’t think that’s expressly disallowed.” She frowned. “Why?”

I set down my dimensional bag.

Then, piece by piece, I began to unload my inventory. I adjusted both of my shield sigils — Patrick had returned my second sigil to me for the match — and took a deep breath.

“In that case…I might be able to keep my Emerald-level shroud on for a while after all.”

***

The room was pitch black when I walked in, but not for long.

I cracked my neck, then snapped my fingers. The gesture was unnecessary, but demonstrative — a sheathed sword flew from outside the room to my hand, as if pulled by an invisible cord.

…Which was mostly what had happened, since most people couldn’t see the dozens of mana threads that were leading out the door.

I caught the sheathed sword easily in spite of the dark, my mana thread giving me an intuitive sense of the sword’s location and velocity.

I heard something move to my right as the sheath impacted my right hand, so I drew with my left. Brilliant golden light bathed the chamber as Bright Reflection practically flew out of the sheath. I took a single step back to dodge a monstrous claw from a human-sized mantis with a pitch-black shell. The creature hissed and reared back as the light blinded it and smoke began to rise from its chitinous shell.

Haste.

I didn’t bother with Accelerated Computation — not yet. Not if I didn’t need it.

I stepped in, swinging Bright Reflection, and used a burst of transference to add additional kinetic energy to my swing. My borrowed sword cut the mantis from neck to waist, spraying acidic ichor, which my renewed Emerald shroud deflected without difficulty.

“Next,” I said evenly.

I’d like to think I looked pretty impressive, but that had just been the Quartz-level monster. There would be one of each level from Quartz to Emerald, if everything went the way Sera’s investigation indicated it would.

Something looking like a bear with the head of an ant appeared in the back of the room and reared up on its hind legs. It looked fairly formidable, probably some kind of manifestation of one of the Buried, with powerful claws and extremely sharp pincers. There were some spikes on its back, too.

I judged the distance to the creature — and thus across the room — to be about sixty feet. Then, I pointed my sword at its center of mass, discarded Bright Reflection’s sheath, and put both hands on the hilt as I connected another mana thread to the runes that powered it.

With a thought, rather than the usual verbal commands, I sent a torso-width blast of light across the room. Bright Reflection’s beam tore straight through the creature’s chest, leaving a gaping and smoking hole. It fell and vanished.

“Ne—”

Frozen hands grabbed my ankles from below the floor. Ice began to spread across my legs.

As the half-corporeal monster held me in place, another entity appeared in the middle of the chamber — a massive and muscular man that appeared to be made entirely out of compressed fire, save for two obsidian horns.

Is…that a shade of Ifrit, the guardian of the Fire Temple?

Well, that escalated quickly. At least it’s not the real thing — he’s supposed to be somewhere around the same power range as Mizuchi. He’d crack me like an egg.

My grip on my sword tightened.

The false Ifrit looked at me and let out a booming laugh.

“What is this? A mere boy child?” His fists beat against his chest and smoke blasted outward from his body, beginning to spread across the entire room.

I waved a hand absently, sending a burst of transference outward to keep the smoke from enveloping my location, then cleaved downward. A third hand reached up and grabbed my sword blade before I could cut through the ones that were grappling me. I blinked as the blade began to freeze over.

Oh, come on, another hand? That’s—

“Hahaha! You look cold, little one! Let me warm you!”

Ifrit lowered his massive shoulders and drew one foot across the floor, melting straight through the ground. Then, he charged.

I pulled on the mana thread attached to Selys-Lyann, which was still on my hip, and flicked the wrist of my free hand. The ice from my legs shattered and flew across the room as I reshaped it with Selys-Lyann’s power, but the shards weren’t strong enough to have the impact I wanted. They melted almost completely in the fire creature’s aura, the resulting impact barely slowing the monster as it barreled across the room with tremendous speed.

Jump.

I heard a crack from the wrists below me as I applied my ring’s power to launch myself upward. The first attempt dislodged the hands, then a second jump carried me into the air.

There was a hiss as the creature below me began to crawl out of the ground, exposing some sort of terrifying half-dead creature with icy skin, four arms, and pitch-black nails.

I hadn’t been expecting undead. Summoners almost never contracted them due to the dangers inherent in the process, so it hadn’t been on my list. Conjurers, who drew from their imagination for monster creations, had no such limitations.

The creature — some sort of ghoul or wight, maybe, although I thought those were more corporeal — pulled itself upward as I soared, its claws elongating to improbable proportions.

Nope. Nope nope. Not letting those cut me.

I shot myself up a bit farther, nearly to the twenty-foot-high ceiling.

I felt a jerk; some of my mana threads went taut as I stretched them nearly to their limits against the doorframe. In spite of my training, they remained relatively fragile. They wouldn’t snap at a swift breeze anymore, but making them any more solid had the downside of making them more detectable, which would have ruined the effect I was going for.

Ifrit arrested his charge faster than I’d expected, turning the dead thing’s hands upward and sending a series of three heavy bursts of strangely solid flame in my direction.

Bright Reflection.

I battered all three blasts of flame at the ghoul-like monster below me. The first one blasted straight through one of the creature’s shoulders, setting it on fire from within as it passed through. One of the other blasts melted one of the monster’s legs like candle wax. The third missed.

The creature was down, burning from within, the strange flames spreading rapidly.

Note to self — don’t get hit by those.

That was, of course, the cue for something else to hit me from behind.

A winged monster smashed into me, having manifested in mid-air right behind me and ambushed me without a hint of hesitation. I barely managed to grit my teeth and send out a burst of omnidirectional transference to hurl it off me before I hit the ground, but that was enough to land on my feet. I wobbled, but stood.

If I’d fallen there, I might not have ever made it to my feet again.

I turned and swung at whatever had hit me from behind, but the creature had retreated into the air with absurd speed.

“That ruffled my feathers raw, caw!”

I saw something shining out of a corner of my eye and barely side-stepped fast enough to avoid it.

A sharpened feather embedded itself in the floor, fist-deep. I sent a crescent wave of light in the direction it had come from, but I didn’t even have a chance to look at whatever had hurled it before I heard a roar and thundering steps behind me.

I turned just as the flame creature charged across the ground, wreathed in smoke and moving faster than I could, even with Haste. If I had Transcendent Haste on, perhaps I could have dodged, but…no. It was too much of a risk.

I reached out toward one of my mana threads outside the room, only to find it slack.

Reshing—

It was almost on top of me. There was no time.

Accelerated Computation.

The world around me didn’t slow, but it clarified.

Time to impact: 0.2858 seconds.

Jump.

I blasted myself backward, Ifrit’s aura singeing me as they passed nearby, but my still-active Emerald-level shroud dispersed most of the harm. My shield sigils did the rest, but visible cracks formed across the first shield in the process.

Ifrit spun on his heels as I passed by him, swinging a punch at my head.

Impact angle—

I ducked, bringing my sword down, but it bounced off his wrist.

Jump.

“You are a spry one!” Ifrit’s voice boomed. He pulled his hands together, forming a v-shape facing toward me. Flames began to flicker across his palms, growing brighter.

Not good!

I blasted myself backward as a handful of sharpened feathers passed through the space where I’d been a moment before, then flicked my wrist. Selys-Lyann flew out of its scabbard on my belt and straight forward, embedding deep into the flaming creature’s chest.

They roared, ice and mist spreading across the wound, then charged me again.

I felt my connection to Selys-Lyann’s mana thread and pulled on a fraction of the sword’s power.

Ice Armor.

Frozen plates manifested over my body as Ifrit closed in on me, pulling back a blazing fist.

I might not have been faster without Transcendent Haste, but my timing was perfect.

One…two….

Now.

I slammed an ice-gauntleted hand through the creature’s blazing shroud and punched Selys-Lyann’s hilt, sending a charge of transference mana through the sword on impact. The blast of mana caused the creature’s half-frozen chest to explode out its back.

It fell to its feet, Selys-Lyann clattering to the floor. The creature then began to stand back up.

“Not...bad…” Ifrit mumbled.

“You too.” Then, I stepped forward, and with a flick of mana toward Selys-Lyann, pulled the sword back upward at an angle across the monster’s throat.

The flames fell silent.

I turned to find the flying monster watching me from above, looking curious, perched high on the wall above the doorway.

She was some kind of winged creature that looked mostly like a human woman, but with bird wings and clawed bird-like talons. Also, feathers instead of hair. Her wings ended in strangely sharp pinions — they looked like they were made out of crystal, rather than ordinary feathers.

A dozen similar pinions hovered in the air around her, free-floating and shining like diamonds.

Some kind of harpy, maybe? It’s possible I should have taken Mara’s monster hunting class. With that kind of speed…she’s probably the Emerald. The conjured Ifrit was throwing around some strong attacks, but he was probably the Citrine.

The maybe-harpy tilted her head at me from her perch on the wall. “Don’t suppose we can call this a draw, caw?”

“I think the stakes are a little higher for me than they are for you, sorry. Could I ask you to surrender?”

“I cannot so easily withdraw, caw.” She sounded more flippant about it than sad.

I frowned, glancing around the room for other monsters and finding none. “Why?”

She drew her wings back. “Punished if we do not obey the law, caw.”

“…Are you in a situation you can’t get out of? A bad contract? Do you need—”

“Naw, caw.” She waved a clawed wing at me. The floating pinions turned in mid-air toward me, but didn’t move then.

I flipped Selys-Lyann into my hands. “Well, then…Sorry, I don’t think we can call this a draw.”

“Then die at my claw, caw!”

She flapped her wings in my direction, sending dozens of crystal-tipped feathers at me all at once.

I drew mana from some of the lines still connecting outside the room, sending a burst of transference to knock the pinions off course, but they passed right through the transference without resistance.

Impact in 0.4—

I swung Bright Reflection to the side in alarm, deflecting as many feathers as I could, but a few slipped through and pierced right through my shield sigil barriers to embed into my ice armor.

Then, the feathers began to glow brighter and brighter.

Oh, that’s never good.

I managed to tear three of the feathers out of my ice armor before they exploded.

Explosions at point-blank range were bad. Fortunately, only two of the feathers were still embedded in my armor at the time they detonated. Of those, one of them was in the ice around my chest, and the explosion largely hit the scale armor that I was wearing under my shirt.

The one on my leg, though?

That hurt, even with a regeneration item active to dull the pain immediately.

As my ice armor exploded along with the feather, I felt something sharp pierce my leg. Likely pieces of the feather, but I didn’t have a chance to look, because the harpy-like creature was flying downward at me, more floating pinions already forming in the air around her.

I didn’t know how her feathers were cutting through my defenses, but I did know that I couldn’t risk being hit by more of them, particularly in more vulnerable locations.

The harpy swooped downward, swinging a wing straight at my neck.

Impact angle—

I ducked, then lunged with a quick burst of transference pushing me forward, sweeping my sword straight upward. It barely clipped her, but Bright Reflection was a sword infused with potent light and spirit mana, and if she was a conjuration—

My sword hit her hip and bounced harmlessly away, deflected by a hardened shroud of shimmering mana. My eyes widened as I blasted myself back and to the side, barely managing to raise my sword in time to deflect a couple more feathers that spun at me. Another one grazed my face, once again ignoring my shroud entirely. It wasn’t a significant wound, but the implications of the exchange were concerning.

As she closed in again riding a burst of air, hissing and preparing to strike, I cleaved upward with Bright Reflection and sent a crescent of light in her direction. She flapped out of the way easily, but that bought me some time to move, and for my accelerated mind to process past the pain.

Anti-magic feathers of some kind. Doesn’t look like void, possibly something related to spell reflection like Dawnbringer’s or banishment like Mary’s.

Bright Reflection didn’t tear through her. She’s using a light-imbued shroud.

She’s not a conjuration. There’s more than one person making the monsters for this match.

Counters are…

I felt for my other threads.

The one to Jerome Schmidt’s sword, laying outside the room with my other weapons, was broken.

Resh.

My other best options were similarly severed. The void emitters were still connected to Jerome’s sword, but not to me. The string to my umbral mana battery had also been cut.

Without my lines to my mana batteries, I couldn’t maintain my Emerald-level aura much longer, either. I’d been pulling from my grey and transference batteries to keep it going without significantly diminishing my own mana. Given how useless my shroud was proving to be, I could have dropped the shroud to save the mana, but that would have looked strange to observers.

I needed to end this quickly, but my best means of doing so were out of reach.

Then the harpy was nearly on top of me, swinging vast wings like the blades of a guillotine. I parried one wing-swipe, nearly losing Bright Reflection from the force of the impact. Then I hurled a blast of light in her face at close range. She turned her head to the side to avoid it; she wasn’t immune, but the attack still barely distracted her.

She slammed her other wing down. My block wasn’t enough — her massive wing was too large to parry entirely when she used her full strength and she clipped my right arm, leaving a long gouge in my ice armor and drawing a bit of blood beneath. Then she kicked upward, taloned feet slamming into my chest.

I felt two points where it pierced my chest armor as I fell back, bleeding, and nearly hit the ground.

She’s almost a perfect counter to my abilities. I reached for my threads leading out of the room, trying to feel which ones still were still viable, and began to pull.

The harpy swept a claw down, severing my mana threads in mid-air.

One item tumbled through the doorway. Nothing else even made it that far.

“You thought those were a secret, but I saw, caw!” the harpy cackled.

I smiled at her. “I’d say your thinking has a bit of a flaw.”

She lunged at me again.

I activated my circlet, teleporting to the anchor that had just barely slid into the doorway.

Then, as the harpy wheeled around, I hurled Bright Reflection at her. As she dodged into the air, I flung a new mana thread out the doorway and landed it straight on Jeromy Schmidt’s sword.

When she charged again, I was already sending a burst of mana to pull my third sword into my hand.

The harpy descended from the sky, wings aiming new feathers at me.

I jumped up to meet her, drawing the sword in mid-air. My other threads still connected the sword to my void emitters.

I pulled on them as I drew, an overcharged surge of void mana blasting across the sword’s blade as I swept upward, straight across her chest.

The harpy fell to two pieces as I landed, re-sheathing the sword with a satisfying click.

“Caw.”

***

I cracked my neck as light returned to the room, rapidly pulling my other swords back to my hands with their threads, then stepping confidently out of the chamber.

That had almost been a disaster.

Sera had prepared me as well as she reasonably could have, using the hours prior to the test to confirm that a Conjurer was the most likely person to be administering the test. She’d tried to broker a deal, too, but there hadn’t been enough time to talk to everyone.

Instead, she’d given me a list of contracted monsters for the known Conjurers, but since Conjurers could theoretically make any monster they could imagine, I knew it wasn’t likely I’d be able to recognize what I was up against.

I hadn’t really needed to. As far as I could tell in retrospect, only the weaker three monsters had been Conjurations. They’d pulled in a Summoner for the last two — or some other contract.

I would have felt very bad if I’d just killed two Soulblade monsters permanently, but given how they’d behaved, I didn’t think it was likely.

That harpy had some kind of light-based anti-magic. Probably banishment. Can Summons even do that?

I frowned. It was possible, but since banishment was a classical direct counter to summons, it seemed like it shouldn’t be easy or common. The mana type should have been disruptive to the summon itself.

How did they work around that?

And more importantly…did they plan around the knowledge that I’d be using Bright Reflection as an anti-shade weapon, or was that a coincidence? And cutting my mana threads…was that planned from the start?

There were people who could have anticipated my plan. Obviously, I’d planned with Sera directly, but I didn’t think she would have sabotaged me. I trusted her.

Elora…I trusted a whole lot less, but I didn’t think she had the motivation to do it.

Who else? Maybe someone who really wanted me gone? Someone like whoever had tried to have me killed on the train?

Of course, it could have just been a coincidence. Any Emerald-level Summoner or similar would have some powerful creatures at their disposal. But I didn’t like how directly it had countered my strategy.

Who had been doing research on my capabilities?

That was concerning, if true. I’d already known that I had to be careful, but that encounter reinforced it further.

If I’m going to make it through the council, and contribute to the war…I’m going to need more. More power. More tricks that they don’t know.

And I’m going to have to figure out how to counter their own plays, too.

***

After gathering up my things and returning most of them to my bag, I kept one battery clipped onto my Belt of Swords, connecting it to a thread to continue fueling my shroud for another few minutes. Hopefully, it would keep me going long enough that I could deal with any follow-up conversation with the council before returning to my room to rest.

Rather than using my bag for my swords, I stored them back in the symbols on my belt. I hadn’t made use of the storage and release functions of the Belt of Swords during the fight for a few reasons, most of which came down to showmanship. But also, setting up the swords outside of the room had allowed me to attach them to the batteries, providing them with extra mana sources. I couldn’t have done that if they’d been stuck inside an extra dimensional space.

…Not at my current skill level, anyway. I briefly debated how difficult it would be to make mana threads that could reach into extra dimensional spaces, but that it was a whole new area of research that I didn’t currently have time for.

Len let me work, then gave me a nod. “Congratulations. It’s just the first step, but your performance was impressive. I think some of the council will be surprised.”

“I don’t suppose you could tell me who provided the monsters I fought?”

“Unfortunately, that would be considered offering you an unfair advantage. My position here is intended to be neutral. If I draw too much attention, it could threaten people in my care.”

She didn’t say anything further, but she didn’t need to. I understood. “I’ll figure it out. Or I won’t. It’s not the most important thing. I’m mostly just curious.”

“Reasonable. Just…don’t get too caught up in finding out and attempting any sort of reprisals. It won’t go well.” She adjusted her glasses. “Now, on to more important matters. Do you require any immediate healing?”

I inspected my wounds. The cut on my cheek was already regenerating. The other cuts were more significant, but nothing urgent. My regeneration from the silver phoenix sigil would handle them eventually. “No. I might not mind having a powerful healer looking me over at some point for other reasons, but these are just scrapes and bruises.”

“Excellent. That will help with your impression on the council further. This way.”

She led me back to the audience chamber, back to the stage.

Len spoke to the crowd. “You’ve all witnessed Master Cadence’s preliminary challenge. Are there any objections to his qualifications?”

Hannah Meiyer stood back up. “Edria does not object to his Emerald status. We do, however, have questions about his claims to being a wielder, especially in regards—”

“Oh, get off the wielder thing, Edria,” the Valian representative said. “You can quiz him about his frost sword later, this is his Emerald test. Can we stay on topic?”

“Not when we have significant questions about his apparent use of Dawnbringer, in addition to the supposed Flowbreaker. This is more important than an Emerald test and supersedes—”

I raised a hand. “If I may.”

Meiyer gave me a curt nod.

“This,” I patted the scabbard, which I’d kept out on my right hip, opposite Selys-Lyann, “is Bright Reflection. It’s a replica of Dawnbringer and I would not insult the true weapon by claiming it to be comparable to the original. It is, however, a replica forged by Keras Selyrian himself, and it could be said to contain a fraction of the original.”

Hannah’s eyebrows narrowed. “And, given your other claim, do you believe that to be enough to call yourself a wielder of Dawnbringer as well?”

I shook my head vehemently. “No, not at all. This sword is not even my own. It properly belongs to Patrick Wayland, my retainer, who is attending the council as a representative of Chancellor Meltlake of Lorian Heights.”

“Chancellor Melt…” Hannah frowned. “You mean Antonia Hartigan?”

I nodded. “That’s correct, although she prefers to use her new title over the Hartigan family name.”

“Right. And this Wayland’s relationship to her?”

“He’s her personal apprentice, much as I am Keras’.”

“Should we take that to mean that Keras Selyrian is in an alliance with Antonia Hart—”

“I think we’re getting overly off-topic,” the representative for East Edria said. “The boy has asserted no claim to the title of Wielder of Dawnbringer. The sword belongs to his retainer. Traditionally, one might even make the statement that the sword belongs to him, as does anything in his retainer’s possession, but even ignoring that, he clearly has the right to borrow something from a retainer for a challenge.”

I gave the unfamiliar East Edrian representative a nod. “That was my conclusion.”

“I do have to wonder why you’d choose to use it over Selys-Lyann, however.”

I made a hint of a frown. I wasn’t sure if I should answer that. “It’s a counter—”

“Irrelevant,” the Valian representative spoke up again. “Can we move on? We have other tests to run.”

“Not many,” Hannah replied. “And none are likely to be this significant.”

“I’m calling a vote,” the Valian said. “All those in favor of letting Master Cadence move on to the next step?”

Hands went up. All of them. Surprisingly, Hannah’s was first, rather than last like I might have expected.

“Very well. In that case,” Len spoke up, “we’re concluded. Congratulations, Master Cadence, on your first step. You are dismissed. We will discuss your second phase of testing with you tomorrow.”

Hannah hadn’t sat down. “We need to talk. Soon.”

I nodded to her directly. “I’d like that.”

“No.” She grimaced. “I don’t think you will.”

***

I left the room immediately, and found Sera waiting right outside, leaning against a wall. When she saw me, she looked startled at first, then…relieved, maybe?

“That was fast.” She tucked a book into her belt.

“Was it?” I asked.

“I was expecting a significant discussion. You must have passed very clearly. Or…failed?” She left the question lingering.

“I passed just fine. But we’re going to want to discuss things in private.”

“Of course. I’ll lead the way to our new room.”

***

We’d been assigned the exact same room — or, rather, set of rooms — that I’d stayed in with Sera last time I’d visited the spire. That must have been deliberate, but I wasn’t sure if it was on Sera’s part, Len’s, or Warren’s. I was too tired to ask.

It was as palatial as I remembered, with more than enough space for Sera, Mara, Patrick, and myself to stay comfortably. Patrick had actually been assigned an entire set of chambers to himself, since he had Meltlake’s invitation, but I saw some of his bags already set up in this room and had no objection.

After what had happened on the train, staying with everyone in close proximity felt safest.

First, I set up what I had left of anti-scrying defenses on the room. That wasn’t a lot, since I’d abandoned most of my anti-divination supplies in the destroyed train, but I still had the void emitters. They were heavily drained from overcharging my void sword, but they’d refilled enough to be turned on for a little while.

I checked Warren’s enchantments on the walls themselves and found them functional, but I wanted the redundancy my own defenses provided. Once that was all set up, I filled Sera in on what had happened during the test. She grimaced when she heard about the last two creatures being summons rather than conjurations.

“Do you think Elora summoned them?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, but the news is worse. I didn’t find out until after I took you to the chamber, but several members of the Dalenos delegation arrived right around when you went in. Best guess? They timed their arrival to be as inconvenient for us as possible, using something like a Seer’s visions and scrying magic to guide them, or perhaps just sending someone ahead.”

I frowned. “This building has significant anti-scrying protection.”

“But anti-seer protections? And keep in mind, they have access to Katashi himself.”

“Ugh. Do you think he’s actively managing their role here?”

“Possibly. Or he could have simply assigned it to someone else he trusts, with a lot of power behind them. Mizuchi, for example, or one of Genbu’s children. They could have the raw power to defeat anti-scrying defenses and centuries of knowledge to strategize better than a human Seer could.”

I grimaced. “Do we have any way of matching that? Get Seiryu into this?”

“No, I don’t think we could count on Seiryu or Suzaku’s direct help. One of their children, maybe. But the only one I have access to…”

“Satsuki. She’s not really much for spying or countering spies, is she?”

“Well, murder is a counter to spies.” Sera gave me a soft smile.

“I guess it is. Might not be the solution we need right at this moment, though. You planning to bring her over here later?”

“Very likely, but not right away. Let’s refocus. I can look into adding onto this place’s anti-scrying protections, but that’s something plenty of other people will be thinking about and working on.”

“Isn’t that exactly the kind of assumption that causes security failures? ‘Someone else is clearly going to be doing this, since it’s obvious and important?’ That sort of thing?”

“While ordinarily I’d agree with you, we both know Master Constantine is…sensitive about outside observation. If something beat his defenses, he’ll already be planning counters, looping in Len. I can ask about it, though.”

I nodded. “Okay. Back to the match. Who do you think brought in that monster?”

“I don’t know. My best guess is that they have an Emerald-level Summoner that wasn’t on the list — or maybe a multi-attuned Conjurer that is capable of creating things with light or even banishment. I remember one of the Dalenos Six being a multi-attuned Summoner in Keras’ story.”

“Is it even possible to conjure something with opposite mana types like that?” I asked.

“Technically, sure. Visages use all of the mana types. God beasts, too, supposedly. They have specializations, but they have access to all of it. Mizuchi was capable of using opposing elements — we saw that in her shroud composition. It’s generally only seen at the top of the power scale, though. It requires great skill to summon someone or something with mixed mana types, since you need to have a significant quantity of a stabilizing intermediary mana type as well, and then the control to make sure that they don’t mix improperly. It would be harder for a Conjurer than a Summoner, even with multiple attunements in play, but I think it’s doable. I’ll look into it.” She frowned. “You should get those injuries treated. And change. It doesn’t look good for you to walk around wounded.”

“Ah. Right.” I took a breath. “Is it okay if I just…kind of hide in here for a while, though? Today has been…a lot.”

“You’re going to need to talk to Hannah Meiyer at some point. She’s not going to be happy about what you’ve implied, but it’s an opening, and it could be a good one.” She patted her own leg, then stood up. “I’ll look into it further. Get that rest. You deserve it.”

“…Not sure I should rest, exactly. Not by myself.”

“Want Vanniv?” she asked.

“That might be a bit much.”

“I’ll send Mara up to keep watch, then.”

“Not Patrick?” I asked.

“I found a healer to work on him some more, now that things are calm. He’s better than he was, but…”

I nodded immediately. “Of course.”

Sera headed out after that. I spent a while just breathing heavily, processing. Then, eventually, I made myself move. I changed into pajamas, pinned my shield sigils on, set Selys-Lyann by my bedside, then got in bed.

Mara arrived not long after. “Heard you had quite a scrap.”

I waved a hand connected to a mana string, tossing her Bright Reflection. She caught it deftly with her remaining hand, looking startled at her own reaction.

“Let me fill you in.”

I told her what had happened — and, perhaps more importantly, that Hannah Meiyer was present…and seemed to have two hands. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was thinking about it.

If Hannah had found a way to get another functioning hand that worked for her, maybe Mara could do the same.

After I filled her in, she agreed to keep watch.

I worried that I wouldn’t be able to sleep with all the stress, but when she fiddled with dials that adjusted the lighting levels of the room downward and filled the room with chilled air, my eyes closed quickly, and comforting darkness found me shortly thereafter.

Chapter XV – Unreasonably Pale

I woke up alive, which was generally a good start, except when politics were involved in my day plan.

I let out a groan. Sera looked up from her book. She was sitting next to the door with one blanket draped across her lap and another wrapped around her like a cloak. I blinked at the realization that one of them was a seemingly ordinary blanket from her supplies, but the other was Mara’s security blanket from the Tiger Spire. In retrospect, I realized she’d probably been using the security blanket on the train as well, but I hadn’t noticed before.

I didn’t think the security blanket did anything special when she was just using it as a blanket, but I supposed it was a good emergency thing to have on-hand — if something tried to bust into the room, she could toss it on the floor to put up a barrier. It wouldn’t cover the whole room, but walling off the entrance would be helpful.

I waved to Sera quietly, then processed the room around me slowly. Sera raised a finger in a “ssh” motion, then gestured to the bed on the opposite side of the room. Mara was asleep there.

“Where’s Patrick?” I mouthed.

“Food,” she whispered back.

My stomach grumbled. Food sounded like a good idea.

I dragged myself out of bed, changed into day clothing, fastened my shield sigils and equipment back on, then went to Sera to whisper, “Is it morning?”

She nodded.

“You didn’t wake me for a watch shift?”

“The three of us decided you needed your rest. You pushed yourself last night after everything else we went through — and you have another fight today.”

Mara groaned lightly. Sera winced.

“No more talking. Go get food.”

I nodded. “Should I bring you something, or…?”

“That’d help.”

It would help me, too. It gave me an excuse to come back to the room and avoid talking to more people. It was a genius social avoidance plan.

I made it about three steps out of the room before it fell apart.

“Corin Cadence.”

I found Hannah Meiyer leaning against a wall in the hallway.

Was she waiting outside the entire night for me? No, that’d be absurd, but…

“Walk with me.”

She turned wordlessly and proceeded down the hall. After a brief petulant thought about turning the other way, I followed.

***

Hannah led me out of the Valian segment and to the stairwell, starting upward, presumably toward the Edrian sleeping quarters.

“Wait,” I said.

She turned. “We shouldn’t stop here.”

“Exactly.” I nodded. “Dueling chambers are this way.”

“I wasn’t dragging you off for a fight, but if that’s what you’re looking for…” The huge woman chuckled. “Happy to oblige.”

“Not that.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at another battle junkie. It was endearing in Keras’ case, but that was because I knew him. In most cases, it just felt excessive. “The dueling chambers have better anti-scrying security than the sleeping rooms. Some of them were just upgraded.”

Hannah raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure about that?”

“Checked personally.”

She looked like she was going to raise an objection at first, then shrugged. “Probably better if it doesn’t look like I’m taking a teenager to my bedroom in any case.”

I hadn’t even thought about that. “…Right. So. Dueling chambers.”

The one I’d used before was now occupied, which was annoying, because I preferred to be able to form habits and stick with them. I liked that dueling room. It was my dueling room now.

Still, waiting would have taken too long, and I was hungry and nervous, so we found an available one a couple rooms down. I flagged it as occupied by Emeralds, stepped in, double checked the security, and then turned to talk to Hannah.

“We should be secure.” I gave her a nod. “You have questions. That’s good. I have questions, too.”

“Oh?” She leaned back against one of the walls of the room, seeming to prefer that to just standing straight. Maybe her armor was uncomfortable? I briefly considered if I could improve armor balance and fit with enchantments, then realized I was staring at her rather than answering her question. “You there, Cadence?”

“Sorry, early, haven’t eaten. Mind blank.”

She grimaced. “Been there. Don’t worry, won’t take long. This isn’t an interrogation. Not yet, at least.”

She sounded entirely serious. I chuckled nervously. “Right. Questions for you mostly in regards to, uh, something that might be considered personal, and I don’t mean any offense—”

“Just spit it out. I’m not one for mincing words.”

I nodded. “I heard you lost a hand years ago, when Keras knew you. I haven’t gotten a good look, but it seems, uh, fixed. Or a prosthetic…I don’t know?”

“And?”

“And I want to know what approach you took, because one of my friends just lost a hand, and she’s not taking it well.”

Hannah’s expression faltered a bit, taken off guard. “Wait, really? That’s your question?” She sighed. “I might have misread you.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I thought you were another Alaric Cadence, especially after that little bout last night. But maybe you take after your Selyrian a little bit more than I expected.”

I frowned at the considerable degree of lost context. “I’m not sure about the comparison to my great grandfather, but I take it that the comparison to Keras is more positive?”

“It’s different. Probably more positive, but it offers its own problems. We’ll get to that. Or we won’t.” She fidgeted with her right gauntlet, then seemed to realize she was doing it. “He told you about how I lost my hand?”

I nodded. “He did. I know about Akad—”

“Avoid that name, even with security. Knowing he told you that much tells me a great deal, though. Helps verify your claim. He wouldn’t say that casually. Helps, mind you, doesn’t confirm. Before we go forward, do you have any way of proving he’s your teacher?”

“Aside from my Dawnbringer replica?”

“I’ll admit that your replica is good. He might have made it. But by your own admission, he didn’t give it to you. And you displayed virtually nothing of his fighting style.”

I grimaced. “If I was using a two-handed sword, maybe, I could show you what his forms look like, but…” I shook my head. “This will be easier and more convincing. I’m going to reach into a bag.”

“I’m not the type to panic at slight movements. Do your thing.”

I went into my bag and pulled out my box of memory crystals, flipping it open to reveal the crystals remaining inside. I’d removed the most important one, keeping it separate and secure. “This was his parting gift. Memory crystals of dozens of his fights, so I could study them after he left.”

“May I?” she asked, strangely intently, extremely focused.

This might be a bad idea, but…

I pulled one of the crystals out — a simple one I’d watched before, involving him fighting a squad of Tails of Orochi members. I handed it to her. “It’s one of the ones activated verbally with a command word.”

“Wait at a distance,” she instructed.

I walked to the opposite side of the room. This one wasn’t a long fight, at least.

“View.”

I waited.

The vision took a couple minutes of awkward silence. I used it to eat a snack from my bag.

When her eyes opened, she looked at me a little differently than before. Wary, but…respectful, maybe?

She tossed me the crystal. I caught it, then gingerly set it in the right slot in the box.

“Satisfied?” I asked.

“Not in the slightest. I’d rather see them all. But I get your meaning. Unless you murdered his actual apprentice, I can’t see a good alternate reason for you to have that. So, as far as I’m concerned, your story is true.”

I nodded. “Good.”

“And bad,” she said, folding her arms. “You might regret proving your claim. I’m going to need to take certain steps now. But I value the honesty in your gesture, so…” She tapped her wrist. “I got lucky. It was a single cut with an impossibly sharp weapon. I had it reattached with a combination of surgery and magic. The attunement was the real problem. Had to have Biomancers work getting the star veins working right, then agonizing training to use the attunement again. It still doesn’t always feel right, but it works. I got lucky. Is your friend in a similar situation?”

“No,” I said simply. “She isn’t.”

“Then the best I can offer is the that I wouldn’t have recovered nearly as cleanly without Biomancers involvement. Might be worth looking into, even if the hand isn’t salvageable.”

I nodded. “What about a god beast helping?”

“What, is that an option? Why would you be asking me if it was?”

I winced. “I figured it might have been an option in your case? I thought Edria Song—”

“You will refer to the emperor by her proper title.” Hannah’s voice was hard, and she was standing straight now.

“…Right. I apologize. When Keras told his story, he was…very casual with his name usage. And the emperor was still the crown princess at that time.”

“Selyrian referred to the emperor in casual terms?” she asked, suddenly intense.

“He did use the title crown princess most of the time, but, uh, he’s not always the most formal, and I can’t remember every single instance, but—”

She must have noticed my expression change. “You have my own apologies. I did promise this wouldn’t be an interrogation. Politics bring out the worst in me, and you brought back some unpleasant memories.”

I nodded. “I understand. That sounded like it was a difficult time.”

“You don’t know the half of it. Or…maybe you do. But I’d lose some respect for your mentor if he knew and didn’t come back.”

I blinked at that. “He didn’t tell me everything, but my impression is that he didn’t really have any contacts left in Edria after he left following the tournament. I don’t think he was keeping an eye on things. He was just trying to save his own home.”

“Save his own…?” She looked quizzical. “You know what? Whole different discussion. Not the time. I need to ask more pertinent things right now, so let’s roll this talk back a bit. You’re Selyrian’s apprentice. Are you here representing him?”

“Only in a sense that our interests tend to be in alignment.” I considered saying that he’d left prior to the declaration of war, but I didn’t want that information to be out.

If I’d just convinced a powerful individual in Edria that Keras was my teacher, that meant I had a new angle I could potentially use in discussions — that Keras was a potential asset that could intervene in the war. If I let it slip that he was in the Seventh Spire, or maybe even off-continent, that would undermine my own position.

I wasn’t good at lying, but Sera was (and I mean that with the utmost fondness), and I was reasonably good at leaving things open for people to draw their own (incorrect) conclusions. That was, at present, my plan.

“And what are those interests?” she asked.

“Avoiding war. Turning Kaldwyn’s resources toward where they’re needed more.”

“Meaning?”

“The reason you lost that hand in the first place. That man — that creature — was just a harbinger of things to come. His master, the—”

“No need. I know who you’re talking about. And you can say the Sun Eater. I don’t think that name is specific enough to be an issue. It’s not his real name, anyway.”

I frowned at that. “I know some others, but…”

“Then don’t say them. So, to confirm, Keras’ goal is to deal with the Sun Eater? And that’s what you’re here for as well?”

“To be clear, I’m not here about the Sun Eater. I’m here to try to stop an international war for a wide variety of reasons, the impending Sun Eater problem among them. Given your own experiences, I’m sure you can understand why that’s a priority.” I took a breath. “Could I convince you to help? I know Edria didn’t want to make it public what happened before, but my understanding is that the Sun Eater problem is much more imminent now. Staying quiet forever isn’t going to work.”

“It isn’t my place to make that choice. It’s not my role at this meeting.” Hannah shook her head. “Less so, now that I know what you’ve told me.”

I shook my head. “What is your role, then?”

“I am here to determine if this council is dangerous for Emperor Edria Song to attend.”

I nodded. That made some sense, at least, but… “Why did this conversation influence that? I didn’t intend to imply that the Sun Eater would act against us here or anything.”

“Oh, he very well might. That’s been accounted for and isn’t an issue.” She shook her head. “The problem, Corin Cadence, is that I believe you.”

“Meaning…”

“Keras Selyrian was a significant threat to the emperor. One of perhaps a half-dozen ones we’ve encountered in our lives, not counting entities powerful enough to hurt her, but with no motivation to, like the god beasts and visages. Now that I know that you are his apprentice, there are two problems. First, you may have a way to bring him here, causing a direct and significant threat to her person. Second, you might not fight like Keras Selyrian, but I heard about how you defeated your father, and I saw what you were capable of in the preliminary phase of the trial. You are nowhere near as strong as Keras was, even in the tournament, but I am beginning to understand that you might be a different kind of threat.”

I braced myself for hostility, but I sensed nothing of the sort. If anything, she seemed…resigned?

“So, because Keras or I might be a threat, the emperor won’t attend, and you can’t make decisions related to helping with the war?”

Hannah Meiyer gave me a sad smile. “You misunderstand me, Corin Cadence. We have the opposite problem. I’m not here to guard the emperor from danger. I’m here to assess if there’s anyone dangerous enough to warrant her interest.”

She folded her hands together. “When I walk out of here, I’ll be letting the emperor know what I just learned. Congratulations, Corin Cadence. You’ve earned yourself an audience with the ruler of the most powerful nation on Kaldwyn. Try not to make her too excited. I’m still cleaning up what Selyrian left behind.”

***

I tried not to think too much about the implications of attracting the attention of the Emperor of Edria.

I failed, of course.

Well, on the plus side, it sounds like she’ll be positively disposed toward me…?

No, that’s probably not a positive. Keras getting her attention nearly led to a different kind of international war.

I guess I can finally tell Keras I’m following in his footsteps? Ugh. Mistakes were made.

Finally, I went for breakfast. I needed breakfast. And, weirdly, I needed someone to talk to.

That was a change. During my years of isolation, I’d gotten used to just turning things over in my mind and fighting with them myself, over and over. But in the brief respite that was living at Derek’s home, I’d…gotten used to people, at least a bit. Being able to bounce things off a sister and peers.

And…older male figures in my life I trusted, too. I wasn’t quite ready to think about how to classify Derek and Keras’ roles in my life, but they were present in a way that others hadn’t been for a very long time. And now they were gone.

I pushed down that thought, focusing on the people who were still available.

Patrick was looking better when I found him at breakfast, both medically — he’d clearly received expert treatment and was looking little more than haggard — and in terms of demeanor. In fact, I hadn’t seen him talking as animatedly as he had been in weeks. Not since the Saffron incident.

The reason for his improved attitude was clear.

“Don’t think you can put off showing me that sword forever,” Vermillion teased him, eliciting an obvious blush. “You keep talkin’ it up like that without drawin’ it, I’m never gonna believe you.”

Patrick coughed. “I, uh, would be happy to demonstrate, you know, swordplay, and, uh—”

People were difficult for me to deal with, but even I could tell that Patrick could use a bit of a rescue. And I needed one too, given what I’d just run into.

I approached their table. “Am I interrupting? This isn’t your date, is it?”

“No no no, not a date,” Patrick stammered.

“Not yet,” Vermillion told him firmly. “We gotta find a good spot fer that, more private-like. And no, Cadence, you aren’t interruptin’.”

She never actually turned to speak to me, keeping her eyes on Patrick the whole time. I couldn’t tell if there was actual interest in there or something more predatory.

Well, at least she’s not a serpent girl who looks at me like a literal predator.

…That may be unfair to Satsuki. She actually seems nice. Maybe I should talk to her at some point, she could probably use a friend right now, given everything that’s going on.

“Food is over there,” Patrick indicated. “Do you want me to get you something, or…?”

Vermillion’s gaze seemed to darken a little when he made that offer. Strange.

“No, it’s fine. I can get my own plate. Thanks, Patrick.” I grabbed some food — a cinnagar roll and breakfast potatoes — and some juice. Then, I sat back down. They’d shifted their conversation to less provocative topics, which meant Patrick’s blushing had ceased, and he looked a little more intent.

“…which is why you should consider joinin’ our bloc. Meltlake clearly would be with us on this, you have’ta agree,” Vermillion urged.

Patrick seemed contemplative. “She certainly doesn’t support the current dominance of nobles in politics, but I’m not sure this is the time to try to create a bloc to extract concessions from the nobility in order to take basic actions in support of Valia as a whole.”

“If this isn’t the time, when will it be? Right now, we’re actually poised to do somethin’ meaningful. Without a united Valia, we’re gonna get torn to shreds in any council negotiations. We know that, the nobles know that. We need representation. Now is a time we might actually be able to get it.”

“I’m late to the talk,” I said, poking a bit of potato with my fork, “but if I understand the argument, you’re talking about a voting bloc withholding votes on major issues until something changes in the Valian government structure?”

“Not quite that far. We’d make the votes when there’s a formal, contractual agreement to make those changes. Even we understand that actually implementing the changes is going to take time.”

I frowned. “I can understand your reasoning, but…isn’t war a time when we should all be showing a united front?”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d say that. Easy to talk about unity when yer standin’ tall on the backs of the common folk.”

“That’s not really fair,” Patrick said. “Corin fought the Sons of Valia, and he’s never been anything but kind—”

“In hirin’ ya to scrape at his feet.” Vermillion rolled her eyes. “You’re so integrated into the system you don’t even see the boots on your back.”

Patrick looked aghast at how quickly the conversation had turned.

I, at least, was trained — for better or worse — in political debates. This didn’t faze me the way it seemed to for him. Maybe because I didn’t have the same investment in her opinions.

But beyond that, it was something I’d already put a lot of thought into.

“Vermillion is right,” I said, seeming to surprise them both. Eyes turned to me. “At least in part. I can’t speak to understanding the nuances of all the issues in play here, and for that reason, I’m not really comfortable immediately throwing my support behind any sort of voting bloc. But I get why you’re passionate about this, Vermillion. I don’t know what your whole situation was prior to the last few months, but I know you just lost close a friend because of the nightmare that was the Sons of Valia, and that’s a direct consequence of our political structure being stagnant for too long. If that had happened to Patrick — and it almost did — I would have been ready to cross blades with anyone who disagreed with me about the need for immediate and significant change. I get it.”

Vermillion’s expression softened, then turned suspicious. “Strong words, Cadence. I’d thank ya, but I’ve ‘eard sweet whispers from your kind before.”

I nodded. “You have to know I was a part of the takedown of the Sons of Valia, too.”

“Sure, and I’ll clap for that, but there are always more angles for nobles. Could be that you just had a bone to pick with the houses involved and wanted your own house in a better spot. I know some of the people helping us were like that. Didn’t even bother to hide it.”

I looked from side-to-side. “Should we really be talking about this in public?”

“I don’t have anything to hide. Vek anyone who still supports the Sons of Valia. If they’re still hiding in this crowd and want to throw down, believe me when I say that I’ll take that challenge any day, any time.”

Patrick looked conflicted. “…That might not be wise, when those people are probably Emeralds.”

“Or whatever those weird multi-attuned monsters are. Yeah, I know. Believe me, I’ve got a trick or two of my own.” She folded her arms.

“I’d like to see that sometime,” Patrick said, a little quieter.

She looked a little happier at that remark, but the time for the flirtation had obviously passed. It didn’t do as much as it might have earlier in the conversation.

“Okay,” I said, raising a hand in a “slow down” gesture. “Vermillion—”

“Rose.” She rolled her eyes. “No one calls me Vermillion.”

“Right. A direct question, then. You’re talking about building a commoner’s bloc. But aren’t you working with Elora Theas?”

She sighed. “Sure, someone’s gotta pay the bills. I know what I’m getting into and she knows what she’s payin’ for. Mary is…maybe a little less worldly about these things. Gets it in her head that anyone who says a few nice words and pats her on the head is one of the good guys. I’ve seen too much.” Rose shook her head. “You can’t do politics without involvin’ people in power. Well, or removing them entirely, but I can’t do that on my own.”

The weight of that statement was obvious, but even if she was willing to speak openly with those sorts of implications, I wasn’t going to follow it up. Dealing with one assassination attempt this week had been enough.

“And you don’t think that Elora is going to guide any sort of commoner’s bloc toward her own advantage, if she’s involved?”

“She’ll certainly try. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to just take all the non-noble Emeralds and do our own thing, but there ain’t enough. Even if I qualify as an Emerald myself, it’s not going to be easy to sway more people.”

“…Are you intending to try?”

“Thinkin’ about it. I know what you and Mary are trying to do. She wants to talk to you about that soon, by the way. And…nice work with your match. Heard it was a good one.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

Rose gave me a half-nod, seeming to respect my combat ability more than anything else I’d managed. “Since Mary does like you, if you end up playing well together, maybe I’ll talk to you more later. For now…yer food must be gettin’ cold, and I’ve got more work to do.” She pushed herself up from the table. “Sorry, Patrick. Can we pick this up later?”

“Y—yeah. Sure. Any time.”

A quick nod, then she headed off, presumably to see if she could find any other candidates for her faction.

I took a deep breath. “Sorry if I ruined your breakfast. I was hoping to help.”

“No. You’re…I needed the assist. I like Rose, but she’s intense. Very intense. Passionate. That…I think that’s a good thing, but I’ve never been politically minded. I think I might need to brush up on some things to keep up with her?”

“That might be a good idea either way.” I gave him a nod. “I have a feeling that, Sera aside, none of us were really ready for this. And we’re going to need to make some hard choices soon, whether we’re ready or not.”

***

It wasn’t long after breakfast — and bringing food back to Sera, as promised — before I had my next discussion. At least in this case, it was one I was prepared for.

“Corin, can we talk privately?” Mary Hawthorne asked.

I was already getting into a routine of taking people to the dueling chambers for private chats, and I had a pretty good idea about what this was going to be concerning, so I didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

We stepped into the dueling chamber, marking it as occupied and closing the door. I double checked the defenses on the room, just in case someone had tampered with them while I was gone, then we got to talking.

“Congratulations on succeeding in your first match. I’m told it was an impressive performance.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“If my read on you is right, we can dispense with the formalities?” she asked.

“Please. It’s been one day and I’m already exhausted with the political talk.”

“Same. I’m very, uh, not used to this.” Her expression faltered for a moment, showing a hint of vulnerability. Knowing — or at least strongly suspecting — who she worked for, I had to wonder if that apparent vulnerability was real or calculated. Or a bit of both, maybe.

As much as I loathed to recall my education on politics, the message that a lie was most convincing when it contained a bit of truth was something that I wouldn’t easily forget.

“I hope it gets easier,” I said honestly. “I take it you’re here to ask for assistance in appearing to be an Emerald?”

She blinked. “Even more direct than I expected, but yes. That’s it. I need to get in early. As I’m sure you were informed, people from Dalenos have started to arrive. I’m told they already got involved in your match.”

“I heard that, too. A summon showed up at the end that I wasn’t fully prepared for.”

“But you still handled it. An Emerald-level Summon, without proper preparation.” She frowned. “How? If you’ll forgive me, that shouldn’t be possible, especially while you’re recovering.”

“I’m not going to tell you everything, but in the spirit of whatever this nascent alliance of ours is, I’ll give you what Elora has probably already figured out. It’s mostly that I’m over-geared for my level. I have mana batteries to supplement my mana pool, shield sigils, several magic swords for different circumstances.”

“Including a void sword, correct?”

I nodded. It wasn’t a secret.

“I might need to borrow that. And, of course, have you do whatever tampering you need to do with my attunement to make me look like an Emerald, please.”

I frowned. “Why would you want the sword?”

“Same reason you needed it, I suspect. Banishment isn’t equally effective against all mana types. If I run into something like a light elemental — or worse, a banishment elemental — there’s a chance they could shape it or even reflect it at me. Given what happened in your match, I think that’s plausible.”

“But…Can you use a sword?”

“Honestly? Not great with one. Rosie is the sword fighter. But if it comes down to a situation where banishment arrows don’t work, I’m better off having a backup plan.”

“Yeah, sure, no disagreement. Just was thinking the sword wouldn’t necessarily be the best option, when you could just use a void emitter—”

“…A what now?”

“Oh.” It turned out I was very bad at keeping my abilities secret after all. “Let’s discuss options and costs.”

***

Mary Hawthorne’s right hand trembled as she stepped into the room, but her green aura flared brightly under my Detect Aura spell. She nervously reached up to adjust the new circlet of black metal on her forehead, which had replaced the one I’d usually seen her wearing.

As I was not yet an Emerald or member of the council, I wasn’t a part of determining if Mary was qualified to be there. I wasn’t given permission to sit in the audience chamber.

Instead, I was sitting in a nearby waiting room with Len, gazing into a tall, enchanted mirror on the wall that showed the interior of the trial chamber.

As a competitor, using my influence with Len to watch Mary’s fight was probably some kind of cheating. It was, however, exactly the type of “cheating” that was expected at this sort of political event.

And this sort of cheating was a lot more convenient than trying to break through the anti-scrying runes on the room on my own. Mary was wearing multiple items I’d made, so I had the means to target her with divination spells with relative ease. I’d considered it, and I thought it might be doable, but it would take a ton of mana and effort, and I couldn’t be subtle about it.

No, lounging on a couch with Len, a bowl of pretzels between us, was much nicer.

“She’s terrified,” Len remarked.

“You think she’ll fail?” I asked.

Len was quiet for a moment, then shook her head.

“No,” she whispered. “Hers is the terror that moves, not the terror that freezes.”

The room went black.

And, as Len suggested, Mary moved.

An arrow tore through the darkness like paper, slamming into the chest of a monstrous ape-like being with four arms, which promptly disintegrated.

Mary’s aura flared around her, a dome of light that burned blindingly bright in the still-shaded room. There was a hint of sound, then her hand blurred at her bowstring. She hadn’t drawn an arrow — it simply formed as she pulled the bowstring back, then launched forward into a creature that didn’t even finish solidifying before the arrow took it dead-center. Then, nothing.

Mary took another step forward.

A hiss sounded from behind her.

Mary snapped her fingers. Her aura flattened, then flashed backward like a crescent moon circling her from back-to-front.

A ten-foot-tall ogre growled…then a line appeared across the creature’s body, from bottom to top. It split in half vertically where Mary’s light had passed through it like a scythe blade.

She stepped forward.

As the next creatures appeared around her, a half-dozen red-skinned goblinoid creatures in crimson caps, she whipped her left hand horizontally. Her aura followed, still compressed into a line, and cleaved through them like wheat.

Mary stepped forward—

And faltered as the room shifted from darkness to pale grey light.

A tall man, gangly and pale, stood on the opposite side of the room. He wore a gleaming silvery diadem on his forehead attached to a thin, glittering chain. The chain attached to an amulet around his neck, then further on to the hilt of the tremendous, curved sword held at rest against his shoulder.

An arrow of pure light flashed across the room—

And turned grey as it came into his aura, its light flickering and dying as he caught it absently in his free hand.

“Now this,” the ashen-skinned man remarked, “reminds me of something I haven’t seen in a very long time.”

Mary took one step back. Then another. Then another.

The regal man smiled. His hand tightened.

Mary’s arrow of faltering light snapped between his fingers.

“You already know who I am, don’t you, little girl?” the pale man asked.

He stepped toward her.

Another arrow flashed across the room. He didn’t bother to catch this one — he simply turned his head aside and let it fly past him, dissipating harmlessly as it struck the back wall.

“You’re just a conjuration. A figment of the true Pale King.”

“Am I, now?”

He seemed to slide across the floor with his next step, arriving next to Mary without clearly moving through the intervening space. It…wasn’t like any teleportation I’d seen. It was more like…he’d just walked, and the space next to Mary was the next logical step for him to be.

Mary didn’t move, but her aura did, spinning in a circular motion around her to cleave through the Pale King.

It hit him in the midsection and stopped dead, pushing against his unarmored body without cutting. Sparks flew from contact between banishment and whatever magic he held, but if it caused him any discomfort, the Pale King didn’t show it.

“Now, now, dear. You should know better than to use such a faulty translation. After all, you’re a long way from home, aren’t you? And where we come from, you should know that there is only one thing to do in the presence of your Ashen Lord.”

He leaned in close to Mary.

“Kneel.”

The force of his word hit me like a punch in the gut, even watching through the crystal. I gritted my teeth, feeling something pushing down on my spirit—

And I flared my own spirit mana in response, pushing aside the influence of the Pale King’s spirit that had slammed into me.

Sakki.

I’d felt it more than once, now. From Katashi, from Wrynn Jaden. Something similar from Keras, although my elementary reading on spirit arts had taught me that what he was manifesting was technically kenki, or sword intent, a subtly different form of spirit projection.

This, though?

This was killing intent, plain and unadorned.

It had barely brushed against me, far from the room in which the battle was happening, and it had still nearly bowled me over.

Len weathered it better, but even she briefly showed a look of concentration. I saw a brief manifestation of something as she countered it. Presumably, as a creature formed from the Spirit Gateway Shrine, she was much more adept at spirit manipulation than I was.

Mary, however…

Mary fell.

I didn’t expect it. I figured she’d have some sort of overpowered counter, some kind of specialized defense for whatever out-of-context problem she faced. Every time I’d seen her fight, she’d been ahead of me in power.

But in this case?

It turns out fighting an Emerald when you’re not one is, at times, not an equation you can fully counter with other tricks.

She hit the ground on her knees.

The Pale King raised the crescent-shaped sword in his hand, looking almost disappointed.

“I’d expected more from the wielder of that bow. Alas, it would appear that you are the figment, dear. A fake, just like she was.”

Mary whispered something.

“What was that?” the Pale King asked, frowning.

He leaned in closer.

And Mary Hawthorne slammed her black circlet into his forehead.

That, I knew, would not cause him the slightest harm. Not physically, anyway. I knew of the Pale King’s armaments, and even if this copy didn’t have the same versions that Keras had won in the Tournament of the Sacred Sword, the facsimiles he wore clearly glowed under Detect Aura. They were Emerald-level items, with the amulet providing Emerald-level defenses.

But like shrouds and many defensive items, it didn’t work particularly well when you got inside the aura it made. And that black circlet Mary was wearing?

That was one of my void emitters, with the power transferred into a new item in the hours before the match.

When she slammed the void emitter into his face, it turned on, bathing the area in void mana — one of the few types that could counter the stasis-type defenses of the Pale King’s magic.

We hadn’t known that they’d use the Pale King. I hadn’t the faintest idea who could summon a copy of him, nor had the option been on the list, in spite of knowing someone had summoned him during the tournament against Keras.

We’d just prepared for anyone who could counter banishment. We’d gotten lucky.

It still didn’t work.

The Pale King’s face distorted for a moment as the void mana rippled outward, his amulet’s glow briefly faltering—

Then he smashed her in the face with the pommel of his sword.

Mary fell backward, her jaw bleeding. I could see the cracks in the air where he’d punched straight through her shield sigil’s barrier without the slightest difficulty. The rippling field of void remained active around her, clashing against the power of the Pale King’s grey aura, but losing.

It was just one void emitter, after all. Sunstone-level against an Emerald-level monster with Emerald-level equipment. Even with void being an excellent counter to summons, it simply wasn’t enough.

The Pale King laughed as Mary spat blood, then fired another arrow from the ground. He swept his sword out this time, splitting the arrow in two, and leaving a glimmering field of force hanging in the air where the cut had been made.

I grimaced.

I knew how that sword worked. The Pale Crescent would leave phantasmal cuts in the air with every swing, which would then answer to various commands, moving in different ways.

When Keras had fought the Pale King, he’d dodged his way around the massive throne room, observing the Pale King’s powers and learning to counter them. He had prodigious speed and power and Dawnbringer at his side.

Mary Hawthorne had a room that was, charitably, a tenth that size to work with and a bow that, while seemingly powerful, already had proven not to work.

The Pale King advanced. Mary’s arrows shattered against his defenses, her expression increasingly desperate. Finally, as wounds continued to gather in the air of the room, the Pale King’s sword began to transform. The curved blade stretched and grew, and along with it, I could see the weapon’s power thrumming around it, distorting the air.

He pointed his sword in her direction. “An all-too-brief reunion ends. Low tide.”

The crescent cuts in the air shook for a moment — then surged in Mary’s direction.

And Mary…smiled?

She slammed her bow into the ground, then dragged the bottom in a line. I blinked in confusion. That was no way to treat a bow, but…it left a white trail on the ground.

Then she stood still as dozens of flashing blades converged on her — and slammed harmlessly into the air right in front of her, as if they’d struck a solid wall.

Mary stepped around the line, glancing at the cutting projectiles that were seemingly stuck in place. “I was hoping you’d do that. I was worried that if you didn’t, it might mean you were real. That you had some knowledge of what you were dealing with. But I was right from the start — you’re better than I’d guessed, but you’re still just an approximation. One born from legend and distorted memory, not from truth. I don’t know what sort of fool made you,” she sounded bitter, “but they haven’t tampered with the seal.”

The Pale King smiled in return. “The ‘seal’? Is that what they’re telling children these days? Oh, little human. You will soon find that your idea of truth is far from complete. And that while I may have a few tricks born from legend alone,” he plunged his sword into the ground, “that’s only because I can learn.”

The crescents in the air flickered, then surged backward, converging on the sword thrust into the ground. They vanished as they touched it, and as they did, the sword’s blade twisted in the ground, shifting and grinding the stone around it and blackening the air.

When the Pale King pulled the sword free, it was a colossal mass of black metal, no longer showing even a hint of resemblance to the moon-like luster of the original.

Mary took a step back as the Pale King swung. It didn’t help.

His swing drew a horizontal black line through the air as he swept it in a half-circle in front of him. As that line traced along the walls, it tore straight through the stone, dozens of layers of protective runes fracturing and failing at once. Without deeper redundant defenses on the walls of the rooms beyond, it might have cleaved straight through the entire tower.

When his cut struck the air in front of Mary, the same invisible force that had stopped his crescents manifested as a visible shield with a barely visible line now traced across it. The shield seemed to hold—

Until he walked closer, shook his head, and blew on it.

The top of Mary’s barrier fell off.

She drew and fired.

He let the arrow hit him straight in the necklace. Color bled outward from it for an instant, causing the man to frown, then he shook his head and pointed in her direction.

Mary slammed into the back wall of the room. A transference effect or something similar, strong enough to shake the room — and to hold her in place, her legs hanging suspended off the floor.

Her arms strained visibly against the force, and she let out a cry as he walked closer, lifting his pitch-black sword and jamming it into the wall next to her ribs. Then, he dragged it closer, inch by inch. Her shroud flared, then failed. Her shield sigils cracked.

Then the sword was cutting into her ribs, leaving blood trailing across her white robes.

“I wish I could say I ended your predecessor like this, but alas, someone beat me to it. I wonder if her allies ever realized.” He leaned in. “Do you yield, little Saint?”

“I’m not the Saint,” Mary said with renewed confidence. Her bow, still in her hand, glowed for a moment—

The Pale King reached up, grabbed it, and tore it out of her hands, tossing it to the floor. “None of that. Now, what do you mean?”

“I meant what I said. I don’t think I’m meant to be the next Saint. But,” she gave a soft smile, “I think she might be the Hero.”

Mary snapped her fingers—

And the grey aura suffusing the room gave way to Vermillion.

The Pale King recoiled as the room’s color shifted, spinning and swinging his colossal sword at a figure who manifested in the air behind him.

Vermillion Rose flicked her own sword to the right, a minimalist and effortless movement, and drove the Pale King’s sword into the ground.

Then her sword flicked up to his neck. “Your move, Ashen Lord.”

His eyes focused on the young woman in front of him, taking in her short red hair and the determination in her expression…then, his expression softened. “Is it truly you?”

“Can’t say I know what you mean, but if you’re talking about that Hero business, I genuinely have no idea.”

The Pale King chuckled. “That sounds like you.”

He glanced backward at Mary, for a moment, who was reaching for her bow, then shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.”

Mary’s eyebrow went up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know who made this,” he waved in Rose’s direction, “but I won’t fight her. I keep my promises.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rose pulled her sword back, stepping into a guard stance, then, then circling to get in front of Mary. She looked wary, but more than that…annoyed, maybe?

“It means, my dear,” he bowed his head to Rose, “from one fake to a pair of others, I offer my unconditional surrender.”

With that, he stood up straight, sheathed his sword, and shattered like glass.

I blinked, confused. Rose and Mary blinked right along with me.

“…Huh,” Mary said. “That raises questions.”

“Yeah, you think?” Rose’s jaw tightened, sheathing her sword. “We need to talk to whoever summoned him.”

“Later.” Mary said. “For now…”

The room brightened, darkness fading.

“…I think we won?”

“Yay,” Rose said entirely without enthusiasm.

***

I sat looking at the mirror with a frown. “…Do you have any idea what that was all about?”

Len stood up. “I have ideas, but nothing conclusive. I don’t think it’s my place to share them.”

“Ugh. Secrets.” I groaned.

“You’re one to talk.” Len smiled. “You have quite a few of your own.”

“That’s—” I pondered. “True, I guess.”

“Can’t chat. Need to go escort the girls back to the audience chamber.”

“Was…whatever happened with Rose there…allowed? She’s like, another contestant entirely, right?”

“That’ll be discussed. It’s likely to come down to the exact mechanism by which Rose appeared in the room. If Rose came in through her own abilities, it’s not likely to be considered a valid move. If Mary summoned her, it’s possible, but humans can’t usually summon other humans. Something as simple as Mary carrying a return bell anchor for Rose wouldn’t be allowed, but…” Len shook her head. “I have to go.”

“Bring them here, maybe?”

“We’ll see how they feel after this. Mary probably needs rest.”

I nodded. “That’s reasonable.”

I wanted answers, but I could understand needing a break after the match. Mary’s injuries didn’t look particularly severe, but it was hard to tell how hard she’d been rattled by being slammed against the wall, or if being cut along the ribs by the Pale King’s transformed sword might have done more than just leaving an ordinary wound.

On this rare occasion, I actually got what I was hoping for. Len returned only a few minutes later, trailing Mary and Vermillion behind her.

“Hey,” I said from the couch. “You did great in there.”

“Not really.” Mary shook her head, slipping the circlet off her head. It briefly got stuck in her hair, so Vermillion helped her work its way out before handing it off to me. “At the start, maybe. But someone knew a little too much about how best to counter my abilities, much like you mentioned for your match. I had to make a move I was hoping to save for the last round.”

“Summoning Rose?” I asked.

“Yeah.” She frowned briefly. “Was it like that for you, too? Someone trying to draw out your best moves before you wanted to show them?”

I considered that. “I don’t know. Could have been a long-term strategy like that. Could have just been a direct counter to certain mana types I was known to have. It didn’t seem as…personal, as whatever that was with the Pale King?”

I left the implication open. Mary nodded amiably. Vermillion tensed, her hands tightening.

“That was a low blow,” Vermillion said. “Someone has to be followin’ us, Mary. That was…”

“That’s not the only answer.” Mary shook her head. “Our ‘patron’ knew about all that, too.”

“Don’t think he’s got a good reason to mess with us here.”

“Not what I meant.” Mary paused, considering. “It’s more like…I think there are a few ways people could figure it out. I haven’t been keeping the bow hidden. You’re not hiding your sword, either. People could recognize things, make connections.”

Vermillion frowned. “With what little they know, what’re the odds o’ that?”

“It’s not about odds,” Len said. “It’s about opposition research. And Dalenos has Seers. They’re not just good for brief glimpses into the future. Many of them are scholars, and they’re a little less culturally resistant to talking about other continents than people from Valia.”

“I think I’m catching about a third of this,” I said. “You two have a personal investment in the Pale King, who is somehow connected with your weapons. Enemy of their previous wielders or something?”

“That’s a lot more than a third,” Vermillion grumbled.

“See what I mean? Just a bit of context and he’s got most of it.” Mary shook her head. “To answer your question, Corin, the ‘Pale King’ is Kaldwynian translation for the ‘Ashen Lord’, the King of Fiends, an extraplanar species that conquered most of the continent of Dania about four hundred and thirty years ago.”

I frowned at the timing. That wasn’t far from the time of the exodus from Mythralis to Kaldwyn or the weirdness with Keras’ homeland. Certainly could be a coincidence, but I didn’t want to count on it. “And your weapons were used to fight him?”

“Right. You know the stories. Party of legendary heroes, traveling to save the world and all that. My older sister ended up with this bow, then handed it off when—”

“Don’t think he needs ‘ta know this much, Mary.” Vermillion shook her head.

“He’s a friend,” Mary responded. “We could use friends right now,” she added a little quieter, but still clearly audible.

Was I a friend?

I was pretty sure I wasn’t, at least by my standards, but I was trying to be better about that kind of thing.

Rather than push too much, I replied, “I was happy to help. Sorry the circlet didn’t work out.”

“It did its job. Good chance it helped save me in there, too. I think it did make him weaker, even if didn’t break Shining Alone’s effects.”

It took me a moment to place the name, then I remembered that Shining Alone was the name of the Pale King’s amulet. It supposedly “time locked” him, giving him a formidable form of stasis-based effect that allowed him to function, but without being changed by outside effects. It was breakable — Keras had proven that against the version he’d fought — but obviously that had been just a facsimile of the real thing.

Which was, it seemed, still the case with this guy…but maybe a bit less so?

“About that. He seemed to be acting like he was trying to convince you he was real. Intimidation tactic, or…?”

“He did what now?” Vermillion asked, turning to Mary. “You didn’t say that.”

“You saw the end of it,” Mary replied. “Surrendering as soon as he saw you? That’s weird, Rosie.”

She growled. “And not very fair.”

“You mean because she got an unfair advantage?”

“Course not. I mean it’s unfair I didn’t even get to take a shot at ‘em. Ugh.” Vermillion threw up her hands. “Do you have any idea how much it’d be worth to fight a good copy of the actual Ashen Lord? When we go home—”

“Rosie,” Mary interrupted. “Now you’re oversharing.”

I frowned. “Are you implying this extraplanar ‘Lord of Fiends’ is like…around and active?”

They both went silent.

“Lovely,” I said with a sigh. I turned to Len, “You’ve been quiet.”

“I’m mostly debating if it’s worth letting Keras know about this.”

Vermillion tensed again, her hand drifting toward her sword, but she didn’t say anything.

“I think he’s busy enough,” I replied, trying to read the source of the reaction and failing. Not enough context. “Maybe after the current world-ending threat is dealt with.”

“I was coming to the same conclusion,” Len said with a sigh. “Girls, I should advise you against using that summoning technique again. They let it slide for this match, but if you keep using it, it’ll look like Mary can’t win her fights alone.”

“We know,” Mary said. “That’s why I wanted to save it.”

“How’d you pull it off?” I asked. “Return anchor?”

She shook her head. “It’s, uh, unusual magic?”

“Danian magic? Essence sorcery?”

“You really have been overplayin’ yer hand,” Vermillion remarked.

“Not my fault. This is a lot of pressure. And he’s a friend,” she repeated.

“Uh-huh. He’s also not Kuro.”

Mary recoiled. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“You were, you just didn’t think it. I don’t blame ya.” Vermillion reached out, ruffling Mary’s already messy hair. “I miss ‘em, too. But we can’t just stick someone else in as our third like that and expect it to be the same. You can’t fix a wagon with a broken wheel.” She turned to me. “No offense.”

“Not offended.” I frowned. “Not a broken wheel, either, but I get the analogy. Puzzle piece that doesn’t fit.”

“More about function than form, but yeah. Maybe a wheel that’s the wrong size. But we’re overexplainin’. Yer not the same person he was.” Rose turned back to Mary. “Hurts us both, but—”

“It’s not that.” Mary’s face twisted. “Not just that, anyway. We really do need help, Rosie. This is too much for just us. It was too much even for Belle and Briar, and they…”

Tears welled up in her eyes. Vermillion reached over, wiping them away. “Easy, there. Might be that they’re okay.”

“They probably aren’t.”

I didn’t know the exact details about what was happening, but I knew a thing about worrying about losing siblings, and I got the impression this was very similar.

I was about to say that very fact when, in this rare circumstance, I realized I’d be playing into exactly the type of “replacing a lost friend” idea that Vermillion was being so critical about. So, I held my tongue on that, and simply flipped back to focusing on the subject at hand.

“I’m sorry that this is hard for you. If you need allies, I’m happy to keep helping. Maybe make you some more tools before your next match.”

“That’d…be good.” Mary stepped back from Rose, wiping her eyes with her own sleeve. “Thank you. I already owe you for today. And…before anything else alarming happens, maybe we can get that out of the way?”

I nodded. “If you’re up for it. Do you need to be healed first?” I gestured at her bloodstained robes.

“Oh.” She blinked. “Already got a healer before I came here, I just haven’t changed. Sorry. That’s a little embarrassing.”

I shook my head. “A little blood doesn’t bother me. Okay. If you’re ready?”

She nodded. “Ready when you are.”

I tapped the Belt of Swords on my waist. Vermillion tensed as a sword appeared in my hand.

I flipped Selys-Lyann over, handing it to Mary by the hilt.

She took a seat on the couch, frowning. Then, her eyes flashed, her irises overwhelmed by a swirling mixture of black and gold.

I blinked at the sudden change. It was almost like what Keras’ eyes looked like when he was getting serious in a fight, with the silver flaring up in his eyes.

He’d mentioned something about worrying about his eyes changing to gold at some point, too.

Resh, need more context on that.

“You’re not kidding about the banishment effect. This is one of the strongest ones I’ve ever felt. I couldn’t do it, even with my bow.” Mary ran a hand along the hilt, pausing at the jewel on the pommel. “The spirit is housed here?”

I nodded. “I think so.”

“I don’t think I can safely wake him up now. If he woke up at all, the banishment would tear him apart. But…I can work on the seal.”

“Seal?” I asked.

“Another form of magic, but one that’s often paired with banishment. Banishment to send someone away and weaken them, seals to keep them stuck there. I’m guessing whoever did this had a seal built into the same spell effect. That’s advanced, but not all that unusual.”

I nodded. I’d heard a bit about sealing magic before, but I wasn’t sure if she was using the term differently than how I’d heard it used, especially given that she was clearly dealing with foreign magic. It sounded pretty straightforward, similar to what I’d heard about the protective magic that kept the Maker of Monsters from escaping, or the seals that Keras used to keep his own power restrained. “Can you tell what kind of condition the spirit is in?”

“Already healing, I think.” She nodded. “Whatever you’ve been doing is probably working, but without undoing the seal, he’d still be stuck in an inactive state.”

“…Good that I came to you, then.”

She smiled. “Good for us both, I think. Can I hold onto this for a while?”

I hesitated. “Why?”

“Given the scale of the seal, I think I’m going to need to do multiple rituals to try to break it. That takes time and materials I don’t have here. I’ll ask around, make some deals, but it could take quite a while to get everything together.”

I blinked, considering. “…Can I watch when you do the unsealing ritual?”

Mary looked at Vermillion. The latter shook her head.

“Sorry,” Mary said. “Probably not. Best place for doing this would be our bedroom, and that’s, uh, a bit…”

“Yeah, no, I get it.” I took a breath. “How long would it take to work on it?”

“I could probably get it back to you in a month or so? I honestly don’t know. I’ll do a test ritual tonight with minimal materials, try to see if I can gauge it better, but…”

I winced and turned to Len. “How soon is my next match?”

“Not sure, but it’ll probably be at least a couple weeks. Less than a month, unless something changes.”

“That’s…actually longer than I expected.”

“Things are complicated. For most people, the wait is going to be even longer. In your case, it’s being expedited both by your allies and your enemies.”

Vermillion gave me a sympathetic look. “Oh, that’s familiar.”

I chuckled. “Yeah. Okay. I can go without the sword for one match. I’d rather have it for the finale. This one shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Famous last words.” Vermillion smirked.

“Rosie!” Mary glared at her.

“Hey, just sayin’. It’s like telling the universe, ‘nothing could possibly go wrong’. You’re askin’ for it, now.” She laughed. “Not that I’d mind the challenge, in your place. Luck, Corin.”

“Thanks.” I stood and stretched. “As long as I get a reasonable opponent, I won’t need it.”

I probably shouldn’t have challenged the universe a second time.

***

It was another three weeks before my second round of the Emerald Trials. Part of that was continued updates to the trial chamber…and part of it was politics.

More of the delegates were beginning to arrive from each nation, but much more slowly than originally projected, even accounting for longer travel time in the places that didn’t have train-based travel.

The war was a part of that, of course. Battles were exploding across the continent, and I’d heard a few stories about the first major clashes, but more significant to the delays were blockades.

Each nation was staking out territories within the Unclaimed Lands and had ways of preventing easy passage through those territories. Many of those were physical barriers — raising colossal walls of stone, metal, or glass — but others were more insidious, like areas with zones of void, or places that redirected teleportation attempts directly into monster-filled wilds.

And speaking of monster-filled wilds? The Unclaimed Lands were still filled with them. At least two groups of delegates heading to the council had simply vanished, and though some nations were pointing fingers at each other, others believed that the Unclaimed Lands was simply extracting its own toll on those who had dared to try to cross it casually. The Tails of Orochi still had several bases of operations in the Unclaimed Lands, and though I hadn’t heard any direct stories of anyone encountering them, it was very likely they were making plays of their own during the movements of troops throughout the area.

All in all, that gave me more time to train, but it also made me feel deeply self-conscious about not being present directly on the battlefield.

Everything I’d ever heard about House Cadence in wartime related to our battlefield presence. We were supposed to be warriors, duelists…

And I was sitting comfortably in a tower, trading jabs with Sera and deflecting jokes about Satsuki missing me back at home. It didn’t feel right.

Still, I tried to tell myself that rationally, I had a different role. Not because I was a non-combatant as an Enchanter, but because I was on the political stage now, and I had a role to play in the negotiations that would follow when the council convened—

If it ever did.

With three days of extra training, I’d managed to push my Arbiter attunement’s mana up to 524. That was close to my mana total from when I fought my father — and that was without counting my Enchanter attunement and transcendence mark.

When I finally had access to those again, I’d be nearing Citrine-level in mana…but I wasn’t there just yet. Still, I was feeling pretty confident when I stepped into the dueling chamber.

Even if I wasn’t close to Emerald, I had nearly Emerald mana available to me. I had twelve batteries worth 360 mana each, for a total of 4,320. And, while I wasn’t planning to draw from their mana pools if I didn’t need to, both my scale armor and Bright Reflection were Citrine-level items, each holding a similar amount to my battery total. Between all that, I effectively had an Emerald-level mana pool to work with…just not an Emerald’s full ability set.

I still couldn’t measure up to an Emerald’s physical benefits from having secondary mana, but my speed from two compounding transference attunements actually made me faster than many of the people I was sparring with, since not every attunement provided much of a significant speed benefit at each level.

I was comfortable sparring against nearly any attunement. Sera had set up practice matches for me to spar against virtually everyone in the Valian delegation, and I’d handled them okay. Obviously someone in a serious match would be going harder, but I’d be fighting harder, too.

As far as I was concerned going in, the biggest threats were multi-attuned physical fighters and other people who had tricks I couldn’t anticipate.

As it turned out, I’d left one very big danger off the list.

I stepped into a larger dueling chamber. This one was more elaborate, the floor and walls made of translucent crystals, with massive prisms jutting out in dozens of places around the room.

I stepped through my door, hearing it click closed behind me, and rested Bright Reflection against my shoulder.

My opponent stepped in through the opposite door, his own expression falling as he saw me.

“Oh. Corin. It’s you.”

Ruto “Lute” Muramasa gave me a sad smile, drawing his own sword from his waist. “I am… so very sorry about this.”

Chapter XVI – Round Two

I’d like to say that I had done a pretty good job of preparing for whatever opponent I ended up against in the second round of the Emerald Trials.

I’d rested, worked on sorting out my equipment, and even made a few tweaks to a pieces based on the last couple matches. I’d hoped to have a few surprises that would take any would-be Emerald off-guard.

That was the critical flaw, though.

Lute wasn’t an Emerald-level attuned. He wasn’t attuned at all.

I was reasonably confident he wasn’t even human.

And that meant the bulk of my most recent preparations — modifications to my Arbiter attunement, building new functions that could rapidly make changes to other attunements in subtler ways than transforming them entirely like I had with my father — would be entirely useless.

That didn’t mean I was unprepared. Only that I was underprepared.

I tried to reassure myself that I’d fought against Lute before and fought alongside him. That I had a pretty good idea of what he could do and how to counter it.

On that last point, well…everyone makes mistakes on occasion.

I understood that very clearly the moment he cut through space in front of him, leaving a ragged gouge in the middle of the air, and then stepped through it to appear right in front of me, close enough to touch with a hand.

I stepped back immediately, dropping Bright Reflection into a low guard. He didn’t raise his own sword in spite of our proximity.

“I don’t suppose I could convince you to walk away?” Lute asked.

“Not without knowing what you’re up to. Where did you go after our last exam? Why are you here?”

“Family plans. You know how it is. Or, uh, maybe you don’t? It’s possible you’re actually the worst possible example for that, actually.” Lute frowned, reaching up to brush iron-colored hair out of his eyes. He’d let it grow out a bit.

Interesting that his hair could grow. I wasn’t sure if that would happen, if my suspicions about his nature were correct.

“You’ve talked a bit about your father. He has an angle here?” I asked.

“Let’s maybe not say that with a lot of people watching, but yes, I’m here to represent him and the family as a whole. And, uh, Dalenos, I guess.”

My expression darkened. “I was under the impression you weren’t from Dalenos.”

“Not exactly, but proximally, they’re the closest major nation, and Father—” He cut himself off. “I really shouldn’t talk about this, especially while we’re observed. I think we have to fight. I’m sorry. I knew you’d be here, but I didn’t think to see if you’d be doing, this, since you’re…”

“Generally not interested in politics?” I offered.

“Sure, right, that’s very definitely what I was going to say.” He wrinkled his nose. “Should we get started?”

“Can’t bore the audience.” I took another step back.

Haste.

Transference mana flowed through me. I knew I wouldn’t have a chance of reacting to him without it. Even with it, I doubted I’d be able to completely keep up.

“Very well. I accept your challenge.” Lute lifted his sword into a salute.

Then, before I had a chance to do anything else, he swept it down and three phantasmal copies of him attacked me at the same time.

What the—

I dodged back and to the side, raising Bright Reflection and parrying the one image that still would have struck me. Metal met what felt like metal — the image was translucent, but seemingly solid.

Not just an illusion, I realized, but the images faded a moment after they’d struck.

The real Lute advanced slowly, but he simply jabbed down toward the ground.

Copies of his sword burst through the floor beneath me.

Jump.

I hurled myself into the air. Lute swung lazily upward to follow my movement. There was no classic sword-hurled projectile, no cleaving crescent of force or light. He just…cut, and in spite of being nowhere near me, I felt the swing impact my barriers and chip pieces away.

It wasn’t deep enough to get through both shields in a single attack, but the ability was nonetheless worrisome. If he could attack without any concept of distance being relevant, my typical style of evasion was pointless. On the other hand, if I avoided dodging entirely, I’d get worn down or incapacitated by his other forms of attack.

So, in this rarest of circumstances, I took a cue from my mentor.

Jump.

I blasted myself downward, right in front of Lute. His sword flashed toward me with no concern for my proximity.

I stepped in closer, inside his swinging radius, and slipped my free arm under his, binding his arm against my chest. His eyes widened fractionally just before I slammed a knee into his gut, sending a burst of transference mana in on impact.

The attack hit cleanly—

And did nothing at all, dispersing across his body like water flowing across a stone.

He glanced down at where my arm was holding his, then raised his other hand slowly and put it on my chest.

I didn’t let him do whatever was going to happen next.

I blasted myself backward with another use of my Ring of Jumping, which was good, because a crimson corkscrew of mana emitted from his palm a moment later.

It was too fast to dodge properly, but not too fast for what I’d planned.

“Bright Reflection.” I slammed Bright Reflection’s flat against the corkscrew of burning mana, sending it flashing back in his direction.

Lute’s expression didn’t change. He just moved his head slightly to the side, letting it pass him by.

Then he brought his sword upward in a slice and, in spite of being fifteen feet away, another chip of my shields fell.

My jaw tightened. I charged again.

This time, he was ready.

He caught my downward swing with one of his own. That was when I played my next card.

Accelerated Computation.

I flicked the air between us with my off hand, sending a mana thread out toward the hilt of his sword. If I could get a grip on his weapon’s power, then—

His eyes narrowed. He’d seen my mana thread.

His wrist moved.

Thread impact in 0.08 seconds—

Lute was so fast that he could have torn the thread to pieces with that fraction of an instant. Instead, when he shifted his wrist, it wasn’t to sever the thread as I might have expected.

No, with Accelerated Computation active, I was processing quickly enough to see that he’d moved to allow the thread to touch his hand, rather than his sword.

On a hunch, I stuck with my plan.

I sent a mental command to the sword, hoping I understood what I was up against.

Sleep.

<I’m not tired.>

The voice that I heard was Lute’s own, but sounding directly in my mind.

Lute stepped in for a jab, but it seemed oddly telegraphed. The type of thing I might not have noticed if I was much slower, or without my mental acceleration in place.

Swing impact in—

I stepped backward, avoiding Lute’s next strike by a razor-thin margin. I stepped around to the left warily, making a bit of distance between us.

A smile spread slowly across Lute’s face as he reached up with his free hand and adjusted his glasses. “That,” he said, “was a daring and clever move.”

“Didn’t work the way I’d hoped,” I offered warily.

But, I pushed my thought at him, perhaps it’s what you were looking for?

<Not so loud. You need more practice at this.>

He danced in for another quick couple jabs, which I avoided easily, then swept his sword at my legs. I kicked the flat of his blade, knocking it wide, and flicked my wrist upward, cleaving toward his cheeks. Once again, he dodged with minimal effort, simply turning his head to the side.

Then he backed away, as if assessing his next move, but really…

<To answer your question more clearly, no, I didn’t plan on this. I’m impressed you had the insight to realize that I could communicate telepathically. You’re aware of my nature, then?>

You’re a sacred sword, like Dawnbringer, but with a humanoid body.

<Hm. That’s almost right. Same family, but different make and model. Whether or not I count as a sacred sword would depend on who you ask. Personally, I tend to refer to myself by another series designation, but—>

I swung in the air, sending a shockwave of essence in his direction, which he deflected with his own sword and countered with a mid-air thrust. Once again, my barriers sparked.

I growled in annoyance, then began to pour mana into my barriers, slowly recharging them while we talked. If nothing else, the conversation would buy me time to try to learn how to counter him, but while I had this opportunity…

Is your father working with Katashi directly?

He gave me a quizzical look.

<That’s a rather vague question, all things considered. In the general course of events, I’m certain that there are times in which—>

I tapped my sword against a symbol on my belt. The weapon vanished, giving Lute a very brief window where I was unarmed. He took the opening to jab again, but I’d expected it this time, and I produced a brief burst of transference mana exactly in the trajectory that his attack was coming from.

He was nowhere close enough to touch me, but he still recoiled briefly from the contact with my mana, as if he’d hit something solid. A look of genuine surprise flashed across his face, and as much as I was curious about the conversation, I couldn’t waste the window to strike.

Jump.

I reached into my bag as I flew forward, grabbing a void emitter. I activated it as soon as it came free of the bag, then hurled it straight at him.

He dodged the projectile itself easily, but the void emitter blanketed an area with its power. I could sense a shield around him shimmer and crack as the emitter passed over him.

<Careful.> He flicked a finger at the void emitter, a burst of crimson energy sending it skidding across the room. I wasn’t sure what he’d used, but it was strong enough that the mana didn’t visibly diminish as it passed through the void.

He hadn’t broken the emitter, but it was lying on the ground out of range of both of us now, creating a small hemisphere of void mana that we’d both want to stay out of.

I’m very careful. Some might say excessively careful.

Lute rolled his eyes.

<I mean about your mana thread. Void could destroy it, and I’m enjoying our chat.> He jabbed at me again, but I was already moving, and his strike didn’t connect. Apparently, even if he could completely ignore distance with whatever attack type he was using, the trajectory didn’t change.

As long as I treated his sword as if it had an infinite length, I could dodge. Easy, really.

Just to be clear, that’s sarcasm, and I was absolutely not going to be able to keep doing that. I was already pushing my mind far more than I wanted to by using Accelerated Computation at all, and I couldn’t afford the mana cost to keep both that spell and Haste active indefinitely.

But I’d learned something else — he was avoiding the void mana, and not just because of the mana thread.

I hit another symbol on my belt, Mr. Stabbington appearing in my hand. Jerome Schmidt’s sword flared with void, the black aura around the blade letting out a soft hiss.

I’ll have to avoid the thread itself, then.

A quick jab of my own sent a puncturing burst of void at Lute. He didn’t dodge just slightly this time — he gave the attack a wide berth. Either he was feigning, or I’d found an actual weakness.

Now, back to the question, I told him, raising my sword. Is your father working with Katashi right now? Is he helping with the invasion of Valia?

<Ah, no. It’s nothing so simple as that. Matters at their level rarely are.>

He was looking more cautious, now. But he had a good poker face — there was no obvious tell that he’d just conjured another copy of himself behind me.

I didn’t hear it or see it, I just felt a spike of transcendence mana. That was enough to get me to spin around, parrying the copy’s sword—

And while the phantasmal blade was solid enough, it didn’t react well to void. The image of Lute’s blade bent and twisted as the void aura ripped across it, shock crossing the copy’s features. He backpedaled hastily, then vanished as the real Lute thrust toward the ceiling.

That’s a weird—

A rain of phantasmal swords descended from straight above me, dozens at a time. I wasn’t quick enough to block them all, so I deflected the first few while I retreated, then blasted myself to the side to avoid the rest, nearly running straight into my own void emitter’s zone. Which was, of course, probably his plan.

Another phantasmal copy of Lute manifested in front of me, trying to drive me back further, but I didn’t dodge like he seemed to expect — I stepped toward his swing, putting myself nearly face-to-face with the copy. He scrambled backward as I brought my sword upward, trying to clip him with Mr. Stabbington, but he vanished before I could land the strike.

The real Lute stood still, frowning at me.

<I may not have assessed this situation correctly at the outset.>

Not feeling quite as confident in your victory?

I tried to look confident myself. I probably wasn’t selling it.

<It isn’t that. Rather, there is a growing cost in prolonging this exchange, as you have proven capable of successfully forcing me to dodge.>

I tensed, bracing for him to immediately escalate as a result, trying to end things rapidly, but his next swing was slower than before, easy for me to dodge now that I knew the trick to how his ranged strikes worked.

Or, some of the trick, anyway. That sword rain had been different, as were the swords from the floor, but this proved as straightforward as it seemed.

He let me dodge, then advanced, continuing to talk.

<I believe we are at a point where I would be open to negotiation.>

I stepped forward alongside him, eyeing him warily.

We exchanged ordinary swings at an ordinary distance. If he was afraid of my sword’s void aura, he wasn’t showing it now — and his own sword showed no sign of damage when our blades made contact. I couldn’t tell if that was a sign of false confidence on his part or if something had changed.

Whatever the reasoning, the simple exchange of sword swings was easier to keep track of than the complexities of magical combat, and that made conversation simpler to pursue.

I knew this was a chance I couldn’t pass up.

If Keras had been right with his own assumptions, Lute’s father was the Visage of the Seventh Spire.

What would it take to get your father to switch sides? Defend Valia?

<That would represent more than just switching sides. In any case, I do not have the sway with him to change his mind on something so significant, even if I wished to.>

Who or what could?

<You are pursuing the wrong angle of attack.>

As if to emphasize my point, he deflected my latest swing upward, gently flicking his own sword across my barrier, drawing a thin crack.

Maybe.

I surged in with a burst of transference, waving a hand in front of his face and conjuring an intense flash of light.

He reeled back from the blinding radiance, just as I’d hoped.

But I adapt.

I slammed my pommel into his chest. He staggered back, coughing, and clutching his chest as if I’d hit…well, a normal person. I didn’t think he was faking, either.

I barely ducked the swipe from the phantasmal copy that appeared behind me in the next moment. When I thrust backward, I felt my sword sink deep into something solid. I yanked it out, hearing the copy fall as I stepped forward, and—

Lute shot backward in a blur of speed. My mana thread held, but just barely — I could feel it fraying from the force of the pull.

<I take your point.>

His eyes narrowed as he assessed me at a distance. A quick jab followed to emphasize the remark, but I dodged it easily now.

<And I admit that it’s compelling,> Lute added. <But it doesn’t matter. I can’t change his mind. Some of my siblings with greater sway have already tried.>

That was a bit of a surprise, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I stepped forward, more confident now. Not that I could dominate the fight — even now, I didn’t think he was using his full strength, nor did I think he’d shown the totality of his abilities.

But I’d realized that there was a different kind of victory I could achieve, one that was far more important.

If you can’t convince him alone, let us try together. Our team, you included.

<That would not be permitted. You do not even have the qualifications to—>

As the Wielder of Selys-Lyann, forged from the pieces of the Sacred Sword Flowbreaker, I request a meeting with the Visage of the Seventh Spire.

<You endanger yourself and others by pursuing that course. You are not ready to confront him as a wielder. Nor are you eligible. Not you alone.>

I wouldn’t be alone. I could bring—

<Only when the six are united will the gates open.>

I paused. He was paraphrasing scripture about the Six Sacred Swords, a common line with several interpretations.

My mind raced with the implications, but the facts were simple — I didn’t have anything approximating all six Sacred Swords. That raised a number of questions about how Keras had gotten into the Seventh Spire, but…

Maybe I didn’t need to follow in Keras’ path. Maybe I just needed to take my own.

I reached into my bag, feeling for something. He tensed, but I wasn’t drawing another weapon. Not in a traditional sense.

I fumbled until I found something else, and tried something new.

Instead of sending him just words, I showed Lute an image of what was in my hand. A Petitioner’s Coin.

As Arbiter of Katashi, I formally request a meeting with the Visage of the Seventh Spire.

Lute stared at me for a moment.

<There is no Arbiter’s Gate for the Seventh Spire.>

I wouldn’t give in that easily. I stepped forward, causing Lute to draw back, making another swing. This one was a more serious attack, causing three rippling shockwaves to cleave across the arena floor, but I stepped in between them. When the shockwaves turned to follow me, I swept my sword in a broad circle, dispersing them with void essence, then resuming my advance.

A deal, then. You could arrange a meeting, couldn’t you?

<In theory, perhaps, but the coin alone would not be a significant enough trade. He does not typically accept them.>

What would he accept in trade?

<Let’s say, hypothetically, that I was having a hard time with this match. That there was a chance I wouldn’t win, or would disclose too much by continuing.>

We began to circle each other again, this time at a distance.

<My father may not be intending to play a major role in this conflict, but he does see the long-term value in a seat on this council. Were you to assist me in gaining such a seat, even to your own detriment…>

I jabbed at him, sending a burst of void in his direction, which he hastily dodged.

Can’t stand this dancing around it. If I lose on purpose, you’ll get me a meeting with the Seventh Visage?

<No. But for that, and the Petitioner’s Coin, I will help you get into one of the gates and speak to the voice on your behalf. It will not guarantee you a meeting, but it will give you a chance.>

Deal.

I lunged at him in a burst of sudden speed, swinging at his chest.

When he parried, I released my grip just a little, allowing my sword to fly free from my fingers.

His sword flashed toward my chest.

“I surrender.”

Lute blinked.

I raised both hands, then released Haste and Accelerated Computation.

A broad, knowing smile spread across his face. “I accept.”

It was clear from the tone of his voice and the expression on his face that he was replying to more than one thing at a time.

When can you open the door?

<Not until after the council concludes. Speak to me in a few days. I’ll begin arrangements when I can.>

I nodded to him.

Lute slipped his sword into his sheath, then turned to leave.

I went to retrieve my own sword, breathing heavily.

Losing the match didn’t bother me. I’d made a deal, after all, for something that might have greater value than a single vote if I could make use of it.

But things were never as simple as that, were they?

I’d seen something in Lute’s smile, just before the end. More than fondness or amusement.

Something that said that I’d crossed a dangerous line.

If I hadn’t surrendered, given how much I’d pressured him in that match, I’m not sure if I would have ever walked out of that room.

And now that I had surrendered…I wondered if the deal I’d made might prove even more dangerous than the man I’d just surrendered to.

***

Len didn’t meet me right after the match. Her first obligation, after all, was to the winner.

I was surprised to see someone else waiting for me, however.

Warren Constantine himself, the master of the tower, gave me a nod as I stepped out of the room.

“Master Constantine.” I bowed my head slightly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“None of that.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Walk with me.”

I nodded absently, a part of my mind still on the steel gaze from Lute’s eyes and the punishment it had promised.

I didn’t get intimidated easily. Even being affected by killing intent didn’t shake me like that expression had.

I followed the master of the tower in silence as he led me up one flight of stairs, then another, to the roof of the tower.

It was daylight this time, not the deep of the night. But I remembered our last meeting in this spot, the talk of the stars, and the impact it had on me.

“Easier to breathe up here,” he said. “Ironic, given the altitude.”

I nodded, looking out at the sky, the clouds above. I took a deep breath. “Too many people in there.”

“Yes.” Constantine nodded in solidarity. “And twice as many plots and plans. No, that’s understating it.” The old man shook his head sadly. “And too many obligations. Too much history. Sometimes…it’s easiest to take a step away from it all.”

I could understand that, but...

“Why did you bring me here?”

“A plot of my own, of course.” He gave me a weak smile. “A simple one, however. One that says, ‘make sure young Cadence doesn’t punish himself too much for events beyond his control’.”

I allowed myself a faint smile. “That’s kind of you.”

“It is and it isn’t.” He shook his head. “In some ways, it’s more self-indulgent than anything else.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Don’t be deliberately ignorant, boy.”

There was a hint of something in his voice that reminded me of someone else — a fondness and faint mockery in his tone. One that made me almost certain of something I’d long suspected. “Professor Vellum in Valia. She’s your mother, isn’t she?”

“She’s almost as adept at changing the topic away from uncomfortable things as you are. But yes, Corin. The woman who calls herself ‘Vellum’ is my mother. And I can see the impacts of her training on you. It is a part of why I’ve made the choices I have.”

“…What’s that mean?”

He turned to me. “You are the first person with my unusual combination of attunements that has appeared in three decades. It’s natural that you came here when you did. I regret that I am not in any condition to take you on as true successor.” He shook his head. “Today is a good day. Len has been a great help. I’ve had fewer bad days of late, but still too many to offer you the training you need to do what is necessary.”

“Meaning?”

“To cut yourself free from the gifts of these false gods, as I did.” He folded his hands in front of him. “Even Mother refuses to do so. She lost so much that she holds onto what little she can, even knowing the risks. The costs. I had hoped that you would make better choices on your own, with the minimal guidance I gave you, but I can see that it was not enough.”

I felt my expression falter for a moment. “You’re…disappointed in me?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Disappointed that you have already advanced your attunement to unlock the functions I warned you against. But with those tools, you have brought yourself further faster than anyone could have possibly anticipated. And so, I am disappointed. But I am also terribly, incredibly proud.”

I trembled. My hand went up to wipe at my eyes for some reason.

“I don’t really know what to say to that.”

I didn’t want to say, “I don’t know how to deal with people being proud of me.”

Keras had been proud, I think. He’d acknowledged me as his student, given me great gifts.

He’d treated me like family, even if my path was nothing like his. That was, in some ways, the most important thing he could have done to support me.

But he had also made it very clear that I was not like him — that he didn’t want me to be. That I couldn’t, and shouldn’t, be a successor to his own style of fighting or solving problems.

Warren Constantine was like me. An Arbiter. An Enchanter. One who had broken attunements apart and learned how they work. He’d paved the way for the path I’d chosen.

And was disappointed that I’d continued along it, but…proud?

“…I haven’t done so much,” I settled on, finally. “I lost to Lute.”

Constantine laughed outright. “Are you joking? By walking away from that match intact, after that display of being able to touch one of Muramasa’s kids in a fight…you have to have smacked the smirks right off the face of the Dalenos Six. Their plans were ruined. They hoped to break you there. You made it look like what they’d been scrambling to accomplish for days was irrelevant.”

I blinked.

“The Dalenos Six? You mean the six most influential people in Dalenos? They’re here?”

“Well, four of them. And they aren’t necessarily all the most influential, since the archdukes and such are separate, but yes, they’re all very significant, especially from a religious standpoint. As the Arbiter of Katashi, you represent a significant threat to that. One they hoped to neutralize by crippling you too badly — either physically or politically — to participate in the events to come.”

“…Would Lute have done that to me?”

Constantine shrugged. “I’ve seen some of Muramasa’s kids play before. They’re not all the same, but they have a degree of underlying loyalty to their mission that makes them vicious when they need to be. I don’t know what his orders were. It’s very possible he wouldn’t have hurt you badly, but simply chosen to systemically take your combat abilities apart. Countered all of your items, broken all of your weapons. That sort of thing.”

I shuddered at the thought of Lute snapping Bright Reflection the way that Mizuchi had. Without Keras, I wasn’t sure I could repair it properly, and...the impact on Patrick would be worse.

And if that was only the start of it?

I didn’t like the image of how that match could have ended.

…But more than that, I was worried that even with the fight over, the threat wasn’t.

I liked Lute. He’d been a valuable team member last year. But if he had orders to work against me, I had a hard time imagining a worse enemy to deal with.

As it turned out, I was just about to face one.

“We have company approaching,” Warren said suddenly. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t prepare you better for this, but at least in this way, you’ll have some privacy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Since you foiled their plans, one of the Dalenos Six is coming to talk.” He grimaced. “Stay strong, Corin. You can handle this. Come find me afterward, if you need to. I’ll make time to talk.”

“I, uh…okay?” I found myself thrown completely off-guard by the sudden change, and even more so when Warren Constantine walked away, heading back down the stairs and leaving me alone atop the tower to face what sounded like a terrible threat.

It was worse than I could have guessed.

The woman who passed through the rooftop doorway after he’d departed looked older than I’d remembered, even older than the memory crystal that I’d seen of a more recent version.

Her hair was up in a formal bun, which wasn’t unusual for someone with her military background. She’d always been more of a strategist than a duelist, at least in my experience, but I’d never known how powerful she was during our years together. She’d hidden much, or changed a great deal.

Her sword was one of those things, hidden or changed — a new weapon sat on her left hip, one with a slightly curved blade and small flower-shaped handguard in an Artinian style. Her outfit was the more jarring shift, however. Nothing could have prepared me for seeing her in the stark formal blues of Dalenos, nor the bright amulet of Katashi’s faith shining brightly on her neck.

She didn’t smile as she saw me. She just looked, evaluating me with a keen glance, much as I did to her.

“Hello, Corin.”

That was her only greeting. It was the most she’d said to me in the four years that we’d been apart.

“Hi, Mom.”

Chapter XVII – Reunion

My mother stood at the doorway at the top of the tower, conveniently blocking my way of retreating from the conversation.

Well, aside from jumping off the tower. I probably could have survived that with the Ring of Jumping and judicious use of transference mana, but even I wasn’t quite at the point where I felt like jumping off a tower to avoid an awkward conversation. Not yet, anyway.

When she opened her arms as if to ask for a hug, I briefly considered it.

“Not doing that,” I said. “If you wanted to be the kind of mother who shows affection like that, you shouldn’t have walked away.”

“It’s going to be like that, is it?” She lowered her arms. “Very well.” She looked me up and down. “You’ve grown.” A pause. “But not very much.”

“Already comparing me to Tristan, and unfavorably. Of course.” I let out a chuckle. “Thinking about it, I might not ever match his height, but unless something has changed significantly, I’m actually much stronger than he is now in terms of attunements and other mana sources.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Of course you are. Your brother never came home from his Judgment, Corin.”

“Oh. It’s going to be like that, is it?” I said, echoing her deliberately.

We stared at each other for a moment.

Surprisingly, she broke first. “I missed you. This is not the reunion I wanted or expected, but I missed my son.”

“Missed you too, Mom.” I took a breath. “That doesn’t excuse your absence from my life.”

“I did what I could. We did what we could. Each taking responsibility for a different child, to better protect you both.”

I tightened my jaw. “I never believed Tristan was impossible to save, but even knowing that, I wouldn’t have walked away from a twelve-year-old to dedicate my life to saving him.”

Mother offered me a sad smile. “I wasn’t talking about Tristan.”

I paused, closing my eyes, considering that.

“…I figured the ‘born a few days after me’ thing wasn’t true. Too convenient to be true. You could have acknowledged her. She was miserable, too, but in a different way.”

“High society never would have accepted her. Either of you. You would have been crushed before you could grow.”

“That is surprisingly similar to what actually happened, but rather than society, it was my father trying to break me.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’m sure your father—”

I pulled down my shirt and shifted the scale armor beneath it, showing a jagged scar just below the center of my throat. “Age fifteen.”

I rolled up my sleeve, showing the remaining scar tissue where my arm had been snapped at the elbow, the bone protruding through the arm. “This one was when I was only thirteen.”

I pulled up the left leg of my pants, showing more scarring where my leg had been snapped at the shin. “Another one from when I was fifteen.”

I turned around, lifting up both my shirt and the scale armor. “Not sure if you can see this one, with the way the armor is hanging—”

“I can see.”

“This was my fourteenth birthday gift. I didn’t want to practice dueling on my birthday, so he said I didn’t have to. I was relieved at first, until the first blow came. He said it was a lesson, like ‘you can choose not to fight, but you can’t choose for your opponent’ or something along those lines. I must have gotten a variation on that lesson a hundred times. Maybe he told himself it was because I wasn’t learning it properly. But no, I got the message early on.” I took a breath. “This wasn’t a lesson, Mom. Well, not the one he intended to teach, anyway. I learned the real lesson far too late. Father wasn’t teaching me. Father was hurting me.”

I pulled my shirt back down, feeling a mixture of pride and shame that I’d finally managed to show her, say something to her.

For years, I’d wanted the catharsis of being able to share that with the one person who should have listened more closely than anyone. The one person who should have cared, offered her unconditional remorse and love in response.

“We all suffered from the loss of Tristan in different ways.”

I fell silent.

“Your father loves you, in his own way. It can be difficult for him to express himself sometimes, but—”

“Traitor.” The word came out before I could even consciously think about it.

“…What?”

“To me, to your obligations as a mother. To Sera. And, more obviously,” I waved at her colors, “to Valia.”

“I had to make hard choices—”

I laughed. “You know, I’d be almost impressed if I found out you were the one who arranged for me to fight opponents that were terrible matchups for me. It’d be sickening to put me in that position after all these years of neglect, but at least it would display some competency, and that you were paying attention to my skill set.” I took a step toward her. “But no, I can’t give you that much credit. You don’t even know what I was doing, do you? Did you even watch?”

“I’ve only just arrived. I had other obligations.”

“Right.” I smiled sadly. “Sharing vulnerabilities in Valia’s defenses with the military of Dalenos, no doubt.”

“Valia has fallen to corruption. You may not be aware of this, but Valia’s government has been influenced by the Children of the Tyrant in Gold—”

“I killed that guy.”

Mother’s expression looked outright startled for the first time, rather than just disappointed. “What?”

“The vae’kes Saffron, the one pulling the strings on the Sons of Valia. I killed him. Not by myself, of course. Patrick’s blow might have been the one that caused the lethal damage, even if I hadn’t struck afterward. We lost a friend in that fight, but we killed Saffron. If you don’t even know that much, you’re just as ignorant about the Valian ‘corruption’ as you are about Father.”

She folded her arms. “I have a hard time believing you were directly involved in a fight on that scale.”

My hands clenched. I took a step forward.

She took a step back, startled.

I was of half a mind to challenge her to a duel. I was that angry.

But I wasn’t my father. I would not resolve conflicts with family by challenging them to duels.

Especially when I knew that it would be a false pretext, since my opponent would not have a fair chance.

My mother’s abilities were still far beyond my own, strictly speaking in terms of attunement power. But if she was truly so unaware of my abilities, I’d have her attunements turned off in the moments after the fight started.

Or before, maybe.

But no, I wouldn’t take that route.

Instead, I reached into my dimensional bag, felt around and focused, and hurled a crystal at her.

Mother caught the memory crystal.

“Watch it. The whole thing. I’ll wait.”

“There are things to attend—”

“More important things than watching a fight between your son and a Child of the Tyrant in Gold?”

“Time-sensitive matters. If this is what you say it is, I acknowledge that it is valuable, and I will share it with the—”

“Absolutely not. That is not for you to share with your new friends in the Dalenos military. That is for my mother, to give her context.”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid that now that it’s in my hands, that’s not your—”

“Crystal 487, shatter.”

The memory crystal fractured in her hand, leaving her with a palm full of shards.

Mother blinked.

“Minor security modification. If you want to see what happened, you’ll do it on my terms. No games. But at this point, I’m no longer inclined to share.”

She dropped the fragments of the crystal, brushing off her hand, and looked back at me with an expression showing something new and unfamiliar.

Respect, maybe?

It was a shame I’d seen so little of it from her over the years that I couldn’t be sure.

“You made preparations for this meeting,” she said simply.

“Sure. More than that, though, I prepared for snakes in general.” I cracked my knuckles. “I may not be much for high society, as you put it, but I didn’t walk in blind or unprepared. And if you continue to test me, if Dalenos continues to test me, you’ll quickly find that you’re not just dealing with an abandoned child.”

“Perhaps you are a son of House Cadence after all.”

I shrugged. “I am. But more than that, I’m the student of the people who actually cared. Press me, and you’ll see just how much I’ve learned.”

I walked toward the doorway behind my mother. She didn’t move.

But I was prepared.

“Return.”

I reappeared in Len’s lounge, where she still held my circlet’s teleportation anchor. She blinked as I appeared.

“Wasn’t expecting you to enter that way.”

“Today,” I said, “seems to be a day for the unexpected.”

I left it unsaid, but I felt the foreboding knowledge that the day was only beginning.

***

I found Sera in the dining room shortly thereafter. She was eating her own breakfast, since she’d taken the later watch shift. She blinked at me as I approached.

“You look like something’s wrong. What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Can you eat back at our room?”

“Uh, yeah? How urgent is this?” Sera asked. She must have seen my expression change. “Got it. Urgent. Let’s go.”

She picked up her plate. I grabbed her drink. I wasn’t quite sure if taking food out of the area was proper decorum, but I didn’t care much. We retreated to the bedroom to talk. Mara and Patrick were out, so it was just the two of us there.

“Mother is here.”

Sera nodded. “We knew that was likely to happen. But given your haste and expression…I take it things didn’t go well with the reunion?”

“She’s one of the Dalenos Six.”

Sera looked very, very intently at the potato on her fork.

“…Did you know?” I asked after a moment.

“No, no. The opposite. I’m processing how I didn’t know.” She put her fork down on her plate, appetite apparently lost. “That’s a pretty big failure of intelligence gathering on my part.”

“I get the impression it was recent. Possibly very recent.”

Sera frowned. “You understand the implications? Sorry, that sounded rude, I don’t mean to undermine your intelligence—”

“I get it, I have blind spots when it comes to some of this. But no, it’s clear enough. She was a member of our House of Lords and she’s a former Valian military officer. I don’t know what degree of knowledge she has about modern-day Valian defenses, but…”

“Based on the timeline of her confrontation with Keras, alongside the other council members, she was at least playing the role of a loyal member of the House of Lords up until right before our Judgments. That’s only about a year ago. That doesn’t necessarily imply full access to military documentation, but we’ve seen how much influence Elora has, and I don’t think she was even in the military. Paid her way out of her service time.”

I had complex thoughts on that possibility, but that was a different issue. “Mother is probably leaking information on how our defenses work to Katashi. That could be a huge advantage for Dalenos.”

“Reductive — they’re going to have numerous intelligence sources. Spies, Seers, all that. Other people who are bribed to defect. We have the same. But she might be the single most important agent they flipped.” Sera grimaced. “Did she give any indication of why she’d made her move?”

“Protecting her children seemed to be the implication. I think it’s probable that she made some sort of deal to protect Tristan. She must have learned what we suspected — that Katashi could access Tristan at any time, and that he’s just been leaving the door to the sanctum shut for the convenience of his own maneuvering.”

“A likely scenario, but not the only possible meaning. She could have made a deal to protect you, too. We know that he could potentially detonate your attunement mark.”

I shuddered.

Less likely, now that I’ve taken steps to modify it, but anything I can do to change it, he’s likely to have a means to overcome. It just might require a few extra seconds of effort.

I need more redundant defenses for that sort of thing. Maybe a home-made attunement mark that never allows for outside access, designed with functions to shield the others.

Hm. Any function connecting to the other attunements could be used to move backward to take control over the new one, potentially…unless I could set up a one-way connection? Is that a thing?

“Focus,” Sera said.

“Sorry. Lots to think about. Detonating attunements are bad.”

She nodded as if I’d shared some sort of sage-like wisdom. “Well, on that we’re in agreement.”

“Let me make some changes to yours. I should do it for the others, too. Security.”

“Didn’t you already do that on the train?”

I nodded. “I made some minor changes there, but not as exhaustive of ones as I made to my own. Given the situation, I think I need to add a few extra layers. Probably more for my own, too, honestly.”

“Sure.”

I was surprised at how quickly she agreed. I wouldn’t have agreed that quickly.

It’s possible that not everyone thought quite as much about the level of sabotage other people were capable of when they had attunement access that I do.

Or it’s possible that for Sera, trust meant something different to what it meant to me. Something that skipped that hesitation and went straight to acceptance.

I didn’t understand that. Was I broken, somehow?

Wasn’t the time to think on that, though, so I moved forward. “I’ll make the changes soon. No guarantees that they’ll work if we’re up against a visage and his direct servants.”

“I know that. Now, what are we going to do about your mother?”

“About that.” I hesitated. “She might have also implied that she’s not just my mother.”

“Ah. That.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

That…hadn’t been the response I expected. “But if we’re…”

“A cursed pair? Yeah. That’s probable. It’s not like you’ve never considered it before, right?”

I nodded. “Sure. It would explain a great deal about how our parents treated us.”

“And how Tristan treated me, if he thought I was a curse for our family.”

“You think he knew?”

Sera shrugged. “He was old enough to see if my mother — and I consider Anette Shard to be my mother, regardless of who gave birth to me — was pregnant at the time that your mother gave birth. Even if they knew in advance that we were to be born as a cursed pair, it’s likely they wouldn’t have learned about that until somewhere mid-way into the pregnancy process, when diagnostic spells could have detected two viable children. Then, time to take action, figure out plans. Make Mother wear some padding, set up fake doctor schedules, plan out a fake childbirth for her.”

“Tristan was five, Sera. You’d be giving him a lot of credit to figure that out.”

“I’m not saying he knew before we were born. I’m saying he had far better tools than we did to figure it out afterward — say, by the time he was ten or twelve. That’s old enough to pick up subtext about Mother and Father treating me strangely. Looks of regret, resentment. Perhaps things about how my mother treated me, or the strangeness of my father never being mentioned. At a minimum, figuring out the fact that our father was involved in my birth is highly likely. We share enough physical features to resemble him and each other. And,” she hesitated, “Lady Lyran, of course. I don’t know if that would be as obvious of a leap, but…”

“And you think he hurt you because of that?”

“Kids rarely need much of an excuse to be cruel, especially when their parents are cruel to them. It’s a lesson that can be passed on very young. I don’t think his knowledge of this forgives him in any way. It’s just adds more context that we should be aware of.”

I nodded. “Agreed. Do you think that this…if it’s true, does it represent another level of vulnerability for us?”

“Yes, absolutely. It makes it easier to destabilize any of our political positions if it comes out. That includes your mother. It’s possible she’s being blackmailed. Again, not offering forgiveness if that’s the case, just context.”

“Sure. Do you think we could get ahead of that somehow? Make it irrelevant?”

“Not unless you have the means to radically change Kaldwyn’s religious doctrine.”

I raised a hand to my chin, scratching at it. I hadn’t shaved. I needed to do that.

“Corin, no. Don’t even consider it.”

“I am the Arbiter of Katashi. I think I’m owed a proclamation or two, right?”

“You already made one earlier, with the statement before your first round of the Emerald Trials. Do you really want to push it with the Dalenos Six present?”

“Especially with them present.” I focused. “Katashi is coming at us at weak points. Family connections, the threat of detonating attunements. Maybe it’s about time we turn that around.”

“Using any influence you have to make a statement about cursed pairs isn’t going to be worth the effort or the cost.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “So, let’s not do that. We have other ways of exploiting my position, though, don’t we?”

“They’re going to undermine your authority as Arbiter if you try to use it again.” Sera frowned. “They have to have planned for that scenario.”

“Exactly. Do what you do with Crowns and Valor, Sera. Help me plan a couple steps ahead.”

“I try, Corin. It’s not the same with actual people. Especially with…I’m not at my best, Corin. I’m trying, but…” She put a hand to her chest.

“I’m working on that, too. We’ll get you healed. But for now, I need your help with this. Let’s talk out some scenarios. Find the best ones, then aim however we can.”

“I can do that,” she said, taking a steadying breath. “For now? Let’s start with those attunement changes of yours.”

“Sure. Easy. And if you wouldn’t mind, I think this is about the right time for me to look at your attunement more closely.”

“For what?”

“Everything my attunements don’t have.” I pulled up a chair next to her. “I have a feeling we’re going to need every tool we can get soon.”

***

I spent some more time with Sera, working on analyzing the details of her attunement. Then, with her permission, I took a bigger step.

I started copying. Not just to memory crystals, but into a new level for my Enchanter attunement.

I’ve gone over this a bit previously, but for clarity, let me reiterate and elaborate a bit.

At any given time, an attunement is running a variety of functions. Some of these are what I’d call “background” functions that are always present at every level, like continuously checking your safe mana capacity. Others are background, but with variations — things like a simple function that generates a symbol based on your current attunement level. Another function that makes it glow at certain times, like right when you gain an attunement level.

Others are level-specific features, but present in some fashion in all modern attunements. Things like generating a shroud once you hit Carnelian. These aren’t actually identical across attunements, though, since they utilize different mana compositions for the shroud itself, and some are activated at earlier levels, like for Guardians.

Then you’ve got critical functions like “draw in grey mana from the environment” and “convert that grey mana into these types of usable base and composite mana types”. All attunements have some of these, but with different mana compositions used, and different levels for them to unlock.

Finally, you have things that are attunement-specific. These are usually called “unique” abilities, but that’s a misnomer, since they can be emulated by other attunements. Something like “attunement-specific functions” or “defining features” probably works better.

Anyway, those last ones are the main reasons you want a specific attunement over another similar one that hypothetically has the same mana types. Things like the Enchanter attunement’s ability to, well, enchant things.

Summoners have a whole lot of them. Sera had several beyond what a normal Summoner does.

I’d studied many of them already, all the way back to when I was a guest at Farren Labs, but without a direct copy, my ability to study them in detail was limited to my time literally sitting next to Sera with a hand on her back. It was awkward and limiting. I’d studied a bit more with memory crystals, but that method only could show me lines on sub-glyphs I’d looked at before, and it reviewed them at the same rate that I’d seen them. I couldn’t pause the memories to stop at a specific segment. There were ways to do that, but my crystals weren’t that significant.

Having a copy of Sera’s functions in my own attunement was a risk on a few levels.

First, because of the possibility of heresy accusations for copying an attunement wholesale. I felt like I was mostly past the point of worrying about that. If someone wanted to level heresy charges at me, there were much more obvious things to go after.

Second, active defenses that could be triggered. This was more of a concern, but I checked repeatedly, consulted books, and consulted others — I was pretty sure that there wasn’t anything that was going to detonate either of us just from trying to copy the attunement’s functions over. I even briefly checked with Warren Constantine himself. He advised me to stop toying with Citrine-plus features again, but he didn’t think it would hurt me outright.

Third, capacity issues.

This last one is a bit more complicated. There were multiple types of capacity concerns in play.

First, there is a theoretical upper limit to how many sub-glyphs you can have in an attunement, regardless of whether they’re active or not. I didn’t know what this limit was, but the answer is “high”. After checking my books and with Warren, I concluded that I could probably fit dozens of levels worth of features before I risked hitting this limit. So, a technical limit, but a largely irrelevant one — at least for the immediate future.

Second, there was a hard limit on the amount of mana an attunement had available to complete functions. Much like any enchantment, an attunement had a capacity based on the amount of mana that was used at the time it was created. This was an extremely high value, one I was nowhere near hitting as a Sunstone-level Enchanter (even if I turned on or modified features), but it wasn’t much above the maximum for an Emerald with a specialization.

This, I suspected, was an area where Meltlake might have hit a practical limit — and why I couldn’t just, say, throw extra features at her for a hypothetical Sapphire-level, even if I built one into her attunement. The attunement didn’t have a high enough capacity to do much more than it already was.

This was a problem, but it was a problem for Future Corin. I didn’t need to work on it right away. I already had some ideas, though. Capacity runes could be upgraded, in theory, and I didn’t think it would be impossible to do that even with something as complex as an attunement. With a powerful enough mana source, I could theoretically expand the container size of an attunement to allow it to enable more functions.

And I suspected Sera’s attunement might have already solved that problem, but I wasn’t sure. I’d look more once I’d copied it.

Finally, there was a much more immediate problem, and one I was already well-aware of.

Active features in an attunement continuously drained mana. Ordinarily, they were tuned to make sure the drain didn’t outpace mana regeneration, which wasn’t much of an issue in most cases — we’re talking about fractions of a mana point for stuff like “generate an Enchanter symbol on Corin’s forehead”.

If I wanted to be able to activate more features, I’d have to juggle them with existing ones. And some features cost a lot more than others.

The defining features of each attunement were comparatively expensive. I couldn’t just turn off “show Enchanter rune” and flip on “ability to summon monsters,” especially since “ability to summon monsters” had several pre-requisites, like generating several additional mana types.

But I could, in theory, make a level that let me turn on all the features of the Summoner attunement and the bare-minimum number of Enchanter features necessary to flip a switch back to Enchanter functions.

There was, of course, the risk that I’d make a mistake and lose the ability to ever turn my attunement back. So, I’d have to build failsafes — timers to swap back to my standard level, voice commands, that sort of thing.

Now, this might sound absurdly powerful — being able to swap between stored attunements at will by swapping to new “levels” designed for different attunements. Unfortunately, the concept wasn’t anywhere near as powerful as it sounded, at least not right away.

First, my body wasn’t acclimated to the right types of mana for a Summoner attunement. It wasn’t too far off — I was plenty acclimated to transference, and getting there with spirit — but I had basically no acclimation to air or travel mana, both of which were used in summoning functions.

If I flipped Summoner functions on, my safe mana capacity wouldn’t calculate properly — I’d completely throw off the math with my weird acclimation levels designed for the wrong attunement — and I couldn’t rely on a number to tell me what was safe. And if I tried to use Summoner functions at a similar level to my Enchanter level — that is, like I was a Sunstone-level Summoner — I’d probably end up causing myself serious harm by overusing air and travel mana through the basic functions.

At a minimum, if I actually wanted to use Summoner powers to any reasonable degree, I’d have to start acclimating to air and travel mana — which would, of course, slow down my acclimation to everything else.

This same problem would be true for any attunement I tried to copy, with a greater problem the more I needed to acclimate. Something like a Soulblade would be comparatively easy for me, since I already had acclimation to the right mana types. Something like a Guardian would be much harder, since it required Enhancement acclimation, which was the direct opposite of what I’d been doing.

Beyond that, for something like a Summoner, if I made a contract while temporarily enabling those functions, then disabled the Summoner functions…

I didn’t actually know what would happen. Even Warren didn’t, actually.

I was pretty sure it would be bad. I had several fail cases planned, but the conclusion was “don’t do this”.

So, really, if I wanted to be an Enchanter with Summoner powers, I needed to get to the point where I could survive keeping some of those Summoner powers active in my Enchanter attunement continuously — even if it was the bare minimum stuff, like the “create contract” function and the prerequisites for it.

For the moment, I focused on just studying how those features functioned, mapping out prerequisites, and delving just a little bit into the hidden stuff Sera had that went beyond what a conventional Summoner could do. I’d get into that more once I had a better understanding of normal Summoners.

After a few hours of studying Sera’s attunement in detail and tinkering, I had a prototype for what I called a “Jade” level, which worked similarly to my Spessartine level, but generated air and travel mana instead of light. This didn’t have any other Summoner functions, but I could flip it on to just start trying those other mana types to acclimate to them.

I didn’t have a chance to test it before Patrick came around to give us news. “Mary has your sword, and she wants to borrow some stuff for her next round.”

I nodded, finishing up my work, and went to meet with Mary.

She held my sword in her hands, but didn’t offer it to me right away. “I have broken the seal. But…Corin, it was harder than I expected. And you should know that whatever spirit is in there…it’s hungry. Very hungry. You…might want to be careful.”

“I know. I’ll be careful.” I lifted a hand, but she made no move to return Selys-Lyann.

Instead, she shook her head. “You might have known before, but…sometimes when spirits are hurt badly enough, they get…I’m going to call it ‘feral’. You had a contract with this sword’s spirit?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, the good news is, that’s probably going to work just fine, and it probably won’t eat you. But…be careful with them. Before the spirit awakens, they’ll be acting on instinct, and those instincts can be dangerous.”

I remembered the first time the frozen armor nearly killed me and gave her a somber nod. “I’ll take some precautions. Thanks.”

“Good. One last thing.” She held out the sword in both hands, horizontally, like she was offering a formal gift. “When you unsheathe this sword next, it might sting a bit.”

“Sting?” I raised an eyebrow.

“The crystal that houses the spirit?” She pointed to the pommel. “It was damaged somehow — and its connections were damaged along with that. This wasn’t the seal. From what I can tell, it was something earlier.”

I frowned. “Well, the sword was damaged and repaired a few times…”

“Something like that would only damage spiritual veins if it was a layer-damaging attack, but I suppose that’s possible. Either way, that impeded the spirit’s ability to form a complete bond correctly. I’ve managed to repair that, but…it means you’re probably going to get a mark now. And getting a spirit mark from a feral spirit can be, uh…uncomfortable?”

I took a deep breath. Derek had explained that not all spirit-bonding items had physical marks, and I’d never found one on my body, but…the spirit had been both newly born and transplanted from sword-to-sword on multiple occasions. If there was some kind of actual spirit-bonding function in the sword itself that had been damaged, perhaps when Mizuchi had broken it…

“How’d you fix it?”

Mary looked hesitant for a moment, and I prepared for yet another “I can’t tell you right now,” but instead, she took a breath... “Danian essence sorcery stuff. I’m not quite Regalia-level myself, but I got access to Regalia-level functions early because of my bow, and I have some experience interfacing with regalia’s spiritual forms. I can perceive damage to spiritual objects and do a bit here and there.”

“Huh.” I nodded. I didn’t understand everything about that, but it was a pretty reasonable answer. “Can I ask you more about that later?”

“Sure. Can I borrow some more stuff for my next match? It’s still a bit off, but I’d like to practice with some of your items.”

I laughed. “You sure can. In fact, if you want to practice…it sounds like have a feral sword spirit to tame.”

***

After Mary accepted my offer, I headed back to my room with Selys-Lyann. In spite of the confidence in my words, I was worried. I invited both Sera and Len to watch over me while I drew the sword and re-ignited my spirit bond. Len would serve as a strong precaution — as a creation of the Spirit Gateway Crystal that had originally been created to fight against Keras, she was tremendously powerful with spirit magic.

I asked her a few initial questions, let her put some protection spells on me, and then I set my sword on my lap and drew out a fraction of the blade.

And wow, Mary wasn’t kidding about the sting.

It built up slowly at first, a tingling sensation that traveled down my arm, all the way to my chest. But unlike the first time I’d felt the chill exploring my star veins, the power didn’t pause to explore—

No, it stopped straight in the center of my chest.

I’d already felt that was the primary place the sword had attempted to bond to — it was where the spirit had settled longest during our first connection — but when I’d actually drawn in mana through Thorn, he’d seemingly been able to interact with any of my Dianis Points. Perhaps that was because of his own intellectual understanding of how my power worked, but either way, he hadn’t previously settled in one location.

This time? I felt something like a sword’s tip scratching across the front of my chest. It was immediate and intense enough that I ripped my own shirt open, gasping at the sudden pain, but there was no bloody wound—

Just a single symbol. Not like that of an attunement, but of a stylized sword with a hilt of thorns.

The pain flooded outward for another instant, as if finally choosing to explore my veins from within, but mercifully, it vanished the moment thereafter.

And then, I was simply left with my shirt torn half-open, with a strange half-glowing mark on my chest.

“Huh,” Sera said. “It’s green. Shame you didn’t get it earlier, would have added to the Emerald aesthetic.”

***

After Len ran some diagnostics to make sure that I was stable — and put a powerful long-term spell effect on my mark to keep the spirit from trying to influence me while it was still only half-aware — I stretched, fixed my shirt, and prepared for practice.

The first form of preparation? A mana check on my newly completed spirit bond. I was still trying to avoid overdoing it on mana checks, but a newly formed mark was absolutely the kind of time to get a benchmark.

Measuring the mana of the spirit bond was tricky. It didn’t provide me with a safe mana capacity in the same way that an attunement would. Instead, there were several different variables to test.

When I’d first formed the spirit bond, it had exclusively been utilizing my star veins to send spirit mana into my body, much like how my null-contract gauntlet worked, but on a full-body scale. That meant I’d been gradually acclimating to spirit mana throughout my entire essence structure, which was good, but I had no internal source.

By finishing the bonding process, I’d formed a container for Thorn’s essence in my Heart Point. According to Len, this wouldn’t prevent me from getting an attunement or crystal mark there. Spirit bonds utilized a different “chamber” of the essence structure, much like a physical heart had multiple chambers, whereas the ones that attunements and crystal marks used were the same as each other.

So, in summary, with the completed bond, I had a new container for mana. After some quick tests, we determined that my safe mana capacity with it was much greater than I’d expected. It started out at 276, which was already more than half-way between Carnelian and Sunstone. That was a little surprising.

“It’s likely a consequence of how you’ve been training with your attunements,” Len explained. “If you pass mana in between your attunements, like using your Arbiter attunement to enhance your Enchanter attunement, some of that mana passes through your heart as an intermediary. Each time you’ve done that, you’ve likely done some incidental boosting of your heart’s capabilities. Beyond that, you’ve been acclimating to spirit mana for the whole time you’ve been using that sword, even before you had your bond.”

Putting it in those terms, it made sense, but it felt a little bit like cheating—

I now had two hundred more mana to play with. Nearly another full attunement worth of power. After less than an hour of tests and rest, I was more than ready for that practice round with Mary.

***

I practiced with Mary on and off for the next week while she prepared for her match. She brushed up on her own sword skills, and I got used to seeing how her banishment spells worked in action.

There were more political moves happening during this entire time period, but as usual, I didn’t involve myself with them any more than I had to. My focus was on training, while Sera continued to pay more attention to the political landscape and the new arrivals at the council. Continued delays meant that there council still wasn’t formally in session, but regardless, people were making deals. Votes were being secured on large issues — and we needed to get as many votes of our own as we could.

Practicing with Thorn’s bond paid off, both in terms of increasing my safe mana capacity from 276 to 296 and, oddly, helping me feel like my crystal mark and Enchanter attunement were mending more quickly than they would have otherwise.

Spirit mana is one of the ways the body heals, I reminded myself. Might be worth taking some more tests to see if I can start using my Enchanter attunement sooner than expected.

Unfortunately, a quick check with a Mender told me that while I was healing, I wasn’t quite ready for that yet. And break time was over. It was time for Mary’s next match.

Hope you do better than I did.

Either way, I’ll be better prepared by the next time I have a serious fight.

If they’re going to make me fight people stronger than Emeralds, I need to be ready to be stronger than an Emerald myself. Or, at least, to make enough tools to fake it.

Chapter XVIII – Dalenos Duel

Mary stepped into the arena cautiously, watching the opposite side of the room. There was no magical darkness this time, but the room itself had changed, with blue crystals glowing on the walls and hexagonal pillars of varying heights strewn throughout the chamber.

Not the best setup for an archer, with so many impediments to line-of-sight.

I watched from the same vantage point as before, gazing into Len’s mirror from a room away from the main chamber. Mary looked nervous, but resolute.

Her opponent entered at the same time she did…and he wasn’t ideal. Not as bad of a matchup as Lute had been for me, certainly, but definitely not the type of match an Abjurer would prefer.

He wore long, traditional Artinian-style robes belted with what looked like a blue rope with an unusually elaborate knot. On the rope was a pair of wooden scabbards, each with beautiful etchings in the sides. Not runes, as far as I could tell — just language. There were enchantments on the scabbards, but their runes were probably on the insides, pressing against the blades.

He wasn’t much older than we were, maybe in his early twenties, but he already had dozens of tiny scars on his cheeks and neck. His hair was shoulder-length and black, bound back in a single ponytail. His eyes were half-open, as if perpetually sleepy, but his expression was serious. His right hand sat on the belt at his waist, in between the two scabbards.

I didn’t recognize him, but I knew who he was. Sera had continued to gather information on each of the combatants — and this time, they hadn’t caught us blind.

Takeshi Kurita had been one of the Dalenos Six during the Tournament of the Sacred Sword ten years in the past. He was a dual-attuned Champion and Swordmaster that had given Keras more than a bit of trouble.

This was his son, Takeshi Tetsurin. Who, in a shocking coincidence or more likely a case of startling nepotism, somehow happened to have exactly the same two attunements as his father.

I wondered if Katashi had handed those two attunements out personally, for services the father had made to Dalenos. I couldn’t exactly complain — it would have been incredibly hypocritical, considering Katashi had handed me an attunement myself — but the inconsistency in the system itself certainly deserved a bit of attention, even if I’d benefitted from it.

Anyway, Tetsurin was young, but already had worked his way into a very high rank in the Dalenos dueling circuit. He wasn’t one of the Dalenos Six. I assumed at first that he was present along with his father, and proving he was ready to work with that elite group. Strangely, Sera hadn’t mentioned anything about his father being present with the other members of the Dalenos Six, but it was possible that a warrior like Kurita was either retired or part of the war effort. I didn’t know if he’d be showing up later.

What I did know is that Mary wasn’t the only one borrowing equipment. And not just from friends and family

Takeshi Tetsurin, along three other candidates from Dalenos, had been loaned equipment by Katashi himself.

Now that…

That felt a little like cheating.

I tensed as Tetsurin waited for Mary to make her move, keeping his sandals planted near the doorway. He still looked sleepy and disinterested.

I could see why. I mean, it was probably an intimidation tactic. But beyond that, he was genuinely a bad matchup for an Abjurer. With compounding Enhancement-focused attunements, he was pretty much the worst possible scenario for someone who focused on dispelling magic. He used magic, sure, but most of that would be focused on enhancing his own abilities. That could still be theoretically dispelled, but the barrier of the skin made that much harder. External spells, especially things like summoned monsters, were much easier to counter with banishment.

From Mary’s grip on her bow, I suspected she’d sensed the same.

“Begin,” a voice called.

Mary pulled back her bow.

Tetsurin blew softly into the air.

Mist formed around his position, spreading across the room. Mary’s first arrow disappeared into the mist as it spread, tearing a hole through the obscuring mana as it passed, but meeting nothing before it harmlessly struck the back wall.

The mist continued to spread.

Mary pulled back her bow and fired. Her arrow flew upward, then arced down, splitting into six in mid-air. Each tore a new gash into the mist, cutting down the hiding places, but finding no sign of the opponent.

Tetsurin rushed out of the right side of the mist, already almost close enough to strike. Mary fired an arrow at him point-blank, but he snapped it out of the air with the back of his hand, wincing only briefly at the contact. Then, when he was in striking distance, his hand flew to the first sword on his hip.

He drew the longer of his swords in a single motion, the blade a strange dark grey color. Mary blocked the swing with her bow. Not a move I’d typically advise, but her spirit-bonded weapon was tougher than an ordinary weapon. The sword didn’t cut through it, but the force of the impact blasted Mary backward, clear across the room.

She loosed arrows again and again as she slid backward across the floor, but Tetsurin didn’t bother deflecting them now. Instead, as he raised the grey sword, it emitted a pulse that pulled the arrows toward it, causing them to vanish into the blade’s surface.

Tiny arrow-like symbols appeared on the grey sword’s surface.

I blinked.

Spell absorption? Like Ceris, but for multiple spells?

I wasn’t the only one reverse engineering ancient artifacts, apparently. Katashi had held Ceris for centuries. It would have been absurd if he hadn’t figured out how it worked at some point.

I just…hadn’t expected him to hand out something with that kind of capability for someone to just borrow for a duel.

A bad matchup to worse. I grimaced.

If Mary was feeling the pressure from the same realization I’d made, she didn’t show it. She snapped her fingers instead.

Nothing visible happened. Tetsurin closed in, swinging again. Mary ducked beneath it —

And the arrows she’d fired into the fog earlier emerged, arcing directly for Tetsurin’s exposed back.

He swung around, seeming to sense them at the last moment, and deflected three arrows with the flat of his blade. Two vanished, making new symbols.

The third didn’t.

A limit.

Mary must have realized it at the same time I did — and swept out with her left hand in a cutting motion. Her shroud followed the movement of her hand, sweeping out like a scythe.

Tetsurin parried her shroud.

Mary’s eyes widened as the shroud froze in place against the grey-bladed sword.

Tetsurin scowled at Mary, his face dripping with disdain. “You wear the garb of a miko, but you are unworthy.”

He shoved his sword upward, the motion lifting Mary’s shroud up and her along with it, sending her teetering back toward the arena wall. As she stumbled, he swung again, out of melee reach…and released the nine gleaming arrows he’d stored inside his weapon.

They flashed outward at different angles, each arcing unerringly toward Mary. She closed her eyes.

The arrows paused mid-flight, beginning to turn.

“No.” Tetsurin swung a hand upward. A tremendous wave of ice manifested as he moved, freezing the arrows in place.

Mary pulled back her bow and fired straight through the ice. Tetsurin blocked the arrow contemptuously, his sword absorbing the arrow as before.

His expression changed subtly as the ice began to crack. Mary strode forward, then raised her hand.

“Boo.” Mary flicked the ice. It exploded outward, chunks flying in Tetsurin’s direction. He deflected several pieces, symbols like shards of ice appearing on his sword’s surface, and side-stepped others.

In that short time, however, the nine formerly frozen arrows flowed toward Mary, lining up in a row.

“It doesn’t matter how many of those you fire,” Tetsurin said. “They aren’t strong enough to matter.”

“Not on their own,” Mary admitted, “but like friends, they’re stronger together.”

Tetsurin frowned. “How does that—”

A tiny gesture from Mary. The arrows floated together, merging into a single giant glowing arrow, which gleamed against the spectral string of Mary’s bow.

“Oh.” A pause from Tetsurin. “Oh no.”

The arrow began to spin in place, gleaming with more and more power. Tetsurin took a step back, bracing himself—

The entire room went white.

I heard something crack.

Then the brightness moved, the entire colossal arrow shoved off to the side, flying to crash into one of the tower walls, digging deep into the stone. My eyes widened as I considered the amount of sheer power it would take to make an attack that could break through those defensive enchantments—

And more so the amount of power necessary to turn it aside.

Tetsurin stood near the center of the arena. The mist was gone.

His grey-bladed sword was sheathed at his side—

And a new blade was glittering in his hands, the edges shining with sun-bright radiance.

The style of the sword was all wrong. The blade was curved and single-edged, the hilt too small, the runes in the wrong order. But the sword’s form was, nevertheless, instantly familiar.

Tetsurin was wielding a copy of Dawnbringer, the Sacred Sword of Light. And, if the sword’s glow was any indication, his copy was stronger than Bright Reflection.

Or, at least, it had been.

Cracks were spreading across the sword’s entire surface. Pale smoke was rising from those cracks as mana vented into the air.

Tetsurin’s sword hand was blistered and blackened from blocking the strike.

And now, at least, his eyes were wide open, his expression pained and angry.

“You…you dare…” He drew the sword back.

“Yep.” Mary winked. “And you might want to look behind you.”

Tetsurin blinked, spinning around, swinging at—

Nothing.

Mary shot him in the back with a pitch-black arrow before he could turn back around.

He fell to a knee with a hiss, the arrow lodged in his shoulder. He reached up to try to grab at it, but she’d hit him at an extremely awkward angle.

“You…” He winced.

“Never was a very good miko,” Mary said. “But I really do love the outfit.”

She walked over to the downed swordsman. He stumbled to his feet, but he was moving slower now, the arrow doing its job.

When he swung at her, she simply stepped backward to avoid the swing, then closed in and smashed him in the face with her bow. Tetsurin went down face-first.

“Helps people think I fight fair.”

Chapter XIX – Preparation

Len went to meet with Mary in the aftermath of the match. I presumed that someone else was going to do the same for the injured Tetsurin, but I wasn’t sure who was handling coordination with other nations, or why Len in particular seemed to be the one escorting people from Valia around. She wasn’t actually Valian, or even from Kaldwyn.

That said, my mild curiosity about the subject wasn’t enough to get me to dig further into political questions when I had other things that were of greater interest.

I waited while Len took Mary to speak to the council, then the pair of them showed up in Len’s lounge. Vermillion trailed after them. They all sat down.

“You handled that one better,” Len said. “Much cleaner fight.”

“We handled that one better.” Mary smiled. “Would have been a lot tougher without Sera’s candidate list to prepare for and Corin’s arrows. I’m still impressed you can make anything with void.”

“I cheated, really, since I got the void sword from the spire. Copying and transferring enchantments is a lot easier than making them in the first place.”

Vermillion shook her head. “I don’t think following standard enchanting practices is cheatin’, Cadence. Everyone copies stuff.”

“…You’re not wrong. Anyway, still couldn’t have made it work if you didn’t have all that weird black metal stuff to enchant. What even is that?”

“Something from back home,” Mary offered.

I folded my arms. “Please, please don’t do the ancient wizard ‘I can’t tell you this irrelevant factoid because it would disrupt the nature of all reality’ thing.”

Mary chuckled. “It’s something my sister gave us before…before we left. She didn’t have time to say much, but it’s supposed to be strong. It’s something to do with the Sun Eater.”

“Wait, what?” I practically stood up. “Related to him how?”

“I think it’s a remnant from one of the worlds he destroyed,” Mary said. “I don’t know the details. My sister called it lostite. I’m pretty sure that it’s not the real word for it.”

“Any word used broadly enough is a ‘real’ word for it. Common usage dictates meaning,” Len added helpfully.

I gave her a side-eyed look. “Language aside, do you have any insights?”

“Pass the circlet or one of the arrows over?” Len said.

Mary reached into the seemingly empty quiver on her hip, withdrawing an arrow. I felt fortunate that her quiver could support holding items with void in it — I wasn’t sure if it would be stable, but not everyone was as fearful of storing items in dimensional spaces as I was. Mary’s worked fine.

Len turned the arrow over in her hands. “Dominion of knowledge, reveal to me the composition of this material.” Her nostrils flared for a moment as she processed, looking vaguely annoyed. “Dominion of knowledge, reveal to me the dominions this is connected to.”

She blinked, then handed the arrow back to Mary. “Fascinating. I think the story about the Sun Eater might be true.”

“You were doubtin’ Mary before?” Rose leaned forward, looking frustrated and protective.

“You wouldn’t believe how many people say some random knick-knack has something to do with one ancient god or another. In any case, I can’t confirm details about the item’s history from thousands of years ago without powerful memory sorcery, which isn’t my area of strength, but it does have inherent properties related to ruin and shade, so…very plausible that it was built by or for a member of the Sun Eater’s army. Or simply changed by the Sun Eater’s magic, or something related to it.”

I nodded. “Did you get anything analyzing the material itself?”

“It’s primarily an iron alloy. Other common materials as well — carbon, traces of copper. Given the carbon content, it might technically be steel. You’d want to ask a metallurgist. The strange dominion essence comes from small amounts of another material that I’m not familiar with, which would be your ‘lostite’. Or, I suppose, you could call the whole thing ‘lostite’, if you want to refer to an iron alloy containing those specific components by that name.”

“…Right.” I took a breath. “Okay, thanks. Should we be worried about the Sun Eater caring that we have these things?”

Len shook her head. “The Sun Eater has conquered dozens of planets. His armies have, over time, probably used billions of weapons and items. It’s highly unlikely anyone is keeping track of everything they ever used.”

Hearing about the armies using billions of items definitely put the Sun Eater’s threat level on a different scale from what I’d been picturing, which was already bad enough.

“Gettin’ a bit distracted. Congrats are in order, Mary,” Rose offered.

“Oh, sure.” She smiled. “Thank you. I just did my best.”

“You did well,” Len said. “But your third match will be the hardest yet. Do you have more materials for Corin to enchant?”

“Think we’ve played out the void weapon bit,” Rose interjected. “They’ll have a counter for that next. Might be best to try something else.”

“If you have other raw materials…I have a few ideas.”

***

Mary and Rose didn’t have much else for me to work with for enchanting, but Len did. I wasn’t sure how fair it was for one of the residents of the tower to be helping specific candidates, but I supposed she technically was just someone outside of the Four Powers and could do what she wanted.

While we talked, Len retrieved a box, setting it down in front of us. “Some of Warren’s old enchanting supplies he hasn’t had a chance to work with. If Corin happened to be interested in making a few items with those supplies for the tower’s use, Master Constantine would be happy to allow him to loan those items out, and to keep a quarter of what he builds for himself. Or, for friends, if he chooses.”

“Making it look you’re basically just paying Corin for doing some enchanting work?” Rose asked.

“While I don’t have to pretend to be neutral in this, it’s important that Master Constantine does. Since these resources belong to him, simply handing them out wouldn’t be appropriate during a contest like this. There’s some room to claim acceptability in handing out resources since Warren has been a teacher for Corin in the past, but claiming he’s putting Corin to work on enchanting things for the tower and letting him keep some of them makes it much less controversial.”

I nodded. “Fine by me. What’s in the crate?”

Len opened the top. My eyes widened.

“Those are all Grade 3 and 4 Mana Crystals, aren’t they?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t know,” Len smiled. “Just an old box of supplies. Someone want to help me carry some others down here?”

***

We spent a while hauling boxes back to the viewing room. I stopped counting at twelve containers — Warren apparently had hoarded or made quite a few crystals during his career.

I was a little sad I couldn’t actually keep the boxes of mana crystals, but having them on-hand helped make enchanting a lot easier. Other boxes contained items for the purposes of enchanting — high-capacity raw materials of several types.

I would have been happy to just sit around and enchant things for Warren for his benefit and practice, if I had the time.

“Would Warren be offended if I make something to help with his, uh…mana overuse issues?” I asked Len.

“Not offended, but he already does have items for that. It doesn’t really matter. He doesn’t trust items made with attunements much more than he trusts attunements themselves.”

I frowned. “I don’t think these have the same problems—”

“Not around the others, Corin. Master Constantine’s fears are personal.”

I frowned. “Got it. Sorry. Maybe we can work something out later?”

“Maybe.” She nodded. “I’d like that. For now, let’s focus on what Mary needs.”

“Right.” I took a breath. “When’s the next match?”

“We have a few days. We’re still running the second round of trials for others and some new candidates for the first round that have shown up more recently. There’s been an agreement not to do the third round until the first two rounds have wrapped up, which is normal. In addition, I suspect there will be delays for some specific Emeralds to show up, for each nation to better hand-pick someone to counter each of the people who make it through round two.”

“How exactly is it that they’re picking people for us to fight against?” Mary asked. “Feels a little strange.”

“For the first round, for each candidate, someone proposes one or more candidates for Summoners or Conjurers to summon monsters to counter a candidate. There’s a voting for each proposal which is seconded, which almost all of them get. Nations tend to do back-room deals ahead of time to get counters chosen and voted for. In the second round, the first candidate is selected based on when they completed round one. Then, a council member nominates an opponent, and we have voting, similar to the previous rounds.”

“…Meanin’ that Corin was at a disadvantage for goin’ first,” Rose said with a frown.

“Yes, but it was a gamble to get him in there before stronger opponents were available. That gamble failed, but it wasn’t a bad strategy, based on past precedent — just one that didn’t work out.”

I nodded. “Okay. So, for the third round, can we, I don’t know, do some of our own deals with other nations to vote against the candidates that we don’t want Mary to fight?”

“Your sister is already working on that,” Len explained. “But it’s not likely to work.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Dalenos brought the largest group of Emeralds this year, and they’re voting as a bloc, and compensating others for voting with them.”

“Isn’t that the type of thing that would make someone look bad if they accept?” Mary asked. “Like, going against their nation’s interests?”

“The compensation isn’t always — or even usually — financial. It’ll be things like, ‘Dalenos will give this concession in voting to Edria, or this resource to Caelford, in exchange for a vote in favor of this candidate to fight against Valia getting more votes’. And, of course, they do the same thing with Valian representatives to cut off the number of votes from Caelford and Edria. Frankly, Valia does the same thing. Everyone does.”

Rose frowned. “Feels a little bad, doesn’t it?”

“That’s politics.” Len shrugged. “And it helps Dalenos that most people are convinced that they’ll win, even in Valia.”

I took a deep breath, hearing that. “…Because they have a visage’s support, and we don’t?”

“That’s the main factor, but there are other things in play.”

I spent a little longer going over Sera’s list of likely combatants with Mary and Rose, but given that the third match could be any existing Emerald, it was a much longer list than before. Any of the Dalenos Six were likely, including the father of the man that Mary had just defeated, if he decided to show up at some point. If he took his son’s defeat personally, he might push for a match of his own for the third round, but we all agreed it wasn’t likely. Too predictable.

They’d probably go for someone they felt could counter both a potentially summoned Vermillion Rose and the presence of void mana items, as well as someone who could counter Mary’s own core skill set.

That led us to a single most likely candidate — Hikaru Hisashi, an Emerald-level Abjurer believed to have a second attunement of some kind.

She was, in essence, someone with Mary’s core skillset and years of additional experience.

At least on the surface. We still weren’t sure if the Dalenos faction realized they were dealing with an essence sorcerer, rather than just a standard attuned. Even if they hadn’t, though, we were in agreement that Mary’s combined and compounded banishment powers still wouldn’t be enough to counter an Emerald — especially if that Emerald had a second attunement or something like a crystal mark of her own.

“Let’s not get too deep into speculating about who she might fight right now — there are too many variables. Can you work with the items you have available here?”

“Definitely,” I said. “Can I take these upstairs to my room?”

“We can do better than that,” Len said. “How would you like to see Master Constantine’s workshop?”

***

I spent the next few hours working in Warren’s old workshop, trying to figure out the best items for Mary.

Warren’s workshop was about what you’d expect from an Enchanter, complete with a personal organization system that was completely opaque to anyone other than himself. He’d apparently alphabetized the various material components, but using some kind of dead language that not even Len could read or understand. So, I just kind of…drifted through everything, figuring out what was usable, what was useful, and what I couldn’t even identify.

In the end, I settled on building some items to boost Mary’s own abilities first, then generic items that would be usable by anyone in a duel, and finally, items for countering other Abjurers.

Those would roughly be split across a three-day period, or at least that was the plan.

On the first day, I made two items for Mary. The first was a classic bracer, since Mary typically wore archer-style wristguards, in spite of the fact that she didn’t actually have to worry about a bowstring hitting her arm when firing a spirit bow. The bracer itself was some type of leather, which didn’t have a material capacity capable of holding much, but it had three large gemstones embedded across the surface. I etched and enchanted that, bringing Mary herself up to help.

I didn’t have a banishment mana battery, so I needed someone who had the mana type to make banishment enchantments.

The functionality of the bracer was simple — it stored banishment mana like a battery, designed to automatically feed more power into banishment spells the wearer was casting. Functionally, it was very similar to some of the first items I’d made for Patrick and Mara all the way back before our mid-terms in the first year of Lorian Heights, just designed for an Abjurer.

Mary helped me charge a single capacity rune on the first gem with the majority of her mana she had available, then we waited for her to recover her mana and added a recharge rune of the same level. Then, after more rest, a much lower mana cost function rune to incrementally draw mana from the gem’s storage.

Simple. Then, I let her rest, let the gem recharge to full capacity, and began to power the next identical gemstone using the first, much like I built secondary batteries with a first battery.

There were several limits to using batteries to build other batteries and similar things.

First, material capacities. I’d gotten close to the material limits on the things I was using for batteries already. Fortunately, these items Warren provided were designed for Citrine-level Enchanters — probably his old level, before he decided to destroy his attunements — and they had capacity to spare.

Second, it did cost me mana just to move an enchantment from place to place. I couldn’t do that indefinitely, and the larger an enchantment’s power, the more mana it cost me to move.

Third, enchantment rune stability. This was generally what stopped most enchanters from, say, taking two mana batteries to make a larger one, like Cecily and I had been able to. Enchantment runes needed to be charged completely within a set time frame or they’d simply fall apart. This meant that, for an average Carnelian-level Enchanter, taking two 360-mana Sunstone-level batteries to charge a 720-mana battery might not be possible before the enchantment collapsed. My transference compounding from two attunements made me vastly better than a standard Enchanter at this specific issue, but I’d still hit limits if I tried to, say, combine several batteries into one, or basically anything beyond Citrine-size.

Fourth, runes. Even if I could deal with the other problems, I needed to know the runes for every increment of mana capacity, recharge, and function that I wanted to build into something. It was generally pretty easy for me to find a “standard” rune size for any given level — 60 for Carnelian, 360 for Sunstone, etc. — but something like a 720-mana rune was much harder to come by and I couldn’t always correctly intuit what it would look like. So, this required time and study, especially for obscure mana types like banishment.

Fifth, arguably the greatest issue — efficiency. Moving mana from place-to-place involved some mana loss. Having two attunements with transference mana helped with this as well, as did mana shaping practice, but I still wasn’t one hundred percent efficient. That meant, for example, that if I was moving 360 banishment mana from one of the gems to charge another enchantment, and I was losing 10% of that, I had to pull that 36 mana from somewhere. This could be by spending my own mana, if I had access to that mana type, or from a secondary battery, a mana crystal, or something else.

In this case, we were in a high enough mana saturation location that I was simply letting the initial item recharge to about fifteen percent — which took about nine minutes — while manually focusing on keeping the partially charged rune stable. There would be a bit of mana dissipation during that time, as well as more mana loss from transferring the extra fifteen percent, but the overall loss was small enough that the extra five percent made up for it, allowing me to charge the rune.

That strategy wouldn’t have worked in a location with lower mana saturation, since the item wouldn’t have recharged fast enough. Similarly, it would be much harder with higher-level enchantments, since I was less mana-efficient when moving them. If I hit a point where I was at fifteen percent or higher mana loss in the initial transfer, the rune would generally destabilize before I could complete it.

All in all, that meant that I couldn’t, say, take twelve of Warren’s enchantment-ready items and make an Emerald-level banishment item through charging enchantments with other enchantments. Similarly, I couldn’t easily work my way up to Emerald-level batteries from Sunstone-level ones, even if I had all the materials.

With all of these issues taken into account, what I made for the bracer involved three 360-mana-capacity runes — one on each gem — and functions to add about a tenth of the power of each, or 108 extra mana, any time she cast a banishment spell. That basically added mid-Sunstone-level extra power to ten spells she’d cast. Still nothing compared to an Emerald’s power, but with all of Mary’s own compounding banishment, she was probably in the high Sunstone to low Citrine-level range of power output. With this, she should be comfortably outputting Citrine-level power for those ten spells.

Not enough to put her on even ground, but closer.

After that, I put some other enchantments on the gems — anti-tampering and anti-interference. I didn’t want her opponent trying to turn her item against her, nor did I want the gems to make each other explode. The latter was unlikely, since they were the same mana type and near-identical, which caused less interference than dissimilar enchantments, but I always liked to avoid hand-exploding incidents when I could — especially for other people.

After that, I worked on some enchantments for her robes. They were made of some kind of Danian-native material with a high mana capacity, similar to the metalweave silk that was used for Valia’s famous dueling tunics. I could work with that.

Mary physically stitched the runes in a metallic thread that Warren had in his supplies, since stitching wasn’t my area of expertise. Then, I charged the runes with a variety of defensive functions, most notably against banishment and light magic. If she was going up against someone with powers similar to her own, specialized defenses for that purpose would go a long way.

After that, we were both too exhausted for the day to continue. We went to get food. I took a break to read, and during that break, I learned that I wasn’t the only one in my group who had been busy.

***

I was resting and thinking in our private room when Mara returned, looking the most intense that I’d seen her since…well, before the fight with Saffron, really.

I sat up in bed as she entered, pushing my book aside — I hadn’t really been reading it, anyway — and gave her a quizzical look.

“Busy?” she asked.

“Not really. What’s going on?”

She waved me over, and I extracted myself from bed as she went over to one of the room’s tables. She unslung her pack from her back, opened it, and carefully removed something. Then, as I approached, she unfolded it across the table.

I frowned. “A map of the Unclaimed Lands?” I paused, looking closer. There were dozens of pins stuck in the map in different spots with color-coded heads. “Wait, are these…?”

“Shrine locations,” she explained. “Or, probable ones, at least. Some of my sources were more reliable than others. A few are well-traveled and documented, but others — especially the umbral-aligned ones — tend to be tougher to find reliable sources about. Including the one that I wanted to find.”

She put a finger on the map.

“The shade shrine, I’m guessing?” I leaned in closer. “But that tip isn’t a color for umbral mana, so…wait. Does red mean…?”

“Edrian controlled. I didn’t have a good enough variety of pins to do full flag colors, so I simplified a bit.” Mara turned to me. “Want to go?”

I blinked. “Uh, probably? I, uh, don’t actually get a vote at this point, but…”

“If you need to stay to support Patrick, I understand,” she said in a tone that sounded like she did understand, but that she’d be disappointed.

“No, no. I mean, I do want to support Patrick, of course, but Sera is much better at this political business. I’m helping more with Mary and Vermillion at this point, to be honest…and I think I’ve about maximized my utility there. I do want to be around for certain events,” I said, hesitantly. “But we might have some time before that plays out. It’s more just the whole, uh, controlled by our historical military rivals thing?”

“That’s, uh…good news and bad news?” Mara looked a little flustered.

“Just lay it out.”

“I talked to Hannah Meiyer. She was, uh, receptive, since you know, she’d lost her own hand at one point, and she agreed that without the kind of help that she got right away, the shade shrine would have been a good solution. She…seemed nice. Nicer than I expected.”

I nodded. “And she has the leverage to get you in?”

“To get us in. It’s a two-person shrine. Fits the shade theme. Have to solve two things at once. There are workarounds, like summons, but for most people, it’s for pairs.”

“Makes sense. What’s the problem?”

“I…told her who I was planning to bring. And she knew who I was, and who you were, and…she wants us to do someone a favor in exchange.”

I felt my stomach lurch. “…And by someone, you mean the Emperor of Edria.”

She gave me a terse nod. “Uh, yep.”

“That’s…we’d be completely under their power, meeting her there. Not that we’re that much safer here, but…”

“She agreed that we could use our own transportation, at least, meaning Elora could bring us to the site, and come back to pick us up if we send a message, but it’s an Edrian military facility, and they couldn’t stay there. We also wouldn’t be expected to do the favor while we’re there — the emperor won’t be present at the site. We’d be meeting her here, later. Still…an open-ended favor to the leader of a nation is a cost.”

“…Yeah, that’s bad,” I agreed.

We paused briefly.

“I could say no,” she said hesitantly, after a while.

“No,” I said. “Don’t do that. But we’re not going to just take this on their terms, either.”

“You think we have room to negotiate?” Mara asked.

“I have no idea, honestly…but I’m getting better at realizing that I don’t have to be. We have someone else for that.”

***

Shortly later, we sat in a circular room that had been set up for private dining. It was built for dozens, but at the moment, there were only a few people sitting at the center of the room.

“And so you see,” Sera tipped her cup of tea, taking a brief sip, “given that Len Hastings is politically neutral, and a near-perfect magical copy of one of Keras’ close allies, I think your emperor would enjoy meeting her. Allowing her to escort Miss Callahan to the shrine would help provide teleportation redundancy in the event of an emergency, which could be useful to your forces as well. And, given her role in this gathering as a whole, she’d be an excellent third party to adjudicate any specific ‘favors’ that are to be exchanged.”

Hannah’s eyes narrowed. “Your whole family is aiming to cause me as much trouble as possible, aren’t you?”

“Well, you know what they say about Cadences and Edria.” Sera gave her a sly look.

Hannah sighed loudly. “Fine.” She gestured at a table cluttered with figurines in front of them. “But the next time we play a game, we’re using Edrian rules, and none of your reshing House Hartigan army nonsense.”

“Oh, I love the Edrian variants. Especially Xiao Ren’s Castle variant.”

Hannah glowered at her. “No one wins when you play Xiao Ren’s Castle.”

“Exactly! Just like real warfare.” Sera smiled. “Just a matter of who quits first and who has to deal with cleaning up the board.”

“Ugh. Goddess save me, you’re worse than the prince.” Hannah threw her hands up. “Fine. Your Len can chaperone your brother and his friend to the base and for the meeting. Don’t blame me if she doesn’t like the emperor’s questions.”

“I’m very certain that Len would love to talk to a fellow Keras fan, especially one in such a high position.”

I think Hannah’s eye actually twitched. Like, really, truly twitched. “I’m not sure fan is the word I’d use.”

“I’m sure there’s something far more charming and eloquent in Cas. Alas, I only took two years of it, and my vocabulary is lacking, so…”

“That’s not what…you know what, it’s really obvious that you know, and that you’re playing with me, and I’m just going to let this one go.” Hannah stood up. “I genuinely wasn’t planning anything nefarious for your brother, you know.” She gave me a look when she said that.

I put my hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“You might not have,” Sera said, “but our nations do have a history, and I could see that other people might not be as inclined toward being friendly toward a young visiting Cadence, especially during a time of political and military turmoil. So, please allow us this little bit of comfort.”

“I get it, I get it.” Hannah set her tea cup down. “This is really good.”

“I’d hoped it would be. It’s your favorite.” Sera smiled.

“…Of course it is.” Hannah shook her head. “Creepy how you people do that.”

“Isn’t it?” Sera gave her a smile. “And more sincerely, Miss Executioner — thank you. You’re doing a favor for a dear friend, and I don’t forget things like that.”

“I imagine you don’t forget much in general,” Hannah grumbled.

“No, I’m afraid I have to record things from time to time. My brother is the one who is developing a near-perfect memory. And I’m certain he’ll remember this was a positive exchange, and that will reflect well in the favor negotiations when they occur.”

That was a rare cue for me to speak up, so I did. “Of course. I’ll remember.”

“Right.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Remember that when you talk to the emperor, please. By not making yourself too interesting.”

“I don’t think I’m that interesting in general,” I explained. “I lost my second round, you know.”

“You lost your second match because they blindsided you with a Muramasa, kid.” Hannah gave me a strangely sympathetic look. “No shame in that. Believe me. I know.”

“You…oh.” I stopped, remembering more about the tournament she’d fought in years before. “Right. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Gotta get going now, before your sister convinces me to sell the entire base to Valia or something.”

“Is that an option?” Sera asked. “Because, now that you mention it…”

Hannah made a very hasty retreat after that.

Sera winked at me. “I make great tea.”

“Her favorite, apparently? You researched that in advance?”

She snorted. “Not a chance. All I did was read her expression.”

“…Huh.”

Maybe talking to people like she did was a type of magic, too.

Chapter XX – Quests and Questions

It took a bit longer to figure out some of the details with Sera, then I was back to visiting Len, this time with as much secrecy as we could muster.

“Lord Cadence, what did you wish to discuss in private?” Len asked after we stepped into the sparring room. I hoped that I wouldn’t need to use it for security too frequently, but I had a feeling I was going to end up in there often as the council continued.

I nodded. “A few things, actually. And Corin is fine.”

“Perhaps in this context, it is.” Her voice had a slight chiding tone to it. “You should be aware, however, that your station is important here. And, as difficult as it might be, you should encourage your cohorts to demonstrate discipline in public spaces and utilize your title properly. Some leeway might be given to your sister, but even allowing that is a statement. By allowing her to call you Corin, you are effectively acknowledging her as your equal in status. That may raise the council’s estimation of her significance…or lower yours.”

I folded my arms. “More likely a bit of both. I might find this uncomfortable, but I’m not entirely new at this.”

“That may be so, but that is notably less true for your retainer and…whatever Miss Callahan is to you. I won’t inquire, in case you have some plan to reveal, but assumptions might be made that if she’s overly familiar she might be your betrothed, or perhaps Sera’s, or—”

“She’s Keras’ other apprentice. We’re training partners.”

“I suppose that would explain a degree of your lack of formality with each other, especially if you were training under his guidance.” Len sighed. “He never was good with titles and propriety.”

“Actually, if you don’t mind, Mara is the main reason I’m here.”

“Oh? I’d assumed you had more magical theory and enchantment resources to ask about.” She raised an eyebrow.

“…I mean, I actually do, and now I feel kind of bad about asking you about so many things in a row, but—”

“Think nothing of it. Just as Keras is your master, he is a dear friend. And, moreover, I’ve come to think of you as students of my own and Warren’s as well. Obviously, not to the same degree — we haven’t had enough time together for that — but Researcher told me a great deal about all of you when she stayed behind for a bit after you left, and I’ve been impressed by what I’ve been told. You’re quite the talent for your age, but more important than that, I believe our values are closely aligned.”

“In regards to the treatment of summoned monsters, you mean? Or Katashi and such?”

“Principally the former, though they are issues that are intertwined in ways that may become clearer to you over time.”

I frowned a little at that, but I thought I could see where she was going. If Len had ethical issues with how summoned monsters were treated, much of that could be traced back to the visages in general, or even Selys herself. I’d read through many of the sub-glyphs involved in a Summoner contract as a part of my Null-Contract Gauntlet research, including the glyphs that were stored on the summon’s side of things…and they were, in brief summary, the type of contract that few sane humans would want to agree to.

Of course, monsters created by the spires wouldn’t have had any choice in the matter. They’d be bound to those terms from birth, or near to it. And that, it seemed, was something Len wanted to change.

“You seem to be getting distracted,” she noted.

“Ah, sorry. Happens a lot. Where were we?”

“Well, you’d mentioned Mara was the principal reason for today’s visit.”

“Right, she is,” I started. “And speaking of right…she’s right-handed. Or, at least, she was. That’s a large part of what I wanted to talk to you about. The sword she’s carrying is a replica of Dawnbringer, which Keras and I made together for Patrick. We’ve both been borrowing it from Patrick, which I think has helped her morale a bit, but…after she lost her hand, she’s been in a difficult spot. She is, or was, primarily an unarmed fighter.”

Len pushed the glasses up on her nose. “You’re a resourceful person, an Arbiter, and the lord of your family. And, as much as my lord might disapprove, you have clear connections to Farren. You certainly have the means to afford a prosthetic, so you must have a reason you are avoiding the obvious route.”

“She doesn’t want one. She wants a flesh-and-blood hand, or at least as close as she can get.”

“Regenerating a hand is a difficult task. Could the original be reattached?” Len asked.

I shook my head. “It was…in no condition for that. Worse, her spirit and shade are damaged.”

“That complicates things significantly. May I ask how that occurred?”

I exhaled a deep breath, glancing from side-to-side as an additional cursory inspection of the room’s runes, then turned back to Len to speak quietly. “She lost her hand fighting the vae’kes Saffron.”

There was an awkward pause as Len stared at me, her hands quietly opening and closing in the air. Something about that statement had set her off more than I’d expected.

“I…see. I think we’d best have this conversation sitting down.” She snapped her fingers, producing a pair of chairs. “And you should tell me everything.”

I sat down with Len and explained what had happened with Mara and Saffron. She listened patiently, before offering her own perspective.

“…In another life, a different Lydia Hastings had a run-in with a vae’kes not unlike your own. He stole from her as well, and so far as I know, she never fully recovered from when he shattered her leg. This body,” Len gestured to her own, “has disadvantages, but I am fortunate that it is largely formed from essence, and thus, easier to rebuild. Your friend will suffer from the same difficulties that the original Lydia did. Even the most talented spirit mage that I knew was unable to completely fix the damage to my former self…but Aladir was limited to local knowledge. We have the benefits of greater resources and perspective here. Helping your friend will not be easy, but it may be possible.”

“Which approach would you suggest?”

I’d already told her a number of our ideas, without giving away too many specifics that might be considered confidential, like that Elora was Suzaku’s Summoner. I spoke in more general terms, such as consulting a god beast. I also mentioned that we’d made tentative arrangements to visit the shade gateway shrine, if she was amenable to helping with that.

“Do you think one of those options would work?” I asked her.

“Completely regenerating her original hand would, in all likelihood, require the help of an entity with access to magic from every single layer of self. This is something that the god beasts or visages might physically be capable of, but I would not anticipate any individual entity having the relevant levels of skill for every single necessary essence type. Even beings with access to massive power tend to specialize. I’m sure you noted that Saffron, for example, was not equally skilled with all of the forms of magic at his disposal. The visages, gateway crystals, and god beasts will be the same way.”

“What about Suzaku? Phoenixes are associated with rebirth.”

“I would concur that Suzaku would be the most likely single entity to possess the relevant powers, but that would not be a guarantee. I’ve spent a considerable amount of time researching resurrection magic, given that it is closely related to my own nature and existence. Every form of resurrection I’m aware of uses one or more of the layers of self as a template for the recreation of the original self. In your friend’s case, the hand is likely damaged on all layers, meaning that using resurrection-style magic would be no different from any other form of advanced healing. It’s possible — even likely — that Suzaku has a more advanced knowledge of healing magic than my own and may be able to do something, but I would urge you to keep your expectations low. Moreover, given the current political climate, I would urge you to consider that calling on favors from a god beast may have a cost that is disproportionately high.”

I understood all of that, but I had to ask for Mara’s sake. “What about something like…if we got her access to shade magic through the shrine…could she use shade magic to copy and mirror her good hand?”

“Possibly, but hands are not exact mirrors of one another. Attempting to make a hand that is exactly symmetrical and mirrored to the opposite hand would not result in full functionality. You might be able to make something from an amalgam of her good hand and the remaining layers of her damaged one, but that’s an extremely complex piece of healing. I wouldn’t advise attempting it yourself.”

“Is it something you could help with?”

Len shook her head. “If I thought I was capable of that, I would have already offered. As a construct from the Spirit Gateway Crystal, I’m quite powerful with spirit magic, but I do not have the level of anatomical knowledge or layer-perception necessary for an operation of that kind.”

I frowned. “What about the Spirit Gateway Crystal itself? Would they help us, if we went there rather than the shade shrine?”

She shook her head. “The gateway crystals might be able to do most of the work, but not all of it. Not on their own, at least. Some of the layers of self are far enough apart on the essence spectrum that any given crystal is highly unlikely to have significant skill. For example, since spirit mana consists of life and light mana, that crystal has very limited access to things that oppose those essence types. That would include some layers of self, most notably the dream self, which involves shadow essence.”

“…Okay. What about asking one of the crystals to repair some layers, and then using the repaired layers as a baseline to fix the others?”

“That might be hypothetically possible, but I should stress that I am not an expert on healing magic on that scale, and there may be problems I am not capable of anticipating. I would urge you to consult a true expert. Have you spoken to the Transcendence Gateway Crystal?”

I shook my head. “Sera already tried that. The summoned version isn’t capable of it, and even the true crystal isn’t a healing expert. They specialize in improvements — they might be able to make Mara some kind of new hand, but restoring the original as it was wouldn’t be within their skill set.”

“Understandable. Also, I believe that shrine is currently under Dalenos occupation.”

“That’s what Mara’s notes said, too.” I winced. “What about the Spirit Gateway Shrine? Is it still accessible? Mara wasn’t sure.”

“I don’t know either, but given the location, I would expect it to be under Dalenos control as well. It’s something I intend to investigate, but that would require significant military backing. If we successfully take control over the shrine, I’d be happy to bring Miss Callahan there to attempt the trials, but I would advise you that those tests are more dangerous than those at the Transcendence Gateway Shrine, and I would not be able to provide any unfair advantages.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t want any. That said, if the shrine may be under Dalenos control, that’s not something we can act on immediately. Hm. Any others that might be better bets than shade?”

Len adjusted her glasses, considering. “No, I believe that Mara’s plan is a sound one. Shade is one of the most potent dominions for the purposes of healing and regeneration — it may be a good option for your friend to gain information or direct healing. The shrine itself presents moderate danger, but…with a copy of Dawnbringer…it might be feasible, even with her injuries.”

“That leads me to another awkward question. Given that the shrine is under Edrian control, would you be able to escort us there and watch over us for a bit?” I asked.

Len seemed to consider that, then nodded. “We’d have to time it during a period that the council isn’t in session, like deep in the evening. Get out there, do the tests, and then teleport back the same evening if possible. My understanding is that the shade shrine, much like my own, can be completed in a matter of hours — it should be feasible.”

“You wouldn’t lose sleep doing something like that late at night? Or…since you’re a spirit construct…do you not need sleep?”

She laughed. “If only. No, I need sleep just like anyone else does, but as a dream mage, I have workarounds. Spells to put myself to sleep rapidly and soundly, with improved efficiency. I can cut my necessary sleep for a night down to a few hours. It’s not something I should use on myself repeatedly, but for a single night, it’s not a problem.”

“Huh. Would that work on us?” I thought about the training possibilities of adding a few extra hours to the day, but Len swiftly shook her head.

“Not unless you’re acclimated to dream mana. It’s a higher-level spell, and it works on me the way it does because I’ve practiced it enough to use it safely. You’d have to spend time training with weaker dream magic spells — both casting them yourself, and having them cast on you — for something like my efficient sleep spells to be safe to use in any regular fashion.”

I nodded. “Understood.”

I still had to wonder how long that acclimation would take, and if it would ultimately save me time if I could reduce my sleep burden a few times a week…but it was yet another thing to add to my list of possible tools to employ in the future. And, given that dream magic opposed the types I was studying, it wasn’t a likely strategy for the near future.

“Okay. Thank you,” I continued. “Do you know much about the shrine?”

“A bit.” She pushed up her glasses. “Every shrine has certain unique elements to their challenges — in the case of shade, the core ‘themes’ involve things like reversal and pairs, which often encourages solutions like doing opposite puzzles in two rooms at once. Summoners and similar attunements can handle the place on their own with help from their summoned allies, but most people simply enter with a companion or a team with an even-numbered group size.”

“That’s about what Mara had heard, too. Thank you.”

Len nodded. “Of course. I’m…happy to do whatever I can to help one of Keras’ apprentices. Especially one who was hurt in a way that is all too familiar to me. I wish I could do more.”

“…Actually, there is one more thing I wanted to ask. More along the lines of the magic theory stuff you thought I was here about.” I unbelted Selys-Lyann, offering the sword to her. “This sword has an intelligent spirit. Or…had, at least. He was banished during the fight with Saffron. I’ve been trying to get him back by attempting to emulate a Spirit Art he used, and you saw the exchange with Mary talking about undoing the seal, but…”

Len’s coughed. “You’re…going to need to back up and explain that from the start, too.”

I filled Len in on the background of Selys-Lyann, Thorn, and everything that had happened. Ordinarily, I might have kept something like Thorn’s nature secret from most people, but Len was a spirit based on Keras’ companion from Mythralis — she wouldn’t have the same biases about the Tyrant in Gold that a Kaldwyn-native would.

Rather than looking horrified at the explanation of Thorn’s nature like I expected most people would, she simply looked fascinated. As I finished the explanation, she nodded and adjusted her glasses again. “…You were right to come to me with this. Thorn’s situation is not all that dissimilar from my own.”

I blinked. I hadn’t thought of them as being similar — Thorn was a spirit bound to a sword, after all — but in retrospect, it made sense. Len, too, was born from an amalgam of an original spirit and elements taken from others…specifically, Keras’ memories and perceptions of Lydia Hastings. There certainly were some parallels between her and Thorn from a magic theory standpoint. “Does that mean you can help?”

“Perhaps. Firstly, however, I would strongly advise you to stop attempting to copy spirit arts without proper knowledge of how to use them. Right now, your form of emulating them using spirit mana is largely safe, if only marginally effective at your goal. If you actually succeed at using a Spirit Art correctly, you are likely to cause yourself significant lasting harm.”

I frowned at that. “Why would succeeding be worse? That’s…unintuitive.”

“How much do you know about spirit arts?”

I shrugged. “One of my classes taught bits and pieces about foreign magic. I’ve also read through what I could find in the books I borrowed from Master Constantine. The basics are pretty simple — Spirit Artists on Artinia create dedications, which are segments of their spirit that are ‘dedicated’ to a specific purpose. That purpose is often highly specialized, but has an underlying mana type associated it. Like, if your dedication is ‘preserve me and heal my wounds’, that might be a regeneration-style dedication that utilizes shade as the underlying mana type. From that, you’d get passive regeneration and a limited ability to use shade-style spirit arts from the dedication. Is that all right?”

“Yes, that’s an accurate understanding, although it’s noteworthy that there are some dedications that have more than one mana type associated with them, or a compound mana type that is outside of the standard twelve prime dominions and forty-eight deep dominions. You hit on the most important element right at the start — dedications. Do you know what happens when you try to use a Spirit Art and don’t have the proper dedication for it?”

I shook my head. “I assume it wouldn’t work.”

“That’s one possibility, but it isn’t the worst case. If you actually structure the Spirit Art perfectly, but don’t have a dedication, it will consume a part of your spirit to execute the art. Permanently.”

“W…wait, permanently?” I sputtered. “Why?”

“The spirit isn’t like our essence structures — or, rather, human essence structures, I should say. It’s not designed to be utilized directly for magic. It’s not just a pool of energy — it’s like half-way between that and a physical body. Spirit arts…they’re like taking a piece of that that body and using it as fuel for an effect. And, much like if you just take off a whole limb of your physical body, if you just use up a bit of your spirit with a Spirit Art, it doesn’t know how to recover. Dedications are designed to solve that problem. You’re familiar with Dianis Points?”

“Sure. They’re the parts of the essence structure that regulate mana in the body. They’re also what attunements are built on top of.”

“A good start. They are also what connects your essence self with your other layers of self, through star veins. It’s also important to understand that the other layers of self contain analogous structures — basically, there are star veins and Dianis Points in each layer, but they have slightly different names and functions. Is that clear?”

“Sure. What’s that have to do with…oh. I think I get it. Are you saying that dedications are effectively like attunements, but for the spirit?”

“Technically, they’re more similar to completed Dianis Points used by essence sorcerers, but…for your purposes, yes, you can see them as being similar to attunements. They serve to regulate the use of that part of the spirit. Most importantly, they create a stronger connection between the parts of the spirit, setting up a method for the spirit to repair itself completely if spirit arts are used. There are several more complex elements to this, but the most important thing to understand is that without a dedication, properly executed spirit arts will just take a chunk of your spirit away. With a dedication of the right type, you can use part of your spirit safely, more like mana.”

“But…If it’s so dangerous to use spirit, why would anyone use that over mana?”

“Well, on Artinia, spirit is the foundation of the local magic style. It’s all they’re generally familiar with. As for why it’s set up that way…there are a few reasons why the makers of that continent might have chosen that path. Dedications can be chosen freely by the user, presuming their spirit is strong enough. Artinia has the greatest amount of choice involved in personal magic of any location in the world, at least in theory. In practice, spirit taxes and laws on copying House-specific bloodline arts place considerable restrictions on the capabilities of the general populace…but that’s a lengthy discussion in itself. Aside from the theoretical flexibility if their culture supported that freedom, using spirit arts is actually quite safe as long as you have the right dedication and has fewer side effects than conventional dominion sorcery.”

I nodded. “But…why use it over something like attunements, which also have few side effects?”

“Spirit arts and dedications have existed for thousands of years before the invention of attunements. When the worldmakers forged the world, they each had different ideas on how best to grant magic to the populace, but attunements are modern concept. They don’t exist in significant quantities outside of Kaldwyn. Crystal marks do exist elsewhere, but they’re not nearly as advanced, and function more like conventional dominion sorcery in terms of their toll on the body.”

“…Right. Okay.”

I had to admit, being able to choose your own type of magic was a huge appeal…of course, in practice, I was certain that “choose your own magic” likely meant “choose what your parents or government chose for you”. If I’d been born on Artinia with the same family, I would have undoubtedly ended up “choosing” to be something analogous to a Shaper, or whatever my Artinian father chose…and that might not have been any more freedom than what I ended up with on Kaldwyn.

Was there a better way to handle power distribution, one that would allow true freedom of choice?

…Probably not. Not without setting up a society around it, at least.

That was something I’d have to consider more if I was serious about pursuing my brother’s goals for the Ascension faction.

“You appear to be a bit distracted,” Len noted.

“Sorry. My mind was just wandering to ideas for how to handle the ethical power distribution better.”

“Oh! That’s one of my favorite subjects. I think you’d like the model on Dania — ah, but we’re getting distracted. You wanted to know how to help your sword.”

“Right. Thorn. Do you know what can be done?”

“You’ve already done the most important part by having Mary weaken the seal. It’s possible that the rest will fix itself, eventually.”

“How long is eventually?”

“Unknown. I can attempt some diagnostic magic, but that’s like asking ‘how quickly will this patient recover’. Too many variables for diagnostic magic to easily provide a clear answer for. It’s worth doing, but I won’t be able to give you perfect information.”

I nodded. “Okay. What can I do to accelerate the process?”

“The basic answer is that you were thinking along the right lines with healing Thorn’s spirit, but you don’t have the right tools. Emulating a spirit healing art is a good idea, but that particular art was likely meant to be used for in-combat healing of specific spirit structures. Using it on the sword may not be healing the right targets, especially if Thorn’s connections with his other layers of self have been damaged — that would require a more targeted type of healing magic, or perhaps some form of communication or constellations magic specialized in forming or rebuilding connections. If you’d like, I can begin some diagnostic spells on the sword, but unfortunately, I don’t have the mana to perform them all at once. May I borrow the sword for a time, as Mary did?”

“Of course. I’d be grateful for any help you could provide. Assuming you can figure out the details, do you think you can help Thorn?”

“Perhaps, but it’s unlikely I can handle it directly. It is, however, more likely that I would be able to figure out enough about the core problem to point you toward someone or something that can. Perhaps a safer spell you could repeatedly use to gradually fix the problem, or possibly a relevant gateway crystal.”

“That sounds wonderful, thank you.”

“Excellent. If that’s it for the immediate concerns, then, perhaps we can resume the conversation about ethical methods of magical power distribution over tea?”

I gave Len a genuine smile. “…I think I’d like that very much.”

***

Our discussion was a peaceful one, a much-needed bit of relaxation and philosophical talk after far too much combat and political wrestling. After that, Len took Selys-Lyann to perform her tests.

I wasn’t expecting a straightforward answer, but to my surprise, I got one later in the evening when she arrived at my door to hand it off to me.

“Several layers of the sword are damaged, but the largest issues are on the shade and dream layers,” she explained, holding the sword by the scabbard to return it to me. I took Selys-Lyann and replaced the sword on my belt. “This is likely a consequence of the baseline composition of banishment mana being more harmful to shadow composite mana types than others. All of the layers are healing, but slowly. It could be years before the sword recovers entirely. The spirit layer is healing faster than most, likely both due to your work and because spirit is less vulnerable to banishment than shade and dream.”

I took a breath. “Sounds like I need an expert on shade or dream magic, then? Or both?”

“Both would be ideal, but there are solutions to that.” She adjusted her glasses. “I did some investigating, both for your purposes and my own. My own shrine is, in fact, currently contested and would not be a proper solution to your sword issue, even if it was available.” She sounded a bit sad, perhaps concerned, but continued. “The dream shrine is a poor option, too whimsical and unpredictable to offer a reliable solution. The shade shrine, however…” She gave me a determined nod. “Well, you’re already planning to go there, and there’s a chance it could help.”

“A chance?” I asked.

“With my limited amount of information, I can’t guarantee the shade shrine would be willing or able to do anything. But given that you’re already planning to visit on Miss Callahan’s behalf, provided you do not have another boon you urgently need, it would be worth asking.”

I sighed. “I was thinking about asking the shade shrine to help Sera.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “Another wise thing to ask about, but I think you may be wiser to wait on one of the god beasts for that, given that Seiryu has already played a role in the process of saving her.”

“You think they’ll help?”

“I can’t say for sure. I’ll spend more time looking at Sera’s issues when I have it — her issues are closer to my own area of expertise than Mara’s are, and there’s a higher chance I can do something to help directly.”

I felt a great deal of relief when I heard that. “…Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I don’t think I’ll actually be able to solve it. But I’ll be better for diagnostics, at least.” She shook her head. “Are you ready to go to the shrine?”

I blinked. “Already? Is everything set up?”

“It is.” She pulled a paper out of her bag. “And I have permission to escort you and your team.”

“Huh.” I accepted the papers. I couldn’t read them — they were in Cas. I had to take it on her word that they didn’t say something like, “This is Corin Cadence. Upon reading this message, please murder him immediately. Thanks, Hannah, <3.”

She probably wouldn’t sign the heart, but I didn’t know. I’d seen weirder things in the last few days.

“Thanks. I, uh, probably should have asked this before, but can you afford the mana cost to teleport us back and forth yourself?”

“More or less. I was going to ask you to recharge me with some of your batteries after you’ve finished the shrine, if they haven’t been fully used in the challenges.”

“That should be doable.”

“But don’t save the batteries for that purpose, Corin. Make no mistake — this shrine is dangerous. Not as dangerous as some, but you could still be hurt or killed if you hold back.”

“Understood.” I took a deep breath. “And that won’t be a problem. I’m very done with holding back.”

Chapter XXI – Shades of the Sky

Arriving at the Shade Gateway Shrine was simple, if still a bit harrowing. It wasn’t the first time Len had teleported me across the Unclaimed Lands, and the process was familiar, but the reception at each individual checkpoint made the whole process much more involved. Even as they checked our identification papers when we arrived at each anchor, I kept waiting for something to happen — for some hidden Edrian betrayal to be revealed, or for the supposedly Edrian forces at any given location to turn out to be spies from Dalenos…but nothing like that happened.

Well, at least not that I noticed. If there were Dalenos agents garrisoning any of the Edrian facilities, they didn’t show their hand by attacking us on sight.

My hands were trembling by the time we arrived at our destination…and we hadn’t even started the actual challenge yet.

From Mara’s expression, she seemed uncertain, but I didn’t think she was worrying about the same things that I was. That’s not to say that she wasn’t prepared to fight if we were suddenly ambushed at any of our stops, but she was much more clearly focused on the shrine itself…and whether or not she was making a mistake by challenging one in her present state.

For my part, I suspected we were better prepared for this shrine than most explorers. Mara was still borrowing Bright Reflection, giving her access to a weapon that would be an extremely powerful counter to most forms of shadow monsters and magic. I wasn’t quite as specialized on the weapon side, but I had access to light mana if I was willing to activate that function on my Arbiter attunement through a custom-made level — which, of course, I was planning to do. While the “like deflects like, opposites nullify” was usually the best rule to consider in human dueling, monsters tended to have specific elemental weaknesses — and, in the case of shades, light magic was more effective than what one might expect from just “opposites nullify”.

I still wasn’t sure if I bought into the whole “elemental wheel” design, but I’d seen first-hand that certain elemental attacks were better against specific monster types than others. By the time we arrived at the shrine, I felt well-prepared for what we were likely to face within.

The actual entrance to the shrine was a massive black slab covering a pit in the ground. We wouldn’t be walking in a door for this one, we’d be dropping down into a cavern. One of the few advantages of the current wartime situation was that the whole area around the shrine was set up with resources for expeditions — supply depots, places to store teleportation anchors in relative safety, and healers on standby like one might find in a Soaring Wings facility.

I didn’t actually see any of the signature copper-colored armor of the Soaring Wings — they tended to focus exclusively on spires — but the Edrian military seemed to be serving a similar role here.

“I’ll need to wait outside. As a conjured entity from another Gateway Crystal, I’m not eligible to participate in the challenges,” Len explained with a twinge of sadness in her tone. “On the positive side, that will allow me to rest a bit, so it’ll be easier to transport us back.”

I nodded in understanding. “Thanks, Len. We appreciate you being willing to help with this.”

“Of course. Best of luck in the shrine.”

“You up to holding onto our anchors?” Mara asked Len.

“Our…” I blinked, realizing for the first time that Mara was wearing Sera’s jump bell circlet that I’d made for her. She must have borrowed that as well. “Oh. Yeah. Except, wait, hold on. Maybe we should hold onto these? They’re more like jump bells, we could use them to move around more easily inside.”

“Risk versus reward.” Len nodded. “But, in this case, something we don’t need to stress over balancing. They have extra bells. You can check one out and leave that anchor with me, but keep your own circlet and anchor for the interior.”

“Good call.”

We checked out a pair of return bells, handing off the anchors to Len, then did a quick double-check on our gear.

“What can you tell us about the interior?” I asked Len after we concluded.

“This shrine adapts heavily to the challengers present, so I can’t say much with any certainty. It’s designed for paired challenges — light and dark. Once you climb down,” she gestured at the rope, “you’ll be in the first safe room. You’ll quickly find three doors: one with a white gem, one with a black gem, and a grey door in the center. Typically, you must complete the light room and dark room to unlock the grey door and advance, but there can be exceptions.”

“What sort of exceptions?”

“Certain people,” Len winced, “have been known to brute force their way through the grey door. Or take the door off entirely. Or break the wall next to the door.”

“…You’re talking about Keras, aren’t you?”

She gave a strained smile. “When certain individuals took this action, the shrine took offense, and massively scaled up the difficulty of later challenges. I would not advise taking this route.”

“Noted.” I couldn’t help but smiling at the thought of Keras smashing through the shrine’s walls and walking straight to the end. “Okay. What’s the normal route through the shrine like?”

“The light rooms will generally have obvious puzzles or challenges, whereas the dark rooms focus more on traps and hidden threats. All of the dark rooms are, predictably, cloaked in magical darkness. Conventional light works, and light magic works better. There’s anecdotal evidence that using extremely powerful light magic can cause the shrine to respond by adjusting the difficulty, but there isn’t enough data for anything conclusive.”

“Adjust how?”

“More monsters, deadlier puzzles. The problem is that the shrine already varies from person-to-person, so…” She shook her head. “It’s tough to isolate whether or not that variable is actually what is controlling the difficulty spikes.”

“How bad can it get?”

“The variation seems to be plus or minus about one attunement level from that of the participants, with the number of people involved also being a factor. Most believe the crystal is doing something to detect the total mana of all participants, then using that as a baseline for the monsters it creates. From there, it may scale up further based on performance in challenges or other behavior.”

I took a breath. “Okay. So, we should expect roughly Sunstone-level threats?”

“Plus or minus a level or two, depending on how previous challenges are handled and other possible factors.”

A level or two was a potentially huge swing. I was reasonably confident we could handle a Citrine-level monster or two, but after my experiences with the Emerald Trials, I wasn’t anything close to confident against an Emerald-level monster — especially facing one after a gauntlet of other challenges.

We’d be wise to take steps to try to keep our challenge difficulty low.

“Do the rewards scale with difficulty?” Mara asked, surprising me.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Len replied. “In most shrines, a boon is a boon. There are exceptions, like the Ruin Gateway Shrine, which offers different benefits based on how long you can protect a location in an impossible battle scenario, but it’s rarer.”

I tilted my head to the side, curious. “Why would the Ruin Shrine involve defending a location? Isn’t that thematically opposed to ruin?”

Len reached up and adjusted her glasses. “An excellent question. The scenarios related to the Ruin Shrine are, so far as I’m aware, always about defending against the Sun Eater. Among his many other names, the Sun Eater is called the Shade of Ruin, thus leading to the familiar ‘ruinshade’ names of his summoned minions. Ruin is one of his primary mana types, and thus, his forces represent the ‘ruin’ portion of the challenge. Since the defender always loses, the shrine is representing its concept.”

“I suppose that makes sense. Seems a little…hyper-specific?”

Len nodded fervently. “It is. There’s a theory that it’s an attempt at self-preservation on the part of the ruin crystal. One of the first things the Sun Eater is known to do on invading a planet is destroying or subverting the local gateway crystals. Thus, it’s possible the ruin crystal isn’t just running scenarios arbitrarily — it’s training people for how to resist the Sun Eater, with the hopes that someone will succeed. Or, perhaps, avenge them.”

“Bleak.” I let out a breath.

“Indeed. If history has taught us anything, defeating the Sun Eater will not be possible without an excellent plan, and significant resources to back it. But we’re digressing a bit. There’s another shrine to be dealt with, and more immediately.”

I took a breath. “Right. Shade shrine. Minimal light, then?”

“That’s going to limit our ability to use Bright Reflection,” Mara said with a grimace.

“At least for the early rooms. We save it for the tough challenges, or for emergencies. That make sense to you?”

“…I think I’ll need some other kind of magical light source, then. A weaker one, obviously, but if I’m not using Bright Reflection, I’m going to need my hand free to fight, and…” She grimaced.

“Give me a few minutes.”

I took her borrowed circlet, etched a few runes. I changed one of the existing ones out, too. Then, I charged the runes, which wasn’t hard with all my batteries in my bag. “Super simple light enchantment. Just say ‘lights on’ to turn it on and ‘lights off’ to turn it off. It’ll cast out a beam from the center, kind of like one of those fancy mining hats.”

“I’m not sure mining hats actually work like that, but I get the idea. Thanks.” She put the circlet back on. “How long will it last?”

“About an hour. I can recharge it easily if needed. I also swapped out the original teleportation rune for a dynamic one, so I can make changes between challenges if we run into teleportation restrictions or need to move in unusual ways for a specific challenge. It’s currently set to the same functionality as usual, but it should be easy to modify later. Give me a few minutes to make the same changes to my own?”

She nodded. “Okay, sure.”

I got to work on altering my own circlet while we kept talking.

Mara turned to Len. “So, do we have to do both the light rooms and dark rooms to advance?”

“You do. Well, to do it correctly. Sometimes, you need to complete them within a set time period of one another, so the conventional strategy is to split your team and have half the team handle each side simultaneously.”

Mara and I glanced at each other. Mara looked more nervous than I did. “…So, we’d be on our own.”

“Not necessarily. Some of the rooms merge in the middle. It’s also possible that if one of you finishes a room first, you can backtrack to the center and rush to the other room to help. Some rooms lock people out from helping mid-test, others don’t. There are also strategies built around rushing through both rooms as a team, rather than splitting up, but I’ve been told it leads to a lot of cases where the rooms reset and re-lock the central grey door while you’re moving between them.”

“What about scouting the rooms briefly, coming back to the center right afterward?”

“Inconsistent results. Sometimes the shrine allows it, sometimes it changes the configuration of the rooms on the next visit. The deeper you go, the less likely it seems to be to reset the configuration. Your final challenge will likely remain static, so scouting that may be wise…with the understanding that in some cases, the final challenge will follow you.”

“…Wonderful.” I sighed. “Well, at least we have information ahead of time. Thanks, Len.”

She adjusted her glasses. “You’re more than welcome. Are you certain you’re both up to this?”

Len pointedly didn’t look at Mara when she asked, but the intent was obvious to all of us.

“We can handle it,” I replied, turning to Mara.

She clenched her one remaining fist. “We have to. I’m tired of feeling like this. Being like this. I’ll take whatever risks I need to.”

“Good.” Len reached into a bag at her side, pulling out three vials of red liquid. “Take these. I wish I had more prepared, but…”

I took the vials. “I’m guessing healing potions?”

She nodded. “Nothing as effective as that Goddess’ Tear you’ve been working with, of course, but I do a bit of alchemy here and there. I understand that you already have regeneration items, but these should work faster. Drinking them is the best approach for anything like internal damage, but for surface wounds, pour it on directly.”

“Aren’t these pretty valuable?” Mara raised an eyebrow.

“Your lives are more valuable. I just wish I had more to give you.”

“Thanks. It’s more than enough.” I tucked two potions away in my bag, then handed one to Mara. “I’ll store two in here, since it’s easier to avoid breaking them in a fight that way. Make sense?”

“Yep. I’ll try to keep this one intact.” She slipped the potion into her belt with a nod, then took a deep, steadying breath. “You ready?”

“Give me a few more moments to charge this dynamic rune…make a few tweaks…okay, now.”

“Let’s go.”

Together, Mara and I descended into the dark.

***

We found the first room to be just as Len had described, but somehow, I still found it surprising. Largely in the details that she hadn’t mentioned.

For one thing, it was beautiful.

The room was a rectangle of polished black stone, but each wall was etched with images, depicting strange beasts and ancient warriors. That would have been intriguing enough as it was, but the images had specific accents painted in bright and vivid colors — red eyes here, a gleaming spear there, and…was that some sort of titanic machine?

I frowned as I walked closer to one of the images, blinking at what looked like a colossal suit of armor with some kind of drill for a hand. An image that must have been a thousand or more years old.

Huh. Guess either the shrine has been modernizing, or the ancient gods were more savvy with golem making than I realized.

I could have spent hours just studying those images, trying to figure out the story they told, but Mara stepped closer. “Don’t think we should keep Len waiting, Corin.”

I blinked, remembering that she had to get back to the spire. “Right. Sorry.”

We quickly located the three doors, although they might not have been obvious if we hadn’t been told about them. The three gems were obvious enough — each the size of a fist, and diamond-shaped, embedded straight into the wall at roughly chest-height. The doors were just rough outlines, though, cracks in the walls.

Not dissimilar to how some of the spire rooms work, if you’re supposed to touch the gem to open it. I wonder…

“How are we doing the first split?” Mara asked. “Look inside first?”

I nodded. “Yeah, let’s take a quick glance, see what we can see.”

We opened both of the doors. I held up an arm to shield myself from the sudden brightness when I opened mine. “Light side involves a large circular platform with rotating spheres on it. They’re color coded. Elemental, maybe. Looks like there are a bunch of switches. Think some sections of the floor are set to rotate, maybe, based on the switches? Not sure.”

“Dark room is…well, it’s hard to see. There’s a central road, windy, that’s a little lighter than the surrounding darkness. Think the sides of the road are a pit. Think I can hear monsters in the dark, too. How do you want to do this?”

“I figured I’d take dark,” I told her.

“Since it’s more dangerous, and I’m—”

I turned, surprising myself by putting my hands on her shoulders. She startled, but didn’t pull away.

“Hey. None of that, you hear me? I was going to take the dark room because I have light magic, and I can adjust the amount of it and how I use it based on the configuration of the room. Your circlet and Bright Reflection aren’t as easily adjusted.”

“Oh.” She took a breath. “Thanks. That’s…yeah, okay, that makes good sense.”

“If anything, the more direct challenge is going to be more directly dangerous, since it’s probably supposed to be ‘balanced’ with the hidden threats,” I told her, pulling my hands away. “So, be careful?”

“Yeah, you too.” She nodded. “See you back here?”

“Probably, but if one of us is waiting for more than a minute or two, we should go after the other. We’re supposed to finish the rooms roughly in sync. I don’t know how close the timing is supposed to be, but it’s probably better to go after the other person to help if one of us manages to get back here fast.”

“Got it.” She took a breath, seeming to focus. “Okay. Right. We can do this.”

She was clearly saying that last part to herself, but I still nodded in agreement. “Let’s line up at the doors and count it down?”

“Making it a race, are we?” She gave me a tiny crack of a smile.

Well, if it helps her calm down…

“Not really a race when I have Haste.” I winked at her.

“Ooh. You’re on, buddy. Let’s go.”

We reached out and touched the two crystals. Doors opened.

Light flooded Mara’s doorway. She rushed straight inside.

I took another deep breath, then looked into the room ahead of me. It wasn’t pitch black like I’d expected. Rather, it looked more like nighttime outdoors without any streetlamps, but still a bit of ambient light from the moon overhead. I could make out features, but not a lot at a distance. There was a bit of a haze in the air, too. Mist, or something like it, presumably to scatter directed light spells like I’d been planning to use.

The first non-visual thing that caught my attention, though, was the low growl coming from seemingly everywhere within the room.

Ahh, classic.

A year ago, I might have hesitated to step into a dark room with ambiguous monsters in the shadows.

Now?

The only question was if I was going to finish the puzzle before they learned to run from me.

I didn’t step inside immediately — I was, after all, still me. Instead, I tried to look ahead into the gloom, observing what was ahead.

I’m glad I did.

I’d heard that people generally tended to look forward and down, but not up. I hadn’t actually read any studies on it, but I’d noticed the tendency in myself enough that, when confronted with a challenge, I tried to force myself to glance in each direction before entering into a presumably deadly situation.

I wasn’t always good at remembering that sort of thing. Remembering things like sequences of numbers and rune shapes was easy. Remembering life-preserving habits? Apparently, my mind didn’t think those were a priority.

But on that occasion, I had the presence of mind to tilt my head upward, searching for the source of ambient light or any other puzzle component that might be on the ceiling.

I felt mildly embarrassed when I realized that, in many other circumstances, I would have missed the gigantic, subtly glowing bird of prey.

The bird wasn’t what I’d heard growling. Or, at least I was pretty sure it wasn’t. I didn’t think birds, even those the size of a house, made that kind of noise.

No, whatever had made that noise remained hidden while I noticed the bird. And, unfortunately, the bird noticed me noticing them.

The bird took off upward, out of my line-of-sight. That seemed like it shouldn’t be logistically possible — I wasn’t that far underground, it couldn’t have really been flying overhead at all if we were constrained by ordinary space requirements. So, that implied that this shrine was playing with extra dimensional spaces, and that the rooms could be any sort of arbitrary size.

Lovely. Gigantic room with a giant bird that could strike at any time.

What sort of giant birds are associated with shade?

I wasn’t sure I knew any, or if it even was a shade-associated bird. Giant birds could be a lot of things — a roc, a cockatrice, a barrier eagle. Maybe even a gryphon? I hadn’t studied them a lot, since they didn’t show up often in the serpent spire.

Well, no time to learn like the present, I suppose.

I checked the ground, too, just in case. There was what looked like an actual path in front of me, a lighter shade of grey than the surrounding darkness. I tested it with a jab of Selys-Lyann, finding it solid, and then stepped forward, one foot at a time.

Nothing happened. I walked forward, keeping on the grey trail, and noticed as trees came into view around me as I advanced. More sounds emerged, too, from the evening gloom.

It was a little darker, now, since the bird had fled from sight. Between that and the mist, I could only see clearly a few feet in front of me. Selys-Lyann’s glow helped a bit, but as expected, the moisture in the air seemed to disrupt the light.

The air was growing colder as I advanced, but I didn’t mind. Since bonding to Selys-Lyann, mundane cold didn’t seem to bother me as much. I wasn’t sure if I’d actually acquired any resistance to ice magic or extreme temperatures — that was a test that really should have gone on my list — but either way, the mild chill in the shrine room didn’t inhibit me.

The ground, however, was beginning to.

As I advanced along what I’d considered to be the road, my feet began to sink in just a bit with each step. Not like I was trudging through a bog — just like mud, but my boots came out dry when I took each next step.

Naturally, I bent down to see what was happening after a bit of that. And, equally predictably, that was when the first monster struck.

The horse-sized wolf was near-completely silent, lunging what must have been a dozen feet from the edge of the trees with open jaws, aiming for the back of my neck while I was bent down.

I didn’t hear them coming.

But I did notice when its shadow passed over me, and even that mere moment was enough for me to move.

I acted on instinct, calling on my bond with Selys-Lyann. Ice flashed up from the ground behind me, forming a wall, a shoddy copy of one of Sera’s most commonly used techniques.

The wolf slammed into the ice hard enough to shatter it, but the impact was enough to deflect the jump. It landed with its feet steady on the road, but I was already moving.

Haste.

The wolf was inhaling, misty shadows gathering around their jaws. I didn’t give them a chance to finish whatever breath attack they were going for.

Jump.

I lunged, flicked my sword once, and cut through the wolf’s neck. Ice spread along the wound, causing the wolf to choke. I swung down a second time, and with that, the wolf vanished into nothing.

My jaw tightened as I spun around, seeing more glowing eyes off in the woods. I stared them down until they retreated.

Release Haste.

I cracked my neck, found my way back to the direction I’d been facing, and kept walking.

That wasn’t so bad.

Predictably, that was when I fell into the pit.

I didn’t have time to reflect on the fact that it would have been easy to continue prodding the ground in front of me, like when I’d first entered. I began to plunge down, straight toward the newest light source in the area — a series of person-height white spikes, each about as thick as my right arm.

Jump.

I blasted myself back upward, soaring a dozen feet above the pit, and found no visual difference between the pit area and the road ahead and behind. I briefly contemplated trying to use ice to form a road of my own, but I didn’t have confidence in my ability to control the sword’s ice powers clearly enough to do that. Instead, I simply blasted myself further up and along the road with more transference mana, then flicked a tiny ice shard down and watched it impact solid ground.

Satisfied, I descended.

I didn’t make it to the ground before I heard a loud “caw”. I had, somehow, forgotten to look back up.

The bird didn’t do something pleasantly ordinary like descend from the sky or shoot a hail of sharpened feathers at me. No, it simply got my attention and met my gaze while I descended.

At which point I realized that I was feeling oddly heavy, and that I’d made a terrible mistake.

Spessartine.

My Arbiter attunement flared as I changed my attunement level instantly, which was just a bit faster than my feet were being covered in stone. Then, as I tried unsuccessfully to avoid panic, I began to flood my body with light mana.

Light mana was a classic counter to any type of foreign magic that was influencing the body or mind. Under ideal circumstances, one would have specific spells for whatever they were dealing with, but I was in a bit of a hurry, and petrification wasn’t exactly the type of thing I could ask to slow down for a bit of spell research time.

I hit the ground a moment later, legs already wrapped in stone up to my shins. The jarring impact meant that I fell forward, but I caught myself with my sword, steadying myself just enough to push myself upright as I continued to send light mana downward.

The cockatrice — at least I knew what it was now — didn’t wait to see if my spell would be enough to reverse the effects of its gaze. It descended as I fought the spell, grabbing for my shoulders with talons the size of my entire body.

It was only when it got nearly close enough to grab me that I saw the chain around its neck, holding a comically large black key.

I blasted myself backward with a burst of motion mana, avoiding the talon swipe, and forced myself to look away from my attacker. I knew that if I caught the cockatrice’s gaze again, the petrification spell would likely take hold a second time, and I was lucky to be fighting off the first instance of it. I probably couldn’t handle a second.

Worse, if I saw it closer up, the gaze would likely be stronger. The enshrouding mist and darkness had likely weakened the gaze’s effect.

Probably another factor that makes using light magic a detriment here. If I’d used a powerful light spell and gotten a clearer look at the cockatrice, that gaze might have taken me out immediately.

I briefly debated trying to close my eyes and fight blind, but that was a little too extreme. I didn’t have the training for it.

Instead, as I flew backward, I slashed through the air and pushed transference mana into Selys-Lyann’s blade, sending a cutting wave of ice toward one of the cockatrice’s wings. It swung around rapidly, intercepting the ice wave with a talon and flicking my spell out of the air with a disdainful motion.

Wonderful.

Wing flaps carried the cockatrice back upward, and I had to be cautious to follow the creature’s movement without meeting its eyes.

My light mana was working to undo the petrification spell, and I kicked my legs to try to dislodge some of the stone around them before the cockatrice could descend on me again. I’d acted quickly enough that the petrification hadn’t fully transformed any of me — it had simply saturated my body with stone mana to begin the transformation process. The result was that my body was fighting off foreign mana while a stone shell was forming around it as a secondary effect of the same spell. My light mana was handling the former part, but it wouldn’t do a thing about the latter — at least not right away.

So, I tried to kill two giant birds with one stone, kicking a leg upward and using a blast of transference mana to shatter it, sending a shotgun burst of shattering rocks at the bird. I heard a satisfying cry as the stones impacted, then a whoosh as the bird descended again.

I’d only freed one leg with that blast, and I didn’t have much room to maneuver from side-to-side without stepping off the clearly marked path. I didn’t know what would happen if I stepped into the dark, but I wasn’t in a good place to experiment.

So, instead, I repeated my tactic from the wolf, and focused on Selys-Lyann to raise a wall of ice to stop the cockatrice’s descent.

Even with hollow bones to keep itself aloft, I’d underestimated the bird’s mass. It crashed straight through the wall and slammed into me without stopping, sending me crashing down into the strange road with the force of a train car.

I hit the ground hard, groaning as talons curved around my entire torso. My shield sigils and shrouds had absorbed the vast majority of the force, but the talons curving around my body were within my shrouds now, and my shield sigils were nearly spent.

I’d maintained my grip on my sword, but I didn’t have a good angle to swing it. So, instead, I focused on the circlet around my head. It was in contact with my body already, so I didn’t need to do anything special with mana threads.

Accelerated Computation.

Analyze Attunement Composition.

My circlet wasn’t an attunement, of course, but since I’d changed out the enchantment runes for compound ones, it meant that the sub-glyphs could be edited in the same fashion.

I couldn’t make complex changes in a fraction of a second, but I didn’t need to. All I needed was to remove a targeting function and set a distance.

“Return.”

As the cockatrice’s beak descended toward my chest, I teleported straight forward. Consequently, that put me just above the creature’s back, facing upward.

A disorienting burst of transference mana managed to flip me around mid-air, then I was descending from above a confused cockatrice. Its wings flapped as it sensed something wrong, but it was too late.

I landed on the bird’s back and stabbed straight down.

The cockatrice screeched, trying to take off, and I stabbed downward again and again, ice spreading along the wounds until the creature couldn’t bear the weight. Then, with one final stab, it vanished beneath me.

The chain and key remained…and very nearly vanished as they fell from the disappearing creature’s neck into the darkness beside the road.

I lunged with another burst of transference, grabbing the chain and yanking it back just before I landed on the road. I pitched over backward, unbalanced by one leg that was still covered in stone, and nearly cut myself on my own sword.

Still, I laughed as I landed.

I’d won.

One down, I told myself as I shoved the key and chain into my bag. Two more to go.

The idea that Mara would need help with her own challenge barely even occurred to me—

And I was right.

After I’d finished freeing my remaining leg and trudging back to the entry room, she beamed at me. “What took you so long?”

For the first time in weeks, the expression on her face looked right. That was the Mara that I’d missed.

I found myself smiling right back.

We’ve got this.

Together, we pushed our keys into the door, then stepped into the next room.

Chapter XXII – Shades of the Earth

Mara and I advanced, placing our keys in the door and turning them. This led us into another, near-identical safe room before the next set of challenges.

Once there, we rested. There was no urgency to advance in this shrine, so I made sure to recharge our shield sigils. I also reverted my circlet back to its original return function, but kept a secondary “just teleport straight ahead” function copy in there. I didn’t set an activation word for it, so I’d have to use mana to activate it, but that wasn’t any harder for me at this point. I figured that was better than having to avoid using another word in conversation — the more voice activated items I had, the more likely it was I’d accidentally turn one on at some point.

Neither of us was significantly injured. I had some tears in my shirt from where the cockatrice’s talons had grabbed me, and I’d bruised myself a little when I’d fallen on my back, but nothing serious. My shroud and shields had done their work.

In Mara’s case, she’d ended up with a non-combat puzzle challenge, the only physical threat involving dodging rotating stars while she handled some sort of planetary configuration puzzle. I wasn’t sure what that had to do with the concept of shade — sounded more like a constellations magic thing — but I supposed that not every single puzzle would have obvious thematic components. Even the challenge I’d faced didn’t seem overtly shade-like, aside from the darkness.

Transforming your body is kind of a shade thing, I guess, and a gigantic cockatrice turning you to stone might count. Probably interacts with the shade if it gets far enough to be…set in stone?

Ugh, I’m making puns in my own mind. Maybe I’m more hurt than I realized.

We talked, hydrated, then went to our respective doors.

“You sure you don’t want to switch?” Mara asked. “I don’t mind doing one of the dark ones.”

“Let’s look ahead first, at least.” I opened my door.

This one was a clearer challenge, or at least it appeared to be. The room was dark, of course, and most of the floor was missing. There were translucent crystalline panels set at ground height — and several other heights — around the room. While I watched, some of the panels vanished.

I frowned, briefly turning on the light from my circlet to look more closely ahead. As my light washed over more of the panels, they seemed to melt away into nothing.

I mumbled a curse, then disabled my circlet. Fortunately, most of the panels seemed to rematerialize a few seconds later…then others appeared, and others vanished.

“Platform puzzle with vanishing and reappearing platforms. I think light makes them vanish. Can’t see the key from the entrance,” I explained.

“Mine looks like a racetrack with several monsters already in starting positions,” Mara explained, and I could hear obvious eagerness in her voice.

I laughed. “That sounds like the kind of challenge Keras would love.”

“…Think I’d like it, too,” she admitted.

I thought I was well-suited to a race — even better than Mara, really. Haste was one of my main areas of specialization, and now that I’d started configuring my circlet for more teleportation options, I could do something with that, too.

If it was a sprint, I’d probably be the better candidate, from a practical standpoint. But if it was a distance run, Mara could use enhancement mana to keep herself going at high speed much longer than I could, especially while I was unable to safely use one of my attunements and my transcendence mana. I was running at about half my normal effective mana, whereas she had all of her own available, and enhancement was better for long-distance challenges in general.

None of that took the monsters into account, but without full descriptions of what they were, I didn’t know who’d be a better match for them.

“Go for it. I’m heading into mine,” I told her.

“See you after the finish line, then.” She gave me a wink.

She ran into her room. I couldn’t see more than that from my position, but I heard what sounded like a distant announcer’s voice.

That does sound kind of fun, I admitted to myself. Maybe I’ll try it later.

I turned to my own chamber, but didn’t enter right away. Instead, I watched the timing of the appearing and disappearing pieces, trying to memorize the initial pattern and find anything unusual.

There. That tile doesn’t vanish.

I had a target. It was more likely a mid-way stopping point than the end, but it would work.

I dropped my anchor just outside the room, just in case I needed to retreat, then took a running leap toward the first platform — or, rather, where it would be as I descended from the apex of my jump.

I hit the tile as it appeared, then jumped again immediately, wheeling my hands for balance. The disappearing panels were slicker than I expected, like a tile floor that had just been mopped. I barely managed to keep myself from sliding off.

I made it three more tiles before I heard a whistling in the air. I reached out instinctively and caught an arrow a fraction of a second before it pierced my chest.

Phew. That was—

The tile beneath me vanished ahead of schedule.

I was nothing if not prepared.

Jump.

A surge of essence blasted me forward and up. My feet clipped the next tile just as it disappeared. I used a few more Jumps in rapid succession, depleting my ring’s energy and then using my own mana, before I finally landed about three platforms ahead of where I’d been planning to be.

I didn’t have time to consider why the pattern had changed. Not normally, at least.

Accelerated Computation.

I was still leery about abusing mental magic of any kind, but at this moment, analyzing the situation was too important.

The world around me didn’t flow in slow motion with Accelerated Computation, but my thoughts flew faster than the bolt I was now able to perceive flashing across the darkness.

Estimated trajectory…impact in…

I blasted the bolt out of the air with a burst of transference, watching the tiles around me, rapidly noting that different ones were visible than I’d expected at this stage.

Either I changed the pattern, or it changes on its own after a certain time. I didn’t observe it from very long in the doorway — it could be natural. But if I caused it…

Another part of my mind processed that my tile was about to vanish. I jumped forward, landing on the next.

It’ll be dangerous to advance if the pattern keeps shifting. Or, at a minimum, mana intensive. I’ve only spent about 18 mana so far in this room, but it looks like it goes on a long way, and if we account for the mana in my ring—

No, wait. I’m overthinking this as usual. I have batteries.

I jumped again as the tile faded beneath me, then pulled a transference battery out and held it in my hand as I jumped to the next tile. Then, with a thin strand of mana, I recharged my ring.

With that recharged and the battery still in hand, I used a strategy that noted swordmaster Keras Selyrian would be proud of —

I dismissed Accelerated Computation, ignored the intended solution entirely, and blasted myself across the room without any regard to the intended pattern.

That worked right up until I hit the invisible wall.

My shrouds cushioned the impact, but since I’d caused it myself, they weren’t as effective.

I winced at the impact, falling several feet before I blasted myself backward to land on a tile, then scanned until I found the single panel that had remained in place without ever vanishing. I blasted myself over to it with more transference and heard a click as I landed.

The air shimmered. A massive cube appeared in the sky ahead. It looked solid, but I made a guess that one of the sides of the cube on the opposite side from my vantage point would be open and hold the key. I heard a ticking sound, too, like a countdown timer.

Several new platforms appeared, forming a new path straight from the stable platform to the box.

Okay, the wall I hit was the area boundary, and I’m supposed to jump across these before the time is up. That seems simple—

The cube began to float up and down, and simultaneously several razor-sharp spinning blades appeared in the air around it, swaying back and forth. The circular blades were huge, larger than the platforms, and looked like they had razor sharp edges. Most were strictly horizontal, paralleling the platforms, but there were some vertical ones for variety.

Right, ancient autonomous circular saws. That seems like a thing this dungeon should have.

I sighed heavily, braced, and watched the pattern again while I recharged my ring. After about a minute, the cube vanished alongside the platforms and spinning blades. The ticking stopped.

I nodded to myself, then hopped. I heard a click, then the cube and its compatriots reappeared.

Okay, so this tile starts a timer, and it can be reset after the timer expires. Simple enough. I have about a minute to make it to the goal, which is presumably the cube.

Nothing seems to be physically stopping me from using the ring or my mana to jump ahead faster, but…

Detect Aura.

I saw glimmering fields in the air now. Subtle ones — the invisible wall, and several similar fields around where the platforms floated.

More area boundaries, effectively. Things that would punish me from, say, getting to a platform just beneath the cube and blasting myself straight up. If I tried that, I’d hit an invisible ceiling, then one of the saw blades would likely catch me on the way back down.

Glad Mara didn’t try this with her levitation boots. It’s built to hurt people using that strategy. My Ring of Jumping is weirder, at least, so the danger doesn’t counter it as well. I have more maneuverability than someone who is levitating, but the ring moves me so quickly that I can’t course correct easily, and impacts will hit me hard.

The puzzle expired. Another breath, another reset. I watched the timing.

Then, one more reset, and I thought I had the timing and distance down.

Accelerated Computation.

Distance between apex of cube and panel, 4.8 meters…

A minor change here, an adjustment there…

I tapped my foot. The puzzle reset.

Now.

I jumped ahead, ducked a saw blade, then jumped again. Three more jumps. I blasted another saw blade out of the way, jumped, then glanced up.

I could see the open side of the cube and the key within.

Good.

A flare of mana into my circlet and I teleported straight past the invisible ceiling. I grabbed the key with forty-five seconds left.

“Return.”

I reappeared next to my anchor, key in hand and a grin on my face.

Mara was already standing there, a chunk of her hair missing and three claw marks on her face.

“So, about that race,” Mara said, her hands empty. “I think I need to give it another go.”

By the time she’d finished her next attempt and succeeded, my key had vanished. I grumbled a little bit, but went straight back. It would be easier the second time, now that I knew the trick, right?

Except on my second attempt, my short-range teleport to skip the invisible barrier didn’t work. A saw blade nearly cut me in half. Fortunately, the shrine still let me teleport back out of the room.

That time, Mara’s key disappeared while she waited for me to try it again.

Eventually, we sat and rested, then tried it all again.

Jump.

Jump.

And…

My hand snagged the key again.

I didn’t bother teleporting back this time. If the shrine was watching and making changes, there was a chance it would punish me for that.

Instead, I landed on top of the center of a floating saw blade — it was surprisingly sturdy — and used transference to push it all the way back to the entrance.

From there, I hopped back down, key in hand.

Mara had succeeded on that attempt as well. We hastily pushed our keys into the door together, then moved on, and took another much-needed break.

After that, I paused, thought back to my first trip to the transcendence shrine, and the memories of previous people using it.

I’ve been remiss, forgetting the lessons of my teachers.

I went back to the doorway to the platform room, used transference to pull one of the spinning sawblades toward me. Then, I strapped a void emitter to it to turn it off, and shoved it straight into my bag of holding.

Thanks, Kester and Lars, for the inspiration.

You never knew when a giant enchanted circular saw might come in handy.

***

Another brief break in the next safe room. More recharging items. Then, it was time for room number three for each of us.

“What’ve you got?” I asked to Mara as we each opened our door.

“Pure white room. White tile floor, white walls. Some glowing crystals in the ceiling to keep it lit, I guess. Think I might see another door toward the back? Seeing that, I get the feeling the entrance door is going to close behind me.”

“Tough to see mine, it’s even darker than the last room. Think there are places to light torches on some of the walls, maybe?” I let my circlet’s light shine into the room just a bit, but it barely helped. I got a better look at one of the unlit torches, at least, but no sign of the challenges themselves. Either we needed something brighter, or I’d be going in practically blind. “Think it’s worth bringing Bright Reflection in here to get a better look?”

“Leanin’ against it. Think trying to make it that bright is a trap.”

“I could try lighting a torch from the entrance, before I walk in?” I asked.

Mara shook her head. “Think these shrines usually respond badly to people trying to complete the rooms from outside, from what I’ve heard.”

I nodded. “Okay. Off we go, then?”

Mara gave me a cheerful wave. “See you soon.”

Stepping into a dark room was familiar at this point. This one, however, was simply too dark for me to function. The complete lack of visibility was too extreme, so I activated the front-facing light enchantment on my circlet once I was inside.

As expected, the darkness in the room was magical in nature and resisted the spell; I could only see reliably a few feet in front of me. There wasn’t much to look at within that short range, save plain black brick floors, unlit torches on a couple nearby walls, and a perfect duplicate of myself.

Oh, it’s this one. How nostalgic.

Unlike the very first copy of myself I’d fought, this shade wasn’t a mass of vaguely humanoid shadows — he looked very much like a flesh-and-blood copy of myself, but with a hint of shadow playing across his whole body, and a slight translucency to his overall appearance. His features were clear and accurate, up to and including the visible barriers from his shield sigils and the glistening ice around the saber he held in his right hand.

Shade-Corin lunged right at me, thrusting his phantasmal copy of Selys-Lyann at my chest. I parried easily, watching as the light radiating from my attunement washed over my duplicate, causing his shadowy body to hiss and smoke even from brief exposure.

The shade darted back into the shadows for obvious reasons, and I wasted no time spinning in his direction and calling a bolt of light with my other hand to hurl it straight at where he’d retreated.

I hadn’t expected to obliterate him in a single strike, but if I’m being honest, I wasn’t expecting a shade of Mara to punch the blast of light out of existence, either.

Wait, what?

I barely had time to process before she was practically on top of me, sweeping an enhancement-imbued fist directly at my face. I side-stepped it and swept at her gut, hoping the spirit-imbued blade would tear straight through her, but there was no such luck — she brought a knee up immediately, smashing into the flat of my saber and knocking it out of position, then jabbed at my ribs.

I danced backward, only for a blast of transference mana to slam into me from an attacker that was unseen, but still obvious enough for me to process as the force hurled me straight into a wall.

I wasn’t fighting a single shapeshifting shade or a charade this time. I’d handled those types of fights before, both in my Judgment and in the trip to Vanreach. I could have handled another mediocre Corin-copy without a sweat, especially with my elemental advantages and their inability to copy my items completely.

Of course, I shouldn’t have expected a fight in a gateway shrine to be that simple.

Nor should I have expected something as fun and balanced as a simple two-versus-one against weaker copies — that would have been almost fair, after all.

As I cracked into the wall and felt a surge of pain and disorientation on impact, I barely noticed the distortion in front of me — followed by a “click”.

I ducked just before Jin’s shade put a bullet into the wall right where my head had been a moment earlier, then stumbled as a gust of wind picked me up and hurled me straight into a newly manifested wall of ice in a darker section of the room.

The ice cracked when I hit it, but I’d braced myself better for this impact. I didn’t let it stun me this time. I focused on my right hand, activating a stronger light spell to get a better look at the room — and regretted it almost at once.

My own shadow calmly stepped in front of me, ringed by his friends, and without pausing for a moment, said, “Corin Cadence protocols.”

Mara’s shadow jumped in front of him just as I hurled a blast of my own transference mana at him, tearing through my attack with a rapidly manifested blade of enhancement mana. I spun just in time to slice through a blast of lightning from shade-Patrick on my right, which left me open to a rain of icy spikes from shade-Sera, now flying above me and to the left. Fortunately, my shield sigils and shrouds held against the assault, but I couldn’t hope to maintain my defense against a copy of my entire academy team for long.

Even as I poured a hint of mana into my shield sigil to reinforce it briefly against shade-Sera’s assault, shade-Mara was closing into melee range, and shade-Jin — still barely a blur, concealed with a reasonable facsimile of a low-level camouflage spell — was circling behind to get in a shot with his revolver.

Haste.

I shot forward, running at an angle and ducking under Mara’s answering haymaker, then jumped straight over a blast of lightning from shade-Patrick. Shade-Sera answered with a silent variation on Permafrost Cascade raining shards of ice from above me, but I’d expected something similar, and I hurled a rapid burst of transference straight into the ice, pelting her with icy shards from her own attack. I didn’t slow down to see if I’d dealt her any damage — I rushed straight for my main target.

Myself.

Jump.

I activated my ring, sending myself forward and sideways in a burst a moment before a gunshot rang out in the air. As the ring carried me forward, I swung Selys-Lyann horizontally and sent a continuous charge of transference through the hilt and into the blade. The result was a long, trailing variant on my classic sword shockwave, a tidal wave of frozen spirit mana that lashed out at my duplicate. Even if he’d emulated my barriers, being directly hit by an attack of that magnitude would cause serious harm.

So, naturally, he blasted himself straight over it, answering by lifting his own copy of the sword with a wreath of shadows trailing from the blade in an elementally shifted variant on the same technique.

Got you.

I punched outward, sending a burst of focused light right at his chest. Light-based attacks were as fast as they came, almost impossible to dodge at close range, let alone in the air—

But my shade’s eyes flashed purple for just an instant, then he was flying off to the side, just barely far enough that my line of light mana breezed harmlessly past him.

A smirk crossed his face.

Was that Accelerated Computation? He can do that?

And…was…my face always that punchable?

Fortunately, I didn’t have much time to process that before the next barrage of attacks came. The air behind me exploded as shade-Patrick lobbed a fireball, the detonation’s force carrying me straight into one of shade-Mara’s kicks. The force of the blow doubled me over, no-doubt carrying the strength of enhancement mana pumping through her body and tearing through my shrouds. My layered shield sigils dampened the force, as did my scale mail hidden beneath my shirt, but the kick was still enough to stagger me.

I barely managed to raise my left arm in panic as I saw a gun out of the corner of my eye — then there was a crack and I felt the shroud-wrapped bullet pierce into my wrist.

A combination of adrenaline and the pain-dulling effects of my regeneration kept me functional, but even then, being shot was not a pleasant experience. Fortunately, the bullet itself was formed from mana, not a conventional round — and that meant that the light mana that I was still sending out through my body both weakened the bullet before impact and burned the remainder away shortly after it impacted my body.

That, however, still left a bleeding bullet hole in my left wrist.

I hissed and took a step backward, suppressing the urge to scream, then spun and cleaved through another fireball from shade-Patrick. In a fit of anger and panic, I sent an icy slash at him and watched as the projectile cleaved straight through his attempt to counter it with another burst of fire—

It might have cleaved right through him if shade-Mara hadn’t jumped in the way, slamming a forearm down on the wave of ice and fracturing it in mid-air.

It was at that point that I realized I had two major problems.

One, I’d gone for the wrong target for the start.

In ordinary circumstances, it was a classic strategy to go for support casters first when fighting a group — healers, people with beneficial spells, that sort of thing. In this circumstance, shade-Corin was the defensive support caster of the group, much as I was for my own team.

The problem, of course, was that shade-Corin — much like me — was a lot more than that. With the ability to emulate transference mana, Accelerated Computation, and who knows what else, he was fast and maneuverable…and even if I did hit him, his copies of my equipment would likely provide him with superior defense to anyone aside from Mara.

…And even if I did hurt him, he very likely had a copy of my own regeneration. Maybe even something stronger, given that shade was his primary mana type.

If he’d been alone, or even paired with just Mara, maybe I would have had a chance — but when I’d realized I was fighting my whole team, I should have swapped to focusing on someone with softer defenses immediately. The shades of Patrick or Sera were the most likely targets, especially if their shades reflected having injuries like the real ones did.

But that brought me to the second realization —

Even if I’d realized that from the start, I had practically no chance of beating a copy of my entire team on my own.

From the way they were fighting, I suspected that the copies were a bit weaker than the real thing in every respect. Maybe a quarter slower, weaker, and less durable, and an even greater loss in efficacy in terms of their magical item abilities.

That absolutely was not enough to compensate for a five-versus-one situation.

The end result was utterly one-sided. Even as I charged for shade-Patrick in a desperate gamble to help even the odds, a patch of near-invisible ice formed right in front of me, courtesy of shade-Sera. I slid on the ice rather than slipping, but it still threw me off-balance, which allowed shade-Patrick to hurl me to the side with a conjured gust of wind. Again, I slammed into a wall, this time face-first.

I slumped to the ground, allowing a blast of transference from shade-Corin to crack into the wall above me, then groaned and said a word I’d been hoping to avoid:

“Return.”

With a brief flash, I found myself standing just outside the room, next to my anchor.

I sat down, breathing deeply, as I reached into my dimensional bag for a healing potion and a set of bandages.

Ow. Ow. Ow.

Being shot was one of my least favorite experiences, even with the regeneration effects from my sigils dulling it. Fortunately, as I inspected the injury and performed some diagnostic spells, it didn’t look like the bullet had punctured anything critical — it had just gone straight through.

I didn’t try to move that hand right away. I’d wait on the healing for a while before that. My fingertips were tingling, and I didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.

Better to just bind it and wait a while.

I was barely done wrapping my wound when an even-more-bloodied Mara appeared at her own teleportation anchor, stumbled backward a step, then spat blood onto the stones.

“Vek. That was impossible.” She dropped onto the floor in front of me, winced, and then carefully set down Bright Reflection against the nearby wall. After that, she reached for the spool of bandages I’d left on the floor. “Don’t think I’ve ever been nearly torn in half before. Wouldn’t recommend it.” She coughed again. “Failed out, obviously. You?”

“Oh, yeah. Failed hard. Five-on-one. Copies of our whole midterms-team. What’d you get?”

“Oh, mine was much more reasonable. Just one Mizuchi.”

“…Oof.” I winced, passing her the half-empty healing potion using my good hand. She winced, grabbing it with her good hand, then liberally slathered it on what now were obviously claw marks. Most of it made it to the injuries, but she hissed as she spilled some on the floor. “I don’t suppose you could…”

I deliberately didn’t comment on the hesitation in her expression. “Yeah, of course. Might need your help with checking my back, too.”

We spent some time just applying healing potions and bandages to each other’s wounds, then both leaned against the wall to rest, taking deep breaths and processing.

“Don’t think I’ve lost a fight that badly in quite a while,” I started.

She raised her right hand. “…A little more recent for me.”

I winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“You’re fine. We’re in a deathtrap, Corin. Can’t treat me like porcelain.”

I nodded hastily. “Right. Sor…strategy. Strategy, then?”

“Right.” She exhaled another deep breath, wincing and feeling at her ribs. “We could swap rooms.”

“…Not a bad plan. Might be a test to see if we’re willing to change places — that makes a lot of sense for a shade shrine, thematically. But if the rooms remain the same…” I shook my head. “How strong was this Mizuchi?”

“Nowhere near like the original, but I still didn’t stand a chance. If I had to guess, she was probably weaker than even the depowered Mizuchi you fought in the Serpent Spire, but stronger than Satsuki.”

I sucked in a breath. Stronger than Satsuki was still bad news. I wasn’t confident I could beat her in a serious fight, even though she was younger than we were. “…Probably not beating shade Mizuchi myself, either, then. Not easily, at least.” I took a breath, considering. “Did you try light mana?”

“Obviously. She blocked Bright Reflection with her arm.”

“…So much for dispelling shades in a single strike.” I grimaced. “Must be made of a more complex composite. Any signs of damage from the hit, at least?”

“The impact location smoked a little, but nothing that looked serious. If I’m honest, my swing barely made it through her shrouds. Think she had a six-layer shroud like the real one.”

I blinked. “That’s…just not even close to fair.”

“No kidding. Not like your fight sounded much easier. Maybe they’re supposed to be puzzles?”

“Or we’re supposed to lose. Don’t know.” I shook my head. “There were unlit torches on the wall in my room. Might be a classic ‘light all the torches to win’ thing.”

“Seems too simple.”

I shrugged. “Might be, might not be. My opponents were smart. Like, smart enough to talk smart. If I tried to light the torches, they might just extinguish them.”

“…Yeah, Mizuchi talked, too. She…wasn’t nice.”

“You good?”

“Yeah.” Mara nodded. “Can’t let something that light bother me.” She chuckled. “Even if it’s a ‘light the torches’ gimmick for your room, my room was empty. Mizuchi appeared after the door shut, but I’m pretty sure there weren’t any torches on the walls.”

“Makes sense. Maybe you need to…I don’t know, shoot out the lights?”

She seemed to ponder that. “Crystals in the ceiling. Yeah, that’s…plausible, I guess.”

“But if it doesn’t work, you’re stuck fighting Mizuchi in the dark.” I shook my head. “That’s a pretty big risk.”

“Yeah, it is…hm. You got the midterm team. I got Mizuchi. They’re clearly drawing from our memories. How can we use that?”

“…Think about something else when we go in, maybe? Or…maybe we’re supposed to use relevant strategies from those times in our lives?”

“Both plausible, but what would…oh.” She grinned. “We might not be able to handle these on our own, but in the midterm, for the hardest challenges, we didn’t have to.”

“…You broke through the wall between rooms after you fought the dragon.” I thought back to my fight — shade-Corin had splintered one of the walls with a transference blast, which wasn’t a particularly strong attack. Were the interior walls that separated the chambers designed to be weaker? Weak enough that we could combine our efforts?

“Right. Maybe if we both went in at the same time, we could burst through the walls and unite, then handle everything together?”

I nodded. “…Maybe. It’d be better than trying to go solo if it worked, but we’d still have six opponents, we’d just be able to utilize strategies more easily. I think we’d probably still lose. Even the Mizuchi copy alone might be too much.”

“Or just, you know, rush through the central hall between the rooms to the next area. Which is presumably the crystal.”

“It could work. Skip the challenges entirely.” I frowned. “Then again, Len did warn us against Keras-style problem solving. What if one of us goes in carrying a teleportation anchor, then the other teleports in? That’s not far off from our bell strategies in the midterms.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Corin. You’re doing a Corin. We don’t need a magic solution if we want to double up. We could just walk in the same door at the same time. It’d be a tight squeeze, but I don’t think the door would close on top of us or anything.”

I blinked. “Huh. I guess we could. Fight one side, then rush to the other before the keys vanish?”

“Could work. How strong were the copies of us?”

“Not full strength, but it’s still two against five. I don’t like the idea of a straight fight against those numbers.”

“I could keep them busy while you light the torches?” she asked.

“Maybe. We’ll have to see how they react to Bright Reflection. Might make the whole place stronger. Unless you want to sheath the sword?”

She shook her head. “Assuming this is the last challenge, I think it’s the time to use the sword.”

“Agreed.” I nodded. “Okay. We try to light the torches, hope that gets us the key in the first room. If not, we can see if Bright Reflection is able to hurt our shade copies, since they’re presumably much weaker than Mizuchi…which still leaves Mizuchi. How would we—oh.” I laughed. “We might not have to beat her. If we’re dealing with things based on our memories…”

“…All you’d have to do is the same thing you did in the spire. Offensive teleportation. Use the anchor on her, rather on us. Think you can do it?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“…And the only consequence if you fail is an angry serpent close enough to touch.” Mara gave me a sly look. “Could be worse. At least Satuski isn’t here to get jealous.”

“Don’t tempt fate, Mara. My love life is dangerous enough as it is.”

***

Mara and I took another hour to rest. We discussed small details about each room — for example, her room was laid out more like a spire interior, and it wasn’t shrouded in complete darkness like mine was. We talked about what we’d seen from each combatant.

There were advantages we had above and beyond our slightly superior capabilities compared to any given copy of one of our group members. Our equipment, for example, was likely superior to any duplicates created by the shrine. Bright Reflection was the clearest example of that, but it would be applicable to any of our other equipment, too. I didn’t think that my counterpart would be willing or able to execute some of the equipment-related tricks that I could.

We discussed these briefly and double checked to make certain we were as prepared as possible. We put up some spells in advance — Haste for me, a general physical enhancement spell for Mara — then opened the door.

A half-dozen different attacks surged through the doorway before it had even finished opening.

We reacted almost immediately, jumping into the room on either side of the door. Neither of us was faster than a bullet, though. Not yet.

Mara was in front of me. This time, she got shot. But unlike me, she had an enhancement-specialized shroud — when Jin’s bullet hit her, it didn’t pierce through. He used the same mana type to wrap around his bullets, which saved her — his bullet glanced off as the same element deflected itself.

None of the other attacks landed. Not on us, anyway.

Sera’s ice hit the wall behind us and began to spread, then somehow fired icicles across the entire room from the area of impact. Even having dived to the sides of the door, we weren’t safe from that.

And I’d never seen that spell before.

I was already holding my fire sword, Scald, with the intention of using it to light the torches, so I had a viable counter available. As soon as icicles shot at me, I slashed them apart with flaming swings.

When Mara attempted the same with Bright Reflection, the ice didn’t shatter or glance aside the way I would have expected — instead, the icicles that hit the blade began to freeze over it and spread.

My eyes widened as I processed what was happening. I started to say something, but another voice, calmer and better prepared, spoke first.

“Corin Cadence Protocols. Marissa Callahan Protocols. Pursue for Round Two.”

My voice.

I lunged, but not at him.

Mara blinked as she saw my sword swinging toward hers — then she understood. We let our swords clash, the flames from Scald briefly surging as I sent a flicker of transference across my blade. Ice melted, and I swung around to blast another surge of flame toward the wall, which was still firing ice spikes at us.

“Get the door!” I told her, but it was too late —

The other Mara was charging through, a black-bladed sword in her hand, and a burst of ice was freezing the top of the door closed.

I really shouldn’t have planned around my room resetting after I’d left.

Even in Valia, where my profession was nowhere near as popular, people knew not to go against an entire team with an Enchanter and ample prep time. Especially when that Enchanter had even less of a self-preservation instinct than various Corin Cadences usually did.

As if to highlight that fact, Shade Mara hurled a rune-etched cylinder straight at me. I recognized the runes on the surface even at a glance — it was a classic mana battery.

One with the very necessary safety mechanisms, like a capacity rune, taken off.

“Bomb!” I shouted.

My Mara wisely withdrew.

I hurled a blast of transference at the container — and Shade Mara jumped in the path of the blast, her shroud flaring with enhancement to neutralize my attack. The force of my spell still knocked her back, even with the shroud, but that only helped knock her closer to the doorway.

That made it easier for her to jump backward into her room when the cylinder began to leak black energy into the air, and—

Accelerated Computation.

I lashed out with a mana thread, calculating the exact trajectory, and connected to it.

Analyze Attunement Composition—

I was too slow.

The mana battery cracked…and everything went black.

…Not in a dramatic scene change sort of way. Shade Corin, it seemed, had hit us with a void mana bomb.

As my sight faded, I felt a much more concerning effect. My shields failed. My sword’s flames went out. My ring of jumping felt cool against my finger, utterly inert.

My equipment was stronger than he could make, but as I’d been told numerous times, attacking was easier than defending. Shade Corin had, with a single move, disabled very nearly every item I was wearing.

I couldn’t see, but since the bag at my side hadn’t exploded and I wasn’t showered in falling swords, presumably my storage items had remained stable. That didn’t mean they were actually usable, but they weren’t completely destroyed, either.

They’d be weaker, at a minimum, maybe enough that I wouldn’t be able to reach into them. I wasn’t sure if anything Mara had been carrying survived—

At least, not for the half-second before a glowing sword cleaved the darkness out of the air.

“Not nice,” she said, stepping forward, cracking her neck, her blade blazing in her hand. “Kind of a cheap trick, taking out most of our gear like that, Other Corin.”

“He was going to do the same thing!” Shade Corin yelled from somewhere in the dark room ahead of us.

Mara stalked forward. “And how would you know?”

Her counterpart met her with a sword of shadow, blocking the doorway.

“Because,” Other Corin shouted, “Jin Dalen is right behind you.”

I heard a click. I didn’t hesitate — I just hurled a blast of transference mana straight into where Shade Jin was standing behind Mara, revolver poised to fire.

She’d blocked his bullet with a shroud earlier, but that wouldn’t have done a thing with Jin being classic Jin and pushing the barrel of his gun right through that shroud to shoot her from the inside.

My blast caught his right arm and sent his aim askew, sending his bullet into the ceiling, rather than Mara. The sound of the gun going off right behind her made Mara jump, understandably, but that gave Shade Mara an opening to charge. Her sword swept down in a cleaving arc, a wave of blackness following behind it.

Mara fumbled her parry, barely maintaining her awkward off-handed grip, but managed a quick kick to send her opponent flying backward.

Fortunately, her opponent wasn’t a much better swordsman than she was. Shade Mara was also missing a hand, and when she tried to swing while flying backward, she missed entirely.

That bought Mara a bit of space, but the doorway was clear now. A blast of lightning flashed through the doorframe. Mara slapped it with Bright Reflection, sending the bolt back toward Shade Patrick, but he simply gestured and caused the bolt to vanish in mid-air.

I charged Jin as he repositioned for another shot at Mara from behind, so he aimed at me instead.

Finger closing around trigger in 0.08 seconds, Accelerated Computation helpfully reported.

That was enough time.

Shroud Burst.

A blast of transference flashed from my shroud just as he fired. It didn’t deflect the bullet entirely, but it ate the layer of enhancement around it and pushed the projectile off-course. It still passed through my shirt, but hit the armor beneath and failed to pierce through the enchanted mail. I hadn’t been able to see it beneath my clothes, but the void bomb hadn’t been strong enough to disable the Citrine-level armored shirt — at least, not after the bomb had to go through two shrouds and two shields to get to it.

It wasn’t as effective at stopping the second bullet, however. Or the third.

I took one bullet to the left arm. The third missed. Firing, even at close range, was hard.

Then I was in melee range and Scald flashed down, glancing off Jin’s own shield sigils.

He grinned that wonderful and horrible grin of his at me, hopping back to aim again. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another attack coming — a blast of ice — and hurled my no-longer-flaming sword straight at it, catching Shade Sera’s attack in mid-air.

As Scald fell in a block of ice, I hit a symbol on my sword belt and pressed mana into it.

And, just as I’d hoped, Keras’ gift worked even in the direst of situations.

Selys-Lyann might have been the obvious choice in terms of power, but it wouldn’t change the nature of the fight. With the spreading ice attacks that Sera was throwing, I’d quickly understood what was happening—

They were outperforming us on teamwork.

Their Corin had given Selys-Lyann to Sera, and with her existing ice powers, she was nightmarishly effective at using it.

Even as I stopped one blast of ice with my sword’s sacrifice, she was readying another. Mara swept her sword in Shade Sera’s direction, sending a cutting wave of light toward her, but Shade Mara intercepted it. We were making zero progress, and they were wearing us down.

My Selys-Lyann couldn’t reverse a war of attrition. For that, I needed Shroudstealer.

The mana-stealing sword appeared just in front of my hand. Jin’s expression showed a hint of confusion as he saw it, but he still raised his gun to fire again.

Jump.

My ring was still inert, but I was thinking clearer now that I had a plan, and I did what I should have done when he’d first aimed at me — I got out of the way faster than he could move, blasting myself to the side with my own transference mana. Then, as he wheeled to reposition, I cast the same spell again and surged behind him, swinging the sword too quickly for him to respond.

His shields cracked. Mine turned back on.

He jumped backward, managing a single shot, but he hadn’t had time to charge the bullet with his own shroud. It cracked harmlessly off my newly regenerating barriers, then I’d closed in on him.

“Sorry.”

I swept my sword through his barriers and shroud, straight across his chest.

I was surprised by the amount of blood as he dropped.

“Jin!”

It was strange hearing my own agonized scream, coming from somewhere else.

It was even stranger to think that I might have actually had such an extreme reaction, after everything Jin and I had been through. After everything he’d done.

I wasn’t sure if I would have reacted the same way. I didn’t know if the copies had memories quite like ours — we hadn’t talked through this in the same way that I’d tried to with the copy of Keras in the transcendence shrine.

But what I did know was that the reaction sounded real. Genuine.

And as monstrous as it felt to do so, I could exploit that.

My sword went to the downed Jin’s throat. “Weapons down or he dies.”

The shades hesitated.

And, it turns out that even if shrine copies of people aren’t generally built to have the same self-preservation instincts that the real versions of us do, they don’t have the same limitations toward their feelings for others.

I heard, then saw, a copy of Shroudstealer fall to the floor.

Shade Patrick was unarmed. He simply put his hands up.

Shade Sera, holding her copy of Selys-Lyann, hesitated. “What will you do if we surrender?”

“We can very slowly swap positions. You can come get Jin, we’ll get into your room to finish our puzzle. We continue through the shrine, you can leave.”

Shade Corin glanced at Sera. “He’s breathing. I can stabilize him, teleport out, we can reset the shrine…”

“Don’t think we can,” Shade Sera whispered.

Shade Corin’s eyes widened just a little as he seemed to process that. “…Oh.”

He looked at me. I looked back to him.

Shade Corin’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “The exit is in your direction, isn’t it?”

I nodded. His expression shifted, and I could see that he understood the implication.

“I’m going to cast a quick detection spell. Nothing harmful,” Shade Corin said.

I nodded, watching him carefully as his expression sank. “How long have you known?” he asked Shade Sera.

“Not until after he left the room the first time. Gave me a minute to think, try to talk to Seiryu. My memories told me we were in a shrine, but I couldn’t remember how we’d gotten here or why. I couldn’t feel my connection to Seiryu at all.”

“Wait, hold on. You’re saying we’re the fake ones? Could have told the rest of us,” Shade Mara groaned.

“I feel like if the fact that you’re using a shadow sword instead of a light sword didn’t give it away, you might not have been too receptive,” Mara told her counterpart.

“What, no, I…” Shade Mara stared at the sword in her hand. “…Huh. I don’t know how I didn’t see that.”

“Pretty sure we’re designed not to notice things like that, unless someone points it out,” Shade Corin said. “Either way, our friend needs us. I think we can safely surrender at this point, if you’ll let us through?” He put his hands up.

“Yeah, of course.” I lifted my sword from the wounded Jin.

Mara took that moment to take a step back to unblock the doorway, then slumped against the wall.

She had a large cut across her abdomen. I hadn’t seen it happen at all.

I ran to her. Shade Corin gave her a look of concern, too.

“When did—”

“She cut me pretty good right after the bomb went off, before I cleared the shadows. Been holding my arm over it so they wouldn’t see that she’d gotten me.”

I kept an eye on the other team as I inspected Mara’s wound. It was…not great.

“This is bad enough that we probably should have teleported out immediately,” I told her. “I don’t think a potion is going to treat this.”

“Couldn’t teleport, Corin. Bomb turned off our stuff. That’s going to mean the circlets, too.”

I frowned at that. “Bright Reflection didn’t shield you from the void?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Sword stayed on, but nothing else did.”

“Resh. Okay. Hold on.”

I reached into my pouch with my free hand. The bag was functional — I found a healing potion inside.

Then, grudgingly, I set my sword aside to begin to administer it to Mara’s wound.

“It seems,” Shade Sera said, walking close to us with her sword lowered, “we owe you an apology.”

“Don’t stress it, we know what you were made for,” Mara said, wincing.

“Hold still,” I insisted, continuing to pour the potion across her abdomen. “And maybe drink the rest of this, I don’t know if just pouring it on the surface is going to heal everything.”

She set her sword aside, taking the offered vial, while I reached into my bag for bandages.

Release Haste. Release Accelerated Computation.

I periodically glanced at the other team as I dressed her wound. Even with a full healing potion, it was still…not great.

I threw a Regeneration spell on top of that, which might have helped, but she wasn’t in fighting shape.

“We should leave,” I told Mara. “You’re in too bad of shape to continue here.”

“Would really rather you don’t,” Shade Sera said to me.

I turned to her, blinking. “Why?”

“The whole ‘if you leave, we cease to exist’ thing,” she explained, her tone like she was talking to a five-year-old.

“Not sure that’s avoidable,” I told her. “Unless…”

“I won’t ask you to give up your boon like Keras did for Len,” Shade Sera said. “Not when you and Mara both have good reasons to need your own, my counterpart among them. I do, however, want to make you a deal.”

“A deal?” I asked.

“Corin,” she turned to Shade Corin, “see if you have a key in your bag. It’s the most likely place for it, I think.”

He found it almost immediately, setting it down. “Well, I suppose that’s another factor in confirming the nature of our existence. Unless we’re in the Spider Spire, or the Shrine of Lies, or something designed to convince us—”

“Let’s not overthink it,” Shade Sera told him. “If we’re the real ones, this deal will still work to our advantage.”

“Go on,” I told her.

“It’s very simple,” she said. “Ask yourself, what would Sera do in this situation?”

I had the answer immediately, then considered. “I’ll make some room in my attunement.”

“Good,” Shade Sera said. “Corin, Mara, help Jin back to our room?”

The shades retreated to their own chamber, leaving the key behind with us. I spent a bit longer talking to Mara, then making attunement adjustments. Then, with an abundance of caution, I reopened the door to the room with the shades of our team.

It was dark inside.

“Hello?” I called out.

No response.

No.

My fists clenched as I stepped inside, searching desperately, hoping, but—

I’d made a mistake.

I never should have let them leave my sight.

And now, only minutes after having created them, the shade shrine had claimed the lives it had made.

Chapter XXIII – Shades of the Past

I knelt at Mara’s side, breathing deeply. It didn’t help.

I was angry.

We were going to make a deal, I repeated in my mind. We had a deal.

Shade Sera’s insinuations had been easy enough for me to understand without being explicit. She was enough like the real one that I could tell she was talking around the subject deliberately — perhaps because she feared the possibility of exactly what had just happened.

If I’d been faster, if I’d been better prepared, I could have added the Summoner functions to my own attunement and made contracts with each of them.

They could have lived. We could have taken them to Len, given them mana batteries, let them live long lives of their own. They could have broken the contracts then, or kept them if they wanted. I’m sure a Shade Mara would have been happy to serve as extra combat backup for us, just to get a chance to fight strong opponents. Shade Patrick probably would have, too, mostly just because he liked being helpful.

All at once, I felt like I understood why Keras was so angry, in his own calm and relaxed way, about the injustice of how these shrines worked.

Vek.

I punched the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Mara asked, now seated with her back to the wall.

“They’re gone, Mara.”

“What?” she asked. “It’s only been minutes. And the key is still here. The room hasn’t reset.”

She pointed at the key, where Shade Corin had left it on the floor.

I picked it up, carrying it over to Mara, and sat down.

“…A reset. If we wait, do you think they’ll remember?”

She shook her head. “That’s not what reset usually means, Corin. And if the shrine made them vanish…”

“The crystal probably doesn’t want them to leave or make this sort of deal.” I shook my head. “Are we ascribing too much deliberate intent to the shrine on this? Their vanishing could be a default that happens a set time after they lose the key.”

“Maybe,” she said, “but I don’t think we’ll know that until we talk to the crystal. And judging by the way the first two rounds against that group went, we can’t handle a third one if they decide to attack again.”

I took a deep breath again. It didn’t help.

“Easy,” she told me. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I didn’t tell them to stay here. If I did, maybe they wouldn’t have vanished. Or if I’d seen it happening, maybe—”

“You need to stop taking responsibility for every tragedy that happens remotely near you, Corin.” She reached out for my hand, wincing at the movement pulling at her stomach.

She was apparently out of it enough that she didn’t remember my usual touch aversion. I processed that, thought about it, took a breath and…

The breath didn’t help.

But this time, oddly enough, holding Mara’s hand did.

We closed our eyes together for a minute in silence. For ourselves, to rest. And for our other selves, who would never open their eyes again.

***

As the rage gradually subsided, my mind fell back into focus.

We had limited time if we wanted to move forward. My items were recharging, slowly but surely, and I had access to my batteries again.

Mara was still very clearly too injured to stand, let alone fight.

“Going to throw another strong Regeneration spell on your wound. The first one has probably worn off at this point.”

“Please,” she said.

I leaned in, putting my hands over the wound and cast a Sunstone-level Regeneration spell on it. There was no immediate visible change, since she was wrapped in bandages. I wasn’t pleased to see that she was bleeding through them, but I couldn’t do much about that other than replace them after I was more confident the bleeding had stopped. “I could use the transcendent version, it might help faster—”

“You’re sweet, but no. This isn’t fatal, and it hasn’t been six months since Sheridan warned you against using that. Maybe change the bandages in a few, though? These are sticky, and I think it’s finally sealed.”

I nodded. I wanted to take the time to clean it properly before re-wrapping it, too, but we had limited time before the hard-earned key vanished.

I removed the existing bandages, did a cursory cleaning of the blood. The wound itself was still something that would need eventual treatment or significant rest to heal properly, but only a couple small corners were actively bleeding. I dabbed those with drops from the healing potion, dried it off with another section of bandage, then began to re-wrap her.

Mara waved for me to hand her the bandage roll. “I’ll finish it. Gonna be awkward, but I’ll have a few minutes to play with it while you’re in there. Don’t waste this chance,” Mara said, wincing. “Get in there and handle the last room.”

“You sure?” I asked. “We could leave at this point. The void bomb didn’t ruin our items — they’re recharging.”

“No,” she told me. “Finish it. For them.”

I nodded in understanding, handing her the bandages and pushing myself to my feet. “For them.”

“Key won’t last that long. Which reminds me. Hand it here?”

I passed it to her. She put her hand on the key. I saw a flash of mana from her hand. “What’s that?”

“Real basic stasis spell. Stasis is enhancement mana. Can’t say for sure if it’ll actually work, but it might buy you a little longer before the key vanishes. Or it might not. Get moving.”

I nodded. “You’ll be okay without me?”

“Don’t feel like I’m fainting or anything. A few minutes won’t kill me. You’re the one we should be worrying about. You said our stuff is recharging, but check the anchors?”

“Good call.” I went and checked the anchors we’d left outside each of the rooms. They were partially recharged, but I finished recharging them from a battery. “They’re usable now.”

“Good.” She slipped the circlet off her head. “Take the extra. That way, you have one to use to attack her, and one to retreat if you need to, or just to get out of the room faster.”

I took the circlet. “Okay, makes sense. Except…if I teleport her out here with it, she’ll be with you. That’s bad.”

“Can we backtrack in here?” she asked.

“Sure,” I told her. “I think so.”

“Stick the anchor to a wall in the room with all of the disappearing platforms. Maybe she’ll fall into the endless void.”

I laughed. “Love it. She can fly, though.”

“Right into the invisible walls and circular saws, hopefully.” Mara grinned at me. “Not that I expect it to beat her, of course, but we just need to get the keys and move.”

“Good call.”

I backtracked, setting up the anchor for Mara’s circlet like she’d suggested, then returned. Fortunately, the key we’d obtained hadn’t vanished yet, but I’d have to hurry.

When I got back to Mara, she had one more thing for me. She gestured toward where she’d taken the scabbard off her belt and rested onto the floor. “Take it.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely certain. You need every tool you can get, Corin. She’s dangerous. I’m serious.”

“I hear you.” I picked up Bright Reflection, debating for a moment. I could have put the sword in one of the symbols on my Belt of Swords, but instead, I fastened the sword’s scabbard to the belt the typical way. Then, I pulled out a couple mana batteries, clipped them onto my belt, and connected mana threads to the sword and batteries.

I drew Selys-Lyann, connected a mana thread to that as well, and took a deep breath.

Okay. About as ready as I’m going to get.

I stepped inside.

As I entered the room, I looked around just to see if there was anything Mara had missed. Much as I’d expected, the room was more familiar to me than it could have been to her —

It was the very same room where Tristan, Sera, and I had fought Mizuchi in the spire. In fact, the opposite wall — the one that would, if I wasn’t mistaken, lead into the room with the copies of my midterm team — was a replica of the door to Tenjin’s sanctum.

Was that intended to be a hint? I didn’t know.

I’d blow it open if I couldn’t get our planned solutions to work. Keras-brand solutions weren’t the best idea here, but I wouldn’t discount them, either.

In the center of that room, between me in the sanctum, was exactly what Mara had described.

Mizuchi’s shade looked like…well, Mizuchi.

If I’m being honest, if I hadn’t known that she was a shade, I might have mistaken her for the real thing. She didn’t look like she was composed of shadow, or even darker-colored and semi-corporeal like the shades of my group — she just looked like herself, complete with purple hair and fangs, with perhaps a little less color than she should have had. Like a version of Mizuchi that was stuck in between greyscale and color.

“Well, well.” Shade Mizuchi stepped forward. “If it isn’t the least dangerous Cadence sibling.”

I rested Selys-Lyann against my shoulder. “Not in the mood for banter right now. I’d like to give you a chance to surrender, though. Maybe even work with me, here. You know you’re not the actual Mizuchi, right?”

“Oh, I’m quite aware.” She lifted up a hand, seeming to examine her own clawed fingers. “It’s liberating, really. Different restrictions, of course, but none of the ones that have weighed on me since my birth. You have no idea what that feels like.”

I hated even hearing that voice, feared every syllable. She’d done so much harm. Or, at least, someone who looked just like her had.

But with every word, every experience, I was learning how ignorant I’d been. I wanted to do better.

So, I fought my fear. Hands trembling, I gave it an honest effort. “Why don’t you tell me about it? I’ll listen, if you want. If you aren’t forced to fight me—”

“You misunderstand, but that’s nothing new.” Mizuchi laughed. “I have no interest in bargaining or parley. You have been given so many blessings, handed so much with so little expected in return, and still you spit in the face of the goddess.”

“If this is about the whole ‘Valia is consorting with Children of the Tyrant’ thing, my friends and I fought and killed Saffron. We lost a great deal in the process.”

“You expect my gratitude for that? Saffron was just one problem among many.”

I shook my head. “We’re working on it. The average person in Valia had no idea about Saffron, or anyone else like it. You can’t hold us responsible for that. If you know of others, tell me, and I’ll do what I can.”

“You are one of the problems, Cadence. You’ve been compromised from the moment you picked up a rusted sword. So, if you want to help me out,” she moved a finger to her neck and brought it across in a slashing gesture, “feel free.”

“Not going to do that. But if you want to talk about the sword—”

“Enough!” She took a step forward. I could feel pressure in the air as she approached, a subtle tingling down my spine. “I’ll break that blade like I have a dozen times before. This shrine will be a suitable final resting place for a thing of shadow.”

“Fine. You want to do this the hard way?” I shifted into a combat stance. “I’ll play. Do you think you’re capable of putting up as much of a fight as the real Mizuchi did, or do you expect to lose right away?”

One of her eyes twitched. “I’m going to wipe that smile off your face, child.”

A quick glance didn’t show any unlit torches, just as Mara had indicated. Instead, the ceiling had those crystals Mara had mentioned in it — which were a little out-of-place in my recollection — and a few scattered runes etched into the walls.

Can’t be the same ones as the real spire, though, or Mara wouldn’t have been able to teleport out. Not enough of them, either. Maybe—

Mizuchi was in front of me in the next moment, a clawed hand flashing toward the center of my chest.

My eyes widened at the demonstration of speed — or, perhaps teleportation — but I wasn’t completely unprepared. A quick burst of transference from my ring of jumping took me out of the way of the swing. Then when she followed up the attack with a blast of lightning hurled from one of her claws, I slapped that out of the air with Selys-Lyann’s flat and raised the sword into a defensive stance.

“You’ve gotten faster,” she remarked.

“…Strangely, so have you, I think.” I might have allowed a bit of concern into my voice.

She laughed. “No, not really. I’m nothing like the original, I know. But that also means I don’t have the rules that she does.” She clapped her hands. A thunderous roar filled the room, so loud that I would have been deafened in an instant if not for my barriers and shrouds cutting down the sound.

Even then, the sound sent me staggering, backward — right as Mizuchi blurred, vanishing from sight.

Teleporting behind someone who was distracted was, frankly, one of the simplest possible ways to use that kind of magic — and under ordinary circumstances, a powerful opponent would play with the expectation of that technique, going somewhere other than directly behind the opponent with the expectation that they’d spin around.

As it happened, though, shade-Mizuchi played it straight, and I reacted just about as well as you’d expect from someone who had just been stunned by a near-deafening thunderclap — that is to say, not at all.

Mizuchi smashed a hand straight into the center of my back with spine-cracking force.

I flew forward from the impact, going from half-stumble into a tumble, hitting the ground and rolling forward, then recovering up into what might have been an impressive jump back to my feet if Mizuchi hadn’t reappeared right in front of me, her hand pulled back and ready to swing.

Oh, vek.

Jump.

I tried to hurl myself aside, but I wasn’t quite fast enough to dodge completely. Her clawed hand glowed black as she swung, shredding through my shrouds and drawing bleeding marks across my chin. Then, before I could even fully regain my stance, she was in front of me again, grabbing my collar and pulling her head back.

What? My barriers should have stopped—

Is she using void mana?

I was staggered and barely resisting the urge to vomit from the rapid movement — I had no good way to counter her strike.

I didn’t bother.

I slammed my head against her collarbone before she could finish bringing her skull down on mine.

“Return.”

I pushed on the mana of the circlet, focusing hard to push it into her, rather than myself—

And then she was gone.

I breathed a sigh of relief, grimaced, and rubbed at my forehead. “That was…”

“A wonderful ploy.”

I spun around at the sound of Mizuchi’s voice.

“Thing is, Cadence, I already warned you.” Shade-Mizuchi lifted a hand to her chin and laughed. “I don’t have to follow her rules here. You teleport me? Wonderful. I just teleport right back.”

“…Oh.” I gave her a chagrinned look, scratching my head. “Well-played?”

“You too.” She gave me a little bow.

Then she pulled back her fist, a black aura around it, and swung at me again.

Radiant Shroud.

A burst of mana flared out from my body, light mana interwoven with transference. I’d failed at Tavare’s training on how to properly reflect spells with that combination of mana types, but as it turns out, that kind of mana manipulation technique has other uses.

As Mizuchi’s hand passed through it, the black aura vanished—

And, without the defense-piercing void aura, her claw slammed into the shield sigil barriers. The strike was still strong enough to carry me back several steps, but she hissed in pain as she pulled her hand back. Smoke rose from her fingertips.

Haste. Jump.

I closed the distance as she shook her injured hand, swinging Selys-Lyann in a downward cut.

She grabbed my sword by the blade. “I warned you that I’d—”

I released the sword immediately, stepped forward, and shoved my palms directly into her face.

Luminous Arc.

A coruscating flare of radiance blasted out from my hands as I activated Bright Reflection through my mana thread, then used my own transference mana to change the origin point of the attack.

As Mizuchi screamed and fell backward, I drew from the light mana battery hooked to my waist, pouring more and more into the blinding assault, until finally, the battery had been bled dry. I couldn’t see Bright Reflection, but if I could, the sword’s blade would have been cold and dark.

I’d drained every bit from those items and nearly half of my own mana.

It still wasn’t enough.

Mizuchi fell to her knees, clutching her face as smoke rose from the wound.

“You…insolent…”

Wings burst from Mizuchi’s back as she began to transform, her grip on Selys-Lyann’s blade tightening.

I snapped my fingers, releasing a burst of spirit mana directly from Selys-Lyann’s blade into Mizuchi’s hand.

She roared, flipping the sword around and hurling it at me. I side-stepped the throw, then touched a symbol on the belt on my side.

Shroudstealer appeared in my hand.

Mizuchi rose, scales covering every inch of exposed skin on her body as she changed to her hybrid form, beginning to repair the damage to her body—

Which was utterly irrelevant, as I jabbed Shroudstealer right through the center of her chest.

She froze in shock. Honestly, I did, too.

The sword was built with Mizuchi in mind. I knew it’d be likely to cut through a weaker copy of Mizuchi’s shrouds with relative ease.

I had not, however, considered the fact that this copy of Mizuchi was made out of solid mana. And, given how much I’d already weakened her with light mana, that “solid” part wasn’t quite as impressive as it might have been otherwise.

There was no blood, just wisps of smoke.

She turned her head up to meet my eyes, reaching up with both hands to grab my blade and hold it in her hands. And then, in one last act of spite, she opened her jaws, lightning crackling between them.

My other hand came up to her mouth.

Shivering Shroud.

Light, transference, and ice mana formed right over the palm of my hand.

The resulting flare as lightning collided with my reshaped shroud was blinding—

Which was probably for the best, because unlike what Tavare had tried to teach me, my Shivering Shroud technique was perfectly effective at reflecting spells. And reflecting a serpent’s breath weapon at point blank range?

Even if she was made of solid mana, I can’t imagine the result was pretty.

By the time my vision returned, there was no sign of my opponent. Just a single key, gleaming in the light.

This was a good thing, because even reinforcing my shroud and focusing it entirely around my hand, I hadn’t managed to reflect her entire blast. My left hand was blistered and burned, my shroud and mana drained to nearly nothing.

But it didn’t matter.

I could barely believe it.

Copy or not, even if she’d been weaker than the version I’d fought with Tristan in the spire…

I’d won.

***

With only one uninjured hand, I spent an awkward minute storing Shroudstealer, picking up Selys-Lyann and storing that, then pouring the last remaining drops of my healing potion on my burned hand.

After that, I fumbled through my bag with my good hand to grab my life mana battery and used that to power a regeneration spell. It wasn’t a good idea to combine that with the ones from my shield sigils regularly, but this was a bad enough injury that I felt it was worth the risk.

The rest of my wounds could wait. I picked up the key, staggered back to the previous room, and gave Mara a smile.

“You’re walking. You didn’t teleport. Did you...win?”

I gave her an annoyed look. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“Corin, she absolutely wrecked me. She had to be Citrine-level, at least. Beating her one-on-one…that’s no small feat.”

“You warned me about what I was up against. Also, I cheated. Like…a lot.”

“How’d you manage it?”

“I’ll tell you later. For now, keys into door? I really don’t want them to vanish. I did that once, but I don’t think there’s any chance I could do it again.”

***

We staggered into the chamber ahead, both exhausted, blooded, and bruised. I stumbled, and Mara stepped in to catch me with her good arm. I didn’t flinch away. I let her help me walk. I needed it.

The floors were slick black stone carved into individual squares, barely visible in spite of the light my circlet was still emanating. Something was reducing the intensity of my enchantment’s light, which didn’t surprise me. The source was obvious enough, looming over us just ahead.

The Shade Gateway Crystal.

A colossal thing of dark grey and black, the gateway crystal looked like it had burst through a segment of the perfectly carved tile floor. I assumed that was probably a deliberate aesthetic flourish, given that the crystal likely predated the shrine around it, but I couldn’t know for certain. Did the crystals grow larger over time? Technically possible, I supposed. Maybe the original location for the crystal was down below somewhere, and we were just seeing the top of it?

That was a bit daunting, if true. The scale it implied…even the visible section of the crystal loomed dozens of feet above us.

I didn’t focus on that, though. I had more important questions. And so, it seemed, did the crystal ahead of us.

[Success. Success.]

[Ask. Ask.]

I blinked at the repetition. It felt like I was hearing the same voice twice, partially overlapping. Not quite an echo — the voices were too close together.

A little hard to parse, but it could have been worse. I’d been a little worried the shade shrine would speak backward or something.

“Mara? You go first?”

[Go first, go first…]

Mara took a deep breath, then nodded to me. “Great crystal, you created several people to fight against us. Copies of ourselves that seemed to wish to live on. Can you revive them?”

[Already…gone…gone…]

Mara’s remaining hand tightened. “Really wish you’d stop making people and throwing them away like that. It’s disturbing.”

[Not…true…life…]

I frowned at that. “What do you mean?”

[Other…shrines…make life. I make…mere…shades.]

“What’s the distinction?” I asked, folding my arms.

[Shades…have no will of their own…of their own…]

“It certainly seemed like they had motivation. They seemed to want to live.”

[Only…because…you expected them to.]

Mara tilted her head to the side. “Meaning what, exactly?”

[Do you wish…to use your boon…to know this?]

Mara paused. I shook my head at her.

“This isn’t like what Keras was dealing with in the spirit shrine. We’ve been told directly that there is no one to save. I’m not happy about what we saw, either, but we can investigate it later. We came here for a reason, Mara. You should ask for the boon you came here to achieve.”

“I feel like I’d be failing him if I just accept this kind of answer. He was willing to give up on—”

I cut her off. A little rude, maybe, but I couldn’t let her think like that. “This whole system is a mess, Mara. I won’t dispute that. If the crystal is telling us the shades we fought weren’t really alive, and it will cost a boon to ask more…frankly, that’s a bad deal. We have books for questions like that and people we can ask without that kind of price being extracted.”

“And the copies of us that just vanished?” she asked.

“Already gone. We’re just going to have to live with that.” I took a breath. “For now. Until we’re strong enough to make the changes we want to change — and, more importantly, knowledgeable enough to know which changes actually should be made.”

She hung her head. “It doesn’t feel right, just asking for something for myself.”

I took a step forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. “That’s a good sign about the type of person you are. But you earned this boon. And I have no doubt you’ll use any strength it gives you to fight to save others.”

She turned her head upward, looking straight at me. I held her gaze as long as I could. Then, finally, she nodded and turned away from me, facing the crystal.

“Great crystal of shade, my hand was lost in a battle, my spirit and shade wounded too badly to heal. Can you regrow my hand, restoring it to what it once was?”

[…What it once was…once was…]

[No.]

Mara lowered her head. “No? Really? After all that, the answer is no?”

[Multi-layer structural damage. Backup lost. Unable to restore from backup. Multi-layer reconstruction required.]

I blinked. This part was less echoey and a bit more like…a recorded answer? I frowned, but didn’t say anything.

“I…understand.” Mara took a breath, disappointment obvious, but we knew this was the likely outcome. “Could you give me a bond to the dominion of shade, then, so that I might learn how to use it to eventually restore that layer myself?”

[Restoration will be difficult…difficult…]

Mara nodded, looking a little more determined. “I’d need to learn how to restore each layer independently, right?”

[Not independently…together.]

Mara blinked. “You mean…fix everything all at once, across all layers?”

[For ideal result.]

She took a deep breath at that. “…That…definitely sounds more difficult.”

[Difficult…difficult…]

“Let’s do it anyway.”

[Request granted. Query: Target location.]

Mara raised her good hand. “Figure it’ll be easier to direct like this. Maybe help learn to use this hand as a template for the other hand to some degree, too.”

[Request granted.]

A dark grey symbol flashed across Mara’s hand — then, without so much as a window of time for a “thank you,” she vanished.

I stumbled again, no longer having Mara to bear my weight, then turned back toward the crystal.

“I take it you just sent her outside?”

[Outside…outside…] the crystal agreed.

“Okay.” I took a breath. “I have a sword with a complex sapient spirit. Therin Thorn.” I patted the sword at my side. “The spirit was banished. I had a seal expert handle restoring—-”

[Aware of sword’s state. State query.]

“Can you restore Therin Thorn?”

[Yes…yes…]

“Okay, then—”

[Will not...will not...]

I blinked. “Why?”

[Existential threat presented through interaction with artifact containing memory of King of Thorns.]

I blinked. “I…uh...huh.” I considered that. “I think the fragment is a minimal representation of the King of Thorns, and he wouldn’t be aggressive, I don’t think. Especially if you helped him.”

[Fragment is irrelevant. Greater will of King of Thorns presents existential threat.]

“…Is that relevant? Is he watching us? Would he know?”

[Please request another boon at this time.]

I shivered at the non-reply.

Well…that’s foreboding. Okay.

Hope he likes that I’m asking for help, at least?

“Right. Another request.” I took a breath. “My sister recently went through a near-death situation and has damage to her spirit and shade.”

[Sister is not present at shrine. Please request another boon at this time.]

I could sense the shade shrine’s impatience. Were they nervous? About the King of Thorns?

That made me nervous.

In terms of other things to ask for, the most obvious was another crystal mark, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to use up another Dianis Point on that. Not when it wouldn’t compound directly with my existing ones, and I could, in theory, get something that was more suitable for my abilities.

Then again, the shrines had more options than just their own personal dominion in terms of bonds. Sera had gotten a density bond out of the transcendence shrine. Was that type of thing an option here?

“Could you give me a crystal mark for a dominion related to transference?”

[Transference antithetical to key dominion components. No transference bond options available.]

That settled that question. It was a little odd, given that I was pretty sure density conflicted with transcendence in a similar fashion, but I also didn’t think the shrine had patience to get into antithetical dominion interaction theory.

I considered just asking the crystal to help heal any remaining damage I’d suffered during the battle with Saffron from over-exerting myself. It was a valid request from a healing-focused crystal, but…as far as I could tell, I would recover on my own. It would take months, but I already had a workaround for my lack of Enchanter abilities. I regretted not being able to use transcendence as much as I wanted, but crystals like this weren’t easy to access. If I was going to ask for a reward, I wanted it to be something that would have a long-term impact on my life.

Admittedly, given that we were in a potentially dangerous situation, getting immediate access to my full abilities could be life-altering. I knew I could die if I didn’t have access to my full abilities, or someone else might die because of my weakness. That was an unsettling possibility, but even so, asking for a one-time healing session didn’t feel like the right use of a boon.

Not when I had a way to accomplish something similar, but with a potentially greater long-term benefit.

It was a long shot. But, at times, those gambles were worth taking.

“I’ve heard essence sorcerers have access to abilities tied into other layers of self. Spirit bonds, similar to what I have with my sword. Shade weaves, memory marks…”

[Ask your question.]

“Are you capable of granting a shade weave to someone who isn’t strictly an essence sorcerer of the appropriate level?”

[Evaluating eligibility criteria.]

A shadow washed over me. My attunements briefly flared bright white, as if attempting to resist the tenebrous dark, but I didn’t feel any pain or harm. If anything, I thought I sensed a hint of mental mana in the air around me, but so suffused with umbral power that it was hard to discern.

[Diagnostics completed…completed.]

I raised an eyebrow. “And?”

[Two artificial wellsprings detected. Total essence capacity sufficient to constitute spirit-layer essence sorcerer.]

[One spirit bond detected. Functionality limited.]

[One artificial spirit bond detected. Essence exchange active: essence levels negligible.]

[One primal wellspring detected. Total essence level negligible: comparable to Candle-level wellspring.]

Primal wellspring? That must mean my crystal mark? That’s…fascinating, okay.

“And in total?”

[Essence levels insufficient for standard prerequisites for shade weave, but within allowable safety margins.]

Huh.

I hadn’t expected that to be a “yes”.

“Okay. Can you, uh, maybe explain a bit more about shade weaves to me, then, for some better context?”

[Please select a wellspring location for your shade weave. Note that your spirit bond location for Therin Thorn is not an acceptable option.]

“Does it have to be a spot where I already have a Dianis Point filled with something?” I asked. “I don’t want it to interfere with something that has — or could have — an antithetical dominion.”

[Any wellspring location can be utilized. Note that functionality will be limited without a connected wellspring.]

I nodded. That made things more difficult. Shade was a combination of umbral and life mana, and I didn’t want the umbral mana to conflict, but having limited functionality if I put it on a different location was sub-optimal.

“Could you give me a shade weave that only utilizes life mana? On my right hand, since that already has an attunement with life mana?”

[Designate shade weave function.]

“Regeneration for essence structures and other layers of self, if that’s possible?” I asked quickly, thinking of the obvious.

[This is possible, but with limitations.]

“What sort of limitations?” I asked.

[Life essence, as typically used in the human body, principally heals physical bodily structures. Life aspects that impact essence structures exist, as do life aspects that tie to other layers of self, but they incorporate fragments of other essence types. Incorporating any one of these aspects would reduce the overall efficacy of the weave.]

“And incorporating multiple of them would reduce the effect cumulatively?”

[Yes.]

I considered that for a minute. Just having physical regeneration was potentially massively useful in combat, but…that wasn’t really my greatest concern. Obviously, I didn’t want to be critically injured, but I had access to powerful physical healers, and I already had physical regeneration items. I could make better ones on my own, too.

I don’t necessarily need something that heals every layer of self, do I? Just the ones I’m risking with my actions. So…spirit, shade, memory, transcendence, general essence structures…

That’s almost all of them, isn’t it?

At this rate, I’ll probably break the rest eventually.

Yeah, I need all of it.

I nodded, more to myself than the crystal. “How much weaker would each layer added make the overall weave?”

[You can assume that the efficacy would be roughly divided by the number of layers you’re regenerating, then reduced marginally further.]

“So a full set of aspects, including physical regeneration and the essence self, would be something lower than one ninth the effectiveness of something that just heals the body?”

[Yes. Assume closer to one tenth.]

I nodded again. “That’s still worth it. Thank you for answering my questions. I’d like a regeneration weave for the full set of aspects for each layer of self, including essence structures.”

Green, soothing light wrapped around my right hand. I felt energy flooding outward from the center of my hand to my fingertips, then up my wrist, gradually fading.

[Shade weave completed. Do not return.]

Then, without so much as a goodbye, I was wrapped in blackness, and I found myself standing outside.

Chapter XXIV – A Darker Gemstone

Mara and I were absolutely exhausted as we stumbled out of the shrine, leaning against each other for fear that we might collapse without the support. It was…unusual, being able to be in contact with her like that without feeling as much of my typical panic. Part of the difference was probably that I was getting more used to her as a person, learning to trust that she wouldn’t hurt me, but I didn’t think that was the main factor. It was largely for the same reason that I didn’t panic when being touched by an ally who needed to cast a spell on me for a fight, or to heal me in the aftermath. My mind just didn’t process that contact in the same way. The fight might have been over, but my body was still primed for threats.

Len was waiting for us, just as I’d hoped. I felt a sense of relief when I saw her, but that relief shifted into confusion when I realized that Elora was with her.

“You’re both out,” Elora noted immediately. “Wonderful. I timed this perfectly. Callahan, you’re with Len. Corin, you’re with me.”

Mara folded her arms. “Not without an explanation. What’s goin’ on? Len?”

“Miss Theas has informed me that Corin has agreed to a meeting with one of her…contacts. That meeting has been arranged, and she hopes to bring him there.”

Mara turned to me. “This true?”

I nodded grudgingly. “I did agree to a meeting. You’ll get me back to the council in a timely fashion?”

“Of course. We’re both needed. This will be only a minor delay. And, since you seem needlessly suspicious, please rest assured that no harm will come to you. It would make no sense for me to simply vanish with you and murder you in a dark alley. People would notice, and you’re not that valuable.”

“…Thanks for the reassurance.” I sighed. “Does this need to be right now? I’m drained.”

“As you might expect, arranging meetings with certain individuals can be difficult, and we happen to be in closer proximity to an appropriate meeting place now. I sent messages while you were gone, got approval and arranged timing.”

“I’ll come along,” Mara said, seeming to notice my concern, “and you can take me back later.”

“You won’t, dear. The idea of a private meeting is that it’s private. I won’t be in attendance, either. I’ll be waiting nearby.”

I took a deep breath. “She can wait with you? Len can, too, if she’s willing to come along. We’re still at war, and splitting the party isn’t a great idea.”

“I wasn’t going to…” Elora frowned, then shook her head. “Fine. You’re right that we’re safer as a single group. And I could use something to eat.”

I blinked. “Eat?”

“What, were you expecting your meeting to happen in the middle of a mana-deprived void? A plane of nightmares, perhaps? No, Corin. It’ll be much worse. We’re going to a tavern.”

***

I warily stepped through the doors of the Perfect Stranger tavern, glancing from side to side for threats.

It looked like an ordinary enough tavern, at least as far as I could see at a glance. Well, aside from being in the middle of nowhere in the Unclaimed Lands. I wasn’t sure how they managed to get any business. Not that I was particularly familiar with tavern business models, but it wasn’t my first time setting foot in one, either, and the majority of them had regulars — I couldn’t see that happening in a monster-filled wasteland. Really expensive drinks, maybe? Couldn’t imagine they would have a place with this without something really special on the menu. Like, I don’t know, liquid immortality or something.

I wasn’t big on drinking — I still didn’t like anything that felt like it changed the way my mind worked in a negative way — but I’d been dragged to a few taverns with my friends from time to time. Some of them had surprisingly decent food, too.

But I wasn’t there for a meal, and Elora aside, I didn’t think most of the scattered patrons of this place were, either. Most of them had the look I’d associated with climbers and delvers — visible weapons and signs of less-visible ones, accompanied by worn clothes and mismatched accessories. If I’m honest, that look didn’t actually feel threatening to me, even if it should have. It felt comfortable, like I was among my peers.

A waiter stepped over to the door a moment or two after I entered. “Your friend is waiting for you on the second floor. If you’ll follow me?”

I half-frowned, but knowing I was coming and giving the waiter a description wasn’t exactly a major act of prestidigitation. After seeing what Farren could do on a number of occasions, it didn’t really alarm me.

The sight of my “friend” did, though.

The waiter led me up a small stairway and to an isolated table near the back of the room, where a single man sat at a table with a Crowns board in the center of it. He was immediately familiar in a way that might have been joyous if I hadn’t noticed a few small details and a single greater one.

The man who was waiting for me wasn’t Derek Hartigan, but he could have been the man’s simulacrum. The differences were mostly subtle enough that they could have been my imagination, or perhaps the product of strange magic following his departure with Aayara. It had only been weeks since I’d seen Derek, but this man was notably older in some small ways — a little heavier of build, with deeper smile lines that were more prominent on the right side of his lips. His hair was a little longer, tied back in a ponytail that went just past his shoulders.

It was also stark white, which helped to draw attention to the excessive paleness of his skin. Either this man hadn’t seen the sun in far too long, or…

I sat down across the table, internally grimacing. I’d seen this man before, at the Winter Ball. I’d heard of him on more occasions than I could count, mostly in childhood stories and myth, but on occasion, in the forms of more personal warnings.

I took a seat across from him, half-concerned that even the chair might be trapped, but resigned to the fact that if this man wanted me dead, I wasn’t going to be walking out of the building regardless of any precautions.

“Corin, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much.” He reached down to his side, briefly presenting a window of apparent vulnerability, and lifted something off the floor.

I flinched as he reached back up and set an object on the table.

An hourglass. He flipped it over, and I watched the grains of sand begin to pour.

“Let’s begin, shall we?”

***

Crowns was often mentioned in the same breath as Valor, but while the games were both popular and frequently played on similar boards, they had some clear differences.

Valor was a mirrored game, each side starting with identical pieces. There was a variant of the game where one side had the Tyrant in Gold instead of Selys, but it wasn’t as popular. My understanding was that there were variants on Valor in other nations that had different names for the pieces — a “soldier” might be called a “warrior” instead — but they were still functionally near-identical, with a simple board and identical gameplay.

Crowns, however, was known for having numerous possible starting configurations. Each player built an “army” using a set number of points to purchase units, which each had a set point value. It was common for pre-built armies to be sold in sets — things like a “House Theas” set or a “House Hartigan” set, for example, built around having a famous hero like Edrick Theas or Blake Hartigan and generic support troops. There was an underlying formula used to calculate the point value of units, based on things like the unit’s Health, Attack, Movement, and Mana, but certain features were harder to quantify, and there were certain national and international organizations that approved and denied specific units for tournament play.

I’d played quite a bit of the game, largely because it was one of Sera’s favorite activities. Enough to know even at a glance that I wasn’t playing a balanced game.

And, more importantly, that some of the units on the board were not just non-standard — they’d most likely been carved for the purpose of this game alone.

The Blackstone Assassin lifted a single piece from the board — a beautifully carved stone piece representing Tenjin, the Visage of my homeland — and moved him forward, out of the protection of his army.

“Your move.”

I glanced at my own side of the board, inspecting my available pieces, and with growing trepidation, moved a Whisper piece from next to a Sovereign.

“I suppose Professor Orden would make the first move from this side? Unless,” I gestured toward a Summoner in House Theas colors, “you’d consider Elora to have made the first move?”

“Oh, no need to try to replay a past game. It’s more interesting to see if you could do better, after all.”

He moved Tenjin again, directly approaching my front line.

I lifted another piece, an unfamiliar one — a small boy. And, as I expected, I found numbers carved into the bottom representing statistical values. Absurdly high ones, in fact. “Echion?”

My mind went back to the strange child I’d found during my first visit to the Serpent Spire — one who had been marked with an experimental artificial attunement built to resemble the power of god beasts.

“An impressive experiment. Perhaps those numbers overstate his value at that age, but the game is more interesting when both sides have a chance, and certain abilities are harder to represent in game form. Particularly,” the Blackstone Assassin waved at the Sovereign, “the power to take abilities from others. Very few could claim to have such an ability, and fewer still have any understanding of the true potential of it. For that reason, it’s rarely represented in Crowns in general, and such pieces are usually disallowed in tournaments on your continent. After all, any true representation of their abilities would, by necessity, unbalance the game.”

I could see what he was hinting at, both in regards to Tristan himself and the similarity between Tristan’s abilities and those of the man I was playing against.

I moved Echion forward, preparing him to meet Tenjin’s advance. “And yet, you’ve allowed him to be in this game.”

“Of course. I’m the one who set the board. Shall we see the conclusion?”

Tenjin moved forward again without any accompaniment from his army — and I understood why. The assassin and I knew that we were both moving pieces for a game, but the piece he shifted wasn’t aware that the army he was walking into belonged to another player.

And with that knowledge, I gradually moved my pieces to surround Tenjin, then struck.

…Without the Sovereign this time. And, without difficulty, Tenjin wiped out the entire assault.

The Blackstone Assassin sighed, flipping the hourglass back over, then shifted the Crowns board out of the way. “You can see the difficulty. Even with strong pieces,” he gestured to Echion’s piece, now taken off the board, “some units are too strong for conventional assault. It is those unbalanced pieces, those that would be disallowed under ordinary circumstances, that are necessary countermeasures in a challenging game.”

“Unless you have an equally powerful piece of your own.”

“Ah.” The assassin’s lips twisted. “A wonderful suggestion. Perhaps we should try that in another game. Which piece, would you say, best cancels out this one?”

He lifted Tenjin.

“Conventionally, one would expect Wydd’s wide range of movement and stealth abilities would be the best counter to Tenjin. Aside from that…” I frowned. “Maybe the Emperor of Xixis?”

The Blackstone Assassin laughed. “An unconventional play, and one that perhaps strays a bit too far from the intended scenario. Accurate, though. And that sort of thinking is part of why I appreciate you, Cadence.”

“…Thank you?”

“Think nothing of it. Drink?” He waved down a waiter.

I hesitated, then brushed panic aside. He wasn’t going to bother poisoning me. “Do you have any juice?”

“Sure. Apple, orange, grape, lemonade?”

I ordered an apple juice. The Blackstone Assassin asked for a glass of some kind of fancy-sounding wine.

When I turned back away from the waiter, the Crowns board was gone, and the assassin was looking at me with a serious expression. “I think I’ve met the mandatory requirement for powerful beings playing with metaphors at this point, so I’ll be direct. I’d like you to work for me, Cadence.”

I can’t say I was entirely surprised, but it wasn’t the most likely option for how this scenario would play out. “Why?”

“Because, as you just demonstrated with your last suggestion, you’re capable of thinking about pieces so far off the board that most wouldn’t even conceive of using them. That has significant value. Moreover, you possess a rare skill set — one capable of upending the balance of things in a number of ways. As much or more than the piece you refused to play.”

I took a breath. “I don’t like being treated like a game piece.”

He relaxed back into his chair, shaking his head. “The metaphor is for simplicity, much like a military commander might represent troops with pieces before a battle. That does not negate your personhood or agency — in fact, I would be counting on those factors to make you useful. If it helps,” he flicked his wrist, making me tense, “I use the same imagery for myself.”

He placed a single piece on the table, one that looked very much like himself, but wearing a mask and a jaunty hat. “One of the mass-produced ones. The quality is a bit dubious, but you get the idea. The pieces exist to represent the presence or absence of someone in any given conflict, but I’m not the sort of person that actually thinks of living people as toys.”

“You’d be the first vae’kes I’ve spoken to that doesn’t,” I said before checking myself. It was a dangerous thing to say, perhaps, but he simply nodded.

“It’s very easy to see anyone who is different from yourself as lesser. This goes doubly so when you’re in a position of power, and of course, immortality doesn’t help much as far as perspective goes.” He accepted a glass from the returning waiter, and I did the same with my cup of juice. “I can’t say I’ve always proven to be an exception, but certain events have helped put things into perspective. And now, my intent is to work with others I can trust to have agency of their own. Not as equals, perhaps, but as…let’s call your role a ‘junior partner’.”

“Why?” My expression narrowed. I took a drink. “If you’re as powerful as the stories say, what purpose would you have for anyone like myself, aside from as a simple game piece?”

He seemed to consider that for a moment, lifting his glass and swirling it in the air. “You mentioned the Emperor of Xixis. That implies an awareness of powers outside of your home, which is a necessary insight. For too long, I was, like many of my peers, entirely too focused on events of an insular nature. Pieces that could be moved on a board in a simple, predictable fashion. This allowed for events to progress without my intervention for too long — to an extent that I would be foolish to attempt to handle them purely on my own.”

“The Sun Eater,” I said simply.

He smiled, lifting his glass in a mock toast. “I knew you’d understand.” He took a sip, and hastily, I raised my own juice to drink alongside him. “The Sun Eater is an imminent threat, one that our entire planet is ill-prepared to handle. And while my peers would happily take this opportunity to use his impending incursion as a chance to find a better position for themselves, there is no point to being the top of the hierarchy of a dead world. Yes, I could survive and move to another world entirely, but I rather like it here. Don’t you?”

Presuming that wasn’t a rhetorical question, I answered simply, “Most of the time.”

“A fair response.” He nodded. “The Sun Eater is not the only problem, of course, simply the most imminent. There are others that could be similarly devastating. If the Sun Eater’s strike is even partially successful, for example, it could breach the seals that still hold the makers of this world. Releasing the Maker of Monsters would be a different sort of cataclysmic event, but one that I am equally eager to avoid.”

“So, your purpose for recruiting me would be to contribute toward stopping end-of-the-world scenarios?” I frowned. “I can see why I might have some utility in terms of Kaldwyn’s political scene, or even some longer-term influence if my magic grows, but…I’m a bit out of my depth with threats on that scale.”

“For now. And it’s not as if I expect you to be on the front line fighting the Sun Eater — rather, my hope is that your intervention could help to shift things so that there are more people of prominence in a position to do so. And, of course, you are hardly the only person I have reached out to, directly or indirectly. You’re right, however. Your political and magical power are useful, but replicable. What I require,” he gestured with a hand toward my head, “is this. I won’t claim that your manner of thinking is entirely unique, but the combination of your unusual mindset and your other abilities makes your perspective valuable. I want you to continue to think of inventions and strategies that others might ignore — and share those with me. Between us, and many others, I hope to avert the disasters to come.”

I paused, contemplating. Even if I’d predicted the possibility that he’d try to recruit me, this particular angle hadn’t been what I’d expected…nor was his attitude.

Jacinth didn’t come across like the other vae’kes had. He seemed…human. Normal. And close enough to Derek that it was hard not to take what he said at face value. He seemed almost mundane, normal. Charming, even.

Somehow, that made the entire setup more terrifying, rather than less.

I knew I was being played. I knew he was speaking to me on a level that indicated a high degree of preparation, like someone who had studied me closely. Not like most of the politicians I’d chatted with at the Emerald Council, who only had a cursory idea of my motives and capabilities.

…More like whoever had thrown in a summoned monster, rather than a conjured one, just to counter the fact that I had Bright Reflection.

That wasn’t to say that he was the person who had arranged that, of course. In fact, I found it hugely unlikely, and antithetical to his goals. It was more that I felt like I was talking to someone who had been paying attention, and who knew how to model my personality, rather than just coming into a chat with demands and expecting me to keep up.

He was making it too easy for me to say yes. I had to be wary of that. My childhood had been filled with stories of people who had made deals with the Blackstone Assassin, only to meet with a terrible fate.

He clearly had an angle here. “Even if I believe your word that your goal is to save the world, I have to assume you’re going to try to make sure that the state of the world in the aftermath is favorable to you…and any actions I took while working with you could contribute to that.”

“Naturally. And you might think that you’re better off trying to assist with these same events without associating with me — that’s perfectly reasonable. If you want to walk out the door without making any sort of deal, this meeting will still have been worthwhile for me, I won’t take any actions against you. That would be counter to my interests, since I think you have a role to play in the war against the Sun Eater, even if I think you’d be vastly more effective with my guidance. There is, of course, the question of whether or not you’d live long enough to help with the Sun Eater without my assistance. That’s not a threat, I’m not the one who would hurt you, nor is it likely that my agents would find any need. It is, however, an honest assessment that you may be in over your head.”

I took a breath. “Someone tried to have me killed on the train. Do you know who it was?”

“I do. A small consideration, ultimately, but that bit of information is one thing I’d be willing to offer in exchange for cooperation. I’d advise against it, however.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because that’s a minor incident, in the grand scope of things, and one you’re capable of either figuring out yourself or ignoring. When you’re dealing with someone like me, your better bet is to trade for things you can’t find anywhere else.”

“Such as?”

I knew that allowing him to present his own answers was offering him more control over the conversation, but given who I was dealing with, I was more interested in seeing what he had to say than I was in retaining any fleeting or illusory bit of control.

“Information on ancient and obscure magic. Solutions to long-term problems you’ve been struggling to resolve on your own, although I will admit that you’re making some strides there even without my help. Powerful items, artifacts, resources. These are the types of things I could offer.”

“A means to permanently remove a visage’s brand without triggering its negative effects?”

“You’re playing your hand too much with that question, Cadence, and you can handle that issue on your own.”

I frowned. “Can I?”

“You can. It will take time and research, and involve risks, but you can. I offer you that information freely, by the way, because I want you to have it.”

“Why?”

“Your intent is obvious and I approve of it. In fact, I think you’d find that we align in many respects, and I can offer you a great deal. In your particular case, I’d suggest that the best options would be resources to help with your work. And, perhaps even more importantly, answers to questions you would not find elsewhere.”

“What sort of answers?” I had to ask.

“People around here are obsessed with hiding forbidden knowledge. I have no fear of Wydd’s machinations, nor am I afraid of what they would do to you if you learn too much. And, as I’m sure you expect, I know a great deal. I cannot say I’d share everything with you at once — and certainly not for free — but I could offer information that you would be hard pressed to find anywhere else on Kaldwyn, and perhaps beyond. Details on Tyrenian magic, Artinian, Danian. Things you won’t find in Constantine’s books. The spires, the visages, the world around you. Your family.”

My hand tightened around my cup. “Is this similar to the deal you offered Tristan?”

“Ah.” His smile faded a hint. “I did approach Tristan, yes, though indirectly. And I believed we had an excellent arrangement. But he chose a different path, and I regret that limits how much I could continue to help him.”

“…Are you the backer that was keeping him safe, then?”

He shook his head. “No. I provided information to Tristan through an intermediary, as well as a weapon to use, but his current backer is someone else, and not one of my peers.”

“Wydd?” I asked.

“I don’t normally answer things like this for free, but since it’s clearly weighing on you — no, not Wydd. Or, at least, Wydd is not Tristan’s most direct backer that I’m aware of. I can’t actually say I’m certain about Wydd’s stance in this. They’re complicated. But Tristan has help from someone else I’m certain of.”

I considered that, then nodded. “Thank you. That’s more than most people would tell me directly, at least. Do you know if Tristan is alive at this moment?”

“I suspect he is, although I can’t make promises in that regard. I haven’t personally been in the Serpent Spire recently and my agents have had limited access. I am very nearly as blind on events inside of the spire as you are.”

I was surprised to hear him admit any lack of information. “Could you save him, if he’s still alive?”

“As much as I’d love to entice you with such a promise, it wouldn’t be worth it for me to try. I could break my way into the spire, but it would spark a different sort of war. Even if I succeeded in dragging Tristan out of there…well, you’re valuable to me, but not valuable enough to risk a conflict on that scale. I hope you understand.”

I let out an exhausted sigh. I had known it wouldn’t be that easy, but I had to try. “If you can’t save him directly, what specifics are you offering? You’ve mentioned resources and information, but that’s all very vague.”

I was conscious of the fact that his manner of dialogue was lulling me into a negotiation, which worked to his advantage in terms of securing an eventual agreement of some kind…but this was the first time I’d sat down and talked to someone that could very likely offer me both the answers and the resources necessary to meet my long-term goals.

Keep your wits about you, Corin. You don’t want to end up with your soul in a rock.

I took a deep breath, half-conscious of my foot tapping underneath the table.

Breathe. Stop giving tells.

I stilled my motion briefly, but I knew I’d start doing it again later. It wasn’t a conscious thing, usually.

If the Blackstone Assassin noticed my struggle, he gave no sign. “I may not be willing to walk into the spire and steal your brother for you, but if that is your greatest concern, I might be able to offer you a way into the spire itself. It wouldn’t be easy, however, and you would be detected. I might be able to delay that, but ultimately, you’d be caught.”

“…And I couldn’t handle Katashi.”

He scoffed. “Certainly not. Now, we could attempt to time it so that Katashi would be less likely to respond personally, but if you reached your brother’s location, I can’t say if that would set off enough alarms to bring Katashi immediately. Even if you went in with a team of Emeralds — which I would not provide for you — Katashi would be too much for you to handle in a direct confrontation.”

“…And if I thought I had a way of beating him?”

Jacinth laughed. “Well, then I’d have underestimated either your foolishness or your capabilities. Or both. Do you think you have the means to defeat him?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, “but I’m not certain I have a better choice.”

“You do, at least to my mind. I can understand why, particularly with a war beginning, you might want to see to Tristan’s safety as quickly as possible. But that,” he shook his head, “isn’t the move I’d recommend. Unless I’ve vastly underestimated you — which is rare — I don’t think you’d even make it to him inside the spire if I got you inside. You lack the means to navigate to the right room, and if you did, Katashi would find you. His direct intervention wouldn’t even be necessary. More likely, Mizuchi would show up, and you’d be captured or killed.”

I grimaced. It wasn’t dissimilar from my own expectation, but it did give me a bit of information — he didn’t say anything about Lute or the Seventh Spire. It was possible that he didn’t know I already had a plan in motion. I didn’t want to let him onto that, so my next question continued along the lines we’d been discussing.

“What if you equipped me with something that could be used to fight them? The Ordinary Knife?”

He shook his head. “That trick worked because Tristan was able to get close to Tenjin without being suspicious — and multiple distractions were in play. Even in a situation where you’re capable of getting close enough to Katashi or Mizuchi with the knife, they’ll be ready for it. You wouldn’t be able to get a clean hit, and then you’d be disarmed. Then killed, if you’re very lucky.”

“The knife was just an example.” I waved at the Crowns pieces. “Surely you have access to other tools.”

“I do, of course. And I’d like to offer you the use of one, but not the kind that you stab someone with. It’s something that would be far more valuable, in the long run.”

“Which is?”

“Time.” He said it with a completely straight face.

“…What, like chronomancy?”

“In a sense. I’m not going to teach it to you or give you an attunement, so don’t get your hopes up on that. But there’s a place that I can arrange for you to visit. Somewhere you can hone your skills with minimal interruption. It won’t be easy, and it won’t be free. You’d need to make things, but they’d be things you’d want to make anyway, and you wouldn’t be giving them to me. They’d be going toward your war effort.”

I frowned, processing. “Just to be clear, we’re talking about some sort of place…what, outside of time?”

“Not outside of it, but with a different relationship to it than here.”

“What, the plane of time, then? Or—”

He raised a hand. I froze in alarm. “Ah, didn’t mean to startle you. You’re a bit jittery, aren’t you? Probably a good thing, but perhaps I should have let you rest and eat before our chat. I was simply stopping you because I won’t answer that directly. You have enough information to know if you want to make a deal and to understand the value.”

“Respectfully, no.” I shook my head. “There’s a tremendous difference in my response based on how much time it earns me, as well as risk factors, and whether or not I can get time magic out of it.”

“True.” He nodded. “Very well, then. In brief, I’ll say: months in days, moderate risk if you try anything foolish, and it would be difficult but not strictly impossible. I wouldn’t advise the last. If you end up practicing chronomancy, you’ll draw more attention that you don’t want.”

“From who?”

“My lovely family.” He smiled in a way that told me lovely was definitely not the word he was really thinking.

I took another breath, images of Saffron and what he’d done to Sera flashing unbidden through my mind. “…I don’t suppose you could protect me from the consequences of that?”

“Of course I could, if you were a direct, permanent agent in my employ. But you’re not going to agree to that today, are you?”

“…No.”

“Good. I would have lost respect for you if you did.” He nodded. “I’ll be direct, since you value that. For our initial deal, I will provide you with access to a location soon. It won’t appear to be under my control, mind you, but arrangements will be made for you to have access. You will be given resources for enchanting. Not limitless, but vast.”

“Define vast in this context.”

“At a minimum, enough raw materials to make the equivalent of ten thousand of your fancy personal shield sigils. Not that you’ll be in there long enough for that — I’m speaking strictly of material goods in scale.”

That…that was a lot.

Too much. If he was starting his bidding on that scale, that just made the whole thing more suspicious.

“When you say raw materials, do you mean just the physical item to enchant, or things like mana crystals?”

“Either or both. Also, books with more enchantments, if you need them.”

“Assistants?” I asked.

He flashed me a grin that looked very much like Derek. “A better question and a much harder ask, considering where you’re going. That would be very limited, but I can make inquiries. Assume you’d be alone for a significant time, but with some help here and there. You also won’t be trapped. You could leave at any time, provided you follow instructions and don’t get yourself stuck.”

That was a valuable clarification and one I probably should have asked about on my own. “What would get me stuck?”

“Mostly trying to go through the ‘don’t go through this door’ door.”

“Right. That seems clear enough. Does it have mental compulsion effects on it?”

“No, but it’s a very mysterious door.”

I groaned. “Okay. You’re talking about shield sigils — those are small items. What about materials for larger ones?”

“Easy. I was simply trying to give you an idea of resource scale. If you need prepared items for making swords, armor, shields, that’s all easy.”

“Golems?” I asked.

“Not a direction I expected from you, but it could be arranged.”

It wasn’t a direction I expected to focus on, either. I still had bits of a golem from the Tiger Spire in my bag, though, and I intended to do something with them eventually. More golem parts would help with that.

And I was very cognizant of the fact that if the Blackstone Assassin was this familiar with my abilities and interests, Katashi might be, too. I needed to find something I could use to my advantage that people like them wouldn’t expect. Something new.

“What is this going to cost me?” I asked.

“You will be given valuable time to train and grow stronger and improve your craft. In exchange, you will spend a significant portion of the time in the facility making things for the war effort. These items will be given to Elora Theas, who will allocate the items as she deems fit. I believe you’ve been working on something special, recently?”

I frowned at him. “That’s so vague that it sounds like cold reading.”

He laughed. “I mean your Summoner-contract items that don’t require a Summoner.”

I tried very hard not to show a reaction. “Should I ask how you know about those?”

“Corin, I don’t need a spy network for that one. You’re wearing one right now.”

That put me up short. “How?”

“You might not expect this, but I’m an information specialist spellcaster myself. My magical talents tend to run the opposite direction of many of my siblings — while they tend to lean toward illusion and deception, I counter that with information gathering. No, I won’t teach you any magic. Not unless you work for me.”

I was getting more tempted by the minute. “…Okay. I’m going to note that you actually evaded the question of how you knew, by providing an answer on how you could have learned, but I’m not going to push on that.”

He gave me a tip of the head. “Wise. I’ll count that as a point in your favor. Now, how about making some of those toys for Valia’s military in a safe place?”

“I’m not opposed to it, but ‘some of those’ is awfully open-ended.”

“A reasonable concern. Don’t worry, I won’t be vague on this if we move forward — you can agree to hard numbers with Elora. My intent is not to overwork you or to tear every possible moment of your useful time away. Rather, it serves me better to help accelerate your growth, while still improving Valia’s standing.”

“Because you’ll be in control of Valia if Katashi is defeated?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. Whatever you think of me, a puppet government is not what I’m looking for. It’s true that Elora has high ambitions, and she does work with me, but I am not in complete control of her, nor would she — in any reasonable scenario — have full control over Valia as a whole. It is, however, reasonable to say that I would have greater influence if Katashi’s efforts are defeated, and that influence will be necessary to turn Valia’s eyes toward an impending invasion of potential world-shattering scale.”

“You want to employ Valia’s military directly against the Sun Eater?” I asked.

“Not the entire military. That would be impractical and create future vulnerabilities. Rather, my plan is to keep Valia’s infrastructure largely intact throughout the war, then when the time comes, to have a variety of powerful individuals that can be deployed toward dealing with the Sun Eater’s agents. You would likely be one of those involved, but not necessarily in a battlefield role. My assessment is that you would be both safer and more useful in developing tools for the agents that we utilize more directly.”

“I’m not sure I like the idea of you having access to that much of Valia’s power.”

“That’s abundantly reasonable. In your position, knowing what you know, I would anticipate that the Blackstone Assassin would be using all of this in some sort of long game to ensure his sole control over the future of the continent.”

“…Are you?”

“No.” He didn’t elaborate.

I blinked. “Just…no?”

“I have very specific goals. Controlling kingdoms is not my long-term interest. People are exhausting.”

I…didn’t think I’d ever relate to something a legendary villain said. That was probably a bad sign. “What are your goals, then?”

“Work with me long-term and you might figure that out.”

I sighed. “If I agree to this deal, it would just be for this…training in a specific area?”

“For the moment. We could agree to other things now, but my suggestion would be to use this as a test case.”

“Which you’ll make as ideal for me as possible, in order to earn my trust?”

“Naturally. Is that a bad thing for you?”

“That depends on how effective it is at shifting my perspective.”

His smile widened. “Quite right.”

“Aside from that obvious trap, what else are you asking for? There have to be other conditions.”

“There are, yes.” He nodded, then reached under the table. I flinched, but he was just producing a small set of papers, presumably from a dimensional bag similar to mine. “Some basic terms. I think you’ll find them quite reasonable.”

Oh, this is probably where I sign away my soul.

I took a breath, inspecting the pages. In spite of my concerns, there was nothing that stood out to me as obviously amiss. I paid the most attention to the terms that looked like they could catch me in a violation:

Section 4.2:

Upon signature, Corin Cadence (hereafter “the contracted crafter”) agrees to the following terms:

The contracted crafter will not disseminate the location of the facility they are assigned to, except to accepted parties (see section 8.1).

Prior to or upon entry to the facility, the contracted crafter will produce an expected production schedule for a type of product agreed upon with the facilitator (as defined in 3.2) or a designated third party (as defined in section 11.4). The contracted crafter will be expected to produce goods in accordance to this schedule except in the case of disastrous events (as defined in section 15.8) or if sufficient notice is given for a contract exception (see section 17.9).

The contracted crafter agrees that half of any goods (as defined in section 9.3) created during the time spent in the facility are owned by the facilitator.

The contracted crafter agrees to turn over the goods owned by the facilitator to a designated third party (as defined in section 11.4) upon request.

The contracted crafter is assumed to own the intellectual property related to any original creation (see section 19.2) generated in this time period, however, the facilitator reserves a non-exclusive, world-wide right to reproduce and modify any goods that they are allocated.

I paused at the last part. There were potential concerns with all of it, but that last part seemed the most concerning. “This section,” I pointed, “means you could take any item I give you and make as many copies or variants as you want.”

“There has to be a significant price for what you’re being given, Corin. And you should know that putting this into text is merely a formality — obviously, if you’re going to make a bunch of sigils for any company, they’re going to reverse engineer them. I’m just being up-front about it.”

I eyed him and the contract. He wasn’t lying, exactly. I would have expected something similar if I was working for Farren Labs. Still, I’d be effectively giving up the sigil design, as well as half of anything else I worked on.

Wait. Half?

“…Where’s the definition of ‘half’ in here? Is it half in terms of sheer numbers of items, like five sigils out of ten? Or is it half in terms of…say, mana capacity used? Or monetary value? What happens if an item has multiple component parts? How is that measured?”

The Blackstone Assassin’s expression shifted for just a moment, losing a hint of the predatory gleam I’d noticed and shifting toward something more…respectful, maybe?

I really hoped that was what it was.

“What an unusual question.” He glanced down at the papers, then back to me. “I don’t believe we did define that term. It seems rather self-evident on the surface, but you raise a salient point — in the realm of enchanting, there are complexities to this, aren’t there? I can’t exactly expect you to hand me half of a golem if you make one. It would rather defeat the point.” He paused, then leaned forward. “What do you propose for a definition?”

I took a deep breath, heart hammering. He wasn’t projecting any sort of killing intent, but I was deeply aware of how close he was, and how easy it would be for my life to be over if I did anything to displease him.

I’d never thought about death by terms of service agreement before, but here we are.

“Let’s say…” I took a breath. “Half of overall expected monetary value if the raw products generated in that time period were sold for revenue, as appraised by a mutually agreed upon third party. And, uh, let’s maybe add a section for third-party adjudication if there’s any sort of disagreement about value or delivery?”

“Done.” The Blackstone Assassin smiled. Then, with a hand, he flagged down a server and whispered in their ear. “That addendum will be drawn up shortly.”

I blinked. “You just have legal scribes hanging out in a tavern?”

“I wouldn’t consider any of our scribes legal, exactly.” He chuckled. “But if you’ll forgive the hint of crime humor, yes. Believe it or not, these locations are frequently used for business negotiation. Not just between people like you and myself, but between representatives of organizations. Making sure such agreements go smoothly is a service the tavern’s organizers offer.”

“You mean, the tavern doesn’t belong to you?” I asked.

“No, no.” He waved a hand. “More like neutral territory between a few of us. You’d be surprised how valuable that is. Now, did you have any further concerns?”

I frowned, pointed out a few more small things, and made revisions. Finally, still incredibly nervous, I asked a direct question. “You’ve been at least giving me the appearance of being direct so far, so I’ll ask plainly. What are the downsides if I sign this?”

“I think you can sort some of those out yourself, but I’ll clarify one thing. Depending on timing, this may require you to leave the Emerald Council prior to certain important votes, which might feel like a significant concession, but without a personal vote, you wouldn’t have much of a direct role in those events. And yes, you could nudge your retainer one way or another, but he’s likely to vote the way you want even in your absence.”

I nodded. I was sure he knew that I wouldn’t actually see skipping the voting as much of a downside. Frankly, training in an area outside of conventional time sounded much more compelling than sitting around and talking to nobles and dealing with more backstabbing. “How soon would we do this?”

“Arrangements would need to be made. You should continue doing what you’re doing back at the tower for now, but if you agree, I will begin the relevant steps, and Elora will inform you when it is time to leave.”

“Before that. Do you have any solutions to the problems my sister is facing?”

“If you agree to this deal, I’ll provide you with some answers right now. But that will be my only bonus — no other major questions.”

I paused. “I’ll tentatively agree, provided that the information you give me is worthwhile and that the specific details of the training itself aren’t absurd. You’d have to agree that I can back out if, for example, Elora asks me to make so many items I’d have to burn out my star veins to succeed.”

“Yes, of course. Neither of us wants you crippled. That’s acceptable to me.” He offered me a hand to shake.

I eyed his hand. “I, uh…”

“The touch aversion? Or simply unwilling to take the risk that I might steal your power?”

“Both?”

“Good. A bit of other free information, then. You should have looked at me with Detect Aura earlier. You’d have figured out I’m a simulacrum, and thus, I don’t have those infamous vae’kes power stealing abilities.”

“That statement is a trap. You might not have those, but I’m confident you could still just do something like what Tristan can do, even if you can’t access your other abilities.”

“Well-discerned.” He put his hand down. “Very well, then. No handshake required. You agree to the terms as spoken, and you plan to sign the paperwork after this?”

“I do, tentatively.”

“Excellent. For clarity, I agree to the terms as well, tentatively. And, as promised.” He snapped his fingers. A book appeared on the table. “Forgive the theatrics.” He nudged the book closer.

I eyed the cover.

“The Blessed Cursed: A Tale of Recursive Rebirths,” I read aloud. “This is about Sera’s situation?”

“Not exactly. Sera isn’t shal. Rather, she either died or came so close to it that Seiryu acted, freezing her spirit and connected star veins. This functioned in a way analogous to stasis magic, preventing Sera’s spirit from leaving her body and entering into the cycle of reincarnation. Essentially, it bought her time. Your own spells — which I’ll admit were quite timely — helped to repair some of the damage to her spirit and shade, which may have helped to make sure there was something salvageable left of her, both in terms of her physical body and shade. Aayara’s work was both overt and subtle, repairing physical damage to the body to ensure that it was usable, as well as manipulating connections between layers of self to allow her to be somewhat functional while her spirit remains frozen.”

That was…a lot to take in. And much more direct than I expected. No sage-like riddles, just…real answers. Or false ones, I supposed, but I didn’t see much motivation for lies at this stage in the process. “…You know a great deal about this. Were you watching the whole thing?”

“No. I reconstructed the events in the aftermath using memory sorcery. Aayara, however, was likely watching from the start. She had more of a personal investment in that affair.”

“Then…” I frowned.

“She could have stepped in at any time, yes. But vae’kes generally do not fight other vae’kes directly. We prefer to act through proxies.”

“She could have helped us escape, at least. Or made Saffron leave.”

The Blackstone Assassin frowned. “Why in the world would she do that, when the entire event was serving her interests?”

“Including her brother’s death?”

“Ah. I suppose that might be a little strange to you, given how dedicated you are to your family. Laudable, I suppose. But our relationships are a bit more complex than that. And Saffron…” He shook his head. “He made poor choices.”

“Poor choices? You’d let a family member die for that?”

“You appear to be taking this more personally than I expected.” He frowned. “Perhaps it would be better to be direct, then. I’ve killed for my family before, including people I would have much rather had as friends. I’ve risked my life for my family on many occasions. Saffron took steps that made him not family to me. Nothing as extreme as the actions of your father, but I will make the comparison because, perhaps, you could see it as a case with enough weight that cutting someone off might be worthwhile. And if you can’t see that, I suspect you should rethink things in regards to him. That man is not worth calling a father.”

“…I don’t want to talk about him.”

The Blackstone Assassin nodded. “I understand better than you might realize. But I offered one specific thing to help you, and we’re meandering into different territory.”

“I’d still like some clarity on Aayara’s role in that event.”

“I won’t say much more, but I will say this — she didn’t hurt Saffron directly. She just put people into play, much as he did, and things fell the way they did.”

“She didn’t take steps to inhibit his abilities? Perhaps his regeneration?”

He blinked, seeming genuinely surprised. “What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t the only time I fought Saffron. In our first encounter, I saw him suffer a wound from Ceris holding a Sapphire-level spell that blew out his entire chest. He walked that off. Even accounting for elemental weaknesses, the damage he suffered from Selys-Lyann and Bright Reflection should not have been as severe as that.”

“…Perceptive of you. I can say that there was a difference there, but it was not Aayara stepping in that caused it.”

“Was it you, then?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It would be more accurate to say that he made a choice that limited his own abilities.”

“What does that—”

He lifted a finger. “Dangerous territory, Cadence. You’re asking me about a subject beyond what was promised, as well as one that could directly provide you with information that could be used against other members of my family. Ones that I still care for.”

“Right. I’ll drop the subject.”

He nodded once, curt. “Wise. Now, in regards to Sera, that book will provide you with more information on possible ways to proceed. They are not your only options, but they are what Aayara was hinting at when she dropped you the shal vial.”

“Would you advise something different?” I asked.

“Hm. Any route forward offers advantages and disadvantages. The shal route offers greater power to her, but with downsides and risk. It is not the route I would take, given her situation, but it may be the wisest.”

“What would you do?”

“I don’t like permanent downsides. I prefer to play things the longer way, slow and steady, accumulating small advantages gradually. In that case, the best way to approach that would be to beseech Seiryu for help directly. Have Seiryu reverse the freezing effect on the star veins and spirit, then immediately utilize some other asset for incredibly powerful healing, before Sera dies again.”

“A Goddess’ Tear?” I asked.

“No. Wouldn’t work at this stage. You need a different type of healing. Ferras or Suzaku might be able to provide it, or someone on their scale.”

“Could you?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Even if I wanted to, healing at that level is not within my abilities. I have an ally that might, off-continent, but…” He shook his head. “The politics wouldn’t be good. You’re better off going through others.”

“Could you ask Elora to have Suzaku help?”

“I could, but that would make it less likely for Suzaku to stand in, if I was the one asking.”

I frowned at that. “Then, does Suzaku know…?”

“That Elora is working with me? Without a doubt. We’re pulling on her from different directions. I can’t say I have a complete model of Suzaku’s motives, but my best guess is that she’s operating under the belief that I’ll abandon Elora eventually, at which point Suzaku will step in and have Elora’s entire loyalty.”

“Is she right?” I asked.

He looked at me very directly, eyes meeting mine. “I have no intention of abandoning Elora, as long as she doesn’t make the mistake of turning on me. And if she does…I don’t leave loose ends.”

I shivered. And, for the first time in several minutes, I remembered — really remembered — who I was talking to. “Right. That…thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, if you’re satisfied?” He gestured toward the papers.

This is probably going to get me killed, isn’t it?

Nursery rhymes about the Blackstone Assassin played through my mind as I signed my name on the page.

Well, as far as poor life choices go, I might have a new peak.

I pushed the papers across to him. He signed his side of it. “Wonderful. I’m pleased we have an agreement.”

In spite of any worries in my mind, he didn’t immediately shank me from across the table or anything. Instead, he simply shifted to get up. “Now, if there isn’t anything else, I suspect your friend is very worried about you, and they serve excellent food downstairs. Most of it isn’t even poisoned.” He gave me a wink.

“That’s…”

“Just a bit of mandatory teasing. For the future, be more careful who you bring with you. Elora told you that you had safe passage to and from for this meeting. She said nothing about anyone else. Mara has not been harmed because it is not in my interests to cause her harm. For the future? Be more circumspect. Your friends will live longer that way.” He tapped the table. “And with that, I’m off. Enjoy your lunch.”

He stood up from the table, then vanished outright. No flash, no smoke — he was just gone without a trace.

Unless one counted the figures on the table in front of us, of course.

Somehow, without my notice, a new figure had been placed on the table. An Arbiter, standing next to the Blackstone Assassin figure he’d shown me earlier.

Me. Standing off the board, but close enough to step onto it if I chose.

Chapter XXV – Family Business

We left the tavern quickly after that. In spite of the food seeming normal, I didn’t get any. Mara, Len, and Elora were waiting, and I was relieved to step out the door and begin the teleportation jumping back to the Emerald Council.

With both Elora and Len with us, we didn’t have any downtime between teleportation jumps. They had enough mana between them to get us all the way back to the tower without any difficulty.

I wondered at the amount of resources that we were taking away from the council by having two high-level teleportation-capable attuned with us. Elora taking the time to grab me for a meeting implied a significant investment, although admittedly, it was the middle of the night. We might be losing sleep, but it wasn’t like Elora or Len were missing any major political events.

I had a lot to think about when we got back.

Mara and I trudged back toward our room, stopping by the dining hall to pick up food to bring with us (she hadn’t eaten at the tavern either).

Patrick jumped to his feet the moment we came through the door. “You’re okay!”

Sera was in bed, but she stirred immediately at Patrick’s exclamation. He put a hand over his mouth and blushed, but the damage was done.

“Who…wha…” Sera sat up straight, rubbing at her eyes. “Oh.” She processed us. “Just you two coming in. Okay.”

She laid back down, then after a moment, blinked, and sat back up.

“Wait. Weren’t you…doing something…oh. The shrine. You okay?”

Mara and I closed the door behind us, then sat down in chairs next to the room’s writing desks to eat.

“It’s a bit of a story. Might keep you up a while.”

“S’okay,” she said. “I’m up.”

She clearly wasn’t entirely up, but we filled her in on the shrine.

As for the other meeting…I wasn’t quite ready to talk about that yet, at least not in detail. Not in a place I hadn’t secured enough. Instead, I simply told Patrick and Sera that Elora had shown up to take me to meet a contact, and that I’d made a tentative deal.

Sera frowned. “What sort of contact?”

“The type we don’t discuss here,” I told her. “It might be safer for me not to tell you at all.”

“You’re doin’ the annoying sage thing, Corin,” Mara pointed out.

“Oh, no.” I buried my head in my hands. “I’ve become my own monster.”

***

We got to sleep not long after that. Patrick insisted on maintaining his watch shift. I couldn’t complain. I was exhausted.

I woke up a few hours later, went to the bathroom, and climbed back into bed…

But before I went to sleep, I realized that I was already feeling better. Not fully awake, not fully recovered, but…better than I had in a long time, in a way that wasn’t fully tangible.

I wasn’t surprised that my surface-level injuries from the shrine had healed — I’d been wearing regeneration items, after all. What was more unusual was that even the more severe hits I’d taken, like the feeling that I’d bruised my ribs, had faded.

And more than that…my mind felt clearer than it had in weeks.

Clearer than it had since Saffron.

I sincerely doubted that a matter of hours had been enough time for the shade weave to undo the damage I’d suffered from overusing the mana, but it seemed like progress was already being made.

If I could shave several more months of recovery time down to weeks…the trip to the shrine would have more than paid off the effort.

But more than that, if the shade weave could repair damage to essence structures and other layers of self that rapidly…

I had to wonder how that would influence my essence growth.

Improving safe mana capacity was often compared to using a muscle. If you pushed yourself hard enough and healed, you’d come back stronger, unless you went too far and hurt yourself. A bit reductive, but the comparison seemed apt enough.

If I healed more rapidly from essence strain, would that influence my growth rate?

I’d looked into that sort of thing for essence-based exercise items, but none of them seemed to be able to heal that kind of strain autonomously. But if a shade weave did, I could see three main possibilities.

First, maybe it wouldn’t change a thing. Maybe the recovery part of the process didn’t influence capacity growth in the way I was picturing, or the particular type of healing I had access to didn’t heal the right structures to cause any change. This seemed the most likely.

Second, it was possible it would help me recover faster and improve my capacity faster. If so, the boon was even more important than I thought.

Third, it was possible that rapid healing would actually hurt my mana growth, by preventing my essence structures from acclimating to the strain. If so, I’d have to figure out a way to limit the shade weave’s impact to prevent it from healing me too fast. Annoying, but likely doable.

I couldn’t test that in one night, but I could run a few basic safe mana tests. I knew the spells to use, I just…wasn’t sure if I wanted to use them.

I don’t want to let myself fall back into an obsessive habit…but taking a new benchmark number after getting power from a shrine absolutely makes sense.

I took a deep breath, then checked my mana levels.

And I was floored by what I found.

My Arbiter attunement’s safe mana had shot up by almost two hundred points.

I checked it several times, but it wasn’t wrong. My safe mana capacity was 722 in my right hand. Twice the requirement for Sunstone. Nearly twice what I’d started with on the train, only a month or so before.

I was so stunned that I didn’t know what to do at first. Naturally, that meant I checked it several times, then checked everything else.

My Enchanter value was largely unchanged, showing only the normal and expected amount of mana growth from time passing. I half-panicked at the strangeness, then got out of bed and tracked down Len.

Fortunately, she wasn’t sleeping yet. I tended to forget that other people did that. She was reading when I knocked on the door of her room.

“Cadence. Haven’t slept yet?”

“A little, but uh, more important thing.” I waved my hand at her, failing to explain anything.

“Meaning?” she asked.

“Oh, right. Words. Uh…my attunement. It’s too good?”

“Too good.” She frowned. “Meaning what, exactly?”

I got to explaining.

Then, eventually, through talking it out and some diagnostic spells, we sorted it out.

“So,” she said, “your father made you overuse your Dianis Point in your right hand before you had an attunement. That didn’t quite reach the point of what we call scarring, but it did cause damage to your star veins. And that damage…”

“Reduced my safe mana capacity. So…it’s fixed now?” I asked.

“Not entirely, but most of the way, and the remainder should heal over time now. That’s quite a shade weave you have. That degree of self-repair for internal essence structures is incredibly rare. That said, you should not expect any other massive surges of power like this one. I don’t detect any other similar damage to your essence. Consider this a single-time boost from healing the damage, much like what your sister experienced when her mana scarring was healed.”

I nodded. “I…didn’t realize that the pre-scarring damage was impeding me that much. Was I really more than two hundred mana behind because of that training? Would I have had two hundred more mana if I’d fixed this sooner?”

“Absolutely not, that would be absurd. It’s more like your efficiency was being reduced by a certain percentage based on the damage. If you’d healed it when you had twenty mana, you might have gotten another…seven or so mana out of it?”

“And my growth rate would have been faster.”

“Potentially.” She shrugged. “You might have trained differently without the damage. I wouldn’t overthink it. That said, there’s something else I noticed that you didn’t mention.”

“What do you mean? More damage?”

“No. The opposite.” She pointed at my chest. “Your spirit bond has grown stronger, too.”

I blinked.

I had totally forgotten to check that. In fairness, not only was it my newest power source, I’d slept like…three hours.

When I pulled up my shirt to check the mana, I found a surprise — my mark had changed visibly, like an attunement mark would. The sword’s blade had thickened, showing an extra line.

And my mana measurement showed a significant boost there, too. I’d gone from 296 mana right before the shrine to 386 — nearly a hundred points, and enough that as an attunement, it would have measured at Sunstone-level.

“Why?” I asked simply.

“This one is even easier to answer. Shade weaves and spirit bonds are closely related. By adding a shade weave connected to your spirit bond, especially one of a compatible type, you’ve improved the bond’s power by a notable margin.”

I nodded absently. “Thanks, Len.”

“Congratulations. Now, go to sleep.”

She shut the door. Which was fair.

I was still thinking about my new power — and how I could improve it further — when I finally fell back to sleep.

***

The next morning, I felt even more refreshed, but absolutely famished. I’d eaten the night before, but I hadn’t eaten much the previous day, so it was too soon for me to be overly suspicious about if my new shade weave was increasing my appetite.

I got something to eat and came back to the room to find Mara sitting up in bed, propped up on pillows, and reaching out with one arm.

Every few seconds, a new shape of solid shadows would appear at the end of her limb. A hand, a claw, a straight blade.

“You’ve picked up on using that new crystal mark fast,” I told her quietly, pulling up a chair to sit at her bedside. I didn’t want to wake Patrick up by talking too loud, now that his shift was over and he was finally sleeping.

“Not what I want to do with it, long-term, but Sera convinced me it was a good way to practice. And I have to admit, it feels good to be able to do something with this arm again, even if it’s not…” She frowned. “It’s not the same as it should be.”

“I hear you. I mean, I haven’t been through the same thing, but I’m still down an attunement, and that feels…”

“Appreciate the sympathy. Let’s not push the comparison too far, though.”

I nodded hastily. “Right. And speaking of not pushing things, keep in mind that using that has a cost, so…”

“Yeah, I know. Trying simple shapes for now, only a second or so here or there. Just trying to build the mark up and practice, I know I can’t maintain anything for long at this level. Hoping that I’ll get to real healing at some point, but it’s still a long way off.”

“And you’ll need to heal the other layers, too, if you want to go that route. Maybe we can try to sneak into the spirit shrine at some point?”

She shook her head. “Not right away, at least. Too much of a risk of gettin’ other people hurt if we try that.”

“What about Suzaku, then? I could—”

She raised a hand to stop me. “I’ll talk to Elora sometime, see if we can make a deal. Might be a multi-step thing, where I do somethin’ for Sera and she does something for Elora, but you’ve done enough. Really appreciate you helping me out the way you did, there, but you’ve done enough for now.”

“…If you’re sure.”

“Gotta look after your sister, too, if you really need someone to help. She’s putting on a strong face, Corin, but she’s not doin’ great. My hurt might be more obvious, but she’s in bad shape.”

“I’ll put more time on that soon. Maybe Suzaku could help you both?”

“Definitely plannin’ to ask. And I’m sure she’s gonna look into Seiryu on her own. But having more minds on it wouldn’t hurt. And beyond that…you need to look after yourself, too.”

“My shade weave seems to be helping already,” I told her. “I think I’ll be back to functional sooner than Deni originally expected.”

“That’s great to hear.” Mara gave me a soft smile. “But I don’t just mean that hurt, Corin. You’ve got other things you need to take care of. Like your mother being here, and whatever is going on with Lute. And, you know, the whole thing where people tried to have you killed.”

“Oh,” I sighed. “Right, all the things I’ve been avoiding thinking about. Yep, there are those, too.”

“Let’s be fair.” She gave me a mischievous grin. “That’s only the start of the things you’ve been trying to avoid thinking about. It’s a part of your charm.”

I laughed. “Glad you think so. But if it’s getting that obvious…”

I pushed myself out of the chair. “Guess it’s time for difficult conversation number one.”

“No,” Sera said. “Setup first. I have an idea. You’ve been given permission to inspect the wards in the building?”

“And make some minor security upgrades, sure. Warren and Len trust me. Why?”

“How much are you willing to stretch that?”

I took a deep breath.

I did not like this in the slightest.

***

“You sure you’re up for this?” Sera asked.

“Nope. Let’s do it anyway.” I gestured toward the dueling room door in front of us. It was marked as in-use.

“You should be the one in front. It makes a stronger impression.”

“I didn’t want to presume—”

“It’s fine.” She shook her head. “No one is going to see me as your equal right now. Not yet. We’ll get to that.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. Here we go.”

I knocked on the door. There was a pause. I couldn’t hear anything from outside, so that just left us waiting awkwardly until, finally, it swung open.

My mother was in there. She wasn’t alone, of course.

She was with one of her own retainers — Miss Anette Shard.

Sera’s mother. Or, at least, the woman who had claimed Sera as her own. I was reasonably confident at this point that Sera and I shared both of the same biological parents, but that had it been concealed from us. Still, there was room for more last-minute twists on that front.

Anyway, Anette Shard was effectively Sera’s mother, but less like an adopted parent and more like a willing participant in a conspiracy.

“Corin,” my mother said, “this is unexpected. I can’t imagine you had the audacity to have me followed, so I can assume this is Sera’s doing?”

“Yes, my sister has always been much better at the social game.”

I saw her react briefly to my choice of words, but I didn’t give her any space.

One thrust, then another, battering my opponent’s defenses. A conversation with family was always that way, wasn’t it?

I hated that he’d taught me that.

“We’d both very much like to talk to our mother.” I gave her a little smile, glancing between both my mother and Miss Shard. “Would you mind if we come in?”

“Laura, if they’re here, then—” Miss Shard began.

“Not with the door open. Come on, children. Let’s have your talk.”

I glanced at Sera. She nodded once. Then, we stepped inside.

***

There was a temptation, of course, to use this particular time and place to discuss the issue of our paternity. And maternity, for that matter. In the case of the latter, very few venues could have been more appropriate.

But while pursuing that subject had a degree of appeal, and might serve the purpose of throwing any machinations they had into disarray, there were more important things we needed to understand.

I shut the door behind me, tapping my fingers briefly on the wall.

Then, I turned to find my mother opening her arms to offer a hug.

She still didn’t understand. That, I told myself, was why I accepted.

It made things both easier and harder.

I let her hug me for a moment, invisible threads trailing as I finally pulled away.

Sera hugged her own mother, carrying other threads along with her.

Then, the conversation began.

“Just how significantly did you sell our country out?” Sera asked.

Mother frowned at her. “Excuse me, young lady?”

I followed her up. They could have no time to consider, to notice. “As you already noted, Sera is very much in her element here. And while I already called you out as a traitor — which you obviously are, given that you’re working with the Dalenos Six — it’s important that we get an idea just how badly you’ve compromised things. Unless, of course, you want to claim you’re some sort of triple agent?”

Mother scowled. “You can’t possibly think that calling me names is appropriate. Even if what you claimed in our last meeting was true, and you battled with Saffron — a laudable feat, if true — you can’t hope to have actually eliminated a vae’kes, even with some pauper boy’s help.”

I rolled my eyes. “Goddess above, even Father was paying more attention than this. That pauper boy is my retainer, Mother, so you’re insulting your own family.”

“Well, that makes two of us, doesn’t it? And you can’t blame me for being somewhat dismissive — if you decided to make a personal friend a retainer, that’s your prerogative, but I sincerely doubt that his value—”

Sera picked that up. “Patrick Wayland-Cadence is the personal apprentice of the current chancellor of Lorian Heights, Antonia Meltlake.”

“Wait. You took a Hartigan apprentice as your retainer?” Mother gave me a confused look. “How is that possible?”

“Well, for one thing, I’m pretty sure I got to him first. But beyond that, I was living with Derek Hartigan for the better part of a year, so it’s not like we have any political difficulties with the household.” I took a breath. “Of course, now—”

Sera interrupted me — wisely, since I was about to say something about Derek being lost in the fight with Saffron. Giving Mother that kind of information would be a mistake; we wanted her to think we were as strong or stronger than we were, physically and politically, not show signs of weakness.

“Now we’re primarily aligned with House Theas,” Sera picked up, “since Elora is, like me, a God Beast Summoner. And Corin and Sheridan have grown very close.”

Mother looked at me, scrutinizing. “…They’re a little old for you, but a match with House Theas would have been a tremendous coup, if things had gone differently. I’d considered pairing Tristan with Elora, you know. House Theas was a reach for us, even then, but with Elora being adopted, I thought she might be more plausible. Now that she’s the heiress, though…” Mother shook her head, then turned to Sera. “You’ve gotten even better at saying things without giving the entire story, young lady, but even if it’s true that they’re growing close, it doesn’t matter. You won’t change my mind on our approach simply by sharing news of House Cadence’s good fortunes. Not even if he’d already put a ring on their finger.”

“It would really be more their fortune to have me,” I said, surprising even myself.

Mother was stunned briefly, before she let out a laugh.

“Well, you’ve developed some your father’s absurd arrogance, at least. Saying things like that is bad enough, but what were you thinking, pretending to be an Emerald and trying to get into this council?”

“Pretending?” I tilted my head to the side. “You know I won my first round, right?”

“Yes, I did hear about that. It is impressive to handle an Emerald-level summon at your level, but I also heard about all the items you were carrying. You must have spent a fortune on that. Sheridan’s money, perhaps?”

I put my hand over my face in disbelief. She must have thought it was a sign of shame, because she went silent for a moment, looking almost apologetic when I finally heaved out a sigh and put my hand down.

“I made those items, Mom. Well, almost all of them. The void sword was from winning a duel in the Tortoise Spire, and I picked up Selys-Lyann in my Judgment. And, admittedly, the belt belonged to Keras, that was an actual gift. But the circlet, the necklace, the shield sigils, the mana batteries? The void emitters? Three of my other swords? I made those.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re serious.”

“Oh, very serious.”

“How much did you spend on the crystals necessary to enchant—”

I let out an audible groan. “Let me show you something.”

I stretched out my right hand, closed. Then, I flipped it over, showing a mana crystal.

“You were holding a crystal?” Mother asked. “I’m not sure I see what your point is.”

I tipped my hand over, dropping the crystal. Then, I flipped my hand over again. Before the first crystal had hit the ground, I had another one in my hand.

Mother blinked. “Where—”

Another crystal dropped.

Another formed in my hand. This time, I went with a different mana type.

“I don’t—” Mother started.

I got fancy, pulling from one of my mana batteries, and made a fire crystal. I dropped it.

“Hold on, Corin, what are you—”

I started tossing mana crystals around the floor, one mana type at a time. Water, air, light, transference. I had threads connected to each battery, and the speed to pull out and shape a point or two of mana into a tiny crystal immediately.

“No, Mother. I didn’t have to spend money on buying a bunch of crystals. I can make as many as I need any time.”

She took a step forward, seeming genuinely shaken, and reached down to pick up a crystal. She turned it over in her fingers. “This is real.”

“It is. Not a strong one, obviously, but if you give me a minute instead of a half-second, I can make something much more impressive.”

“Miss Cadence,” Sera’s mother interrupted, “I believe we’re losing the thread of this conversation.”

Vek.

She knew.

I almost made my move then and there, but a glance from Sera and a near-imperceptible shake of her head warned me off.

I dispersed my threads from Sera’s mother instead. If she could sense them, maybe she could do something with them. I wasn’t taking that risk.

I knew Mother’s attunements — Elementalist and Swordmaster. Unless she had a third one, which was possible but unlikely, I didn’t think she had countermeasures for what I could do.

Sera’s mother…well, she’d been a Mender. But it had been a long time, and if Mother had a second attunement, there was a good chance that Anette Shard did, too.

“Of course.” Mother dropped the tiny mana crystal, as if losing interest, and turned back to me. “Your parlor trick is impressive, and I’d be happy to hear about how you’re doing it at some point. But a demonstration of prestidigitation does not make you more likely to be telling the truth about Saffron — and, even if you think you’re telling the truth, it doesn’t mean you’re correct. Do you have any idea how powerful a vae’kes is?”

“I’d like to think so, since I’ve gone two rounds with Saffron. I’d say he was about as strong as Mizuchi was the first time I fought her.”

We stared at each other for a minute.

“He’s not making it up,” Sera’s mother told her.

“For what it’s worth, I helped,” Sera said with a laugh. “It’s not like Corin and Patrick were there by themselves.”

“Ah,” Mother said, as if finally putting the pieces together. “Was this a venture with House Theas?”

“Some of them,” I told her, which was technically true, “and some of House Hartigan.”

“You shouldn’t take credit for the roles of your betters, Corin.” She shook her head. “You’ve gotten very good at bluffing, though. I’m impressed.”

“I’m not bluffing about my role in that fight. I wasn’t the strongest one there, but I was important.”

“I believe that you believe that.” She gave me a patronizing smile. Matronizing? Is that a word?

Anyway, I hated it.

“You should have watched the memory crystal,” I told her.

“He offered you a crystal?” Miss Shard asked her.

“He did. But I wasn’t about to watch it on a roof, when he could have sabotaged it.” She shook her head. “Or someone else could have.”

Honestly, that degree of paranoia was something I could respect, at least. The first thing she’d said all day I could respect, really.

“I can make you another, if you’ll watch it in here. Miss Shard can watch over you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Mother said. “We’re being too stuck on a single point. The fact of the matter is, even if I believed you about Saffron, it’s irrelevant. He is not the only corrupting force active in Valia. There are other vae’kes. And even if you somehow got rid of them, it doesn’t matter. Katashi isn’t going to change his mind — our government proved it couldn’t be trusted. And thus, with Tenjin absent, he will enforce change.”

“How convenient that Tenjin remains absent,” I told her. “Is that a part of your deal? Communicating to someone who can ensure that?”

Mother’s expression grew dark. “This conversation is over. Leave.”

“Nope.” I shook my head. “This isn’t just an angry talk, Mother. If Katashi keeps marching on Valia, we’re going to lose a lot of good people. Our friends, mentors, fellow students—”

“But not my family,” Mother said, shaking her head. “Because, you see — that was accounted for in the deal.”

She took a step forward.

I stepped back. “Really, Mother? Selling out the nation to keep two children safe?”

“No,” she said. She exchanged a look with Anette. “All three. And if I back out…at a minimum, one of those children will be immediately forfeit.”

“We thought it might be something like that,” Sera said.

“Did you, now?” Anette asked.

I gestured to Sera. “She did, really. Put together what would motivate Mother to make such a move. It makes sense, if there’s another person in play that Katashi can essentially hold hostage.”

“It’s more than that, you know. Katashi is right about the corruption. And even without my involvement, he’s winning this war. You have to see that.”

“I believe that you believe that,” I riposted her phrase, “but you’re only seeing a fraction of the picture.”

I sent a flare of mana through my threads, making them glow blindingly bright.

Mother jolted in alarm, drawing her sword to cut the strings, but they were already vanishing before she finished her movement.

“What was that?” She pointed her sword at me.

“You should have asked about how I beat Dad,” I told her. “Now, if you press me, you’ll just have to learn for yourself.”

I turned my back on her to leave, which felt right.

She’d done the same to me a long time before.

Chapter XXVI – Triple Trial

Sera and I walked back to our room, glancing behind us periodically to ensure we weren’t being followed. I threw a few detection spells here and there, just to be extra cautious.

Finally, we closed the bedroom door and slumped down in chairs opposite each other.

“Well,” Sera said, “that went about as positively as could be expected.”

I wrung my hands in the air. “That was infuriating. How could she not know anything about what we’ve been up to?”

“Let’s be fair, Corin. How much time have you spent researching what either of our mothers has been up to over the last five years?”

I paused, considering.

“That’s different. I’m the child. My mother should have put in more effort.”

“Agreed. That’s absolutely true. But when you’re talking about her lack of research, you’re principally talking about her lack of knowledge of the battles you’ve been in and your magical capabilities, not her lack of knowledge of your dalliances with the Theas family, or with a certain serpent, or—”

“I am not dallying with Satsuki.”

“But you didn’t deny the thing about Sheridan.” She winked at me.

“Ugh.” I put my hands down, reclining in the chair. “Not even getting into that. Fine, yes, you’re right, I’m more annoyed she doesn’t know about my battles and such. Because, you know, if she’s going to be betraying our nation, shouldn’t she at least be educated about our assets?”

“And you’re upset that you don’t rate being considered one of them?” Sera asked.

“That’s…” I took a breath. “I mean, maybe? I don’t know. Maybe that’s part of it. But I think…I think it’s mostly about what happened with Father. That…that should have changed things.”

“It did change things.”

“Sure. For him, obviously. But it didn’t change Mother’s impression of me.”

“Oh, no. I absolutely think it did. It’s just that it didn’t do it in the way that you would have wanted. You have to understand, a second-year Enchanter beating a veteran Shaper sounds absurd. Like he lost on purpose, or that you used a trick, or that Sheridan Theas helped — something Mother probably considered the moment Sheridan came up in conversation. She undoubtedly knew Sheridan was the judge.”

“Wait. Hold on.” I folded my arms. “Did you deliberately give her the impression that Sheridan helped me cheat in the duel somehow, when you brought them up?”

“Absolutely. Based on your previous talk, she’d read about the duel, meaning she’d know about Sheridan’s presence. I know you were ready to use your mana threads on your mother if the conversation took a poor turn, but you chose not to, and that means she likely remains unaware of your capabilities in that area. This is a good thing. She’ll now have reason to believe that you have powerful allies — which is a much better thing for her to think than that you have a personal ability which lets you nullify the powers of attuned. That is the type of surprise that, if she’s unaware of it, you may need later.”

“But she’s with Dalenos. They have to know what I can do, right?”

Sera shrugged. “I’m confident Katashi does, but he has reasons not to let your mother know. If she had a full idea of your capabilities, that might have made her less likely to agree to this deal, whenever it was struck.”

“…And at this point, it’s too late for me looking personally powerful to change her mind. Hm. What about the other Dalenos Six?”

“I don’t have any idea how much Katashi shares with them. They might know, they might not. But this is a political gathering, Corin, and I can’t stress enough how important it is that people believe that you have different types of power than the ones you actually possess. You want them to make the wrong moves. Thinking that Sheridan Theas won your duel for you somehow is the type of thing that could make their faction make mistakes.”

“At the cost of reinforcing Mother’s belief that I’m weak.”

“Corin. That demonstration with the crystals? There’s no way she’s going to think you’re weak now. Especially since you raised it in the context of winning the round of the duel, and how you got your weapons. Nice touch on talking about winning swords in the spire, that makes it more real to her, based on her background. No, she’ll believe you’re capable of fighting people at a high level now. She’ll just believe that it has to do with Enchanter-style preparations and social manipulation. This is mostly true, but wrong in ways that matter to our future plans. This was close to an ideal outcome.”

“…Close. It would have been better if we could change her mind.”

Sera considered that, then shook her head. “No, I don’t think it would have been.”

“What? Why?”

“Because there’s a high probability that if she changes her mind, Katashi just…detonates her or something. And the hostage.”

I shuddered at the thought. “He could still do that.”

“Absolutely, but at this point, her agreement is hypothetically keeping him from taking that action. This buys us time to deal with him, free the hostage, and right the situation. No, she’s best where she is, I think. I mean, in a general sense. I’m glad you didn’t have to trap her in the room.”

I sighed. “Yeah. I’ll…have to go back and change the wards later.”

The changes to the runes on the room had been subtle. I hadn’t told Len what I was doing in advance, which felt bad, but…it had been an emergency precaution. And I wanted to her to have deniability if someone found out. I didn’t want to get her into trouble if she agreed to help me with a plan that would have interfered with the council.

The plan, as I’d imagined it, was that I’d use my mana threads to turn off the attunements of our mothers, drop some supplies from my bag, and then trap them inside the room for the duration of the council.

Then, having flagrantly violated the rules of the council, I would have fled the tower with my friends — probably straight to the Seventh Spire. We were right nearby and Lute owed me a way in.

Fortunately, we didn’t have to make that move quite that soon. I hoped we wouldn’t have to flee the place in general, but if we did, I wanted to talk to Lute about what the spire entailed ahead of time.

And so, with that in mind…I took a break, chatted with Sera a little more, and then headed off to my next difficult conversation.

***

I found Lute in the Valian meeting hall, which was a little strange, given that he was ostensibly voting along with the Dalenos delegation. Or maybe it wasn’t? There were others from foreign countries around, too, presumably for that political stuff I wasn’t great at.

He was, at that time, talking to Mary Hawthorne. I hesitated as I saw them, but Mary waved amiably as soon as she caught sight of me. I steeled myself to approach.

“Corin! Come to wish me luck for my match?” Mary asked. “Or, you know, maybe throw a few more items at me?”

“Oh. Round three. Right. Uh, no to the first? Maybe to the second? Is there something you — wait, are you fighting him?” I looked at Lute.

“We don’t know,” Lute reached up to adjust his glasses, “but, based on prior data, I find it unlikely. I’ve finished my third round, so I’m considered an Emerald now, and technically I’m eligible to be used against her. But it would be very early to consider me an ‘established emerald’. If I am sent out at all, it will likely be deployed strategically to oppose someone who cannot be beaten otherwise. For Mary, they have other options.”

Mary put a hand to her chest. “Wow, Lute. Huge vote of confidence there.”

He offered her an apologetic shrug. “I merely offer the truth, Miss Hawthorne. A power you may be one day, but at this moment?” He shook his head. “Not without your bow or your flower — and now, they are both known strengths. And known weaknesses.”

“Rosie isn’t mine. Neither is Arc—er, the bow. Look, I see what you’re getting at, but you shouldn’t underestimate me.”

“It isn’t like that. Unlike some others, I see the trajectory you are under, Miss Hawthorne. And the hand that guides it. I cannot speak to the others.” He turned to me. “In conclusion, Cadence, you may lend her any assistance you wish and I will not be offended. There is no real risk that helping her will hinder me.”

“Right. I’ll…keep that in mind.” I didn’t mention the fact that, to outsiders, we were supposed to be in opposition to each other in general — he had, as far as others could see, beaten me and crushed my hopes of getting a vote for myself. Saying it out loud would have just made things worse. “Actually, I had something to follow up with you in private, Lute?”

“Oh, certainly. Miss Hawthorne, we can resume this in…what, fifteen minutes?”

“Cutting it close, but there should be time before the match if you hurry.” Mary nodded to him. “And Corin? If you don’t need them…your sigils?”

“You can borrow one, but I won’t walk around without one.” I pulled one of my shield sigils off and handed it to her. She fastened it onto the enchanted robes we’d worked on. She had another shield sigil of her own pinned onto her pants, but that was just a classic school model, much weaker than the ones I used.

“Thanks. If you have time after talking to Lute, come watch me?”

I nodded. “Will do.”

Lute and I walked off after that. I angled us toward a dueling room, but he shook his head.

“Not those. Someone compromised the security runes. The spire’s master noticed, and now the sparring rooms are going to be monitored for the rest of the day. We can just go to my room. I’m staying by myself.”

“In the Dalenos wing?” I frowned. “I’m…not so sure I should be walking in there alone.”

“You aren’t alone.” He blinked. “Oh. Right. I don’t count anymore, do I?”

“Not at this moment. You could…uh, offer me safe passage? On your honor?”

“How very old-fashioned of you. Been reading stories of witchcraft and faeries? My sister loved those. Or…so I hear.” He shook his head. “Yes, fine. I swear on my name that I will give you safe passage to and from my chambers.”

“On your name? Now that’s old-fashioned.”

“It is. And it offers a window to introduce myself more properly.”

“As Ruto Muramasa, rather than Lute?” I asked.

“Oh, no.” He shook his head. “One only uses true names when swearing like this, remember? Ruto Muramasa is my given name, but not my true name.”

He leaned in close to my ear, the feeling of his aura brushing against mine causing my hairs to stand on end.

“I will protect you, Corin Cadence. I swear on my title, the Beast Blade of Knowledge, and my true name — Absolute Victory.”

I took a hurried step back after his dramatic statement. “Huh. So Lute is a pun for both names.”

“Really? That’s your reaction?” He rolled his eyes. “Also yes. Now, come on. I have an escort quest to do, apparently, and no one likes those.”

True to his word, Lute led me to his room. We certainly drew some glances on the way, but I didn’t recognize any of the people looking.

I certainly recognized Emerald-level auras, though. Those were in abundance.

There had to be three times as many people present in the Dalenos wing as we had in the Valian one. That wasn’t a good sign.

I had to wonder if that was because Dalenos was actually producing far more Emeralds than we were…or if they were simply more willing to bring them to the council in a show of force.

Or neither, I realized. Because they might just be poaching Emeralds from other nations, like they did with my mother.

If Katashi is holding my brother hostage, how many other Emeralds might he be blackmailing or controlling in other ways?

Is…that something I could do anything about?

We reached Lute’s room and he let me inside and closed the door behind us. It was similar in style to my own guest room, but smaller, built for a single resident. There were some unusual swords hanging on the walls — things I suspected Lute had brought with him, rather than just adornments from the room. I wanted to inspect them, but I had higher priorities.

“You may check the wards,” he told me. “I know you want to.”

I spent some time inspecting the room’s security, as well as looking for anything that might be spying on us…and physical traps. Couldn’t be too careful.

After that, I took a seat.

“Phew,” he said. “Half the escort mission down. At least you have a decent walking pace.”

“Decent? I’m a transference mage. I have a prodigious walking pace.”

“Maybe by human standards. You should try keeping up with people getting around my tower.” He tilted his head. “Which, I suppose, is why you’re here.”

I nodded. “Well, mostly. I’d also like to see if there’s anything I can do to dissuade you from supporting Dalenos, assuming you end up with a vote.”

“Directly? In conversation? Not so much. If you do pursue the Seventh Spire route prior to the end of this conflict, however, there’s a good chance that you could influence the voting through speaking to my father.”

“Is…that a thing that happens with climbing the Seventh Spire, the way we planned? And is this something we can just talk about?”

He shook his head. “Most people don’t, even if they make it all the way through their tests. I can pull some strings to try to arrange a meeting, either with him or the voice. As for whether or not we can talk about this, yes, now that we have a deal. Provided you keep to the remaining terms?”

“I believe the only thing I have left to do is this.” I reached into my bag and retrieved the Petitioner’s Coin, then handed it to him.

“Right you are. Good to get this part out of the way. I’ve already begun taking the steps necessary to set up your entrance to the spire, which is…a complex matter. You are, after all, under my brother’s protection, sort of, even if he’s skirting close to violating those rules himself.”

“Ah. Meaning that your father isn’t supposed to talk to me, since I’m Keras’ apprentice?”

“Specifically, he’s not supposed to threaten or harm you, but just being in your presence could do that when you’re as weak as you are.”

I folded my arms. “I’ve survived just fine in Katashi’s presence.”

“Don’t assume this will be the same. But your point is taken and noted. In any case, I’ve begun making arrangements. I would suggest that you visit in about two or three years, once you’ve hit Citrine-level.”

That…caught me off-guard.

“I was thinking…closer to now?”

“Yes, of course you were. Humans lack patience. Don’t worry, that’s not an insult — visages, apparently, have a similar failing.” Lute let out a long-suffering sigh. “Some of my siblings are worse.”

“Meaning…Beast Blades? Sacred Swords?”

“Yes. Both of those. Of course, some are more sibling-looking than others.” Lute tapped the sword on his side.

“What’s the difference between you? Why do some of you have human bodies, and not others?”

“That’s not something I’m allowed to share, sorry. You can ask around the spire if you actually get to the right place. For now, though, let me lay some other things out for you.”

I nodded. “Go ahead.”

“First, you’ve bought yourself a ticket into the Seventh Spire. Congratulations. There aren’t a lot of people who can manage to even get close to that point.”

“You mentioned needing the Six Sacred Swords for the Wielder’s Gate. Is that how Keras got in?”

“That’s his story to tell, not mine.” Lute shook his head. “But you’re on the right track. As for the other gates…”

“Similar requirements, I take it? Six of something else, of…oh, six Emeralds? No, that’s too easy.”

Lute laughed. “You might have more in common with Keras than you realize, talking like that. But you’re right and wrong. In ways that are very insightful.”

“Yes, that’s me. Master of insight. In what way, exactly?”

“The Ascension Gate typically opens for six Emerald-level attunements…from different spires. You need at least one attunement from each spire within your group.”

I exhaled a breath. “Yeah. That’d explain the difficulty getting in. But…still…people should have…”

“They have. We’ve had teams from Pending get in. Most of them have not fared well. The Trials of Ascension are not easy, Corin Cadence. And they are designed for seven Emerald-level attuned.”

“Seven?” I frowned. “But only six attunements required among them? That feels a little odd, and most spires only require six people. Is it because it’s the Seventh Spire, or…?”

“If there’s some deeper meaning than that, even I’m not aware of it.” He shrugged. “The practicalities are more important to be aware of. You’ll need a team of seven people.”

“…Okay. I’ll plan for that. But…”

“You aren’t an Emerald. Most of your friends aren’t, either. And while you may be thinking, ‘We can match an Emerald in a fight under extremely narrow circumstances,’ you don’t actually have an Emerald-level mana pool. You’d suffer in endurance challenges, or ones where you don’t have time to even the playing field with prepared enchantments. I understand that you are unlikely to wait until you reach Emerald, as the war may have resolved before you reach that point. But if you walk in here and now? You’ll die. I don’t need the level of precognitive abilities of some of my siblings to tell you that.”

“…I don’t suppose there’s another gate that’s better for talking?”

“There isn’t. The Climber’s Gate for the Seventh Spire is actually worse for you — it doesn’t require as much personal power, but it’s designed for more people, and for a larger number of challenges. The Ascension Gate is closer to a Judgment. Longer than one, but shorter than climbing all the way to the top of a spire. Seven floors.”

“That’s a lot more information than I was expecting, to be honest.”

“I made a deal to keep you from harm until I escort you back to your room. If I gave you bad advice — the kind that could lead you to your death — that would not be delivering on my promise of safe passage.”

I genuinely thought he was stretching that a bit, but given that he was some sort of non-human entity himself, he might have different standards. Maybe he actually operated on inscrutable faerie rules. I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going to complain.

“Anything else you can tell me?” I asked.

“Not too much. The challenges change every time. You will have clearer instructions when you get there — the Voice of the Tower insists on it.”

I felt a pang of something when I heard that name. “The voice of…”

“Every spire has someone that plays that role. Ours…may have reasons to favor you, but they will not save your life if you make the mistake of coming in when you are completely unprepared. You should wait, Corin.”

I took a breath. “I’ll take that into consideration. What if…I brought an escort of six powerful Emeralds or something?”

“While you will not be fighting alone for the entire test like in a Judgment, there is a high chance some of the floors will involve you being alone. You cannot rely on companions to carry you. Similarly, your companions must be able to take care of themselves. You should be especially cautious about this point, Corin. While you might be capable of surviving these ordeals earlier than normal with some sort of enchanting trickery, your friends are not all capable of the same. If you value their lives, you will not take them to the Seventh Spire until you are confident that they can handle Emerald-level threats on their own.”

I wanted to protest, but he was absolutely right. Sera was in no shape for anything alone — and probably couldn’t handle an Emerald without invoking Seiryu even at her best.

Well, or summoning Keras, but that was the kind of trick you could only play once, and it wasn’t a good idea in this situation.

…Or was it?

“Is Keras still in the Seventh Spire?”

Lute looked surprised by the question, but quickly turned his expression more neutral. “I can’t answer that one. Sorry.”

“It could make a difference. If I could reach him—”

“No. It’s a bad move. He needs to do what he’s doing. And even if you wouldn’t be a burden to his plans, it doesn’t matter. You find some trick to get Keras to help you? Great. That works while he’s standing near you. Patrick still dies on another floor when he’s alone.”

I winced. “Okay. I get the idea. I won’t bring anyone who can’t handle it. But—”

“You need to wait. Or find means of getting power faster.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “Such as?”

“Give it a few days. Someone will talk to you, I’m sure.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“Because,” he adjusted his glasses again, “I live up to my name, Corin. That isn’t automatic. I have to work for it, to pay attention to my goals. And getting you through the spire safely would be a victory for me.”

***

True to his word, Lute escorted me safely back to the Valian side of the spire. I went back to my bedroom, filled Sera in on what I’d learned, and grabbed a snack. From there, I met up with Mary and offered her a few more items, which she accepted.

After that, I met up with Len to watch Mary’s final match.

I prepared myself to watch an epic battle. Things did not go as expected.

***

I watched as Mary entered the dueling chamber, readying her bow. Her opponent entered at the same time, but with no weapon in evidence. Not of the ordinary variety, at least.

The man wore long robes with intricate runes scrawled across the surface in two parallel segments, a pair of gem-studded bangles on his wrists, and glasses with thick lenses made of something that looked too dark to be ordinary glass.

From a brief glance with Detect Aura, I could see Emerald-level auras emanating from each of the items, and others besides — a ring he was wearing over a glove on his right hand, and something else underneath the left glove. Two more Citrine-level auras from his boots, or from inside them.

With that many auras…

An Enchanter? Either that, or someone has been absolutely loading him with equipment.

I blinked, then turned Detect Aura off.

“That’s…not Hikaru Hisashi, is it?” I asked Len.

She shook her head. “No. I can’t tell you much, but no, it’s not.”

That was a little nerve-wracking. We’d planned for a specific opponent, but we’d known that we couldn’t be certain we’d estimate correctly. We’d talked about other opponent options, but so far as I could recall, an Enchanter wasn’t even on the list.

I hadn’t actually seen an Enchanter attunement, or any attunement for that matter, but with that many powerful items, it was the most likely explanation. Wealth could certainly explain it, too. Several of the items he wore looked brand-new, like they’d been made just for this match.

I knew it was likely at least a couple Emerald-level Enchanters existed, but I hadn’t seen this one in the Valian meeting area. He looked Valian, at least in terms of his complexion, but that didn’t mean anything — people moved around all the time, and if Farren Labs was any indication, other nations seemed to give Enchanters better treatment than home.

“Miss Hawthorne,” the presumed Enchanter began, “is there any chance I can convince you to surrender, or must we proceed with this ugliness?”

Mary shook her head. “Apologies, sir, but I can’t surrender now. If you’d like to surrender, though, I’m happy to accept!”

“I wish I could. Ah, well. Best to get this over with.” The man pressed a finger on a gemstone on his ring.

Mary tensed, forming a glowing arrow as she pulled back the string on her bow, but didn’t loose it right away. She was, it seemed, waiting for her opponent to make the first move.

An honorable choice, maybe. But against an Enchanter, the wrong one.

A metallic rune-etched cylinder appeared in mid-air next to the Enchanter. I only got the briefest of glances at the runes on it as the item appeared, but with my level of familiarity, that was enough to notice something missing.

Capacity runes.

I realized what was happening in a moment, rising to my feet in alarm, but Mary was multiple rooms away.

Accelerated Computation.

My mind raced through options. Could I call off the match for a rules violation? Activate the borrowed return circlet she was wearing?

I didn’t have a mana string attached to it, but if I could reach the anchor—

Not enough time. Nowhere near enough time.

The Enchanter didn’t even have to move — he just flicked a finger toward the cylinder, a burst of transference hurling it in Mary’s direction. I ran for the door.

“Corin, what are you—” Len’s voice asked.

I turned back toward Len — and the viewing device she was using — for just a moment. Just enough to catch what was happening out of the corner of my eye.

Not that I needed to see it. Everyone in the entire spire must have heard and felt what happened next.

When I’d first learned about enchanting, I’d heard stories about failed items without proper capacity runes. They’d been a little exaggerated — a single Quartz item without a capacity rune wasn’t likely to blow up a whole building when it exploded. I’d more or less proven that when I’d deliberately set off Jin’s shield sigil.

At Carnelian-level, taking out a building with a failed Enchanting experiment was much more likely. Fortunately, most Enchanters knew what they were doing at that point, which meant that if any item was missing a capacity rune…

Well, that was probably deliberate.

And when an Emerald-level Enchanter pulls out an item without a capacity rune on it, presumably from an extra dimensional storage item that kept it in stasis, there was an obvious explanation. One that any other moderate-level Enchanter would guess, but that your average attuned would be unlikely to read in time.

“It’s a bo—”

That’s as far as I managed before cylinder flashed and detonated with an explosion that could have leveled a small town.

The entire tower shook as the walls of the room blew outward, wards overloaded by the sheer power of the explosion. The tremor, combined with the thunderous roar of the explosion shattering stone and metal, made me stumble as I watched the viewing device in horror.

The explosion had been near instant, too fast for Mary to react. I thought that I’d seen something just before the flames and shrapnel reached her, a glowing figure that manifested in the way of the blast for just an instant—

But if that image had been real, it hadn’t been enough.

The image of the room was hazy, but I could see both Mary and her opponent lying in the debris of the chamber, covered in blood.

***

I rushed to the door. Len was faster, presumably through teleportation. She got in my way, raising a hand. “Easy, there. Watch.”

I followed her gesture, tense. As I watched, two figures appeared in blown-out remains of the chamber — one next to each combatant.

“One of the advantages of having dozens of Emeralds under one roof. Lots of teleportation, lots of Emerald-level healing.”

“Emerald doesn’t always mean the best at their job. What if—”

“You can’t go in there, Corin. This is a very delicate situation. That strategy was…” Len shook her head. “Unorthodox. There will be debate about if it was fair play.”

I tightened my hands, then forced myself to take a breath. “…Mary’s life is in a delicate situation right now. I don’t care about the politics, I need to help her!”

“Maybe you could help her a bit. I don’t doubt it, given the degree to which you’ve demonstrated a variety of eclectic talents. Even so, there’s a process for this, and you’re not assigned as a medic. It’s stretching the rules to let you watch the match at all. You should not know about these fights, let alone walk into the room right after they happen.”

“That isn’t even a room anymore, Len.”

“Yes. And if you’re aware of that, and walk into there, it’s going to be clear you were watching the match — which you shouldn’t be — and people may look into whether or not it was fair for you to be stacking Miss Hawthorne with magical items prior to each match. As it stands, if she comes out of this alive, there’s a good chance she’s earned her vote. You could lose her that if you interfere.”

I clenched my hands. “I’m more worried about her surviving than a vote.”

“Reasonable, as far as friends are concerned, but also not your decision to make. And, at this point, it’s irrelevant.”

She gestured to the viewing crystal. The bodies — alive or dead — had been teleported out of the room. People were working to repair the walls.

“Will they be able to help her?” I asked, my shoulders slumping.

“I think you’re vastly underestimating the degree of the healing capabilities of Emeralds. Yes, she’s badly hurt, but she will have the best of care.” She frowned. “But that isn’t what this is really about, is it?”

“I…” I looked back at the devastated combat chamber. “I’m tired of seeing my allies getting hurt and being unable to do anything about it. I saw what was going to happen, but I wasn’t fast enough.”

“I don’t even know if a visage could have reacted quickly enough to stop that.”

My expression hardened. “Then I have to be faster than that.”

Len shook her head sadly. “Unrealistic.”

“Maybe. But…even if I couldn’t have been there fast enough, if I was a better healer…”

“Even if you were a full-time healer, and the best of the best, there would be situations where you couldn’t help the people you wanted to. Cases like triage, where there are higher priorities for healing. Even right now, there are probably Valian healers being forced to save their healing for people who are more injured, more important, rather than being able to work on the people who need it.”

“I hate that.” It was a more direct response than I usually made, but from the heart.

“I do, too. But in life, politics and priorities often get in the way of pursuing what we want.” Len waved, causing the display of the now-empty room to vanish. “If it helps, I can ask if she wants to see you once she wakes up.”

“Can you…keep an eye on her? And let me know if an extra hand might be helpful?”

“No,” she said simply.

I blinked. “Why?”

“Do you think I’m going to sit around all day and watch a single injured person being treated? I do have other things to do, Corin. Important things. And while I’m trying to be gentle here, because I can tell that you’re dealing with something bigger than this, Mary being injured is normal and expected.”

“But what if the healers can’t be trusted. If there’s sabotage—”

“I can appreciate a good dose of paranoia, but she’s being assigned a Valian healer. And yes, Valia has infiltrators, of course. But do you think that they’re going to blow their cover on something as minor as this?”

“Given that someone was willing to blow themselves up to try to take Mary out, I’d say that’s possible. And that,” I said, “isn’t the first time I’ve seen that methodology.”

“The train,” Len mused aloud. “I did hear about that. You think it’s connected?”

“I think it’d be a pretty significant coincidence if it’s not.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Surprises with explosives are not an uncommon strategy for dealing with high-level attuned.”

“But self-destructing with one?” I asked.

“…Unusual, yes. Certainly indicates an unusual degree of fervor. Or perhaps something being held over them, to be willing to make such a move.” Len considered it. “That still wouldn’t imply the healers are suspect.”

“No, but it’s a vulnerability. And if they’re willing to go to such extreme measures to take someone out…I think this is about more than just Mary getting a potential vote.”

“It could be, but I still don’t think you need to be concerned at this phase. First, there will be more than one healer in the room. Second, any deaths would involve a major investigation, and Diviners can see the past of a room. Anything overt would be caught. Third, most healers aren’t assassins. Even if one has been compromised, their ethics would make it very unlikely they’d act on their own to just off someone for reducing our vote count.” She shook her head.

“Can you just show us her room?” I asked.

“Yes, I technically can. I absolutely won’t, though. It’s one thing showing you a fight that’s designed to be observed. Spying on a medical procedure that’s in process? That’s very different, Corin. You didn’t get her permission for that. And while I have a certain degree of oversight as the Master of Ceremonies who is running much of this affair, even I shouldn’t be spying on people at random times and places. If you had any clear reason to suspect sabotage at this specific moment, I’d consider it, but…” She shook her head. “No.”

“Then I’m going to go ask someone else.”

“Corin, wait. Aside from Master Constantine, there isn’t really anyone who—”

“Where do I sign up to be a healer?”

“That’s a clever thought, but it wouldn’t get you in right now. They’d have to test your competency, which would be an involved matter.”

“Then what can I do?”

“If you genuinely want to help?” Len considered. “Let’s go see Rose. Tell her what happened, since she couldn’t watch this. Then, you can offer to help Rose gather any of Mary’s personal things she might want while she’s in a recovery room. That, at least, might get you in to see Mary a little after.”

I nodded. “You think they’ll keep Mary in a recovery room, rather than just sending her back to her chamber?”

“With injuries like those? Absolutely, she’ll be under observation for a while. That’s a good thing, though, Corin. Don’t overthink it. It doesn’t mean she’s in significant danger — barring anything truly unusual, she’ll be just fine. But any time someone gets knocked out for more than a few seconds, it’s wise to keep them under observation for a day or so, just in case.”

“Okay. Let’s go talk to Rose, then.”

“I’ll take you to her, but after that, I’ll go take a look at the damage to that room. You’ve convinced me that it’s worth investigating if there was anything strange about that cannister. Investigating the damage is within my responsibilities and won’t look suspicious.”

“Can you look into who that was fighting her? See if there are any suspicious connections?”

“Yes, but the damage to the room comes first. It’s easier to perform divinations immediately in the aftermath of an event.”

I nodded in understanding.

Len was true to her word, taking me to Rose, explaining things briefly, then going to investigate the damage.

Rose had a grim look as we headed to their rooms. She handed me things to shove into my dimensional bag. I found myself taking the role that Len had just played for me only minutes before.

“She’ll have Emerald-level healers. She’ll be fine.”

Rose pointedly didn’t look at me, instead going through drawers and pulling out clothes. She paused when she pulled out a black shirt, lifting it and pulling it to her chest.

“…Kuro should have been fine, too.”

***

They let us in to see Mary about four hours later. She was, apparently, in surgery for most of that time. While some types of healers had ways of removing shrapnel magically — like teleporting it out of someone’s body — using healers to keep someone stable while shrapnel was surgically removed was still the most common and generally preferred method, at least in Valia.

Mary was…not in great shape.

But she was alive. It had come very close.

She was asleep when we came in, the healers using sleep magic to keep her unconscious during the surgical process. There were visible stitches still on her face and her right arm. I couldn’t see anything else with the blankets covering her, but she presumably had other stitches, too.

It seemed a little mundane as far as wound treatment went, but when I asked, one of the healers explained that some of her internal damage was bad enough that flooding her with excessive life mana would potentially cause side effects during her recovery. Thus, they’d needed to keep it to a minimum.

I didn’t take that as being perfectly accurate, given my suspicious mind, but after a couple hours of reading medical books while Mary slept, it sounded like it was plausible, at least.

I felt a pang of relief when Mary’s eyes finally opened.

It was a slow thing, her shifting subtly in her bed. Rose woke up a moment later, having fallen asleep in a chair next to the bed, holding Mary’s hand.

“R…Rosie…” Mary stammered, blinking. “W…what?”

She looked around the room.

“Easy, hon. Doc said you don’t wanna to move your neck. You…had a bad fall there, Mary.”

“I…did?” She blinked. “I don’t…I don’t remember. Where…” Her eyes caught me, briefly widening. “C—Corin?” She pulled up her blankets a little more, looking self-conscious. “What…what are you doing here?”

I blinked, then processed the fact that most of the clothes that she’d been wearing were in a bloodstained pile on a nearby chair. She was presumably wearing some sort of hospital-gown-style garment under the blankets.

I turned away. “Sorry! Wasn’t expecting to, uh…”

Rose glanced between us, then made the first smile I’d seen on her face in a while. “Wow. Yer both turning redder than my name. Just goin’ all-in on double knockouts today, Mary, aren’t cha?”

“Is…that what happened?” She turned to Rose and frowned. “I can’t remember.”

“Doc said it might take a bit. Might not get it all back, like when you fall asleep and can’t remember what you were thinkin’ of right before.”

“Oh.” Mary took a breath, considering. “Does it count as a win, if we both got knocked out?”

“They’re…still talkin’ ‘bout that. For the moment, you just need to rest up, hon.”

Mary nodded, then winced. “…Wow. You weren’t kidding about the neck.” She fidgeted awkwardly. “Can you, uh, give me a second to change, if you’re staying, Corin?”

I mumbled something incoherent and went for my bag.

“That’s why he’s here. Other than checking on you, obviously. Poor thing was trying not to sound worried about you. I think he might like you, Mary.”

“I am right here.”

“And it’s so very sweet of you,” Rose told me. “Now, start handin’ me stuff, then give us a few?”

I went through the awkward process of unloading Mary’s items into Rose’s hands without ever looking in Mary’s direction. Rose put the items down elsewhere in the room, then came back to me until I’d finished unloading. Then, they kicked me out.

It was a solid ten minutes before they called me back in. Mary was still under her covers, but I could tell from her collar that she’d changed her top, at least.

“Corin,” Mary said, a faint blush still evident. “I have the items I borrowed laid out over there.”

I nodded mutely, picking the items up and putting them away.

“Rosie says the shield sigil and robe enchantments might have helped save my life. So…thank you, Corin,” Mary said, sounding like she was holding back tears. “And for visiting me. I won’t forget the favor I owe you. Or, favors, really.”

I mumbled a “you’re welcome,” still awkward about looking in her direction. I heard Rose chortle off to my side and mutter something about a “couple of blushing babies” or something.

Shortly thereafter, one of the doctors came by and kicked me out for a while as she checked in on Mary. I was allowed back in a half hour or so later, but only briefly.

“I’m told I should be getting some rest,” she said, shuffling uncomfortably. “Can I ask you for another small indulgence?”

I blinked in surprise. “Sure. What do you need?”

“Rose is going to watch me right now, but after what happened with Kuro…I don’t want to be stuck alone here at any point. And she’s going to have to sleep. Can you talk to your sister and help arrange for watch shifts for me?”

“You got it.” I let out a breath. “Glad to help.”

“Thanks, Corin. You’re one of the good ones.”

I didn’t think it was as simple as good or bad. But I wanted to help her, and I hoped that would be enough.

***

I went to find Sera, as expected. We set up watch shifts to rotate with Rose and keep an eye on Mary.

“You did well,” Sera told me. “Len may have been underplaying it, but there’s enough of a chance of foul play that I think that keeping an eye on Mary is a good idea.”

“Do you think Len was misleading me?” I asked.

“No, nothing like that. I think she’s just trying to teach you that you can’t do everything at once. Whenever someone close to you gets hurt, you have a habit of dropping everything to jump on the new problem. It’s sweet, but it’s not always productive. The council starts tomorrow and we have other things to do.”

“Less so, since I didn’t win my match.” I groaned.

“Don’t underestimate the value of being a Cadence among politicians. Or an Arbiter. Or a Wielder of a Sacred Sword. And, while you might not have a vote, your retainer does. You have a lot of cards to play, Corin. You’ve already been doing a good job of leveraging them, but there’s more to do.”

“There’s always more to do,” I said with another groan.

“Heavy is the burden of our majesty.” Sera gave me a wink. “Now, back to business. Tomorrow is a big day. We’re going to be meeting the Emperor of Edria. You’re going to need some new clothes.”

Chapter XXVII – The Dalenos Six

“Now announcing the entrance of Lord Corin Cadence, esteemed head of House Cadence, Wielder of Selys-Lyann, Apprentice of Keras Selyrian, and Arbiter of Katashi.”

Len’s voice rang out across the massive gathering chamber. The room was an unfamiliar one, a massive circular chamber that took up most of an entire floor of the colossal tower. Much of the floor space was left open, while large sections were designated to color-coded seating for each delegation. There were no fewer than five separate bar areas for drinks, as well as tables with food, and an entrance to a larger kitchen area.

An attendant standing near the door — a female karvensi dressed in a pristine black-and-white checkered suit and tie with an elegant top hat — gestured for me to follow her toward the Valian section. “This way, if you would, m’lord.”

I strode in with more confidence than I actually felt, following the woman to my assigned seat. I was deposited right next to Sera, who was already seated.

We were, it seemed, entering in order of status, lowest to highest. I was the highest of my immediate group, but lower than Elora, who still had an empty chair set aside for her at the table.

There were other empty chairs next to hers, too, for Emeralds that were absent. I knew without looking that if I read the card to her right, it would have the words “Derek Hartigan” on it.

It hurt too much to think about.

I took a breath, looking around. Mary and Rose had seating cards near us, but they wouldn’t be attending this event. Mary was still in recovery. Rose was on another shift watching over her. I’d be checking on Mary myself soon.

The names continued, some with passing familiarity. I’d met some of them in my youth, back when Mother and Father still had both hosted and attended parties with other nobles. We’d never been particularly high in status. I wondered if I’d see Cecily’s sister or parents — they weren’t Emeralds, as far as I was aware, but they had enough status that they might have a role.

And, of course, there was the whole thing with Yunika still being in contact with Tristan. I had questions about that if she made an appearance.

But while the next person was familiar, it wasn’t Yunika.

“Now announcing Baron William Kent, Baron of Kentshire and the surrounds.”

Mara visibly tensed, almost standing up. Sera reached over and grabbed Mara’s good hand immediately, giving it a squeeze.

“He’s not at our table. I checked. Not an Emerald, either. Just here as part of an entourage.”

That didn’t do much to help her tension.

I asked a foolish question. “Rupert isn’t here, is he?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Sera said. “His father is angling for a council seat back at home, and given the number or recent vacancies, he might manage to get one. Don’t overthink it, though. He’s a small man and a small factor in all this. Not worth thinking about.”

“Sweet of you to say, but I still have to think ‘bout if he’s worth punchin’.”

Sera squeezed Mara’s hand tighter. “The answer is ‘yes’, Mara, but the place isn’t here.”

“You guys want some drinks? Think we’ll be sitting here for a while, with all the announcements,” Patrick offered, clearly trying to ease the tension.

“Sure, let’s go.” I stood up.

“Please, let a retainer do some retaining. Or whatever the word is for that. Let me take your orders.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re the one with a vote. You might be the most important of us today. Surprised they already have you in here.”

“Complicated structure,” Sera explained, “but proxies aren’t considered the same as actual Emeralds in the greeting structure. There’s a point system—”

I leaned closer, interested. Sera laughed.

“Of course that’s what would get you engaged in this. I’ll see if Len can show you point values later. For now, drinks?”

“I’ll take an orange juice,” I told Patrick.

Sera and Mara got alcohol. I suspected they both would need it. When they eventually returned to the table, Sera had another young woman with her. It took me a minute to place her.

“Susan the Spectre?” I blinked.

“I’d say ‘in the flesh’, but you know, I’m still technically ghost.” She spun around a little.

I stared at her. She looked completely solid.

Seemingly noticing my attention, Susan lifted her cup. “Watch this!” Susan took a drink.

Nothing unusual happened. She just…drank the liquid.

“Usually it falls right out!” she told me. “I still can’t taste it, but it’s a big improvement.”

I glanced at Sera. “How’d you manage that?”

“You remember that talk we had ages ago where I talked to you about imbuing a summon with mana of other types to change their properties?”

“Like a fire ogre?” I asked, frowning. “Making a ghost fully corporeal seems like a step beyond that.”

“It is,” she said. “But I’m a lot better than a Quartz-level Summoner now. Anyway, Susan, go mingle and have fun. I’ll probably have more specific orders later.”

“You got it, boss.” Susan gave Sera some kind of weird salute, then vanished into the crowd.

More names were announced, some familiar, some strange. Until finally, after what felt like hours, we reached some of the ones I’d been bracing for.

“Now announcing Elora Theas, Heiress of House Theas, Emerald Summoner, Council Member of Valia, and Sacred Summoner of Suzaku.”

Applause followed, just as it had for many of the Emeralds that had preceded her. We stood to await her at our table, then after she seated herself, she gestured for us to sit back down.

She was the last of the Valian delegation to enter. After that, Caelford followed in the sequence, with Farren and Clarent coming in toward the end of that sequence.

Most of Edria came after that, but with notable omissions — neither Hannah nor the emperor were announced.

Were they absent, or was delaying their announcement some sort of strategic or political statement? I wasn’t sure.

Either way, when the Edrian delegation concluded, the final group was announced. The Dalenos delegation.

I watched as numerous people that I had no idea about were announced, including dozens of Emeralds. Too many Emeralds. If we faced them on the battlefield…

Maybe she was right about our odds.

My hands tightened as I heard her name.

“Now announcing the entrance of Laura Lyran, Head of House Lyran, Emerald Swordmaster and Elementalist, Survival Match Champion, Middle-Marked of the Tortoise Spire, and newest member of the Dalenos Six.”

I stood and watched my mother enter the room. She didn’t follow a guide to her seat — she waited near the door.

The rest of the Dalenos Six followed shortly thereafter. Only four members had been present earlier in the gathering, but a full set of six were announced, along with their attendants.

This was a show of force. And as they entered the room, I saw each and every one of them turn to look straight at me.

***

I didn’t physically recognize most of the Dalenos Six, but I knew many of them by reputation. With Dalenos’ theocratic structure, they didn’t have a conventional senate or similar government structure. Instead, the priesthood held absolute authority.

The Dalenos Six represented that authority in a physical way, with the legendary group representing a significant portion of the priesthood’s might. They weren’t necessarily the strongest combatants in the nation, although every member likely ranked highly among them. Instead, they represented a combination of different types of power — religious, military, and political.

The threat of running afoul the Dalenos Six wasn’t purely that they’d wipe you off the planet with sheer magical might, even if they could do that. It was more that they didn’t have to — a few words from them in the right places and you could be executed for heresy or simply disappear in the middle of the night without explanation.

Naturally, I wasn’t especially happy when I saw them looking in my direction. I took a single deep breath and braced myself, but fortunately, someone else attracted their attention. Their greeter had whispered something to one of the members of the group, who had snapped her fingers and gestured for them to all follow. My mother’s eyes lingered on me while the others turned away, a warning in her gaze.

“That was intense,” Patrick said. “What was with them all staring this way?”

“It’s what Corin represents, dear,” Elora explained. “He’s been personally marked by Katashi. He is, in many respects, the greatest threat to one of their forms of authority here.”

“But they’re going to their table now,” Patrick said, “so we’re in the clear, right?”

Elora gave him the kind of smile that sent a chill down my spine. “No, dear. We’re just later on the dance card.”

I continued to watch the Dalenos Six, wondering what else might have attracted their attention. They’d followed their greeter to their table, and now they were gathered around Takeshi Tetsurin, the swordsman who had fought Mary in the Emerald Trials.

They grilling him because he lost? No, that’s not important enough to draw the entire group. Maybe something to do with his father? Is he one of the ones in that group?

The whole group had been introduced at the door, but I’d been kind of distracted and hadn’t caught all the names. “Is Takeshi Kurita over there? I didn’t hear his name called.”

“Ah, so you’ve noted the weight of his absence as well.” Elora dipped her head to me in a sign of respect. I hadn’t exactly noticed what she’d attributed to me, but I wasn’t going to dispute the extra points I’d apparently earned. “One wonders what could keep him away from such a gathering. He’s one of the strongest Emeralds they have, both physically and politically, given his ties to the archduke.”

“Of course,” I said, as if I’d already known all that, “and if his son was challenging for Emerald himself, that implies Tetsurin doesn’t hold his father’s proxy vote. Which means he either planned to be here, or he handed off his vote to someone else — someone outside of the Dalenos Six, given that they seem to be blindsided by this.”

“Ambushed?” Sera asked. She pulled a map out of a bag at her side, unfolding it on the table, and then drew a line with her finger between Lake Selden and the tower. “It’s a fairly short distance between Dalenos territory and this spot. They have the easiest time getting here.”

“But with their armies marching, resources may have been taken away from specific cities, creating vulnerabilities,” Mara mused. “Do we have people counterattacking right now?”

Elora lifted her glass and took a sip, then shook her head. “That’s not the sort of thing we speculate about in public, my dear.”

“Right. Course not.” Mara took a look at the map again, frowning. “Suppose we’ll probably find out later.”

“Indeed. For now, I’ll need to look into a few things.” Elora stood up. “Do behave yourselves, children.”

As she left the table, we continued to study the map quietly for a time, exchanging whispered theories. After that, Sera excused herself to mingle with other tables. Patrick and Mara left soon thereafter, off to talk to Lars about something.

That left me all alone, at least briefly. But, looking around, I wasn’t the only one in that position. Eventually, I steeled myself and stood for a talk of my own.

***

I approached a distant figure. The only one at the gathering who looked even less comfortable than I did.

The master of the tower himself, Warren Constantine.

I approached him, catching the direction of his gaze. The target was obvious enough. He was staring at Anabelle Farren, his one-time employer. If she knew, she was at least acting oblivious, chatting amiably with her stoic bodyguard.

“You okay?” I asked him.

“Hm?” He startled slightly, then turned to me, seeming to refocus. “Ah. Corin. I…hm. That’s a complicated question, isn’t it?”

“Don’t I know it.” I gave him a half-smile. “In the general scheme of life, it’s complicated, but right now…you seem a little distracted. I imagine it must be tough to have Farren here, given your feelings about her.”

“I’ve never been much good at concealing these things.” He shook his head. “But there’s nothing for it. I can’t host a political event with specific prerequisites for entry and then disallow someone as prominent as she is, regardless of any reservations I have.”

“I’m…not an expert at running these events, but I’m pretty sure you can exclude people. Obviously there would be political ramifications, but if it would make you more comfortable…”

“Let me rephrase. Yes, obviously I could exclude someone, but if I’m allowed to hold grudges and leave people off the list, it would invite others to push for similar treatment of their old rivals and enemies. We wouldn’t get anywhere. No, for the summit to work, I need to bear with the burden of her presence.”

“That’s mature of you.” I nodded.

“Oh, it is, in theory. In my mind, though, I can’t tell you the number of ideas I’ve run through that are less mature.” He offered me a brief smile. “But I won’t make any moves like that. Both because of the ramifications…and because I can tell that she’s controlling herself, too.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “What do you mean?”

“You have only seen her on her best behavior, I suspect. The large man there, with the strange aura? He isn’t for her protection, like most people suspect. He could play that role easily enough, should true danger arise — but Farren is a power in herself. She rarely needs any kind of shield from mundane harm. Instead, his true role is much like what dear Len has helped me with for the last few years. He gives her stability…and when she comes too close to the monster she could be, he reins her in, by force if need be. His presence at this event is a testament to her belief that she needs to be restricted. This is wise of her. If she had taken such precautions when we were younger, perhaps we never would have…” He shook his head. “Never mind. That’s personal.”

“You sure? It seems like it’s burdening you.”

“It certainly is, young Cadence, but as many as my problems with her may be, she deserves a degree of discretion. I would need her permission to talk about certain elements of our falling out — personal things that go beyond the mere suspicions of what she could do with attunements. I will reiterate the dangers of working with her in a general sense, which you will obviously ignore. But it would be unfair of me to speak of certain other things. Things she confided with the understanding of privacy. So far as I know, she has maintained the same rules in regards to me. I can respect that, even if I do not trust her.”

I nodded in understanding. “Could…I get you to talk to her? Mend things? With everything happening, unity is so important. Even if you have trust issues—”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but no. If I was a younger man, a better man, perhaps I could let go. But I am not ready, and I suspect I’ll be buried long before I could take that step.”

“I could help, if you can’t do it alone.”

He turned to me. “I’m tired, Corin. When you get to my age, there are only so many things you have the mental space for in each and every day. This event? Here? This will cost me. For months, years even, I will feel the burden of it. I know I am pushing beyond my limits, and not in the idyllic sort of way that heroes of legend exceed their boundaries. My mind and body are tearing at the seams. You are kind to offer, young man, but I can bear no further burdens today.”

He took a breath, then shook his head and looked away from me. “But you have made it obvious I am paying entirely too much attention to my old grudges, at least, and I should be helping play the part of the host. Len carries what burdens she can for me, but I still am the master of this place. At least for a little while longer.”

He patted the table where he was sitting, then stood up. “I am going to go do a round of chat with some important and annoying people. You’d be welcome to come along, if you’d like. Maybe you’ll even learn a thing or two.”

“I’d like that.” I nodded, helped the old man stand, and together, we walked and talked to many of the gathered people — other than, of course, from the people we probably needed to talk to the most.

***

When I finished my circuit around the room with Warren, I took the time to visit the one person who he’d refused to see.

Farren turned as I approached, blinking at me. “Have you finished the first array already? I’d like to get a deployment test going as soon as possible, before she arrives.”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told her.

“Oh.” She paused, wrinkling her nose, and seemed to reset. “What’s our current status?”

“I was thinking about offering you a deal related to a recent invention of mine. It…isn’t an array? I don’t think?”

“Oh. Oh, we’re so far behind! Okay, okay. Uh, the answer is ‘no,’ for now, I think.” She turned to Nakht. He gave her a thumbs-up, but his stoic expression never changed. She turned back to me. “Right. It’s a ‘no.’ For now.”

“I haven’t even told you what I’m working on yet. And, like, you’re obviously doing some kind of precognition, or time stuff, or you’ve just got spies and cold reading going on, but I think you’re going to want to hear about—”

“You can’t manufacture the sigils en-masse until we get you to the right place, which will be soon,” she told me, eyes narrowing. “I mean, soon is a stretch, because in terms of your relative timeframe, it’s complicated, but we’re going to at least discuss the specific deal very soon, and we’ve both got a couple refusals in us, and…” She stood up. “I need a drink. Drink?”

“Sure?”

“Great.”

I got another juice. She slammed some kind of hard alcohol, then laughed, stopped our conversation without continuing it, and went off to dance with a woman in Advanced Armor.

I didn’t bother to follow her.

As strange as she was, I believed her — we’d talk about it later.

And, perhaps more importantly, I had another reason to pause and reconsider my actions.

Len stood up near the entrance, announcing the arrival of two more guests.

“Now announcing Hannah Meiyer, the Imperial Executioner, Master of Four Crystals, and First Consort to the Emperor.”

That…last part was very new, and explained a lot. I heard a murmur of surprise from the crowd before the applause started, then Len silenced everyone with a clap of her own hands as Hannah stopped to stand near the door, extending a hand toward the open doorway.

“And,” Len continued, “for our final guest, I am pleased to announce the coming of Edria Song, Emperor of Edria, Bearer of Six Emerald Attunements, Ruler of Southern Kaldwyn, and Chosen of the Goddess.”

Chapter XXVIII – Unlikely Allies

The air itself seemed to tremble as Emperor Edria Song stepped into the room. I felt my fists clenching as I watched her enter, my heart pounding in my chest.

She was a tall woman, nearly six feet in height, with her long black hair pulled back into a single tail. Rather than formal garb, she wore a suit of crimson-lacquered plate armor, the shoulderplates accented by massive solid crystals protruding from them and glowing with light.

Well, that’s one way to increase something’s enchantment capacity. Looks incredibly cumbersome, but…

Detect Aura.

Edria Song’s aura was nearly blinding — six overlapping Emerald shrouds, accented by a bright blue aura from the armor she wore…and something even more startling.

An aura of diamond-white from the curved sword on her hip.

I’d seen unusual auras on a few occasions, mostly from Keras and the silver sword that he wore.

Diamond-white was new, exciting, and a little terrifying.

But perhaps I should have expected that from Diamantine, one of the Six Sacred Swords. The aura color was more literal to the namesake than I would have guessed, but it made a degree of sense.

And now, at least, I knew that aura colors could have any number of meanings — including purely artificial ones. Sadly, I couldn’t get a close enough look at the sacred sword to know if it had a “make impressive colorful aura” function.

Then again, maybe that was for the best. If I saw Diamantine unsheathed, something had likely gone terribly wrong.

The emperor’s imposing presence had an effect on the crowd as a whole. Unlike when any other person had entered, I saw an entire segment of the room — the Edrian delegation — fall to their knees in her presence.

And, perhaps more oddly, a wide variety of people from other nations did the same.

Was I supposed to do that? I frowned, not knowing the proper etiquette, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have even if I’d been expected to.

“You may rise, my children,” Edria Song’s voice called out across the room. “And be at ease. I come among you as one of the council today, not as your supreme ruler.”

I wasn’t sure that phrasing lent itself toward putting the audience “at ease,” but nevertheless, people rose and returned to their positions. The feeling of pressure in the room seemed to ease up, too. Still, all eyes were on her.

The emperor glanced across the room, as if taking in her own territory, and then gave a single nod to Hannah. “Shall we?”

Hannah took her arm and they began to cross the room toward the Edrian delegation.

She never looked my way, not as far as I could tell. She wasn’t paying me direct attention. Nevertheless, I felt like she was watching me. Purely paranoia, maybe, or perhaps I was tapping into a sense that I didn’t fully understand just yet.

In any case, it was an unsettling feeling.

She was the most powerful human on Kaldwyn — and I owed her a favor. I wasn’t looking forward to figuring out what that favor would be.

For the moment, I had a more immediate concern.

When the emperor sat, the Dalenos Six rose.

Not to approach her.

No, my brief reprieve was over. The Dalenos Six moved to the center of the room to stand atop a platform for speakers. I had a good idea of what was coming next, and I felt my stomach sink at the knowledge of what I would have to do.

***

The Dalenos Six were varied in their raiment, but each wore among the finest arms and equipment I had ever laid eyes on. There were so many Emerald-level auras among them that it was hard for me discern what was coming from each individual person and which ones simply came from their nation-beggaring attire.

The clear leader was a woman wearing long white robes not dissimilar in style from Mary’s, but much finer, with several layers of cloth embroidered with bright blue stitching. She wore a massive diadem of some kind of white metal that was adorned with dozens of blue stones, the largest of which was the size of a fist. The top of the diadem was designed to resemble a scale, one of the classical symbols of justice in many cultures. She had to walk perfectly straight to avoid one side or another of the scale tipping, which was probably a significant challenge, but I never saw either side dip as she approached the stage.

Len closed the doors to the room and approached. “The Emerald Council recognizes Hierophant Setsuna Saito, leader of the Dalenos Six and voice of the visage Katashi.”

Wasn’t the Hierophant a different Saito? Oh, right, that one died. Must be a family thing. Ah, nepotism.

I didn’t get much longer to think about it or analyze the group around her.

“Thank you for the introduction, Master of Ceremonies Len, of the House of Hastings.” The Hierophant didn’t bow her head as one might normally do to acknowledge someone, perhaps presuming it was unnecessary with her greater status…or maybe she just couldn’t with the gigantic hat she was wearing. She turned to address the crowd. “I also offer my thanks to the Emeralds of all nations who have come to attend this summit. The visages are pleased by each who has earned such status, and each nation shows their strength with the presence of their power at this gathering.”

Which was a very nice way to say “we have more Emeralds than you here, and therefore we’re stronger and the visages love us.” Ugh.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as she continued.

“This gathering is perhaps the most important of our lifetimes, for we are faced with unprecedented corruption in one nation among our number.” She turned toward the Valian gathering. “It pains me to even speak of such a horror, but I must. For many years, the government of Valia has been a puppet to our greatest enemy. And while each nation has long carried the responsibility for excising the corruption in their own ranks, recent events have proven this impossible. The visage Tenjin has been assaulted by his own people, his location cunningly hidden by the supporters of the Tyrant. And so, it is with a heavy heart that the visage Katashi has taken on a great burden — he must purge this corruption and govern Valia in his sibling’s place.”

There was a murmur across the crowd. It was one thing to make these kinds of accusations privately, or even through usual indirect propaganda mediums. It was another to brazenly speak in such a way in front of a council of the strongest people on Valia.

She was inviting a challenge.

I wasn’t the first to accept it.

Edria Song stood up from her own place, all of Edria’s delegation rising around her. “What is your evidence of this corruption?”

“The council recognizes Edria Song, Emperor of Edria,” Len chimed out.

The Hierophant turned toward Edria Song. “Those that can be easily shown? The absence Tenjin from his place, the sealing of the Serpent Spire. The lawlessness in Valia, the brewing of their civil war.”

“Visages have been known to disappear for a time.” Edria Song cast a glance toward the Caelford delegation, who remained silent, but stirred at the implication. “What evidence is there of the role of our great enemy in this?”

“Behold.” She clapped her hands.

One of the other Dalenos Six stepped forward, a large woman in heavy armor, then tapped a ring on his hand. It glowed for a moment—

And then a body dropped unceremoniously to the ground at her feet.

I felt my heart hammer in my chest as I took in the sight of the corpse. I heard a few voices of outrage as the body fell on the stage — that was both insulting and a little gross — but the point was obvious.

The dead man wasn’t familiar to me, but he was shirtless, and everyone could see the strange black tattoo on his back. The mark that resembled a single dark crystal.

I’d always thought it was absurd that any organization of thieves or assassins would physically mark their members. It seemed like a huge security problem. Maybe they only marked their expendable members, to make it so that the people without marks could slip through security due to the absence of such a well-known mark?

Either way, this tattoo’s implications were obvious.

“This man, Henry Wynam, was a member of the Valian council of Lords. And now, all can see that he is marked by the Son of the Black Stone.”

Not exactly the usual title, but the translation was clear enough.

The Emperor simply shrugged. “The distastefulness of dropping a body on the stage aside, how do we know that this tattoo is genuine, and not something that was marked on his skin after his death?”

“Your physicians are welcome to analyze the body at any time. We will also provide documents for your inspection. For now, we note your discomfort with this display, and the body will be removed.” She snapped her fingers and a pair of servants lifted the body, taking it off the stage. I wasn’t sure where they were bringing it, but I couldn’t focus on that when more important things were happening.

If everyone bought into this line of argument, the legitimacy of the claims, our nation would be in a bind.

Elora must have realized the same, of course. She exchanged whispers with a finely dressed blond man next to her, who stood up next.

“Hello!” the blond man called out, drawing all eyes. He stood like a duelist, a classical rapier on his left hip, a jaunty hat on his head in spite of being indoors, and jeweled rings — some enchanted, some not — on his gloved fingers.

Len turned to him. “The council recognizes Lord Alexander Theas, dual-attuned, semi-finalist of the Tournament of Sacred Swords.”

“Lord Theas,” the Hierophant said. “The visages acknowledge the standing of your house. You have something to say?”

“Absolutely.” He nodded fervently. “See, I’m a competitive person by nature, and if we’re comparing body counts…”

He took a few steps forward, then pressed on his own ring.

Bodies fell to the ground in a circle around him.

“I won’t be easily matched.”

The playful way the statement was made was, of course, secondary to the revelations of the bodies themselves — all in similar states to the ones the Hierophant displayed.

Including, of course, the presence of obvious Blackstone tattoos on their backs.

Several people balked at the sight. At least one actually threw up — these corpses were closer to the crowd, after all. And while they had been preserved magically by whatever Alexander had been storing them in, fresh dead bodies were still bodies.

The Hierophant gazed at the bodies and frowned. “I fear I am uncertain about the purpose of this display, Lord Theas. You seek to admit that some among your people are complicit?”

“Oh, quite on the contrary.” He walked over to one of them, grimaced, then kicked the body over. As the body flopped from back to front, the implication was clearer.

This was a man with features more commonly associated with Dalenos, not Valia.

Obviously, people moved between nations, so physical ancestry wasn’t a reliable metric of allegiance. But Alexander Theas addressed that quickly. “I’m certain some of you recognize this gentleman, as he once stood among your own number.”

Someone let out a hiss. “That’s not possible.”

Len turned to the Dalenos Six. “The council recognizes Kagero Suzuki.”

The man hesitated, as if he hadn’t actually wished to speak, then clapped his hands. A shade version of him appeared next to Alexander Theas, who immediately gripped his sword, but the shade took no hostile action. It simply knelt by the body, grimaced, then vanished.

Kagero Suzuki turned, then whispered to the Hierophant.

She spoke again next. “We have been informed that this man went missing several years ago, during a meditative sojourn to the Unclaimed Lands after his retirement.”

Alexander Theas shrugged. “Well, he’s not missing now. Surprise. It turns out that Dalenos’ people are susceptible to corruption, too. Do we need another summit to talk about their corruption?”

“Your tone is not appreciated.” The Hierophant glared at him.

Alexander shrugged. “Neither is your invasion of our sovereign territory. I’d call that a draw, but I think we both know that tone is a little less important than your unwarranted movement of forces.”

“While we acknowledge that even former residents of Dalenos can fall to the tricks of the enemy, there is a clear distinction between your distasteful display and our own evidence. Your visage remains missing, and our visage speaks for the necessity of cleansing your land.”

I took a deep breath. That was, unfortunately, my cue.

I stood up. My friends stood alongside me, which I hadn’t expected, but the support was appreciated.

“About that,” I said, my throat feeling suddenly dry.

Len turned to me, looking almost as nervous as I felt. “The council recognizes Lord Corin Cadence, of the House of Cadence, Second Disciple to Keras Selyrian, and Arbiter of Katashi.”

The Hierophant turned to stare me down, then gestured.

My own mother stepped forward. “My son,” Mother said, “it brings me great joy to introduce you to my fellow members of the Dalenos Six. We have heard of your great dedication to our visage, Katashi, and that he has acknowledged you with his mark.”

“The council recognizes Lady Laura Lyran, of the House of Lyran and the House of Cadence, Dual Emerald, and member of the Dalenos Six.”

I nodded. “Thank you both for the introduction. I’ll get straight to the point. I’m Katashi’s Arbiter. I’ve heard not a single word from him in regards to verifying the necessity of this attack.”

One of the six stepped forward. A large man, bulky in a way that I didn’t usually see in Dalenos types, with massive biceps and a tremendous pole weapon of some kind on his back. “That speaks only to your lack of knowledge, Arbiter. And your inexperience, for raising such a trifling matter as if it is a pertinent issue.”

Len chimed out. “The council recognizes Lord Admiral Norima Tetsushi, Dual Emerald, and member of the Dalenos Six.”

I gave Norima a quick look up-and-down. “No, I think it’s pretty important. After all, he took over the Serpent Spire some time ago, and he spoke to me just outside it less than a year ago. With the visage’s resources, clearly he would be capable of sending such a message easily, either in-person or through any number of his servants. And so,” I turned to the Hierophant, “I dispute your core claim.”

“You will not speak to the Hierophant with such a tone,” Lord Norima responded. “It is beyond disrespectful.”

I stood back up to my full height. “You’ll forgive me if manners are not the greatest of my concerns while you rally armies against my homeland under a false pretext.”

“Ah,” the large man said, “and so you show your inexperience. For we are, in many respects, your best hope of surviving the days that come.”

“Do you mean that on a national scale, or was that just a personal threat?” I asked him.

He gave me what I might charitably call a mysterious smile. “Who can say?”

“Lord Admiral Norima, you should be aware that you are speaking not only to the Arbiter of Katashi, but the current lord of a dueling house,” Sera said patiently.

“The council recognizes Mistress Sera Cadence, of the House of Cadence, Ascended Attuned, Invoker of Seiryu.”

I heard a loud murmur at that claim, but I ignored it.

I finally processed the man’s name as Sera spoke it. I’d kind of missed the specifics during the introductions of the Dalenos Six — my mind was elsewhere — but I knew who Norima Tetsushi was by general reputation. A combined Wavewalker and Soulblade, he was another recent addition to the Dalenos Six, and had the reputation for being absolutely brutal in battle.

We had something in common, strangely enough. He was a rare case of a dual-attuned with two different sources of transference mana. That meant that, given his obvious and unconcealed Emerald aura, I couldn’t count on beating him in speed like I might with some other Emeralds. If anything, I would be at a rare speed disadvantage if it came to combat.

“Is that so?” Norima asked rhetorically. He stepped down from the platform where the rest of the Dalenos Six stood, approaching us directly. “I was under the impression the Head of House Cadence had fled, as a coward, in the aftermath of a duel. Who knew that a young boy had taken his place?”

Patrick stepped forward, hand going to the sword on his hip. “You will silence your insults or they will be silenced for you.”

Norima took a step forward, looming over Patrick. “Your move, then, retainer.”

Patrick met his eyes, bracing, and—

“My apologies for my son and his retainer’s behavior,” Mother said, drawing our eyes as she approached as well. “They are new to these gatherings and out of their depth.”

“Not at all,” Norima said, stepping back. “The retainer shows appropriate deference to his master. Avenging an insult such as mine was the right course of action. Of course, if he had drawn, he would have died where he stood.”

“Of course,” Mother said. “Now, with that established, can we discuss why we are here?”

“Hmpf.” The massive man folded his arms. “Say what you wish to say, foreigner.”

“Corin,” Mother said, “Hierophant Saito has recognized your attunement, and she will tell you what your place will be in this.”

“Tell me?” I gave her an unimpressed look.

“We acknowledge that you were given the mark of Katashi,” the Hierophant said, remaining on the stage in the center of the room, “and thus, you are a representative of him here. This means that you are permitted to join my retinue, and you may be permitted to spread the word of Katashi’s grace in this difficult time.”

I froze up a bit.

This was not the kind of angle I had expected. Nor was I prepared for the crowd that was gathering around us, beginning to watch and murmur. The tension in the air was obvious.

Sera spoke quickly in the absence of my response. “We are, of course, grateful for your magnanimous offer, Hierophant Saito,” Sera said with another inclining of her head, “but with full respect to your station, the Arbiter is not a part of your hierarchy. He reports directly to Katashi himself.”

“The Arbiter is inexperienced and in need of guidance,” the Hierophant explained, her smile soft. “And I am Katashi’s voice.”

“In your nation, that may well be true,” I said, “but I was anointed by Katashi in Valia, not in Dalenos. While I am, of course, honored by your offer and would gladly listen to any advice you have to offer, I cannot join your retinue or speak at your command. It would not be appropriate as a Lord of Valia, or as Katashi’s voice within Valia itself.”

“A regrettable decision,” the Hierophant said. “If you have chosen not to believe that I hold Katashi’s authority here, perhaps a demonstration is in order?”

“Hierophant, please forgive my son’s words—”

“Enough.” The Hierophant raised a hand. “If Lord Cadence wishes to pretend at having Katashi’s authority here, he must deal with the consequences like any other.”

Mother tensed. Apparently, she had some idea of what was being threatened.

But she didn’t help further. She’d given me a few words, but that was all.

In the end, she turned away. I was on my own.

“What consequences?” Sera asked. “This is an international gathering. Fighting is not permitted outside of duels. You have no authority to force him to do anything.”

“I would not violate the rules of this gathering with fighting, Miss Cadence. That would not be appropriate for one of my stature,” the Hierophant insisted. “But you are wrong about my authority. I will show you.”

I braced for whatever she was planning, a dozen combat plans in my mind. But she hit me at an angle I wasn’t expecting.

“If you believe you speak for Katashi, shall we test that? Come and see.”

Then, with Mother and the lord admiral at my sides, I approached the stage, leaving my friends behind.

A crowd formed around the stage as many stood to see what was happening, my friends among them. Sera reached for me before I stepped onto the platform, but I shook my head at her and took the final step alone.

I stood across from the Hierophant as she smiled beneficently and raised her hands toward the sky. “Corin Cadence, as the Hierophant of Dalenos and Voice of Katashi, I hereby strip you of your place as Arbiter. Behold and despair, for you are an Arbiter no longer.”

There was a burst of incandescence that flared from my right hand, visible in spite of the glove covering it. The crowd gasped. People reached for weapons. Sera, for once, had no idea what to say.

But in spite of being surprised by this move, it wasn’t as though I’d never considered the possibility.

And so, when my hand flashed, I understood exactly what was happening — and what was not.

I took my glove off, as if to inspect my loss, made a couple hasty mental moves, then stepped forward and slapped her across the face with it.

“Nah.”

She flinched, stepping back, a hand raised to her face in absolute disbelief. Not just at the audacity of being struck, no.

At the Arbiter symbol that shined Emerald on my hand.

“You have insulted me and my authority, and as is my place, I challenge you to a duel.”

“Th…that…” she sputtered.

“Enough. There will be no duel,” Norima said. “You have no standing for such a challenge. She is the Hierophant!”

I turned to him with a quizzical look. “Is she, though?”

I snapped my fingers.

And, with a hint of mana flowing through my hand, the Hierophant mark on her forehead snapped right along with them.

I heard gasps of horror from the crowd. Several people stepped back.

Norima unslung his polearm. “What have you done, heretic?! How dare you assault the Hierophant?”

I turned to him. “I did no such thing. After all, the former Hierophant already tried to remove my attunement with her authority. You didn’t consider that assault, did you? My actions mirrored her own. I merely showed that my authority exceeded her own. I will, of course, still be happy to entertain the duel that I offered her.”

The former Hierophant’s hands balled into fists. “This…this is not over.”

“I wouldn’t imagine it is. Your attunement is, though. At least,” I offered her a glance, “until you offer to use any authority you retain to tell your forces to withdraw from Valia’s territory. If you do that, I’d think about returning it.”

“This is an outrage!” Norima reached for the cover over the top of his polearm, pulling on the string to unleash the blade. He raised the blade with terrifying speed, stepping forward to bring it down. I moved, but there were people pressing in all around me — it was too hard to dodge. I stepped right into someone, stumbling as the blade flashed down, and…

“Weight of the World.”

Norima Tetsushi slammed into the ground in an instant, his knees audibly cracking as they slammed into stone. He let out a scream of agony, struggling against the force, but the pressure did not abate — it redoubled. His upper body fell forward until his forehead was touching the ground in a mockery of supplication toward a woman who strode forward in resplendent crimson armor, the crowd parting at her approach.

“You have raised your weapon without cause in a diplomatic gathering, Norima Tetsushi,” the Emperor of Edria proclaimed. “I have judged you guilty, and your sentence is execution.”

The dual-attuned sputtered, his Emerald aura flaring as he struggled against the power holding him, but he only managed to raise himself an inch.

Emperor Edria Song’s boot pushed him back to the ground as Hannah Meiyer approached, the Royal Executioner ready to carry out her emperor’s will.

“Emperor,” the former Hierophant came closer, bowing her own head in a gesture that seemed to surprise everyone, “I concede on his behalf. We will withdraw.”

“Will you, now?”

The Emperor of Edria turned to me.

“Out of respect for the master of the tower,” I said, “I will permit their withdrawal. In exchange for an appropriate wergild, of course — to be gifted by the Dalenos Six to the Emperor on my behalf, as thanks for her timely intercession in this matter.”

“Acceptable.” The Emperor nodded. The pressure of her technique vanished immediately, leaving Norima Tetsushi red-faced and breathing hard, but alive.

The remaining Dalenos Six helped drag him off the ground, then retreated as a group.

My mother gave me one final glance, seeming uncertain for the first time, before leaving the room.

But for once, my family wasn’t my main concern.

Emperor Edria Song turned and gave me a smile. “Lord Corin Cadence, Arbiter of Katashi, Wielder of Selys-Lyann, and Apprentice of Keras Selyrian.” She reached out with an arm. “Attend me.”

You know what? Why not?

I took the emperor’s arm and, with our retinues following us, together we strode confidently out of the ballroom.

***

There were advantages to escorting the most powerful human on the continent, even for someone who was as touch-averse as I was. For one thing, the attention the room was giving both of us would definitely give any actions I took at the council later on additional political weight. I was, apparently, important enough to warrant the emperor’s direct attention.

On the minus side?

Gigantic shoulder crystals. They couldn’t have been comfortable for her, but they definitely were less comfortable for anyone else who was trying to walk next to her. I had to keep my arm at a weird angle just to avoid jabbing myself on one of them.

Anyway, we left the room. Len silently stepped out of the room behind us, exchanging whispers with Sera, and then falling into step behind our group.

I saw her wave to someone else, who took her place at the door.

Thanks, I said silently. If things went badly with this meeting, I didn’t think my immediate friends alone would have the strength to save me.

I wasn’t at all confident Len could, either, in a physical sense — but as the Master of Ceremonies, she wasn’t the type of person that even the emperor would want to offend at this kind of gathering. It wouldn’t be polite.

I was surprised when we stopped only a dozen steps outside of the room. The emperor released my arm, turning to face me. “I have only just arrived. Where would be best to speak?”

I considered that. “My personal chambers have extra security wards, but going there could be seen as a significant statement. I’d recommend one of the dueling chambers. They’ve been recently upgraded with anti-divination measures and the political implications would be less inappropriate.”

“You’ve more awareness of your actions than I might have believed,” she said. “Taking the lord of House Cadence straight to a dueling chamber within minutes of my arrival is a wonderful headline for the papers. Lead the way.”

I took her to a familiar chamber. We all piled inside, then marked it occupied.

Len snapped her fingers after we came in, producing a variety of seats. No one sat down.

“You may be seated,” Emperor Song said. “If there is to be any actual fighting in this room, it will be later.”

As if to address her point, the emperor took her own seat first. Others quickly followed. I was pointed to one directly across from her, where I sat, willing myself to look directly at her.

“So,” Emperor Edria Song began, “I believe I owe you some congratulations.”

I blinked at her. This was not how I imagined our conversation going.

Perhaps noting my confusion, she continued. “When I first heard about the potential threat that you posed, I was skeptical. It has been many years since anyone has managed to do me harm. I’m certain you are aware of the incident I speak of. I have grown much stronger since then. Imagine my surprise when dear Hannah told me that Selyrian had an apprentice, and that said apprentice was demonstrating abilities that were unusual.”

“I have been known to come up with a trick or two,” I offered with a weak smile.

“I see you have your master’s talent for understatement,” she observed. “Though he would have found a way to make it sound like he was bragging more, wouldn’t he? In truth, I was skeptical that Selyrian would take any apprentice at all, until I saw what you just did.” She leaned forward, eyes bright emerald. “And now, I believe that if anything, my consort understated your abilities. Tell me, Lord of House Cadence. You struck down the Hierophant’s attunement. Was that one of Selyrian’s secret techniques? And could you do the same to me?”

To my side, Sera tensed. I could see her wanting to say something, to warn me, but knowing that any action she took would potentially make things worse. I was being addressed directly and I needed to make my own response.

So, I kept it simple. Honest. The way Keras might have.

“No to the first. As for the second…probably, but I’m not sure.”

She watched me carefully for a moment, everything seeming to go still around us. Then, finally, she laughed.

“Wonderful.” She stretched out her arms. “Exactly what I would have hoped for. I won’t ask you to try it on me right now — it would make Hannah very upset if I were to ‘casually disregard my security and that of my nation to see how his technique works’ — but perhaps later, during a less important time.”

“We’ll have to see what the future brings,” I offered noncommittally.

“Yes, of course. Perhaps a more traditional sparring match later? You should be aware that I have a keen interest in seeing the styles of my fellow wielders.”

I glanced to Sera, noted a slight hint of a suggestion in her eyes, and turned back to the emperor with a nod. “Of course. It would be my great honor to do so, if time and circumstances permit.”

“Excellent. I shall look forward to it, provided we can find the time. Now, we should talk about how you just declared war.”

I blinked. “…Pardon?”

“Against the theocracy,” she said, as if it was obvious. “I was warned that you might not understand certain things, given your inexperience and apparent…seclusion?...for several years. That said, you’ve demonstrated at least a rudimentary understanding of how these gatherings work and the people in play, so I can only assume you understand that you cannot strip the attunement from a religious leader without extreme consequences.”

I nodded slowly. “I understand. But we are already at war with Dalenos, so…”

“Ah. You’re thinking of this on a national level. That’s understandable. What I mean is more personal. As Arbiter of Katashi, you were already a risk and threat to them. Now, you have seemingly demonstrated that you have greater favor from Katashi than his high priest, which is a tremendous statement. You must understand that they will do absolutely everything in their power to discredit and kill you now.”

“Is that really a change?” I asked.

“A valid question. If we assume you were never going to bow to their authority, the change is minimal — merely a difference in timetables and resources. You should not sleep in your own room tonight. You very likely should not sleep at all.”

“We could offer him protection,” Hannah said. “We’ve already been seen interceding once.”

“A fine suggestion,” Edria Song said, “assuming that Lord Cadence would like to owe us another favor?”

“I would be happy to owe you another favor,” I said, over Sera’s protesting looks, “but for something a little different, if you’d be willing to entertain it. That said, it’s a pretty big one, and I’ll understand if you refuse.”

“Oh? What sort of favor would the scion of House Cadence request from the Emperor of Edria?”

“I’m not overly worried about being assassinated for my move against the Dalenos Six. I will take steps to protect myself, of course, and we can discuss coordinating if you’d like. But there’s a greater issue that I truly do not believe I can resolve on my own. Virtually no one could.”

“Now you have my interest. What is this thing you speak of?”

“We’re in the opening moves of the war between Dalenos and Valia,” I told her. “And Katashi has yet to take the field himself, or so I understand. But if he does, and chooses to fight directly…” I shook my head. “I would not be able to stop him from destroying cities in a single gesture.”

Edria Song’s eyes narrowed at me. She clearly understood what I was asking for. The rest of the room was silent from the audacity of my request, but she seemed to be actively considering her reply.

“You wish for me to take up arms against a visage on behalf of your nation.” It was not a question, but a statement.

“I do,” I told her.

“Impossible,” one of her entourage interjected. “Our emperor is the one who stands closest to the sky, but even she cannot be expected to tear down the heavens herself. The visages are unassailable. They cannot be fought. No more than one could fight an earthquake or a hurricane.”

Perfect.

I was worried that Edria Song wouldn’t give me an opening for my play, but I could always count on the fact that someone would call out my audacity.

“Actually, you’re wrong,” I said to him with a hint of a smile, then turned back to the emperor. “Because the day that I met him, Keras Selyrian made Katashi bleed. And, to repay the first favor that I owe you, I’d like to offer to show you how.”

I retrieved a memory crystal from my bag, lifting it between us.

The Emperor of Edria gazed at the crystal with abundant desire. “Show me everything.”

I handed the crystal straight to the emperor. She lifted the crystal, frowning briefly at it, and then handed it to the older advisor at her right. “This looks unusual. Inspect it.”

The man bowed his head deeply. “Of course, my liege.”

“It’s just—” I started, but she raised a hand. I stopped.

The older man concentrated for a moment, then handed the crystal back to her. “The object is safe, my liege. It is an…unusual crystal, as you stated. It is a copy of an original crystal that does not contain the full contents.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Trying to give me a filtered version of events? You can speak now.”

I was prepared for this, at least, although I hadn’t expected her to notice right away. “Not precisely, your majesty. The original crystal that Keras gave me was a combined type, which showed two entirely separate scenes. Two memories from different occasions. The first portion, which is included in this copy, is a battle between Keras and Katashi. The second is simply Keras speaking to me, containing a personal message, as well as some sensitive information. My copy only includes the first portion.”

“Elder Li?” she prompted the older man.

“Lord Cadence’s explanation is consistent with my observations, my liege.” He bowed his head again. “I do not believe the core memories themselves to be altered. It’s a limited segment of the original. If I may, however, this does not mean that the original memories are necessarily real. Memories can be fabricated, and surely even if someone could fight a visage, we would have observed the results. Continents have been reshaped by less.”

“It happened within the Serpent Spire,” I explained. “During my Judgment. If you’d like the full context of that, I would consider that another favor, due to the private nature of much of what occurred there.”

“You are aware of what happened during your own Judgment?” the emperor asked. “Surely, you are aware that it is not permitted to restore those memories.”

“I am, your majesty. Mine were never lost.”

She frowned, eyes narrowing. “I do have questions, but they can wait. Provided it contains what you say,” she turned the crystal over in her hands, “I will accept this gift as being equal to the favor of access to our crystal shrine you were given.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” I nodded. “Would you be willing to entertain my request?”

“Let’s see what’s in this crystal of yours first. Voice activated?”

I nodded. “Just say ‘view’.”

“View.” Her eyes closed.

We all just sort of…waited awkwardly. Elder Li glared at me. Several other members of her retinue did the same. Hannah, it seemed, was more restless than anything else, constantly shifting from foot to foot.

On my side of the room, Sera simply sat with an intense expression, her hands folded in her lap. There was no sign of the chill that usually affected her — she was clearly holding back any visible indications of it. Mara cradled her arm with the missing hand against her chest, half-hiding it.

Patrick looked deeply uncomfortable, which probably had to do with the whole heresy thing I was getting up to by even showing this. Also possibly with the fact that we were making agreements with the nation we were raised to expect a conflict against.

In retrospect, maybe I should have been less comfortable, but it had been the sort of week where I had to just keep climbing or I would fall. Looking down certainly wouldn’t help.

When the emperor’s eyes fluttered open, she frowned for a moment, took a breath, then said…

“View.”

Her eyes shut again.

I opened my mouth to say something, then shut it.

The second time she reopened her eyes, Hannah gently put a hand on her shoulder. “My liege, have you found the gift to your satisfaction?”

The emperor’s reply was more to me than to her. “This is real?”

I nodded. “Absolutely real.”

“And you say that this happened in the Serpent Spire?”

I nodded. “It did. Not much after Tenjin’s disappearance.”

She seemed to take that in. Then, she put her hands together in front of her, holding the crystal. “I accept this gift.”

The gem shattered between her hands.

I blinked. “That’s…”

“If you have other copies, you should destroy them. Who else has seen this?”

I fidgeted nervously. “Not many people, your majesty. I would prefer not to—”

“This is dangerous forbidden knowledge. You are aware what Wydd does to people with this sort of knowledge? To nations with this kind of knowledge?”

I gave her a chagrinned look, then said, “If it comes to that, I’d be willing to offer an extra crystal or two if you fight Wydd for us.”

The emperor looked at me for a moment, her expression neutral, and then, in a quiet voice, she said, “There are more crystals?”

“Not of Katashi. But there are some others you might be interested in — like, for example, the fight between Keras and Akadi. Another with a Child of the Tyrant. If you’re willing to fight for us?” I paused, looking to Mara, who nodded. “I might even let you borrow the box.”

***

We continued the talk for a time, discussing and negotiating.

In the end, I didn’t get an answer out of her right away. In spite of the emperor’s obvious interest and unshakable authority, she wasn’t actually going to make a decision about something on the scale of fighting Katashi — or Wydd, or any other visage — on our behalf without actually consulting her advisors in private.

I left the meeting with one favor repaid and nothing lost but an expendable copy of half of a memory crystal. Not bad, all things considered.

But I really hoped she would take the deal.

In the meantime, I’d been so focused on that part of the conversation that I’d sort of forgotten the first thing that brought us to talk to her, but fortunately, others didn’t have that problem.

As we left the room, Len gestured for us to follow. “Follow me. We’re not going straight back to the audience chamber.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because the emperor was correct in her assessment about reprisals by the Dalenos Six and we need to plan ahead.”

“Oh.” I blinked. “That.”

Len led us to our room, then instructed us to take our things. I shoved stuff into my dimensional bag, then we left. Len briskly led us on a route to the stairwell — then down, down, down. We hit the bottom floor, and she opened a hidden panel. The stairwell continued.

“…What’s this?” I asked.

“The monster wing,” Sera explained. “Will it be okay for us to visit without notice?”

“They’ll understand the circumstances. And given what you’ve been doing for their kind, I’m certain they’ll be pleased to offer you shelter.”

I glanced at Sera, wondering just how much I’d missed about her activities. She glanced at me and whispered, “Later.”

Almost as soon as we began to walk down the stairs, I felt a tingling on my arms. It wasn’t cold, precisely, but I felt certain I was being watched.

A few seconds later, I glanced backward and saw some kind of spectral apparition floating behind our group. The half-corporeal figure waved at me. I waved back uncertainly.

Patrick followed my gaze and let out a brief yelp of surprise. Mara caught him before he fell down the stairs.

“Nothing to worry about,” Len said. “Xavier is guarding the rear. One advantage of this place is that there are many monsters that don’t sleep at all — there’s always someone watching the way up. Often several someones.”

“I feel a bit like we’re intruding,” Mara said.

“Not at all, dear,” the voice of a wizened old woman came from the wall on our right. “Please, do make yourself at home. It’s so rare that we have overnight guests!”

No spectre this time — no, the voice was seemingly coming from…

I had to squint to see it.

An ordinary-sized spider?

“Thank you, ma’am,” I replied. “We’re grateful for your hospitality, especially on such short notice.”

“Such a well-mannered young man!” the spider replied. “Be careful on the way down, the last step can be a bit tricky.”

The “last step” was, apparently, a gigantic hole leading over what appeared to be a vast endless void. It wasn’t too large for me to jump over, especially with magic, but Len simply teleported our whole group across before anyone could fall in.

“Another security measure,” Len explained. “Stops a direct charge down the stairs.”

“That’s great, but…” Patrick frowned at the gap. “Where does it go?”

“A place of power and danger,” Len said, “but I’ll need the tower master’s permission to say more.”

“I don’t suppose it’s the sort of power he used to make this place?” I asked.

Len gave me a smile. “Let me ask him about it. For now,” she knocked on a seemingly ordinary wall, “this is you.”

An illusion faded at her knock, revealing a seemingly ordinary door, similar to the ones in the tower above.

I had been expecting the hidden chamber to be small and rough. That was silly of me.

The room was twice the size of the one we’d been given before, and while it had a rougher stone aesthetic, the beds and furniture were even finer than the ones in the guest chambers above. More impressive than that, though, were the side rooms—

One door led to a full training room with weights and a dueling ring. Another led to a large, multi-chamber restroom. Another was a full office, stocked with books. And the fourth…

“You have hot springs down here?” Sera spun toward Len. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“If you think this is impressive, you should see the waterfall suite. Bored monsters with powerful magic can make some very impressive homes. For now, unload your things and take it easy for a while. You’re going to want to be well-rested for whatever happens next.”

***

We took the next several hours to try to relax, at least once I’d set up a bunch of redundant security measures for the room. Mara and Sera took the first shot at the hot springs, then we rotated.

The rest of the day was largely without incident, save when Len returned with a letter bearing the Edrian royal seal.

The contents were simple, if terrifying in their possible ramifications.

On behalf of the Empire of Edria, I, Edria Song, hereby accept your offer.

In exchange for access to the memories you have offered, the nation of Valia is henceforth under my protection.

The details will be related by my council to yours. Deliver the necessary memories within twelve hours.

-Emperor Edria Song

I gulped, handed the letter to Sera, who read it, then passed it to the others.

“Well,” Sera said, “this war just got a lot more interesting.”

Chapter XXIX – Showoff

We emerged from the Underspire — that was, apparently, the formal name for the monster wing — briefly to make our delivery.

It had taken some time to figure out exactly what to hand off. Sera summoned Researcher to us to make copies of several crystals from Keras’ box — ones we could give the emperor permanently, as a gesture of greater significance than just loaning her our box. Doing that also meant we didn’t have to worry about coordinating a return of our existing crystals.

I checked the contents of each crystal we were going to give her before handing them off, making sure we weren’t giving away anything particularly sensitive.

After a bit of debate, we decided against sharing Keras’ memories of his sparring match against Edria Song herself, as we felt they would be more likely to cause problems than contribute to our cause.

Finally, I included a single crystal of my own memories — one where I’d rescued Keras from the spire, to give her context on why he was there. Hopefully that would help add some authenticity to the one she’d already seen.

I considered giving her memories of some of my other battles, but ultimately, there was no reason to give her extra information on my abilities that I didn’t need to.

Len arranged for us to have a fancy gift box to put the crystals in, which we wrapped and then delivered personally. The emperor formally accepted the box, then dismissed us.

And with that, our part of the job was done.

We met with Elora after that.

“I’m told,” Elora said, “that you have made arrangements for the Emperor of Edria to step in if a visage attacks our nation directly?”

I found her tone a little worrying. Was she going to tell me it was a terrible idea? “I did, yes.”

Elora Theas watched me for a moment, pausing, then said simply, “I need to introduce you to some people.”

“…Why?”

“Because,” Elora explained, “I need to be able to take as much credit as possible for this idea, and that’ll be easier if you’re with me.”

“Oh.” I blinked. “Thanks for being honest about that?”

“You’re welcome, dear. Now, let’s go make you deeply uncomfortable for a few hours, before you retire to an evening of avoiding assassins.”

“I hate political events,” I told her.

“Really?” She looked surprised. “From what I’ve seen, you fit in perfectly.”

***

The rest of the day was largely a blur of one of my least-favorite things — talking to a bunch of important strangers.

Sera was in her element, at least. On several occasions, I found her chatting with people from other delegations in their own native languages. I knew she had some degree of proficiency in several tongues, but I was genuinely impressed she knew enough to communicate verbally with dignitaries.

It’s possible I should have studied more of that myself, but the only language I’d ever really thrown myself into was learning runes and sub-glyphs, if one could even call them that. Well, and a bit of studying Valdaric, for reasons.

The day concluded without any other massive incidents, which was good for my ailing heart.

Hope tomorrow is easier, I told myself as I went to sleep in the Underspire.

Patrick and Mara left with Len at some point during the night, for reasons that weren’t clear to me. They were both injured and looked absolutely ragged when I saw them in the morning, but they survived whatever it was. I wanted to ask, but after they washed up, they went straight to bed.

I was deeply curious about what they’d been up to, but I didn’t get to go off and delve into whatever mysteries they’d explored. I had something equally mystifying and much scarier to deal with.

Politics.

We had several new guests at the meeting the following day. I ignored most of them, until a particular call out caught my attention.

“Now introducing an independent Emerald representing the interests of Haven Securities, bearing the designation Showoff.”

I gawked in the direction of the doorway. Sera outright shot to her feet, ignoring decorum. He was wearing a mask and a jaunty hat, but there was no hiding who we were looking at. The gold hilt on his belt seemed lonely without the red that it had once been paired with. There was no replacement sword, just an innocuous dagger on the opposite side of the belt.

“Showoff” bowed to the mild applause of the crowd upon his entry, then walked straight over to our table, ignoring the role of his flimsy disguise, and sat down in the chair to Elora’s right. He kicked his legs up, deliberately kicking a seating card that bore the name “Derek Hartigan” off the table.

Sera stepped in immediately, ignoring the watching crowd and pulling him into a hug. He squawked in surprise, then pulled her in.

“Is that any way to treat a mysterious stranger?” Showoff asked.

“You could have told us you were coming,” Sera whispered. “You could have told us you were okay.”

“Actually, I couldn’t have. I’ve been rather busy. I’m still busy, actually. I’m on assignment. And I should warn you — you won’t want to be seen associating with me.”

Sera pulled him tighter. “Too late.”

Elora tapped her on the shoulder with an “ahem.” Sera shot Elora an annoyed, red-eyed glance, then seemed to process who she was looking at and finally let Derek — let’s just drop the pretense, it was obviously Derek — go.

“You could have told us you were okay,” Elora said, apparently having missed the earlier exchange as she walked over to the table.

Derek laughed. “About that. I’m really not. And you’re not going to be, either, if you’re here much longer. Things are about to get messy.”

“Messy how? And when?” I asked.

Derek turned to me. “The ‘how’ will be obvious soon. As for when…I’ll go ahead and say about five, four, three, two…”

Len’s voice made another announcement that reached across the chamber, causing nearly every delegate present to freeze.

“Now announcing Takeshi Kurita, Former Member of the Dalenos Six, Twice-Fold Emerald, Hydra’s Bane, and now bearing the title Voice of the Sun Eater.”

As the room exploded into an uproar, I took a better look at the swordsman who had just announced himself as the Voice of the Sun Eater.

He looked pretty ordinary, as far as people with ominous titles went. I’d have guessed him as a guy in his thirties or forties, some salt in his black hair, with skin on the paler side for a Dalenos complexion. His eyes were dark, too, but in a way that could have easily been either natural or “glowing with subtle evil power”. Hard to say.

The strange mark on his forehead, though? That was unsubtle and definitely glowing with evil power.

If I’d been uneducated on the topic, I might have assumed it to be some sort of ultra-secret attunement, or maybe an artificial one. As it was, though, I’d heard enough stories to discern what I was looking at it. It was the mark of a vek — one of those who had been taken over by the power of one of the Sun Eater’s army of ruinshades.

Or…at least something like it. I was under the impression that most vek didn’t retain their sense of identity, except perhaps for the ones that were leaders of armies, like General Akadi, the puppetmaster behind a great deal of chaos in Edria many years earlier.

If we were dealing with something like that, I had a lot of questions and an even greater number of concerns.

Takeshi Kurita had been one of Keras’ most formidable opponents when they’d clashed during the Tournament of the Sacred Sword — and that had been a decade earlier. In that time, an attuned could grow tremendously in strength, especially if they had the backing of a visage like the Dalenos Six presumably did.

I wasn’t aware that he’d been removed from that prestigious group. Maybe his loss in the tournament was the cause of that, or it could have been something completely different. Maybe he’d just retired. He was showing a fair bit of grey hair, but then again, I couldn’t tell if that was a sign of age or just being possessed by a God of Ruin.

As Kurita stepped forward, he smiled, and I felt something subtle in the air. A chill ran down my spine and I felt an immediate surge of fear.

Some people froze as the aura washed over them.

A year earlier, it might have crushed me utterly, but I’d been hit with several similar effects now, both during the council and before. I knew what I was dealing with.

Sakki, I realized.

I sent a flare of light and spirit mana out from my shroud, blasting away the effect from influencing me immediately. I wasn’t the only one doing something similar — as my aura reached out, I felt it brush against a near-identical one around Derek, and something not dissimilar from the sword on Patrick’s hip.

Bright Reflection was protecting him, which was strange, because he wasn’t one of the people with their hands on a hilt.

I was, though. I was inches from drawing Selys-Lyann. Others weren’t even that cautious.

The Emperor of Edria was on her feet, a dozen people fanning out around her, weapons drawn in a sliver of a heartbeat.

“Enough!”

The booming voice came not from the self-proclaimed servant of the Sun Eater, but from an old man. Along with his single word, the aura of fear was blasted apart, replaced with one of calm and tranquility.

I turned and blinked at the Master of the Tower, who was marching toward the door, none of his usual slump in his stance, no hesitation in his face. “There will be no violence in this convocation outside of formal duels. That includes aggressive manifestations of spiritual pressure. Fear is harm. Am I understood?”

If I hadn’t been looking closely, I might not have seen the tremble in Warren’s hands.

“Perfectly, my lord.” Takeshi Kurita bowed at the waist. “You’ll have to forgive me for the accident. I sometimes forget how easy it is for the weak to be overwhelmed by the merest brush of true power.”

Wow. I didn’t realize there were actual people that talk like that.

Then again, I suppose if you’re a servant of someone who eats planetary systems, there isn’t a need for much subtlety.

The next words came not from the tower’s master or the interloper, but rather from a man not much older than myself.

I didn’t understand them, aside from the word “father,” which was about the extent of my Dalenos-language comprehension. But I could understand the tone, the confusion that came from Takeshi Tetsurin. Apparently, he hadn’t been aware of his father’s new employer.

Kurita turned to his son, appraising, then replied, “You recall when I went to the temple for strength. I found what I wanted and more. You will be given the chance to bask in the same glory, my son.”

“That,” Takeshi Tetsurin replied in Velthryn, straightening, “is my father’s face, but not his voice.”

The interloper smiled. “As I said, I am the Voice of the Sun Eater now. And, on his behalf, I have a great deal to say.”

“We are not interested,” Hannah Meiyer said, holding some sort of polearm defensively in front of the Emperor of Edria, the person at our gathering who was least likely to need it.

“I imagine you wouldn’t be until you’ve actually heard the offer,” Kurita replied. “But if you’ll allow me to speak to each of you, I can promise that many of you would be interested in what I have to offer.”

“Your master eats worlds and then steals the bodies of people within them,” Hannah replied. “I have a hard time seeing how any of us would willingly take part in that.”

“Ah, a common misconception, and one I’m here to correct. My master does not devour every world he comes across, nor every person within them. Those worlds that surrender can be reformed to his specifications — and mortals there released to continue their lives, improved and empowered by the master’s touch. And this world, in particular, has been chosen for a great honor — to become the master’s new seat.”

Across the room in the Caelford segment, Farren was hyperventilating. Kamaria Clarent, in full Advanced Armor, had wrapped her arms around Farren from behind. I couldn’t tell if that was to comfort her or to keep her from moving. Nakht stood in front of the two, his expression completely absent of his usual professional demeanor.

He was enraged. I had to wonder if there was someone on standby to contain him if things escalated much further.

Someone else made a move first.

“This seat,” Derek Hartigan said, finally kicking his feet off his table, and hopping to his feet, “is taken. And, given that you’re supposed to be dead, there won’t be a seat at any of these tables for you, either. A shame. I’d recommend you both cut your losses and leave now.”

“Or?”

“Well, there’s one way to get a seat here. We could expedite the process. I’ll make it simple for you.”

Sera reached out for Derek in terror, but he stepped out of her way without looking at her, slipped off his glove, and swiped it in mid-air.

Across the room, Takeshi Kurita recoiled as an invisible force smashed him across the face, an audible crack resounding across the room.

“I challenge you to a duel.”

The Voice of the Sun Eater looked briefly confused, reaching up, and wiped blood off his lips. Then, he smiled.

“I accept.”

“Wonderful!” Derek’s smile was visible beneath his mask. “To the dueling chambers, then.”

“Unnecessary.” The Voice of the Sun Eater clapped his hands together. A circle of glowing black stones burst from the ground in the dance floor area, forming a ring. “I have created a field for us. Come.”

Sera managed to catch Derek’s arm as he turned. “This is a mistake. He was a dual attuned even when Keras fought him, with compounding attunements. Now, he has something on top of that, beyond an attunement. I can feel it, it’s—”

“I’m well aware. Don’t worry, I have an excellent plan.” Derek deftly slipped his arm out of her grip. “And I’ve picked up a trick or two of my own.”

The Voice of the Sun Eater folded his arms, vanishing and then reappearing in the center of the ring of stones, floating in mid-air. “Come. Unless you lack the courage to face me.”

“No, nothing like that, just saying goodbye to my table.” Derek half-shouted to get his voice across the room, not projecting it through magic or spirit the way Kurita seemed to be. “Be right there!”

Kurita scoffed audibly enough that I could hear it, but waited.

Derek leaned in. “Listen, I didn’t get to give any of you a proper goodbye last time, and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry this all played out like this. I got overconfident with that last affair. I should have brought Emeralds with me.”

“On the topic of overconfidence,” Elora cut in, sneering, “you seem to have a serious problem with pattern recognition.”

He shushed her with a look. “I’ll be fine, dear. Good to know you care. This is where you should be doing what you’re best at, though.”

“Politics?” I asked.

“No.” He winked at Elora. “Leaving before things get excessively messy.”

With that, Derek pulled away from the group, ignoring both Elora and Sera’s protests for him to stop.

Sera waved a hand, forming a wall of ice directly in front of him. Derek sighed and hopped right over it, seemingly unbothered by the fact that the wall had been more than fifteen feet in height.

Sera turned to run after him. Elora’s hand grabbed her this time.

“Stop,” Elora hissed.

“We are not letting him make another sacrifice play,” Sera spat back. “Let me go!”

“Not until you think about what’s happening. He’s made a formal challenge and that has been accepted. Stopping him isn’t going to help. Play ahead.”

Sera took a deep breath, then nodded. “What’s next?”

“Come with me. All of you.” Elora released Sera’s arm, then as Derek marched toward an implacable opponent with a mask and a smile, we fled as a group from the room.

***

We weren’t the only ones leaving or repositioning. Even the Emperor’s delegation was moving toward the doors, though they didn’t actually exit. They let us walk out, although I caught a quizzical look from Hannah Meiyer on the way out. I gave her a shrug. I genuinely didn’t know what the plan was. I, at least, didn’t have one yet.

“Where are we going?” Sera demanded, only a step behind Elora.

“That viewing room you spoke of, where Len was using something to watch the duels before. Where is it?”

“I’m not sure we have access to it,” I told her. “She probably keeps it locked.”

“I’ll send a message spell to Len, she can open it for us,” Sera offered.

“No.” Elora raised a hand. “Just show us the room. We’re breaking in.”

“Ah. Deniability for her. Understood. Corin?”

I hastily took the front of the group, leading the way. We passed a few others throughout the tower, but we kept quiet, and no one stopped us.

When we reached the viewing room, we found it unlocked. This wasn’t because the room didn’t have any security — rather, one glance at the wall showed a set of runes that had been deliberately turned off. Not by Len using a key, but someone else breaking the room’s security.

I held out a hand. “Hold. Someone beat us here.”

“Probably just Len,” Patrick offered.

“No. Wards are broken. Abort?” I asked.

“No,” Elora said. “Unless there’s another Harbinger of the Sun Eater in here, we can handle it. Still…Vanniv, I summon you.”

A familiar karvensi appeared at her side. “Ah, the political festivities have begun! Am I to be your—oh, it’s a deadly crisis again, isn’t it?”

“It will be shortly,” Elora explained. “Whether or not that crisis begins in the next room remains an open question. Open the door?”

Vanniv turned to us with a conspiratorial look. “Elora always has me open the door when something murderous is on the other side. Dying after opening a door really helps bring out my best features.”

He winked at Sera, then spun around and, per his instructions, opened the door.

There was, fortunately, no explosion or murder. Instead, a sole figure stood inside, watching the viewing mirror that hovered in mid-air in the center of the room.

“Oh, hello.” Anabelle Farren waved cheerfully toward the doorway. “Are you here to watch the beginning of the end?”

Chapter XXX – Sabotage

Vanniv froze in the doorway upon seeing the solitary woman in the center, then pointed to himself with a questioning look, like, “Are you asking me?”

Meanwhile, I wondered briefly how Farren had gotten ahead of us — I was reasonably confident I’d seen her in the audience chamber behind us, and she hadn’t looked like she was leaving. Then, I remembered it was Farren that I was thinking about, and that trying to figure out how or why she was doing anything was typically a fruitless endeavor.

“Miss Farren?” Elora stood behind Vanniv, allowing him to continue to block the doorway. “I’m not quite certain of what you speak, but if you’re watching the duel, we would be quite pleased to join you.”

Farren blinked at her, then glanced at the mirror, then back to Elora. “Okay. But don’t leave too late.”

Slowly and uncertainly, we entered the room.

“And you might want to seal the door behind you,” Farren added. “We wouldn’t want anyone else barging in. Not before they’re supposed to.”

That sounded…almost reasonable?

After everyone was inside, I reactivated the wards on the door, then set to adding a few of my own.

Sorry, Len. I’m sure you’ll get back in here soon enough. Probably could break right through the anti-teleport wards if you need to. It’s better if we keep others out.

Then I turned to the viewing mirror.

Derek, still in his “Showoff” persona, was on the opposite side of a dueling ring from Takeshi Kurita, now a Harbinger of the Sun Eater. As I watched, Derek shrugged off his overcoat, revealing a black shirt and pants beneath. Both were threaded with golden stitches that were likely to be enchanting runes, but I couldn’t get a good look at them through the viewing mirror.

My heart sank as I recognized the bracelets on his wrists. One was gold, matching the sword on his left hip. The other was crimson, cracked and worn, with no sword left to match it. Instead of a second sword, Derek had a seemingly unremarkable dagger on his belt. A glance at it with Detect Aura showed nothing magical about the dagger, but the shirt and pants were glowing green with power, as were his boots.

Well, his new employer hasn’t been skimping on her investment, at least.

As impressive as that equipment was, it wasn’t the sight of Derek’s equipment that caught my attention.

When I looked at his opponent, I saw three overlapping auras — all bright blue.

Sapphire, I considered. But Sapphire-level attunements aren’t real. Unless…someone working for the Sun Eater knows how to add new functions, much like I can.

Or there’s simply something I don’t know, like how ascended attunements work.

It could be a trick, too. But if he’s that strong…

I glanced to my friends.

It was probably better not to tell them. They looked incredibly worried as-is.

A crowd had formed a ring around the pair, giving them about thirty feet of room to fight. This was, by any reasonable standard, not enough room for Emeralds to conduct any serious combat — but the people there seemed less than concerned about collateral damage. They were, for the most part, other Emeralds.

There was some security, at least. Just after Derek tossed his overcoat to someone in the crowd and began to do some stretches, I saw an Enchanter — the same Enchanter that had nearly killed Mary, looking a lot less incapacitated than Mary was — reach down and activate a circle of runes etched into the floor of the room.

A visible barrier manifested around the dueling pair.

“This is insanity. We need to stop him.” Patrick gestured at the mirror.

“He knows what he’s doing, dear,” Elora reassured us, but she didn’t sound very convinced of her words.

“Don’t worry,” Farren told us. “You’ll get him out of here. Now, if you’re thinking of the devastating loss of life in the wake of what follows, that’s much more of a problem.”

“What are you on about?” Elora asked. “Do you know something about what he’s planning?”

Farren frowned at her. “Which one? The Sun Eater or the Tyrant?”

Elora was, in that rarest of occasions, rendered monetarily speechless.

“It’s starting,” I told them.

All eyes turned back to the mirror.

Someone was announcing the terms of the duel, which was apparently to surrender or incapacitation. Both combatants agreed to the terms, bowed to the judge — who I didn’t recognize — and then turned to each other.

“Watch what’s missing,” Farren told us.

I frowned at that, looking around in the mirror image, but I simply found the statement puzzling. If anyone else sorted it out, they didn’t say. Instead, we watched as the combatants paused just out of sword reach.

Derek said something quietly, but I didn’t catch it.

“He’s asking Kurita if he’s under any sort of compulsion,” Sera explained, apparently reading lips. “Kurita said no. Now, they’re about to start.”

I saw Derek shrug and heard him say, “Not like you’d answer honestly either way.”

Then, they began to circle each other, each prepared to draw their swords.

There was a moment of tension—

Then Takeshi Kurita flew forward, drawing both swords in a simultaneous swing. Lightning rippled around his entire body as he struck, a thunderous cacophony of sound accompanying his draw. It was an impressive effect, between his tremendous speed and the magical power he unleashed in his first movement.

Derek took a little step to the side, avoiding both swings entirely, and didn’t even bother drawing his sword. Instead, he flicked his wrist, sending a tiny piece of metal out of his sleeve.

Takeshi reacted immediately in the same way most swordsmen tended to, slapping the object out of the air. It hit the ground a moment later. I leaned in closer to the mirror, trying to see the item, but I couldn’t get a good look. It didn’t radiate magic, aside from the electrical energy that was now playing off the surface from the impact with Takeshi’s sword.

“What is this?” Takeshi’s eyes flicked down to the object as he stepped back, circling.

“Payment,” Derek explained, “for your funeral costs.”

Then he snapped his fingers. Two duplicates of him appeared, one to his left and one to right. None of them drew their swords. Instead, each reached into a sleeve and produced a single flower.

Takeshi moved in a blur, cutting through the central Derek — the original — in a single motion. His swords tore through without resistance, which would have been terrifying if I couldn’t see the image visibly warble as the lightning-wrapped swords cleaved through it.

“And some flowers,” the Derek on the left said, “since no one else is likely to offer them to a traitor.”

Each of the versions of Derek tossed a flower at him. Takeshi didn’t wait to see what kind of trick it was — he simply turned toward the Derek that was speaking and swung his sword upward.

Icy spikes burst from the ground, enveloping that entire third of the arena in an instant, piercing straight through Derek’s body.

“Not a very good climate for most flowers to grow,” Derek’s voice came from behind him. “But sometimes the most beautiful ones grow in the harshest environments.”

Takeshi spun around, making another rapid swing that parted the air, but managed little else. The third Derek simply stepped backward to avoid the attack, seemingly guided by the wind itself, Takeshi’s thunderous cut harmlessly passing within a hair of his chest.

“Ooh, almost felt that one.” Derek smiled. “I suppose it’s time I start taking this seriously, isn’t it?”

He cracked his neck and reached for the sword on his belt. He didn’t get a chance to draw before Takeshi stomped the ground, sending a visible ripple across the floor. Derek stumbled — and I felt the reason a moment later, as the entire tower trembled.

An earthquake with a single step. That’s absurd! And now Derek is—

Twin blades cut through Derek’s stumbling form.

And, predictably, met with nothing but air.

Takeshi responded immediately by turning again, clearly growing frustrated by the illusions, but he was a hair too slow.

Something slipped around his neck.

Not garotte wire — nothing so messy as that.

No, a familiar medallion, one I’d seen Derek borrow from Keras from the Jaden Box.

In retrospect, Wrynn would probably want that back, now that she was out. That said, she’d probably have approved of this use of it.

Derek had picked it up because of his own experience with being controlled by Orden. It was an amulet that supposedly gave complete immunity to mental compulsion—

And, if the way that it flashed and the black symbol on Kurita’s forehead dimmed was any indication, it was working hard to do its job.

Takeshi reached for the necklace, his expression one of disbelief.

Then, slowly, he turned around and clapped his hands once.

There was a warble in the air and Derek appeared, Tavare still sheathed at his side.

“You thinking clearer?” Derek asked.

“Much,” Takeshi Kurita answered. “I should thank you for this.”

“You can thank me with a hasty surrender—”

“You misunderstand.”

Kurita flicked a sword in Derek’s direction. The air screamed with thunder as Derek flew backward, slamming into the arena barrier with an audible crunch. This time, I saw Derek’s shield sigil flare on the impact, and his shrouds appear to cushion the blow.

He’s real this time, I processed grimly, and not in a great spot.

Kurita didn’t bother to lunge in and take advantage of the opening as Derek pushed himself off the barrier, wobbling in place. Instead, he casually gestured, forming ice around Derek’s legs and rapidly spreading it upward, enveloping him from the waist down.

“Well,” Derek mumbled as he rested his hand on his sword hilt, “that answers the mind control question.”

“Not mind control,” Takeshi explained as he crossed the arena. “As a Harbinger, I merely shared my body with one of the great generals of Rendalir. It is not so different from your own bonds, Soulblade. At times, it is a wonderous opportunity. But alas, he is not yet used to the tricks of modern magic. Whereas I am intimately familiar with your brand of treachery — and I will permit it to go no further.”

Kurita lunged so quickly that I could see an afterimage where he’d been standing.

As Kurita moved, the broken bracelet on Derek’s wrist flared and flames surged around him, melting the ice around his lower body.

Even then, Derek didn’t draw his sword. Instead, he spoke a word.

“Lightshow.”

And the mirror went blindingly bright.

I heard a scream — Takeshi’s — that rapidly cut off with a gurgle.

When Tavare’s brilliant radiance faded from the mirror, Takeshi Kurita was clutching at his throat, a dagger buried deep within it. Kurita fell to his knees, choking, fingers groping for the weapon’s hilt.

So that’s where The Ordinary Knife went, I considered as people in the crowd began to scream.

Derek took a step forward, his hands open. “My understanding is that it’s necessary to be abundantly clear with people like yours, so allow me to deliver a message to your master.”

As Kurita fumbled with the dagger, Derek put a single finger on the pommel. “This world is already taken.”

A blast of golden light enveloped the knife, surging through it and into Takeshi’s body. As the radiance flowed through Takeshi, twisted shadows exploded outward from his skin. Kurita’s eyes went glassy, then his body collapsed forward, unmoving. The mark on his forehead began to fade.

I heard screams from the audience. The judge was saying something, but I heard Derek more clearly.

“Always need to be certain with creatures like you.”

Derek finally drew his sword as people continued to scream. The Enchanter rushed to the arena runes, working to undo the barrier, but Derek didn’t give him the time.

He jammed Tavare into the fallen man’s form, frowned, then ducked down and grabbed the knife — and amulet — at the man’s neck.

“Thank you all, it’s been terrible.” Derek lifted the bloodstained knife, took a bow, and disappeared with the sound of a ringing bell.

***

Most of the people in my room were dead silent. Sera, however, was looking expectantly toward the chamber door.

I heard a knock on the door only a few moments later.

“Corin, if you would?” Sera asked.

I blinked at her. “You don’t mean…”

“Time is rather important, but yes.” Sera nodded to me.

I rushed to the door, rapidly disabling the necessary enchantments to open it.

While I moved to the door, Farren was whispering something with Elora. It only took me a few moments to get the door open again — I didn’t need to do anything complicated — and by that point, Elora was opening a portal.

The door opened. Derek “Showoff” Hartigan stood on the other side, still masked, bloodstained knife sheathed at his waist, his coat now thrown over his shoulder.

Susan the Spectre hovered next to him, partially inside the floor.

“Good, good, I was just about to see if she could make it through the wall,” Derek said, stepping into the room.

Elora walked away from her portal to step in front of Derek, then full-on slapped him across the face.

“Very likely deserved that for a number of things, but I’m afraid time is short for apologies, so…lovely to see you all, thanks for everything, try not to look too involved.” Derek took the hand that had just slapped him, kissed it softly, and ran straight through the portal.

Elora snapped her fingers. The portal vanished.

“Hope you like swamp water,” she muttered, “you handsome jerk.”

Sera stepped over, putting a comforting hand on Elora’s shoulder. Susan the Spectre hovered closer, still half-way inside the floor.

“That was a great murder, boss,” Susan said. “Didn’t think you had it in you, but I’m proud.”

“It wasn’t murder, precisely. That man was more or less already dead.”

“Don’t think yer givin’ yourself enough credit, there, but hey, if that’s what you’ve gotta say…” Susan shrugged.

“No time for this banter, I’m afraid.” Elora sighed. “Vanniv, you’re dismissed for now.”

“Very well, handsome time is over.” Vanniv nodded, then disappeared with an entirely unnecessary flash of light.

Sera made a gesture with her hand. “Susan, you’d better go, too. Especially given the whole accomplice thing.”

“Right, right, boss. Keep me in mind for any more of that, though.” The spectre vanished as well, leaving us among humans and whatever Farren actually was.

“Corin, can you do anything to disrupt tracking in here?” Sera asked.

“Technically, yes, but it’d be redundant. Serious anti-divination stuff on this room, including a false recreation enchantment. I didn’t turn it off. That means recreating what just happened here with divination will be hard. I can’t do better than what Warren’s work is already doing.” I frowned. “Which is probably why Farren was waiting here?”

“Hm?” Farren blinked. “What? Is it time?”

“Not sure which time you’re talking about,” I responded.

“Ah.” She gave me a sympathetic look. “That’s always the problem, isn’t it?”

I heard something distantly, coming from a nearby stairwell. “People.”

“Then we’re going,” Elora said. “Gather close.”

Everyone moved quickly, even Farren, and then Elora snapped her fingers.

We found ourselves in one of the Valian guest bedrooms, presumably Elora’s. No one else was present.

I wobbled a little as we all appeared.

“We’ll need to hope that the trail ends at the door,” Elora explained, “but we’re going to all look suspicious. Valia in general will.”

“What if they just use that reconstruction-style divination magic outside the door to see who came in, in what order?” I asked.

“I don’t think you’re going to get anyone playing too hard at the detective here. Even if they did, however, the runes on the room should obscure things right outside, shouldn’t they?”

I shrugged. It was true that the enchantment runes weren’t single-directional and pointing inward for their area of effect. They could extend outward, but the walls themselves would reduce the outward-facing efficacy. I had no idea how effective that would be, so I just shrugged. “Maybe?”

“Well, we’ll hope for that. Either way, there’s nothing much we can do at this point,” Elora noted. “Not without more danger, at least.”

“Do you think many people saw through the disguise?” Patrick asked.

“Plenty will have, but it will be difficult to pin anything on the person beneath the mask. Still, people will know, and they’ll know his last known associates.”

Farren frowned. “Was that me? Am I a known associate?”

“Probably not,” I told her. “That I’m aware of, at least.”

Farren nodded sagely. “That’s probably a good thing. I don’t like associating with disasters more than I need to. Especially ones that kill so many politicians. Always messy.”

I frowned at Farren. “I’m pretty sure the only casualty there was Kurita, and even that was debatable, given his condition.”

Farren blinked. “Oh. Has the killing only just started?” She lifted her wrist as if to check a watch, but she wasn’t wearing one, then mumbled something like, “Better to get going while we can, then.”

“Hold on, Miss Farren.” Elora stepped closer. “What sort of future catastrophe are you speaking of? Is there still time to avert it?”

“Hm? Oh, not really. I mean, you might be able to do some stuff, but once Showoff gets with the stabbing, the screaming should start just about…”

She trailed off. We all waited briefly for any sort of dramatic scream, but I didn’t hear anything.

“Acoustics in here are terrible,” Farren mumbled. “Anyway, enjoy the ruinshades!”

She clapped her hands, there was a flash of light, then—

Farren was still standing with us, as if nothing had happened. She looked vaguely perplexed. “Oh.” She paused for a moment. “Huh. I’m in danger.”

I gave her a look of disbelief. In the meantime, Elora walked to the wall of her room, reaching toward it with a frown. “The teleportation blocking runes weren’t supposed to prevent people from leaving the spire.”

“But they are now?” I asked. “That’s odd. I’ll see if I can fix them, but—”

“No time,” Farren said. “Take a look at the mana in walls, see what you see.”

I walked over to the room’s walls, activating Detect Aura. The mana saturation in the room was tremendous. I couldn’t see anything special about the walls that way, but that presumably wasn’t what she meant. So, I reached for the wall and…

Improved Identify.

I frowned as information flooded my mind. Much of it was the same as last time I’d checked, in terms of general composition, but the overall mana levels had climbed higher…in every type. And, even as I recast the spell to double-check, the mana saturation had increased further, which meant…

“Oh, no.” I whispered.

The bomber hadn’t been content to stop after their attempt on the train. No, they had one last trick to play.

And we were standing inside the bomb.

Chapter XXXI – Shades of the Present

“Oh, no?” Sera asked. “What’s going on, Corin?”

“Hold on.”

I rushed to the wall, immediately pulling an etching rod out of my bag and pushing it against the stone.

It bounced harmlessly off a barrier. “Knew it couldn’t be that simple.”

“Corin?” Sera asked again. “What’s happening? What were you doing?”

“Trying to draw capacity runes, but it’s too late for that. This segment of the spire has a barrier on the walls to prevent modifications now. Might be the whole building. Farren, do you know where we need to go?”

Farren withered at my question. “I don’t even know where we are.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. Sera snapped her fingers at me.

“Corin. Please. Clarity would be nice.”

I took a breath. “Sorry, sorry. We need to move fast. You know how an item with too much mana inside it explodes?”

“Yeah, sure. Like you did with Jin’s shield sigil, back in the Serpent Spire.”

“Well, there isn’t really a size limit on something that’s considered an ‘item’ for enchanting. Most enchantments for buildings tend to be room-specific, but that’s a limitation on the zone the enchantment covers. Building-wide enchantments are possible, and this tower has several of them. Including, uh, possibly some new ones.”

Sera’s eyes widened. “You’re saying that someone is trying to overcharge the entire building?”

“No, no,” Farren cut in. “He hasn’t said that. You did. I’m even pretty confident that was in the past.”

Sera ignored her. “So, what, they just…erased some capacity runes? Or added new recharge runes?”

I shook my head. “That might work, but it would take such a ludicrous amount of mana to overcharge a building that even with Emerald-level recharge runes, it would take…months, probably? Someone would notice. Even if the people in here didn’t, some elemental would probably show up to collect if mana was accumulating for months.”

“Then…how?” Sera asked.

I turned to Farren. “What’s this place actually on top of?”

“Why would I know that?” Farren frowned. “I mean, it’s the memory gateway crystal, but that doesn’t seem like something I should know. Does it?”

“The memory crystal,” I muttered. “Hm…probably not? A gateway crystal probably does have enough power to overcharge a structure like this, but I don’t see the crystal agreeing to that. Memory should be more related to preserving things as they are. Blowing up a massive building seems completely antithetical to that.”

“We’ve been down there,” Mara chimed in, surprising me. “Patrick and I, that is. But it’s not a standard shrine. You take the tests in parts. You have to do some, then come back later and repeat the same challenges with some changes. Like, one of the bridges will be invisible, and you have to remember where it was.”

“Seems thematically appropriate. Did you reach the crystal?” I asked.

“Not yet. But Len said it’s one of the friendly ones, and I agree with that read. It’s part of what’s keeping the monsters here safe from the visages.”

I frowned. “Then why…”

“Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way,” Sera noted. “If there’s a defensive crystal under here, maybe it isn’t the source of the power. Maybe it’s the target.”

“Oh. Oh.” I took a breath. “We just fell for one of the oldest tricks in the book, didn’t we?”

Sera must have followed my logic, or come to a similar conclusion. “Why would the Sun Eater only send in one agent?”

Patrick gripped his sword’s hilt tightly. “But even someone on Takeshi Kurita’s level wouldn’t have enough mana to overcharge a whole tower, would they?”

“They wouldn’t need to,” I took a breath. “They’re planar travelers. They could have an entire army on the other side of a portal channeling mana into this place. Or just, you know, one evil god.”

“R…right.” Patrick drew in a breath. “What do we do?”

“The thing true heroes do,” I said. “Find people more powerful than we are to solve the problem.”

***

We sprinted out of Elora’s room as a group. While Elora might have been able to overwhelm the anti-teleportation defenses that had gone up, she’d just thrown up a portal to get Showoff out of the building minutes earlier, and we couldn’t risk wasting every remaining bit of her mana on a gamble that might fail to accomplish anything.

As we rushed down the stairwell, the first shades burst through the walls.

Patrick reacted fastest, drawing Bright Reflection before I could even tell what was happening and cleaving straight through one of the half-manifested shadows. It tore in half as his gleaming blade passed through it, but as effective as the attack as, it was like taking a chip out of a boulder.

By the time we’d taken another two steps, every inch of the walls was inky black as hundreds of shadows began to tear their way into our world.

“It would seem,” Farren observed, “that we’ve been noticed.”

Mara punched into one of the walls with an essence blade, dragging it downward as she ran, cleaving through everything in her path — but shadows began to form along the stairs around her legs, grabbing and tearing at her pant legs. Her shroud and shields protected her, but they weakened by the moment.

Elora clapped her hands. Brilliant flames flashed across the walls, searing the stone, then whipped inward to clear the stairs.

“Keep moving,” she urged us. We required no further encouragement.

We reached the Valian gathering room next, hearing the sounds of combat as we rushed forward. There were only a handful of people in the chamber, most having left for the main council meeting or to observe the duel, but those that remained were gathered behind a rough barricade of fallen tables surrounded by dozens of rapidly appearing shades.

As we rushed across the room, a hurled axe flashed out from behind the barrier, cleaving through a half dozen of the shades before whirling back to an extended hand. I recognized the weapon in spite of only seeing it briefly—

Maverly?

“Lars!” I rushed to flank the shades as they flooded toward the barrier. As I drew Selys-Lyann, the sword’s blade flashed the brightest I’d ever seen it, frost exploding outward as if eager to confront the monsters around us.

Improved Haste.

I rushed into the shades, hewing left and right, then flooded my shroud with light mana and sent it outward in a burst. I blew a hole through the crowd, a torrent of flames following in my wake from Elora’s hand as I rushed to the barricade.

“Corin Cadence, my favorite customer!” Lars stood up behind the barrier, then hurled his axe backward, where it cleaved into a shade that was peeling itself out of one of the walls. The axe flew straight back to his outstretched grip while he continued facing me. “It’s a bad day for business.”

As I got to the barrier, I found over a dozen people huddling behind it, too terrified or weak to fight. Mostly children, presumably those that had been brought along with a parent, that didn’t have permission to go to the actual council gathering.

Also, Rupert Kent’s dad.

The rest of our group got behind the barrier, unleashing more attacks at the shades to keep the tide at bay, but they were unrelenting.

Farren tugged on Elora’s sleeve. “Now would be a good time for an exit.”

“I don’t know how far we’d need to go to get out of range of this madness, and I still don’t know if I can—”

Lars pulled something out of a bag at his side. It looked like a huge ceramic key. “This might help.”

Elora took the key, turning it over. “This’ll help me do a direct teleport to the anchor it’s linked to, if it’s close, but—”

“Pending,” he said simply. That was the town outside of the Seventh Spire.

“I think I can manage that, but it’s going to take most of what I have left. If I leave, everyone else—”

“Leave me here,” Mara said. “I’ll fight through this, find the person responsible and shut it down.”

I took a breath, then nodded to her. “Same.”

Patrick rested his sword against his shoulder. “Then I’m staying, too.”

Sera hesitated for a moment, then finally took a breath. “Think you can come back for us later?”

Elora turned to her. “You’ll need to get the anti-teleportation defenses turned off first. This is a bad idea.”

Farren frowned silently. If she had any prophetic knowledge of our fate, she wasn’t sharing.

“Heroics is all about bad ideas.” Lars slapped Mara on the shoulder. “I’ll make sure the kids are safe. Get going, before more shades show up.”

She gave him a nod. Then, as Elora began her spell to evacuate the people who remained behind the barricade, the four of us ran on.

***

We rushed through the chamber door, then turned up the stairs, toward where we’d last seen everyone gathered. Shades were still bleeding out of the walls here, but not at the same speed. I could understand why. There was a cacophony of sound up ahead of us, hundreds of spells flying as the council members fought off the shades manifested in the chambers around them.

“Wait, hold on,” Sera called out weakly, stumbling as we headed up the final flight of stairs.

Patrick spun, blasting another shade coming out from a wall with a beam of light. “You okay?”

“No, but that’s not the problem.” She gripped at her chest, frowned, then shook her head. “Rushing straight into a mass combat is just going to get us lost in the chaos or killed. We need a definitive plan. We can’t just say ‘we’ll find the bad guy’ and expect to do it in a room with spells flying everywhere. Corin, can you track the source of the shades?”

“Maybe. We’d need to find the runes or spell effect that are spawning them, or…I guess I could try to grab one of the shades directly, but…”

“No, that’s too much of a possession risk, even if you have light mana.” Sera shook her head, then let out an “eep” as another shade’s hands tried to grab her from the floor. Mara lashed out with a kick, a mana blade forming from her foot, and tore them into pieces.

The shades weren’t very durable, even without using light mana. The problem was sheer numbers. Even as we repositioned, more were coming, and this was the least shade-dense place we’d found since leaving Elora’s room.

“Why are they even summoning shades?” Patrick asked. “If the plan is to blow up the spire, wouldn’t that just attract more attention?”

“It’s likely that whoever is trying to overcharge the spire expected to be noticed quickly after the mana levels started to rise. So, they set up the duel as an initial distraction, then sealed off our escape and started summoning the shades when that ended. That’s just a guess, though. We don’t have much information to—” I paused to cleave another encroaching shade “—speculate from.”

“If you can’t track the source of the shades safely, then…” Sera snapped her fingers. “Hold on. Winds, carry this message to Len Hastings: We’re trying to track the mastermind. Can we meet?” A pause. “She’s coming. Hold here.”

The four of us fell into a back-to-back formation. I pulled out my light mana battery, then began to funnel it into my shroud, creating a persistent light mana aura. Patrick did the same thing, but by utilizing Bright Reflection’s power.

We didn’t have to wait long. Len burst down the stairs, smashing through a crowd of shades with a phantasmal two-handed hammer. With each swing of the titanic tool, crowds of shades exploded into the tower walls, hurled like they’d been struck by a battering ram.

I blinked at the display, then my eyes widened at the massive tide of shades following her. There were dozens, if not hundreds, of monsters trailing in her wake.

“Wall!” Sera yelled, forming a gleaming barrier of green stone right behind Len. The shades charged straight into it — and slammed into the surface, failing to push through.

Sera coughed, clutching her chest again.

“What was that?”

“Put spirit mana into it. That was…possibly a mistake. But it worked.” She grimaced. “Won’t last long. Len, we need you.”

Len came to a stop when she reached our overlapping aura of light. “You kids should be getting out of here, this whole place is going to—”

“The bomb that someone used to hurt Mary. Do you still have the pieces?” Sera asked.

I blinked. “You think…”

“I think that someone who likes to enchant things into bombs might be the same person overcharging this tower, yes.”

“That’s a leap,” I told her. But Len was already fishing something out of a dimensional bag at her side.

“I collected and reassembled as many pieces of the bomb as I could, but I couldn’t trace the maker.” She displayed a fractured cylinder, which looked like it had been glued together with adhesive. The runes were inert now, but recognizable. “There wasn’t a clear mana signature.”

I frowned, reaching out, then cast a tracking spell. Nothing. “No signature…an Arbiter like me could have done it.”

Len raised an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose you have anything to confess?”

“No,” I told her. “And I don’t suppose Warren—”

She shook her head. “No. He’d never turn his attunement back on. Or sacrifice his spire. Not even on his worst day.”

“Then…” I frowned. “Another Arbiter? Or an artificial Arbiter? Farren could have enough knowledge…”

“But we were with her during the duel,” Sera said. “And while she could have set up something ahead of time to trigger later, that’s a leap. What about other types of tracking spells? Ones that would work against an Arbiter?”

“Spirit tracking.” I snapped my fingers. “The same way I found a trail to Constantine, based on his old Petitioner’s Coin. It’s worth—”

“I already tried it,” Len said. “I got nothing. Either the target was out of my range, or blocked with power beyond my abilities.”

My shoulders slumped. “If you can’t do it, then there’s no way I…”

“Cooperative casting,” Patrick said. “Like Sera and I do with Permafrost Cascade. Len might be much stronger than we are, but we have four people with spirit magic here.”

“Best to leave Sera out of it,” I said. “She’s already—”

“No, I’m in.” She put her hand out. “Or rather, this is an emergency, so…Seiryu, I invoke you.” Her hand trembled as she held it out. “Hurry. I’ll contribute as much mana as I can, but I shouldn’t maintain this for long.”

Patrick’s hand came forward, his sigil of Bright Reflection gleaming brightly as he put it over Sera’s, even as frost began to spread from her fingertips.

My hand came in next, then Len’s. She took the broken cylinder back. “I’ll lead the spell,” she said. “Just contribute as much mana as you can safely. I’ll shape it.”

I took a breath, then attached a mana thread to my spirit mana battery. “Ready.”

“Go.” Len nodded to all of us. “Spirit Tracking Analytical Arrow.”

We flooded spirit mana into the air, which Len drew into her spell, more and more white light gathering around us in a veil of mist, until…

Len’s eyes flashed white. “I have it. Stop the flow.”

I drew in a breath. My battery was dry and half my own mana was gone.

Sera wobbled on her feet. Mara, the only one of us not casting, stepped in immediately to catch her before she collapsed.

We all turned to her. “Sera?”

“G....go. I’ll be okay.” She gave me an obviously fake smile.

“We’re not leaving you,” I told her.

“Len, can you get us downstairs?” Mara asked. “Sera can’t fight, but the monsters here trust her. We can go make sure they’re safe, then rally anyone that can help.”

“I have a master key for teleporting within the spire. It’ll take some mana, but I can get you down to your room.” Len nodded. “Anyone else going?”

Patrick and I looked at each other.

“Go,” Sera insisted. “Trust us to handle our side.”

I took a deep breath, then squeezed Sera’s hand. “Don’t push yourself too hard.”

She laughed. “Look who’s talking.”

Then, with a snap of Len’s fingers, Mara and Sera were gone.

“Let’s go.” Len raised the cylinder. “Someone is still actively trying to block divination, this isn’t going to last forever.”

“Okay.” Patrick nodded. “I think we’re ready to run.”

“Run?” Len hefted her hammer. “I just told you, I can teleport in here. We’re not running anywhere through this madness. Brace yourselves for an ambush.”

“Their ambush or ours?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

Then, with a snap of her fingers, we were gone.

Chapter XXXII – Shades of Betrayal

We appeared in the middle of one of the Valian bedrooms, right next to where a single person sat on a bed.

“Well, this is awkward.” Sylvia Sanctum blinked at us about a tenth of a second before Len hit her with a titanic glowing hammer.

The Citrine-level Enchanter was blasted straight off her bed into a stone wall — or, rather, into a gigantic shadowy hand that reached out to catch her and cushion the impact. An Emerald-green shield around Sylvia had fractured on impact, but not entirely shattered.

Prior to teleporting in, I might have questioned if we actually had the right person — there could have been more than one person who liked overcharging things into bombs — but the gigantic shadow hand kind of settled that issue.

That and the hugely conspicuous dark ritual with a gigantic black portal in the center of it sitting in the middle of the room. That was a little suspicious, too.

So, in conclusion, I was charging in a moment later, reaching out with an open hand to grab Sylvia’s while she recovered from the opening blow.

Accelerated Computation.

Analyze Attunement Composition—

My mind screamed as strange red glyphs flashed across my senses.

Sylvia laughed. “Can’t think that trick would work on me, did you? Please, Corin. I was learning sub-glyphs when you were in a crib. That paltry trick won—”

A blast of light from Patrick’s sword cracked into her shields, but she simply watched it for a moment, then grabbed the beam out of the air.

I blinked, then she clicked her tongue. “Light magic? As it happens, that’s my specialty.”

The beam grew brighter in her grip, and she hurled it straight into my chest.

A few months ago, that beam of light would have pierced straight through my defenses. As it was, the slight adjustments I’d made to block Patrick’s attacks kicked in, and the beam simply cracked the shields, rather than destroying them outright.

“Not a bad defense.” Sylvia cracked her neck. “So much for the easy solution. Gentlemen?”

A pair of figures appeared in flanking positions around me. They weren’t shades, not exactly. Instead, they looked like humans that had been covered entirely with shadowy ink, then stretched out to impossible proportions, too tall, with arms too long. They didn’t quite look like the vek creatures that Keras had described. More like some kind of strange elementals, perhaps.

I didn’t get a chance to ask what they were.

“Body of Dawn,” Patrick whispered.

Then there was a blur of impossibly fast motion and the strange creatures were collapsing into some sort of ink-like puddles and Bright Reflection was at Sylvia’s throat.

She blinked. Then, her eyes flicked down to the sword and she said, “Well, huh. You win, I guess? I offer my unconditional surrender.”

I…wasn’t quite sure what to say to that.

Fortunately, Len seemed a little more prepared, or at least better at dealing with such a strategy. “Then disable the spell effect that’s overcharging the tower immediately.”

“Oh, is that what you want? Shame.” She shrugged. “I can’t.”

Patrick glowered at her, pressing the edge of his sword harder against her neck. “You’re not in a negotiating position.”

“No, I mean I literally can’t. The ritual doesn’t have an end condition. But, if you accept my surrender and take me out of here, I’d be glad to explain to you all about it for next time.”

“Next time?” I asked. “How many spires are you planning to destroy?”

“All of them, obviously.” She laughed, ignoring Patrick’s weapon to reach up and rub at her right ear. “Now, about that exit—”

Len smashed Sylvia in the head with her hammer before she could finish her sentence. The Enchanter hit the ground hard, head bleeding, her shields broken. Then, as she twitched, Len reached down and grabbed her. “Sleep.”

Sylvia slumped against the ground, unmoving.

“That was a little…” Patrick’s eyes were wide.

“We don’t have time to debate and she wasn’t being helpful.” She clapped her hands. The woman vanished. “There. She’s imprisoned. If we have a spire tomorrow, I’ll have more questions, but for now…”

“Evacuate?” Patrick asked. “If she was telling the truth…”

“She was hiding something, but we didn’t have time to interrogate it out of her. She just touched her earring — she was probably sending a message for reinforcements. I’ve seen similar spell effects with earrings before. We need to get moving.”

“Moving where?” I asked.

“To find someone who can handle this.” Len waved at the ritual circle. “Master Constantine might have some insights, or perhaps we could go figure out if Farren has the tools to break a spell—”

Something clicked. “Mary. It’s been Mary. That’s why they tried to take her out in her final match. That’s probably who the main target was during the train bombing and ambush, too. She’s a Banishment specialist — the natural enemy of anyone who is pulling in power from another plane. If they planned this kind of maneuver from the start, they wanted her out of the way.”

“But if Mary is the target, then—”

Len glanced to the two of us. “The medical ward. We need to go now.”

Then, with another snap, we were in the middle of a nightmare.

***

Mary Hawthorne was having a bad week.

When we found her, she was covered in bleeding wounds, a half-dozen of the medical staff bleeding on the ground around her — all of their faces marked with strange glyphs.

Vek taint, I realized. The markings of people who have been possessed. Either they were just taken over, or…Sylvia, or whoever the mastermind was, had them possessed ahead of time and ready to assassinate Mary when the final assault began.

Mary’s enchanted robes had been torn to ribbons, but an aura of pure white light was repelling the shades around her…at least, for the moment.

Even as we appeared, the aura was flickering, and Mary’s eyes were fluttering. She was barely holding onto consciousness, but she still managed to raise her bow and draw an arrow as we appeared. Fortunately, recognition struck her before she loosed the shot.

“Patrick!” She let out a relieved gasp. “You came! Rosie was worried about you.”

“I, uh…oh. Thanks?” He blushed brightly. “Look, we don’t have much time, these—”

“Ruinshades. I know.” As if to emphasize her point, she blasted one of the shades as it lunged out of a wall, trying to make it through her barrier as it flickered off for a moment. Her arrow pierced that one—

Then the entire back wall of the room moved, an overwhelming wave of pitch-black of reaching down to envelope her.

Improved Haste.

I rushed behind her, swinging Selys-Lyann upward to meet the onrushing tide of dark—

Selys-Lyann’s blade flared crystal-white and the blackness froze in mid-air. But I only had a moment before the origin of the attack made himself known.

“Very impressive work.” A black-robed figure stepped out from another room in the medical hall, tilting his pitch black-hat upward to look straight at us — and show a gleaming pitch-black mark across his forehead. “I can see why she thinks you worthy to take my place.”

“No, no. You can’t be here. You…you died.” Mary’s voice was a whimper. “Kuro.”

Chapter XXXIII – Shades of Tragedy

Kuro Nightshade, the third member of Mary and Rose’s team, stood near the doorway, a vortex of darkness hovering in the air just behind him. “You’re quite right, Mary.” Kuro nodded. “I died right in front of you. No smoke, no mirrors. As it happens,” he shifted his gigantic hat slightly, “for people much more advanced than we are, death is a solved problem.”

“I’m not sure I’d call being possessed by a spectral being from another world a ‘solution’.” Len hefted her hammer, warily scanning around for more threats.

“Well, it wouldn’t be for you. You’re not quite flesh and blood like us, are you? Do you even have a shade? I’d be very curious—”

Len vanished and appeared right behind Kuro, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “Sleep.”

His head slumped down briefly…then shadows built at his feet, swirling ominously. Len jumped backward just before the wave of blackness rushed upward in a fountain, enveloping the area around where both she and Kuro had been standing, then swarming to follow in pursuit of Len’s retreat.

Patrick shot forward in a blur, swinging Bright Reflection straight through the darkness. It parted in the wake of his light, but not so easily as the shades — and, worse, the sword’s brilliance seemed to dim.

That’s not just shadow, I realized. “It’s void sorcery! Don’t let it touch anything magic—”

Len’s eyes widened as a spear of void lashed out from a nearby wall, straight toward her, but she managed to raise a barrier before it crashed into her. The barrier flared and cracked, but it held, even as more spears formed across the room’s floor.

Kuro’s head came back up. He cracked his neck. “That was a nice nap. I’ll advise against anything else like that, though. I’m much friendlier when I’m in full control.”

With a clap of his hands, the spears surged across the floor. I had to jump to the side to avoid one as it moved, but they didn’t attack — they simply moved to hover around him.

“Now, as I was saying. A solid spirit might not be able to benefit from what we’re offering, but as for the rest of you…”

“Kuro.” Mary’s eyes were filled with tears. “I’m…I’m so sorry for what happened to you. It’s…”

“Not your fault. You fought, you lived. That’s what I would have wanted. Now, of course, with greater context, I would have known that if you’d died along with me, you would have benefitted from…hey, stop that.” He turned toward Len, who was forming some kind of crystal in her off-hand. “Look, I’m just trying to have a conversation here.”

“There’s a ritual going that is about to blow up this entire spire,” I told him. “If you want to have a chat, you can help us shut that down.”

“Oh, that?” He seemed to ponder the suggestion, then shook his head. “Sorry, can’t help you. I didn’t like that plan, for what it’s worth. Too many irretrievable bodies. I can offer to get you out of here, though. You aren’t the ones he wants.”

“Sylvia Sanctum’s attempts to kill Mary earlier say otherwise,” Len noted.

Kuro blinked. “What? That’s not…” He frowned. “I suppose bombs do kill people, sometimes, when they’re as fragile as you are. An oversight, I suppose. But you know, if you were like me—”

I backed up toward Mary, both to protectively stand in front of her, and because our opponent’s chattiness gave me the time to plan something.

Mary had lowered her bow and was shaking, which wasn’t a good sign. Patrick was standing at the ready. Len had paused whatever she was doing with the crystal, but she still had a half-formed vessel of energy in one hand and her hammer in the other.

“I didn’t really know you,” I told him, “but given that you’ve compared us, and so has Vermillion, you probably would agree that someone is going to be less persuasive about their motives when it’s obvious they’re mentally compromised.”

“Reasonable,” Kuro noted. “But I’m largely in charge right now, as long as you don’t try to put me to sleep again. Sure, there’s an exterior influence, but my knowledge was sufficiently valuable that I’m of greater use when I remain myself.”

“Think on that,” I told him. “What happens when you’re not useful? Your autonomy could be taken away at any time.”

He frowned. “Can’t say I love that, but you do realize that visages could do the same thing, right? Any sufficiently powerful entity could rob us of our will. At least in this situation, I know what my bargaining chips are — and I’m more powerful than I’ve ever been. Therefore, I’m safer.”

“There’s a distinction between hypothetical capability to control someone and being known for doing it to entire planets worth of people.” I wanted to reach into the bag at my side, but he was looking straight at me, so I needed to wait for a window of opportunity. “You can’t really believe that the situation you’re in right now is comparable to being an ordinary human on Kaldwyn, can you?”

“No, not really. But I died as a normal human, Corin. Because this society isn’t working. Can you blame me for wanting to give another approach a shot? It’s not like I have any good alternatives.”

“What if we could free you?” I asked him.

Kuro chuckled, kicking his foot across the ground. “Stronger people than you have tried to fix the so-called ‘vek taint’. Not a very nice term for having a shade co-inhabit your body, by the way, but I get it. Anyway, you don’t have the means, and even if you did, I’m not like someone who got scratched and taken over. I was dead-dead. You get rid of the shade, I just go back to being dead.”

“That…is a bit of a problem,” I admitted. “But if you’ll surrender, and help us stop this, I promise to dedicate time—”

“No can do.” He shook his head. “Now, if you’ll surrender...”

“No.” Patrick stepped toward him, his sword’s light shining brighter. It might have recharged a bit after the brush with the void, or maybe it was his own power flowing through it. “We won’t. Never.”

“A shame.” Kuro turned toward him. “I’ve heard Rosie likes you, so I’ll do my best to keep you intact.”

While he turned to Patrick, I finally had a moment of distraction. I reached into my bag and pulled something out, shoving it backward toward Mary. “Get this on him. It’ll help.”

Mary blinked through tears. “I…I don’t know if I…”

There was no more time to argue. Kuro lifted a hand, and the spears of void shivered around him.

Patrick charged in, blurring with speed—

And slammed straight into an invisible wall. He stumbled backward, stunned, and spears lashed at him from all directions.

“Sorry,” Kuro said. “You weren’t the only one buying time.”

Patrick was too startled to react, but Len cursed and rushed in the way of the void spears, making a one-handed swing with her hammer. The first few spears it struck blasted backward, but after the fourth, her hammer began to flicker, and another caused it to vanish entirely.

Then she was wheeling back, more spears piecing through the floor to grab her legs—

Which began to flicker, just as her hammer had.

Oh, resh. She’s basically solid mana. If those things get a good grip…

I shoved the item from my hand into Mary’s, then rushed forward, sweeping Selys-Lyann low. A wave of cutting spirit mana crashed into the spears around Len’s legs, slicing through them. Len stumbled backward, blood flowing freely from where the spears had touched.

“You okay?” I asked, closing the distance to stand by Len. I didn’t like leaving Mary on her own, but Kuro clearly wasn’t focusing on her.

“Could be better. Hold him off for a minute? This is—”

Kuro laughed. “I can hear you. I’m not giving you time.”

He waved a hand and a pool of darkness appeared below us. I shoved Len to the side and jumped as the liquid shadow shot upward, enveloping the area where we’d been standing. It surged toward me.

I sent a blast of ice from Selys-Lyann’s blade into it, but only a small segment of it froze. The rest flowed right around the block of solid shadow, pursuing me as I hastily retreated.

As I retreated, Patrick rushed toward Kuro, lashing out at the translucent barrier around him.

“Not a chance,” Kuro told him, shaking his head. “And you wouldn’t want to succeed, anyway. My barrier is linked to the tower’s mana supply. If you somehow had the stopping power necessary to burst through it, you’d cripple the whole structure. All the enchantments on this thing, it isn’t structurally stable. You’d be buried alive.”

Patrick took a step back, pausing. “Huh. That’s a good plan.” Then he raised his sword and pointed it straight at Kuro’s chest. “One problem.”

“Oh?”

“I can see you, and you can see me. Which means…”

Patrick’s sword flared with brilliant light.

Kuro’s eyes widened. Then, just before his wave of shadows reached me, he made a yanking motion in the air and it swept out of my way—

Just a hint too slowly to stop Patrick’s blast of light from shining straight through the barrier without resistance. I’d fixed the little “light magic passing through barriers problem” for my sigils, but Kuro hadn’t.

Kuro rocked back as the blast of light hit him, burning straight through a shield sigil and a shroud to strike him in the chest. Patrick stepped forward, strengthening the beam as light flooded from his own hands into the sword’s hilt—

Then Kuro glared at him and spoke in another voice, smoke flooding out of his lips. “Eru volis mar sharu taris.”

Bright Reflection’s light guttered. My shield sigils flickered.

That was only the beginning.

Virtually every magical item in the room turned off.

I gasped as regeneration functions in my sigils ceased, my injuries suddenly feeling more real. But that wasn’t the worst thing—

Len was bleeding from…well, too many places.

She fell to a knee, gasping, clutching at her chest. A half-formed crystal fell from her limp fingers.

“That spell…” she mumbled. “That’s not…” She collapsed a moment later, insensate.

Kuro coughed, pointing at her with a hand wreathed in darkness. He was pale, struggling, his face covered in sweat. But he was still inside the barrier — his strange spell, whatever it was, hadn’t neutralized it. “You won’t get to solve that mystery. Maybe the real one will avenge you someday, if you’re lucky. Eru volar—”

“Stop it!” Mary shouted.

There was no attack. She just yelled at him, tears streaming down her face. And when he turned to her, he looked…conflicted?

He finished the spell anyway.

“—Shen taris.”

Blue-white flames blasted out of Kuro’s outstretched hand, straight for Len.

Patrick, holding a powerless Bright Reflection in his hands, jumped straight in the way. Mary screamed as the flames enveloped over him—

I rushed to Len. I knew what I was seeing. This wasn’t a suicidal sacrifice move. Patrick might have made ones in the past, sure—

But I knew Patrick. I knew who had trained him.

And throwing fire at Meltlake’s student was a serious mistake.

As I reached Len, I grabbed her and cast something I hadn’t used on anyone else. I didn’t have time to ask about it. I knew what she was, and the theory was sound.

“Spirit Art: Rapid Recovery.”

Spirit mana flowed from my body into Len’s, washing over her wounds. Her bleeding slowed, even as the flames around Patrick continued to gather—

Then collapsed into a single burning ball, held over his right hand.

“I’d say that’s impossible,” Kuro said, grimacing as he pushed himself up, “but given that you just did it, that would make me sound like an idiot. So, well done, very impressive. I won’t be taking any more chances with you.” He clapped his hands. “Eru volar—”

Patrick held the flaming sphere above one hand and pointed his other hand at Kuro. A blast of light lanced from Patrick’s hand, forcing Kuro to abandon his spell and conjure a field of void to block the light.

“Annoying. I—”

Bright Reflection’s light flared back to life. Kuro wobbled, looking from side-to-side, and then whispered something into the air.

A pair of humanoid shadows appeared on opposite sides of the room. Both looked more substantial than the shades we’d fought previously — they were wearing bone-like white armor and carrying spears of the same substance.

I didn’t think either were a serious threat. But one of them was in the doorway, and the other appeared right behind Mary, who still wasn’t fighting.

That latter shade raised a spear—

And, of course, Patrick rushed to help, leaving Len and myself vulnerable.

The other shade charged straight at us. I hastily cast a standard regeneration spell on Len, then stood up and parried the first spear-thrust—

And grinned as the bone-white spear I’d blocked began to turn to ice.

Almost all of my items had turned off, in spite of their anti-tampering enchantments. Even the best anti-tampering couldn’t do much about a spell that simply dispersed mana in general, which is presumably what Kuro’s effect had done—

But the problem with that kind of dispelling effect was that, as we’d seen with Mary’s fight against the Pale King, you can’t dispel anything that’s got too much mana. My higher-level items were safer. I didn’t have a lot of Citrine-level stuff, but my Belt of Swords was still working, presumably my armor was…

And Selys-Lyann?

Not only did the sword have its own mana supply, it was also linked into mine. Bright Reflection had been the main target of the dispelling effect, so it had been hit harder, but any soul-binding item was a lot tougher for a dispel effect to crack.

Which is all to say that I wasn’t as helpless as I’d felt a moment before, since my opponent’s spear was freezing over. I dodged the next swing entirely, then blasted myself forward with a quick jump spell, slamming my sword into the shade’s armored chestplate.

As expected, my sword didn’t cut through, but the ice spreading across it slowed the shade down. A hail of void spears manifested in the air right behind me, but I sensed them quickly enough to blast myself aside before they pin-cushioned me, then countered them with a blast of intense light from my left hand. That probably wouldn’t have worked with the first set, but when I dodged the next spear-strike to look at Kuro, he was barely standing and breathing heavily. Bright Reflection’s blast had taken a lot out of him, and he wasn’t running at full strength on any of his attacks anymore.

Patrick was engaged with the other shade, dodging and parrying, but he couldn’t get a clean hit in of his own. He wasn’t as practiced at melee combat as I was, nor did he have my Haste spell or training for extra speed. He’d blocked the thing from attacking Mary, but now he was simply falling back between attacks, still holding the flaming sphere over one of his hands.

“Switch and burn!” I told him.

He caught my meaning immediately.

As he dodged the next swing, I surged toward his opponent on a blast of transference mana and away from mine, leaving the shade that had been attacking me momentarily off-balance.

I landed behind Patrick’s opponent, and jammed my sword straight into a gap in the shade’s armor. Selys-Lyann flashed bright, my own mana flowing through it, and surged inside the shade, freezing it solid.

As that shade froze, shattering when it struck the ground, Patrick flew past me on a burst of air, then slammed the stolen flaming sphere straight into my original opponent’s chest. The frozen armor buckled and exploded as the sphere impacted it, then the creature’s chest simply vanished as the flames consumed it.

Both creatures burst into smoke.

“Annoying.”

Kuro clapped his hands. Four more shades appeared around the room, then eight.

I drew in a deep breath. My dispelled magical items were very gradually starting to kick back on, regenerating their mana, but Kuro appeared to be recovering faster—

Or, based on the way that blackness was bleeding into the veins across his face, perhaps simply pushing himself beyond reasonable limits.

Patrick and I lunged for two of the still-forming shades, trying to cut through them before they solidified. I managed to cut one, but Patrick had slowed down too much after his Body of Dawn had faded. The half-formed monster grabbed his sword, hissing and screaming as the light burned it, but that allowed another shade to form and prepare to strike from just behind him.

An arrow of light from Mary blasted straight through its face before it had a chance.

Mary had her bow in hand now. Her eyes were still red, her face still tear-stained, but she’d gathered her resolve.

Not enough, I considered, even as she loosed another arrow and banished another shade out of existence.

Our enemies were appearing too quickly. As long as Kuro was standing, as long as the barrier was standing…

The barrier.

He’d made it clear that breaking it wasn’t going to work because it was, supposedly, tied to the tower. But if there was a bond, it could be severed.

Sometimes I learn the worst things from my mentors.

I rushed toward the barrier, ducked under a swing from a shade, and pressed my hands against the ground.

There were no visible runes — Kuro hadn’t been that lazy. There was nothing for me to touch to activate the spell the way that I ordinarily did.

But what a spell like that did was create a connection based on the mana flowing between a person and a target. If I couldn’t see a valid target, but I knew that one was present…

A mana thread wouldn’t have been enough. But I’d been training mana manipulation since I’d first gotten started with my attunement, and I’d trained with ambient mana further for the Emerald Trials.

I didn’t just make a thread. I hurled a mana web around the entire barrier, sending it down, around, and even permeating into the stone itself.

And then—

Analyze Attunement Composition.

Information flooded my mind, both foreign and familiar. I’d hit something, a rune or something like it, but if I searched—

Well, I would have found something eventually, if a spear didn’t slam straight into my back.

I was, once again, incredibly lucky to be wearing actual physical armor under my shirt. Still, it hit me hard enough that I briefly lost my concentration on the spell.

An arrow blasted that shade a moment later and it wheeled back. I grunted, sending it stumbling with a blast of ice at its feet.

As it hit the ground, I grabbed a spear from one of the other shades, yanked it forward, then blasted it in the back to slam it into another.

The room was nearly filled with shades now, chaotic enough that such moves were possible, but I couldn’t count on another making that mistake. And while Kuro had been focusing on summoning more shades before, I was right next to him now—

He wasn’t going to give me time to do any complicated reading.

Not at that speed, anyway.

I took a deep breath.

Somehow, I always end up doing the ‘never do this’ thing. Here we go.

Analyze Attunement Compression—

And…Accelerated Computation.

Images flashed through my mind. I sorted them.

It was painfully simple, now. Or…maybe just painful. My head was hurting, which was not at all a good sign.

Still, as I shuffled through phantasmal papers in my mind, translating, sorting—

There.

I ripped a page apart.

The barrier collapsed just as a spear of void blasted through my abdomen. I fell backward, clutching my bleeding torso, my head slamming hard against the stone ground.

Patrick screamed something, but he was amidst a horde of shades, pressed back nearly against one of the walls.

Mary fired an arrow straight into the first shade that loomed over me, poised to strike, but another was quick to take its place.

And Kuro was raising both hands now, a halo of spears of void floating in his hands. “Try not to move too much, Cadence. This process goes a lot more easily if you still have a head.”

His spears began to spin above him, whirling faster and faster, until a green glow began to spread across the room. Vines grew across the stone, enveloping shades and yanking them downward, the green light burning deep into their bodies.

I blinked, turning toward the source of the light.

Len was struggling to her feet, still bleeding in a dozen places, but holding a now fully completed green crystal in her hand. “It’s not the right season, but this’ll have to do.”

The crystal in her hands flared, and an all-consuming aura of verdant light passed over her body, washing away wounds with its light. When it cleared, her body seemed to solidify further, her crimson hair shifting to green and brown, and the image of a stone-like pattern playing across her exposed skin.

Kuro saw the demonstration and frowned, pointing a finger. His spinning whirlwind of spears froze, then pointed straight at her. “That’s your plan? A fake Lydia uses a fake Vendria? If that’s the best you can do—”

Len punched the air. There was a crack like thunder striking, then Kuro flew backward, crashing into one of the tower walls and blasting straight through it.

I blinked at the display.

Blood ran down Len’s nose. She coughed, falling to a knee. Patrick rushed to her side. “That was amazing! Do you think you—”

“No, he’ll be back in a second.” Len shook her head. “We need to get out of here. Mary, come with us.”

“I…I…” Mary stammered, glancing out the wall where Kuro had been hurled.

“Sorry about this.” I walked over to Mary and took her hand, then pulled her toward Len. She walked with me without resistance.

The shadows in the room began to widen into jaws around us, preparing to snap shut.

Then Len — if she was still even Len — clapped her hands as we reached her.

We moved.

***

After teleporting, we found ourselves in the chamber where we’d fought Sylvia Sanctum, next to the still-active ritual that was overcharging the spire. Black cracks had begun to form in the floor around the ritual area, which was never a good sign.

Patrick scanned the room. “Looks clear. Mary, can you dispel this?”

“I…I guess I’ll try.” She took a wobbling step forward.

Kuro appeared right in front of her, in a swirl of darkness, shaking his head. There was blood splattered across his forehead, marring the mark of the Sun Eater, but he didn’t look angry. Instead, his expression showed only disappointment. “I can’t let you do that.”

“K…Kuro.” Mary took a step back. “Please. If you don’t let us stop this, everyone here will die. I’ll die.”

“I told you, I can get you out of here. Rosie, too, if you tell me where to find her. We’ve still got a solid two or three minutes before the place blows. And it’s not like the people in here are our friends, Mary. I mean, we have a couple, but—”

“Listen to yourself, Kuro.” Mary shook her head as the rest of us took positions to fight. “You never would have talked like this when you were…”

“Alive?” He shrugged. “Human culture has failed me more than once, Mary. We ran across the ocean to get away from one atrocity and ran straight into another. You were there for both. Playing by the rules these people set? It’s not working. But we could clear out the people here, start over with a clean slate. Make something new, better.”

“What you’re talking about isn’t better than what we had to deal with, it’s worse, Kuro.” Mary seemed to gather herself, striding forward, trails across her face from where she’d been crying. “Murdering everyone you don’t like on an entire continent? That’s not a ‘clean slate’. That’s just genocide wearing a silly hat.”

“It’d be a whole planet, actually,” he raised a hand, “just to be clear. And while it might technically be a little bit of genocide—”

“Stop, Kuro.” She set her bow down, stepping closer and opening her arms. “Please. Don’t talk like this. Come back to me. I need you.”

“Mary…” He gave her a soft smile. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m right here.”

He stepped into her embrace, pulling her tight.

“Kuro…that’s too tight, I…I can’t br—”

Shadows swarmed across the walls. Patrick swung around and sent a blast of light into a massive shade that was beginning to manifest, but it barely budged. Len tried to stand up, but wobbled on her feet.

I charged straight at Kuro, my sword raised high.

Kuro released Mary with one arm to point at me. A line of pure void shot through the air. I twisted to avoid it, but even with Improved Haste active, it still connected, tearing through my defenses with ease and leaving a bleeding hole in my right arm.

I hissed at the pain, but pushed forward.

Jump.

My sword came down. Kuro caught it in his hand, stopping the sword’s movement with ease. Frost spread across his fingers, but he ignored it.

“Won’t be long now,” he whispered to Mary. “I’ll hold you until—”

She squirmed in his one armed-grip, coughing, and finally managed to slip the ring on his finger.

“What’s—” He blinked at the band, his eyes widening, then released the grip on my sword to reach down with his frozen fingers—

“Stop moving. Don’t resist the enchantment.”

Kuro froze in place, ice still spreading across his fingertips.

Mary shivered in his grip, then slipped herself free, gawking. “W…what did that—”

“That’s the Ring of Derek Controlling,” I told her. “Long story, not a lot of time. Kuro, I command you to tell us anything you can about disarming the ritual. You may move only for that purpose.”

“I…don’t know any way to disarm it, aside from dispelling it. That’s why they wanted Mary out of play,” he told us. “And it might be too late for that, given the amount of—”

“Quiet,” I told him.

He shut up.

“Mary, do you think you can dispel this ritual?”

“I…I don’t know. I’ll…try.”

“I will assist her.” Len stepped forward, wiping away blood from her nose. “I know something of the Sun Eater’s foul magic.”

The voice she spoke with was not her own, but I had no time for questions or concerns. If Len was controlled by something else, it had been her own invocation that had done it, and I had some ideas on what she was up to.

Mary and Len stepped closer to the circle.

“Kuro, dismiss the shadows, void, and any other monsters or spells you’re conjuring. You may move and use magic only for that purpose.”

Kuro hissed, then closed his eyes. The shadows around the room vanished just before one was about to strike Patrick from behind.

Patrick lowered his sword, breathing heavily, then rushed to guard the two ritualists.

“Archer,” Mary whispered to her bow, “I’m sorry, I know you’re weak, but I’m going to need your help with this one.”

Her bow glimmered brighter for just a moment, as if in response, then Mary knelt down at the ritual’s edge. She reached out, her bow flying to one hand, and took Len’s hand in the other.

“Let us begin.”

I raised my sword to Kuro’s neck, just in case.

Then as Mary began to chant in an unfamiliar language, an aura of purest white spread out from her body and enveloped the room.

***

I don’t know how much time passed as Mary and Len chanted around that circle of blackness. It could have been minutes or hours. But finally, a tempo began to build, the air seeming to quake around us—

And then all at once, it settled, and the blackness in the floor began to recede into the black portal hovering in the air.

Mary spoke louder then, standing, and finally, she raised her bow in both hands, a single shimmering arrow forming at the drawstring.

When she released it, it quivered in mid-air, struggling to push forward until Len placed a hand on Mary’s back. Then verdant power flooded through Mary’s body and, as she gasped at the sudden surge of strength, the arrow shot forward and breached the darkness. The portal cracked and shattered like glass—

And then, finally, the world was still.

Len collapsed to the ground, the green and brown fading from her hair, the stone-like pattern vanishing from her skin.

Mary breathed an exhausted sigh, her face and skin covered with sweat. “It’s done.”

“Not quite.” I took a breath, then handed Selys-Lyann to Patrick.

“What are you doing?”

I reached into my pouch and pulled out an etching rod. “Remodeling. This tower’s lack of capacity runes for every mana type is a very serious design flaw.”

Chapter XXXIV – Retreat

It didn’t take long for me to make a basic capacity rune for every prime type that the tower was missing. The composite types would take longer, and I’d need to tap some help for that.

Or, I would have, if I was staying.

As soon as Len stirred, she assessed the situation, and then cast some diagnostic spells to check if there were any secondary rituals elsewhere in the spire. Which was good, because I hadn’t thought to check that.

Fortunately, while Kuro and Sanctum had planned for certain types of redundancies, that wasn’t one of them. I forced Kuro to tell us any further plan they had, and while a secondary ritual was on the list, he hadn’t activated it yet.

I noted where they had been storing the materials, then we sat down and forced Kuro to tell us any other agents of the Sun Eater he was aware of, both within the spire and otherwise.

After that, Len put him to sleep. With the ring still active to keep him from resisting, it seemed to keep hold this time.

“This won’t last forever,” Len told me. “The ring or the sleep spell. But I’ll find a place to store him.”

“St…store?” Mary asked. “What do you mean? Are you going to…”

“I’m not going to kill him.” Len put a hand on her shoulder. “The memory shrine has the ability to store people in crystals, similar to a stasis pool. We can hold him in that state until we have a solution.”

“Is there really a way to solve something like…” Patick gestured to the sleeping body.

“We won’t know until we experiment. But as a general rule, Patrick, that which is done with magic can be magically resolved. I can’t promise we’ll find a way to save him, but even just the ability to study someone in his state has tremendous value. And…if we just have to destroy the shade…” Len frowned. “At least, this time, you and Rose will have a chance to say goodbye.”

“…Oh.”

That was all Mary said. Then, she sat in a corner, curling up into a ball.

With the attack resolved, Len rapidly contacted Warren Constantine, then transported him into the chamber to investigate the room himself. She filled him in on what had happened.

“You did good work,” he told us. “This was very nearly a disaster.” He glanced at the runes I’d been drawing on the wall, then back to me. “It seems I had a slight oversight, didn’t I?”

“Just a minor one. No one really thinks to add capacity runes of mana types they’re not using. And you’re not using classical enchantments much at this point, anyway.”

“Still, I should have considered it.” He nodded. “I owe you my gratitude. But for now, I’ll have to fix the rest. You need to be going.”

“Going?” I asked.

“While you’ve done a great thing here, and I will happily extoll your deeds to anyone who would listen, chaos creates opportunity. There are people in this place that will take any chance they can to make you disappear. It would be best if you disappear on your own first.”

“The Dalenos Six,” I realized. “You think they’re going to take advantage of this to try to attack me?”

“As it happens, they’re already forming up outside the spire. They pushed outside with force, and now they’re waiting just outside the door. Of course, I’m sure they’d say that they’re just taking precautions for their own defense, but no, it’s definitely an ambush waiting to happen.”

I frowned. “But if I stay in here, do you think they’d come back inside and attack?”

“As soon as they realize the assault is resolved, yes. And Len and I are both quite drained from the attack — as are many of those who stayed inside to defend. If they were to teleport straight to you, I doubt we could fend off such an assault.”

“What if I went to the emperor for help?” I asked.

“She’s gone. Vanished during the attack. I don’t know where, nor do I have the resources to look,” he explained. “It’s best you gather your things rapidly, then go meet with your friends. I will do my best to cover your tracks, but you should expect to be followed. After what you did to the Hierophant, they’ll have murder on their minds.”

I gave him a somber nod. “Okay.”

I gave Mary a brief goodbye, then got ready to run. Patrick spent a few more moments with Mary, giving her a long hug and telling her to say goodbye to Vermillion, and assuring her that we’d all meet again.

It didn’t take long for Len to recover enough to teleport me to my room in the Underspire. Once there, I met up with Sera and Mara. They were both battered from their own defense against the shades below, but they’d managed to minimize the casualties among the monsters there by bringing them rapid warning and helping to coordinate the area’s defense.

Sera was looking better after releasing Seiryu’s invocation, but still unsteady. Mara looked…better than I’d seen her in a while, actually. The fighting seemed to do her some good.

With our team gathered, Len took us on one final teleport jump — out of the spire, now that the anti-teleportation defenses had been fixed through Warren re-establishing control over the tower.

We arrived in Pending. We wouldn’t stay long.

Elora Theas met us there along with Anabelle Farren.

“We need to get out of here,” I told them, summarizing the situation.

Farren nodded. “If you need to hide out for a while, I have the right place. And, now, finally…the right time.”

Epilogue – The Right Time

The old man stepped through edge of the sandstorm, his rotating shields of emerald-green light flickering as the sand whipped against them. As he approached the doors, he scanned each of them, knowing the symbols on all of them intimately.

They were some of the only things he remembered, now.

With a gesture, he tore the center door open, stepping through it into the next chamber.

A gigantic hourglass hovered in the center of the room, sand pouring upward from the bottom into the top. With a long-practiced gesture, he called a gleaming hand to tilt the hourglass to the side.

Distractions appeared around him. As the things manifested in the air, he snapped his fingers, hundreds of spears of density mana piercing them before they could finish materializing.

Then, he turned back to the hourglass, tilting it slightly in one direction, then the other, until he heard a “click”.

He didn’t bother to inspect anything further; he simply hurled another spear backward. The chamber’s guardian monster hadn’t even started forming yet, but it would. Or, rather, it would try to.

As the spear passed through the air, the guardian began to form — and the spear passed through the section where its eye should have been just as it solidified.

It died before it even had a chance to live.

Poetic, the old man considered. There were many like that, in the war, back when…

He frowned.

When had that been?

It didn’t matter. He had another war to finish, now. He strode to the next door, pulling it open.

The room ahead was filled with gigantic rotating gears. Distantly, he could hear the strokes of a pendulum swinging on a level high above.

Ah, it’s time for the end.

He cracked his neck as he stepped through the doorway, glancing upward.

Let’s begin again.

He pulled the tattered glove on his right hand tighter. He knew it was important, even if he could no longer remember his own name, or why he had it. All he knew was that the symbol on it was his — the symbol of his family, his people.

The seal of House Cadence.

THE END

Appendix I – Alternate Magic Sources

From Corin’s Notes, Shortly After Boarding the Train Toward the Emerald Council

My course on Alternate Magic Sources from the last semester gave me some additional insights into different areas of the world and how their magic works. This, combined with my books from Master Constantine, as well as Keras’ direct teachings, has allowed me to put together a better picture of how magic works outside of Kaldwyn, as well as how each of these seemingly distinct systems appear to be interrelated.

The foundational part, as far as I can tell, is certain structures in the body. Or, rather, sort of in the body, really kind of in a half-corporeal state between different parts of the “self,” which is complicated, but yeah. Starting there. Okay, let’s organize this.

Dianis Points. Those are probably the most important part of all of this. They’re places in the body (or self, technically) where magical structures can form into self-refilling containers. These containers are either called “Completed Dianis Points” or “Wellsprings” or “Vessels” or just “Mana Containers” or a bunch of other things depending on who you ask. A bunch of different types of magic involve making these containers and using them.

Star veins. These are structures that connect the Dianis Points to each other, as well as to the other parts of the self. Their naming convention is based on the fact that with one of the oldest forms of pre-Attunement magic, dominion sorcery, people used to be able to “call” mana from the stars into their bodies, then pass it through these veins and out through a Dianis Point. Then the mana could be “shaped”.

So, that’s dominion sorcery — calling mana from the stars, which are themselves a sort of intermediary that reaches into another plane of existence for power. Kind of mind-boggling. Anyway, we can’t do that anymore. Reasons vague. Constantine seemed to think Selys might be responsible somehow? Unclear.

Okay, so, we’ve got our mana collection spots and the veins connecting them as concepts. Great. Lots of different ways to use them.

Essence sorcery is probably the oldest? Unsure. Anyway, that involves using a bunch of mana from the environment to form a container yourself, which somehow allows the container (once made) to refill itself from the environment. The problem? Not enough mana on Kaldwyn to do this effectively, at least in most locations. I’m also not sure our physiology supports it anymore. There are some second-hand reports of people figuring out how to make a Dianis Point the “old fashioned” way through essence sorcery style techniques inside of spires, but I couldn’t find any verification that it’s actually possible. If it is, it probably only works for pre-attuned, since our attunements appear to actively attempt to prevent this. Reasons unclear; still digging into the sub-glyphs.

Crystal marks. Also super old; they’re from shrines connected to things called Gateway Crystals. Gateway Crystals, as far as I can tell, are the primary sources of ambient mana for the world itself. Every continent has one of each type, supposedly, and they’re the reason we get all the types of mana we need occurring out in the wild. A crystal mark is a bond with a Gateway Crystal that makes sort of an artificial version of a Dianis Point in the body to use as a focus, then connects that new Dianis Point with a star. The end result is something like a mid-way between an essence sorcerer’s Dianis Points and the ability to use dominion sorcery, only you’re doing it with extra steps, since you have the crystal as an intermediary.

For reasons that remain unclear, this still works just fine for us, even if most pre-attunement magic doesn’t.

It’s also worth noting that the connection with the gateway crystal occurs on something called the “spirit layer” of self, which is the same thing that spirit arts use, and it’s also the same layer of self that Summoners use for their contracts. It’s also how spirit-bonding items like Selys-Lyann and Dawnbringer can connect to people. The most important part of this is that apparently you only have a limited number of “slots” for these kinds of connections, each of which corresponds to a completed Dianis Point (or their artificial equivalent). Basically, you can’t have more than seven spirit bonds, unless you figure out a way to double up (which the Summoner attunement automates, but Sera tells me that it has limits).

Digressing for a moment. Early attunements were clearly based on some combination of a completed Dianis Point (which draws from the environment’s mana) and a crystal mark (which creates an artificial container that can be used to facilitate sorcery). My best guess is that Selys (or the visages, or whoever was actually organizing this process) reverse engineered how crystal marks were made, but wanted to make something that would function without a connection to the stars, and thus, modified the design result to more closely resemble a conventional Dianis Point.

From there, attunements were clearly expanded as new features were added — Meltlake told us a long time ago that things like shrouds weren’t in first-generation attunements, but beyond that, I think it’s likely that they didn’t have multiple mana types, either. Based on looking at the sub-glyphs in my own attunements, my strong suspicion is that original attunements did virtually nothing other than giving someone a pool of regenerating mana of one type to work with, much like an essence sorcerer’s Dianis Points. From there, somewhere down the line, someone decided that wasn’t good enough and started adding features. And more features. And more features.

I strongly suspect this is why some attunements appear to be much more basic than others; the visages (or others) involved in developing the attunements diverged in terms of design philosophies, which is why you see some regional area with a bunch of attunements built specifically around shrouds, and others where you get more complex and esoteric functions…much like my own Enchanter attunement, or Sera’s Summoner attunement.

I’m not saying that other contract attunements were probably jealous knockoffs of the original Summoner attunement, but, uh, I might be implying it strongly.

Notably, this means that first-generation attunements were probably strictly inferior to ours in many respects, and probably inferior to essence sorcerer’s marks, since I don’t think they progressed organically in the same fashion that “true” completed Dianis Points did. (My books don’t say anything about it, but I can’t see how an artificial Dianis Point would progress without a system built in to enable it, and those systems were not, as far as I can tell, implemented until later. As for how essence sorcerer Dianis Points do have a system that allows them to grow…I honestly have no idea. It might have to do with whoever set up that system, and by that system, I mean, uh, the human body? Unclear.)

Anyway, most of the power systems I’m aware of rely on completed Dianis Points (ordinary or artificial) and/or star veins as their principal means of operation and progression. There are, however, notable exceptions.

Firstly, spirit arts. I really, really want to learn about spirit arts, but most of the texts I’ve found — and Miss Haven’s lectures — have been infuriatingly vague. Forbidden knowledge, blah blah blah.

I figured out some things regardless, but without a first-hand source, it’s tough to verify.

So, basics. Spirit arts utilize things called dedications. Dedications are, as far as I can tell, taking a part of your spirit — which is apparently a real, physical thing that everyone has, just in a different universe that we’re sort of half-connected to by star veins — and turning that part of your spirit into a container. If this sounds a bit like making a Dianis Point out of your spirit, that’s because as far as I can tell, that’s exactly what it is. Spirit artists “dedicate” a portion of their spirit toward a specific invocation of the ancestor, which is, as far as I can tell, a very fancy way of saying that they make a spiritual Dianis Point that collects mana and allows it to be used (sometimes passively, sometimes manually) toward a specific function. Like, if someone says, “ancestor, make me strong” as their invocation, that invocation apparently carves out a chunk of your spirit toward the concept of being strong, and that part of your spirit then grants you power toward that purpose.

Intense. Also, apparently you can break your spirit if you invoke for something too complicated or powerful, so…that sounds bad? I don’t like that at all.

Anyway, this is all distinct from our spirit mana, but spirit mana can (to some degree) be used to emulate the effects of spirit arts. I’m trying to do this to simulate the stuff that Thorn did while he was controlling my body, but I’m not having a lot of luck so far. For what it’s worth, though, I think Thorn was faking the spirit arts himself — I don’t think the sword has dedications, and I certainly don’t. So, he knew how to convert spirit mana into the equivalent of certain dedication functions — which I suppose makes sense, given that Thorn is a fragment of the spirit of an evil conqueror god, or something — but I don’t understand enough about it to do the same.

Not yet. Working on it. On the list.

Oh, list. I miss when you were real.

Next, essence sorcerers on the continent of Dania have other ways of interacting with layers of self like the spirit layer that spirit arts deal with. My class didn’t go over these in any detail, but I did some of my own reading, and I’ve discovered some basics about some other types of things that they can do.

Rather than using dedications, essence sorcerers form spirit bonds, not dissimilar to my bond with Therin Thorn. Thing is, they seem to be able to bond to a bunch of other stuff aside from objects — most notably other people. This feels like an extension of what Summoners can do with monsters, but they can do it with other humans. Neat stuff, but I don’t have a clear method of reproducing it. Yet.

Aside from bonding to people, some powerful essence sorcerers can also bond to locations. This makes absolutely no sense to me, since locations don’t have spirits, at least as far as I’m aware. Clearly, I’m missing something, but it isn’t in any of my books. Researcher is being cagey again, so no luck on that, either.

Beyond the spirit layer, things get even foggier. There are other “layers of self” beyond the spirit, most notably the shade, which is involved in how the body recovers from injuries.

Essence sorcerers can get things called “shade weaves” that manipulate the baseline of what the body recovers to. This sounds absurdly dangerous, but incredible in terms of potential. For example, an essence sorcerer with a shade weave can modify their shade to have wings, which then become a part of your physical template, allowing for flight.

Thing is, there’s nothing that guarantees these wings actually work, or that they don’t, say, kill you by radically altering your physiology in a way that doesn’t work with the rest of your skeleton. So, experts only for this stuff. I’m interested in the potential here, but I wouldn’t get one unless it’s from someone who really knows what they’re doing.

There’s also a memory layer. No idea how that works. Something to do with powers based on your personal history? Neat concept, but I have no idea how it works.

Lastly, shal stuff. Right. Tyrenia. The shal.

I have no idea on that one, either.

I’m going to have to do some research on this later.

Let’s see how that works out this time around.

Appendix II – Attunements of Dalenos

From Corin’s Notes, Also Taken on the Train to the Emerald Council

I haven’t spent quite as much time studying these as the Restricted Attunements, since they aren’t as applicable to my own life and goals. As such, the descriptions below don’t have the same degree of detail, nor have I fully identified the Signature Functions of each of the attunements.

Acolyte: Acolytes are flexible healers, treating injuries, poisons, and diseases with equal ease.

Compound Mana Type: Blood

Signature Function — Bodily Purification: A function designed to simultaneously remove negative influences from the target’s body, such as poison and mental compulsions. This is reportedly a very useful tool when the specific details of a malady on a target can’t be easily identified; this function just tries to rapidly purge the body of outside influences in general, using water as a baseline and life to accelerate the function. I wouldn’t be surprised if some light mana is involved, too, but that isn’t one of the mana types they’re given directly.

Mana Types: Life (Primary), Water (Secondary), Perception (Tertiary)

Champion: Champions have a combination of powerful defensive abilities and crowd control, using enhancement spells to bolster their own combat abilities and ice magic to freeze their foes in place.

Compound Mana Type: Ice

Signature Function 1 — Crystalize: A function for rapidly and reliably hardening their shroud into an ice-like crystalline state. This is a powerful defensive function, but it can also be used for shaping the shroud into weapons and similar tools.

Signature Function 2 — Mind of Ice: A function for stabilizing the user’s mental state, allowing for near-complete calm and extreme resilience to mental effects. This function has been noted to have the downside that while it is active, acquiring and responding to completely new information and situation changes can be more difficult.

Mana Types: Enhancement (Primary), Water (Secondary), Mental (Tertiary)

Cloudcaller: Cloudcallers manipulate weather, calling rain and storms, and then alter these storms to cause specific magical effects.

Compound Mana Type: Rain

Signature Function 1 — Imbue Cloud: A function that imbues a conjured rain cloud with a spell, which then can rain down on a wide area. Spells imbued into clouds are much weaker than they would be as single-target spells, but have vast areas of effect. The critical downside is that these cannot distinguish between friend and foe. It's also noteworthy that the default mana types of the Cloudcaller are not particularly potent for most forms of combat, and thus, this attunement is often much stronger when paired with other attunements or magic sources.

Mana Types: Water (Primary), Air (Secondary), Perception (Tertiary)

Illusionist: While other attunements can make illusions, Illusionists are by far the most potent in terms of scale, capable of making large-scale illusions that create their own sounds and even influence the minds of potential victims.

Compound Mana Type: Sight

Signature Function 1 — Automate Illusion: I’m having a hard time confirming how this one works, but supposedly, it’s a function that allows the user to create an illusion that operates independently after being created. This sounds to me like a much more simplistic version of a simulacrum spell, but the idea that it might be achievable at even Quartz-level seems…difficult? I’m guessing that these illusions are short-lived and fragile, probably getting their adaptability from something like spirit mana (which isn’t one of the types granted by the attunement, but it’s plausible, since a lot of attunements have spirit-based functions without giving that type out). It’s also possible that they save in mana cost by not influencing all senses, but I haven’t been able to verify this.

Mana Types: Perception (Primary), Light (Secondary), Stone (Tertiary)

Seer: Seers are capable of capable of divining potential futures, making them one of the most powerful sources of information gathering in existence.

Compound Mana Type: Destiny

Signature Function 1 — Future Sight: When I first heard about the ability to see the future, I was hugely excited about the prospect and wondered why more people didn’t invest heavily in figuring out how to do it. Then I met Anabelle Farren and said, “Ooh, it makes you craaaaazy. Right.” Admittedly, I’m still not sure that’s what’s going on with her, but that seems to be the clearest explanation available. I think there’s probably more than just Seer stuff at work with her, but…yeah. Anyway, reading on this indicates that most Seers don’t actually “see” the future, exactly, so much as that their attunement function is built for some sort of extremely complex computations where it extrapolates from available to data to attempt to ascertain the most likely events to follow. This takes tremendous power, and the larger an area (and time period) it has to simulate, the more expensive it is and the less reliable it gets. A Seer of my level might be able to see ahead a few seconds in a tower room, which is useful, but not overwhelming. When applied to a specific task, this is more useful; for example, using Future Sight when looking at a padlock with three numbers is an effective way of processing information that could potentially be gathered but not consciously known and crunching that data rapidly to determine the code. It’s important to note that Seers have massive blind spots in terms of information that is not accessible from their location or otherwise blocked. For example, a Seer attempting to see the future in a room with Keras wearing his mask will have a vision that entirely omits Keras, because the spell can’t account for him while the mask is on. Thus, the results will be completely invalid. This makes Seers very useful under specific controlled circumstances, but much less so in terms of, say, trying to figure out the best numbers to bet on in a divination-blocked casino. (So much for that plan…)

Mana Types: Mental (Primary), Light (Secondary), Death (Tertiary)

Soulblade: Soulblades bind monsters to their equipment with contracts, creating powerful magical items with unique abilities.

Compound Mana Type: Spirit

Signature Function 1 — Contract: Like Summoners, Soulblades can create contract bonds with monsters.

Signature Function 2 — Infuse Item: When a Soulblade contracts a monster, they can then store that monster in an item to make it a magical item. I had a lot of misconceptions about this at first, but I think I’ve got it sorted at this point. Basically, what they’re actually doing is storing the monster in an extra dimensional space linked to the item as a focus. The monster stored inside is then used as a sort of battery, with mana from the monster drawn into the item to give it specific functions. This makes the monster linked to the item extremely vulnerable; if the item is destroyed, the extra dimensional space collapses and the monster is generally killed. This sounds like a really terrible attunement design and I’m pretty sure I could do better with it.

Signature Function 3 — Summon Monster: When a monster is infused in an item, it’s constantly drained of mana. As a result, summoning a monster out of the inside of the storage space requires a mana expenditure to move it out, as well as more mana to restore the monster’s mana to a point where it can fight. This is why summons for Soulblades cost so much more than Summoner spells — that, and my earliest examples of a Soulblade summons were from Derek, who required weeks to recharge his mana pool due to the mana levels in our area (which were high, but he’s an Emerald, and you don’t get Emerald-level mana saturation outside of spires and similar areas). Anyway, this also seems like a terrible design.

Mana Types: Light (Primary), Life (Secondary), Transference (Tertiary)

Wavewalker: Wavewalkers can shape the forces of motion to push and pull opponents, walk on water, or even float in the air. I’ve seen very few of these, but I’ve heard a few stories about a powerful traveling Wavewalker that is said to resemble an ancient Artinian “ninja” in style. Whether this is purely an aesthetic choice or a realistic description of the Wavewalker’s abilities remains unknown to me.

Compound Mana Type: Tides

Signature Function 1 — Surface Walk: I haven’t been able to get reliable information on how this works, but there are several stories of Wavewalkers walking on things that shouldn’t be walkable, like liquid and walls. My best guess is that this has something to do with gravity manipulation as a component of the attunement that utilizes Tides mana.

Mana Types: Water (Primary), Transference (Secondary), Perception (Tertiary)

Wayfarer: Wayfarers are best known for their ability to send messages at nearly any distance, which they can do without parallel. They’re also unusual in that they get access to both an additional base mana type and an additional compound mana type immediately, similar to Elementalists, but more extreme. My suspicion is that this is possible because the mana types they have are so much more similar than those of Elementalists, creating few acclimation conflicts. In addition to the signature functions below, it’s also believed that there are higher-level functions specifically for increasing spell range and efficiency.

Compound Mana Type: Communication, Travel

Signature Function 1 — Immediate Tertiary: Wayfarers gain access to their Tertiary mana type immediately.

Signature Function 2 — Immediate Secondary Compound Mana Type: As an even more impressive feature, Wayfarers also get access to Travel mana immediately, making them one of two attunements (the other being Summoners) that have relatively easy access to teleportation magic.

Mana Types: Air (Primary), Mental (Secondary), Transference (Tertiary)

Appendix III – Characters and Terms

From Corin’s notes

House Cadence:

Magnus Cadence — Head of House Cadence, father of Tristan and Corin Cadence. Presumably also the father of Sera Cadence.

Laura Lyran — Head of House Lyran, mother of Tristan and Corin Cadence. Emerald-level attuned with the Swordmaster and Elementalist attunements. Member of Valia’s Council of Lords.

Tristan Cadence — Elder son of Magnus Cadence and Laura Lyran. Disappeared into the Serpent Tower during his Judgment. Presumed deceased.

Corin Cadence — Younger son of Magnus Cadence and Laura Lyran. Presumptive heir to both houses after Tristan’s disappearance. Earned an Enchanter attunement in the spire. Was given a mysterious new attunement by Katashi, the Visage of Valor.

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’s my age and has a Summoner attunement.

Alaric Cadence — Legendary war hero of the Six Years War and famous Shaper.

University Staff:

Chancellor Wallace — She was in charge of all university activities. Deceased after the battle with Mizuchi at the Winter Ball.

Lieutenant Commander Jack Bennet — Vice Chancellor, former military commander.

Professors:

Professor Edlyn — Assisted with new student orientation. Teaches Enchanting class.

Professor Ceridan — In charge of Tiger Class. Teaches Elementalists.

Professor Lyras Orden — In charge of Serpent Division and member of the Whispers, an organization that secretly serves the visages. Orden was involved with a conspiracy to kidnap the visage Tenjin, and she betrayed me during a spire expedition in the middle of the first year.

Professor Vellum — Teaches classes on permanent enchantments. Served as my mentor for most enchanting-related studies during the first year. She severely hurt herself rescuing me and other students from Mizuchi during the Winter Ball.

Professor Conway — Teaches Attunements class. Died fighting Mizuchi at the Winter Ball.

Lord Jonathan Teft — In charge of Hydra Class. Teaches dueling.

Doctor Tordrin — In charge of Phoenix Class.

Professor Meltlake — General Magic Theory class. Legendary Elementalist and Patrick’s personal mentor. A former member of House Hartigan, she is Derek Hartigan’s aunt. “Meltlake” is a title that replaced her last name after a famous duel where she supposedly set a lake on fire. Has a persistent leg injury and walks with a cane.

Professor Vanway — Teacher for an unknown class. Not one of my professors.

Sir Tanath — A member of the Soaring Wings, and a Summoner. One of Marissa’s teachers.

Professor Vestan — Corin’s Introductory Runes teacher.

Professor Zou — A guest professor.

Professor Saito — Attunement Optimization teacher.

Professor Wydran — Intermediate Enchanting teacher. Wore a strange black uniform. Transferred me into a more advanced class.

Professor de Remy — Advanced Enchanting teacher for third-year students.

Professor Ezran — My Intermediate Mana Manipulation teacher.

Lady Anette Haven — My Alternate Magic Sources teacher.

Students:

Patrick Wayland — One of my childhood friends, now my first retainer. An Elementalist and magical weapon enthusiast.

Jin Dalen — A mysterious foreign student from East Edria with a Sunstone-level Mesmer attunement. His family is sworn to House Dalen, the former ruling house of East Edria from the days before it was under Edrian rule. He was badly injured after fighting against me in the Serpent Spire, but escaped using my return bell. We ran into each other again after that, but things have been strained.

Marissa Callahan — One of my classmates. Usually called “Mara” by her friends, but I’m still getting used to the nickname. She’s a Guardian and something of a prodigy for our year. In the second half of the school year, she began training with Keras Selyrian to learn his combat techniques.

Roland Royce — One of Sera’s friends and a former friend of Tristan’s. Diviner. I think Sera may be trying to get him as a retainer.

Cecily Lambert — The younger sister of Yunika Lambert. One of my closest childhood companions. Things between us are a little awkward, since Tristan was engaged to Yunika before he disappeared, and there was an implication that Cecily and I might eventually get married, too. And then there was the training with father…anyway, things are strained, but we’re talking again.

Curtis Maddock — Dorm chief for my dorm. I, uh, probably should have talked to him more. He has two attunements on the same arm.

Lisa Stone — Former classmate from my childhood.

Jordan Jaldin — A second-year student that supervised one of the teams for the first year’s final exams.

Katherine Winters — A second-year student that supervised my team’s first year’s final exams. Goes by Kathy.

Rupert Kent — Elementalist. Noble who was part of a family that tried to “adopt” Mara from her family when she was younger. Total creep.

Kyra Dyson — Shadow. One of the better duelists in our first-year class. A member of Roland’s testing team.

Loria Marshall — Elementalist and close friend of Kyra’s. Another member of Roland’s team.

Desmond Vyers — Shaper. One of the best duelists of our first-year class. A member of Roland’s team.

Holly — Third-year Enchanting student.

Gregori — Third-year Enchanting student.

Tylan — Third-year Enchanting student.

Lute — Another student of the non-human variety, although probably slightly less murderous. Unclear, to be honest. Swordsman. Possibly a literal sword? Not really sure, but he’s seemingly related to Keras somehow, which raises all sorts of questions. Suspect he’s extremely powerful, probably in the Emerald range. Uses strange sword techniques that may involve transcendence mana.

Vernon Tenson — Third-year student with dual attunements (Legionnaire and Guardian). Leader of Team Goddess’ Grace for dueling class.

Sandra Stone — Third-year student with a Sunstone-level Summoner attunement. Member of Team Goddess’ Grace.

Micha Sawyer — Third-year student. Diviner with an enhancement mana specialization. Member of Team Goddess’ Grace.

Jeremy Jaldin — Third-year student. Older brother of Jordan Jaldin. Shaper with a near-Citrine mana pool. Leader of Team Bloodline.

Tyler Sanctum — Third-year student. Sunstone-level Spellsinger and specialist in sonic attacks. Member of Team Bloodline.

Matthew Coin — Third-year student. Sunstone-level Elementalist with an air-specialized mark. Member of Team Bloodline.

Mary Hawthorne — Team leader of Team Skyseeker, one of the most powerful dueling teams of our year. Abjurer-style banishment abilities using a bow and arrow. Saw her during the fight with Mizuchi last year, but didn’t know her at the time.

Vermillion Rose — A member of Mary’s dueling team. Uses sword-enhancement magic, similar to a Swordmaster attunement and with some resemblance to Keras’ Pale Crescent.

Kuro Nightshade — A member of Team Skyseeker with a “classic wizard” motif. Extremely broad skill set. Probably an Enchanter, Architect, or maybe a Conjurer…unless he has a foreign skill set. It’s possible their whole team is using foreign magic, given some of their strange abilities.

The Emerald Council — Staff:

Warren Constantine — Master of the Sorcerer’s Spire, a human-made attempt to replicate the Soaring Spires, and primary host of the Emerald Council. A former Enchanter and Arbiter, Warren is an eccentric who, fearing some of the secrets he discovered deep within the sub-glyphs of his attunements, deliberately destroyed them. Now, he relies on older forms of power tied to the gateway crystals, but his overuse of mental-related abilities has caused his mental health to gradually decline. He was kind to me when we met, offering me advice and books from his earlier days, and warned me about activating the functions beyond Citrine-level in my attunements. I, of course, did it anyway.

Len Hastings — A magically-made copy of Lydia Hastings, a close friend of Keras from his homeland. Len was created as a part of one of the challenges Keras faced in the Spirit Gateway Shrine, and when he reached the crystal, he used his boon to preserve Len’s life rather than ask for what he was originally planning on. As a result, Len survived the test rather than being dismissed like a normal summoned being, and began to live a life of her own. She met us in Caelford last year, then brought us to the Sorcerer’s Spire, where she and Warren are harboring a number of summoned monsters that appear to have escaped or been freed from their service to live out their own lives. As a copy of one of Keras’ companions, she is a formidable sorcerer, though I have primarily seen her use teleportation.

The Emerald Council — Valian Representatives:

Elora Theas — Heir to House Theas, an ancient noble house. She’s an Emerald-level Summoner, Derek’s former paramour, and has a contract with the God Phoenix. She’s also heavily involved with the same conspiracy that my brother is, but I don’t know what her real goals are.

Alexander Theas — Elora’s cousin and a member of House Theas that fought in the Tournament of the Sacred Sword when Keras was present nine years ago. He was already formidable back then and likely is even stronger now.

Sylvia Sanctum — An Enchanter and older sister to Tyler Sanctum, one of the students from Teft’s dueling class.

The Emerald Council – Dalen Representatives:

Lord Admiral Norima — One of the Dalenos Six. A massive physical powerhouse, Lord Admiral Norima is a combination of a Wavewalker and Soulblade, with compounding transference mana for incredible speed.

Hierophant Setsuna Saito — One of the Dalenos Six and bearer of the Hierophant attunement. She is the high priest of Katashi.

Suzuki — One of the Dalenos Six. A Conjurer/Summoner, allowing him massive flexibility for monster summoning, teleportation, and conjuration powers.

Takeshi Kurita — One of the Dalenos Six during the time of the Tournament of the Sacred Sword and a powerful multi-attuned with two enhancement-focused attunements. Apparently, no longer a member of the Dalenos Six.

Takeshi Tetsurin — Kurita’s son, aspiring to follow in his footsteps, and also carrying two attunements.

The Emerald Council – Caelish Representatives:

Anabelle Farren — As previously noted, the owner of Farren Labs and single most important person in the industry of creating artificial attunements. Responsible for the creation of the prototype “god beast attunements” that were involved in the series of events I stumbled upon at the Serpent Spire. Speaks as if she sees the past and future concurrently with the present or something, potentially because of some kind of experimental attunement, or possibly indicating an inhuman-nature.

Nakht — Farren’s taciturn bodyguard, Nakht possesses a strange, terrifying flickering aura unlike anything I’ve seen anywhere else.

Kamaria Clarent — A powerful Forgemaster who fights in potent enchanted armor. She appeared in the Tournament of the Sacred Sword and was one of the few potential targets of the Sun Eater’s harbinger, Akadi, that actually survived his machinations.

The Emerald Council – Edrian Representatives:

Emperor Edria Song — The former crown princess of Edria, now ascended to their throne as emperor, Edria Song was marked at birth as the chosen of the visages with six attunements. When she made an appearance at the Tournament of the Sacred Sword a decade ago to claim her father’s sword, Diamantine, she was able to fight against several Citrine and Emerald opponents in a demonstration without a single scratch. She was reported to have six Emerald-level attunements at that time and is likely the single most powerful human on Kaldwyn, if not the planet as a whole.

Hannah Meiyer — The Royal Executioner, an Emerald-Level Executioner and member of the Edrian royal guard.

Other People:

Lars Mantrake — Shopkeeper for the Climber’s Court, a magic item shop. As a former climber, he has many stories of the spires, almost half of which are probably true. He told me a bit about Selys-Lyann, my sword, and I think he may have seen it in the past.

Keras Selyrian — Mysterious foreign swordsman that I first encountered during my Judgment. Keras was my mentor and in swordplay and protector for much of my time at Lorian Heights. He rescued me from Saffron, a Child of the Tyrant in Gold, during the second half of the school year. After rescuing Patrick from the Sons of Valia in our second year, Keras was reunited with a friend from his past — the legendary sorceress Wrynn Jaden — and left to confront the Sun Eater, a potential world-ending threat.

Echion — He’s a kid with an experimental artificial attunement that I rescued during my Judgment. His strange attunement seems to be based on god beasts, rather than conventional attunements. I plan to study that style of thing eventually.

Vera Corrington — Tower explorer that I first encountered during my Judgment. I broke her out of a cell, then she stabbed me in the back. Eventually, I found her and escorted her back to the tower, where she turned herself in to Katashi to help prevent collateral damage from some of her actions related to ambushing Tenjin, one of the visages.

Aloras Corrington — Automotive engineer. Vera’s brother.

Derek Hartigan — Heir to House Hartigan, an ancient noble house. Has an Emerald-level Soulblade attunement. We spent the second half of the school year living at his place.

Tavare — Derek’s Summoned blade elemental. Refers to themself as Radiance, which is kind of weird.

Delsys — Derek’s Summoned flame/wind elemental.

Sheridan Theas — Elora Theas’ sibling, and a follower of Wydd. Wields the restricted Necromancer attunement, but specializes in healing. Derek usually refers to them by the nickname “Deni”. May or may not be flirting with me. Aaaaaah.

Vanniv — A summoned karvensi. Both Elora and Sera have contracts with Vanniv. Somehow fashionable, even when shirtless.

Researcher — A knowledge elemental that resides in the restricted section of the Divinatory.

Yunika Lambert — Cecily Lambert’s older sister, and Tristan’s former fiancée. Still not sure on her angle on all the politics going on.

Meredith Hawkins — A historical figure who supposedly escaped one of the spires after several years of being trapped inside. Commonly believed to be a con artist.

Johannes Edington — An academic who attempted to enter a Judgment and stay inside as long as possible in order to preserve memories of what the rooms looked like. Emerged a few months later and published a paper on his findings.

Nakht — A worker for Anabelle Farren at Farren Labs with a strange, shifting aura.

Kahi Zephyr — A guide for Farren Labs.

Ashon — A researcher for Farren Labs with a bit too much interest in my Arbiter attunement.

Archduke Verena — The leader of an Edrian noble house many years in the past. He is seen, along with other members of his family, in a constructed scenario inside the Tiger Spire.

Dalen Mitsurugi — An ancestor of Jin Dalen in a constructed scenario inside the Tiger Spire. He was a wielder of Soulbrand, the Sacred Sword of Fire. Note that he uses the Dalenos naming style, meaning “Dalen” is his surname, not his personal name. I wonder if Jin prefers that and simply used our naming style while visiting Valia?

Jerome Schmidt — An Edrian noble and son of Kaspar Schmidt, who fought my great grandfather in the Six Years War. I studied his fighting style in my childhood.

Emma Verena — One of Archduke Verena’s daughters in a part of the fourth-floor test in the Tiger Spire.

Emery Verena — One of Archduke Verena’s daughters in a part of the fourth-floor test in the Tiger Spire. Sera formed a contract with her and helped her escape the spire as a summoned monster, after which she stayed at Lorian Heights with the intention of becoming a student in the next school year.

Anthony — A manservant for House Verena in a part of the fourth-floor test in the Tiger Spire.

Lady Nora Haven — A member of House Haven in a part of the fourth-floor test in the Tiger Spire.

Caelyssa Ves — Goes by “Lys”. A retainer of House Haven in a part of the fourth-floor test in the Tiger Spire.

Constant Beaufort — A member of House Beaufort in a part of the fourth-floor test in the Tiger Spire.

Spirit Gateway Crystal — A sentient crystal in the Unclaimed Lands that created challenges for Keras when he entered a shrine.

Transcendence Gateway Crystal — A sentient crystal in the Unclaimed Lands that offers challenges for those that enter the crystal’s home.

Roy — An entrant who once faced the Transcendence Gateway Crystal’s challenges.

Elina Maryn — An entrant who once faced the Transcendence Gateway Crystal’s challenges.

Kester Boyd — An entrant who once faced the Transcendence Gateway Crystal’s challenges. Apparently worked with Lars Mantrake.

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. Currently missing.

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. Believed to be virtually invulnerable.

Satsuki — A descendant of Seiryu, the God Serpent. Apparently she’s a “murder serpent”, which is just as comforting as it sounds. She’s also enrolled as a student. Seems to like me, which is, uh, absolutely horrifying? Why, universe? Why?

Other Powers:

The Tyrant in Gold — A divine being that is antithetical to Selys, and believed to be comparable to her in power. The scriptures teach that he is in control of the entire world outside of Kaldwyn.

Saffron — A Child of the Tyrant in Gold. Tremendously powerful, most likely on a similar level to Mizuchi.

Major Nations:

Valia — Nation on the eastern coast of the continent of Kaldwyn. Home to the Serpent Tower 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

Wyddsday

Acknowledgements

First off, thanks to everyone for reading this book! I appreciate you. This book has been a strange ride, and I appreciate the patience of readers waiting for it.

Next, I’d like to thank my literary agent, Paul Lucas, and his assistant, Eloy Bleifuss, for their constant help throughout the process of getting these books done.

Thanks to the team at Podium for all their assistance with the audio side of this series, especially Victoria Gerken for really going the extra mile with some of my requests.

I’d also like to thank Nick Podehl, my amazing narrator, who has served as one of my primary collaborators since my very first book. Similarly, I’d like to thank Daniel Kamarudin, my cover artist, who has handled every cover for both this series and the others I’ve written in this universe to-date, as well the awesome art for the Kickstarter premium hardcover versions of my books.

Thanks to Shawn T. King for making the now-iconic graphic design style that I’ve used since Book 2 of this series, as well as a tremendous amount of awesome work on the Kickstarter hardcovers.

Thanks to all my beta readers, including: Tobias Begley, Baird Bedient, John Bierce, Eli Brandt, Carly D., Doug Driggs, Connor Estes, Yvonne Etzkorn, Krista K., Markus Kemppainen, Tyler L. Kowalchuk, Sarah Lin, Jonah L. L., Anthony Mulder, Ronnie Nichols, Jordan Nohle, Embyr P., Andrew Ritchie, Rebecca Reeves, Bruce Rowe, Christine Rowe, Lorne Ryburn, Will Wight, Brandon Yee.

The title for this one is a reference to a quote by Francis Bacon, “The master of superstition is the people; and in all superstition wise men follow fools; and arguments are fitted to practice, in a reversed order.”

Similar Works

I’m often asked for recommendations for books similar to Sufficiently Advanced Magic.

If you’re looking for another magical school story with a protagonist that does a lot of research into how magic works, I would recommend the web serial Mother of Learning.

If you’re looking for another book with a lot of anime-flavored combat scenes, I’d recommend the Cradle series by Will Wight and the web serial Forge of Destiny.

If you’re looking for more books with strong RPG inspiration, there are a couple up-and-coming genre labels to look for.

“LitRPGs” tend to literally take place in a video game, or in a world that has overt RPG mechanics, such as character classes and levels. Some classic examples include the .Hack series and Dream Park by Larry Niven and Steven Barnes. If you’re looking for one of these, I’d recommend Ascend Online by Luke Chmilenko and the web serial Delve.

There are a number of places to find great LitRPG recommendations. For example, there’s a large LitRPG Facebook group that can be found here. There is also a LitRPG subreddit, which can be found here.

“GameLit” is a slightly broader genre that includes game-inspired fiction in general. Ready Player One by Ernest Cline would be a good example of this.

If you’re looking for an online community for more GameLit recommendations, you may want to look at GameLit Society group. There’s also a more general GameLit group. There’s also a GameLit subreddit, which can be found here.

Closing Notes From the Author

Thanks for reading this, everyone. I’ve historically said that this series will be either six or seven books. As I worked through the beta process on this one, I went back and forth on that subject repeatedly, and ultimately decided there’s still too much story to tell to resolve it in one more book. And so, we’re likely going to be seeing two books after this one. Book 6 is going to be a bit shorter than usual, however, as it is largely about tying up loose ends and preparing to lead into the finale.

As always, if you enjoyed this book, please consider rating and reviewing it. Arcane Ascension is self-published and relies heavily on ratings and reviews.

If you’re looking for something else to read in the meantime, my most recent series, The Lost Edge, launched last year. The first book, Edge of the Woods, is out now. The second book should be out soon and a preview chapter is included below. It’s an out-of-context scene from a little after the beginning of the book, since I prefer to show previews that focus on action over plot spoilers.

For those of you waiting for more Weapons & Wielders and War of Broken Mirrors content, those are still planned, but will take a little longer.

Thanks again for reading!

-Andrew

Preview Chapter – Edge of the Dream

I saw the threats before I hit the ground. Six bat-like koshari, their nature apparent through both their large size and their wings formed from elemental power. Two fire-winged beasts, two ice, two lightning. A classic set. They would use their element to attack from a distance or alter the terrain.

Even as I descended, the first wave of their assault was pouring toward me. I tore through fire and lightning with ease, but the ice froze against my sword’s blade, and I had to smash it against the ground to clear the growing frost.

That opened me up to the charge from the next of the monsters — a massive bull-like creature with four horns.

The corridor was about twenty feet wide with walls of carved stone, not unlike what I’d read of des’vahi mountain pathways. Support pillars were present every ten feet or so, holding up the ceiling, which was maybe fifteen feet up.

I jumped behind one of the support pillars, hoping to arrest the bull monster’s charge. That technically worked, but not in a “bull conveniently rams the pillar and stuns itself” sort of way like I’d expected. Instead, the moment I got behind the pillar, the bull abruptly stopped and stood up on its hind legs, then began to inhale.

Breath attack, I processed immediately. I charged to close the distance immediately.

My unexpected response was the only thing that saved me from the ambush, as a green-skinned humanoid lashed out from the shadows behind the pillar with a jagged obsidian knife.

Even as the knife missed, the small humanoid vanished back into the darkness. That creature, at least, I recognized with a hint of concern — a gen, one of the buried that was descended from The Frog, the Origin Beast of Poison.

Such creatures were the pinnacle of poison themselves — their skin, saliva, and blood were all hideously dangerous in different ways. There were different types of gen, but I didn’t have an instant to think about that, because the bull exhaled before I could finish my charge. The creature’s breath wasn’t flame or ice like I might have expected, but rather a cloud of some kind of gas.

One of the bats was in the way. It turned to stone as the gas flowed over it, then fell to the ground and shattered.

That’s bad, I considered as I rushed straight into it.

I flared deflection-aspected sword essence around me, blasting away the gas as it approached my skin. Then, pushing straight through the gas cloud, I swung my sword across the bull’s chest.

I didn’t bother to wait to see what happened next. One swing, then I was running beyond the bull, getting as far as possible from the petrifying cloud.

I heard the bull collapse behind me in two pieces, but I couldn’t feel any relief. I’d hit something in the ground that made a click.

I jumped forward. It was the wrong instinct. A scything blade swung down from the ceiling in front of me, and now I was in the middle of its path.

I swung horizontally, tearing the blade in half, and sending a flicker of deflection-aspected essence into it on contact.

The two halves of the severed scythe flew wide. One slammed harmlessly into a wall, embedding deep into it. The other, however, tore one of the still-pursuing bat-like monsters in half.

I laughed as I landed.

Got you!

That was, predictably, where the pit I’d jumped to avoid was actually located.

The ground dropped out beneath me, revealing a pit of gleaming spikes. I slammed my sword into the wall as I fell with the flat side facing up, my arms jarred by the force of the impact, but it wasn’t a long descent. Even with my quick reaction, my boots brushed the top of the spikes, and the elementally-themed bats were rapidly catching up to me.

Sword Hand.

I pulled myself upward with one arm on my sword, then cut into the wall with my Sword Hand, holding myself in place with that. Then, I twisted my actual sword and cleaved upward, rotating it to form a hand-hold again.

One blade after another, I climbed, but I could hear a scraping sound as the pit’s cover began to close above me. I reached for the closing ceiling as I approached. If I could get a grip on it, I could pull myself up—

A blast of lightning struck me in the back. Electricity flowed through my body. It wasn’t a strong attack — the bats were Candle-level at best — but it was enough. My fingers slipped free of the stone.

The ceiling closed above me.

…And the walls began to close in.

Oh, come on. Are you kidding me?

I’d managed to keep hold of my sword, so I was still hanging suspended over the spikes, just below the now-closed roof. I did what came naturally, next—

I punched the ceiling, blasting a hole straight through the stone. Again, then again.

The walls closed faster and faster.

Shatter.

I smashed my fist upward, channeling my Shattering Sword through it. The ceiling exploded into pebbles.

I hauled myself up through it, tearing my sword straight through the stone wall as I climbed.

The frog-like gen was there when I came up. He jumped in with a lunge.

I was in no mood for his antics, now.

My free hand caught his wrist, a hint of scabbard-aspected essence forming around my hand to protect myself from any contact poison that might pass through my gloves.

Then, as he attempted to slip back with panic in his eyes, I brought my sword down. It passed through the creature’s body with no resistance.

Then, I spun, hurling the rapidly de-materializing half of the gen I was still holding onto into the lightning bat that had shot me while I was climbing. The bat screeched as the body slammed into it, falling to the ground. I walked over, ripped a shattered half of the scythe trap out of the wall, and brought it down on the fallen bat.

The other bats fled after that.

Then, briefly, I was alone.

I cracked my neck, rested my sword against my shoulder, and continued walking down the hall.

All that killing and somehow, the blade still shined pure and clear.

In retrospect, perhaps I should have seen that as a warning sooner than I did.

***

There were many types of Buried. Each was, in theory, a form of monster descended from — or at least created by — one of the Origin Beasts. They’d all been sealed beneath the world after their progenitor, the Maker of Monsters himself, had been defeated.

I knew of many types of Buried. Rashan, the eight-legged panther-like beasts with skin that resisted cuts and piercing. Illkain, eye-stealing shapeshifters. Vosh, humanoid serpents of stone and steel.

I’d studied the Buried in depth, both due to Gramp’s love of history lessons and my own interest in knowing monsters and their weaknesses. I wouldn’t say I was a scholar of the Buried, but I’d like to think that I had about as good of an idea as a professional monster hunter, given the advantages of my upbringing and my close proximity to where the Buried had been sealed.

I had no idea what the creature standing at the end of the tunnel was.

It looked vaguely like some kind of great ape — an orangutan, maybe — except it was about twice as big as it should have been and had about three times too many arms.

Each of the six arms held a colossal sword, and on its massive head, it wore a spiked crown.

“Greetings, great one,” I said. “You appear to be the lord of this place. I am seeking pass—”

He threw a sword at me. That was rude. I was talking, and also, that was no way to properly treat a sword.

I swept my sword to the side, attempting to deflect the projectile with the smallest possible movement I could, like Red had taught me.

I’d underestimated the force a twelve-foot ape-beast could use to throw a weapon. But more than that, I hadn’t expected the magic of the blade that made it weight more than a hundred times what it should have.

When the flat of my sword pressed against the thrown sword, my blade didn’t even nudge it. Before it could skewer me, though, I pushed harder, and the force knocked me out of the sword’s trajectory.

I stumbled from the sudden shift, then sensed the sword essence of the blade shift behind me. It had flipped around as it passed me, and now it was sweeping spinning as flew backward toward the ape, like a giant bladed boomerang.

I jumped on top of it, stumbling briefly as I steadied itself, then rode the spinning blade as it flew back toward the ape’s hand.

The ape snorted audibly as it reached out for the flying blade.

I leapt off the flying sword and brought my sword down in a rapid swing, straight for the monster’s head.

Three swords flashed upward at the same time. One parried my own sword, my silver meeting steel, and the other two swept straight at my chest.

I tucked my legs upward, letting one sword pass underneath, then kicked the other in the flat, trying to slam it into its own wielder. The sword flew back as I’d hoped, but only an inch — this sword didn’t behave like the one he’d thrown, but the ape was still massively strong, even with a single arm.

I’d barely reached the ground when two other arms were swinging at me. I parried them both with my own, but the force of the blow launched me backward, sending me skidding across the ground.

Six arms. Six swords. I don’t know what you are, but I’m going to call you an ashur-ape.

I ducked another swing that came without warning, a single sword that tore through the air above me, in spite of the ashur-ape now standing more than a dozen feet away.

He didn’t follow up that attack with another from the other swords, though, and I began to see the puzzle.

Middle-right sword can perform cuts at a distance. Classic air slash technique. Top-right sword throughs the weighted boomerang sword.

As if responding to my thoughts, he hurled the boomerang sword again. This time, I didn’t try to stop it. Instead, I danced around it and tried to grab the hilt with my free hand, hoping whatever enchantments on it would respond to a new wielder and allow me to hurl it back.

I felt something as my fingers brushed the hilt, a connection, but I couldn’t secure my grip quickly enough before it ripped free. Then, I was forced to jump as the ashur-ape swung downward with his ranged-cutting sword, cleaving a broad cleft into the ground beneath me.

The cleft wasn’t deep, but my ankle hit the side of it, causing me to stumble as I landed.

That nearly cost me dearly as the boomerang-sword swung backward, right toward my neck.

I leaned back, avoiding the cleave, then raised my own sword in the way before it could swing back around. The next spin of the sword crashed into my own, causing me to trip and fall flat on my back.

I hit the ground hard.

And the ashur-ape moved forward for the first time, leaping straight above me, and bringing five swords down at once.

I rolled on the ground, five swords smashing downward in a series of cuts that I desperately avoided. I swung upward at the ape’s ankle, but it simply stepped disdainfully over my swing, then tried to bury my sword beneath its heel.

I pulled my sword back before it could, then rolled on the ground and hopped to my feet just in time to catch another horizontal swing from the middle-left sword — which hurled me backward straight into one of the cavern walls.

It knocked the wind out of me. I coughed, falling to my knees. That meant that the next ranged swing ended up cleaving the wall right above me, rather than tearing me in half.

I’m losing, I realized.

I grinned, tasting blood on my teeth.

I want more.

I charged.

***

A testing swing at the knees, parried.

A swing up toward the face, dodged.

A lunge straight at the chest, deflected.

My hands flowed in a rhythm of movement, my feet shifting as I pressed my assault, but I wasn’t making headway. Even with superior technique and speed, I was fighting with one sword against six, and any actual gap in our swordsmanship was less significant than I would have hoped.

Has he been training down here? Are there more sword-wielding monsters?

I didn’t have time to consider it in detail.

The middle-left sword swept at me and I had to shift my sword beneath it. Absence of blade was a strategy for avoiding unwanted contact between weapons — such as, for example, when your opponent’s sword seemed to discharge a burst of force on contact. When his blade crashed into the ground next to me rather than my sword, stone exploded on contact, leaving a wide furrow.

I lunged in again, trying to exploit the opening, but one sword being in the ground just meant that five were still available. He deflected my sword easily.

I side-stepped his next swing, trying to inch in closer. He was strong, fierce, but sloppy. If I could keep tying up his attacks with the terrain—

Another sword slammed into the ground at my side and I felt a smile cross my face, right up until strange stalagmites of crimson metal shot up from beneath my feet.

I’d like to say I danced backward or something equally elegant, but really, I half-stepped and half-stumbled. One of the spikes left a gash along the back of my right leg as I retreated, but I managed to twist to avoid letting it pierce all the way through my thigh as it rose from the ground.

Even so, it was a significant wound, and the type that could turn a fight rapidly into a failure.

Like, for example, when his middle-left sword flashed straight at the middle of my face.

If I’d been stunned by my wound…well, I don’t know what would have happened, exactly. In theory, the tests were supposed to non-lethal, but accidents happened. Maybe some ancient magic would have teleported me out the moment the blade brushed my face.

I absolutely couldn’t count on that.

Fortunately, I wasn’t stunned. If anything, the wound had renewed my focus.

I braced myself, favoring my injured leg, and met that sword with my own.

I knew what would come next, because I’d identified which sword he was using. The swing blasted me back with explosive force, carrying me toward one of the chamber walls.

I braced to catch myself with my good leg, ready to launch myself off the wall and straight into another attack—

But the ashur-ape wasn’t going to stop with a single attack at a time. He slammed another sword into the wall. The attack was nowhere near me, but it was the same one he’d used a moment before — top left.

Oh, no.

I slammed my sword into the ground to stop my movement just before the spikes shot out of the wall in front of me. I couldn’t completely stop my momentum, and I didn’t feel like being impaled, so I swept my left hand upward.

Sword Hand.

I cleaved through the protruding spikes before they could impact me, then heard something shifting to my side—

The ashur-ape was swinging again. Middle-right.

Still staggering from a rough landing, I dismissed my Sword Hand instantly and grabbed my sword’s hilt with both hands, ripping it up from the ground and slicing through the wave of cutting force. His attack ripped to pieces around me, dissipating harmlessly.

I laughed. This was so much fun!

I gave the ashur-ape a winning smile as I stepped closer, ready for his next move.

There must have been something about that smile, because the ashur-ape took a single step back.

He’d switched to a guard stance. Wary.

Good instincts, but a little late.

I knew how four of his swords worked. Maybe not completely, and four swords wouldn’t be the full scope of his abilities. Even if I knew how all six functioned, he might have other powers. But I’d seen enough to change my approach, and long battles of attrition weren’t my style.

Sword essence flared around my blade.

He was big and strong, powerful and predictable.

Middle-right.

His sword struck out before I could come into reach, this time at a diagonal. I released one hand from my grip, just for a moment, and slammed an essence-bearing fist into the side of it.

The shockwave slammed into the ceiling above me, cleaving deep.

Another step forward.

Top-right.

He hurled the boomerang-like sword. I stepped around the blade, grabbing the hilt with my off-hand.

Scabbard.

My hand formed a cage of scabbard-aspected essence around the sword’s grip. Force carried me a step off my path, but I maintained my grip successfully, spinning along with the sword’s motion and stepping out of the way of another middle-right sword swing. Then, I slammed the boomerang-blade into the cavern wall.

It twitched in place, as if trying to wrest itself free. I slammed a hand onto the pommel, driving it deeper, then stepped forward again.

One step, two. More power flowed through me as I stepped into the beast’s reach, which in spite of my sword’s massive size, still exceeded mine.

Middle-left.

I gripped my sword in both hands, then stepped to the side, letting the swing miss. He’d anticipated that and his top left sword was already moving, cleaving downward.

Another side-step, then…

Bottom-right.

His sword came up at my legs—

Then split into pieces, swarming me from all sides.

I hadn’t seen this one, didn’t know exactly how it worked, but the counter came instantly.

Deflection.

A burst of omni-directional deflection-aspected sword essence sent the blade bits flying in all directions, then I was moving, leaping as he thrust the top left sword into the ground.

My sword came down in a diagonal slash, straight for the ashur-ape’s chest.

Got you.

He opened his mouth and inhaled. Fire burned within his jaws, forming a blistering sphere in the air. My eyes widened in surprise, but I struck, even as flames roared out of his jaws.

Shattering Sheath.

My sword came down in a single clean cut.

I landed behind the ape, falling to a knee as my bad leg hit the ground, and slammed my sword into the floor to arrest my fall.

Smoke wafted off my tunic, but that was all that had reached me.

“You fought well, bearer of six swords.” I winced and pushed myself to my feet.

The ashur-ape was already vanishing behind me.

I’d only connected once, but with the Shattering Sheath, I’d struck it a thousand times.

I finally found a use for that technique, and I’d won the fight.

It was a shame, though.

I sighed out loud as his swords began to vanish. I reached for the closest one, but it discorporated between my fingers.

I never did figure out what his bottom left sword did.

(To be Continued in Edge of the Dream!)

About the Author

Andrew Rowe was once a professional game designer for awesome companies like Blizzard Entertainment, Cryptic Studios, and Obsidian Entertainment. Nowadays, he’s writing full time.

When he’s not crunching numbers for game balance, he runs live-action role-playing games set in the same universe as his books. In addition, he writes for pen and paper role-playing games.

Aside from game design and writing, Andrew watches a lot of anime, reads a metric ton of fantasy books, and plays every role-playing game he can get his hands on.

Interested in following Andrew’s books releases, or discussing them with other people? You can find more info, update, and discussions in a few places online:

Andrew’s Blog: https://andrewkrowe.wordpress.com/

Mailing List: https://andrewkrowe.wordpress.com/mailing-list/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Arcane-Ascension-378362729189084/

Reddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/ClimbersCourt/

Other Books by Andrew Rowe

The War of Broken Mirrors Series

Forging Divinity

Stealing Sorcery

Defying Destiny

Arcane Ascension Series

Sufficiently Advanced Magic

On the Shoulders of Titans

The Torch that Ignites the Stars

The Silence of Unworthy Gods

Weapons and Wielders Series

Six Sacred Swords

Diamantine

Soulbrand

The Lost Edge Series

Edge of the Woods

Other Books

How to Defeat a Demon King in Ten Easy Steps

Death Game Quality Assurance

Arcane Ascension Universe Books by Other Authors

Crystal Awakening by Kayleigh Nicol

If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review! Thank you again for reading.