by Dakota Krout
What followed this short conversation was sixteen hours a day of information spewing from Rupert’s lips… for a week straight. There was so much data stored away in the man's head, specifically so much information that Taylor considered ninety-nine percent useless, that he physically injured himself by trying to verbalize it all in a single week. When he declared with his now-raspy voice that he had told her everything he knew, and had walked her through all of the proper motions that were necessary for courtly etiquette, Master Don suddenly appeared in the room with them.
“Excellent. Test her.”
Rupert was incredibly startled, yet so drained from the week of work that he could not muster up a reaction. He simply started calling out what the situation was, and the person she was addressing. “Viscount Frankfurt Turtle, in the palace, at a social gathering of nobility including the Royals. You are not yet the Archmage.”
“It is lovely to see you, Lord Turtle.” Taylor swept into an elegant curtsy, only lowering herself until her knees were just barely bent. Her eyes remained level with Rupert, then she stood quietly.
“Perfect,” Rupert sighed at the response, starting to relax. She had been as good as her word. She remembered! “You are the Archmage, same situation.”
“Evening, Frank.” Taylor barely nodded in his direction, making Rupert sputter with indignation.
“You can’t just-!”
“Rupert, if I am the Archmage, I can do whatever I abyss-well please,” Taylor snapped at him. She let that sink in, noting the faint grin playing on Master Don’s lips. Then she gave Rupert what he wanted to see. “However, what propriety would call for, is this:”
“Lord Turtle. A pleasure.” Taylor bobbed her head respectfully.
“…Correct.” Rupert was fully disheartened over the fact that Taylor was going to follow in Don's footsteps so exactly. They went over dozens more situations, and each and every time, she was able to give the perfect response. They held a mock dinner, breakfast, brunch, high tea, and multiple other scenarios. They danced, they held conversations, they dueled.
At the end of it all, there was nothing further that Rupert could recall to test her on. “She is… perfect. If I had five students like her, I could hire them all to do my job and retire. I have nothing left to teach her.”
Rupert's words, though hesitant, showed exactly how impressed he was by her learning capabilities. “Still, to get her used to the treacherous life in the courts, I think you should-”
“Don't tell me what to do.” Master Don grabbed Rupert, slapped a sack of gold into his hands, and shoved a spell into his head. Rupert's gaze became blurry and far away. The Archmage shoved the instructor through a portal that came into existence for a brief moment, then turned to Taylor. “Excellent! Now that you are a proper inheritor of my position socially, it is time to see if your self-made training program will grant you the power that my training program was supposed to do… if it had been followed.”
Taylor couldn't help but swallow nervously as Master Don grabbed her arm and they teleported away.
Chapter Thirty
“Oh, Taylor… I waited for fifty years. Fifty years of trying to find someone to take this Archmage position without killing me off for it. To think I once desired this position, and held it for centuries while slapping down competition.” Don had an iron grip on Taylor's shoulder and was frog marching her along through a thick morning fog. “Now I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, and you… you just decide to do your own thing.”
He chuckled, but there was no happiness in the sound; only frustration tinged with fury. “One of the only things that I can’t order you to do is spend your Potentia as I see fit… a failing of that Sigil on your brow. Power, Taylor. Only power, and being able to showcase that power, will convince the Royal court that you are fit for the position. Brutality is the only way to fend off everyone who wants the position. Recall how I have told you that there are only two ways that this title gets passed on? An apprentice takes it, or someone kills the Archmage in a direct, sanctioned duel. Let’s be realistic, no one is taking my life.”
“But by ignoring my orders, you are threatening my freedom, Taylor. My freedom. Since you seem to be fine with this, since you seem to want to do things your own way, we will compromise. You get to do things your way, but where I tell you to do it. You have roughly three years remaining before you can leave and return to the Kingdom. Three years before I need to introduce you as my Apprentice… if you are still alive. A question for you, Taylor: will you follow my training from now on, and become what I want you to become? Speak Truth.”
Taylor opened her mouth and tried to say that she would do what he wanted. However, the words wouldn’t come. In her heart, she knew that she didn’t want to be anything like this calculating, corrupted Archmage. “I’ll become the Archmage.”
“Heh, ha! Not good enough. Not even close. Well, let’s make a bet. Prove to me that I made the right choice, and you did as well. If you win, we’ll do things your way, and I’ll never raise a hand against your past or future disrespect. If not… well. Let’s just see if you survive. Resist Gravity, medium.”
“What?” Taylor recognized that a spell had just been cast, but she had no chance to think on it further before Master Don threw her off a cliff. She hadn't even realized that they were on a cliff thanks to the fog surrounding them. Taylor hurtled through the air as if she had been the ammo for a trebuchet. She was screaming, but was falling much slower than she had initially expected. This also meant that her travel was a large, gentle parabolic arc. Thanks to that, she was still falling half an hour later.
Eventually, she was far angrier than afraid. “Celestial Feces, just let me get back on the ground already!”
Between the wind, the power behind the throw, the fog, and the much lower gravity that she was being subjected to, there was no way to tell how far she had traveled. By the time Taylor actually got to the wooden flooring that covered this portion of the World of Names, she was ready to fight something out of sheer frustration.
That was the right mentality to have, because as soon as Taylor touched the ground, she was under attack. She landed on the wooden surface and found that it had odd protrusions. Though the fog was still present, it was starting to clear, which allowed Taylor to see that the bumps on the floor were now staring at her. “He threw me right into a spawn point? That son of-”
Taylor jumped and rolled as a half-dozen stone spikes drilled through the wooden floor and into the spot where she had just been standing. Her gaze traveled over the bumps that were looking at her, and noticed that they resembled stone-clad hedgehogs. “Spikers. Great. At least you’re Stone Spikers, and not something annoying like Wind Spikers.”
With a wave, fire condensed into an orb on her hand and almost lazily flew toward the largest cluster of Spikers. The fiery explosion created a strange reverse concussive blast from the sheer amount of air it ignited at once; it gave her hope that when she ranked this spell up a few times, it would transform into a type of implosion magic. That sort of thing happened very infrequently, and it was hard to tell if you had gained one, but variant spells did exist and usually had strange effects like this when they were low-ranked.
Damage: 115 x12 (Fire damage). Exp gained: 82 (T2 Stone Spikers x12 destroyed.)
“Why is it that the same monster has different amounts of Potentia? I understand that they are growing at different rates, but it just seems so… messy.” Taylor cracked her neck, her hair flowing back into a perfect position. She had to admit that Cleanse had been worth getting so many years before, but she forced her mind away from that memory. “Shatter Shot.”
She stated the words casually, but the icicle that went flying didn’t lose any power because she was being flippant. When it was most of the way to the next group, she squeezed her fist closed and let the shrapnel shred the Spikers.
Damage: 67.5 x8 (Ice damage). Exp gained: 79 (T2 Stone Spikers x8 destroyed.)
The creatures b
led ink as they dissolved into illegible words and stone quills. Taylor scooped a few of the quills up. Even if she didn't have anything to write on, they would work well for marking her surroundings if needed. At that moment, Taylor was more annoyed by the inconvenience of needing to find her way back than she was concerned for her safety and the future. That changed as lightning flashed through the air and she heard two spells clashing.
The ground around her started to shift, and when she looked into the distance, she could see that the wooden ground was shifting, shattering, then lifting into the air and flying toward the commotion. Her face went pale and she started sprinting away from the battle. “Tier eight! Multitarget Area of Effect! That’s just death!”
Creatures like spells, monsters, and constructs were all rated with the same tier system for an easily explainable reason. Just as when humans were able to control or use them, the results were easily quantifiable. At tier eight, the spell would have four effects, and four bonuses. The bonuses always grew in the same way: the spell became ranged with bonus number one, multitarget with bonus number two, then gained an area-of-effect with the third. Finally, when something became tier eight, the fourth bonus made a separate, multitarget area-of-effect. This was the most powerful bonus until tier ten, when the spell shifted into a domain that was created by combining all the other effects and bonuses.
Theoretically, every Ascender wanted to go out and gain spells, abilities, summons, and other enhancements that were already at the highest tier possible; if only so that they didn’t need to invest all their Potentia in raising them higher. In practice, there was a limit to what any one person could handle. If Taylor ran to a fight where two tier eight spells were fighting, there was an extremely high chance that she would just flat-out die. Even if she could nullify magical damage for a few seconds, those wooden spikes that had been fired at her were physical objects. They would pulverize her even if the magic controlling them faded.
After about a mile of running, the echoes of the battle had faded to nothing. She kept going until she could no longer see the direct effects of the battle, but it was impossible to miss the swirling thunderstorm that was moving toward the battle. Taylor watched it move, and very, very quietly started to slink away. “Celestials above, a Domain spell…”
Controlling the weather, by definition, was a tier ten spell. A lightning bolt, tornados, and so forth could all be lower… but no one under the domain level could control the actual weather. “Don, you terrible, terrible person… just where did you send me?”
There was a threatening *cracking* that was coming closer at a high speed, so Taylor rushed toward a book stack and focused on retracting her Presence. In an instant, she was merely a part of the scenery. Her eyes flashed to her characteristics, and she took a deep breath to steady herself.
Senses: 20.05
Physical reaction: 20.8
Mental energy: 19.3
Stealth engage: 100.25%
In order for the mysterious entity to break her stealth, it would require the ability to do so. That meant either Senses at the same height as hers, a Presence stat that could directly break her stealth, or some equivalent spell of the Mind or Body designed for that purpose. With a bonus of over a hundred percent chance to her stealth, Taylor felt more comfortable than she should have.
The cracking advanced and soon revealed itself as the ground breaking apart. The shattering earth slowed, then stopped. A small round creature emerged from the ground, and she almost laughed at herself. It was a simple Digrett, a tier one spell creature that made tunnels or pitfall traps. As she was about to stand and kill it, the ground surrounding it crumbled. The ‘Digrett’ rose higher and higher into the air. It was actually only the nose of the huge beast that clawed its way into the open air. Taylor almost spoke out loud in shock, but somehow kept the words from falling out of her wide-open mouth.
“Tier five Fissure. Don, you despicable son of a-”
Chapter Thirty-One
Taylor had been trapped in the same spot for the last few hours as the Fissure crawled along and snuffled. It was clearly searching for her, as it kept returning to the spot where she had entered stealth. It looked like an abstract cross between a giant lizard and a mole, and she wanted nothing to do with it. The words that made up its body were sharp and full of scribbles, like a twelve-year-old’s drawing of something ‘scary’. Every once in a while, it would screech and charge in a random direction; clearly attempting to make her break stealth and run away.
“Why is it after me?” There was no reason that a spell at this level should be continually hunting for her. If she had come into its territory, it should have searched for her but eventually determined that she had left. Hunting her like this… that was something that only blood, tracking, or curse spells usually did.
The Fissure chuffed, a sound she hadn’t heard before. Then it grunted a few times, and Stone Spikers started pouring out of the tunnel that it had made. Realization hit Taylor hard enough to make her wince. The Fissure must be an evolved form of the spikers, and she had unraveled as many as she could before making her escape. She realized her mistake clearly. “I should have unraveled all of them so that there were no witnesses.”
If she had just run, and not unraveled the spikers just because she was frustrated, they would have stayed in their area and left her alone when she got far enough away. However, the instant that she turned one of them into a goopy mess of ink and stone, she should have made sure they couldn’t seek revenge. How many times had Don told her to do exactly that? He was righ-
“No.” Taylor stopped that traitorous thought before she could finish it and narrowed her eyes. She had chosen her own path, and she was determined to walk it.
There was a reason that she had chosen to do the things she had done. She had abilities that were apparently incredibly rare. She wasn’t just a Mage, she was a Namer. So why would she take the same path as the regular Mages? Taylor stood up and walked away from the area. Anyone looking in her direction would only see a vague shimmer in the air, only hear the paper streamers that replaced grass rustling in the wind. Scent? Removed at all times by Purify. Taylor believed that only by touching her would anything be able to find her location.
However, the Fissure stiffened as she carefully walked away. Its sensitive hairs trembled in time with her footfalls as she stepped on the bare earth and sent the most minute of tremors through the ground. It screeched and charged after her, this time not bluffing. Taylor realized that she was caught, so she sprinted away. The ground around her started to break, walls of rock shot out of the ground, and yawning chasms opened up in an attempt to ensnare her.
“Focus harder!” Taylor hissed at herself. “If I want to survive, I need to be perfect! Not just here, but in everything I do!”
Her footfalls lightened, and she ran faster. Taylor was working so hard to control her body perfectly that she missed the moment when her Physical Reaction characteristic went up by point-two.
Physical Reaction has reached 21!
All Taylor really knew was that she was faster and more capable of avoiding the stone shards that were peeling off the walls and flying at her. She started to pull away, and within ten minutes, she could hear the Fissure bellow in fury at having lost her. There was no slowing down. All she wanted to do was put as much distance between them as possible, and maybe start looking for a defensive spell that could be used more than roughly once per day.
“Where do I even start?” At that moment, the Sigil on her forehead flashed and released a loud:
*Chime*.
There was clearly one thing that she could do, and that was to retaliate against the Fissure. It was still hunting her; she knew that much. Perhaps it was time to let it ‘find’ her? Taylor needed to make sure that it was never a threat again. “No. Wait. I just got away… why am I thinking like this?”
However much she tried to avoid the thought, the knowledge that the spell would be after her spurred her into doing something
that she really hoped she wouldn’t regret. Taylor looked for a book stack and tossed a fireball onto it. There was a huge *fwump* as the air ignited, and Taylor felt the ground shake from the aftershock.
Beyond that, the books on the shelf flew into the air with a mad flapping of pages, creating a plume of smoke and flying books that could be seen for miles around. If this didn’t draw in the spell that was after her, she’d take a bite out of her Grimoire. The next step of her plan was to get into position and prepare her ambush.
This part was deceptively simple. All she needed to do was wait, and not get caught. Then, she’d kill the Fissure and everything it brought with it. Not even realizing that she was doing it, she whispered the words that Master Don had told her every day since they had first arrived in The Library. “Everything here is a step on the path to power. If it doesn't join you, take its Potentia.”
Her body started trembling, not in fear, not from any realization of moral failing, but because the Fissure was moving so fast under the ground that the whole earth felt like it was falling down. She started preparing an attack, holding the spell and wrapping mana around it until it appeared to be cocooned in shimmering purple power. “Here we go.”
The beastly Fissure exploded out of the ground in a shower of stone and dirt, screeching as it saw that the commotion was a basic fire. Taylor finished her spellcasting, and Shatter Shot zipped away from her hand, trailing dense mana like a spiderweb. The icy spell penetrated the Fissure, and Taylor started dumping power into the connection, screaming as weakness gradually overtook her. “Let me read you!”