The Torch that Ignites the Stars (Arcane Ascension Book 3)

by Andrew Rowe

  An image flashed through my mind: stacks of paper sorted into neat piles on a table sitting in perfect darkness.

  I already had Accelerated Computation active, so parsing through the pages would be easy. And, given that the organization structure was my own mind, I found what I needed immediately.

  I lifted a page in my mind, concentrated on a sub-glyph, and made a single pen-stroke in my mind.

  I heard a crack.

  My eyes opened.

  Then, as Keras burst free from the pit, shredding furniture with wild abandon, I sent a pulse of mana into my right hand.

  And with a flare of power, my spell was complete:

  My aura burned bright orange.

  I’d overwritten the safety setting on my mana.

  Keras glowered at me as he advanced. “I’m not a fan of pits.”

  “You’ll be even less fond of what happens next.” I re-formed the mana blade around my left hand, but it was broader now. Brighter.

  Sunstone-level boosted my ability to shape my shroud, and I intended to make use of that immediately. I rushed forward, swinging my mana blade before I truly came into reach.

  Extend.

  The blade lengthened mid-swing, forcing Keras to step backward toward the battered furniture pile. While he avoided stumbling over the broken pieces, I swung Selys-Lyann, sending a shockwave of ice at his feet.

  Keras jumped. I’d known he would.

  I swung both blades together while he was in mid-air, producing an x-shaped wave of ripping power. He swung downward with Dawnbringer, intending to cleave through the shockwave.

  Impact in 0.1 seconds.

  With a flick of a finger, I split the shockwave apart the instant before his sword reached it.

  The two shockwaves were too close for him to adjust his swing when they split apart. Instead, I saw something flicker across his face, but it wasn’t doubt.

  He’d activated a technique.

  His aura flashed silver. My attacks vanished into nothing.

  When he landed, the stone beneath him shattered, leaving wide cracks across the entire room.

  His aura returned to normal in the next instant. Even if his destruction aura wasn’t real, I knew he wouldn’t be willing to overuse it. I swung both blades again, but I knew he’d expect the same trick.

  He slammed the ground to raise a wall of stone to block, and I used that moment to prepare my next move.

  My right hand trembled on the hilt of my sword.

  Deactivating the safety measures on my attunement hadn’t come without cost. I was rapidly burning through my internal mana reserves by using Sunstone-level powers without actually having access to a Sunstone-level mana pool, and my body wouldn’t be able to handle it much longer.

  Worse, I still had both Haste and Accelerated Computation active. I was used to using Haste for significant periods of time now, but Accelerated Computation wasn’t meant for extended use.

  I need to end this fast.

  If I wanted to win, I’d have to end things within the next few moves. And if I knew Keras, he wasn’t going to make that easy.

  I exhaled a breath, then concentrated, dispersing my mana blade. Instead, I began to form mana threads around my free hand.

  All or nothing.

  Transference began to flow into my right hand.

  One.

  Two.

  Keras burst through the stone wall before I had a chance to finish my technique, blurring toward me. With my accelerated thoughts, I traced the exact angle and speed of his strike, then gently shifted Selys-Lyann upward to make contact with Dawnbringer.

  Then, in the instant of contact, I released the transference mana stored in my hand into my sword.

  There was a cacophonous blast as transference mana met with Dawnbringer’s aura, blasting Keras’ arm out of position.

  In that instant, I moved.

  Jump.

  I shot forward, my hand brushing across the hilt of the Sae’kes as I shot past Keras, then I snapped my fingers.

  Mana surged through threads toward the blue crystal in the Sae’kes pommel. My heart slammed in my chest.

  There was flash of silver.

  Then, slowly, the severed remains of my mana threads drifted to the ground. The pulse of mana I’d sent through them dispersed harmlessly into the open air.

  He’d cut them so quickly I hadn’t even seen his hand move.

  And in the heartbeat that followed, I knew that I had failed.

  Accelerated Computation was, at times, extraordinarily useful. Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to even attempt my last technique, nor the bit of offensive teleportation with the circlet.

  It was, however, extremely disturbing when my racing mind told me that there were two swords approaching me at a speed and trajectory that I could not possibly hope to properly counter.

  Dawnbringer smashed into Selys-Lyann hard enough that my fingers instantly went numb, losing their grip. The sword tumbled to the ground, and with it, my best chance to fight.

  As my mind raced, I activated my ring, blasting myself backward. Keras followed a heartbeat later, his second sword arcing upward toward my chin.

  My arm shot downward. Not to grab his sword — that would have been suicidal. I didn’t have the finesse or strength to grab a sword in between two fingers.

  I did, however, have something else. Not a weapon, but one last hope.

  When Keras’ sword came up for that finishing blow, I tore the Jaden Box out of my bag. “Stop!”

  Keras shifted mid-swing, his sword’s blade flashing past the side of my head, a fraction of an inch from my ear. Then he jumped back a step, flicking his blade back upward in an instant. He leveled the tip toward my chest, his grip tightening around the hilt of his weapon. “You have Wrynn’s box.”

  “I do. And if you don’t step back and lower your sword, I’ll detonate it.”

  Keras’ eyes narrowed. “You’re bluffing.”

  “Maybe. You saw what I just tried to do with your sword, didn’t you? Mana threads. I can detonate items. You of all people should understand—”

  Keras stepped back, lowering his sword. “Fine.” He exhaled a sharp breath. “What do you want?”

  “Concede the match. Agree that you won’t attack me or the crystal. Then, I’ll tell you how I have the box.”

  Keras stared at me for a long moment. My hand trembled. My vision swam.

  And then, after what felt like an age, he spoke again. Quietly, this time, as if a bit of him was breaking when he uttered the word.

  “Fine.”

  And after a pause, with a sadder tone, he said, “I concede.”

  I exhaled hard.

  Release Haste. Release Accelerated Computation.

  My vision went blank for a moment as my mind snapped out of the effects of the latter spell. In the next moment, the floor was rushing up toward me, but my motion was forcefully arrested before I hit the ground.

  When I managed to gather my thoughts, I realized that Keras had caught me. He helped me into a sitting position, then sat in front of me. His sword was sheathed again. “Looks like you pushed yourself too hard.”

  “No kidding. Give me a second.” I closed my eyes again.

  Analyze Attunement Composition.

  The papers appeared in my mind again, more slowly this time. Parsing through the sub-glyphs was harder without Accelerated Computation, but it was still easy enough to find the one location that I’d made a change: it was effectively highlighted in my mind.

  I changed it back.

  I shivered as my aura shifted, my body settling back into Carnelian-level. My eyes fluttered back open.

  “What was that about?” Keras asked.

  “I temporarily gave myself a higher attunement level to fight you. I just changed it back to avoid causing myself too much permanent damage.”

  Keras laughed. “Nice trick. Wish I could do something like that.”

  “Don’t you have those body techniques?”
/>   He shrugged. “Those have pretty serious downsides…but I can see what you’re getting at.”

  I frowned. “…Why didn’t you use them against me?”

  He blinked, as if surprised by the question. “Did you think that I needed them?”

  “…Oh.”

  Keras laughed. “Relax, kid. You did great. How old are you, anyway?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “Seventeen…” Keras shook his head, briefly looking wistful. “Gods, I wasn’t anywhere close to your level at seventeen. You’re going to be one of the best when you’re older.”

  “…You think so?”

  “Take it from an expert. You’ve got real skill there. Just…maybe don’t do too many things to permanently damage yourself, yeah? That can get you into trouble.”

  I sighed. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

  He reached into a bag at his side, producing what appeared to be an ordinary flask of water. He took a drink, then offered the flask to me. “It’s real, I think.”

  I grinned. “I’ve got my own water. In the box, actually.”

  “In the box.” Keras gave the Jaden Box a wistful look, then turned toward me. “This a good time to explain?”

  “…Sure.” I took a breath. “How much time do you have?”

  ***

  I sat with the copy of Keras for close to a half hour, telling him stories. How I’d gotten the Jaden Box, how I’d met him, how he’d told me about bits of his own adventures…

  And that he still, apparently, was looking for Wrynn.

  “How long has it been, do you think? Between when this,” he pointed at himself, “was created, and the present?”

  “Somewhere around a decade, probably. Do you know what year it was on the Valian calendar when you showed up here?”

  He shook his head. “Haven’t been to Valia yet or learned their calendar system. 746 on the Edrian Calendar, though?”

  “Don’t know that one, sorry.” I shook my head. “I’m…not a very good student.”

  “On the contrary, I saw your sword forms. You used several of my techniques — blade shaping, splitting the crescents, even one of my stances. I’d say you’re an excellent student.”

  “…Thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “So. You think the original Keras is going to use that box to summon Wrynn?” Keras asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah. And if I finish this whole thing with Constantine, Len might be able to teach me how to recharge the box faster. So, in a sense, succeeding here might help you…or, other you, see Wrynn sooner.”

  “I suppose that makes things a little more worth it, then.” Keras turned his head upward. “I want you to ask that crystal that question for me.”

  I nodded. “I think I know the one.”

  Why did Keras consent to have a copy of him made?

  [Because I offered to let him fight himself whenever he wants.]

  I burst out laughing.

  Keras gave me a quizzical look. “Is that bad?”

  “No…it’s just…very you.”

  I paused, took a breath, and then explained.

  Keras closed his eyes, then gave a long-suffering sigh. “…I really do have a one-track mind, don’t I?”

  “It could be worse.” I told him.

  “I suppose it could.” He nodded, more to himself then to me. “Hey, kid. What’s your name?”

  “It’s Corin. Corin Cadence.”

  Keras nodded slowly. “Corin Cadence. That’s a good name. One last thing. What happens to me after I walk out that door?”

  “Your memories will be wiped, but you won’t be destroyed.”

  “Memories wiped, eh?” He shook his head. “That’s a shame.”

  I frowned. “Why is that?”

  “Because,” Keras turned and walked toward the shrine’s entrance, reaching over his head to give me a casual wave, “You might be my student, but you still taught me a thing or two.”

  Chapter XXII – Crystal Core

  After Keras walked out the door, I went back to the crystal chamber. For a moment, the crystal seemed to glow a bit brighter.

  [Congratulations. You have concluded your test.]

  I sat down immediately. My head was still swimming from overusing Accelerated Computation and abusing my attunement modifications. If I had my mana watch, I might have checked my mana and learned that I’d dropped into negative values. It was probably better that I didn’t have the ability to do so. “Thanks,” I managed to reply after a moment. Then, after a pause, “…There’s something that doesn’t make sense to me about all this.”

  [Please continue.]

  “If this is all about learning and improvement, why do you wipe the memories of the copies after each time they’re used?”

  [Copies that become aware of their nature tend to become…distressed, as the copy of Keras did. There are exceptions, but typically, such copies are less useful as challenges.]

  “Wouldn’t a copy that knows from the outset of entering be able to just…I don’t know, play along?”

  [In some cases, yes, but they would be more likely to go easy on the true challenger in those cases. Consider your last challenge: a Keras that was aware that he was simply there to test you from the outset would have posed a minimal threat. While this may have still provided you with a teaching experience, his doubts and anger about his nature significantly increased his threat level. This was what allowed the test to be a sufficient challenge.]

  I couldn’t argue with the increased challenge — I was sure a copy of Keras that knew he’d consented to the process and why would have treated the whole experience more like a sparring match. “But doesn’t wiping their memories sort of undermine your entire objective?”

  [I understand your line of reasoning. There is a factor you are unaware of: the memory alterations to these constructs are temporary. After a significant period of time, their memories will be returned in bulk, and they will be released.]

  I blinked. “Released? Meaning…into the outside world?”

  [Yes.]

  “So…there are just going to be copies of all these people running around eventually?”

  [Yes.]

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Len seemed nice enough, but… “Does that mean there’s going to be a copy of me in the same situation?”

  [Only if you consent to the process.]

  I nodded. “I…I’ll have to think about that. In the meantime, I have another question.”

  [Go ahead.]

  “How much mana do we have available?”

  [You spent twenty-five on the pit trap and three hundred on the pile of couches. You have nine thousand and twenty-five mana remaining.]

  Just barely over nine-thousand. That was good, but not enough. “No reward for finishing the last round?”

  [Normally, the mana is only intended to be used for the test itself, and thus, the last round does not have a reward. It is a concession to allow you to use the unspent mana at all.]

  I nodded, considering. “Okay, let’s see what I can manage.”

  I spent the next several minutes transferring mana into the crystal. My batteries didn’t have much in them — it hadn’t been long enough for them to recharge much — and my shield sigil had basically nothing, since Keras had punched through the shield. My circlet, which I retrieved from the other room, was similarly almost dry.

  Draining those conventional mana sources got me to 9500. It was a bit of progress, but still nowhere near enough. “How long are you willing to let me wait and recharge here?”

  [I will permit you one hour to recharge items and find means to obtain the mana you need.]

  I did some mental math. The batteries, sigil, and circlet would get me close after an hour…but not close enough.

  My armor was the wrong mana type, so it wouldn’t be compatible. That left me with a few unusual options.

  The ring of jumping used transference mana, but it was a foreign item, and I wasn’t confi
dent I could take mana out of it without damaging it. The Jaden Box had the same problem.

  The sword I’d gotten from Jerome was still in my box, but it didn’t have the right mana types. In fact, it seemed to use void, which may have been actively harmful to the crystal. That one was out of the question.

  I did have one more source of mana that the crystal could theoretically use, but it was dangerous enough that I hadn’t wanted to risk it. Dangerous and, well, possibly heretical.

  Selys-Lyann had a rune for spirit magic. A powerful enough one that, if I was willing to drain it, I could easily exceed the level of mana I needed.

  It was, however, a more complex rune than I was used to working with. All of Selys-Lyann’s runes were compound: they contained capacity, recharge, and function components within a single apparent rune. I had a much better idea of how that worked now that I’d studied attunements, but I still hadn’t done much work with compound runes.

  I didn’t know if draining mana out of a compound rune would ruin the whole thing. Obviously, it had to be able to use mana for its functions without destroying itself, so there was a way for it to expend mana safely…but simply applying transference to that compound rune to push mana out wasn’t the same thing.

  I debated, then realized I had a potential solution.

  Analyze Attunement Composition was primarily used for looking at how attunements worked, but theoretically, a compound rune was similar in nature. Maybe — just maybe — the same spell would let me look at the interior composition of a compound rune. And maybe, if I was lucky enough, it would have a similar sub-glyph structure for me to comprehend it. If it did, I could try to figure out a safe mana transference method.

  If it didn’t work…well, it was more likely to just fail outright than break my brain. The chance of the latter was admittedly absolutely terrifying, but I was trying very hard to push my fears of that sort of thing aside and make the right decisions for any given moment.

  I told the crystal my plan, which seemed wise, given that the crystal was also potentially at risk if things went wrong.

  [I do not believe that will work the way you anticipate, but I also do not believe it will be harmful.]

  That was good enough for me.

  I put my hand on the spirit rune of Selys-Lyann, made sure I was seated with my back against the wall, and cast a spell.