by Andrew Rowe
“Oh, to make the spell stronger? Yeah, that actually seems pretty doable. But would just throwing extra mana into a summoning spell actually do anything useful?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Summoned monsters are really good at shaping mana for their own uses. Remember that karvensi I summoned?”
“Sure.” I frowned. “Now that you mention it, he was casting a lot of spells.”
“And spells I couldn’t provide the mana for. I don’t have lightning or fire mana. Summoning spells use transference, air, and gray mana. He got the mana that was left over from the spell after I finished summoning him - and he reshaped it himself. If I’d given him more mana to work with, he could have done more with it.”
Huh. “That reminds me — wasn’t he using some of the same spells you were, but without incantations?”
“Yeah. Using incantations for broad-area spells seem to primarily be a human limitation — monsters shape their magic naturally, so they generally don’t need them.”
That was interesting. Could I figure out a way to set things up for a human to distribute mana across a broad area without incantations like a monster could?
One more research project for the long list.
“Okay, yeah. I think we can make a spell-enhancement item work. In fact, I could probably make something similar for Patrick if I can afford it.”
She frowned when I said Patrick’s name. That was not a good sign.
I continued, “Anyway, do you want me to spend everything you gave me on the one item, or try to save some for additional items?”
“Gimme the strongest thing you can make. We can always make more items later. I’d rather have one really good item that isn’t going to be replaced when you get stronger in a few months.”
I agreed with her logic. “Okay. Do you want something that’s self-recharging or something we have to manually refill?”
She raised an eyebrow. “What’s the advantage of the latter?”
“Half as many runes for me to make, so I don’t have to buy as many crystals. That means I can buy a bigger crystal to give it a larger mana capacity.”
“Got it. Go with that, then.”
“You sure? That means you’ll probably only be able to use it once per test. If even that — recharging something we make with a big crystal is going to be hard.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’d rather have a strong emergency measure.”
“Okay. What mana type do you want?”
That one took her a minute of consideration. “Gray. As much as I want to say ice, it’d be too hard to recharge, and less generally useful.”
I didn’t quite understand her hesitation. “Wouldn’t gray work for anything?”
She shook her head. “For any summoning spell, yes. But not for my normal offensive ice spells, and I might want to hit something with a really powerful ice storm, rather than call on a summoned monster. I can convert gray mana, of course, but that’s inefficient.”
“Oh, that makes sense. Maybe if this ends up working we can make you an ice one eventually.”
“I’d like that, but let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. I’m not that rich.”
I grinned. “Not yet. Okay, let’s settle on this one as my next project, but I wanted to discuss some of these other ideas for the future...”
The rest of the conversation was much more pleasant, but I knew that I had a lot more work to do before she was going to truly trust me again.
Chapter XVI — Testing Phase Two
Professor Meltlake floated, rather than stood, in front of the class when I arrived and took my seat. She was only about four feet above the ground, but it was both noticeable and impressive. She sat on the air like a cushion with no clear gestures or words to maintain the spell.
Given what I recalled of Meltlake’s previous lectures, I suspected the effortless manipulation of mana was a calculated move on her part. While Teft preferred direct confrontations for shock and awe, Meltlake liked to draw us in with little casual uses of magic that brought out our curiosity.
At an otherwise unremarkable moment — one I suspected to be the precise moment an unseen clock ticked to the starting time of our class — Meltlake lifted her head and glanced around the classroom, her lips twisting almost imperceptibly downward.
That muted displeasure was an uncomfortable pressure for me, even though I suspected it was directed at those students who were still sitting down. Or worse, those few that remained absent.
“Students, attention.”
We turned our gaze toward her, conversations silencing in an instant. If we had a military salute, we probably would have given one, but we weren’t quite at that point in our training yet.
If I handled things right, I’d never get to that point. I had no intention of joining the military. Not for traditional service, at least. I couldn’t afford to. I knew it was extremely unlikely that I’d make it to the top of the tower before graduating. Most stories of successful climbers indicated that they took decades to reach the top — and success stories were rare.
I needed to make sure I scored high enough to qualify for becoming a military-sponsored climber when I graduated.
Even if I did rescue Tristan before graduating, I still had no interest in joining the military. Military service had destroyed my great grandfather’s mind. The military had taught my father to “discipline” me into success. I didn’t want to end up like either of them.
“Today, we’ll be discussing Valia’s relationships with the most prominent kingdoms on Kaldyn. We’ll discuss the smaller kingdoms, as well as kingdoms on other continents, in future classes. We’ll begin with our geographic neighbors. Dalenos in the north and Edria to our south.”
The mention of Dalenos made me think about Jin. There were a considerable number of foreign students here, but I’d only seen a handful of others from Dalenos. They were notoriously insular. Not necessarily xenophobic — they didn’t seem to have any problems trading with Valia or with our own students visiting them — but my impression was that they were very patriotic and that most of their citizens weren’t very interested in learning about our culture.
Professor Meltlake turned one hand upward and opened her palm. “If this is Valia...,” a white cloud, roughly triangular in shape, but with deep gaps that presumably represented bodies of water, “Then this would be Dalenos.”
She opened her right hand, and a blue cloud manifested. This one was more rectangular in shape. It formed along the north western angle of Valia’s triangular shape, stretching both further west and north. The rectangle had a large chunk missing from the center, and another on the southern side. The first one represented a big lake with a name I could never remember, and the second presumably signified the Unclaimed Lands — territory infested with vicious beasts that had never been fully settled.
“Dalenos is unique among our nations in that they are directly led and guided by one of the visages — Katashi, the Visage of Justice. While we use the term “kingdom” for simplicity, they are not a kingdom in the traditional sense; their monarch is largely a figurehead. Katashi, and by extension his priesthood, control all legal and military forces in the region. Thus, it is more accurately referred to as a theocracy.”
A student I didn’t recognize stood up to indicate she had a question. Professor Meltlake turned her head. “Yes, Constance?”
“Aren’t we all theocracies, then? I mean, don’t we all follow the same Goddess?” Constance asked, sitting back down.
Professor Meltlake shook her head. “While all nations on the continent do revere Selys, praise be to her name, most of our governments draft their own laws without direct guidance from the visages. Each of the largest nations — often colloquially referred to as the ‘Four Powers’ — do have some form of guidance from a patron visage. This generally comes in the form of occasional advice to the rulers or council. In Dalenos, Katashi and his priesthood directly control the rule of law. If there is a significant dispute, the priesthood can esca
late the question to Katashi directly. He spends much of his time living directly among the people of the city in his grand cathedral.”
Another student stood up. “Does that mean that Dalenos is more important than the rest of our nations?”
Meltlake actually laughed. That was a rarity. “They’d certainly like us to think so. Historically, however, it’s more complicated than that. Five nations, including our own, used to have a visage that lived among them and helped govern in some capacity. While Dalenos would claim that their visage’s presence means that they’re the only ones who still deserve the honor, the rest of our governments tend to think we’ve just outgrown needing divine oversight. As for who is right?”
The professor shrugged. “That’s a question for the visages, not for me.”
The student sat down, a thoughtful expression on his face.
All I could think about was how glad I was that we didn’t have a visage watching over us all the time. One encounter with Katashi had been more than enough for my tastes.
Meltlake glanced around, presumably checking for more questions, and then continued after a few seconds. “Dalenos is the home to the Tortoise Spire. Of the six Shifting Spires, the Tortoise Spire is the least explored; mostly due to how difficult it is to earn the right to explore the tower for non-citizens. While all other nations allow travelers to explore their Shifting Spires for a modest fee, visiting the Tortoise Spire requires an application and interview process. This process can often take months, or even years. Thus any visit to the Tortoise Spire must be planned far in advance.”
“Next,” she waved her right hand, manifesting an expansive red cloud that stretched beneath both of the two existing ones, and even further out to the west, “Edria. Or, more formally, ‘West Edria’ and ‘East Edria’, though the distinction is falling apart these days. Edria is the single most powerful military force on the continent.”
She squeezed her hand, illuminating a flickering boundary between the two portions of Edria. “During the Six Years War, Edria invaded our bordering kingdom of Kelridge. At the time, Kelridge was a part of Dalenos. Dalenos’ queen was a Keldridge native. She remained in the nation during the invasion, refusing to surrender even when Edrian troops had surrounded her fortress. Along with her loyal retainers, she endured a full year of grueling siege, hoping that her allies from Valia or Caelford would push back the Edrian troops — but we never succeeded in dislodging them. They called her the Unbroken Queen.”
Meltlake shook her head. “Perhaps she would have withstood the siege even longer, but her people were starving. She was assassinated — and most believe it was by one of her own people. With her fall, Kelridge officially surrendered and became East Edria. Those who remained loyal to the Unbroken Queen maintained the house’s surname, Dalen, as a way of honoring her. Of course, the royal family of Dalenos still uses the same name as well.”
The professor pointed her hand again, causing the western border of Valia to glow. “With Kelridge conquered, Edria pushed further east, all the way to the Valian border, before finally ceasing their assault.”
I knew that story all too well — my great grandfather, Alaric Cadence, had defeated one of the invading army’s officers in single combat to end the war. I was sure that duel was more of a formality — they would not have ever agreed to the duel if they hadn’t wanted an excuse to stop the military push.
Edrian forces had been encamped in the bordering mountain range for months without being able to successfully push into Valian territory, and with winter rapidly approaching, the duel was a way to end the conflict in a way that saved face for both sides.
While some took this as a sign of Valia’s impregnable defenses, most of my family believed that Edria was simply biding their time for a better opportunity to strike.
After all, they’d already obtained what they truly wanted in the push.
The professor explained that next. “During the conquest of Kelridge, Edria became the first nation to control two of the Shifting Spires. Edria was built near the Hydra Spire, home of Orochi the God Hydra, and historically that had been their primary source of attunements. Kelridge was the home to the Phoenix Spire, the seat of Suzaku, the God Phoenix.”
Another student stood up — Lei, one of the few students I knew was from East Edria. “Professor, not to be disrespectful, but we do not refer to Suzaku as a phoenix — nor would we call Orochi a hydra, or even a god among them. They are distinct creatures.”
Meltlake nodded. “Ah, I was wondering if someone would bring that up. In Valia, Miss Zhang, we refer to each of the god beasts by their closest analogue among common monsters. It is merely a categorization tool, useful for our citizens to easily visualize and remember each of the towers. I understand that in East Edria, Suzaku remains a deep part of your culture, and that conflating it with an ordinary type of monster may come across as disrespectful. Please understand that no disrespect is intended — and we do teach more detailed information about each of the god beasts and their histories during the second year.”
Lei frowned, but she simply said, “Thank you, professor,” and sat back down. It was obvious she wanted to say more, but I think she was smart to leave the issue alone — I sincerely doubted that any further argument would accomplish anything.
I probably would have been more sympathetic if I thought of the god beasts as anything other than horrifying monsters of city-shattering power. I knew that East Edria thought of Suzaku as a positive force, more like how we treated the visages, but I’d never been raised to think of the god beasts that way. It was difficult to imagine a powerful monster being anything other than terrifying.
“Now,” Professor Meltlake continued, “Some of you have asked me why we still allow people from Edria to visit, in spite of the movements of Edrian troops along the border. The answer is that we are — most definitively — not at war. Troop movements are commonplace for both of our countries, and we have been at peace with Edria for decades. While we must remain vigilant, Edria has shown no sign of overt aggression.”
I heard some murmurs of disagreement among the class, but Meltlake didn’t stop talking. “I know that many of you are concerned, but our soldiers are well-trained, and we are quite prepared for any potential attack. Perhaps more importantly, Edria is still allowing our own citizens to visit them freely, including making the treks to both of their towers. Most military experts believe that Edria would cut off our access to their towers and expel our citizens before attempting any military action — initiating a war while we had capable attuned deep inside Edrian territory would be an extremely dangerous move.”
A few nods of agreement at that, but I wasn’t one of them. How many attuned could we possibly have visiting their towers? A couple dozen, maybe, if that? I was confident that twenty or thirty attuned loose in a warring nation would be a frustration, but I sincerely doubted they would be a sufficient threat to deter a war.
Professor Meltlake was probably just trying to keep the class from worrying — and I understood that, but I didn’t necessarily agree with it. Then again, I had a tendency to overthink things. Not everyone appreciated obsessively theorizing the same way that I did.
“Now,” Professor Meltlake twisted her left hand, manifesting a silvery cloud on the far western side of her map. “Caelford is the last of the Four Powers. They are an industrious nation, famous for their mechanical engineering and scientific experimentation. We consider them our closest allies, both due to their assistance in the Six Years War and our many centuries of trade prior to that.”
She closed her hands, causing both Valia and Caelford’s clouds to glow a brighter. “Perhaps even more importantly, they border Edria on the western side of the continent, where we border Edria on the east — if either of our nations should fall, the other would be at substantial risk of being attacked next.”
Grinning, Professor Meltlake continued. “Caelford is the home to the Tiger Spire, where Byakko, the God Tiger, resides. It’s also the home of Ferr
as, the most active of the visages aside from Katashi. Ferras doesn’t run the government — instead, she works directly with her citizens on science and engineering projects that interest her. She’s also notoriously informal — she travels without a retinue and dresses in ordinary clothes, which has led to a few rather embarrassing mistakes over the years.”
I pictured someone trying to kick a drunken visage out of a bar — that sounded hilarious.
That’s one visage I might actually be interested in meeting. Maybe I could get her to teach me more about how attunements actually work.
Professor Meltlake lifted a finger and drew a line across the map from Caelford to Valia. “While we’ve always had robust trade with Caelford, and the cross continental railroad that has made shipping goods far easier than at any previous point in history. For this reason, the railroad is extremely well-maintained — and well-defended. We have military bases at several locations along the rail, including two small bases in the Unclaimed Lands. It is very possible that after your attunement training is completed, you could be assigned to protect one of these key locations.”
“Now, that’s it for the Four Powers...”
Another student stood up. Professor Meltlake raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
The student folded his arms. “You mentioned five of the Shifting Spires — aren’t there six?”
Professor Meltlake nodded. “Yes. The location of the Spider Spire, however, is a closely-guarded secret. Most of your fellow students will guess that it lies in the Unclaimed Lands, but I’ll say this — that’s not the case. There is a tower in the Unclaimed Lands, but not one of the six.”
Now that got my attention. I knew that the Spider Spire’s location was a secret. I’d even spent some time unsuccessfully trying to figure it when I was younger. I was curious about that, but I was even more interested in this other tower.
Could there be a seventh spire? If so, would it be possible to get different attunements there?