by Andrew Rowe
Unlikely, yes. But not impossible.
An exceptionally talented Diviner or Enchanter, who had honed their skills throughout the entire semester and already hit Carnelian, might have had a chance.
We didn’t have anyone like that in this particular class.
But I did have an idea. A terribly dangerous idea.
I pressed two fingers of my right hand against the mark on my forehead, and I activated my Arbiter attunement.
I’d been converting the mana in my right hand into mental mana, just like I’d done dozens of times before while enchanting — and now, I was using my Arbiter attunement to transfer that mana straight into my mind.
Researcher had warned me that it was risky to try to recharge or empower my own attunement. It wasn’t built for that, and the idea of damaging my mind was horrifying.
Just not as horrifying as being controlled by someone else.
I felt mana surge from my hand into my mind, and for a moment, the whole world went white.
I felt a pressure build inside my ears, like I was swimming deep underwater, and pain building in my temples—
And then I blinked, and the pressure was gone. The pain subsided a moment later.
And the world was different.
My Enchanter attunement was on, without my willing it to do so. The room was swimming with colors, but they seemed brighter, crisper than usual.
I felt like I could pick out more detail in each and every hue. Professor Conway and Professor Yang both had Citrine auras. I’d known that before, but when I looked at Professor Yang, I could see so much more detail now.
His shroud wasn’t just a nebulous aura now; I could see it flowing out of his skin, and that it was thicker around both his hand and his chest.
Meaning he had a second attunement; probably a lung-mark, since he was spreading mana by speaking. I could have guessed that from his casting method, but I couldn’t have clearly identified it from this distance before.
And if I squinted, I thought I could even see a hint of the mana inside his body. I’d never seen anything like that before.
But more importantly, when I pulled my hand away from my forehead, I could see the thickness in the aura around my own body. The crimson was sharper, deeper, than when I’d looked at my own shroud in the past.
And in that moment, I’d understood.
I’d pushed my Enchanter attunement to Carnelian.
I stood up without prompting and bowed at the waist. “Thank you for the lesson.”
Professor Yang turned to me again. “You’re welcome, but we’re not quite done yet. Sit back down.”
I felt just the tiniest tug to obey.
I ignored it. “I’d rather not.”
The whole class turned their eyes toward me. Someone actually cheered.
Normally, I’d have been embarrassed by that, but you know what?
Not that time.
Professor Yang clapped softly. “Very impressive. I rarely see first-year students that can break that spell, even Controller students. Would you like to try resisting something more directed, rather than the class-wide spell?”
I shook my head. “Thank you for the offer, but not right now. That took a lot out of me, and if I’m being honest, I really don’t want to deal with that feeling again.”
“Well,” the professor nodded in sympathy, “Let’s hope you never have to.”
Given my luck, I knew exactly how likely that was.
I was tempted to walk right out of the classroom after that, but I didn’t want to be rude, and I knew there could be more useful information later on. Fortunately, Professor Yang didn’t make any effort to include me in his control spells again.
In fact, now that my Enchanter Attunement had gotten stronger, I could see the perception mana escaping as he spoke — and while it spread with his voice, it went around me. He was deliberately excluding me from the spell.
I both appreciated that and respected that he was capable of doing it. Shaping a spell to avoid one person implied a tremendous degree of mana control.
The rest of the lesson was focused on common signs that your allies were under compulsion spells, and how they could be definitively identified. My own experiences with Derek and my books had given me some insight into that already, but he did clarify a few important things.
Most Controller magic was linked to the sound of the Controller’s voice. If you could change the sound of the Controller’s voice significantly enough that they couldn’t be understood, that would prevent the victim from having to obey commands.
Covering the victim’s ears was effective for that to a point, but as we’d seen with that one clever student, just hearing the person partially was sometimes enough to trigger the command. You’d have to deafen someone entirely, or cover the Controller’s mouth completely, to be certain with that approach.
But that did give me an idea I hadn’t considered before. “Can you fake the Controller’s voice to give someone a command?”
“Huh. I suppose if they didn’t know it was coming from you, absolutely. They’d just have to think they were following the Controller’s orders.”
I grinned.
One new idea to work with, if I could find a way to change my voice.
I left the class feeling a strange combination of disgusted and giddy. I hated that someone had messed with my head, even briefly.
But the feeling of hitting Carnelian as an Enchanter, and seeing mana in a way I’d never seen it before?
That felt pretty darn good.
***
While I was walking back toward Derek’s manor, I checked the mana in my Enchanter Attunement — it read 70/60. That meant I still had a little bit of extra mana from when I’d overcharged it, and that I’d still drop back down to Quartz after I’d used it.
More importantly, it meant that my safe level had stabilized at 60 — the minimum threshold for Carnelian.
I didn’t usually celebrate. I was too focused on my studies, and it just didn’t feel important.
But for something like this?
I veered off from my path and stopped at a store.
I bought an entire chocolate cake.
And when I got back to Derek’s place, I shared it with everyone.
It was a personal accomplishment, sure — but cake was always better with friends.
***
The rest of the day was pretty easy. I burned off the little bit of extra mana I had left over my normal limit by just watching people with my Enchanter attunement active, taking in the sight of mana flowing out of people’s bodies, and getting a better idea of the details I could perceive with a stronger attunement.
Marissa’s shroud hadn’t looked any different from a normal Carnelian one before, but now, I could tell that it looked more solid than mine. It was still permeable to my sight, but it gave the impression that I was looking through something more like ice, whereas my own aura looked more like a misty haze.
Keras’ shroud looked even stranger now. It was still almost colorless, although I could see the hints of silver in it more easily now, even when he wasn’t doing anything with it. And it was subtle, but whenever his aura came in contact with another shroud, I could see tiny crackles of energy — and that the other shroud would begin to fray at the edges.
I resolved not to stand too close to Keras for an extended period of time.
After spending some time with my friends eating the cake, I spent more time studying foreign attunements, and more time thinking about how I’d just used my own.
I’d managed to increase my Enchanter attunement’s power permanently — and the improvement was more than the expected two percent.
Was that because it was my own attunement?
Or maybe because I’d converted the mana into a type that my attunement could easily process before I transferred it?
It could be an extra-large boost because it was the first time I’ve ever done, it, too. Maybe the efficacy of mana transfers decreases ove
r time, and the percent that Researcher told me was an average taken over a long period.
I paced around my room, considering more possibilities.
Maybe the boost that people retain is actually closer to a flat value, rather than being a percentage.
Or maybe it is a percentage, but the percentage varies based on current attunement level.
Oh, could it have to do with the relative level of the target attunement compared to the level of the Arbiter attunement? That might explain how Katashi was able to increase Marissa’s mana pool by such a high amount all at once...but no, that seems less likely.
The source of mana should be irrelevant, as long as it’s pure. Even if the mana density was higher, the initial mana amount isn’t the issue, it’s how much mana your body can safely generate in the aftermath that matters.
Hm.
I wanted to ask Katashi for more information, but I knew I might never see him — or another visage — again.
In the meantime, would it be safe to charge my own attunement regularly?
I didn’t have enough information.
Taking risks with my mind was not appealing, but the benefits of that single action had been significant. My capacity had been going up by roughly two per day, and I’d been at 56 in the morning before classes. That meant that I’d gained roughly 4 mana from that transfer — maybe a little less, depending on rounding.
That was a tremendous boost. An extra 4 mana per week...or, even better, maybe something more like eight percent, if it was based on a percentage of my maximum?
That would be an incredible boost if I could manage to figure out a way to do it routinely.
But what if I was doing myself permanent damage?
I needed to know — or at least have a better idea — before I risked it again.
If I didn’t have access to a visage to ask, my best bet was to find another Arbiter. I didn’t know of any, but maybe Researcher did.
So, I paid her a visit. I expected her to be mad at me when she found out that I’d used the Arbiter attunement on myself.
Her reaction was a little different.
“Ooh! What did it feel like? How high did you increase your mana pool to? And you said you retained more than a two percent increase? How much?”
I spent a few more minutes filling her in on everything else. She was practically bouncing — and I understood why, now. She was a creature of knowledge, and I was teaching her something new. In essence, I was feeding her a meal that she’d never tasted — and, presumably, a good one.
“Okay, so, you want to know if you hurt yourself? Hrm, come here.”
I hesitated, but drew closer.
“Aww, don’t be shy! This won’t hurt, honest.”
I came close enough to her enclosure for her to kneel down and put her hand on my forehead. Fortunately, the contact was brief and clinical.
“Hmm...hmm...hmmm! Okay, all done.” She folded her arms. “I can’t sense anything amiss with your mana. I’m not as good with diagnosing physical problems — you’d want a Mender for that. But there’s no mana scarring, and I don’t sense any problems in the functionality of the attunement itself. It’s working normally.”
I nodded. “Thanks, that does make me feel better. If I asked a Mender to check me for physical problems, what would I ask about?”
“Eh, hard to say. I honestly don’t expect there to be any issues — damaging your attunement was the main concern, and that didn’t happen. I suppose you could check to see if your brain is bleeding or something?”
I really didn’t like that image, but fortunately, it also was pretty clear that Researcher had no idea what she was talking about in that regard. “Okay, thank you. Do you have any insights on where I could find another Arbiter to talk to?”
She shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. There aren’t any that are still at the university, and there haven’t been any entering the Serpent Spire in the last couple years — or, at least, not declared as Arbiters. People usually only put their first attunement on the entry forms. It’s not necessary to include all of them.”
“That’s inconvenient.”
“Arbiters and other people with restricted attunements are usually pretty secretive about it, since it gives them a competitive advantage if no one knows exactly what they can do. The Valian National Library might have documents with listings of other Arbiters and contact information for them, but we don’t have anything like that here.”
That was tricky. The national library was in Estermark, the national capitol. It was hundreds of miles from Beaufort, the city where the academy was located. I could get to Estermark by train, but it would take a while.
“That Arbiter that disappeared. Any idea where he might have gone?”
“Warren Constantine? No indications of his whereabouts, unfortunately. Perhaps Ferras knows, but if she does, she hasn’t said anything publicly.”
If I could talk to Ferras, the Visage of Creation, I could probably solve a number of problems. Assuming she’d actually give me the help I wanted, of course. My Arbiter attunement would probably help with diplomacy with any visage, but it still didn’t guarantee any results. And she was all the way in Caelford, as far as I knew. Going there would take weeks or months.
I considered my other options. “What about experts that might know more about the restricted attunements?”
“Some of the Whispers might know how they work, or high-ranking members of the priesthood. Or people with other restricted attunements.”
Sheridan.
It was an obvious lead, now that I considered it. Sheridan presumably had been using a restricted attunement for a while, but I hadn’t asked them for any information.
Of course, that might necessitate another trade if it was considered forbidden knowledge...unless I could convince them that information about my own attunement didn’t count as forbidden for me.
It would be best to prepare for a trade, if only to keep Sheridan interested in dealing with me in the future. They were a valuable resource, and I didn’t want to squander that by asking for favors with nothing in return.
Of course, it also occurred to me that Tristan might know more — but I wasn’t going to ask him. I didn’t want to even think about the idea of owing him something, not when I was so conflicted about his situation in general.
“I think I know who to ask. Thanks, Researcher.”
Researcher gave me a little bow. “You’re quite welcome, Arbiter. Please come see me any time you have further questions...or more information to share.”
I waved and headed to the exit. “I’ll do that.”
***
I had a few agenda items to address before the next test. The first order of business was getting a Mender to check my condition. Researcher was probably right that I was fine, but I wanted someone specialized in healing to take a look, just in case.
I headed to Derek’s mansion to drop off a couple books I’d picked up in the Divinatory. I’d borrowed a few more tomes on foreign attunements, as well as a couple on advanced enchantments and mana manipulation.
Given my level of access to the restricted section, I also asked Researcher if there were any other powerful magical items that were currently being researched back there....just in case.
She mentioned two more things that interested me. One was a ring that utilized pre-attunement era sorcery, much like the Jaden Box did. The other was a gemstone that appeared to be intelligent.
Unfortunately, both were under more security than the Jaden Box had been, locked inside a safe that required a combination. Even the notes on them were in the safe, so I couldn’t learn more about them.
I got the names of the people who were leading the research teams on the items, but I didn’t recognize either of them. The one studying the ring was a Professor Henge, apparently one of the other enchanting teachers. The other was Lady Whitebrook, who apparently wasn’t a teacher, but a spire researcher who lived right nearby, much like Derek did.
Both of the items interested me, but neither was a priority. I had more than enough things to deal with.
Patrick stopped me when I was heading back out of the manor. “Where you going?”
“The hospital. Nothing to worry about, I just might have done something slightly unwise.”
“Again?”
I folded my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Patrick laughed. “I’m just teasing. You’re always experimenting with stuff. There are bound to be a few little things that go wrong here and there.”
He was right, of course, but I waved a hand dismissively anyway. “Fine, fine. You’re forgiven. I’ll be back soon.” I started heading for the door.
“Wait, hold on.”
I turned my head back. “Hm?”
“If you’re going to the hospital, there’s something you should know.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Jin is there.”
I turned right back around. “Wait, what?”
Patrick turned away, looking sheepish. “I was going to tell you, but...I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. I checked in on him when Sera and I went to the hospital the other day. He was in bad shape at the time, and, well... I didn’t know if he was going to make it.”
I took a step forward, staring at him. “And you didn’t tell me?”
He didn’t meet my gaze. “If you visited him, and he died afterward, you’d have never forgiven yourself. You’d have told yourself that you should have done something, that you could have fixed things if you’d tried harder. It’s who you are.”
“And if he’s dead now, I have to deal with the fact that I didn’t do anything because you didn’t tell me about it. Thanks for that.”