by Kim Wedlock
"'Magical significance' is right," Rathen agreed, turning at last to face them.
Garon's tight bearing loosened as he noted the concern in the mage's eyes, and while Anthis mirrored the inquisitor's sudden worry, his expression was riddled quite openly with interest. "What is it?"
"I can't speak for the other places," he stated quite clearly to begin with, "but this place has strong magical magnetism." He opened his hand and showed them a golden coin. Then, after he'd curled and flexed the fingers on his right hand with astounding speed - coating the coin in energy, he told them, though they both suspected it wasn't as simple as that - he tossed it up in the air and caught it as it dropped. But though he'd thrown it straight upwards with surprising accuracy, it moved slightly towards the left at its apex. He tossed it again, and it pulled to the left once more. He offered the coin to Garon and Anthis, and though they each flicked it straight upwards, tried it in both hands and Anthis even took a moment to face the direction opposite the coin's consistent pull before giving it a final attempt, it always resulted in the same eastward shift.
They frowned quizzically as he put the coin back in his pocket. "Somewhere over there is the central focus of the magnetism, and the energy I wrapped around the coin was drawn to it. It's a very, very slight pull, which is why the coin only moved a fraction, but it's enough to affect a spell with a sensitive construction like this one so close to its focus. If I created a blanketing spell of energy over this area, it would be fractionally stronger here than, say, back on the forest road, and if I created a scattering spell of energy, one or two more clusters would gather here than elsewhere over the forest. In short, magic is drawn to this point."
"Magical magnetism..." Anthis mused, his eyes brightening with intrigue. "So what does that mean?"
"I suppose, if the other sites are the same, it means you could have your answer regarding magical significance for the elves and their gods, whatever good that would do you. For mages, though, it means little; studies have been made and it's quite possible some are still ongoing - I'm not exactly in the loop - but as far as I'm aware, there is nowhere within the magnetic field, at the edge or dead centre, where either magic or spells have been truly strengthened or weakened, spell range increased or decreased, or anything truly helpful or hindering occurring. And as magnetism can't be created, even if magic was affected in a useful way, it would only be affected where it was naturally occurring." He shrugged. "Honestly, despite all the studies, it's proven to be of little significance. It's just one of those things - like cows lying down when it's going to rain, or Aria's milky hiccups."
The girl blushed and pursed her lips.
Garon turned him a level stare. "And what does this mean for us?"
Rathen's deep brown eyes met his gaze, and both inquisitor and historian saw the growing haunt within them. "The magnetism itself doesn't mean much, but there is magic here."
Garon's shoulders dropped in dismay while Anthis looked thoughtfully off into the distance. "'Ongoing studies'," the officer repeated, "so it could be mages after all. They've found a way to use magnetism to their benefit and they're setting up--"
Rathen was shaking his head, his frown twisted into a strange mixture of confusion and certainty. Only then did Garon notice that that puzzlement had been there since he'd begun.
"It is magic," Rathen assured him, "but it doesn't feel...right."
"What do you mean? And be clear, please."
He breathed a humourless laugh, but he would do his best. "This magic is chaotic; it's wild - almost raw."
Garon frowned, and Anthis's attention returned to them as his own brow furrowed.
"I know what you were thinking, Inquisitor, but this is no spell. It's not woven, there's no construction or purpose to it at all...but..." his frown deepened as he looked around at the clearing, as if hoping an explanation would fall from the top of one of the surrounding trees, loosened by a foraging squirrel. Aria followed his gaze. "It shouldn't be possible..."
"Could the magic not have been put here?" Anthis asked, but the mage shook his head doubtfully.
"I've been out of touch with the Order for some time, I don't know what they've learned to do or what they've been working on. I suppose it's possible that this could have been put in place deliberately, perhaps as some kind of large-scale defence against the wars, or as some kind of power reserve...but what it does, how they could have managed it, or why they would risk it, I haven't a clue." He looked back at them both, and Aria smiled at the resolve in his eyes and tightening fists. "You were right, Inquisitor: this is serious - even dangerous. There is something far from right about it, and whatever the reason for this...this pool of magic being here, it needs to be removed. If this magic is what has collected in the other places you and Karth have mentioned - and I suspect it is - then it's not surprising that it's affecting the world and weather around it, and it could get much worse than even you, Inquisitor, suspect."
"Can you do it?"
Rathen blinked at the officer's question, and at the intensity of his grey eyes. "No," he replied without a trace of doubt. "No one can. I can't even fathom how they managed to put it here in the first place, or whoever it was that did it. Magic cannot exist unchained, it's like the blood it mixes with: it's formed by and used within the organisms that made it. When spells are created, the raw magic is drawn out of the mage's body and given structure and purpose, and when the spell is released, the magic does only what it was woven to do; there are absolutely no effects beyond what was intended. And when a spell disintegrates over time, the weave falls apart and the magic gradually disperses and fades away, like spilled blood evaporating and drying. It no longer has a purpose and it can't maintain its form - and no, before you ask, this isn't the gathering of disintegrated magic, either. It doesn't take very much magic to form a spell, even a grand one, and it disperses so slowly that it has no effect except the cease of the spell because the intention behind it is lost." He shook his head as Anthis frowned, likely chewing over his messy explanation though he'd delivered it as simply as he could. "And yet this magic is so raw it's as if it was formed right here, out of nothing, all on its own."
"Is the structure of the magic any different from that within people?" Anthis asked, his thoughtful expression unchanging as his eyes refocused from the distance and back onto the mage. "As in, its...well its actual existence here compared to its existence in your...blood."
"No, not as far as I can tell. The magic here feels as if it's ready and waiting to be shaped into a spell, but there's nothing and no one to contain or direct it so it simply cannot be used. It's purposeless. And there's much, much more of it than any single mage could ever possess."
"So to further your analogy, it's as if blood has formed on its own in a puddle somewhere with nothing to give life to." Anthis folded his arms. "Then won't this magic disperse like the blood would dry up?"
"If it would vanish so easily then I don't see why it would have appeared at all."
"You're concerned," Garon observed. Rathen had felt his eyes drilling into him for some time.
"I am. I can't see why or how raw magic would be here like it is, nor what could come of it. But..." again his eyes scoured the clearing. "But if no one could have put it here, where did it come from? And why?"
Anthis straightened and decisively shook his muddled thoughts away. "Back to basics: can no mage remove this magic from this place?" Rathen shook his head, still looking around. "Then, with the elves having died out centuries ago, that means no one can." Anthis raised a finger before Garon could protest. "But perhaps something can."
Rathen frowned sceptically, but the speed with which he'd turned betrayed his intrigue.
"There are legends that the elves, near the end of their reign, created something that could take away someone's magic."
Garon's eyes sharpened. "That's possible? Such a thing could exist?"
He gave a non-committal bob of his head. "Legends say they do."
"Legen
ds say a lot of things." Rathen folded his arms and regarded him with increasing scepticism. "Like some men turn into wolves on a full moon, or that if you look a harpy in the eye you'll see your death."
"That is true," Anthis nodded, smiling despite the mage's doubt, "but legends actually make up a good deal of history, and they can be quite insightful into extinct cultures - and an understanding of culture, even if it's based upon their stories and superstition, can help to derive what they considered important in life, which can shed light on the purpose of buildings, keepsakes, artefacts and relics - and where those mentioned but not yet discovered are likely to have been kept."
"But is that still the case when the very item in question is also a legend?"
His smile dauntlessly broadened. "Sometimes. I certainly wouldn't put it past the elves to have created such a thing - they had the knowledge, and the means."
"Did legends lead you to that conclusion, too?"
"Nope, their very history did, and it doesn't take much to come to that conclusion when you think about it: humans were servants to the elves, so they must have had quite a sense of superiority to put themselves above a whole race. Then there were their increasingly grand buildings and the increasingly useless and fanciful possessions they created and accumulated, and then the fact that they eventually deemed themselves so far above everything that they wouldn't even touch things anymore and wore gloves all the time instead."
Rathen raised an eyebrow. "Arrogant, then?"
"Not at first," the excited young man replied, "but eventually, yes. Extremely. Though that worked out well for humans because it meant that our knowledge and skill in building and crafting increased under their instruction; they taught us so we could do it all instead."
"Then this artefact would have been a means of maintaining their standing above humans? By removing their magic?"
"Of those few who had 'stolen' it from them, yes - or perhaps as a weapon against each other."
Surprise stole over even Aria's face.
"Remove the magic of the enemy and hit them with all you've got..." Rathen mused.
"But would that not also cancel out their own magic?"
"Elves were very contextual," the historian replied, "they weren't the type to generalise when it came to their own people, and in the case of a weapon such as this, they would have been especially precise."
"And against magic, steel would have no effect."
"Steel wouldn't have been a likely resort anyway, Inquisitor. No weapons from post-magic elven civilisation have ever been uncovered; once they'd gotten to grips with their magic and let it go to their heads, they turned away from other forms of attack and defence and relied exclusively on that. I know I would."
Rathen silently conceded to the fact that he didn't really know how to swing a sword.
"Do you have anything solid on these legends?" Garon asked. "Or is it just another theory?"
"Oh no, I've definitely done my research," he assured him eagerly. "Among many vague mentions of magic suppression that my colleagues have already chased to dead ends, I've found several strong associations between magic removal and an item of some kind that could achieve it...but I admit that there has been no hard proof and certainly no recovery of such a thing. But," he added, raising another quick finger to silence the inquisitor's impending frustration, "given the variety of sources containing these mentions, and the consistency of the noted locations, I and many others believe it's very likely to have existed."
"Wait," Rathen suddenly growled, "existed?"
"Well unless a mage was in its presence its magical potential wouldn't be sensed," Anthis replied quickly in fear of invoking the mage's wrath, and stumbled back a step, raising his hands defensively as he noted Garon's expression similarly darken, "so if it has been recovered, I've heard nothing about it. So much gets bought and sold privately by treasure hunters that only about half of it actually reaches the attention of historians..."
"I'm a treasure hunter!" Aria suddenly declared, her cheerful voice catching all of them off-guard. Rathen and Anthis both spared her a soft, lopsided smile, while Garon expressed only further frustration. It was difficult to know if it was aimed at her or at Anthis's additional information. "I found a spoon in the garden! It was really, really old and dirty! My daddy said it was left by garden elves!"
Rathen couldn't help a chuckle, but his severe expression was quick to return as he turned back to Anthis, who seemed disappointed that the distraction was so brief. "No ordinary mage would sense magic in an inanimate object," he told him plainly, "and besides, you're conveniently forgetting one detail: it, if it ever existed, is lost. Which means no one has been maintaining whatever spell is within it, so it has certainly broken down by now, irreparably so."
"I'm not so sure. This was an object of great importance to the elves. Aside from a potential weapon, it was also a landmark accomplishment, a great advancement in their use of magic. I think the magic within it could well have been...safeguarded, sealed or something."
"If it was truly that important, then it could have been, couldn't it?"
Rathen shifted beneath their hopeful gazes, then sighed uncertainly, "I suppose--"
"So magic does work that way?" Anthis asked, surprised.
"As I understand it, the spells holding elven cities together are still mostly elven, they've just been patched up by the Order. Some spells take longer to fall apart than others depending on what they were designed to do."
"Yes," Rathen began, "but--"
"Well that backs up my theory! It should still be salvageable!"
Rathen shook his head and bit back a growl of frustration. "If such a thing were to have existed," he pressed, his voice edged, determined not to be interrupted again. "But as I've said, no ordinary mage would notice the magic! It would take someone with potent magic themselves to react to such a thing - no one below the rank of sahrakh would notice it."
"Which is one thing that has been holding me back from exploring the matter further," Anthis explained with a sigh, though there was suddenly a bold trace of hope in his voice that Rathen hadn't missed. "Having someone versed in magic wouldn't just help to detect the artefact itself, or reach it if it's been put behind some kind of magical defence, but it would also help me make much quicker sense of some of the more technical details of my research."
Rathen narrowed his eyes, very aware of the fact that Anthis's eyes hadn't even grazed him throughout that last little declaration.
"But regardless," he continued obliviously, "I'm confident that something like that wouldn't be found anywhere treasure hunters could go. If it can silence the magic of elves, it wouldn't be kept anywhere so easily accessible by their own kind, let alone by humans."
"So where would it be kept?"
Anthis smiled impishly. "That's the question, isn't it?"
Rathen shook his head and finally turned away, heading back towards the horses in dismissal. Aria frowned and hurried after him, pausing momentarily to glance uncertainly back to the others.
"I would feel much more comfortable knowing for certain that it hasn't been found."
"Then perhaps you should contact the Order, Inquisitor," Rathen suggested, adjusting his dappled mare's bridle. "One of the scholars might know something. Otherwise, I think you're wasting your time with this man."
Anthis suddenly stammered and blustered, his expression twisting into a frown for the first time that morning. "I've got a better idea of what's going on in this matter than any of your colleagues do!"
"Then tell me," Rathen shot back, turning away from the horse with irritation, "besides not having a mage to follow you around, what else has stopped you from pursuing this subject? Because I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius among historians, but it sounds to me like you're working with nothing but 'legends' and guesswork."
Anthis glared back at him, his previously bright green eyes now tainted by offence. "I've got plenty," he managed not to snap. "Over the past three y
ears I've followed numerous leads to dead ends - leads that have cost others their careers - whittling the matter down from 'legends' to as close to fact as it can be without solid proof. Because that's what this job is. We read, we compare, and we think; we rarely have solid or physical evidence to work with. We make connections using information and findings from past research and create a gradually bigger picture of the past which provides answers to thousands questions, some of which haven't been asked yet while others have for decades, but more often than not, never to the question you're actually trying to crack!" He stormed forwards before his caution managed to restrain him short, though his lines of his anger and insult couldn't hold a candle to Rathen's irritation. "I've had no choice but to put this research on the back burner countless times, despite my desperation to bring it to fruition, because if I don't keep working on other more promising discoveries and theories I'll be cast out from the Fellowship of the Historical Society, and without the money I make from their contacts and independent organisations for my continued work, I'll have no way to support myself!"
Aria shrank beneath the weight of the atmosphere, and Anthis's jaw tightened defiantly beneath Rathen's judgement. But, with a tense sigh, he forced himself to reel his anger back in.
"I've done all the leg work for this already," Anthis assured him, slightly calmer, "and since the last time I had to push this aside, a number of notes in my research have begun to stand out. I've made an educated guess and finally found a next step, I just needed the opportunity - and the help - to get it moving."
"'An educated guess'," Rathen turned back to the horse. "Then you have no real leads."
"What is this next step?" Garon asked, snatching the reins of the conversation before Anthis could respond, even as the young man appeared to boil over.
His furious eyes snapped onto the inquisitor and once again fought to pull himself together. "To go to the city of Mokhan. That's where all my research seems to point."