Chapter 205 - Steps On the Long Path

It turned out the ‘bit of fun’ had to wait; they first had to acquire a tri-point meter, which took longer than any of them anticipated. While a carriage full of servants was borrowing one from one of the private academies in the city, Gabriel took the time to review the menu and made some suggestions to the building’s chief chef. Having thoroughly annoyed the kitchens, they started compiling lists of places they’d searched throughout the loops and what they’d found, ranging from geographic features to which libraries they’d ransacked.

When the tri-point meter finally arrived, Mirian was glad to take a break from the drudgery. However, when she inspected the basement of the tower, she frowned. “The stone isn’t thick enough. We should do it outside of town.” That statement seemed to delight Gabriel. So next, they acquired a map, and Mirian found an abandoned quarry they could use.

They hired a carriage. Mirian gave an impromptu lecture on artificing as she fixed up the tri-point meter. “They have to use special ones for testing archmages, but adding a few extra conduits and replacing the energy divination glyphs is simple enough, just remember you’re introducing five new flux glyphs so you need to add three pairs of static glyphs along the secondary axis. Gabriel, don’t pretend to snore, you need to know this sort of thing. I need leyline detector data in Urubandar and Alatishad at the start of the cycle; there’s a southern anomaly in the energy gradient my equations can’t account for.”

“How do you keep it all in your head?” he asked. 

“Practice,” Mirian lied. “And imagination. I match memories with statues and features of the Mausoleum of the Ominian. Then, I always have a connection to the thing I need to remember.”

“Clever,” Liuan said. “I used my father’s house.”

Gabriel made a face. “You’re using memory tricks?”

Once they’d disembarked, they had to shoo away the servants. “Yes, we’ll be safe, darlings,” Gabriel told them. “Go have lunch at the inn we passed on the way here.”

They waited a bit, then levitated down into the quarry. That means Liuan Var can hit at least 70 myr, she thought. It was probably higher, but that established a baseline of competency she couldn’t hide.

“Liuan, you’re first up,” she announced.

“I thought we were just measuring hers. I don’t have a combat wand,” she said.

“Terrible excuses. Here you are,” Gabriel said, handing her his own searing fire wand. It was the same one he always carried, which meant it was probably easy to acquire.

“Wand design is a limiting factor in maximum energy output—”

“Then bring your own wand the next time we do this. Go ahead.”

Liuan sighed, then set up by the tri-point meter. She took aim at the quarry wall, and then a gout of flame burst out, flashing bright in the midday sun.

“82 myr,” Gabriel announced. To Mirian he asked, “Are you in the camp that thinks anyone can become an archmage with enough practice, or the side that thinks only rare individuals can accomplish the status?”

Mirian didn’t have a good answer for that. “I don’t know yet. No matter what, practice can drastically improve your capability. But then, certain people like to practice more than others. I find it satisfying. Others find it excruciating. But was that taught, or something inherent to their birth? I don’t have any particular insights into the philosophers that study the issue, though I suspect I don’t possess any inherent traits. I tested at 36 myr near the start of this all.”

Gabriel whistled. “Well, my turn.” He took the wand from Liuan, then strode up to the detector.

Mirian watched as he casually let out a cone of fire. “74 myr. But you weren’t even trying. Come on,” she said.

He flashed her a grin. “That was a test to see if you’re learning to catch lies. The worst lies aren’t always said with words.” This time, he lowered the wand and spent some time in the aiming pose. Flames erupted again, this time, significantly brighter and hotter. The black scorch marks on the quarry wall grew larger.

“87 myr,” Liuan said.

“Care to try to beat that?”

“No,” she replied. “Mirian’s turn. You want the wand?”

“I’ll use my spellbook, thank you. That thing isn’t using a double-conduit, so it’d break. You’ll both want to stand back. A bit further. A bit further. A bit—there, that’s fine.” As she approached the tri-point meter, soulbound spellbook in hand, she considered her fellow Prophets. With a proper wand, Gabriel might be able to hit 90 myr, but he’s liable to panic in a fight. He can’t consistently output that kind of spellpower, or the fight with the bandits would have been a lot closer. Liuan might be weaker, but there was a shorter delay between setup and spell, meaning she’s probably the better combat mage. Also, I think she’s more competent with soul magic by far.

Then she cleared her mind, taking a deep breath. Most of the time in combat, she was holding back so she wouldn’t burn so much mana, and because she needed tight control on her mana flows to cast simultaneous or quickened spells. Still, she’d been practicing for maximum spellpower, and she’d always had a competitive urge. Better to show them this, instead of the secrets that matter most, she reassured herself.

She closed her eyes and continued her deep breathing. She saw the Ominian sitting on Their throne. She tapped into the titan catalyst and her auric mana began to stir. Usually, she cast almost immediately, but now, she let it swirl and gather. She concentrated it into a single stream, holding it at ready. She prepared to take soul energy from her repositories and converted it to mana. With the right timing, the overall power of the spell would be increased. She opened her eyes. 

Mirian cast. 

The noon sun was bright, but the greater lightning that erupted from her was brighter. The bolt roared, the thunder echoing throughout the quarry. She saw the lightning had taken on a violet hue before it blinded her. The ground shook. She cut the spell after only a few seconds.

The bolt had sent fissures through the rock, all of which glowed molten. A large face of the rock wall had collapsed. Along the sandy floor of the quarry, fulgurite had formed where smaller forks had spalled off the main bolt. The air smelled of ozone and ash.

Gabriel took a moment to find his words. Finally, he said, “God’s fucking blood.” He looked at Mirian, then at the detector, then back at Mirian. “134 myr,” he said.

Liuan didn’t say anything. Her gaze was just fixed on the quarry wall, watching the stone as it cooled.

“So that’s how,” Gabriel said.

***

The rest of their Council was not nearly as dramatic. Gabriel had servants bring them maps of every city they’d visited. They set about applying the lists of places they’d explored already to the map, covering them in annotations and notes. Mirian only held back what she considered critical information. She noted most of what she’d found in the Grand Sanctum, but noted the Holy Pages and Sword of the Fourth Prophet as missing, instead of the state she’d actually found them in. She omitted the Prophet’s letter she’d found in a secret room, mostly so that none of them would get too interested in the Sanctum. She assumed the others were holding back their own information too.

Despite all they’d learned and all the places they’d visited, the task before them was onerous. There were dozens of universities and academies that the three of them had barely touched, including Vadriach University.

“Good reason to get that Jherica fellow up and in fighting shape,” Gabriel said. His jovial mood had faded after the spellpower tests in the quarry, but had now returned. “They’re a professor of something, right? Ought to give us a head start on that place.”

Liuan was being coy about Ferrabridge, which hinted to Mirian that was where she started the loops. She knew Arborholm well, though, which meant she’d figured out how to operate right under Troytin’s nose back when he was still in the loops.

They made lists of archives and libraries, divided them up by who would explore them, and then set about memorizing them. And Mirian did memorize them instead of writing them down, mostly because her soulbound pages were already crammed full of information and a few more names and locations wouldn’t be too much of a bother.

Next, they pulled out the larger maps of the continents.

“No one’s been out to Tlaxhucao?” Gabriel asked.

Liuan said, “No. And their relationship with Akana Praediar is… poor. I could infiltrate, but getting useful information might take dozens of cycles as I evaded a bunch of grumpy nagual.”

“What’s a nagual?”

Mirian chimed in. “Sort of like a druid, but more focused on plants. Actually, I know a minor Tlaxhuaco noble heir, so I might be able to get to the island with him. I also don’t have any sort of suspicious background. The island should be a low priority, though. Leyline energy is anomalously low there, probably due to them not using spell engines. I took measurements from Takoa, and there didn’t seem to be any pooling that indicates a Gate in the major cities where we might expect to find one.”

Liuan nodded. “Agreed. And eastern Baracuel?”

Mirian furrowed her brow. “East of Madinahr? Hardly anyone lives in the wildlands. There’s a few fortress cities and some farming far out by the coast. I haven’t had the opportunity to go get good readings, but it’s also out of the path of the leyline energy cascade. I can investigate, but I’d say it’s a low priority too.”

“As is east Persama. It’s desert right up until it becomes the stormcoast. There’s a reason only a few nutters live out there,” Gabriel said. “Zhighua?”

“Haven’t been there,” Liuan said.

“Nor I,” Mirian said. “It’s also extremely far.”

Gabriel sighed. “I’m closest, but ships only run sporadically when the route is signaled as clear. Have to have good weather and no leviathans. It’s a nasty coastline to navigate, too. Naturally, the last merchant convoy departed on the 24th of Cerelorn. An airship might catch them, but there are none near me. I’ll also need to brush up on my Gulwenen.”

“How much do you know?” asked Liuan.

“None at all,” Gabriel said, smiling sweetly.

“I’m not teaching you. Find a tutor,” Liuan said.

“In Urubandar!?”

“Anywhere. Use that clever brain of yours.”

“Zhighua is a priority to explore, but we have our other tasks ahead of that. There’s not just the research work, but locating and exploring the Labyrinth for Vaults.”

Gabriel sighed even louder this time. “I hate the Labyrinth.”

“And yet, it’s obvious that time travelers are the only ones who can properly navigate it.”

“It’s a death sentence.”

“And yet, death means so little to us.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gabriel grumbled.

Liuan nodded.

That was the next task they set themselves on—documenting all the entrances to the Labyrinth and noting who would explore them.

“There’s entrances in Frostland’s Gate, Torrviol, and Second Cairn,” Mirian said. “I’ve only explored the first one. One Vault.”

Gabriel told them of the one he knew about in Urubandar and what he’d found down there. “I’ve done no research at all about any others. I’m sure there’s quite a few others. One in Alatishad, I think, and definitely one in the Jiandzhi, but that wilderness is a worse death trap than the Labyrinth itself.”

“The leyline eruption west of Ferrabridge exposed part of the Labyrinth. That’s where the Akanan Army found the leyline repulsors,” Liuan said.

Oh, so you already knew, Mirian thought, annoyed.

“There’s an entrance the Semnol know about, hidden somewhere and protected by treaty rights so they can do some ceremonial trial. Vadriach also has an entrance nearby, which the University jealously guards. That one should be easy for me to get to.”

Mirian nodded. “Good. We can add more as we find them. Finding entrances should be easier than actually exploring them. The initial levels can be explored fairly easily by a single person, perhaps with a few mercenaries. If we find something worthwhile deeper, we can try banding together. There’s also the potential that the antimagic fields—entropic or suppression—might be extremely useful in regulating the leylines. Eventually, I’d like to get Torrviol’s professors investigating one, but it might be even easier to get Vadriach University to research that.”

“Potentially,” Liuan said.

Then, with the big picture items out of the way, it was onto more details. They mapped out magical resources. By Gabriel’s insistence, they added fossilized myrvite deposits to the map, even though Mirian grumbled about it being counterproductive to use the stuff. On her insistence, they mapped out myrvite populations. She explained what she’d found up in the Endelice Mountains, and was eventually able to convince Liuan it might be worth seeing what happened if she could halt the mass culling of myrvites out in western Akana.

Mapping out all the resources that might be useful was time consuming, and required consulting several oppressively large texts.

By Gabriel’s insistence, they took breaks to enjoy life in Florin City. “When They say, ‘this place,’ They mean we should enjoy it,” he said. “That’s why the world exists!” Mirian knew he was projecting his own desires on the God, but she let it slide.

To mix things up, Mirian began running several practice sessions on magic use and teaching sessions on artifice. Liuan understood Gulwenen a lot better than she spoke it, but she gave them some basic instruction. That made Gabriel even more cross than artifice lessons, though he picked it up fairly quickly.

As they continued to compile information and tasks, Mirian took to studying pre-Unification maps of south Baracuel and Persama. The first thing she noticed were dozens of towns and villages that appeared on the older maps, but not the new ones. History class, it seemed, had omitted the full scope of devastation that has visited the area around the East Sound.

Her memories of recognizing the Southern Range—what the Persamans called Nihayabranan—made her think that perhaps she had lived north of Mahatan as a child. There was an inconsistency there, though the most obvious explanation was that the people that had taken her from her birth parents had lied. But why? To what purpose? There was an occupation and massacre of Mahatan around the same time. But north of the city—all these villages are gone. And we just mapped out the resources. There’s no fossilized myrvite. There’s no mines. You couldn’t find a place more inhospitable to farming. 

She was missing something. And the disturbing part was that it had to do with her. She hoped the other Prophets didn’t bother inquiring about her past. 

Mirian closed her eyes and tried to remember that moment she’d seen. It wouldn’t come. The angle was wrong, but that makes sense. Most of the abandoned villages are east, between the edge of the great desert and Falijmali. The area around the bay makes the most sense to investigate.

It was, approximately, what she had already assumed, going off of the area the Praetorians were going to investigate, but it was good to get confirmation. The trick was that she would need to be cautious. She needed to locate Atroxcidi without tipping him off. His undead army might have moved north, but no one had actually sighted the necromancer himself moving with it.

They wrapped up the first Council of Prophets with little fanfare. Gabriel insisted he be allowed to celebrate properly and take a break from their research. Mirian let him, with the caveat that he tell them nothing about what he wanted to get up to. Liuan’s RID agents were getting restless, so she departed back to Akana. She was needed there to stop the invasion to extend the cycle anyways, which would give them more time overall.

Mirian lingered in Florin, skimming through various libraries, figuring she might as well do as much research as possible in the city while she was there. In the evenings, she walked around the parks. Dhelia and Jeron liked to let Zayd play after dinner, so it seemed like the easiest way to search.

One evening, she saw him. He was unmistakable, a little bundle of excitement and joy raging about the park, chasing ducks and joining in ball games with other children that had no fathomable rules to them.

It was such a relief. They’d made it. They escaped the war, escaped the fighting.

Dhelia and Jeron sat by the park bench. Jeron had a nasty scar on his face that a priest had done a poor job healing. Dhelia had an arm bandaged. It seemed they were low on coin, but they were smiling too as they watched Zayd play, and they looked alright.

Mirian kept her illusion over her face. She yearned to join Zayd, but she couldn’t be sure that Gabriel or Liuan’s agents weren’t still watching her. Instead, she contented herself to watch from a distance, and simply take joy in that. I’ll leave a good world for you, Zayd, she promised him.

The plans were in motion. The Prophets were beginning to work together. There’s a path, she thought, to both Zayd and the Ominian.