《On Cosmic Tides》


 Ch 1 - Waking Up

    Laurel shot a mass of uncontrolled lightning through the cave opening as she dove to the side, hastily pulling together a basic shield technique. The attack had enough power to make even her ears ring with the thunder that followed. She crouched low on the side of the cave, panting from the sudden outpouring of power. No counterattack followed. Struggling to see through the dust and dirt her strike had thrown into the air, she reached out with her spiritual sense. A pulse of mana sent air whipping through the opening, clearing the haze.


    Nothing. She felt nothing, she saw nothing. There should have been a team of cultivators waiting. Even if those thrice-cursed bastards had started running the moment she was past the threshold, she should still be able to feel them. The sound of her breathing echoed through the cave as she stood and took stock of her surroundings. It was an easy prospect. The room appeared entirely empty except for a small light crystal in the corner, some rocks and debris that had fallen from the ceiling, and her. What had been described to her as a natural cave system, she could now see was man-made. Crudely shaped, for certain, but someone had taken the time to carve this hollow into the earth. They must have used mortal methods as well, as no earth-attuned cultivator with a scrap of pride would have left the walls so rough. A quick lap of the room revealed nothing else, no hidden doors or extra supplies. With no further reason to delay, she made her way to the exit.


    Kneeling for a closer look, Laurel made out the faded remains of the script across the opening of her cave. Clean, elegant. It must have been the work of a master, there was no way she would have missed it the first time otherwise. Ego soothed, she held out her palm in time for a small chisel to appear and drop into it. She carefully chipped away at the runes, one at a time. A brief pause between each ensured no cascading failure or traps for the unwary. She stood and brushed away the dirt from the knees of her robe, cursing the need to maintain an image in front of lesser sects. The team she had entered with was gone and not returning, not with the amount of noise she made and the time it took to search the cell. The need for caution was gone.


    She took a deep breath. Then another. Then let out a scream of frustration. They were gone! She¡¯d traveled here to help them, at their own request, and they thought to push her into some filthy pit and run off through a pre-set portal? Small sparks of lightning arced between her fingers as squalls of wind carved thin furrows into the hard-packed dirt floor. Hunting those cowards down and exacting retribution moved to the top of her priorities. She had scraped and clawed her way up for a hundred years to be recognized as a master cultivator. Now these cowards had made a fool of her and that simply could not stand.


    One more sweep of the area revealed a small patch of the wall was a different texture to the rest. To the left of the entryway a small bronze plaque was embedded flush with the wall, covered in a patina of brown and green. Grimacing, she reached out and brushed her fingers across the grubby surface, noting the ridge of some sort of etching. This time a rag popped into existence in Laurel¡¯s hands, followed by parchment and charcoal as she made a careful rubbing. She held the parchment up in front of the light crystal, moving her hands until the angle was right to shine through and reveal the original text.


    Laurel Stormblade


    Master - Eternal Archive


    Air, Lightning, Metal


    She stopped cold. Trapping her here had not been some spur of the moment decision. They had planned the entire thing, with the absolute gall to create some sort of memorial label. The whole sect must have been involved in luring her here in order to¡­keep her in some twisted menagerie? Her temper roared back to the forefront. She would dismantle their entire sect, starting with the sectmaster and elders, working her way down through the masters and experts, then to the adepts. The initiates might be spared if they were appropriately contrite, but the Tranquil Mountain Sect would be erased from history by the time she was through.


    Seizing the light crystal and ripping it off the wall, Laurel strode back towards the surface. Ten steps later she stopped and returned to the cave, what would have been her cell. Shadows danced along the walls as light filtered through her clenched fist. The plaque hadn¡¯t changed, still smugly affixed outside of the cell. Laurel once more trailed her fingers across the thin metal while staring down the rough-hewn hallway towards the surface. Her thoughts swirled. Something about this was important, more than she had first realized. She relaxed her focus and let her mind find whatever it was that plucked at her instincts.


    It struck her. The cultivators she had arrived with had escaped impossibly fast, and this bronze plaque was tarnished. It takes years for metal to gain that kind of coating. Either this small sect had been planning to trap her, specifically, for ages before they reached out to her sect for assistance ¨C and had somehow gained the resources and expertise to set up a ruinously expensive and finicky, undetectable teleport circle ¨C or they had succeeded in their capture attempt. A pit began to form in her stomach. This was so much worse than she had thought. It would be centuries before she outlasted the indignity. Some piddling sect from the middle of nowhere, with no reputation to speak of, had trapped her in a box for years. Had the sect come by to gawk at the captured master? And where were they now? They must have had a plan for when she woke up.


    She couldn¡¯t fathom what the purposes had been. Frozen in time, she would have been defenseless if they wanted to kill her. Possible scenarios were dismissed almost as soon as she thought of them. She paced ten strides up the corridor, spun precisely and paced the ten steps back. Even knowing she was now free, she acted like a trapped predator, ready to lash out at the first thing she saw that wasn¡¯t a fucking rock.


    Maybe one of her friends had gotten concerned and slaughtered their way through the sect after realizing Laurel had disappeared after visiting. Any of them were powerful enough to scythe through the Tranquil Mountain like so much wheat. There was a grim satisfaction in that imagery. Laurel might have a temper, but some of her friends were downright bloodthirsty when someone they cared for was threatened.


    The path back to the surface was a winding two or three kilometers, with other tunnels branching off at a few junctures. One of Laurel¡¯s original reasons for being here was to help the crafting-focused Tranquil Mountain Sect secure the tunnels from some spirit beasts that had taken up residence in the warren-like structure. More lies. As Laurel¡¯s senses extended throughout the cave system there was nothing larger than a few rodents and some insects. More disturbing, she was limited to the tunnels themselves. Pushing out at full strength, she should have been able to feel any mana or life signatures within a rough sphere around her body for several kilometers. But she was currently blind to anything above ground. The sect must have added lead or powdered void flowers into the walls when they carved out the tunnels. The light crystal still in Laurel¡¯s hand was in danger of cracking as her fists clenched. Each new piece of evidence of premeditation kept the fires of her temper burning right beneath the surface. Blue light seeped out in broken beams between her fingers, adding to the eeriness of the empty halls she was stalking through.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Within a few minutes she arrived at the sealed entrance. A thorough inspection convinced Laurel that any protections from the initial construction were long gone. It was shameful, really. Any organization calling itself a crafting sect should be able to seal a door for more than a few years. Even more any sect with the rank arrogance to try and imprison a master.


    She felt around the stone sealing the entrance, letting her hands trace the contours of the barrier. It was a single piece of dark granite, flecked with metallic chips that gleamed in the light of the glow stone. The thickness was impossible to determine. Her fingertips detected a slight curve to the stone, bowing outward into the space beyond. Setting her feet in a side stance, she positioned her shoulder in the apex of the curve and began to push. At first nothing happened. But she didn¡¯t let up. She heaved, thighs quivering and arms straining. Finally the stone began to shift. Just a hair at first. Then the gap slowly widened until a few centimeters was open, then half a meter, and with one last push the stone crashed to the floor, sending up a cloud of dust.


    Laurel¡¯s hand arced in a slash from shoulder to hip, and a bolt of lightning shimmered into existence and slammed through the open doorway and into the next room. Wind followed to clear the debris from the air as she slipped through the door and stepped to the side while dropping into a defensive stance. She summoned a short sword into her left hand, expanding her senses as rapidly as she could without ignoring her immediate surroundings.


    Once more, nothing. Plants, small animals, insects were all present, but it felt like a wilderness more than the heart of a sect-controlled territory. There were no mortals around, and no cultivators, unless they had a grandmaster-level veil. She edged around the perimeter of the room, pushing her mortal senses to pick up anything her spiritual scan had missed. Puffs of dust answered each footfall as she made her way through the building. The stone was worn, the mortar crumbling noticeably. Tattered remains of what might have once been tapestries hung from walls by bare threads. She passed by windows that had long since lost any glass or shutters. Moss and lichen grew below, where water had seeped inside.


    This building had been a modest administrative center at the heart of the Tranquil Mountain Sect. Built to control access to the tunnels below, it had been entirely functional, if unimpressive. Now it was a ruin. Each sign of age left Laurel more and more concerned. Just how long had she been trapped underground? She sped up, abandoning any attempts at stealth. Holes that had rotted out of the ceiling revealed upper floors in a similar state. Droppings and animal tracks in the detritus on the ground all confirmed this building had belonged to the wilds for quite some time. She hit the front door at a sprint and burst out into the fresh air.


    The mountainside was in shambles. It was the kind of remote ruin Laurel¡¯s sectmaster would send her to investigate for some lost cultivation art. The sect house that had been a bustling hub of earth cultivators was now a nondescript pile of rocks, tumbled together into a low hill. If she hadn¡¯t seen the original with her own eyes, she might not have realized a building had even stood there at all. The carefully planned gardens were now just part of the same scrubland that covered the rest of the mountain¡¯s lower slopes. Looking further towards the foothills, there was absolutely no sign that a road or mortal village had ever existed in this area. The pit of dread that had been growing in Laurel¡¯s stomach threatened to spill over into panic. The compound had been abandoned for decades, if not longer. Absences of that length weren¡¯t without precedence, but the elders running her sect would never have allowed such a thing with no explanation. Her friends should have scoured this sect after she disappeared. All the revelations of the last hour crashed into her at once. She felt very, very alone.


    The situation was overwhelming, but Laurel had been trained by the world¡¯s best grandmasters and faced down crises on her own for decades. Reacting to a high-risk situation in hostile territory was second-nature at this point. She made a loop of the compound at a jog, noting anything that might be useful for discovering what had happened here. Precious little stuck out. The absence of anything useful was itself the only interesting aspect of the area. No spirit beasts had made their lair in the area, mana flows hadn¡¯t built up any natural treasures. Nothing made sense and the rising frustration was making her sloppy. It was time to take a break.


    She trudged back up to the pile of rocks that had been the sect house and leapt onto the top. The Tranquil Mountain compound had been built in a different tradition than her own. Instead of a central sect house with supporting buildings surrounding it like a web, the main building here had been the highest up the mountain, so anyone looking out could see the entire sect arrayed below.


    Sitting atop the ruins, she settled into a cultivation posture. Eyes closed, back straight, legs crossed, hands loosely placed over knees. Laurel had always been rather orthodox in her cultivation methods. Settling into a slow breathing rhythm, she eased her mind into that state of simultaneous inward focus and wider awareness. The pathways in her own body were a complicated tapestry, refined over decades. Her mana speed was still sluggish from her imprisonment, but she gently encouraged the languidly flowing trickles of mana to speed back up into her usual carefully-controlled torrents. When she felt ready, she reached out with her mind to the ambient mana of the world.


    Her meditation shattered as she staggered to her feet. Stumbling around she took deep gasping breaths, trying to restore her equilibrium without being sick.


    The worst day of her life was apparently not done with surprises. The mana of the world was so thin, calling to it had been like trying to breathe through a stuffed reed. It was impossible. She had never even heard of such a thing! Of course, mana flows were fastest closer to large population centers. But even the most remote wilderness should have something. Laurel had trekked through mana deserts before, areas of the world that felt devoid of that all-encompassing energy. This was worse. And it didn¡¯t make any sense. The Tranquil Mountain had chosen this location to specifically take advantage of the strong mana currents running through the mountains. They had deemed it worth the cost to establish a village from scratch in order to anchor those flows and leverage them to strengthen their sect. As far as Laurel was aware, such things could not change, at least not on time scales that humans had recorded. Maybe the same length of time that saw a mountain range ground to pebbles would see the mana currents of a region shift, but civilization had not yet recorded the process. Had the world ended while she was locked away underground?


    Shaking off the melodrama, Laurel tried to think through what could cause such a thing. Her mind came up blank. She began pacing around her small ledge. A calamity that changed mana currents would account for why the region had been abandoned, and why she awakened alone. But nothing in her realm of experience could cause such a calamity. Grudging respect for whomever had sealed her in the caves below started to rise in her mind. The scripts must have been remarkably efficient to operate in such low ambient mana, but nothing lasts forever without maintenance.


    She was stalling. Trying to cultivate again had about the same appeal as going back into her prison cell below, but it would have to be done. If nothing else, she needed to find the best direction to go in search of people. And some explanations.


    Settling back in, she braced her spirit before letting her senses expand. Instead of connecting her own mana to that of the world, she simply observed. Slowly, the picture of mana in the region was revealed to her. It was like a portrait that had been bleached by sunlight for decades. If she looked very closely, she could make out the features she expected. Wide currents moved through the area at a snail''s pace. Some small eddies were present around plants or animals that might one day develop cores. But it was looking at a dry riverbed and trying to infer an ocean. Attempting to sense the cosmic flows beyond this world only resulted in a splitting headache. She took a final note of the directions mana was flowing fastest before easing out of her meditation, gently this time.


    The sun had set by the time Laurel opened her eyes, and the moonlight bleached the landscape until everything appeared dead and withered. The mana flows gave her a direction, and it was time to find out what had happened to the world, and if any vestiges of humanity remained.


    But first, she concentrated on the rock she was standing on and sent it into her spatial tattoo. Jumping to the next block she repeated the process until the hill was gone. She proceeded to loot the sect compound as thoroughly as she could without examining each artifact. A few stones still had some visible script or a trace of mana. Most of it was trash but it would be easy enough to get rid of later. Even if the cultivators that had imprisoned her were dead and gone, she was not above some petty revenge. Besides, her sect prized knowledge and clearly some of the masters here had been more talented than anyone realized, if they had kept her in stasis through the end of the world.

 Ch 2 - Cross Country Road Trip

    The days following Laurel¡¯s awakening were uneventful. The ambient mana was too thin for sustained movement techniques like flying, so she was forced to run through the wilderness. Scrublands transitioned to prairie which faded into dense forests as she ran east. Every few hours she would stop and meditate for a while to make sure she was still following the strongest mana currents she could find. Each pause ripped away a little more of her hope, spurring her into a faster run when she saw no change. The whole thing would have been boring if not for the underlying dread, increasing the longer she went without any signs of other people.


    The same meditation sessions were bringing her internal cultivation back to acceptable levels after her time in stasis. Her mana was flowing through her channels as fast as she could make it, reinforcing her body and preventing exhaustion from setting in. Connecting to and drawing in the ambient mana, however, was still agonizing. She felt vulnerable, hunted, even without evidence of any predators. External techniques required controlling the ambient mana according to her will. With so little mana around, most of her more potent combat arts would be extremely limited, if not outright useless. She would not be blasting through any obstacles with overwhelming amounts of lightning. If she was honest, this severely limited her repertoire. She hadn¡¯t felt so exposed since she was a teenager venturing into the wilds for the first time to find resources for the sect. Like a novice, she had taken to wearing a short sword and several knives as she ran, though thus far she had been undisturbed by anything bigger than the grouse she had eaten for dinner the previous evening.


    Five days after leaving the compound, Laurel ran into a sight that nearly brought tears to her eyes. Tension dripped from her shoulders and she took what felt like the first deep breath since her imprisonment. Kneeling with her right palm flat on the ground she pressed a small amount of mana into the earth in the traditional cultivator ritual of thanks. A laugh bubbled up and she let it out, startling a bird into flight off a nearby branch.


    A road. A trail really, packed dirt extending northwest to southeast. So rudimentary it would shame her sect were it to be found on their lands. The best thing she had seen in days. Animals and spirit beasts did not build roads. The isolation of her reawakening, and the subsequent lack of settlements had made her more and more convinced that whatever had leached the mana from the world had destroyed humanity as well. But here was proof that civilization still existed. She would find out what happened and then she would make her way back home. If the people of this kingdom had survived then surely her sect would have as well. Her pace was faster and her smile bright as she followed the road.


    She ran through the night and the following morning, without stopping for anything more than strict necessities. Fate rewarded her persistence as she crested a hill to another beautiful sight. A small village surrounded by farmed land was splayed out before her. The pastoral scene would not have been out of place in a painting or tapestry hanging in the sect house. Sunlight glinted off the water of a nearby stream as wheat stalks swayed gently in the breeze. There were dozens of buildings in the village proper. Mostly wooden with dark tile roofs. She could not detect anything in the way of defenses. Neither traditional mortal fortifications nor mana infused enchantments protected the area, but the village might have been small enough that such things were not needed. With such a small village they were likely spared most beast attacks, and certainly wouldn¡¯t face the waves that periodically challenged her own home city. She slowed her pace to a brisk walk. Cultivators showing up at a flat sprint would induce more panic and confusion than Laurel wanted to deal with at the moment. Instead, she would savor the release from the existential terror that had gripped her on and off since waking up.


    Villagers worked the fields, as she expected, while the sound of barking dogs and giggling children floated on the wind. A twinge at the back of Laurel¡¯s mind told her something was off about the scene, but stopping to stare at the people wouldn¡¯t be the best way to gain their trust. Besides, master cultivators did not go around ogling farmers.The clouds shifted slightly and sunlight gleamed off a metal construct in one of the farthest fields. The blocky golem was rolling along with a long barred area in front that appeared to be pulling the wheat underneath it and into some sort of receptacle on the back. Black smoke was puffing out of the top as it seemingly destroyed a fields¡¯ worth of crops. None of the farmers were reacting to the outrage. Laurel watched until she spotted a man and a small boy sitting on the front of the construct. It clicked then and she realized this was some sort of harvesting device. The discovery buoyed her spirits even higher. Not only had civilization survived with a pittance of mana, they had learned some very clever and efficient enchanting techniques, to be using such a device. If this wonder was in use by common mortal farmers, she could hardly wait to see what marvels her sect had developed during her time away. Perhaps whatever cataclysm had struck would now be looked upon as the crucible that finally allowed her sect to ascend to a place as a true power in the wider cosmos.


    No guards challenged her as she strolled into the small village, reinforcing her suspicion of relative safety. The main street was cobbled and flanked by the various shops that such a place always needed. The tell-tale clanging of a smithy echoed from the far end of town. Several small children were drawing in the dirt of one of the side streets and stared at Laurel with wide eyes as she came into view. A wave and a smile from her sent them running. She paused for a moment, but strangers were probably important news in a town like this and the interaction was forgotten as she anticipated finally getting some answers. In the center of the town a tavern dominated one side of a large, open square. It was a handsome building, if rustic, with paned windows and a door painted bright red, propped open to let in the breeze. As Laurel stepped inside she saw a few older men playing a tile game in the corner, with a stern-faced woman behind the bar.


    ¡°Hello!¡± Laurel used her brightest ¡®don¡¯t scare the mortals¡¯ smile, which was admittedly out of practice. ¡°My name is Laurel, and I¡¯ve recently returned to this land from some travels far away. I got lost in the mountains and am trying to figure out exactly where I am. Is there anywhere I might be able to buy a map?¡±


    The barkeeper stared at Laurel. Laurel¡¯s smile grew forced but she refused to let it drop. Glancing around the room the small amount of conversation had stopped. The old men had paused in their game. They looked at Laurel, then at each other, then back at Laurel. The woman tilted her head to the side as if trying to solve a riddle. Finally, the woman responded.


    ¡°...¡± she said.


    Now it was Laurel¡¯s turn to stare around the room in confusion. ¡°I''m sorry, could you repeat that, slower?¡±


    The woman¡¯s eyes narrowed and her hand crept below the bar. Laurel had spent enough time fighting to recognize the signs of someone reaching for a concealed weapon. Concerned by the escalation, Laurel tried again, raising her hands in front of her, palms out, she did her best to enunciate each word ¡°I don¡¯t mean anyone harm, I¡¯m just passing through.¡±


    The other woman barked something at this that Laurel again couldn¡¯t make any sense of. The matron pulled an object out from behind the bar and pointed it at Laurel. It was a long tube reminiscent of a blowgun, but made from metal, with a wooden paddle coming off the back.


    Were it not aimed directly at her from two meters away, Laurel would have been very interested in taking a closer look at the weapon. Presumably an enchantment caused a projectile to come out, maybe one tipped in poison. Tamping down on an instinctive flair of anger, Laurel considered her options. Starting a fight with a weapon pointed directly at her was not ideal, but not impossible either. Everyone in the town was mortal, and being a master cultivator meant she had the overwhelming advantage in speed and reaction time. There was a chance she could disarm the woman before anyone else made a move, but she was less confident in doing so without injuring the bartender. And even if she was able to wrest the weapon away, that left her in a standoff with the mortals.


    With both hands splayed wide in front of her, Laurel eased backwards towards the door. Everyone in the tavern continued to stare, games and drinks forgotten, and the woman behind the bar gestured with her tube indicating Laurel should leave. Once outside Laurel turned and jogged back out of the town the way she came, keeping her spiritual senses focused behind her in case anyone decided to speed her on her way.


    When she reached the forest Laurel ducked off the road. ¡°You idiot! Stuck underground for centuries, you don¡¯t think the language might have changed.¡± She lashed out with a kick at a nearby tree, causing it to shiver and a few leaves to fall to the ground. A cautious approach would have saved her the aggressive interaction but it was too late now. Such a small town would be rife with gossip, and there was no doubt that by tomorrow everyone would have heard about the stranger lurking about. Not to mention the shame of backing down from a group of mortals. If she were not alone and far from home, she would never have allowed that level of disrespect to go unanswered.


    Hidden at the edge of the forest, she settled in to wait and watch. The patterns of life in a village like this had been the same since humans first settled down to start working the land. The people worked their fields until the sun touched the horizon, and then returned to their homes. Faint shrieks of laughter drifted up into the tree Laurel was sitting in as the people began to relax after their day¡¯s labors.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Her vigil continued into the evening and she was barely able to stay focused on the unchanging scene before her. Instead she distracted herself by cataloging everyone in the town. Farmer number one, child number seven, cow number six.


    She perked up when the scene changed. Spots of light marked where villagers were running back and forth to their neighbors, carrying torches or lanterns. Laurel scowled when she realized what the most likely cause for the excitement. Only one event that day that would concern the villagers enough to lose rest over, and it was the sudden arrival of a mysterious stranger. The lights began to congregate by the tavern she had so thoughtlessly wandered into. The small crowd hovered around the town for a while, milling in the central square. No distinct words reached her perch in the forest but Laurel had seen enough. Giving the township a wide berth, she circled around to the road leading further southeast. The town was going to be suspicious of her no matter what; there was nothing to be gained from trying to salvage a relationship with these people. She had the distance to the next village to think of a better approach.


    Navigating by the moonlight, she thought fondly of times when wandering into a town and announcing her name and sect resulted in the mortals falling over themselves to provide anything she asked for.


    Travel was pleasant but dull as Laurel alternated between running down the road and mana cycling. The woods cut away so abruptly before the next town that she almost burst into the fields at a run. Instead she pulled up just within the treeline to take a survey. Nearly identical in layout to the first, she would have almost thought the last few days a dream if not for the difference in the fields. These people had peach orchards as the dominant crop, rather than wheat. The last village¡¯s lesson in caution prevented Laurel from wandering in immediately. A nearby rocky hilltop provided a perfect vantage point from which to observe the town throughout the day.


    From her hidden overlook, Laurel could make out the individual villagers as they went about their day. To alleviate the monotony of sitting and watching the peaches grow, she began to make up stories for them. The man in the straw hat had the heart of a poet, composing verses as he examined the base of each tree in his section of the orchards. The girls hiding amongst the trees, obviously avoiding their own chores, were engaged in a conspiracy to take one of the pies cooling in the tavern windows. The young couple walking out of the town, standing close but conspicuously not holding hands, were in search of a hidden place to while away the afternoon together.


    With a jolt, Laurel realized she was spot on with the last guess. The mortal couple was approaching her hill. Chagrin set in along with a rueful smile. The perfect vantage point for being able to see the town, without being seen in turn, would be well-known among the inhabitants. Since she had time before they arrived, it was a perfect opportunity to practice a skill she¡¯d never had much talent in. If she was going to spend this much time in mortal backwaters she may as well do some training.


    Laurel thought back on Master Ronden, the best light aspect cultivator in her sect¨Cmaybe the world¨C who taught stealth skills to all the initiates. Laurel had struggled with the lessons, and the crotchety master had not hesitated to point that out. Repeatedly. The extreme precision necessary didn¡¯t come naturally to Laurel and she had been young and foolish enough to decide that meant the skills were superfluous. After all, subtlety was only necessary when you couldn¡¯t leverage overwhelming power instead.


    Trying to remember the techniques now, Laurel was thankful her complaints and attempts to skip out on the lessons had been quashed by the masters. True illusions were fiendishly difficult, and more so for vortex cultivators like her, that focused on large scale effects. But it was precisely what the situation demanded in order to move around the village without alerting the mortals. For a true illusion all the details need to be held in place at once, while dynamically changing to appear to interact with the world. Hair needs to move in the breeze, shadows need to shift with the light, and a thousand other small factors that no one thinks of until they aren¡¯t there. Eschewing the precision of such techniques, she had gained her master rank instead by focusing on large-scale workings, honing her willpower to control massive amounts of mana. However if she wanted to continue progressing she would need to master the more subtle aspects of cultivation as well. The end of the world as she knew it would not be an excuse for stagnation.


    She dropped into a light meditative state to focus on the necessary mana weaving. Her goal was not a convincing illusion but rather erasing her own presence. Invisibility involved the difficult process of forcing light to bend around a position. This meant the subject then had no light to see themselves and had to operate with the rest of their physical senses along with their spiritual sight. Certain legendary assassins were rumored to use more extreme versions of the technique to be undetectable, erasing not just visibility, but scent, sound, and spiritual presence as well. Luckily, Laurel did not need anything that advanced. Instead she leveraged one of the easier skills Ronden had taught her. She wove mana so that less light hit the area directly around her, causing a dimming effect. Then she layered her will into the working so that the attention of anyone looking at her would slide away with the light. It still took concentration to maintain and it wouldn¡¯t fool an animal that came sniffing, but it was far easier than a true illusion, and this way she could still see.


    The couple had reached the base of the hill and began to climb by the time Laurel had the technique active. They were maybe 20 years old, and deeply tanned from regularly working in the fields and orchards. The young man had taken the slightly rougher terrain as an excuse to hold the woman¡¯s hand in order to ¡®help¡¯ her up. Laurel grinned and began easing her way down the opposite side of the hill. Moving too fast would draw attention even through her concealment. Ten minutes later, she had traded places with the couple, as she arrived back on level ground while they sat together at the top. The murmurs of their conversation floated down, reminding Laurel of the much more distasteful skill she would be practicing later. She carefully made her way to another viewing point to wait for the sun to set.


    *******


    The rest of the day slipped by in gentle cultivation. The town was big enough that the ambient mana was slightly denser than the desert that was the rest of the countryside. Not enough for most of her usual methods, and still painful to cultivate directly. Instead she focused on refining the mana flows within her own body while keeping her stealth working active.


    Once the sun set behind her perch she came out of her meditation and began inching her way towards the town. The target here was the same as the last village, as she angled for the tavern. Moving along walls and sticking to the long shadows from the occasional lantern, she made it to the center of town without being seen. The tavern was two stories tall, made from deeply stained lumber. The windows glowed from the lamps inside, and the pleasant roar of a packed taproom filled the street. Slipping into the narrow alley behind the building, Laurel found a pipe leading down from a cistern up above. Hesitating only long enough to glance around the alley, she shimmied up the pipe and laid down on the roof. Entirely hidden from sight, she let her working drop. Holding it all day had been mentally exhausting and she would need her full focus for what came next.


    Deep breaths calmed her racing heart, but not the feeling of disgust at what she was about to do. This kind of technique always left her feeling slimy. The masters at her sect had taught her to use it to gather information when she was alone and vulnerable. Laurel was both of those things at the moment, and she didn¡¯t have time to find a friendly area to stop and spend a year learning the language. She was desperate to find out what was going on, some basics about the new political landscape, and then she needed to get back to her sect.


    She sent a silent apology to everyone in the tavern and expanded her senses. Even in a time when every small town had a sect or independent cultivator in residence, the vast majority of mortals had no natural ability to shield their thoughts. As Laurel relaxed her own mental shields, she could feel their consciousnesses brushing against her own. It was then a simple matter to let her own subconscious absorb the surface-level thoughts of those below. Understanding the language would be a side-effect.


    One man was becoming belligerently drunk to drown out the thoughts of his trees flowering later than usual this year. The sturdy man behind the bar was watching this and wondering if he should cut the farmer off, while keeping an eye on two friends in the other corner arguing about where they should pasture some of their animals. Another corner held a group of young adults, reveling in being allowed in the tavern after dark. The whole tapestry of life in this small place played out beneath her. Laurel stole it all. Intimate secrets and irrelevant details seeped into her mind without distinction. An hour after midnight, everyone below stumbled home. Laurel returned to the overlook on the hill to meditate and process everything she¡¯d heard and felt. Finding her mind too clouded to concentrate, she eventually tried sleeping instead.


    Her dreams were filled with harsh accusations and disapproval from indistinct shadowy figures amid hopes for a good harvest. She rose before dawn feeling almost worse than when she went to sleep. Instead of trying to cultivate, or training techniques, Laurel spent the next day escaping the tumult in her own mind by reading some of her favorite stories from the sect library. Traveling with the precious books was the best privilege for being declared a master of the sect. She journeyed with the heroes, raged against the villains, and exulted when they overcame insurmountable obstacles. The familiar cadence calmed her down enough to make peace with her discomfort. By the time night came again Laurel still didn¡¯t feel particularly good about the situation, but she was ready to do what needed to be done.


    The pattern repeated. She skimmed surface thoughts in the evening and meditated or cultivated during the day. When she became overwhelmed she took breaks to explore the local countryside. After the third night, she could make out some of the words she was hearing in the conversations she eavesdropped on. By the fifth, she could follow the thread of a conversation, if not its details. It was at this point she realized the town was officially called, creatively, Northwest Peach Orchard 2. On the sixth day, a man emerged from the forest with a large canvas pack. Flinty-eyed, with the beginnings of a brown beard streaked with gray, he marched directly into the center of the town.


    This was the first traveler Laurel had seen since awakening and beginning her trek, even after days on the local roads. She followed him into town at a distance, with her stealth technique active to avoid attention. He had one of those long weapons the tavern keeper had used to threaten Laurel, slung over his shoulder where she would have expected a bow. He entered the tavern just as Laurel slipped around the corner and settled into a position where she could hear the conversation through the open window.


    ¡°...any strangers?¡± a gruff voice said.


    ¡°Nothing since the early-season traders last month.¡± The tavern keeper responded. Laurel had a sinking feeling she knew exactly where this was going. Her time in Peach Tree was coming to an end.


    ¡°Last week¡­ speaking some nonsense language, carrying a sword. Hilda drove her off but¡­¡± Laurel missed a few of the newcomer¡¯s words, but caught enough to figure out what was going on. He had been sent to warn the locals here about her. Listening to the villagers here had given her a certain fondness for the town, but she knew there was no point in staying. There would be no honor in fighting villagers if they saw her and came to dark conclusions.

 Ch 3 - Exchange Rates

    The kilometers melted away before Laurel¡¯s loping stride and cultivator stamina. The scenery had shifted from sprawling forests with the occasional clearing into rolling plains and open prairie, with a few large copses of trees.That evening the road crossed over a massive river. She took a moment to pause in the center of the bridge and look across the plains. The river was a glimmering band of golds and purples as the sun neared the horizon. Grasses swayed in the breeze and Laurel took the moment to stop and appreciate the land she was traveling through. Memories she had avoided while in survival mode the last few weeks floated to the surface.


    Martin skimming along the surface of a different river, causing a wake to splash the rest of their group relaxing on the shore. Imelda coaxing some of the plants to grow into rude sculptures, while Farin told them all off for their lack of dignity, before he joined in with a laugh. She slowly released her breath.


    Cultivators at their stage didn¡¯t age physically, so there was a chance her friends were fine, even after whatever untold number of years she had been trapped. They may even have left this world to continue their adventures in the wider cosmos. Without her. The bittersweet thought left her feeling very alone as she continued down the road.


    Evidence of large-scale planning for the region came to light as Laurel made her way through the next two towns. Each was about two days of travel down the road from the last, on a roughly straight line from northwest to southeast. Each also had one major crop or good they seemed to produce, for which the towns were named. She explored both in the same patterns established in Northwest Peach Orchard 2. She would stop for a few days, listen in to learn what she could of the language and any other useful information, and then move on. From this she deduced she was in a region known as ¡®the borderlands¡¯, though the border of what, exactly, remained a mystery.


    As she approached where the fifth town should be, if the pattern continued, something pricked at her senses off to the side. Curiosity burning, she slipped into the ditch next to the road and activated her stealth technique. The countryside had returned to a forest, though much younger growth than the forest she¡¯d run through while contemplating the end of the world. Dappled light filtered all the way to the forest floor, and there was less underbrush, easing her way off the road. She used her understanding of air to prevent sounds from carrying away from her as she carefully placed each footstep.


    The mana flows had gotten deeper and more turbulent as she approached the next village. If she was lucky, it would be a true Town, in the old sense, where she might glean some more information about the state of the world from the local cultivators. While the villagers seemed like pleasant folk, they didn¡¯t spend their evenings discussing the kind of large scale history and geography Laurel needed. Those rougher mana flows also attracted monsters, and so she followed her spiritual senses to the swirl. When she arrived, she stood and dropped her stealth working. No spirit beasts had made this area their home. Instead a deep purple flower stood alone in the center of a small glade. As she knelt beside the plant, careful to avoid touching it or breathing too close, she caught the silver glimmer on the edges of the petals.


    A slow smile spread across Laurel¡¯s face. Twilight Breath flowers were an excellent resource for young cultivators. She had fond memories of hunting for such flowers with her friends in their youth. This particular flower would make the mana channels in the body of whoever consumed it more elastic for a period of time, and thus allowing for a day or so of easier cultivation. It was useless at her current level. Laurel sent her senses into the earth and pushed a bit more mana towards the flower before heading back to the road.


    Hours later the forest ended at a sharp line. The monotonous screen of trees was replaced by a large town. Easily big enough to contain a dozen or more of the villages she had passed through the prior weeks. A river almost a kilometer wide formed a natural border on the east, with water wheels peeking out from behind some of the buildings, while barges and other craft floated around the docks. The buildings themselves were made of bricks painted white, with slate-tiled roofs. Throughout, gleaming brass pipes reflected the sunlight, occasionally disgorging steam or smoke, creating a thin haze over certain neighborhoods. Roads identical to the one Laurel had been running down spread out from the town like spokes on a wheel. Or a spider¡¯s web.


    Laurel cataloged all this in the background while her focus was on the spiritual infrastructure. She stopped to take a scan of the Town Core. Any population center this big would have one, and the state of a Core always gave information on the local cultivators. She found nothing at all. The local mana was in turmoil, as though the Core had been left entirely wild. Spirit beasts had been non-existent as she traveled, but eventually some would be attracted by the mana density around so many people. If the town grew to the size of a city they might start manifesting in the streets. Where was everyone? A Town should have at least one small sect or some independent cultivators taking advantage of resources the population generated in exchange for protection. But she would swear there was nothing of the sort here. Not a Town, not even a Village. Just a bunch of mortals that would fall like reaped wheat if a beast wave ever hit.


    Frowning, Laurel¡¯s spiritual senses reached more forcefully towards the town. A gross breach of protocol if there was a local sect, but she needed more information. She felt for any ordered pattern in the mana flows that might indicate an enchantment or natural treasure. Even just a building with some mana-infused materials or artwork would be a welcome surprise. The feelings she got back were fuzzy at best. There certainly weren¡¯t any cultivators.


    Puzzled but ultimately hoping for the best, Laurel made her way into town. Instead of sneaking in to hide on rooftops she simply walked in like a citizen returning from a stroll. This time, she even had enough foresight to store her weapons first. A guard holding one of the long weapons she¡¯d seen on the villagers waved her in from where he was leaning against the closest building.


    It was a town that should have been exactly like dozens of others she had visited through her long life, and in some manners, it was. Every building or industry a group of mortals needed to thrive was represented. There were general goods shops, tailors, potters, smiths, wood crafters, and more. But they were all alien. The smiths had hammers powered by the movement of the river along with other contraptions she had no name for. The tailor was selling fully-made clothes, in so many fabrics and colors no peasant Laurel had ever met could have afforded even a fraction of the items. More impressive than anything else was the section of the general store with shelf after shelf of different books. What was in the past a respectable library for a noble house was now sold with the same cavalier attitude as travel rations and camping gear. When the proprietor saw her stare he came over to offer suggestions.


    ¡°Anything in particular I could help you find?¡± the jolly-looking man asked. His gray beard and wide smile gave the impression of a kindly grandfather, but the glint in his eye clued Laurel into the merchant¡¯s soul underneath.


    Laurel was almost paralyzed with the choices. The founding purpose of her sect was to gather and safeguard knowledge, and here was a treasure trove. Only the slight concern about avoiding attention kept her from clearing out the whole store. Instead she moderated her impulses to only get what she actually needed.


    ¡°Do you have any general history books you might recommend? I¡¯m also looking for some local maps. And if you have a reading primer I¡¯ll take that as well, for my niece.¡± She decided on what might be the most useful to her current state. The last explanation was tacked on to avoid suspicion. Sifting through thoughts could teach the spoken language, but not the written form.


    ¡°Of course, of course!¡± The shopkeeper went from shelf to shelf with unerring precision and drew out three books, then walked to the camping gear area and pulled up a tightly rolled parchment.


    ¡°History of the Laskarian Empire, Marksen¡¯s Reading Primer for Children, and the most recent edition of the Laskar Survey Bureau Official Atlas. I¡¯ll also throw a local map in with that last one since the Borderlands won¡¯t be in the Atlas until the settlement gets big enough for a regional governor,¡± he said with a smile, bustling back to the main counter with her items. ¡°Anything else you need?¡±


    ¡°This should be enough for now,¡± Laurel said, trying to suppress her growing alarm. Her impulse to look at the books was coming back to bite her. She had enough supplies in her spatial tattoo to last her month, or more likely years alone in the wilderness. What she did not have was any local money. The last few weeks had revealed most transactions used some form of currency, direct bartering having fallen out of style. Being reluctant to steal from the villagers meant she was now in a rather awkward position. She mentally skimmed through various personal items that she had in her storage tattoo scrambling for anything that would be of interest to the shopkeeper.


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    ¡°That will be five silver then young lady.¡± The man was smiling still, but Laurel was unsure if haggling was expected, and she did not want to cause a scene.


    ¡°I¡¯m a bit light on silver at the moment, would you consider a trade?¡± Before the man could say anything, she pulled out the glow stone from her prison cell. Most of the taverns and shops she¡¯d seen in her travels were using oil lamps, and she hardly needed a souvenir of the whole ordeal.


    The man looked at Laurel, then at the stone, then back at Laurel. ¡°I¡¯m sorry miss but I can¡¯t take a rock in trade for the books.¡± He spoke the words slowly, as though placating a child. Offensive as it was, she kept her expression a pleasant mask. She could seethe on the inside.


    ¡°My mistake, I don¡¯t think you have these in the Borderlands.¡± Laurel said. Her smile was more a baring of teeth as she felt her annoyance growing at having to explain such basics. Most mortals she had met before had at least heard of enchanted items, even if ownership was limited to the wealthy. ¡°It¡¯s a glow stone. If you tap it twice it will use the ambient mana to function as a light, and then if you tap it three times it will stop glowing.¡±


    The shopkeeper¡¯s grin turned impossibly more condescending, with a touch of pity thrown in. Seeing Laurel was not about to back down, he hesitantly tapped the stone, which started glowing. He leapt back and started shouting.


    ¡°Get that thing out of here! I don¡¯t know what kind of trick this is but we don¡¯t stand for that shit here.¡± He rushed to the door. ¡°Guards! Help, witch! Guards!¡±


    Laurel didn¡¯t understand what was going on, but she wasn¡¯t stupid enough to hang around to find out. The man was still blocking the door so she hopped out the open window and dashed away. Right after she decided there were certain locals she didn¡¯t mind stealing from so much and tucked the books into her spatial storage, along with the glowstone.


    As she sprinted down the road two guards ambled onto the street in front of her on a regular patrol. With cries of ¡°witch¡± still being shouted from the merchant, one of them grabbed the weapon where it was slung across his back and knelt to aim directly at Laurel. She flung a hasty mana shield around her then angled towards the next cross street. Just before she broke the sight line, a loud pop echoed through the street and a searing pain blossomed in her lower abdomen.


    ¡°Fuck¡± she hissed out, feeling the blood as it gushed down her side. Mortal weapons should not be powerful enough to break through cultivator defenses. Even if air mana made a flimsy shield. Running footsteps sounded out from the guards still in pursuit. A thread of mana sealed the wound and she kept running. She could heal it later but she needed to stop leaving a trail a blind man could follow.


    Ducking around as many corners as possible, Laurel eventually found a deserted alley behind a row of shops. With no one in sight, she stripped out of her blood-soaked clothing and pulled on the closest she had to what the locals wore.


    ¡°What the fuck just happened?¡± she muttered to herself. She pulled her sharpest knife out of storage and sliced her hair to be shoulder-length from where it had hung down to the middle of her back. Once she¡¯d changed her appearance as much as she was able in such a short time, she sauntered out of the other end of the alley as though she had no worries in the world. Luckily brown hair and eyes made it easy enough to blend in with the locals.


    Her wound ached with every step. A continuous stream of mana was keeping anything from getting worse but she would need focus to fully heal the wound. And soon. She toyed with the idea of just leaving this horrible town behind. Laurel was hardly inclined to hang around a group of people actively hostile towards her. But she wanted more information. It was becoming ridiculous that she apparently couldn¡¯t interact with a mortal in this age without leading to violence.


    Her flight had taken her to the more trade-focused part of the town. Large metal constructs belched steam around her. Inside the buildings she heard the clanking of undetermined industry. Peeking inside one window she saw men and women assembling something the workers called an engine. Each person appeared to be working on a separate task to build the whole unit. The next building down housed a loom built to the proportions of a giant, and the one after that was less noisy, the workers treating large canvas sheets with tar. Throughout all of it, Laurel couldn¡¯t feel even a twinge of mana in use beyond her own. She belatedly realized the constructs the farmers had been using to harvest must have functioned without mana as well. For quite violent people, these Laskarians were more accomplished in mortal fabrication than any group Laurel had ever seen.


    Was the shopkeeper¡¯s reaction just an individual¡¯s absurd prejudice or a sign of a greater trend? That could explain the lack of a sect to maintain the town¡¯s core. Maybe the people in this town were here because they¡¯d wanted to find somewhere without any cultivators, as foolish and shortsighted as that would be. Formidable as they were, the new mortal weapons would not be fearsome enough to destroy some of the advanced beasts that would challenge a population of this size. Laurel loitered in the industrial district until the workers left for the day, meditating in a mostly-hidden side street to speed up the healing her body was naturally doing on her wound. Her weeks of skulking around the local villages meant dropping into her attention-diverting mana working was as easy as slipping into a new breathing pattern.


    Keeping enough distance to avoid suspicion, she followed the laborers when they left for the day. Large groups were stopping to eat and drink in local taverns before heading home. Easing into the shadows next to one such building, she reached out and prodded some of the ambient mana, leveraging her own air attunement to carry words to her more clearly. It was easier than diverting attention, and had served her well in an ill-spent youth.


    ¡°This month¡¯s news sheet came in yesterday from the provincial capital.¡± Laurel seized on the chance to learn more about the world beyond the sparsely populated area she had been traveling through.


    ¡°Anything interesting?¡±


    ¡°Nah, same as usual, but apparently there are rumors coming in from Laskar City that the Meristans are declaring themselves open to magic, officially.¡±


    ¡°Pfft. Please don¡¯t tell me you actually think magic is real. No one can make firebolts fly through the air with their mind.¡±


    Laurel was so stunned by this expression of ignorance that she almost missed what came next.


    ¡°If it wasn¡¯t real, the Governor¡¯s Council wouldn¡¯t have outlawed it. And now those perverts in Merista are letting that kind of unnatural monster roam free. Contrary bastards.¡± The disgusting sound of someone spitting accompanied this last declaration.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t really matter for us out here does it?¡±


    ¡°Well, no. But it will if the rumors turn into a real war.¡±


    ¡°Listen boy, the empire¡¯s been rumored to be about to go to war with Merista, or Garinth or the Western Nomads for the last 30 years, and it hasn¡¯t happened. Don¡¯t pay too much mind to rumors from half a world away.¡±


    Laurel listened for another few minutes, but nothing else was important enough to linger over. Back in the industrial district, a sheltered rooftop provided a safe place to meditate. She was panting by the time she made it up, her side still aching, though thankfully the wound hadn¡¯t split back open. She didn¡¯t dare sleep, and spent the night contemplating what she heard. Somehow, this country had outlawed cultivation. Or at least the Borderlands had. Even more astounding, it must have worked, given the lack of any evidence of conscious mana manipulation in the entire region. That kind of zealotry would inevitably lead to tragedy for this barely-tamed corner of the world. These people were setting themselves up for destruction when their towns started drawing spirit beasts.


    That realization had her feeling trapped in her own skin. She had delayed too long in returning to her sect. Gathering information was all well and good but if this kind of attitude was allowed to spread, nothing good could follow. The sect elders would already have a plan, they had dealt with such short-sighted rulers before.


    The next dawn was hidden behind a drizzling mist. Laurel used a burst of mana manipulation imbued with her will and air attunement to keep it from soaking her through as she set out along the eastward road. She walked until the town was no longer in view, keeping her senses spread out behind her in case the merchant had managed to form a mob to seek out any lone strangers. With a thought, she pulled a necklace from her spatial tattoo. It was a gray rock suspended on a black leather cord, nondescript except for the faintest rune etched on the surface. As she held the stone flat on her palm and sent some mana to it, the rune blurred and morphed until it became a faint arrow pointing northeast. Every acolyte of the Eternal Archive was required to make one of the beacons before they were allowed to complete missions for the sect. Attuned to the Legacy Stone, it would always point the way home.


    *********


    The landscape faded between forests and plains as Laurel continued her journey. As she moved further east, the land became more tamed. There were villages much closer together than the first ones she had run into, along with another two larger towns, bordering on Cities in population, if not in Core cultivation. Her resentment for the Laskarian Empire continued to build every time she was forced to slow from her normal pace and walk as though she were still a mortal. Worse, she learned that the fuzzy feeling from her senses in the first town was due to a preponderance of lead in all the metal constructs the mortals had created. The mana blocking property was lessened by the dilution of the metal in various alloys, but the headache it left her with when she tried to use her senses through the wrong walls almost had her swearing vengeance on the entire country.


    In each town she passed, she listened for news and gossip. A picture of the modern world slowly pieced together from a hundred disparate rumors. Laurel didn¡¯t like what she saw. Magic ¨C which was apparently the modern term for cultivation and all forms of mana manipulation ¨C was officially illegal in the Empire. But it had only been a noticeable presence in the world for a few generations. As she¡¯d seen in the first town, some people believed it to be entirely fake, or even a conspiracy from their enemies to hide technological advancements.


    People had survived, even flourished, with less than the bare minimum of mana, but the world had been remade in the process. Laurel continued to check at each settlement, but she¡¯d seen no evidence of cultivators acting in secret. The City Cores were uncultivated, and the ambient mana around the population centers was entirely out of control.


    Another layer of lofty morals drifted away as she began taking a few coins here and there from various merchants or well-dressed citizens she encountered. Shame boiled beneath her skin any time she let her hand slip into a pocket or lock-box. Stealing from mortals was beneath her. But it seemed when she had no other choice, dignity was easily spent. There was very little bartering in any of the towns she stopped in, and she was worried about bringing out anything either too exotic, or overtly magical to trade.


    Tensions with a country called Merista were on the rise, or had always been high, or maybe were actually lessening. Rumors varied. No matter the actual situation, to Laurel the foreign country represented hope that the entire world hadn¡¯t gone insane. The Empire was currently focused on consolidating the borderlands as a new province, and was providing incentives for their citizens to settle in one of the farming towns she had passed through.

 Ch 4 - Coming Home

    Months after waking to a world that had moved on, Laurel was once more camped alone on the side of a mountain.The journey home had brought her back into untamed wilderness. Her beacon stone glowed bright enough to add a pleasant contrast to the banked embers of her evening fire. The Citadel of the Eternal Archive was in the valley on the other side of the mountain.


    Chittering of insects and small creatures scurrying through the brush mixed with the rasps of Laurel¡¯s meditative breathing patterns. She was entirely focused on her internal cultivation. She was not thinking about the lack of any security formations in the surrounding area. She was not thinking about how no one had come out with a greeting or a challenge. And she was very pointedly not thinking about what her own spiritual senses were telling her about the population, or lack thereof, in the surrounding area. Instead she simply focused on her breathing. The truth would come with the sunrise.


    ********


    With no more excuses to delay, Laurel rose and began the last leg of the journey. Only discipline honed over decades kept her from slowing her steps or turning back as she approached what was once the main entrance to the valley housing her sect. After all, if she didn¡¯t see anything to the contrary then she could go on believing her sect still flourished.


    Cresting the final rise, Laurel set her jaw and cycled the mana through her body in an attempt to remain calm. It was useless. She looked out over what was once a city of almost a million mortals, and hundreds of cultivators. It was a ruin.


    Nature had reclaimed most of the buildings, leaving crumbling piles of stone in place of delicate architecture and flourishing culture. Walls that stood for centuries against beast waves, enemy cultivators, and mortal armies had been conquered by the slow creep of moss and vines. The sect compound in the distance fared slightly better, in that she could tell it had once been actual buildings. It was still abandoned, and had been that way for a very long time.


    Laurel stumbled forward in a daze. She could barely breathe through the pain, but if she stopped here she would never get any closer. As she clambered over the uneven ground her mind raced for any explanation. Her sect and the rest of the city was long gone, but they could have moved and set up elsewhere. Maybe whatever had changed the mana flows was restricted to this continent, or made just this area worse for cultivators. If that was the case the elders could have transplanted the sect somewhere more hospitable. Clinging to thin strands of hope, she forged ahead.


    Reconciling the vibrant city and bustling sect compound she had left ¨C from her perspective just a few months ago ¨C with the barren heap in front of her was jarring. She could overlay intricately carved inner walls with the ring of rubble surrounding the ruins. The piles of rocks and half-standing walls were the kitchens and workshops, sleeping quarters and sparring rooms for sect initiates.


    Her body carried her past it all with little input from her, until she found herself at the former site of the sect house. The largest building in the City, having housed sect administration, treasure vaults, and of course the Library; it was in the best condition. In the way a rotting corpse could be called a better condition than a skeleton. Still worn down from an eon of abandonment and neglect, and all the roofs had fallen in, but a stranger would at least be confident it had once been a grand building.


    Clouds rumbled overhead as Laurel made her way towards the heart of the former sect house. Apprehension almost choked her as she got closer and closer to the center of the building. All masters of the sect were taught protocols for if the unthinkable happened. If the sect was truly threatened, one of the elders would record as much information as possible and store the memories in a sealed chamber for any returning members to find. Laurel had been trained in the protocol just like the others, but never once had she imagined she would be following those instructions. How could she? The Eternal Archive was the strongest group of cultivators in the world. They could have fended off an entire army without too much of an effort. Initiate vortex cultivators cut their teeth defending the wall during beast waves. The grandmasters could bend the world to their will. Nothing could stand against them. So distracted, she walked by the sealed room twice before finding the correct section of the wall.


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    Remarkably, the seal was still in place, much like the seal on her own prison. Closed mana systems had survived when other infrastructure crumbled. And of course the greatest scriptors in the greatest sect crafted this seal to be impervious to any method of breaking in. The end of the world as they knew it wasn¡¯t enough to break that kind of lock. She connected her own mana into the stone surrounding the room to prove her identity. With a grinding that was startlingly loud in the tomb-like quiet of the ruined sect house, the stone blocking the door unsealed from the surrounding wall and slid aside.


    Inside was a table and single chair, on top of which was a sheet of crystal slightly bigger than her hand. The memory tablet would hold answers. She needed to see what it contained. But Laurel continued to stare without picking it up. For now, the sect was thriving somewhere in the world after some sort of strange event changed the mana character of the region. Unfortunate but not the worst fate. Her friends were alive, and would have become grandmasters by now, maybe even off exploring other worlds. Until she viewed the memory, there was every reason to believe that nothing terrible had happened to the people she loved. She dropped into a light meditation to calm her thoughts. As ready as she could be, she reached her mana out to the tablet and sank into the memory.


    **********


    The voice of Grandmaster Florin resounded in Laurel¡¯s head.


    ¡°I hope someone hears this, but I suspect those sect members currently away from home are dealing with their own crises. I can only hope anyone makes it back.


    ¡°One week ago, we began seeing severe fluctuations in the cosmic mana flows connected to the planet. At the time we did not know what caused this, but we now suspect some sort of large-scale formation built for the purpose. Since then we have lost contact with almost all of our members currently away from the sect, and we can no longer sense or reach out into the wider universe. The teleportation network has gone inert, and the mana characteristic of the whole mountain range has been oscillating wildly between a mana desert, and a well with so much mana density it is poisonous to mortals. If an old man can be forgiven for rambling, it''s like the death throes of a wild animal. Communication with other sects has been intermittent, but everyone we¡¯ve been able to contact has found similar events. As I record this, local mana density has dropped precipitously, and we can no longer maintain most of the sect functions.


    ¡°The City Core is failing. With the connection to the cosmic flows gone, it appears to be dissipating. We¡¯ve cut off most of the connections to prevent worse degradation, but it is likely too late. The mortals realize something is wrong, but we can¡¯t reassure them without ourselves knowing the cause, or the solution. If there is a solution.


    ¡°Someone either caused this to happen directly, or had enough forewarning to come prepared. Today the sect compound was attacked. The attackers wear no symbols or identification, but they were prepared to face cultivators without access to normal resources. Some sort of soporific poison has filled the air and it has almost completely incapacitated anyone below a master rank, and left the rest of us sluggish. Even cycling enough mana to purify the air in our lungs is difficult. The elders are trying to hold the attackers off, but our techniques are unreliable with the access to mana so restricted. The enemies are using sinks as sacrifices to absorb the attacks and responding with mortal weaponry. I have sealed off the library and the emergency vaults before leaving this tablet. I will return to the fighting after I finish here. We are dangerously unprepared for this threat, and I don¡¯t believe I will have time to return with more information. Every evacuation protocol and last-ditch effort is being put into effect. Today may be the last day of the Eternal Archive.


    ¡°If any members return and hear this,please take what remains and rebuild. Whatever is blocking our connection to the greater cosmos must fight against the nature of reality itself. No such formation can be maintained forever, and the backlash when it finally falls apart will be severe. If the Citadel¡¯s Core had fully evolved and established a World Capital, this interference would not have been possible at all. Find a new Core, establish a World Capital and anchor it to the celestial mana flows, then our sect will never face such devastation again. Good luck.¡±


    *******


    Laurel came back to herself with tears spilling freely down her cheeks. Memories stored in tablets were more than words and images. The feelings and impressions of those recording them were imparted to the viewer. Grandmaster Florin had been steeped in despair, fully believing he was going to his death and the end of the sect. The state of the city around her and the fact that the memory tablet was still here, and had not been added to, lent credence to that belief. It was not only possible, but likely, that Laurel was the only member left alive.


    She let the tears fall. Heaving sobs wracked her body. There was no one left. She wept for all the people that had been her family. Martin, Faren, Imelda, they had been her constant companions and were now gone. The masters who had taught her cultivation and the new initiates that had started looking to her for wisdom had been erased. No, not just erased, murdered. She fell asleep curled up in the corner of the hidden room. Nightmares came, vague forms of sect members trying to escape, and being cut down while they ran, faceless enemies watching from afar.

 Ch 5 - Lone Survivor

    It was past midday when Laurel finally woke up and forced down some of the dried trail rations she had in storage. She stared blankly at the wall while she ate as slowly as possible. Once she finished it would be time to act. For the first time in ages, she was dreading the next adventure. Laurel had grown up hoping that one day she would become an elder of the sect, helping to guide newer members and cultivating the City Core before eventually leaving to explore the cosmos. When she became an adept, that future transitioned from a vague idea into a true goal. However she was supposed to have centuries more experience before it became even a possibility. Lifetimes in which to forge her path and develop the necessary perspective. Now she was the de facto sectmaster, albeit for a sect of one. Frightening as it may be, her duty was clear. She would find somewhere to re-establish the sect and rise from these ashes. And she would make sure nothing like this could ever happen again.


    Grand declarations aside, she had no idea what that would actually entail. She began aimlessly wandering around the sect house while attempting to build a preliminary list. In preparation she pulled out the handwritten book containing her copy of the founding of the sect. Reading while wandering empty halls, she reacquainted herself with the story and turned it into a set of instructions.


    Somewhere she could grow a City Core from its creation, so there would need to be some mortals but not too many. Plenty of room to grow, with land for both the sect and the mortals as she carefully brought up the population. Not under control by cultivators already, or having heavy government presence. She was just one person, she couldn¡¯t eliminate an entire sect and stave off retribution on her own. A compound with enough room for cultivating, martial practice, crafting and any other services. One that was highly defensible for a sect that was going to consist of her and any initiates she could convince to join. Cultivation resources to strengthen and stabilize the city core and the sect members. All of this ignoring the largest problem, sects need people. Somehow, Laurel would need to find a way to recruit students, from a population that seemed at best distrustful of cultivation, and at worst outright hostile. Feeling more confident having specific goals to work towards, as vague as they were, she looked up to find herself staring at another blank stone wall.


    Glancing around she found she had instinctively wandered to the heart of the sect. Where now there was an expanse of blank stone, had in the past been the deceptively modest entrance to the Grand Library. Some sects were built around crafting or martial talent. Others around artistic endeavors or a particular state of mind. The Eternal Archive had been founded on the principles of collecting knowledge. Even Laurel and her team, despite being trained for combat, spent most of their time seeking out new ideas or hidden secrets and bringing it back to the sect. As such, the Library was the beating heart of the sect, containing the combined effort of a thousand years of cultivators. Once more, Laurel reached out and pressed her own mana into the wall, guiding it to the unlocking mechanism that would recognize a ranking member of the sect. The subtle weave of space-attuned mana pulsed in recognition. The blank wall slid open and the room behind was re-anchored to the physical world.


    As she stepped inside, some of the tension released from her shoulders. At least the heart of the sect had survived. Walking into the library was like stepping back in time. The devastation of the city above had not been able to touch this place. Glow stones came to life in recessed sconces, cleverly placed mirrors reflecting light throughout the stacks. The center of the room was a mass of shadows where the suspension enchantments had broken when the room was sealed, no longer anchored in local space. Laurel trailed her fingers along the spines of the books as she moved deeper. Past the public collections, the legends, treatises on crafting, philosophy, poetry, she moved on until she reached the true heart of the sect¡¯s power. The spirit tablets containing cultivation methods and techniques, meditations on the nature of mana, alchemical processes, and martial arts were none the worse for being suspended in an extra-planar space for some undetermined number of years. And in its scripted case, the Legacy Stone glowed as it always had, waiting for the next sect member to earn the right to examine its stored wisdom.


    Laurel reached out and placed her hand on the faceted sapphire of crystalized mana. It winked out of existence as she placed it in her own spatial tattoo. She spun in a circle and grimaced at the sea of shelves. The collections had been the pride of the Eternal Archive. It would take her ages to tap each item and send it into storage. But this was no longer the home of her sect and she would not leave anything to be lost to time.


    She went to work. Methodically tapping each tablet, book, scroll, enchanted object, woven knotwork, or preserved plant, she would empty a shelf. Then the shelf itself went into storage as well. There was hardly any point in abandoning it when she could bring it with her just as easily, and she would need some storage when she found a location to set up a new library. She spent hours in a feverish intensity. When she was unable to stomach any more, she collapsed onto one of the couches, holding an old tome of fairy tales. She lost herself for a few hours in the stories she¡¯d grown up with.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    When every single piece of the collection was in storage she took another look around the now empty library. The side rooms with more specialized collections had taken another few hours to work through but she cleared those as well, along with the storage stacks below the main floor. She next started on the glow stones, the furniture placed for relaxing reading or study, the mirrors used to spread out light, wall hangings, everything that was not fixed in place. Another full day and most of the night had passed while Laurel was busy looting her own sect.


    She emerged from the now empty warren of rooms and nooks into the damp ruins of the compound. Heaving a sigh she walked towards the first of the spatial vaults. Sealed away when the sect was under threat, they should still be accessible. Spatial attunements had been popular among the masters of the sect and a major source of pride. It allowed them to craft defensive measures like the ones that sealed off the library, or enchantments like her storage tattoo. But it made gathering up stored treasures tedious.


    *******


    ¡°Son of a whore!¡± Laurel jumped away from the fire blasting out of the aperture she¡¯d attempted to open. Trapping spatial vaults was strictly against sect policy. ¡°Miserly bastard.¡± Cromwen apparently thought if he couldn¡¯t use his treasures, no one could.


    The first vault she successfully opened was filled with cultivation resources. The one after that had alchemical potions. Laurel collected dried herbs, raw ore, crafted items, jewels, gold, all the wealth of a once-thriving sect. Financing a new sect compound would be well within her means. It was a small source of solace but she would take what she could get at this point. Hours of searching later, she had found a few of the sect elders¡¯ personal vaults, which she cleaned out after a silent thanks for their contribution. More days slid by as she searched out all the hidden secrets of her sectmates. Focusing on preserving as much of the legacy as possible made it easier to ignore the crushing loneliness. Some of the vaults were harder to access than others, requiring meticulous control to undo the locks, or with entrances hidden in collapsed underground chambers. Only a few more of the sealed areas destroyed themselves when she tried to gain access. Walking the paths of the compound in order to strip it down felt like the deepest violation, picking over a corpse that had already been ravaged by attackers and time.


    When there was nothing of value left to pick up Laurel started on the buildings themselves. Mana reinforced stone would always be worth something, and she didn¡¯t want to leave anything behind for other scavengers. Another few days were spent breaking the stones into pieces and storing them. She drew the line at digging out the foundations. If she was an earth attuned cultivator she would have been able to do it easily. If Martin was here he likely would have ripped everything out without breaking a sweat, and then start tossing it around to show off.


    Laurel surveyed the area from the nearby mountainside for the final time. The city looked much the same as it had when she arrived. She had spent a couple of days fruitlessly searching for anything worth salvaging, but without mana reinforced materials, anything useful had been worn down by the elements or rotted away long ago. The sect compound itself was entirely unrecognizable. Stripped to the bones, it was just a collection of holes in the ground. Seeing it flared the pain of loss, but it was necessary. She silently swore that the legacy of this place and these people would not be forgotten.


    In between breaking down the sect buildings for parts, she had studied the books stolen from the violent merchant in Gorton. According to the atlas, Laskar¡¯s population was concentrated to the south and east. She would head that way, stopping in the first area that would support a sect to get started. She had centuries of lost time to make up for.


    The sun rose high enough above the mountains to shine down on the remains of the city. Laurel looked at the crude runes she had carved into the boulder and nodded in satisfaction. She took a deep breath, the words should always be said aloud, even if there was no one else to hear them.


    ¡°For the people of the Eternal Archive and the mortals they were sworn to protect, may your souls go in peace to the next realm.¡±


    She bowed in the direction of the city and then released the working she spent the morning crafting. The ambient mana was pitifully weak, but it was just enough to maintain the basic boundary field she had carved into a ring of stones around the valley. Any mortals that approached would have the urge to bypass the area or turn back. Minimal protection, but she hoped to leave her sect mates¡¯ resting place in relative peace.


    **********


    As a surprising side effect of all the running she¡¯d been forced into without movement techniques, Laurel was finding it easier and easier to cultivate while moving. In the past she had been more inclined to traditional meditation, but the repetitive nature of trekking through the countryside helped her slip into enough of a semi-focused state to circulate her mana while performing other actions. She was even able to spread her spiritual senses out while doing so. Spending so much time attuned to both her internal mana and the ambient mana of the world lead to a startling realization on her way to the more populated areas of the Empire. The ambient mana level was increasing. It was slow, like a bucket filling up one drip at a time. But the change was there. Laurel dared to hope.

 Ch 6 - New In Town

    The eastern provinces of the empire had been settled far longer than the Borderlands where Laurel had woken up. The population in these more northern areas was still sparse, but the evidence of long years working the land was clear in every tiny farming community Laurel ran through. This area might not have many people, but it was tamed. With her spiritual senses extended, Laurel knew she was about to enter another of the lead-lined rural towns she¡¯d become accustomed to. She had spent a day in the woods outside the town trying to come up with a plan. All she had managed to scrape together was ¡®book a room at an inn and wait for inspiration to strike¡¯. The legends of her sect¡¯s founding had been more about fighting overwhelming odds for a beautiful dream, and were thus light on logistics advice for a fledgling sectmaster.


    She rounded the town and entered from the south road. The wide highway was arrow-straight and perfectly level as far as Laurel could see. If she set aside her resentment, that in and of itself would be an impressive achievement for mortals. The town was notable only for how clearly it resembled the other towns she¡¯d seen in recent months. It hadn¡¯t been noticeable at first but once Laurel recognized the pattern it was impossible to see anything else. The taverns and inns were in the same place, industrial areas and smiths in one sector, shops in another, housing in yet another area. It was an impressive scale of foresight and planning. Laurel couldn¡¯t decide if she found it ominous or not.


    A slightly deeper scan as she entered the town proper confirmed what she had already known. There was a Core present, but no one had cultivated it yet. The ambient mana was still anemic, but slightly less sluggish than the surrounding countryside, driven to movement by the small population. It would do. There was only one of her, a larger city would stretch her little sect¡¯s abilities to manage the local mana. The population here was large enough to support a Town once she got the Core to the appropriate level. They could grow to a City after that when the sect had the resources and the manpower to defend it.


    The town was remote enough that there was only one large inn, mostly for the intermittent traders that came this far north with essential supplies. Sparse enough custom to give Laurel a room without too many questions on her obvious lack of supplies or goods. The routine she established was a study in boredom. Her lesson on overt uses of cultivation had been well-learned, but it meant there was little for her to do. Even she had her limits for quiet meditation. Training with her sword would be unusual. Pulling books or other entertainment out of nowhere would probably cause a riot. The best thing about the place was the stray dogs and cats. They were always up for a little game in exchange for a scrap of food. But even that was limited if she didn¡¯t want to end up the village freak.


    Laurel spent her days wandering around town, exploring the area and listening to conversations, and evenings in the taprooms doing the same. People here were the same as people everywhere, most of their conversations surrounding that days¡¯ chores or nearby gossip.


    Eating lunch in the industrial area of town, she finally got lucky.


    ¡°The Rashan homestead is getting worse. I heard Caron talking about the number of voles coming into his fields. Thinks there¡¯s a colony now that the old man¡¯s gone.¡±


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    ¡°The son never showed up then?¡±


    ¡°Nope. Seems the boy¡¯s married and settled down south. Not interested in bringing the family up here for a farm mostly gone fallow.¡±


    Laurel interrupted the men. This was the first lead she¡¯d gotten and she was out of patience. ¡°Excuse me, are you talking about a farm that might be up for new ownership?¡±


    The men started at the outburst and turned to Laurel. ¡°Aye and what¡¯s it to you young lady?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m new to town, looking for somewhere to set down some roots. A farm would be perfect.¡±


    The older man looked Laurel up and down and she had to remind herself she couldn¡¯t slap him around for the impertinence.


    ¡°All alone? It''s a big property for a new farmer. Rashan couldn¡¯t work more than a garden before he passed¡±


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t you worry. I¡¯m a bit more experienced than I look.¡± A few more back and forths and Laurel set out to find the mayor¡¯s office and inquire about the farm.


    *********


    ¡°One thousand silver. And that¡¯s already extremely discounted because of the state of the property. Old man Rashan let things go when he couldn¡¯t keep up anymore. No haggling, no trade.¡±


    The man had introduced himself as Mayor Lister when Laurel arrived at the nondescript building serving as both the mayor¡¯s residence and central administration building for Perin. The main room was mostly storage, lined with stacks of drawers, with a single woman reading through a stack of forms. The same woman had called down the mayor when Laurel announced she was there to ask after the empty farm.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have that much on me. But I¡¯ll be able to pay within a few years.¡± Laurel had picked up some silver from oblivious mortals on her way north after the first town. But not nearly enough to buy the farm outright. And she didn¡¯t think they¡¯d accept the currency from the kingdom her sect had been part of. As far as she had determined no one even remembered that kingdom had existed. It rankled. They should be throwing themselves at her feet and begging her to settle down here.


    ¡°Look, if I let you buy the farm on credit then the rest of the landholders around here will start demanding the same thing.¡±


    Laurel ignored the slight to her own honor. This man was unaware of the weight a cultivator put behind their word. ¡°Letting the property stay as it is has already started harming the community. Pests have been traveling to the other local farms. Let me stay and I¡¯ll pay off the amount in three years, and fix the place up. If I don¡¯t then the land will be in a better state for the next person.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard the same offer about half a dozen times since the old man died. Everyone is so sure they can make it work if I just let them move in without paying. If I was going to let anyone buy on credit it would be one of the people I¡¯ve known for years, not a stranger with an attitude.¡±


    Laurel barely stopped from running her hands through her hair in frustration. ¡°How about this: are there any big problems giving the town issues? A pack of feral wolves or something? I can take care of it and in return, all I¡¯ll ask is that you accept items of equivalent value for the land.¡± She was loath to give away sect treasures but there wasn¡¯t much else she could do unless she wanted to be alone in the wilderness. Figuring out how to build a house was not part of the plan.


    The mayor didn¡¯t say no right away. Instead he stood up and poured two measures of brown liquor from a decanter on a side table. He passed a cloudy glass over to Laurel and sat back down. ¡°How confident are you, truly?¡±


    ¡°I can handle whatever it is that has you considering,¡± Laurel said in response.


    ¡°I know I said you¡¯re a stranger, but I don¡¯t want sending a young woman to her death on my conscience. If you¡¯re serious, we¡¯ve had some rumors of missing livestock on the farms east of the river. If you can figure it out, I¡¯ll take you up on the offer.¡±


    Laurel toasted the man and downed the alcohol. ¡°Get that deed ready then, I¡¯ll be back in a week.¡±

 Ch 7 - Ace Detective

    Laurel wandered the eastern farmlands with an optimistic stride. She was hoping for a pack of reaver wolves. Maybe a lynx that had formed a core or a roc flying down from the mountains. No need to be picky. She had been forced to accept the destruction of her sect with no hope for vengeance. As much as she could, she had tried to pour the rage at her own impotence into finding a new location to rebuild. But that could do so much. Waiting around to buy a farm lacked any real sense of satisfaction. A fight where she could let loose a bit was exactly what she needed.


    The landscape wasn¡¯t anything different than the rest of town. A sturdy stone bridge spanned the water, worn smooth by generations of farmers trudging back and forth. The mayor had provided a list of farms that had lost animals, and a crude map to lead her there. Laurel made her way to the furthest one and began poking around.


    ¡°Hey! What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡±


    Laurel leaned back from where she had been watching a baby goat wander around its pen. It was far more adorable than the angry woman storming towards her from the farmhouse.


    ¡°I¡¯m Laurel Stormblade. The mayor asked me to look into the missing animals.¡±


    ¡°Well that kid¡¯s not missing is it?¡± With hands on hips the woman looked ready to fight her for the goat.


    ¡°No it''s not. Want to tell me what happened?¡±


    ¡°Not much to tell. About a week ago eight goats went out. Seven came back. Could see where it got dragged towards the woods but not much else. My man Gant tried tracking it with our hound but they lost it after crossing the river upstream a ways.¡±


    ¡°Would you be willing to show me?¡±


    ¡°Show yourself. Pasture about a kilometer in that direction.¡±


    Nothing more was forthcoming so Laurel decided it was best to take what she could get. She walked off in the direction indicated, keenly aware of the farmwife¡¯s eyes drilling into her back as she left. A week was far too long to expect any clues to remain. Laurel was no tracking expert anyway. Her plan at this point was to move in the right direction and hope something stood out to her spiritual senses. At least the lack of blood or violence at the scene meant it was something smart, and not a passing wolf or something else it would be impossible to confirm.


    She came upon the pasture moments later. A gray-furred working dog set up a low growl as she approached. A quick detour and then she was plodding off even further through the fields in a straight line towards the woods, until she came to the narrower part of the river. Laurel took a moment to pause but there was no indication of a frequent crossing, no bridge or stones set up. The ambient mana was ever so slightly increasing, but not enough for flying or running across water. Which meant she was down to her own reinforced body. Nothing much for it, she backed up a few meters. Then with a running start she cycled mana into her legs and launched herself the dozen meters across the river.


    From there she sauntered into the forest unconcerned with what she would find. She was a match for anything in the wilds, except for perhaps a grandmaster level spirit beast or a full-grown dragon. And neither of those would be stealing goats from peasants for food. The woods were alive as she explored. Birds and insects set a gentle backdrop to the hike. Laurel¡¯s spiritual senses were spread as far as she could manage with so little mana to work with. She got mostly vague impressions in return, nothing like the clarity she wanted. Something grabbed her attention a half dozen kilometers to the north. With nothing else to go on she redirected to aim for the area.


    *******


    As a bandit camp it was pathetic. A basic firepit, some well-worn gear, and something that could charitably be described as a lean-to. Most importantly, the bones and hide of a goat, inexpertly carved off to the side. There was no one around and Laurel very nearly left again to track them down. But tracking mortals through unknown territory was neither pleasant, nor a strong suit of hers. That had always been left to Farin, leaving Laurel to follow along and jump in for the fun parts. Insead she settled in to wait, pulling a book out of storage to pass the time. They would return soon enough and she could drag them to the mayor, or just end them here if they put up a fight.


    The sun had set by the time they came back, crashing through without a care for stealth. The bandits of this day and age were barely an echo from those she was familiar with. She didn¡¯t bother getting up from where she was lounging against one of the trees.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    A young man entered the clearing. He was broad, and tall, but still with the awkward proportions that meant he wasn¡¯t finished growing. There was an ax strapped to his back but nothing else of quality that she could see. Probably intimidating for the stray traveler, but Laurel was old and experienced enough to note the bulk was that of hard labor and not a life of combat. The lack of grace as he stumbled through the dark campsite in an attempt to light a fire was a big clue as well.


    The tinder finally sparked alight, the man feeding a few pieces of wood to turn it into a decent campfire. That was her cue.


    ¡°Hello.¡±


    ¡°Ahhh!¡± The man screamed, threw a knife and fell on his ass.


    Laurel didn¡¯t bother moving, the knife having gone wide by two full meters. She watched as the man scuttled backwards on his hands like a pathetic crab. He took a breath to scream again and Laurel cut him off to spare herself.


    ¡°No more of that. Tell me where your accomplices are.¡±


    ¡°What, who are you, what is this?¡± He remembered he was wearing an ax and pulled it out. Then he proceeded to drop it on his own boot when he went to menace Laurel with it.


    ¡°Enough!¡± Laurel had already waited all day and her patience was at an end. She grabbed the ax and shoved the man back to the ground before gesturing with it. ¡°Tell me where the rest of the bandits are, and we can have a nice, pleasant evening.¡±


    ¡°There are bandits around here? Where? We need to run back to town and tell the mayor!¡±


    She stared. Was this man a fool or a genius of deception? ¡°You.¡± she gestured with the ax, watching the young man flinch back. ¡°You have been terrorizing the local farms. Stealing livestock. You are the bandit.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a bandit!¡± Now he looked on the verge of tears. ¡°Yeah I took a goat or two the last few weeks, but my rifle jammed up and I don¡¯t have any other ways to hunt. There isn¡¯t anyone else so it''s just me.¡±


    Laurel sighed heavily and swung the ax up across her shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m not dealing with this right now. Sit. Sleep. Tomorrow we¡¯re going into town. The mayor can deal with whatever the punishment for livestock theft is.¡±


    ¡°Wait, but ¡ª¡±


    ¡°No more discussion. Sleep.¡±


    Laurel went back to lean against a tree as she watched the man climb into a ratty bedroll. While she doubted he had the gumption to make a move, her pride couldn¡¯t take it if he slipped away while she was asleep. She dropped into meditation to pass the evening.


    **********


    ¡°Gather up anything worth keeping.¡± She nudged the man with her foot as soon as the sun was high enough for the mortal to walk through the woods without running into the trees.


    He blinked at her for a moment but started moving to follow her directions. It was piteous to watch. A pack that was held together with hope and not much else, filled with gear anyone would toss away. The pathetic collection of belongings took only a few minutes to gather, then they started the hike back towards town, Laurel still holding what had turned out to be an incredibly dull wood ax. Guilt threatened but she mercilessly shoved it back down. Banditry was still a problem, even when the bandits were poor. Her curiosity was more difficult to stifle.


    ¡°Alright. Name and story.¡±


    The man stumbled where he was trudging ahead of Laurel. Thankfully for Laurel¡¯s sanity, he didn¡¯t ask questions and began talking.


    ¡°Name¡¯s Borin. From a town a few weeks south of Perin. Dad and Mom had too many mouths to feed and told me I had to make my own way when I turned sixteen. No one in town wanted to hire me so I set out north. Passing through towns I¡¯d get work for a few days but then they¡¯d put me out again, so I¡¯d move on. I got here and the same thing happened. I decided to camp out until I find something else to do.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you go south, towards the bigger cities.¡±


    Borin looked down and away. ¡°I ain¡¯t so good with big groups of people. Folks in the country can usually use another pair of hands so I thought this would work. But I messed it up like I mess up everything.¡±


    They walked in silence after that. Laurel tried to empty her mind. In particular she resolutely did not think about another teenager that was floundering through life, not able to find anywhere to fit until she took a chance and wandered into a sect compound where some crotchety old masters took pity on her.


    Laurel was still struggling when they made it to the mayor¡¯s office around midday. Borin¡¯s head had gotten lower and lower as they approached town, trying to shrink into himself. The clerk was surprised when they entered the building but ushered her through into the mayor¡¯s office.


    ¡°Back already? No luck finding our mystery predator? Or did you run into the lad and decide to drop him off? I¡¯ll have to tell you, he¡¯s got a good heart but no one else in town is going to take him in. Hamil¡¯s still recovering from the boy destroying the forge, somehow.¡±


    ¡°Not quite. That boy is your mystery predator. He¡¯s been camping out in the woods for a few months and took the goats. No woodcraft or hunting skills at all on that one. Or particularly good judgment.¡±


    The mayor slumped forward and rested his head in his hands. ¡°I am not looking forward to having to punish that child. The town¡¯s already out for blood from the damage he caused legally. Banditry won¡¯t make them more inclined to mercy.¡±


    Something snapped inside Laurel at that. ¡°What would the punishment be?¡±


    ¡°Usually paying the cost of the animals. Or working it off if that¡¯s not a possibility. In this case? Probably a flogging. I¡¯ll try to spare the boy his hands.¡±


    Was she really going to do this? Yes, apparently. ¡°I¡¯ll take him. And pay for the animals. I¡¯ll need some help out on the farmstead anyway.¡±


    The mayor looked her over. ¡°Are you serious? He¡¯s a walking disaster.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well. Some people took pity on me when I was a walking disaster so I guess the universe has decided it¡¯s my turn.¡±


    ¡°Very well. I won¡¯t stop you from making my life easier.¡±


    ¡°Perfect. Now let''s talk about this land, shall we?¡±


    They spent another few minutes discussing the agreement for the land. Laurel had no interest in creative contracts, and the mayor of a rural town wasn¡¯t equipped for clever dealing anyway. They agreed on the original terms and the land was signed over to Laurel.


    The new base of the Eternal Archive was an abandoned farm in the middle of nowhere. She had time and space to grow into something every bit as grand as what she remembered. And her first student to whip into shape.

 Ch 8 - The Profound Wisdom of the Eternal Archive

    ¡°Breathe in. Feel the energy flowing through you. Breathe out. Lend your strength to urge it along. Breathe in. Move your power through your limbs. Exhale and let it flow where it wants to go. Breathe in.¡±


    Borin groaned and flopped over to the ground. ¡°This isn¡¯t working.¡±


    He watched while Laurel paced back and forth in front of him. The woman was terrifying. She¡¯d come out of the mayor¡¯s office back in Perin and announced Borin would be coming with her. After the morning¡¯s brutal hike he was herded towards a decrepit farmhouse and told to get to work. Any thoughts of leaving had been shattered when he saw the small woman lift half a collapsed barn wall and toss it away without any effort. But she was feeding him, and despite not being able to hear the mayor, Borin was aware enough to guess Laurel had saved him from something much worse. So he did whatever she said. Even when what she told him to do was some weird mystic nonsense.


    ¡°Miss Laurel, I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m supposed to be feeling but there¡¯s nothing there.¡±


    ¡°Master Laurel. And that¡¯s fine. Cultivation can take a while to get the hang of. Get started on the rest of your chores for the day.¡±


    So he did. The first week they had mostly cleared out the farmhouse and got it up to a livable state. Somehow Laurel always had whatever they needed to clean out the area. She had even produced beds for both of them. Or at least one bed, and one cot for him. But it was still better than anything he¡¯d had since leaving home. The rest of the buildings were rotting and they had spent another week tearing them down and salvaging any useful wood they could find. His chores now mostly consisted of exterminating voles and other farm vermin.


    Days melted by. Borin spent mornings listening to Laurel talk about mana and did his best to follow instructions for cultivating. The afternoons were spent doing labor around the property. Evenings Laurel left him to find his own ways while she wandered the area or read books she always seemed to have on hand. It was the best situation he¡¯d found for himself since leaving home. So he just politely ignored the fact that magic was evil and illegal. And if he was apprehensive and maybe not giving the morning exercises every possible effort, Laurel didn¡¯t need to know.


    **********


    ¡°I think the issues with the ambient mana is causing you problems. We¡¯re going to try something different today. I¡¯ll use my own mana to try and connect and guide yours.¡± Laurel was suddenly looming over him and Borin couldn¡¯t quite hide the flinch.


    ¡°Um that¡¯s okay, let¡¯s keep trying this way for now.¡±


    Laurel frowned down at him. He didn¡¯t know how such a tiny woman could look so intimidating. ¡°It won¡¯t hurt.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know. I¡¯m sorry I haven¡¯t gotten it yet, I just want to keep trying first.¡±


    ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll do the normal meditation then. Breathe in¡­¡±


    Borin let Laurel¡¯s direction fade into the background. At this point he could recite it himself, and the instructions never really made more sense, no matter how often he heard them. He was nearing a precipice. Laurel was getting impatient with him. She never said anything, but he could tell in the way she cut herself off, or frowned when he wasn¡¯t looking. He¡¯d seen enough would-be bosses start making the same face a few weeks before they asked him to leave.


    Instead of the usual farm chores, Laurel had tasked him with heading into town and ¡°find a cat to deal with the fucking horde of mice in this place¡±. He wasn¡¯t sure how one went about getting a cat but he dutifully made his way into town. The wild grasses swayed in the wind as he trekked the few kilometers from he farmstead. He meandered down the main roads, looking for stray cats that might want a new home. Kind of like him. The townsfolk scowled when they saw him coming. He felt his shoulders migrating up towards his ears as he slumped down. Yes, he had damaged a forge, and a loom, and some buildings, and one storage silo. But really, did they need to hold it against him? He¡¯d done his best.


    Eventually he found himself at one of the town¡¯s two taverns. Mildred, the owner, was far kinder than old Ferick, who¡¯d run him out of the other bar when he¡¯d destroyed a couple benches in an accident. Mildred pointed him to the Oster farm, where they were just weaning a new litter of kittens from their barn cat. A couple hours and an armful of scratches later, Borin was nursing an ale while their new cat had some cream on the seat next to him. Or maybe it was his third ale. It was hard to keep track when Mildred was so happy to keep him topped up.


    ¡°Oy. Didn¡¯t we run you out of town after messing about in Thomas¡¯s forge?¡± A hand tapping his shoulder alerted Borin that the question was meant for him.


    ¡°You did. But I¡¯m back now, hooray! Oh sorry Mildred.¡± The last was said after he sloshed the ale onto the bar. A hiss and a fierce swat was the retribution of the little cat that had been inside the splash zone.


    ¡°What poor soul took you on then?¡±


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Name¡¯s Laurel. Out on the abandoned farm near the woods outside of town.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Working as a farmhand then? Surprised she¡¯s trusting you with a scythe.¡± The man had been joined at this point by a few of the other locals at the bar and the nearby table, perking up at the hint of gossip.


    ¡°Mmm. No scythes yet. Mostly meditating. And trying to ¡®feel the magic in the world around you.¡¯ And voles. Lots of voles.¡±


    Borin watched his new friends scoot further away. And one woman hurried out after dropping some coins on the table.


    ¡°Free advice boy, keep that to yourself. Ain¡¯t nothing good comes from magic.¡±


    ¡°No, Laurel¡¯s nice. A bit weird but it''s good so far.¡±


    The man raised his hands in surrender and turned around to strike up a conversation with someone else. Borin went back to his stew, and cuddled the kitten in close. It was soft and he didn¡¯t mind a few little scratches.


    The walk back to the farm was long enough to get him close to sober. The reaction of the townies to Laurel¡¯s methods was a surprise. He knew people hated magic, and it was technically illegal in parts of the Empire. But so far it was just meditating and trying to feel things. What was wrong with that? Those were also people more than happy to drive him out of town after a few mistakes. Laurel had only been kind. Sharp at times, but that wasn¡¯t really a problem. Borin came to a decision then. No more holding back. Despite what the townsfolk said, he would commit to Laurel¡¯s plans. Next time she offered he would let her spark his own magic with her own. He was terrible at everything else he¡¯d ever tried. But cultivation would be where he found his destiny. He would make sure of it.


    ***********


    Another month slipped by. Laurel watched Borin where he was attempting to cultivate. When he slipped into a deep enough meditation, she sent a tendril of her own mana to jolt Borin¡¯s into movement. Anyone could see how hard the boy had been trying in recent weeks. His actual progress was still lacking, but cultivation couldn¡¯t be rushed. There was too much pressure on him, and it was her fault. Breaking into active cultivation could take years. The boy was a mess, but almost anyone could learn to cultivate to some degree, given enough time and resources. They didn¡¯t have years to wait to get the sect started though. Liquid funds were running low and there were only three years before they had to pay off the land. They needed to find some ways to bring in money and recruits. With no other choices she pushed him, and watched him slump away every afternoon to escape into his chores.


    Leaving Borin to his tasks, Laurel made her way back into Perin. It was time to put her dignity aside and sell her services to the mortals. It had been weeks since she stopped into town, instead spending her free time doing her best to cultivate the local Core. The ambient mana was still too weak to really connect to the spiritual construct. As a result, she spent most of her time frustrated, taking it out on Borin, and then feeling even worse. It was the lack of anything she could actually do that was wearing her down. Not enough mana to cultivate the Core. Not enough time to actually teach Borin anything useful. Her first months as Sectmaster and she was floundering.


    The path to town was unremarkable. A dirt road only barely set off from the fields around it, that turned into a trough of mud in the rain. Paving stones would need to be sourced eventually, along with a thousand other things to build their sect compound up into something workable. She hadn¡¯t even brought out the legacy stone to show Borin, too worried about having no way to defend it. Town was upon her before she could slip too deep into the self-flagellation. Her first stop was the mayor¡¯s office and she didn¡¯t tarry on the way.


    ¡°Tell me Mr. Mayor, is there a central hub in town that most people visit? I need to advertise some services on offer.¡±


    The man leaned back with his customary drink. ¡°Oh sure. The general store is the best bet. You can¡¯t have grown anything yet though?¡±


    It was a leading question but since she was here to spread the word it was worth it to chat before rushing off to the general store. ¡°You¡¯re right, not selling vegetables. But I figured I could offer my services in other things. Hunting. Healing. Investigating anything unusual.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t stop you. But I think you¡¯ll find it hard to get the locals to reach out to a stranger. Everyone goes to Doc Q when they need medicine. And it''s quiet enough here that people don¡¯t usually need any investigating. Maybe hunting or foraging people will come find you. We don¡¯t have many willing to take those jobs since the Herricks moved out to the Borderlands. I¡¯d just ask you keep things in hand. Don¡¯t want to be called in if that charge of yours starts more trouble.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry. Borin is coming along. Hasn¡¯t broken anything in weeks.¡±


    The mayor snorted as she turned to leave. ¡°As long as anything he breaks is out of town and out of sight, I¡¯ll choose to believe you.¡± Chuckles followed her out of the office as she made her way towards the general store. A brief, stilted interaction with the proprietor secured her a place to hang her notice and a promise to spread the word. Now it was down to waiting on the townsfolk to come see them.


    ********


    Borin was again running errands in town. Since the confrontation in the pub he¡¯d been finding more reasons to stay on the farm. Now when he walked around, he was convinced there were stares and whispers. Laurel was upset that no one had shown up to the farm in the week after posting her notice. The aggravation grew until this morning when she sent him into town to ask if anyone had shown any interest. Head down, he went straight to the general store without making eye contact with anyone. He stood in the corner while others browsed the selection. When a lull in shoppers appeared, he made his way to the front to ask the owner for any news.


    ¡°Not much interest. Most folks get by without hiring someone to hunt anyone down. Doc did say he had some ingredients he¡¯d pay for if you could find them. Going to have to go find him though.¡±


    Borin mumbled thanks and made his way towards the building near the edge of town that served as the local doctor¡¯s workplace and home. The short time he¡¯d lived in town was enough for him to become well-acquainted with the area. When he entered, sounds were coming from the back room so he sat on a hard-backed chair in the empty front room to wait.


    ¡°Borin! It¡¯s been a while since you were in, thought you must have gone back down south. What happened this time?¡±


    He felt blood rush to his cheeks at Doc¡¯s well-meaning comment. He thought about the stories of noble cultivators Laurel had taken to mixing into their morning sessions and pushed his shoulders back. ¡°I¡¯m actually with the new group on the old Rashan homestead. Deric mentioned you might have something for us.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± The surprise in the doctor¡¯s voice was a sharper blow than he expected, but Borin did his best to school his face into something neutral. ¡°Well in that case, here. I¡¯ll pay by weight for anything on that list. The merchants don¡¯t make their way up here often enough and I don¡¯t have time to forage for myself.¡±


    He took the list and hurried out, courage spent for the day. With a muttered thanks he hurried back down the road. Staring at his feet, he was unprepared for the wall of muscle he slammed into. Rushing to his feet he stammered out an apology.


    ¡°No harm done boy. You finally ditched the witch, eh?¡±


    ¡°What, er, no. Just doing some errands.¡±


    ¡°Shame. You seem like a good kid. You should be a bit more careful who you hang around. Witches are always up to something. Might be worth asking why she¡¯s bothering with you. ¡±


    Borin made some vague agreeing noises and all but ran back home. The larger man had unnerved him with the questions. The short exchange swirled through his thoughts for the rest of the evening. It was late before he finally stopped tossing and turning and slipped into sleep.

 Ch 9 - Nonstop Action and Adventure

    ¡°How do you even know where to find this stuff?¡±


    Laurel paused at the question from Borin. Hadn¡¯t she explained her origins when he first joined up with the sect? ¡°I grew up in the region. We wandered all over, foraging, hunting, shirking chores back at the main compound. The names are new but the good doctor included descriptions so it¡¯s easy enough.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s we?¡±


    ¡°My friends. They were members of the sect too. We had lessons together, were assigned missions together. That level of proximity can go one of two ways and we became close friends, eventually wandering far and wide on our adventures. Slaying beasts and ferreting out secrets, making names for ourselves.¡±


    ¡°Are they going to visit soon then? Or will we go to the old sect compound to meet them?¡±


    Her breath caught. She hadn¡¯t explained the full story, hadn¡¯t been able to stomach speaking the words aloud. But the boy deserved something. ¡°No. No visiting. I¡¯m all that¡¯s left.¡±


    Borin had the sense to let the subject drop and they wandered in silence. She knew he had to be curious, and he was trusting her with so much. She could give him this. ¡°I was away from home. Far away. I was sent to help another sect with some spirit beasts. When I got there they lured me into a trap. By the time I got out I had no idea what was going on. I made my way back home and I found¡­¡± Laurel trailed off. How do you describe the fundamental truths of your world breaking down the middle?


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. The sect is gone. Except for us. That¡¯s why we¡¯re doing this. It will take time, but we can rebuild the sect and keep the founder¡¯s vision alive. We can, and we will.¡± She knew this last bit was more for her than Borin, but she let it out anyway.


    They reached a clearing within walking distance of a stream, and Laurel deemed it good enough for their campsite. Under her direction Borin had a small fire going, only a slight burn to show for it. She produced a rabbit carcass and set it to roasting as they settled in.


    ********


    ¡°Why join the sect when it¡¯s illegal? You said you joined when you were around my age. But you¡¯re not that old.¡± Borin was pushing his luck. Laurel had been in a talkative mood, answering questions in between directions on how to harvest plants and mushrooms, or stops for cultivation practice. He figured he could make the most of it.


    To his surprise, Laurel actually laughed. ¡°I¡¯m a lot older than I look. Benefits of cultivation,¡± she said with a wink. ¡°My parents were weavers, and good ones. We lived in the City the Eternal Archive ran. It might surprise you but I lacked the patience for weaving as a child.¡± A rueful smile crossed her face. ¡°Truthfully I hated it. I tried a few other occupations but nothing stuck. The sect offered entrance exams each year, and I took them and passed. I never looked back. Trained hard so I would get to stay, eventually realized I had a knack for swordfighting and I became one of the sect warriors.¡±


    Borin let the conversation lapse in happy memories this time as they ate dinner and turned in, him to his lumpy bedroll, and Laurel to a large tent he swore she was not carrying when they left.


    Birdsong woke him before the next dawn. He rubbed his eyes and forced himself to sit up, finding Laurel already awake and meditating. Her eyes flicked open and she tossed one of the oat bars she carried around as trail rations. Borin had been forced to make this batch and looked longingly at the dead fire before digging in.


    They were heading north, Laurel confident they would find several of the herbs the doctor had requested if they went slightly higher into the hills. Borin just followed the directions she called out. Pick that herb, scrape the moss off that tree, harvest the stem but not the flower of another.


    More hours slipped by until the afternoon was almost gone. Borin wasn¡¯t paying attention, and the slanting rays of the sun near-blinded him as he stumbled into another clearing. When his vision returned, Laurel was not where she had been next to him. Blinking his eyes clear of water, he spun around and realized what he¡¯d missed. A small stone building was nestled on the far side of the small glade. Hidden beneath the canopy at the edge of the clearing, it had moss growing up the sides, the door and window frames having long since rotted away, and the back left corner collapsed on itself. Laurel was staring like the secrets of life were locked away inside.


    Borin eased closer, looking for some of the signs Laurel had spent the last day hammering into him. The birds and insects were still making noise. No odd smells or flashes of unexpected colors. No twig snapping that he could detect. But something had entranced his teacher. He came up next to her, staring at the gaping darkness of the doorway.


    ¡°The sect made this,¡± she finally said. ¡°You can see where the crest was engraved above the door.¡±


    ¡°This was the sect house?¡± Borin tried not to let his disappointment come through in his voice. Laurel had described hundreds of people but this was barely a cottage.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°Not at all. The sect built dozens of these way stations across the region. Shelter for anyone in the area, for whatever reason. When it was still active there would have been a lock only a member of the sect could open. When the sect was attacked it would have been abandoned.¡±


    Borin inspected the building with new interest. The building that had been uninhabited for decades at least, judging by the wear. Then he turned and looked at Laurel. The woman who appeared to be around 30, if he was forced to guess.


    ¡°Laurel. How long were you trapped by those other cultivators?¡±


    ¡°You know, I¡¯m not entirely sure. How old is the Laskarian Empire? It definitely wasn¡¯t around didn¡¯t exist before I went underground.¡±


    **********


    Laurel watched as Borin flubbed his third attempt at starting a fire. The boy¡¯s hands had been shaking for the last half hour since she told him how long she¡¯d been trapped. She¡¯d spent the same time going over every conversation they¡¯d ever had. In her zeal to start moving forward on establishing the sect, explaining her own history hadn¡¯t been a priority. More concerning, she couldn¡¯t recall explaining the long-term effects of cultivation either.


    ¡°Borin.¡± He flinched so hard the flint went flying a few meters across the clearing. She sighed. ¡°Borin, you know cultivation is magic right?¡±


    ¡°What? Of course I know. I¡¯m not stupid. Why are you asking? Everything is fine ¨C¡±


    ¡°Enough. You just seemed a bit on edge. Maybe it was too much information at once.¡±


    Laurel watched as he dragged his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up in every direction. ¡°It¡¯s not too much. It¡¯s just one thing to hear about magic. Another to find out you know someone that¡¯s, like, a thousand years old. Or older? I thought it was more like, meditating to find your inner peace kind of magic. Not ¡®live forever¡¯ kinds of magic. You know? Like I didn¡¯t think ¨C¡±


    Whatever he was going to say was cut off as Laurel sent a small bolt of lightning into the pile of kindling. ¡°Cultivation can be bent to wonders you¡¯ve never dreamed of, or horrors you don¡¯t want to imagine. That was nothing. I¡¯ve seen cultivators turn back tidal waves, stand alone against an army, fly through the air or thrive in the deepest ocean. Cultivators strong enough to travel between worlds could push whole planets out of their way. That¡¯s what we¡¯re aiming for.


    ¡°But not tonight. It¡¯s getting late so meditate on inner peace or something and then go to bed. We¡¯ll head back in the morning.¡±


    ********


    This time Borin had some pep in his step as he walked into town. After he got over the initial shock of Laurel¡¯s revelations, he had quickly transitioned to giddiness. Shooting lightning from his hands, being young and strong forever. This was the stuff of stories or kids games. Laurel had sent him off with a backpack stuffed full with the foraged plants. So lost in his imagination, he barely noticed the distance to town as it passed by.


    Doc Q was surprised to see him back so soon, and uninjured. But he was happy enough to pay for the contents of Borin¡¯s pack. He left carrying more money than he ever had in his life. He could feel the awkwardness oozing out of him as he tried to walk without calling attention to himself. Despite the efforts, he could feel eyes on him the entire way to the general store. He checked himself in the doorway. There were two strangers inside. One a tall thin man with dark hair, dark eyes, and all black clothes. He was accompanied by a stout woman with two hatchets slung across her hips. Both glanced over at him but went back to their conversation without comment.


    ¡°Oy, in or out boy!¡±


    The shopkeeper made his presence known and Borin hurried inside. He remembered the scolding from the time he¡¯d knocked half the shelves over and had no desire to repeat it. It didn¡¯t matter. Instead of making his way through the maze of shelves ¨C that he maintained were too close together ¨C he walked over to the proprietor and handed over the list Laurel had sent him with. The man took it with a grunt and started piling things up on the counter. Borin watched with a bit of trepidation, this was going to be a heavy walk back home.


    ¡°What¡¯s a young man like yourself need with all that?¡± It took a moment to realize the strange man was speaking to him.


    ¡°Oh. I¡¯m picking up supplies for myself and my teacher. We live on a farm outside of town so it''s easier to do all at once.¡±


    ¡°Heavy load. Your teacher must be a real taskmaster.¡± Borin decided he¡¯d judged the man too soon.


    ¡°She is. But she¡¯s a good teacher too, patient, smart.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s she teaching you, farming?¡± The woman had joined them silently.


    ¡°Oh, a bunch of things. Woodcraft, history, how to fight.¡± An unfamiliar whisper of caution kept him from mentioning the lightning. The imperial government wasn¡¯t a fan of magic, even if most folks thought it was mostly harmless stories. His supplies were assembled so he passed over some of the silver from the doctor and loaded his pack back up.


    ¡°Good luck with that, boy.¡± The man clapped him on the shoulder and wandered off back to his survey of the goods on offer. Borin made his way back to the farmstead. Something about the interaction didn¡¯t sit quite right but he put it out of his mind as he trudged the kilometers home.


    **********


    It was Laurel¡¯s turn to make the trip to town. Besides a few other foraging trips, her plans to amass enough to pay off the farm by doing jobs for the town had not met much success. The locals weren''t warming up to them either. She was regretting establishing the sect house so far outside of town. The people here hadn¡¯t had a chance to get used to them, but she didn¡¯t have enough local silver to buy a building in the center of things. And this place didn¡¯t have enough interest in ancient artifacts to raise the funds by selling something off. She shook off the regrets. It would work. This was how the founders had begun the Eternal Archive in the first place, and what was good enough for them was good enough for her.


    A quick scan with her spiritual senses told her the mayor was alone, so she decided to continue her tradition of stopping in for a chat. The secretary averted her eyes but waved Laurel straight through.


    ¡°Mr. Mayor, how have things been?¡±


    The man glanced at Laurel before returning his gaze to the papers in front of him. ¡°Yes, good. Nothing unusual. Was there something I can help you with?¡±


    Laurel narrowed her eyes. The man still wasn¡¯t looking at her. A far cry from the jovial man who welcomed her with a drink on her previous visits. ¡°Are you sure everything is alright, Borin hasn¡¯t caused any trouble has he?¡±


    The man finally jerked his eyes up. ¡°No, not at all. Just imperial paperwork you know?¡± He said the last with a brittle smile that stirred Laurel¡¯s pity.


    ¡°Better you than me. I¡¯ll leave you to it, then. Best of luck.¡±


    The owner of the general store was similarly curt, though that seemed to be the man¡¯s normal state of being. He was, however, the bearer of good news, so Laurel forgave the surly man his quirks. For now.


    ¡°New job came in for you. Pack of wolves off northeast that need to be encouraged away from town. Pays good.¡± He handed over a note with the same information, Laurel¡¯s eyes bugging out at a sum that was more than the rest of the jobs she¡¯d done so far combined.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it. Thank you.¡±


    She jogged the way home to let Borin know he¡¯d have to be on his own for the next week or so. He was coming along well, but she didn¡¯t trust him not to fall over and offer himself up to wolf claws in the worst possible moment.

 Ch 10 - Record Scratch

    ¡°Focus on cultivating at least four hours each day. Try and do as much of that continuously as you can. We need to keep up on the pest population, the cat can¡¯t do all of it so no slacking on the rest of your chores either. Another two hours each day on exercise and your martial arts. Otherwise you¡¯re free. I left a few books on Laskarian history so you can read those as well.¡±


    Laurel could see Borin¡¯s face falling more the longer she spoke.


    ¡°Are you sure I can¡¯t come along?¡±


    ¡°Not this time. We don¡¯t know how many wolves are in the pack.¡± She held up a hand to stall any protest. ¡°You¡¯re doing well. But you¡¯re not ready yet.¡± When he still looked sad she gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. It didn¡¯t really help but what did she know about modulating the moods of teenagers.


    She left before he could muster any more arguments and made her way across the river, around and through the farms and pasture, and into the woods. The midsummer day was warm but not scorching, cooler under the shade of trees. It was a pleasant wander, but as afternoon bled into evening, Laurel hadn¡¯t found any evidence of a wolf pack that might be harassing the outlying homesteads. There was every chance someone had seen a brown fox or a stray dog and panicked. But wandering the woods for a few days and getting paid for it was a good deal for her either way.


    Another day of no predators, she decided to range further afield. She stopped at the rise of a small hill and turned her head up to the sky. The ambient mana had been increasing ever so slowly. Still not enough to use most techniques without exhausting herself. Flying was definitely out. Even the lightning demonstration for Borin had been more taxing than it should have been, relying almost entirely on her internal mana flows for the necessary power. She knew it was only a matter of time before her more external techniques would be once more at her fingertips. But the wait was excruciating. She missed the sky. Not since she learned how to fly after reaching expert level in the sect had she spent this long on the ground.


    Ranging further out over the next two days, she eventually ran into the wolves. Only a handful of mangy beasts and not the dozens of dangerous animals she was led to expect. She strolled into the den. They all shrank back, tails tucked with some lackluster growls. They didn¡¯t take much to dissuade. She flared her mana for a moment, speeding up the flow and letting it leak out into the world. These weren¡¯t spirit beasts, but most animals instinctively understood when a greater predator stood in front of them. The tiny pack ran in the opposite direction of town. They wouldn¡¯t come back to this area any time soon.


    Laurel did her best to contain the annoyance, limiting herself to one rather vicious kick at a nearby tree. She could have brought Borin along for the experience and to keep an eye on his cultivation. He was getting close to a breakthrough and she wanted to make sure he didn¡¯t do anything foolish.


    She turned and made her way back home. A herd of deer crossed her path and a well-thrown knife brought a childless doe down, scattering the rest. She knelt to dress the kill. As her knife came close to the carcass she paused. Something was wrong. Her senses spread out around her. Nothing unexpected, just a normal forest. She prodded at the ambient mana as well but she felt nothing out of the ordinary. The feeling of dread got worse, balling into a pit in the bottom of her stomach. She abandoned the deer and ran.


    ********


    Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus inward. Borin had memorized the mantras Laurel spouted at him every day. To the point they sometimes featured in his dreams. Concentration broken, he decided it was time for chores. Laurel had been gone for a few days now. The first night had been uncomfortable. He wasn¡¯t used to being so isolated since she¡¯d taken him out to the farm. If he had found the cat and cuddled it during the night, the scratches were easily hidden, and no one had to know.


    The farmhouse was as clean as it could be. The old building had good bones, but it could use some more focused attention. Borin and Laurel could fix a door or rehang a shutter, but the roof needed replacing, as did the outer siding. That was part of the reason Laurel was out searching for predators. She¡¯d told him she was a warrior, but Borin couldn¡¯t help but worry about her hunting wolves alone. He kept busy to avoid considering he might be alone again. When Laurel got back he would talk to her about finding some more sect members, and teaching him more about fighting.


    Outside, he went through the forms Laurel had taught him. Following his instructions, he went as slow as he could, only stumbling a few times throughout the entire set. The process repeated three times and he was covered in sweat by the end. The stream at the back of the property called to him, and he waded into an area with barely any current to splash around for a bit before lying on the bank to dry. A couple hours later he woke up from his nap and decided it was just about time to start dinner.


    His feet slowed as he neared the farmhouse. The man and woman he¡¯d met at the general store were waiting on the crumbling veranda. As he got closer he realized the door was open and another stranger emerged from inside.


    ¡°Hey, what do you think you¡¯re doing?!¡± Borin shouted and ran the rest of the way, stopping at the base of the steps.


    ¡°Borin, perfect! Just who we were looking for.¡± The man who¡¯d spoken with Borin in the shop stepped forward, staying on the porch and looming over Borin.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I got your name. And what are you doing here, in our house?¡±


    ¡°Our names aren¡¯t important, we just came to have a chat with you.¡±


    Borin started to back away. ¡°I think you should go.¡± He was about to turn and sprint for the trees when his back ran into something solid. Hands clamped around his upper arms as he was forced back into the house.


    ¡°None of that boy. Like I said, we¡¯re just here to talk.¡±


    *********


    Borin was concerned. Or, if he was more precise, terrified. They¡¯d forced him into a chair and tied his arms and legs to the solid wood. If that wasn¡¯t intimidating enough, the big one that grabbed him was standing behind him, letting a knife flash into the corner of his vision every few moments. Even his last companion, the farm cat, had abandoned him, streaking out of the door before the leader had locked them all inside. There were five in all. The first man, still in all black, who did all the talking, and the ax-wielding woman from town. The larger man stood behind him, and another man and woman that looked like twins, fair-haired and blue eyed were by the ancient fireplace. They would have been the image of classic innocence if they didn¡¯t have near-identical sneers when they looked at him.


    ¡°Listen here Borin. You answer all our questions and you never see us again. Sound good?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for a response before continuing. ¡°We know none of this is your fault, okay?


    ¡°Now when did your so-called master first target you?¡±


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Look, I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about. Just go and I won¡¯t tell anyone. Please.¡±


    ¡°She showed up months ago and preyed on you Borin, it''s not your fault. Tell us about Laurel, have you seen her do anything unusual or unexplainable.¡± The man behind him squeezed his shoulders in a mockery of comfort.


    Borin felt panic clogging his throat. They were here for Laurel. Why, who were they bothering in the little farmhouse? A tiny thread of reason remained. Laurel had taken him in and he wouldn¡¯t betray her. ¡°Laurel¡¯s teaching me how to hunt and forage. Nothing unusual.¡±


    ¡°I see you¡¯re going to be difficult. Now, watch.¡±


    Borin didn¡¯t have any choice but to listen as the leader held his hand open in front of him. While Borin watched, the hand caught on fire. He instinctively flinched back, pulling at the restraints. His captors laughed at the reaction.


    ¡°You see? We know all about rogue mages and the perversions they run to when no one stops them. There¡¯s no need to protect her, you¡¯re the victim Borin. So why don¡¯t you tell us, how has she hurt you?¡±


    His breaths were coming in fast pants. He thought of the last few months. The first place since leaving home where he wasn¡¯t tossed out after a mistake. Where someone saw something worthwhile in him, who helped him learn and grow. Borin gritted his teeth.


    ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about. Laurel hasn¡¯t hurt me. Please let me go. Please.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be the hard way then. Hold him down.¡± Meaty hands forced Borin further into the chair. The lead man approached, hand still aflame.


    ¡°No. Please. No, just let me go, please, no!¡±


    *********


    Laurel sped through Pevin as a blur, no longer concerned with keeping a low profile.The apprehension she¡¯d felt before had morphed into a deep dread. She arrived at the farm at a flat sprint. There were two heartbeats as she crossed to the farmhouse to take everything in. Smashed windows. Open door. No noise. Ash on the wind. Then she was in the door.


    ¡°Borin? Bor¨C¡± she cut off with a low groan. ¡°No. No no no no no.¡± He was drooped forward, tied to a chair. ¡°Borin¡± her voice had dropped to a whisper. Laurel walked over and tipped his head back. She sank to her knees in front of him.


    Sobs wracked her body as Laurel felt herself go hollow. She cried for Borin, she cried for the rest of her sect, she cried for herself, alone again. His eyes had been burnt out of his skull. There was a hole in the center of his chest, blood soaking the roughspun clothes the boy had arrived with, that she had never thought to replace.


    A well of rage bubbled deep in her chest. Strands of hair stood on end as the static built up in the air. When she couldn¡¯t hold it in anymore, a feral scream tore out of her throat. The farmhouse exploded as torrents of lightning arced from every limb. The roof and walls were shredded, wood and stone flying high into the air before slamming into the ground.


    Laurel stood and walked out of the demolished building. A group of cultivators were approaching. They strolled down the path in a group, close enough to react if threatened, spread out enough that it would be difficult to hit more than one at a time. Professionals then. A tall, thin man wearing a black cloak was in the lead. He wore a smarmy smile as he and Laurel moved towards each other. More importantly, the man had no veil over his power at all. Adept level, and a fire cultivator.


    The man opened his mouth to speak but Laurel had all the information she needed. The knife barely materialized in Laurel¡¯s hand before she flung it faster than a mortal eye could track. She had the satisfaction of seeing the man¡¯s eyes widen before he collapsed with a blade through his throat.


    It took the other four a beat to realize what was happening, but that was enough for Laurel.


    The woman on the left had just long enough to reach the hatchets on her hips before Laurel¡¯s sword severed the head from the rest of her body.


    The earth-aspected brawler tried to harden his skin. It might even have worked if Laurel didn¡¯t have a master-level metal affinity that she was evolving to empower her blades. Stone-infused flesh cut just as easily as anything else.


    The last pair ran. A bolt of lightning hit the man, his body falling to the ground, spasming uncontrollably. The hacking gasps of an animal that couldn¡¯t force itself to breathe joined the crackling of flames as a backdrop to the grisly scene.


    The woman had scrounged up courage to fight back. She raised a gun in a shaking hand. Laurel was too consumed by her fury to care. Burning pain spread across her right hip and shoulder, and then Laurel was on her. Two swings and the ice-blonde woman lost her hand and her life in quick succession.


    Then there was silence. Laurel was aware of her wounds, but only distantly. Nothing felt real. She dragged herself back to the destroyed farmhouse and Borin¡¯s body. With the last of her strength she clumsily applied some bandages before collapsing into unconsciousness.


    ********


    Waking was easy. Forcing her eyes open to acknowledge the horror around her was far harder. Her body ached. The bullet wounds were the sharpest points, even though a master cultivator¡¯s body was resilient enough that she wasn¡¯t in danger. But the rest of her body ached with how quickly and violently she¡¯d spent her mana, without the ambient mana to support the techniques. Small muscle spasms and bone-deep fatigue plagued every part of her, while her meridians felt like she¡¯d set them on fire. Almost worse was the smell. She was tapped dry of mana, and the usual instinctive regulation of her senses was nowhere to be found. Ash and the beginnings of rot assaulted her nose, choked her breath and laid on her tongue, forcing her to taste the devastation. For the first time in her long life, she contemplated not getting up. She could just lay here as the world moved on around her, without grappling with the pain, or the sorrow, or her own spectacular failure.


    Eventually Laurel did get up. She might deserve to relive every stubborn, ignorant decision that brought her to this place, but Borin didn¡¯t. She staggered to her feet and looked around. Her apprentice¡¯s body was on the floor where it had fallen, the farmhouse in pieces scattered across the surrounding fields. Their enemies could rot where they fell, but not Borin. Laurel forced her hands to work as she pulled him to the center of the floor, above the solid stone foundation. She found a beam that had supported the ceiling, and gently laid it over the boy¡¯s body. The same process she repeated throughout the day, pulling all the wooden pieces of the house back into a pyre. Even the small trickle of mana to put things in her storage tattoo was too much, so she carried the pieces herself, one by one. When her still fatigued muscles tried to give out, she kept going, fueled by willpower and spite. By sunset, every flammable part of the farm was gathered.


    With shaking hands, Laurel struck at a piece of flint. After four tries, a spark leapt onto the nearby tinder. She stood witness for hours as it morphed into a blaze hot enough that a mortal would be forced back. Only her mana-infused skin let her stand so close.


    She wouldn¡¯t leave any of Borin to this place. It took hours for the fire to burn, and Laurel didn¡¯t look away even once. Her mind layered the funeral pyre in front of her now with all her worst nightmares about the fate of the sect. They all said the same thing. You could have stopped it, you should have been there, you failed. The boy only wanted a place to belong, to put down roots, and it had been ripped away.


    Despite her best efforts to keep a blank mind, the day¡¯s labors had given her room to think. What her mind came up with was grim. The cultivators that killed Borin weren¡¯t local. But was this a horrific coincidence or something darker? A connection had formed in her mind between the mayor¡¯s gruff demeanor on her last visit and the scene before her. It was hard to fathom and Laurel fought against it. These people didn¡¯t like magic, but to send someone out to kill them was a different thing entirely. To send cultivators was even more unbelievable. But the taste of truth was there anyway. They knew where to find Laurel¡¯s tiny sect, and they knew enough to wait until she was gone.


    Another horrifying realization gripped her then. The wolf pack was too far and too small to be a true danger to the farms. This had been planned, and the mayor at least was part of it, along with the owner of the general store. Maybe the entire town.


    Laurel tried to breathe through the haze of red seeping into her vision. She was done. With this town, with this country, with this whole fucking continent. Echoes of Grandmaster Florin¡¯s memory tablet waved for attention at the back of her mind. She still had a duty to fulfill, but she was doing it her way, and far from this cursed empire.


    The fire died just before dawn. Laurel choked out the words of respect for those that fell in service to the sect, and gathered a few ashes in a small jade jar. She was recovered enough to store them in her tattoo, the safest place in the world to her estimation. Without another backward glance she made her way to town.


    The streets were empty. Laurel¡¯s senses blanketed the area, showing her where each citizen of the town was cowering in their homes. The mayor was in his office so Laurel walked straight in. No friendly smiles or offers to share a drink this time. She said nothing, staring at the man and wondering when her own judgment veered so sharply off a cliff.


    ¡°There are protocols, rules. If I hadn¡¯t then my family would have been in danger.¡±


    ¡°Your family is in danger now.¡±


    The man looked up from his feet at that, meeting Laurel¡¯s eyes for a bare moment before looking down again. ¡°Please. I acted alone, if you have any sense of justice please spare them.¡±


    ¡°Like you spared Borin? The worst thing that boy did was knock over something he shouldn¡¯t have. They tortured him.¡±


    Laurel watched any hope leave the man¡¯s posture at those words. Good. He stayed silent. Rightly recognizing nothing would stop what happens next. She thought about torturing him. Tying him to a chair and burning out his eyes the way the enemy cultivators had done to Borin. It would feel good. But she was too tired and too heartsick to try and wheedle information from this man, information that was bound to be useless anyway. She looked at him for far too long, taking in the defeated slump of his shoulders, the wrinkles that spoke of a life of service and stress.


    With no fanfare, her fist cocked back and then blasted forward. The mayor toppled backwards. It wasn¡¯t enough to kill him. Probably. Laurel was past caring. She walked out of town and turned south, towards the more populated areas of the empire. Everything in her hoped that the town burned to the ground, but it wouldn¡¯t be her that caused it.

 Ch 11 - Laskar City

    A twinge in her spiritual senses had Laurel turning to the right just in time to get tackled as something leapt out of gulch. She rolled with the movement and threw the beast away before it could get enough purchase for a bite. When she jumped back to her feet, she found herself across from a slightly dazed tree stalker. Like its mortal cousins, it was small and quadrupedal. But where those animals had thick pelts to protect from the elements, this had a layer of bark and thorny vines growing from its back. It stared Laurel down and started a low growl. Laurel growled back. She could kick this beast into oblivion, vent some of the wild rage that still howled inside. A sliver of good judgment, that sounded remarkably like Imelda¡¯s voice, held her back. Indiscriminate slaughter was the first step down a path she wouldn¡¯t return from. The stalker pulled back, recognizing Laurel was no easy prey. It hissed and batted a paw in Laurel¡¯s direction. Growing tired of the distraction, Laurel let her aura leak out and made a quick step towards the beast. It whimpered and fled back through the trees. Laurel watched it go with her spiritual senses and went back to running. If only all her problems were so easy to deal with..


    *******


    The roads were both better constructed and more crowded the closer Laurel got to the capital city of the Laskar Empire. Wonders of mortal engineering she had never dreamed of in her own time were commonplace. Laurel wished she could appreciate it the way it deserved, but every speck of wealth or progress made her resent the whole country even more. These people didn¡¯t kill Borin but that didn¡¯t matter to her grief. Just running down the road she saw innovations that would beggar a small sect. She had even noticed some flying vessels. They moved slowly, leaking trails of smoke and steam, wooden ships suspended below canvas bubbles somehow allowing them to float. If not for the desire to stay unseen she might have attempted to fly up and take a closer look. As it was, she resolved to see what she could find in the next city she passed through.


    As towns became more common, she ignored her embarrassment and began picking up more money. She would need it for passage on a ship if nothing else. Stealing from mortals was still shameful, but none of these people were worthy of a sect treasure that could end up being useful later. The larger towns at least meant wealthier families. What she suspected were the Empire¡¯s noble equivalents were easy to spot from their clothes and the amount of modern inventions in the homes. Slipping inside to pick up a handful of coins before moving on was even easier.


    By the time she was approaching the capital the ambient mana density had increased enough to support movement techniques, at least the slow ones. Of course, she was still stuck walking in order to avoid violent confrontations with confused mortals, or more of the local cultivators. The slow speed grated against Laurel¡¯s nerves. The temptation to try something outrageous was always there, but the roads were patrolled by local soldiers, and she was doing her best to avoid any altercations. Imelda would be proud of her for actually employing some subtlety, rather than her more comfortable strategies of smashing her way into wherever she needed to be and trusting herself and her team to handle whatever came next. In the brief periods she stopped to sleep, nightmares of watching the sect being destroyed morphed into Borin¡¯s accusing stare while he burned alive. They would have her waking in a cold sweat and moving on well before sunrise. She let the frustration and sorrow push her towards her new goal. Get out of Laskar and start a sect her way.


    ******


    Laskar City was ¡­ big. Massive industrial furnaces belched fumes into the air, causing a haze to obscure whole swaths of the city. The architecture was all hard lines and large, imposing blocks, looming over citizens as they went about their business. It would have been downright depressing if not for the riot of colors splashed across the walls, in murals depicting the purpose of the buildings, scenes of everyday life, or histories of conquering heroes. Laurel could see a tall spire being used as a sort of dock for the airships, which was admittedly clever.


    The stench was vile. The filth and detritus of at least a million people living in close confines mixed with the industrial fumes to create something uniquely unpleasant. On a central hill, a castle stood over the entire city. Made from the same drab brown stone that was the building material of choice, it prioritized defense over aesthetics. High walls with narrow windows cloaked the edifice. The placement on the hill created an illusion of the castle hovering above the rest of the city, as though the emperor was sitting in judgment, looking down over his subjects. In the distance she could see sunlight glinting off the ocean, and had no problem filling in the details of a busy port in her image of the city.


    The long trek south from Pevin had taught Laurel more about mortal traveling than the rest of her life combined. It was common for the nicer inns to be in the more central districts, which had been surprising. She thought the outskirts, with the fresher air and distance from the never-ending clanking and grinding sounds of factories should have been more popular. Several nights with beds she was unwilling to lie down on had disabused her of this notion, so she trudged towards the city center to find lodging for the next few days. After securing a room at an acceptable inn, she wandered off in the vague direction of the harbor. Also hoping to pick up more information on the political climate, she allowed her route to meander rather than taking the shortest path.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°...fresh from the islands, two for the price of one¡­¡±


    ¡°...Meristan bastards. Those planes ain¡¯t natural¡­¡±


    ¡°...she would be lucky to have you¡­¡±


    Laurel arrived at the harbor finishing the last of the fried dumpling parcels she had purchased from a street vendor for a late lunch. A clash between the world as she knew it and the new technology of this era met her. The ships soared above her head like a gently swaying mountain range, with large cylinders of brass and iron attached like barnacles, venting steam into a clear sky. Most ships had large wheels on the sides or rear, and a few even appeared to be made entirely of metal. Sails were still in abundance however, and she felt heartened by that small piece of familiarity. Sunny days exploring on Martin¡¯s ship were a joyful memory to cling to amidst the uncertain swamp her life had become.


    Dodging stevedores that were yelling in at least 4 different languages, she found a building that looked official. ¡°Port Authority¡± was stamped proudly on a sign above the door. A small bell went off as she pushed her way in. Laurel smiled at the small sign of mortal ingenuity and caught herself. Had she smiled since leaving Pevin? She closed and opened the door a few times to bask in the moment, ignoring some pointed looks from other patrons. A short line had formed in front of a desk and Laurel joined the queue, shamelessly eavesdropping as the people in front of her asked various scheduling questions, registered cargo, and filled out an unending selection of forms while arguing with the assistants.


    ¡°Next!¡± The harried young man at the counter shouted as the sailor in front of Laurel shuffled away. Mutters of ¡°useless¡± floated back as Laurel stepped forward.


    ¡°Good afternoon. I¡¯m looking for a passenger berth on a ship - ¡°


    ¡°List of ships accepting passengers, fees are negotiated directly. Next!¡± The man slammed a piece of paper onto the desk and stared at the person behind her. She narrowed her eyes as a spike of anger threatened to upset her fragile equanimity. Reluctantly, she stepped out of the line. The mortal had been dismissive, but also provided the information she required. The contrast was confusing. She tried valiantly to remember that she was now a sectmaster ¨C even if it was a sect of one ¨C and should be embracing the dignity inherent in such a position. She failed. A gust of wind conveniently blew all the papers off the clerk¡¯s desk as she exited the cramped building.


    The list was helpfully divided by the originating nation and port-city, many of which she had at least heard of thanks to her stolen atlas and general lurking. It was detailed enough that she felt a bit guilty about ruining the man¡¯s organization system. Though if he was more respectful to everyone then she wouldn¡¯t have needed to teach him a lesson.The amount of propaganda being spread around made it difficult to get a good feel for any of the options, but Laurel decided any country the Empire was denouncing was probably a good bet as a starting point. Gauging the general attitude of these countries towards magic was another thing entirely, but she¡¯d heard more than one person grumbling in taverns about how Merista was consorting with magic and demons, which meant it was exactly where she would be heading.


    The international shipping docks took up the south end of the port. Laurel edged around a pair of stern-faced guards manning a customs inspection booth with a polite murmur. Local geography and deep water meant the ships themselves were able to be berthed directly on the quay, rather than anchoring further out. Three large wooden vessels and one of the interesting metal constructions were lined up, two on either side. Men were loading and unloading wooden crates, all stamped with different symbols that she had no way to decipher.


    ¡°Hello!¡± she called up to the first ship.


    A bald man leaned over the rail and shouted something incomprehensible back.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to inquire about passage aboard your ship¡± she persevered, while flashing back to the last time someone spoke a foreign language to her. The man disappeared from view. Laurel looked around, nonplussed. Was there something about her today that made people just dismiss her out of hand? She waited another minute and decided to try on the next ship. As she began to walk away, a new head appeared above the railing.


    ¡°Oy, Lass! You¡¯re looking for passage?¡± The man¡¯s response was heavily accented but she could at least understand this one.


    ¡°That¡¯s correct. The port authority has this ship listed as willing to take on passengers.¡± The man was nodding along with her while she spoke.


    ¡°You¡¯re right there, the captain is willing to pick up passengers, but we¡¯re still on the outward leg of this trip. We¡¯re going down the coast and to the nomad city after this before heading home. If you¡¯re looking to see Merista in the next six months, your best bet is the Lion¡¯s Tooth at the end of the dock.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for the help!¡± Laurel waved at the man as she started towards the indicated ship.


    ¡°Good luck, lass¡± he called after her retreating back.


    The Lion¡¯s Tooth was much the same as the first ship, except when she shouted about passage someone actually came down to talk to her, introducing himself as the boatswain.


    ¡°Aye, we¡¯re bound for our home port after this stop, we leave in a week.¡±


    ¡°Any chance you¡¯re taking passengers?¡± Laurel asked.


    ¡°Sure, we¡¯ve got a couple of berths for sale. No private cabins mind you, so you¡¯ll be sharing.¡± The officer seemed affable, and they haggled a bit to settle on the price.


    ¡°Alright lass, we¡¯ll leave at high tide next Fifthday morning. If you¡¯re late we won¡¯t be waiting for you.¡± The boatswain finished the transaction with a smile and a handshake.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be here,¡± Laurel assured him. She was taken aback at how smoothly the whole process had been. The mortals running things were not respectful as she was used to, but the efficiency was commendable nonetheless. She still needed to pick up a few more coins for the passage and incidentals in her new home before it was time to leave, but luckily enough the countries in question appeared to have a semi-standardized currency system so it should be easy enough to pilfer the rest before her deadline.

 Ch 12 - Final Preparations

    Without any obligations for her final week in the Laskarian Empire, Laurel spent most of it alternately wandering the city and making lists. Lists about what she would need in a new sect location, lists for types of cultivators to recruit, lists about the priority of the other lists. It was an exercise in frustration. Farin had always been the organized one, he could have established a sect in a few months without missing a beat. Laurel was struggling, but failure was not even a consideration. Not again. She had to do this, and she would, and that meant planning ahead. It also had the benefit of keeping her occupied before it was time to leave the city.


    *******


    Laurel puttered around a market as the sun went down. Colorful awnings stretched over tables covered in crafted goods. Clothes, glass bottles, cheeses and preserves, everything someone might need but didn¡¯t have time to make. Eavesdropping had revealed the market was young, having sprung up over the last three decades or so, catering to the portion of the city working all day in the myriad factories. Vendors showed up in the afternoon and stayed until late at night, waiting for those workers to head home. Laurel meandered from stall to stall, occasionally buying some small trinket and tossing it into a canvas bag. The true purpose of her visit, and the lifeblood of the night market, was the gossip that flowed like water between the stallholders and patrons. Even the guards would join in with choice bits of news as they lazily kept an eye on the surroundings. Laurel absorbed the news as she walked, learning as much as possible about the state of the world. She¡¯d surveyed the local bookstores to get a firmer grounding on the political climate, but everything was either too old, or too steeped in Laskarian propaganda to be of any use.


    As the market emptied out, Laurel slowly made her way back towards the inn. The streets were quiet but not empty, and some of the more well-off districts had a light system using a slow-burning oil and wick set into glass lanterns atop poles, which she found rather ingenious. Detestable as the behavior towards cultivators was, she had been forced to admit time and again that the mortals had solved a great many problems with pure ingenuity when magic was not an option.


    A twinge in her spiritual senses gave just a hair of warning when she turned down an alley and another cultivator stepped into the other end. They were dressed in all black, their face hidden by a hood and mask. The absence of any sect markings was expected, but still jarring to her more traditional sensibilities. This stranger was doing nothing to veil their cultivation, or even keep their mana from leaking out. It was a sloppy practice common in the poorly trained. Laurel quickly examined her own veil and found it firmly in place. However they had found her it was not this fool¡¯s doing.


    ¡°Good evening.¡± Laurel broke the silence as it extended into awkwardness. Patience to let others make the first move was not her forte. And besides, she was itching for a fight. She had plenty more rage to vent on cultivators that didn¡¯t know their proper place.


    ¡°Witch, you have been using magic without direct dispensation from the Emperor. You have been observed fomenting trouble in the night markets of the Roskin neighborhood. The punishment for these crimes is death. Rejoice, the Emperor is merciful. Come with us and you will have the opportunity to work towards the glory of the Empire.¡±


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Laurel was dumbstruck. This cultivator, and the half dozen friends she could sense hidden in the surrounding blocks, was no threat to her. And the absolute arrogance to insinuate she would be subborning herself to them, or this so-called Emperor, the people responsible for Borin¡¯s death, was too absurd to comprehend. Almost.


    ¡°No, I won¡¯t be doing that,¡± she replied.


    The stranger paused, obviously expecting her capitulation. Dealing with dismissal was never part of the script that the lackeys were given. At a gesture, the rest of the gang stepped into the alley, all dressed in the same uniform black. Laurel made a show of looking at all of them. Then she flicked her wrist and a sword appeared in her right hand. This fight was personal and she wanted to be in close. The masked cultivators shifted among themselves at the sudden appearance of the weapon. If lights powered by mana were rare in the Empire, spatial storage was probably unheard of.


    Untrained initiates might have submitted in the face of six to one odds. But Laurel was far beyond an initiate, she was angry about the fate of her sect, and she had just been given the perfect targets to take it all out on.


    ¡°If we¡¯re going to fight then let''s fight¡± she announced to the crowd.


    Immediately a few weak wind blades flew towards her face. From behind she could sense an earth spike and a bar of flame, while the rest rushed in with mana reinforcing their arms. Pathetic.


    Laurel jumped directly towards one of her attackers on the right, letting the elemental strikes dissipate harmlessly against each other. Her sword slid in between ribs, and the cultivator slumped to the ground. The others didn¡¯t hesitate. Another round of weak techniques came towards her, the cultivators keeping their distance. Wearing down an enemy from afar while avoiding close combat was a good strategy, in theory. Instead, a flex of Laurel¡¯s will had her taking control and dismantling their attacks. While they attempted to recover, she closed in again. Her blade flashed and two more enemies fell.


    The final three tried to run. In another time she would have let them go. But she was alone in a hostile country where common weapons were dangerous to her and these people had at least claimed to work for the Empire. They had gotten a good look at her as well, and she still had a few days before the Lion¡¯s Tooth departed. With a grimace, she leapt after the retreating cultivators. Two more were butchered in an instant. At this point Laurel¡¯s anger had been replaced by shame. Combat and death was a part of cultivation. Adversity often paved the way forward, but butchering those weaker than her was not how she wanted to walk her path. They had attacked her first, but they didn¡¯t pose any true danger to her.


    The final imperial was facing her now, resigned. The same cultivator that had first spoken.


    ¡°How did you notice me?¡± Laurel decided to get directly to the point and see if this initiate had any useful information. They stood in silence until Laurel tried again. ¡°Why do you work for the Emperor, where are the sects?¡± More silence ¡°Why is no one cultivating the City Core?¡± This last question had been on her mind since arrival. The coalesced node within the massive mana flows of a population center this large needed careful tending so that beast manifestations or mana storms didn¡¯t occur in the middle of the city. The excess mana should be turned towards reinforcing structures or providing protection, but the core here was uncultivated, and the mana was reaching violent levels from the crush of humanity packed into the city.


    Laurel had no stomach for torturing this stranger. When she was again met with silence she flicked her blade out one last time and the cultivator joined the rest on the ground.

 Ch 13 - Found At Sea

    Laurel placed her game piece down and leaned back to study her opponent. A fellow passenger, Beram had declared she couldn¡¯t arrive in Merista without learning how to play byd, and had promptly taken it upon himself to teach her.


    ¡°You¡¯re improving¡± the weathered man said while moving one of his own pieces across the board. ¡°But I do believe that¡¯s the game.¡±


    Both travelers proceeded to pack the game pieces back into the case. They sat back to enjoy the silence and each other¡¯s company. The sea had been calm for the two weeks of their journey, and Laurel could feel the peace and the company calming the storm in her soul. The captain had allowed a small table and chairs to be clipped onto an out of the way portion of the deck for Laurel and Beram to use, and to keep them out of the sailor¡¯s way. Most days they spent playing games, or sharing stories of two long lives well lived.


    ¡°So, old man, are you finally going to tell me why you¡¯re heading to Merista?¡± With little to do on the journey besides picking up the language, Laurel had taken to wheedling information out of everyone else on the ship. Especially how the steam stacks worked and why there was a faint trace of rudimentary enchanting in the engine room. She¡¯d been curious to meet the only other passenger, and had been rewarded with descriptions of his adventures as a mercenary before retiring to join a smaller city guard several years before.


    ¡°Not much to it I¡¯m afraid, lass. There are always rumblings about the Empire looking to go to war. Country that big, it''s almost inevitable they have a conflict going somewhere. Don¡¯t usually put much store by those rumors, but those whispers started taking on a different flavor. Started hearing the more credible folks and the old-timers saying there might be war with Merista, or Elgin. Then the papers start talking about how magic is evil and the Meristans are harboring demons. I saw what way the wind was blowing and decided it was time to head home.¡±


    Laurel frowned at the explanation. ¡°I don¡¯t understand how they think they¡¯ll handle beast waves or manifestations without more cultivators managing the cities. There are just too many people to avoid those, and guns won¡¯t work on everything.¡±


    Beram had been fascinated to learn Laurel was a magic-user, and had gotten an explanation of her own story, along with the dangers she was anticipating, in the first week on the ship. Laurel was bad at secrets. Given she was intending to establish a sect of magic users, she saw little use in trying. ¡°I suppose we¡¯ll find out, but I¡¯m glad I won¡¯t be in the thick of it. That is if your plan to avoid the same thing in Merista works out. If not we might all be in for some interesting times.¡±


    They lapsed back into companionable silence. The day was clear and they could see uninterrupted dark water all the way out to the horizon. The sunlight glittering off the waves revealed an unnatural pattern.


    ¡°Look there¡± Laurel said as she pointed off into the distance. ¡°Do you see that patch where the sunlight looks heavier?¡± Beram squinted as he tried to pick out what Laurel was pointing at.


    Before he could answer Laurel flung herself off the side of the ship. The air currents diverted to carry her over to the patch of ocean in a smooth glide. The ability to finally return to the air after so long on the ground had been like dropping a weight she hadn¡¯t realized she carried. The freedom to indulge on the voyage, without hostile empires around, was one she¡¯d taken full advantage of. She smiled at the patch of ocean but resisted dropping in. Getting her clothes and hair covered in salt water was not a great idea on a ship without freshwater crystals installed. Deep below the surface, shadows darted between the sparkling plant life. A nascent water-attuned natural treasure was in the process of forming below, and it would anchor the whole magical ecosystem in place. Satisfied with the signs that the world was healing, she flew back towards the ship.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Beram asked when he rejoined her. Several of the sailors that had been on deck were in furious discussion, gesturing at Laurel and then the air.


    ¡°It looks like the beginnings of a diamond kelp forest! A year from now this place will be an absolute gold mine for water or life cultivators. I¡¯m surprised it''s so well-developed with the ambient mana situation, but I suppose areas like this have been acting as mana reservoirs while the levels have been so low.¡± Laurel¡¯s eyes gleamed at the thought of what else might be hidden around the world after centuries with no cultivators harvesting. She whipped out a notebook to record this forest and wrote ¡®search for mana ecosystems¡¯ before ripping the page off and returning everything to her tattoo.


    ¡°Magic seaweed?¡± Beram was significantly less enthused by the prospect.


    ¡°More or less. They pop up sometimes at eddies in larger mana flows. Left alone a whole ecosystem of spirit beasts, plants, and natural treasures will form. Figuring out a way to harvest anything in the middle of the ocean without your ship being attacked is good fun for adepts or the enterprising initiate.¡±


    Beram glanced at Laurel out of the corner of his eye. ¡°I¡¯m not sure you and I were raised on the same definition of ¡®good fun¡¯.¡±


    They both laughed and continued to chat as the steamship pulled further and further away from the burgeoning forest.


    ******


    Laurel and Beram were wandering the deck to stretch their legs when they happened upon the captain and first mate in heavy discussion in their customary spot.


    Laurel opened her mouth to greet the men when Beram cut her off with a grave look.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± he said. Laurel noticed the frowns the two sailors wore. She tensed and spread her senses out as far as she could push them.


    ¡°We spotted another ship last night. It¡¯s below the horizon now but it seems to be following our course.¡±


    Beram flashed a grim smile, apparently having guessed something similar. ¡°It''s pirates then?¡±


    The two officers shared a speaking look.


    ¡°It''s hard to say for certain until they make a move,¡± the captain finally answered. ¡°Could be pirates, could be privateers from another merchant company or the Empire, or it could be harmless.¡± Beram raised his eyebrows at this last option. ¡°Either way I¡¯d appreciate it if you could both be ready. You both indicated you were combat capable when you came on board. I don¡¯t really want to push paying customers into service, but, well, if they attempt a boarding it will be all hands on deck.¡±


    Laurel and Beram both readily gave their assent and the officers wandered off. They settled in to wait, staring out at the horizon for the hint of another ship. When nothing appeared after a while they started setting up another game of byd to while away the time.


    ¡°You seemed unsurprised at the news from the Captain¡± Laurel said as she made an opening gambit.


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    ¡°I¡¯ve been around for a long time, lass. The shipping lanes that go directly between Laskar and Merista are always prone to attacks. When tensions are high, neither country likes sending their warships into no man¡¯s land on patrol, so it makes the run even riskier. It cuts off months of the journey though so a lot of captains do it anyway.¡± Beram seemed nonchalant about the whole thing.


    ¡°Captain Stark and his men seem capable enough, plus of course they have you and I to help out in a pinch,¡± Laurel said with a wink. They relaxed into their usual chatter as the day wore on.


    By midday, the other ship had appeared over the horizon and began to close the distance. Tensions on board increased as the deck hands stowed any extra items that might get in the way of a fight. One had politely asked to remove the passenger table and chairs as well, so Laurel and Beram were left leaning against the rail.


    Bandoliers and cutlasses appeared on the sailors. Beram excused himself to go gather his own pistols from his cabin.


    ¡°How have they been gaining on us?¡± Laurel asked as they waited for the inevitable.


    ¡°Hmm. Lighter ship, and their steam engine is built for speed. The Tooth here is built for long hauls without stops to refuel.¡±


    The strange ship was finally close enough that they could make out details without one of the sailor¡¯s telescopes. It was nothing special, though Laurel noted it was built along slim lines to cut easier through the water. No obvious markings or flags pointed at a home port or country.


    The Lion¡¯s Tooth raised a yellow flag beneath where the Meristan crest was already flying above the steam stacks.


    ¡°Yellow means the captain is going to consider them hostile if they get any closer.¡± Beram pointed out.


    ¡°How will that work then? Do we wait for them to get close enough to board then fight them off? Why not attack now?¡±


    Beram looked at her askance. ¡°Appreciate the eagerness, lass, but we¡¯ll start with warning shots from the cannons.¡±


    Before Laurel could ask for more details, the air was filled with the thunder of multiple explosions. Projectiles went speeding towards the other ship, while just a moment later, the other ship fired on the Lion¡¯s Tooth. Huge splashes sent water high into the air. Shouts echoed across the deck in some sort of shorthand as sailors began running to new positions.


    ¡°That was to dial in the aiming,¡± Beram said. The man¡¯s usually cheerful demeanor had become steely as he watched unflinchingly, despite the chaos that had just erupted. ¡°The next shots will likely hit on both sides, unless the gunners are drunk and blind.¡±


    ¡°Do you think the sailors will be upset if I use magic?¡± Laurel was cataloging her usual techniques to figure out what might work against the pirates. She was hampered by having to avoid their guns, and the mana levels were still low, but she had some options that would work. No matter how far mortal engineering had come, no one keeps fighting after being struck by lightning.


    ¡°No lass, sailors are a superstitious bunch. Most of the ones on our side will think it''s lucky they have a witch on board. And as good a bunch as these lads are, they¡¯re merchants, not soldiers. If we can keep the pirates from boarding for a close fight we should.¡±


    Another round of cannon fire rocked the ship. This time, accompanied by cracking wood. Splinters flew through the air along with screams of one sailor that had been close to the impact spot.


    The Tooth¡¯s sailors took positions kneeling behind the railings.


    ¡°Alright boys¡± the first mate bellowed from the forecastle. ¡°Take aim, fire!¡±


    Curses sounded from the pirate ship along with an answering volley. The metallic tang of blood filled the air as more sailors on both ships were blown back. Laurel tuned out the mayhem and reached her senses across to the other boat. Exerting her will on the ambient mana, she gripped and mentally twisted. Steamers of wind picked up lighter splinters and began to fling them around. As the wind continued to swirl faster and faster, a small tornado formed on the deck of the pirate ship. The attackers scattered, taking cover anywhere they could find as more and more debris was caught up. Vague shouts about demons could be heard across the gap between the boats, causing Laurel a certain amount of pride, even as she congratulated herself on the subtlety. After all, the ship was still afloat.


    The captain wasted no time taking advantage of the distraction. With more shouted commands, one final barrage of cannonballs hit the pirate ships¡¯ steam stacks. An ear-splitting crack preceded a sudden lull in noise as everyone paused in their actions. A large sheet of metal peeled off and fell from the stack onto the deck of the pirate ship.


    Having waited for this signal, the Lion¡¯s Tooth began pulling away from the pirate ship, quickly gaining speed with the steam engine roaring. Laurel did her part by directing a strong wind into the sails, and they were soon out of range of the pirate¡¯s cannons. She clapped Beram on the shoulder as they watched the enemy ship recede into the distance.


    ¡°A good battle,¡± she declared.


    ¡°We were lucky.¡± Beram countered. ¡°Some pirate companies send small armadas after merchant ships like this one. We escaped one ship but any more and it could have been a massacre.¡±


    ¡°In my time, wandering cultivators would make money by signing on to protect ships like this one, or merchant caravans overland. Maybe I¡¯ll bring that back. Of course, back then mortal weapons would never have been a threat, and a single capable cultivator would turn most ships back on their own.¡±


    Laurel and Beram turned their focus to the rest of the ship. Lucky they may have been, but there were still sailors clutching various body parts to try and staunch their wounds, and one or two that had descended into shock, staring blankly ahead. Laurel made her way over to the Captain who was giving a nonstop string of orders to repair damage, maintain a lookout, and put distance between them and the pirates.


    ¡°Captain - ¡°


    ¡°Apologies ma¡¯am,¡± he cut her off, ¡° but we need to focus here.¡±


    ¡°Captain,¡± she tried again, ¡°I believe I can help heal some of the sailors.¡±


    ¡°Well, get to it, lass!¡±. He shouted over his shoulder as he scrambled up the ladder to the next deck.


    The injured had gathered towards one end of the ship where an older man with a neatly-trimmed gray beard and a tan apron was organizing them along with a harried assistant. He had barely glanced back at her before gesturing to the other end of the line.


    ¡°If you¡¯re here to help, start there,¡± he said.


    When no more instruction was forthcoming, Laurel made her way to the sailor she¡¯d been sent to. Cultivation was a dangerous lifestyle, and no one made it through a sect education without learning how to heal at least basic injuries. She could splint a limb or seal a wound as well as anyone. Laurel reached the first man and set to work.


    They continued to heal and repair as they continued on their way. Despite the tension left by the attack, they made it to Merista without any more excitement.


    **********


    ¡°So this here¡¯s the firebox. Our coalies are good lads, keep us moving along in top form.¡± The chief engineer on the Lion¡¯s Tooth was a stout woman named Claudette.


    The engine room was sweltering but the woman was still covered neck to toe in thick, treated cloth. Only her head was bare, hair shorn close to her scalp. All to avoid any stray sparks, as Claudette had happily informed Laurel.


    ¡°And through here is the bit you¡¯re interested in.¡±


    They arrived at a thick metal door, bolted and locked in three places. A pane of glass at around eye level ¨C for someone taller than Laurel ¨C revealed a tiny room with a metal contraption attached to a glowing stone. Pipes lead from the stone back towards the rest of the engine.


    She swept her spiritual senses through the room, as Claudette made no move to open the door. Laurel would describe her enchanting as basic at best. A few of her acquaintances might have gone with ¡°dismal¡± or ¡°pathetic¡± instead. So it was a surprise that she actually recognized the power source. It wasn¡¯t an enchantment, at least not exactly. These types of items were considered too basic to actually count as enchanted.


    It was a heat stone. Just a chunk of crystalized mana, created by any cultivator with their meridians burned in, infused with will to give off heat. In the same realm as a glow stone or other basic device, which was then being piped as best they could to alleviate the need for coal in the engine. Laurel could create something like that without any trouble. Though this example was old and barely functional. She could see where mana was being lost and the stone itself was degrading. Her hopes that there was a thriving collection of cultivators in this new country was dashed. This was a relic someone had gotten lucky finding, and then gotten clever in figuring out a way to use.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what Claudette, I¡¯m impressed.¡± The other woman preened at the compliment. ¡°If you and the captain are willing to let me in there, I¡¯ll do a quick repair, make sure your power source works for a long time to come.¡±


    After some waffling back and forth, and a long consultation with the captain, they decided the good will she¡¯d earned in the fight could be spent on this. They let her into the room, both Claudette and the captain crowding in behind her. It was not a room that fit three people. More of a cubby really. Laurel got to work. The ambient mana levels meant it was a slow process. Focusing on the stone, she pulled the mana towards it, careful not to overtax the surroundings. She urged the mana to give off heat, while keeping the stone stable. The framework was there, she just filled it in. Reflexively she added a way to turn the effect off. The same function had once existed, she was fairly certain, but it had worn away over time. One of the reasons for the well-insulated pipes and separate room, most likely.


    When it was as good as it was going to get, she stepped back. Laurel was rather pleased with herself and let it show. Claudette swarmed over the fire stone, pulling instruments from various pockets and taking readings. The captain, perhaps realizing that there would be nothing from his engineer for some time, ushered Laurel back out.


    ¡°I appreciate that lass, and what you did against the pirates. So how about we call it even on the second half of your fare.¡±


    ¡°I was happy to do it, Captain, but I won¡¯t say no to the discount. New start to finance and all that. Thank you for a good crossing.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, lass. Now get up top. First sight of Verilia¡¯s not something you want to miss.¡±

 Ch 14 - Arrival

    Verilia was a far cry from Laskar City. The first glimpse Laurel had of the Meristan capital was a glittering palace sat atop cliffs jutting above the horizon, soaring towers connected by delicately arched bridges in pale gray stone. A pack of large ships, outfitted for war, were docked at the base of the cliffs like loyal guard dogs. Glass reflected the sunlight and made it almost too difficult to look directly at the palace on the approach. Laurel even felt a faint sense of enchantment coming from the edifice, though it was weak by her standards for a ruler¡¯s residence. Looking closely she could discern tunnels with smaller boats entering them, while defensive weaponry poked out from hidden caves further up. The palace being difficult to look at directly might be one more defensive measure woven amongst the rest.


    The Lion¡¯s Tooth swung past the battleships and the rest of the city and port came into view. A waterfall of humanity cascaded down from the top of the cliffs. Close to the base, the harbor was deep enough for large merchant vessels, while further away she saw a section for smaller fishing craft and a more enclosed section for what could only be the pleasure yachts of the rich and powerful. Set back from the docks were towers, each with bold designs picked out in colorful mosaics. A roaring dragon, a phoenix, and a flock of sparrows adorned the closest. Floating above and attached with thick cables were airships of wildly varied designs. The most eye-catching was sleek black, with gold painted filigrees covering the bottom. Others were less spectacular, from small ships barely a handful of meters long and built for speed, to ponderous whales that could hold full battalions of soldiers.


    A blocky fort dominated the view to the south, built in the same pale stone of the palace. Where the palace was a work of art, defense was the main ¨C and only ¨C consideration of this construction. No walls surrounded the city, and Laurel tore out a page from her notebook, scrawling ¡®defensive options¡¯ across the top. Her sect was not going to live in a place practically begging a beast wave to ravage it. Overall it was a hopeful sight, a good place to start over. Or she was projecting what she desperately needed to believe.


    Between everything was a sea of people. It was far and away the largest city Laurel had ever seen. Even without focusing her spiritual sense, the turbulence of the ambient mana was close to overwhelming, and she felt the pressure like an oncoming sinus headache. If the world¡¯s mana density continued to approach past levels, this city would be attracting enough beasts to make the waves of monsters that challenged her old sect look like a children¡¯s game. The combined sensory information was too much, but she focused on the positive. Somewhere amongst so many mortals would have to be a few worth recruiting.


    The smell of ash and humanity mixed with the salt air and dead fish had Laurel gagging as they docked at their assigned berth. After making their farewells to the crew, she entered the city with Beram. The passage had been pleasant, but weeks of forced inactivity left Laurel frantic. Every moment she spent on the ship added to the feeling of falling behind humming just beneath the surface. The real work was yet to begin. A torturously long stop at a customs and currency exchange house and they were officially able to move freely throughout Merista.


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    ¡°So what¡¯s next?¡± Beram asked as they moved further from the busy port and into the dockside neighborhoods.


    ¡°I¡¯ll seek an audience with the king. I can already tell no one is cultivating the City Core here, and I¡¯d bet that means there aren¡¯t any locals capable of dealing with the situation. We need to get it under control before high tier beasts start assaulting the city. It should be enough to strike a deal. Honestly, with this many people they¡¯re lucky I¡¯m here.¡± Laurel¡¯s voice was full of conviction but the expression on her face revealed she was aware just how daunting those goals were. ¡°You¡¯re off into the mountains? Are you sure I can¡¯t convince you to become a cultivator? I¡¯m sure we could make use of someone with your experience.¡± Privately Laurel added he was a man that could handle himself if enemies followed her here.


    Beram chuckled. ¡°I appreciate the offer, but I¡¯m past my days of adventure. My brother and his family have a smallhold near Gulronne Peak. I¡¯ve spent so long traveling and living abroad, it¡¯s time to be home for a while. Get to know the nieces and nephews.¡± They reached a road wide enough for at least four carriages to ride abreast. ¡°This is the Via Merista, it starts at the palace, runs through the city, and becomes one of the major north-south routes for the whole country. Call it the highway if you don¡¯t want to be clocked as a foreigner. If you follow it about a third of the way up the hill you¡¯ll find some honest inns with reasonable prices. Reasonable for the city, anyway.¡±


    ¡°This is where we say goodbye then.¡± Laurel looked at the grizzled man. She might be older, but Beram had taught her a great deal about this new world she had been thrust into. And reminded her she was capable of something beyond rage or numbness. They embraced with good natured laughs and back slaps.


    ¡°Alright lass, if things don¡¯t work out here you can find me at Gulronne.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t think you¡¯re getting away that easy old man. You¡¯ll be hearing from me.¡±


    He turned, hoisted his pack further up his back, and set off towards the city limits. Laurel watched until he was merged into the crowd of other Meristans. A new brother-in-arms was a good omen for a new beginning.


    The palace was no longer visible from where she stood in the dockside area. The view from this angle was less about soaring architecture and more solid practicality.Well-worn buildings with no frills, but built to withstand whatever came to pass. She reached out without looking and smacked away the hand of an ambitious pickpocket.


    ¡°Nice try,¡± she said without turning.


    Nonetheless there was a smile on her face as she began the walk up the highway.


    The past months had been filled with earth-shaking revelations and heartbreak, new friends and new responsibilities. Now that she¡¯d found a place that publicly accepted cultivators, if weak ones, re-establishing the sect was just around the corner.

 Ch 15 - Adventures in Bureaucracy

    ¡°Hello! I¡¯ve come to see the king to discuss the world''s changing mana tapestry as well as the re-establishment of my order within the country. May I ask what appointments are available?¡±


    ¡°No¡±. The functionary didn¡¯t even look up from the page he was writing on.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°No, you may not ask, the king will not be seeing you.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    With a sigh, the man carefully placed his pen back into the shockingly violet inkwell and looked up for the first time. ¡°The king does not have time to meet with every delusional crackpot that wanders in off the street with ¡®important information¡¯ to give him. Honestly,¡± he sniffed, ¡°most people at least put the effort into a more believable story to start from.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Laurel said.


    She did not see. Once again she was slapped in the face with how much she relied on the prestige and authority of her sect and status as a master cultivator. Without it she floundered. None of that was going to help her here.


    ¡°You are holding up the line.¡± The abrupt dismissal cut off the next argument Laurel had prepared. Attempting to keep any face that remained, she departed rather than rail at the man in front of the crowd of other petitioners.


    Laurel took her time on the way out, nodding in appreciation of the public galleries and well-laid out gardens. These Meristans were orderly and formal, even the fact there was a process to seek a royal audience betrayed the fact. She needed to plan. Her skillset didn¡¯t normally bend itself to navigating complex bureaucracy. The last time she needed to talk to a monarch on behalf of her sect, she simply announced herself at the palace and was escorted in. To instead be departing in absolute defeat was nothing short of shameful.


    She had shown up to this first engagement under-prepared and unarmed. Next time the gatekeepers would not find her so easy to turn away.


    Her first step was clear. If she was to do battle against the bureaucracy of a kingdom, she would need allies.


    *******


    Deeply recessed windows stared down at Laurel from an edifice the length of a city block. Thick oak doors were propped open with decorative vases taller than she was, the bustle and shouts from a busy enterprise echoed out into the street.


    ¡°Is it supposed to look like it¡¯s trying to eat people?¡± Laurel said aloud.


    ¡°It belonged to the bounty hunters guild before the scribes took over the building, so I expect they appreciated the ambiance.¡± Laurel turned to see that the man she had thought was asleep against the building behind her had helpfully provided an answer.


    ¡°Hopefully the scribes are a bit easier to deal with than the bounty hunters.¡±


    The scruffy man raised a scruffy eyebrow. ¡°Good luck with that, lass.¡±


    The main room of the Scribes Guild was a sea of desks set in neat rows. Men and women were busy reading from towering stacks of reference material or furiously drafting documents. The room was paneled in bookshelves and a few children stood in the corners, jumping into action to retrieve a tome whenever one of the scribes shouted out a title. Three levels of balconies ringed the higher floors. Her imagination filled in private offices for senior members and a quick scan with her spiritual senses confirmed it.


    Laurel waded through the controlled chaos to a bank of elevated desks at the back of the room. She dodged a few running children until she reached the steps leading to the dais. A dark-haired man with a neatly trimmed beard at the end of the row waved her over.


    ¡°Good afternoon. How may we at the Scribes¡¯ Guild be of assistance today?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m looking to hire someone for legal advice and maybe some procedural know-how, particularly with respect to royal communication and intervention.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± The scribe looked Laurel up and down briefly and pursed his lips. ¡°What merchant house do you represent?¡±


    ¡°None.¡± Laurel took on a questioning tone at the non sequitur.


    ¡°A noble house then? Or a certified member of a different guild? I didn¡¯t notice a crest anywhere but if you can provide proof of association we can work something out.¡±


    The sound of pens scratching had slowed. Out of the corner of her eye Laurel noticed the closest junior scribes straining to here while pretending to continue with their work.


    ¡°I am not associated with any noble house or guild.¡± Laurel declared, becoming more frustrated with the administrator as the conversation continued.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid the Scribes¡¯ Guild only offers services to those members of a recognized guild in good standing, or the nobility. We won¡¯t be able to offer you any contracts today.¡±


    Laurel¡¯s hands slammed down onto the desk


    ¡°Is every small man at a big desk in this country just looking for reasons not to do their job!? I am a master cultivator of the Eternal Archive. I have traded fortunes your merchants can¡¯t imagine, and left armies of nobles cowed in my wake. I have crossed an ocean and a continent to save your pathetic life, along with everyone else in this stars-cursed city, and you are telling me that I can¡¯t get anyone to fill out some fucking forms?¡±


    Silence filled the massive chamber, spreading in a wave from Laurel and the scribe cowering in front of her. She fought to bring her breathing back under control. Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment under the pity and derision of these mortals. She whipped around to stare down the scribes, all of whom found something fascinating on their desks to redirect their attention to.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry miss. I¡¯m not able to countermand guild policy.¡± The formerly bored man kept looking to the sides as though asking his fellow scribes to step in and save him.


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    ¡°Fine.¡± Laurel bit out. ¡°Is there anyone in this city that would be able to help?¡±


    The man looked over his shoulder as if he was contemplating fleeing down the hallway behind the desks. ¡°Members of the Scribes¡¯ Guild are the only licensed individuals set up to provide independent legal advice to citizens.Anyone else is not guaranteed to have any qualifications.¡±


    One deep breath later Laurel was striding back out of the guildhall and down the cobbled street.


    ¡°Hey, hey lady!¡± Laurel looked over her shoulder to see a child running to catch up with her, wearing the uniform of the guild she¡¯d just stormed out of.


    ¡°Yes?¡± Laurel snapped.


    The girl reared back. ¡°The scribes don¡¯t like helping common folks, but you should look for Mr. Adam.¡±


    Feeling bad for scaring the child, Laurel decided to play along. ¡°Who is Mr. Adam?¡±


    ¡°He used to work at the guild but he doesn¡¯t anymore. He lives over in the Cartine District with the specialty shops. He might help you if he hasn¡¯t found a new job yet.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for the tip.¡± She smiled and turned to go when the girl coughed and held out an empty palm. Laurel snorted and flicked a coin. Quick as a flash she ran back up the street towards the Scribes¡¯ Guild.


    ********


    The bookshop door was warped from the sea air, and needed some force for Laurel to shove it open and step inside. She was immediately confronted by an argument between a man waving a broom and a well-dressed gentleman with a rather bushy mustache.


    ¡°Why would we carry that drivel? You may as well toss the letters at the printing press and hope for the best. You¡¯ll end up with the same result. These two-penny novels are ruining literature. The plots are derivative, and the characters are just self-insert fantasies of the hack authors.¡±


    ¡°You see if I ever spend another coin in this shop!¡± The mustached man stormed out leaving Laurel and the clerk alone amongst the books.


    After visiting what felt like every tavern, apartment, sharehouse, and public building in the Cartine District, she had finally discovered ¡°Adam who used to work for the scribes guild¡± was now a shopkeeper. She now had some inkling as to why he might have been asked to leave the guild.


    He pasted on a fake smile as he turned to Laurel. ¡°Welcome to Hook¡¯s Books, how can I help you today?¡±


    Laurel wandered the shop, skimming the titles on the shelves as she replied. ¡°I find myself in need of legal expertise, and someone who can help me establish a new kind of organization, fill out all the right licenses, handle contracts, that kind of thing ¨C¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Adam interrupted, ¡°And I bet those stooges at the Scribes¡¯ Guild told you to get lost?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡±


    ¡°The thing is, there¡¯s a reason the guild is the only game in town. If it gets out that I helped you, they can make it difficult for me to find work with anyone affiliated with the Merchants¡¯ Guild. And lady, that¡¯s pretty much anywhere you might get a decent living. I might be able to go to some other city and work as a tutor but it would be a risk. Otherwise I would be stuck in some backbreaking factory or hauling cargo off ships. And these hands are not made for that kind of labor.¡±


    Footsteps sounded down the back staircase. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s why I recommend Persaud¡¯s Treatise of Economic Theory.¡± Adam said in a stilted, formal manner, pulling a book off the shelf and handing it to Laurel.


    ¡°Er, thank you, I¡¯ll take it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to get some new inventory Adam, you have the shop for now!¡± Another voice shouted as a door slammed.


    ¡°Sorry about that¡± Adam returned to a normal volume. ¡°The boss won¡¯t like hearing me talk about other jobs.¡±


    ¡°So you aren¡¯t interested?¡± Laurel¡¯s frustration was returning.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that, but now isn¡¯t a great time. Meet at The Boar¡¯s Head at sixth bell and we¡¯ll talk.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be there,¡± Laurel said.


    ¡°Also I need you to buy Persaud¡¯s Treatise. 20 silver.¡± Adam said without a trace of self-consciousness.


    ******


    A waitress thunked two mugs of ale down alongside two bowls of steaming stew topped with chopped herbs and a small loaf of bread before hurrying back towards the kitchen.


    ¡°So,¡± Adam began after a large swig, ¡°tell me what you¡¯re actually trying to do here.¡±


    ¡°What do you know about magic?¡± Laurel could tell there were enchanted items in the city but she had yet to see or notice another cultivator.


    The spoon paused in midair on its journey to Adam¡¯s mouth. ¡°Magic?¡±


    ¡°Magic.¡± Laurel confirmed.


    ¡°Umm. I know Granny said not to mess with the local hedge witches. And I know there are some sort of magic rocks in the fastest steamships, and the army¡¯s planes. That¡¯s about it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll start at the beginning then. I was born a long time ago, I¡¯m still not sure exactly how long but centuries at least. The world at that time was full of people who used magic, which we called cultivation. I was locked away at the same time something disrupted the underlying magic of the whole planet.


    ¡°A few months ago, I woke up in the northwestern frontier of the Laskarian Empire to find the world''s magic was changing dramatically.¡±


    ¡°Wait a moment,¡± Adam¡¯s apparent interrupting habit couldn¡¯t be suppressed even with what sounded like the plot of a cheap novel. ¡°You¡¯re saying you¡¯ve been alive for hundreds of years and are some sort of special witch. And you were in the middle of the place that likes calling us perverts for not killing witches on sight?¡± He let out a low whistle. ¡°Lady, if you¡¯re telling the truth that is a whole lot heavier than I know what to do with.¡±


    Laurel waved her hand in the air, ¡°That¡¯s more or less correct. And of course I¡¯m telling the truth, I¡¯ll prove it to you later. Anyway, I traveled back to my sect, but it turns out everyone there had died in the same cataclysm that left me trapped.¡± She surprised herself by getting choked up but forged on anyway, while Adam patted her hand looking distinctly uncomfortable. ¡°I tried to start over in a small town, found an apprentice. When they found out they killed him.¡±


    It took a few minutes and the rest of her pint before Laurel could go any further. She would not shame herself by breaking down in front of strangers. Adam proved himself wiser than he seemed by focusing on his dinner until she was able to continue.


    ¡°I found out more about what was happening to the world. In simple terms, the magic had been cut off and now it''s flooding back in. Imagine damming a river. Over time the dam wears down, springs a few leaks, and after a while, the whole thing crumbles and the river comes roaring back. Anything standing in the dry riverbed at that point is in trouble.


    ¡°That¡¯s what¡¯s happening to the world right now. Mana is flooding back into the world, and soon we¡¯ll be back to where we were before. But from what I¡¯ve seen, there¡¯s no infrastructure in place to deal with any of it. That much mana will bring dangerous beasts and phenomena, and they¡¯ll all be drawn to large populations of people.


    ¡°My plan is to work with the king here to re-establish my sect in exchange for training new cultivators to deal with these threats.¡±


    Adam continued to eat in silence. Laurel didn¡¯t push him, it was quite a lot to wrap your mind around at first.


    ¡°Well, it''s a mighty fine story.¡± He finally said.


    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± Laurel insisted. ¡°If you¡¯re done eating, I¡¯m happy to provide proof.¡±


    Adam narrowed his eyes. ¡°Fine. There¡¯s a park a few blocks over, let''s see some magic.¡±


    *****


    They looked around furtively and confirmed they were alone in the small park. Laurel pointed at a nearby shrub.


    ¡°Son of a whore!¡± Adam shouted as the plant burst into flames. He watched, slack jawed, as the flames changed color, then morphed into the shape of a swan, before pretending to fly away and fading into nothing.


    ¡°How¡¯s that for proof?¡± Laurel¡¯s smile was smug. She hadn¡¯t spent much time on magic for magic¡¯s sake recently and she missed it.


    ¡°Convincing. At least on the magic front. It doesn¡¯t really prove anything about impending doom that only you can save us from. ¡±


    Wind stirred the ashes of Laurel¡¯s unfortunate plant victim as laughter poured from open doors of the nearby tavern. She wracked her thoughts for any way to convince a mortal with no mana sense to speak of that she was speaking the truth.


    Reluctantly, she pulled out a flat piece of crystal. Adam started when the object appeared from nowhere.


    ¡°Where did that come from?¡±


    Laurel ignored him as she stared at the tablet. ¡°This is the last memory of one of the fallen grandmasters of my sect. Understand that I would not normally allow anyone outside of the sect to see such secrets.¡± She held it out to Adam. He took it carefully, recognizing the gravitas in Laurel¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°How does this work?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll create the link since you don¡¯t have the control to reach out and connect with the mana stored inside the structure of the crystal. Try to relax your mind.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean relax my mind ¨C¡±


    Laurel reached out with her spiritual senses and hooked a thread of the unstructured mana within Adam into the tablet. She watched as he experienced the destruction of her sect and all the emotions Grandmaster Florin had imbued into the memory.


    Having meditated on the Grandmaster''s words throughout her journey, Laurel recognized the expressions that crossed Adam¡¯s face like the beats of a familiar play. The terror, the resignation, and the overwhelming sorrow. Finally he resurfaced from the memory, tears streaming down his face.


    ¡°That was horrible. And I don¡¯t think I understood most of it. But I can see that if it''s all true, we¡¯re going to be in a whole heap of trouble soon.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not wrong. Are you willing to help? Of course I¡¯ll be willing to pay you.¡±


    His hesitation turned to eagerness at this last bit. ¡°You mean if I join up I get paid and I can learn all about magic?¡± He gestured to the charred shrub. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll help you get an audience with the king.¡±


    ¡°Excellent, we can start tomorrow.¡±


    Adam held a hand up to interrupt. ¡°Now hold on a second. Let''s talk about those fees. Hook may be a bastard but the clerk position is steady work, if I¡¯m eventually leaving the shop, you need to make it worth my while.¡±

 Ch 16 -The Power of Friendship

    ¡°Okay, let''s hear the whole story, from the beginning.¡± Adam was sitting poised with a notebook and pen in the taproom of the inn where Laurel had taken a room. It was early enough in the day they were alone except for a man slumped over a table in the corner, snoring.


    Laurel proceeded to tell her story, starting from why she had been visiting the Tranquil Earth sect in the first place, up through her adventures on the passage from Laskar, and the initial failed petition.


    ¡°That¡¯s where your problem is. The palace bureaucrats are notoriously strict for the proper protocols. If you just needed help with a land dispute or construction work they would have pointed you to the right people. A meeting with the king, that would need to be perfect before they¡¯ll even try.¡±


    ¡°Good thing I have you to help me for next time then.¡± Laurel said. ¡°What forms do we need to fill out to make this happen?¡±


    ¡°It depends.¡± Adam fiddled with the pen for a moment. ¡°I think first we need to establish the best way to approach. Should we aim to be classified as a new kind of school, or as merchants, or mercenaries?¡±


    ¡°You think?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while, I¡¯m out of practice. But we definitely need some sort of approach hammered out before anything else.


    ¡°None of those options you listed are really what a sect is about.¡± Laurel was feeling defensive about classifying her sect as anything as common as a merchant company. They strove to transcend limits, to become a paragon of their beliefs to the wider cosmos. Money was a side effect, not the goal.


    ¡°Sure, sure, but those are the kinds of licenses we can use to establish legitimacy to operate in the city. Otherwise we¡¯re stuck with the Flats and other people too poor for proper guilds. Do you have anything we can use to organize?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve been trying to do better about writing things down since I¡¯ve been alone,¡± Laurel announced proudly. She waved her hands and a pile of loose papers appeared scattered on the table between them. Some were covered with carefully written lists, while others had a single line, barely legible, scratched across the middle. At least three languages were represented. ¡°I¡¯m still working on it,¡± she added after seeing Adam¡¯s unamused expression.


    They went through the pile, Adam carefully sorting each page and copying everything down into his own notebook. They debated the merits of the different guilds and associations they could be licensed by and the pros and cons of each.


    ¡°I think we need to start as a school.¡± Adam said after they had debated for hours. ¡°That will be the fastest to get approved, and we can eventually use that as leverage for the other applications.¡±


    The next few rest days were filled with forms and very particular calligraphy that Adam wouldn¡¯t let her touch. Laurel spent the ample free time opening a bank account at Adam¡¯s suggestion and exploring the city. She also found the Royal Mint and got information on officially exchanging bar stock for coins.


    ******


    The next public grievance day was already scorching by the time Laurel arrived at the palace. She remembered what it was like to be sensitive to the changes in weather, and spared a commiserating look to the guardsmen sweating through their full uniforms. Walking confidently, she joined the line of citizens seeking assistance, stretched beneath a line of portraits of proud looking men and women with strong jawlines and bright blue eyes. Adam had been exceedingly helpful in drawing up strategies for the upcoming confrontation and she was confident it would end more favorably. She refused to be so easily caught off guard this time. Laurel would be treating the petition room as the battlefield it was, going in armed with paperwork and ready for anything.


    ¡°Next!¡± She spied the same functionary she had spoken to before and swaggered towards him. Attitude wins battles just as much as skill. He squinted at her in recognition, not cowed in the slightest.


    Laurel cut him off before he could do more than draw in a breath. Always control the pace of a fight.


    ¡°I would like to submit this request to petition the king for an audience¡± she declared, simultaneously slamming a form down on the desk with a loud smack.


    ¡°Would you now?¡± The man picked up the form and reviewed it. After several moments he set it back down and slid it slowly back across the solid wooden desk.


    ¡°I''m afraid that won¡¯t be possible¡±. Every muscle in Laurel¡¯s body tensed as she went preternaturally still at the dismissal. This man had no idea what wrath he was inviting.


    ¡°And why not? The code of the realm, section 4 of the Marvilon Codex,¡± (she only stumbled slightly over the ridiculous name) ¡°clearly states anyone may submit a petition to the king for the defense or improvement of the realm.¡±


    ¡°Correct. However, the petition you have brought is in line with Article 2 of the Codex, which is reserved for the nobility, and therefore we cannot accept this. Unless of course, you have a patent of nobility hiding somewhere?¡±


    Laurel glared at him, expression unmoving. He stared back, a placid look on his face like he did this two dozen times a day and could not care less about the outcome. After a full minute of silence she saw the barest twitch of his lips in a held back smile. She took a slow breath. Then another.


    ¡°Very well!¡± she said as she launched out of her chair. ¡°I shall simply return with the appropriate forms next time.¡± With that she turned and marched away, back stiff and eyes forward. As she reached the door to the public gallery she caught a muttered ¡°good luck¡±. With all the discipline of a lifetime of training, she just barely resisted turning back or setting the desk on fire and continued out the door and back into the city.


    *******


    ¡°That bastard! The forms are identical, there¡¯s just an extra field for residence location for the commoners. Of course for a noble, the administrators will go out of their way to figure it out themselves.¡± Adam muttered angry threats as he furiously filled out another version of the same form. Laurel peered over her shoulder and watched as he added several artistic flourishes then pulled out a small ruler to measure their length.


    He took a break when he came to the end of the page and put the pen back into the inkwell. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Laurel. I¡¯m clearly more out of practice than I thought.¡± A chagrined smile flashed across his face but he avoided eye contact.


    The raucous barroom they were still using in absence of an actual office was surprisingly good at allowing for vulnerability without being overheard. Laurel waved away Adam¡¯s apology. ¡°I would need years to learn all the intricacies you¡¯ve already navigated. I tried just barreling in and it didn¡¯t work.¡± Her mood dropped at the reminder of the disaster that was Pevin, but she wouldn¡¯t erase Borin or her own shortcomings from the sect''s history. ¡°Next time we¡¯ll be ready for any of the counter attacks the bureaucrats can come up with.¡±


    Adam went back to his work while Laurel went back to her book. Persaud¡¯s Treatise had been enlightening on the modern economy, if extraordinarily boring. Laurel had more treasures in her storage than most kingdoms, but it would take some delicacy to translate that into ready cash without squandering the legacy of the sect. She would get through one more chapter before switching back to a battered novel she¡¯d picked up from a discount bin in one of the nearby bookstores. (Not Hook¡¯s, as Adam had made it clear in no uncertain terms they would not be giving the man any money).


    ¡°Besides,¡± she tossed out into the silence. ¡°If things start taking too long I¡¯ll just break into the palace and we¡¯ll go for the direct approach.¡±


    Adam paused once more. ¡°Let¡¯s see if we can avoid that.¡± He went back to work with even more urgency.


    ********


    The next week they met in a park instead of the various taverns dotted through the middle-class districts of Verilia. They chatted over games of byd. Beram¡¯s lessons meant she was now losing respectably, rather than the spectacle of her initial forays into the game.


    ¡°You¡¯re telling me that there are other planets out there, and if we can build the City Core enough we¡¯ll be able to hop over for a visit?¡±


    ¡°It''s a little more difficult than that, as I understand it. Though I admit, I¡¯ve never left this world, only heard stories. We hadn¡¯t yet established a world capital in my time, which made it even harder. Most of this information comes from those visitors that would stop by or elders that ascended and came back to visit. But even that was rare. Some information gets embedded into the City Cores themselves through the cosmic mana flows, though I don¡¯t know how to access it yet.¡±


    They continued to move pieces for a few minutes, then it was Laurel¡¯s turn to ask a question.


    ¡°Was law your specialty at the university?¡±


    ¡°Not really. I knew I wanted a scribe position so I made sure to take the classes, but I specialized in history, myths, and ancient languages.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fantastic!¡± Laurel¡¯s enthusiasm startled the nearby birds begging for crumbs, the small flock relocating farther from the disruptive woman.


    ¡°Really? You might be the only person outside of the university who didn¡¯t tell me it was a waste of time.¡±


    ¡°Sure, that¡¯s because everyone else you¡¯ve met isn¡¯t carrying around a library of texts mostly written in Alrasian. If we want anyone to be able to read it today we¡¯ll need to translate. I¡¯m glad I won¡¯t have to do it all myself.¡±


    The game piece Adam was moving clattered onto the board as he dropped it and stood. He paced back and forth as he practically shouted, ¡°You are carrying around an entire library of ancient knowledge? Why haven¡¯t you mentioned that yet! This will be the discovery of the century. Those stuffy old bastards at the university will be salivating when they hear about this.¡±


    Laurel waved him back to the game. ¡°Of course I have a library. What did you think the Eternal Archive referred to? The sect was founded to seek out secret knowledge and preserve it for the future. It evolved into gathering any kind of knowledge. I¡¯ll leave you with some of the history texts I studied as a child.¡± She moved her own piece and punched the air. ¡°I win. Your turn for a question.¡± She went to reset the board.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°What was your specialty then?¡±


    ¡°Oh, large-scale battle magic. Though I¡¯m old enough to have dabbled in everything. I¡¯m a terrible alchemist and a barely passable enchanter if I have a pattern to follow.¡±


    ¡°Of course. Battle magic¡± Adam repeated in a flat tone. ¡°Your turn then.¡±


    ¡°Where is your family from? Are they here in the city?¡±


    Adam cleared his throat. ¡°Folks passed a few years back when a virus was sweeping through the Flats. Gran is still around, but that¡¯s because she¡¯s too mean to die. My turn again. In the past when you had to see a king how did you go about it?¡±


    Even Laurel could recognize discomfort when it slapped her in the face, and she allowed the subject change. ¡°Well, if they were asking my sect for assistance, they would expect me. Otherwise I would just show up at the gate. There aren¡¯t many guards that would try and keep out a master cultivator. Or there weren¡¯t. And monarchs back then wouldn¡¯t want to make enemies of a powerful sect if they could avoid it. I thought about trying the same thing here but, well, guns are problematic and I¡¯d need to be concentrating hard or have a lot of preparation time to prepare a shield to block bullets. And I thought it might be best to not antagonize the king of the country my sect is in, and the city I want to cultivate.¡±


    ¡°Figures you were a noble. But yeah, probably a good idea not to storm the palace.¡± Adam said.


    ¡°Not a noble, but a cultivator from a strong sect. Now, tell me about all these tea houses.¡± Their game continued as they quizzed each other on the different paths that had led them to the same park.


    ********


    Adam dropped an armful of heavy books on the table in front of her with a deep thud. The covers were worn from years of use but in otherwise good condition. Nudging the pile apart, Laurel saw with a start that a few of the volumes were in Alrasian. The rest all had ¡®History¡¯ somewhere in the title.


    ¡°This is ridiculous. We¡¯re figuring it out today.¡± Adam announced when he returned to the table with a frothing pint.


    ¡°Figuring what out?¡± Laurel asked.


    ¡°How old you are! You can¡¯t just casually mention that none of the modern countries you¡¯ve heard of existed when you were born and not follow up.¡±


    ¡°I know it¡¯s a long time. Does it matter beyond that?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Adam threw his hands into the air. ¡°Imagine the kind of insight you can provide to history if we can nail down the timeline. You might upend the entire paradigm through which we study the ancient world. And it will be helpful for you to know for magic things.¡± He tacked on the rest when Laurel didn¡¯t react to her academic value.


    She waved him on anyway. Now that he mentioned it, knowing how long it had been could be useful. ¡°How are we going to do this then?¡±


    ¡°I thought we would start with major historical events and work our way backwards to see if you¡¯ve heard of them.¡± Adam said. ¡°I¡¯ve never done this before so we¡¯ll make it up as we go.¡±


    ¡°Okay, first up. The unification of Elgin from the scattered tribes and city states in the Gavroz jungles.¡±


    Laurel responded easily. ¡°Had never heard of Elgin until I bought an atlas back in Laskar.¡±


    ¡°That was a dumb place to start.¡± Adam berated himself. ¡°Laskar was established before that and you said you¡¯ve never heard of it.¡± He took a long pull from his beer before continuing. ¡°The Battle of Calignon?¡±


    ¡°Never heard of it.¡±


    ¡°The Eight Days War?¡±


    ¡°Where was it?¡± Laurel asked.


    ¡°Western Pashdore, past where the nomad tribes live now.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. At least I can¡¯t think of a war that lasted seven days.¡±


    ¡°Seven days is a slight misnomer,¡± Adam said. ¡°Tensions were of course high well before then, with maneuvering and posturing for a year at least. But the fighting itself only lasted eight days.¡±


    ¡°Was there any magic in use? That might help narrow it down.¡± Laurel said. This was actually starting to be somewhat fun.


    ¡°Legends vary, but nothing is consistent across the historical record.¡± Adam answered. The man was in his element and it showed, his eyes were alight and his normal grouchy demeanor was giving way to genuine excitement.


    ¡°The eruption of the White Fang?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°The fall of Bazelon?¡±


    ¡°Bazelon fell?¡±


    ¡°Getting closer,¡± Adam said. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got it. The Siege of Farshia.¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Laurel shouted. ¡°With the Council of Citizens refusing to capitulate to the Argan Horde. It happened about fifty years before I was born, the masters used it as an example of how cultivators can integrate into a mostly mortal army.¡±


    ¡°Fascinating. Accounts of the siege aren¡¯t considered credible because they always include magicians flying overhead and lobbing powerful attacks back and forth. But with what we know now, hmmm.¡±


    Seeing her companion lost in thought, Laurel brought them back to the point of this endeavor. ¡°So how long ago was it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, right. Sources vary somewhat but from our best estimate, that was in year 1685. So if it happened, let¡¯s say 50 years before you were born, and it¡¯s 3338 now¡­how old were you when you went into the cave?¡±


    ¡°I was 96.¡±


    ¡°So that means you were in the cave for,¡± he paused to do some math but Laurel had already gotten there.


    ¡°Just over fifteen hundred years,¡± she said. Suddenly the game wasn¡¯t quite so fun. Laurel had fully intended to live for that long and much longer, but she had expected to actually live those years. Not spend them in stasis underground.


    ¡°We need more beer for this,¡± Adam muttered.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Laurel agreed, signaling to the waitress to keep the rounds coming.


    ********


    Today was the day. Adam had reviewed every relevant law. Their forms had been proofread more times than Laurel could count. Today, she would taste victory. This time when Laurel approached the palace it was not with optimistic innocence or overconfidence, but the measured tread of a veteran soldier marching to war. She had arrived earlier than the last visits, and a fine mist still hung over the shaded parts of the public gardens.


    She presented her papers to the guards as she ran over the day¡¯s strategy in her head. Only a few petitioners were ahead of her in the line, and she could make out her nemesis finishing up with another citizen.


    Laurel approached the man slowly, taking full stock of the battlefield. His annoying little mustache twitched when he saw her but otherwise gave nothing away. The list of all the counterarguments she might need looped through her mind. She took a seat in the uncomfortable petitioner''s chair and waited for acknowledgement. The clerk looked up expectantly and motioned her to begin with a wave of his hand. Insolent, but he had earned it, to her chagrin.


    ¡°I have a petition for royal attention, formatted as pursuant to the Marvilon Codex, Section 4.¡± She put extra stress on the specification.


    ¡°What a surprise¡± the man deadpanned. ¡°Let''s review, shall we?¡±


    An interminable ten minutes later he placed the form back down. ¡°Well, everything seems to be in order¡±.


    Internally Laurel heaved a sigh of relief, but she refused on principle to let it show on her face. ¡°Of course. What steps do we need to take to set up the meeting?¡±


    ¡°We will add this to the list of petitions for royal attention, which is reviewed by the king¡¯s secretary each month. Once they get to yours, they will reach out to the listed contact address to set up a meeting. You can expect to hear back in six months to one year.¡±


    ¡°Six months,¡± she repeated flatly.


    ¡°That¡¯s the current best-case estimate, yes. Of course, if any major national events that require the king¡¯s attention crop up in the meantime, it will be longer.¡±


    ¡°I see. Thank you for your assistance¡± she choked out. She very deliberately moved the chair back, stood, and slowly walked out of the room. Back through the galleries, past the portraits of past rulers, down the steps, and out into the public gardens. She took a deep breath, leaned her head back, and screamed.


    The startled guards started making their way towards her but she waved them off. ¡°Just some frustrating news¡± she called out, along with a hysterical laugh. ¡°Nothing to worry about.¡± She quickly made her way off the palace grounds, and to the small office she and Adam had rented to have a permanent address for the stupid fucking forms.


    Adam looked up excitedly when Laurel opened the door. ¡°Well? Success?¡±.


    ¡°Of a sort,¡± she replied. ¡°Our petition was accepted, but it will be at least 6 months before anyone looks at it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to love Meristan bureaucracy. What next then? It gives us a long time to plan and push the licenses through, but what should we do in the meantime?¡±


    Laurel looked at him, startled. For a long moment her mouth gaped open while she hunted for the right words. ¡°You¡¯re going to stay with me on this?¡±


    Adam suddenly looked unsure. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking. Magic! And a window into history that I¡¯ve never imagined before. That has never existed before. I¡¯d like to stay a part of that. And besides, you don¡¯t need permission from the king to start laying the groundwork for your sect. You¡¯ll need someone who knows how to navigate the laws and guild system.¡±


    ¡°Adam¡­¡± Laurel didn¡¯t know what to say. Part of her desperately missed being part of a team, something larger than just herself. The rest of her recalled all too clearly that the last person who joined their lot with hers was nothing but ash and memories. Cultivator recall could be a burden. The price Borin had paid for simply being near Laurel would always be fresh when she chose to revisit it. But she needed help if she wanted to do things properly. The moment had snuck up on her but she was at a crossroads. Accept help now or struggle on her own for years. The right decision was obvious, but it still took everything she had to respond.


    ¡°Yes I would appreciate that a great deal.¡±


    Adam huffed and avoided eye contact at the emotion in her voice.


    ¡°Alright, enough of the heart-to-heart. This project is a whole lot more interesting than working for that uptight old Hook. That is, I¡¯m assuming you¡¯re bringing me on full time, yes? Now, what do we want to do?¡±


    Laurel cleared her throat and did her best to match Adam¡¯s tone. ¡°Right, well, I¡¯m not waiting six months just to be told we have to wait another year to get an appointment, and then however long after that to do anything. I¡¯ll explode. Without starting to build up the mana infrastructure, we¡¯ll see plant and animal deviations within the city relatively soon. In a city of this size, I¡¯d say we have a year, maybe less if we don¡¯t do anything.


    ¡°If official channels are going to be too slow we need to do something flashy. Force the people in charge to pay attention.¡±


    ¡°Okay, I see your point.¡± Adam strung out his words, debating how to approach this entirely new goal. ¡°Did you have any ideas in mind?¡±


    ¡°Well an ideal scenario would be if the city was under attack by some mana-fueled beast that I could fight off in front of everyone.¡± Laurel¡¯s eyes gleamed, it had been months since she¡¯d had a fight, and centuries since she¡¯d had a good one. The more she thought the better the idea seemed.


    ¡°Alright, protecting the masses is a good start but as a resident of the city I would prefer we didn¡¯t try to orchestrate some sort of magic attack where anyone could become collateral damage.¡±


    Laurel nodded to cede the point. ¡°It would be wildly difficult to make that happen on demand anyway¡±.


    ¡°What other options do we have?¡± Adam decided to ignore that last remark and refocus.


    ¡°We have the archives and the legacy stone, we could look up the design for some enchanted object and build that, then put it into use. If we kept it simple at least.¡± Laurel could feel the lack of enthusiasm in her own voice.


    ¡°Good idea, but the army already uses the mana stones to power their planes, so I¡¯m not sure that would be flashy enough. Plus our merchant license and manufacturing license are both still being processed, and those are not guilds we want to mess with. I think we were closer with your first plan. We want something that gets the same amount of attention, but that no one can get angry about. What else can you do that might be useful?¡±


    Laurel tried to cobble together a list. ¡°Fighting was my main magical focus which you¡¯ve already ruled out. I can use mana for more everyday tasks, like moving heavy objects or sending short distance messages, that kind of thing. I could probably do some spirit beast cooking if we found any to harvest. The skills anyone that cultivates learns at some point, basic formations, healing injuries, lighting fires or purifying water. I guess we could loan out some books?¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait. First, we are not letting anyone get their dirty, undeserving hands on those books. Second, did you say healing?¡±


    ¡°For certain things, yes. Broken bones, infections, healing these mostly involves strengthening the body¡¯s natural systems. Maybe a bit more if I pull out some reference materials. Some things are beyond me, however. I couldn¡¯t regrow someone else¡¯s limb on my own.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡± Adam was almost bouncing up and down at the idea. ¡°Most regular people can only afford basic care when they get injured, and doctors don¡¯t have a good way to treat most sicknesses. We aren¡¯t hurting for money, after turning in that silver bullion. If we make the service free and just ask for donations, they can¡¯t complain about licensing either.¡±


    ¡°Let''s do it then!¡± After months of back and forth trying to work within the existing system, Laurel was pleased to have any sort of path forward.


    ¡°We can work out of these rooms,¡± she announced. ¡°I can source some herbs or other ingredients we might need as catalysts. Can you start spreading the word? We may as well start as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m on it,¡± Adam replied. ¡°Even after they kicked me out of the guild, I stayed in contact with a bunch of the scribes. And you won¡¯t find a bigger group of gossips in the city. We¡¯ll have people lining the block¡±.


    *******


    They both set off on their missions. On the way to the Raven Quill Tavern, popular with scribes solely for the name, Adam had the idea to talk to some of the kids he passed begging or loitering on street corners. They were likely to know some people desperate enough to take a chance on magic healing, who were afraid to go to the hospitals, or couldn¡¯t afford their treatments. A quick word and a coin each and he got the ball rolling.


    ******


    Laurel went in the other direction to find the petition day market still in full swing. Every cultivator trained by the Citadel knew enough healing to survive by themselves in the wild, and she had little trouble finding a few stalls selling bundles of herbs. Since the mixtures she would be making would mostly be for conducting mana, the specific choices didn¡¯t matter as long as they were fresh. Instead she hunted down the ones with the highest amount of vitality.


    ¡°What in the world do you need 4 kilograms of thyme for, girlie?¡± the crone running the stall asked.


    ¡°Oh, some recipes to perfect for the restaurant¡± Laurel called out as she walked away. On the way back to the shop she found some hazelnuts and honey she would use as well. And maybe also snack on if there was extra.


    The shop was empty when she returned. She stored her materials and started meditating on the bed she had set up in one of the small back rooms. The mana levels were becoming more comfortable, and her own cultivation was back to the level she had achieved before her imprisonment. While fantastic for her on a personal level, it was making her more and more anxious to start on the City Core.


    Without establishing a mana infrastructure in population centers, things were going to start getting unpredictable. And if whatever organization that had cut off the mana flows the first time was still around, they were getting a head start.

 Ch 17 - Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

    The next day dawned bright and cold despite still being in the midst of summer, hinting at harsh winters to come. Laurel woke early enough to prepare some of the materials she¡¯d bought the previous day, infusing them with mana and creating a salve she could give out if needed. She set some bandages and jars on one of the counters, and lit a few lamps along with the small stove in the corner to warm things up. The kettle went on for tea and she was ready to open.


    At this point Adam stumbled down the stairs and into the shop carrying a sign with ¡°Healing Available¡± written across it, and an unfamiliar symbol drawn below.


    Seeing Laurel¡¯s confused look, Adam explained, ¡°Standard symbol for doctors for the folks who can¡¯t read¡±.


    They puttered around the small shop for a bit, glancing up whenever someone walked by. The small room had never been so organized. An hour and another pot of tea later, they both looked up as they heard the door start to open. Two boys entered. The taller one appeared to be thirteen or fourteen, and the other looked somewhere around eight, though it was hard to tell as he was standing mostly behind the older child. Both had the dirt-smudged clothes and wary eyes of children that were not sure where their next meal would be coming from.


    ¡°Hello,¡± Laurel said, doing her best approximation of gentle. It wasn¡¯t convincing. Both boys looked poised for flight, and she didn¡¯t want to scare off the first patrons for their little venture. ¡°Are either of you in need of healing?¡±


    The older one looked back and forth between Laurel and Adam with cautious eyes. ¡°My brother¡±, he finally said, as he nudged the smaller boy out from behind him. ¡°His arm got hurt last week and it''s getting worse.¡± Now that the boy was more in view, they could see some bandages on his left arm, loosely wrapped by inexpert hands and grimy from living on the streets.


    ¡°Let''s take a look,¡± Laurel said.


    ¡°We can¡¯t pay.¡± The older boy gritted out. The admission looked like it cost him some pride. Costly when you didn¡¯t have much else.


    ¡°That¡¯s alright¡± Laurel said, ¡°we aren¡¯t looking for money¡±.


    The boy narrowed his eyes, ¡°What do you get out of it then?¡±


    Laurel paused briefly, and decided to go with a pared down version of the truth. ¡°We¡¯re looking to get the attention of the people in charge. You¡¯ve heard that some people can do magic?¡± The boy nodded slowly. ¡°Well I¡¯m one of them. I can help teach people lots about magic, but no one will listen to me yet. So we decided to start helping out the regular people, and hoping people in power start to notice.¡± After the little speech Laurel realized she was a bit nervous to see how this child would react. Spelling it out made it clear that a whole lot was riding on hope.


    ¡°Should we get started?¡± she asked. She gestured at a couple of seats she¡¯d set up earlier that the boys could sit in. The older boy led his brother to one of the chairs and stood behind him with hands on the smaller boy¡¯s shoulders. They weren¡¯t terrified any more, but the elder brother¡¯s eyes never stopped moving.


    Laurel came over and joined them, smiling at the younger boy. ¡°I¡¯m Laurel. What¡¯s your name?¡± she asked him.


    ¡°James¡± he said, and ¡°this is Eric¡±, he indicated his brother behind him.


    ¡°Alright James¡± she said, I¡¯m going to take the bandage off and then use magic to take a look alright? It won¡¯t hurt, but it might feel tingly or cold.¡±


    James held his arm out, shaking but still willing to try. As Laurel unwound the bandage she could see the wound was inflamed. Only a bit red and angry-looking, not terrible yet,  but it would fester if untreated. ¡°Wow, this looks like it hurts, you must be very brave.¡±


    James puffed out his chest in response as Eric squeezed his shoulders. Laurel let a trickle of mana flow into the boy, through his body and back to her, carrying information about where the body¡¯s natural process had been interrupted. He was malnourished, and had been for some time. The more immediate problem however was as expected, the infection in his arm.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be able to heal the arm,¡± she said.¡± It will take a little while, and it will feel a bit like putting your arm in very cold water.¡± She let her mana trickle back in, only instead of merely observing, she directed one strand to boost the boy¡¯s natural response, and another to attack the inflammation. They sat in silence for several minutes, and both boys made shocked noises when they saw the red tinge fade from Jame¡¯s skin. After another ten minutes of the process, the wound had closed and she pronounced him healed.


    Both boys were staring, wide-eyed after the first real example of magic either of them had seen. ¡°Tell your friends to stop in if they need some help and we¡¯ll see what we can do, okay?¡± Laurel said.


    Eric nodded fervently. ¡°Thank you so much, I didn¡¯t know what else we could do.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome¡± she responded.


    The boys hustled out. Once she was sure the door had closed behind them, she looked over at Adam, who had quietly observed the whole thing. ¡°Is there no free healing for children?¡± She asked him. By and large Merista had seemed like a country that wanted to believe itself fair, and she was surprised there was no system to account for cases like the boys¡¯.


    ¡°Higher up the hills there are hospitals that might help, and the king will pay for doctors to come through the lower wards a few times a year, but the next one isn¡¯t for another few months. Is that something your people would do?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± Laurel admitted. ¡°Similarly, we¡¯d have public healing stations but not that many. Never enough healers to send them out like that. I guess not everything¡¯s changed since I was put to sleep.¡±


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°If we can establish the sect here we can teach and provide regular access to healing for the lower districts.¡± Adam whipped out a pad of paper to write it down while Laurel went back to tinkering with a mana crystal she had manifested while meditating the night before. She wanted to replace the lamps in the store and the light from mana crystals reminded her of home


    They had a steady drip of visitors throughout the next few days. Children and teens with various injuries and illnesses from a life in the Flats. Nothing was beyond Laurel¡¯s skill to heal, thankfully, and Laurel and Adam tinkered on their own projects in the downtime between visitors.


    As the light was slanting through the front windows nearing dinner time,  they were interrupted by a woman walking in. She was not as gaunt as the stream of street kids they had seen, and her dress was of a higher quality, though the hem and elbows were showing signs of wear. Smooth dark skin said she was younger than either of them by a wide margin, but the signs of stress were evident in the pinched expression on her face and nervous glances around the room.


    ¡°Hello, we were just about to pour some tea, would you like some?¡± Laurel asked as she wandered over to the small wood stove. The woman tentatively nodded as Laurel busied herself setting out cups and pouring. ¡°Now, what can we help you with?¡±


    The woman rearranged her conservative navy skirts and sipped the tea before replying. ¡°I hear you have been offering healing to those in the Flats? ¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s correct. Is there something that ails you?¡± Laurel said. With elegant posture and a head topped with meticulous braids, nothing seemed wrong with the young woman, but not all afflictions were easy to see.


    The woman looked over at Adam scribbling away in the corner and back to Laurel, then sat up straighter, if that were possible. ¡°My name is Annette Rada, and I believe I may, in fact, be of assistance to you. You have noble goals, but will need someone to organize and schedule your time if you continue to pursue this course. I have secretarial experience and knowledge of the Flats, as well as the more affluent districts of Verilia,  which I can leverage to reach whatever goals you have for the future. In return, I ask only a modest salary and access to healing services¡±. After this speech she raised her teacup again to her mouth, and Laurel caught the slight tremble in the young woman¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Give us a moment to discuss¡± Laurel said, rising and gesturing Adam to join her in the back.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± she said.


    ¡°We don¡¯t really need an extra person for what we are trying to do here.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, this is mostly a means to an end. Though we should definitely continue with the healing when we build the sect. It won¡¯t hurt anything to hear her out.¡±


    Adam peered at her more closely. ¡°You were the kind of kid who wandered around collecting injured stray animals weren¡¯t you?¡±


    Laurel let out a loud laugh. ¡°Hardly, but one of the best things about being a cultivator is the ability to fix some of  the little problems that you find. Eventually we¡¯ll need more staff right? She can take on some of the logistics while you get to focus more on the archives.¡± That got Adam¡¯s attention and he grudgingly agreed to consider it at least.


    They returned to the anxiously waiting young woman.


    ¡°Alright Annette, so tell us your story. ¡°


    Annette took another fortifying sip of her tea and began. ¡°My family lives about a third of the way up the hill. My father works in one of the major foundries, and my mother did some seamstressing out of our home while looking after everyone. Things were good, and my brother and I were all able to find jobs after school. John works as a shiphand for a trading company and most recently I¡¯ve been working as a secretary to Lady Constance Fairhaven.


    ¡°My father started coughing more and more, starting a couple of years ago. He¡¯s ruined his lungs with decades in the foundry supporting the rest of us. John and I have been chipping in as much as we can for healing tonics, but he needs more than what the doctors can do. Now that he¡¯s too sick to work, we can¡¯t keep scraping together enough for the treatments along with everything else.¡±


    ¡°I heard from a friend that you are willing to heal, and if it works, I¡¯m happy to work  off the payment.¡± Annette looked lost as she finished her story. Her posture remained perfect and her face serene, only her fingers clenched in her skirts betrayed how desperately she needed help.


    ¡°How about this: we¡¯ve basically finished here for the day. When it¡¯s convenient for you, I¡¯ll visit your father and see if I¡¯m able to help. From there we can talk about your long-term plans and if you¡¯re still interested in a job.¡± Laurel said.


    After a round of tearful thanks, they arranged for Laurel to visit for tea the following rest day. Once Annette was on her way, Adam once more brought up the rather noticeable lack of work they had to give her.


    ¡°We have the money to pay, and eventually we¡¯ll need people to help administrate the sect. She wants to work with us and obviously isn¡¯t afraid of the magic aspect.¡± Laurel defended.


    ¡°Fine. I just don¡¯t trust anyone in bed with the nobles.¡± Adam said.


    She sighed. ¡°We¡¯ll give it a few weeks as a trial and go from there.¡±


    When rest day came around, Laurel made her way up the city to a middle-class housing district. The homes were cared for, but had also been weathered by years of sea air and harsh winters. She saw fresh coats of plaster and blossoming herb gardens, but any hard edges had long since been smoothed out by the wind and rain.  Following the directions from Annette, she made her way to a row of narrow houses built with their walls touching, and approached a green door on one end.


    The door opened to reveal Annette, the dark rings beneath her eyes even more pronounced than when Laurel had last seen her two days before. She bustled Laurel into a charming living room, containing a woman that could pass for an older version of Annette. Her hands and eyes said she was capable, if a bit frayed around the edges. Next to her sat a sickly man with a kind smile. They all exchanged pleasantries while Annette passed out cups of tea. When the small talk was over, there was nothing for it but to get to the real reason she was there.


    Laurel looked at Annette''s father and asked permission for an examination and explained the process.


    ¡°Of course dear¡± he said, holding out a trembling hand. Laurel gripped it gently and started sending a thread of mana through his body. Instantly she could tell this was far beyond healing the minor injuries of the street kids in the Flats. The damage to this man¡¯s body was extensive and had built up over decades. His system was close to giving out entirely. After almost 20 minutes of silent examination Laurel leaned back and tried to find the words to explain what she had seen to this family looking at her like she was their last hope.


    ¡°I won¡¯t lie to you, it''s bad. Probably a bit beyond my normal limits.¡± She started. Annettes face fell and her parents looked resigned. ¡°However the situation is not without hope. I don¡¯t have the ability to heal the damage entirely, or in one session, but I believe with regular treatment you will see significant improvement. ¡±


    ¡°Why multiple sessions?¡± Annette¡¯s mother had been mostly quiet up to this point and looked afraid to hope her husband might get better.


    ¡°There are too many toxins and too much scar tissue in the lungs. My form of healing uses some energy from the rest of the body, and Mr. Rada does not currently have much to spare. Even if we could heal all the damage immediately, the shock could lead to something else giving out. It also gives me some time to research the best methods.¡±


    The whole family was wide-eyed at this explanation, clearly not in a frame of mind to hear about the theoretical underpinnings of healing magic. Nor was Laurel really the best person to educate them on the topic. ¡°My usual methods involve speeding up and strengthening the body¡¯s natural healing processes. I¡¯ll need to do some reading to figure out the best approach in this case. How about we do a small session now to make you more comfortable, and set up some time to work on the healing every one or two weeks?¡±


    Mr. Rada extended his hand again. He had been the calmest through the process, having come to terms with his situation, but he was willing to try for his wife and children.


    Laurel again grasped his hand and began the healing. It was a far more delicate process than what she had been doing for the cuts and broken bones of the poor Verlians who came to her. She let the smallest stream of mana she could control flow into his hand and up his arm, then down into his lungs and heart where the damage was the most severe. Tiny beads of mana were used to stimulate healing in small patches, careful to avoid changing too much all at once. She slipped into a light trance and barely noticed the change in light signifying it was now late into the evening. When she felt there was no more she could do without his body acclimating she released his hand. Awareness flooded back in.


    ¡°How do you feel?¡± She stretched her neck to relieve the ache from hunching over for hours.


    ¡°Good! Like I just had the best night¡¯s sleep of my life.¡± Mr Rada replied. Hearing voices, the women hurried back into the room.


    ¡°Excellent! If it works for you all, I can come back at the same time next week.¡± She was met with a round of smiles and tearful eyes. ¡°Annette, if you still would like to discuss a job opportunity, stop by the shop sometime in the next few days.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be there.¡± Annette promised. With that and another round of thanks, Laurel left and made her way slowly back to her rooms, contemplating the foundry work that left Mr. Rada in such a state, and wondering if there was something to be done.

 Ch 18 - Seed Planting

    While Laurel went to visit the Radas, Adam planned to hasten the spread of their reputation to the right people. Healing the local brats was all well and good, but they had bigger ambitions. A library of ancient texts and the ability to control access as he saw fit. And whatever Laurel wanted to do, he supposed. It was plenty of motivation to get creative.


    As a lifelong denizen of the city he knew exactly where to find soldiers just out of officer training on their days off. He wandered over to a tavern near the road to Fort Sarken and bellied up to the bar. Wherever people drank, people talked. At some point tonight he would get the opportunity to plant a seed.


    A couple of hours and a few beers later, Adam¡¯s patience was rewarded. A group of soldiers were two pitchers in, ribbing their friend, who had broken his wrist on the obstacle course at the fort.


    He called out, adding a slur to his voice for emphasis. ¡°Oy, you lot are soldiers over from the fort? Any of you going out for officer-entry day next month?¡±


    The injured man sank even lower in his seat. ¡°Not anymore.¡± He waved his arm to emphasize the sling. ¡°There¡¯s no way I¡¯m making it through with this.¡± He stared morosely into his empty pint glass and carefully poured another beer with his non-injured hand. ¡°Next year.¡±


    ¡°You should go to that new healer down the Flats. They¡¯ll magic up a fix, good as new.¡±


    A round of heckles met this statement. ¡°Sure thing¡± one of the more intoxicated soldiers responded as he elbowed his injured friend. ¡°Why don¡¯t you get¡¯em to just magic you up some wings at the same time, fly over the obstacles.¡±


    The soldiers broke into laughter, devolving into drunken hiccups and giggles. The injured man ignored his friends to focus on Adam. ¡°Is it actually magic?¡±


    ¡°What do I know?¡± A childhood in the slums had taught Adam not to oversell a mark. ¡°But it''s free so who cares?¡±


    After the conversation fizzled Adam relaxed back into the bar and enjoyed another beer. If all went well then the higher-ups at Fort Sarken were in for quite a surprise in the coming week.


    ******


    On Secondday Annette arrived in the early afternoon to discuss employment terms. The tea was put on to brew and they all sat down in mismatched chairs.


    ¡°I was just researching your father¡¯s case.¡± Laurel said. ¡°It''s more complicated than anything I¡¯ve done before but I think I can make some improvements. He won¡¯t be able to go back to the foundries though, or really any hard labor.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that''s¡­ that¡¯s great news, thank you Laurel.¡± Annette¡¯s formal mask broke for the moment as she graced them both with a genuine smile. The mask came back as she visibly recentered herself.


    ¡°I¡¯ve put together an initial contract which I think accounts for everything. Of course, if we need addenda, that can be adjusted.¡± Annette was back to her perfect posture, in another respectable dress that had seen better days. She handed both Adam and Laurel individual copies.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Laurel skimmed hers, everything seemed in order. The paper felt soft as satin in her hands, but she didn¡¯t really care what it said as long as it was nothing egregious.  Adam leaned over his copy, quill in hand. Each paragraph was furiously edited with corrections, some crossed out entirely.


    ¡°This salary is highway robbery! Why don¡¯t you just shiv us in an alley and be done with it?¡± Adam said when he reached the compensation section.


    ¡°Is it?¡± Laurel glanced up from her own reading. ¡°We still have a lot more silver we can exchange.¡±


    ¡°On the contrary.¡± Annette sat up even straighter, if that were possible. ¡°This is a competitive salary for administrative positions. You should also consider the value added by my knowledge of noble house protocols and guild policies. Any growth you intend for your operation will run into one or both areas, and failing to meet the expectations of established players is how you will be excluded.¡±


    ¡°Did you spend so much time around nobles that the greed rubbed off on you? This is outrageous, experience or no.¡± Adam was not backing down.


    Laurel looked back and forth as bickering devolved into more creative insults.


    ¡°How about this: less salary to start, with raises if your experience pays off, and then we can renegotiate once we¡¯ve established the sect, assuming you choose to join on as an administrator.¡± Laurel was rather proud of that bit of negotiating. Maybe being sectmaster wouldn¡¯t be so difficult after all.


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®establish the sect¡¯?¡±


    After a few hours describing their plans, and then convincing Annette that they were actually possible, she became the newest member of the team. She immediately went to work  tidying the shop and greeting any patients that wandered in, while keeping them all steadily supplied with tea to get through the day. Adam¡¯s criticisms even slowed when she pointed out their application to the Scholar¡¯s Guild was written on the wrong type of parchment. Laurel had avoided naming either of them as sect members, but even without that level of commitment, she was deeply appreciative of their willingness to join her cause.


    The rest of the week followed the same pattern. Meristans wandered into the shop to be healed, most of them from the poorer districts of the city. Adam had ducked into the back rooms when a young soldier showed up to get his fractured wrist healed, and they had a few more middle-class citizens stop by, having heard of them from the Radas. Satisfying work. After so long adrift, Laurel appreciated a few weeks of routine.


    ********


    Annette had picked up quite a bit over the last few days. Probably more than Laurel or Adam realized. They were both too straightforward for any real attempt at subterfuge. Lucky for them that she had stumbled into their path. Their entire plan had been more or less explained. They had seen a problem, and had come up with a way around it. And then when the next problem came up they would attack it the same way. It was ambitious, which she could appreciate. It was also woefully lacking in details, which scraped against her sensibilities. That would be where she could find her niche and add some value.


    During the lunch hour she ducked out of the dinky little shop and hailed a cab uphill to the wealthier districts. Adam had the right idea to spread the word to the soldiers, but he was thinking too small. The army wasn¡¯t the only group they would need contact with. Annette would do the same in higher circles. She spent the hour dropping in and out of shops catering to the elite. Or rather, the servants of the elite. The kinds of shops she¡¯d spent ten years in and out of while working for merchants and nobles.


    ¡°Annette! Darling, it¡¯s been an age since I¡¯ve seen you in here. Does this mean you¡¯re back with Lady Fairhaven, or someone else?¡± Michelle was the most inveterate gossip Annette knew, which was exactly why she made sure to include the millinery on her little tour.


    ¡°A new position. Working as a secretary for a group of magic users.¡±


    ¡°Witches?!¡±


    Annette could feel the other woman¡¯s excitement at the juicy tidbit. If she played her cards right, rumors would be flying before she even made it back to the Flats. ¡°One witch so far. A rich one. I think she plans on making waves in the city once things are a little more settled.


    ¡°Look at you, clever. Always do land on your feet. Any chance your new patroness might be in need of something fashionable for these alleged waves.¡± The consummate saleswoman, Michelle started walking over to a gorgeous new piece in the window, accented with a silver-dyed feather. ¡°This one in particular needs someone with the right kind of attitude to make it shine.¡±


    ¡°That is exquisite but I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m not buying today. Just making sure I still know all the best spots for when it¡¯s time,¡± Annette said with a wink.


    After a few more pleasantries she was able to escape the shop. From what she had seen, Laurel would wear one of Michelle¡¯s hats if it was the last possible hope for the sect and not a minute before. But the shop was fashionable and the women who patronized it had the ears of the biggest influencers in the city. She would lay just enough breadcrumbs to smooth the way when Laurel inevitably did something to draw attention.


    The next day she would make sure her contacts with the best papers and magazines were still good. She¡¯d be needing them soon, and quite a bit had likely changed in the year she¡¯d been out of touch with that crowd.

 Ch 19 - That Actually Worked

    ¡°The Fisher Collective is going to reject any applications without blue or green ink. You were a licensed scribe, you know this.¡± Annette and Adam were hunched over the desk evaluating the most recent application.


    ¡°This is blue, bring the light crystal over so you can see. It¡¯s from the store in the Garion District that uses squid ink as an ingredient.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. What are we doing for the gift?¡±


    ¡°Watch this.¡± Adam turned to where Laurel was studying a healing technique she had found to help with Annette¡¯s father¡¯s condition. ¡°Laurel, we need a treasure of the sea for our Fisher Collective application.¡±


    Laurel put the technique tablet down. She found what she was looking for among the late Master Draven¡¯s possessions in her spatial storage tatoo. With a twist of her wrist for some added flair she produced a jade box and tossed it over to Adam. He deftly caught it out of the air and opened it to reveal a pearl the size of a large marble. It was emitting a faint iridescent light.


    Annette gaped at the sight. ¡°What is that?¡± Then she turned a glare on Adam. ¡°You were complaining about my asking salary when she can pull magic pearls from thin air!¡±


    Sensing another argument in the making, Laurel hastily stepped in. ¡°It¡¯s a Deepwater Pearl. A cultivator with a water attunement can process the energy to give them the ability to breathe underwater. Light or shadow cultivators would sometimes use them for vision enhancements but that¡¯s a waste, in my opinion. It is most definitely a treasure of the sea though. They are usually hoarded by spirit beasts in underwater lairs, which are not fun to raid if you can¡¯t already breathe down there.¡±


    ¡°Well they will forgive the wrong ink if we apply with that.¡± Annette had recovered from the shock.


    ¡°I told you it¡¯s dark blue ink!¡±


    They went back to squabbling until the chiming stone Laurel had installed above the door went off. A young man entered the shop. He was better off than most of the people that came in seeking help, with no evidence of malnutrition. In fact he was well-muscled, with neatly trimmed brown hair and clean fingernails. The injury he presented was a long, but shallow, gash on his forearm that had been wrapped in a clean strip of white linen. It was far too even to have been inflicted by accident.


    One glance at Adam and Annette told her they had reached the same conclusion; this man had been sent as a test. She smiled and made a show of examining the arm while Annette engaged the young man in small talk, where he stumbled over questions about how he got the injury and where he worked. Once she was ready, Laurel healed his arm with the same lack of fanfare as with all her other patients.


    ¡°It''s actually healed!¡± he exclaimed. He poked the spot of the incision several times, as though expecting his flesh to pull back apart.


    ¡°Of course. Avoid straining the arm too much for the rest of the day, and be more careful next time.¡± Laurel played along with the charade, treating the soldier just the same as her other patients.


    They waited until he was down the street and out of sight before breaking into matching grins.


    ¡°So,¡± Laurel said, ¡°do we take bets on how long until we finally hear from someone important?¡±


    ¡°Next rest day.¡± Annette was confident. ¡° They won¡¯t want to cause a scene so they¡¯ll send someone early morning before any foot traffic picks up¡±.


    ¡°I think it will be tonight. They know we¡¯re here now and they won¡¯t want to give us time to run or prepare,¡± Adam countered.


    ¡°Tonight if he was army, rest day if he was city police.¡± Annette conceded.


    ¡°There¡¯s no way he was city police. Too clean-cut to be anything other than an army boy. Who else would be willing to give themselves a cut like that because their boss told them to?¡±


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Laurel listened in on the back and forth. The past week had seen these two become thick as thieves. Apparently acerbic banter mixed with criticism was the standard way of expressing camaraderie amongst those raised in Verilia.


    Anticipation rose as the day drew to a close. Conversation became stilted and fell off entirely by the time they closed the shop. All of them were wound tight when a handsome, middle-aged gentleman walked in. Laurel guessed he was about Adam¡¯s age and well-used to charming anyone he came across. She aimed for a pleasant smile but Adam and Annette both gasped.


    Annette recovered before Laurel had a chance to speak, ¡°Welcome to our healing practice, General Skycrest.¡±


    The general grinned. ¡°I see the anonymous stranger angle is out.¡±


    ¡°What can we help you with, General?¡± Laurel said. They had discussed their strategy for when they were noticed by someone with some authority, and had decided to treat it as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. ¡°Do you have an injury you need healed?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been hearing some interesting rumors about your practice here, down at the fort.¡± The general began in a leading tone. Laurel continued to hold what Annette had told her was called a ¡®customer-service smile¡¯.


    The general let out a small sigh. ¡°Are you able to heal using magic? And have you been healing people for free?¡±


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t love the term ''magic'', there is actually quite a lot of theory and complexity involved, though I can admit it''s useful as a paradigm -¡± Adam cut her off with a discreet cough. ¡°I mean yes, I can use magic to heal and have been doing so for free.¡±


    ¡°May I ask why? You could charge a fortune for something like that.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t need the money at the moment.¡± Annette¡¯s mercantile heart had almost given out when she realized just how not in need of money they were, and had taken it upon herself to manage their liquid assets.


    ¡°What do you need then?¡± The general replied.


    Laurel narrowed her eyes at Skycrest and mentally thanked Adam for dropping the name. For all the papers lauded him as a hero of the common people, he knew how to play the game. ¡°We need open discussion with people in power. Whatever cultivators¡± - another cough from Adam - ¡°magic users, that you have working for you would have noticed something unusual going on with their magic recently. I can explain this.¡±


    Laurel had taken a gamble that matching the general¡¯s directness would pay off.


    ¡°Very well. We would like to invite you to a briefing at the palace tomorrow morning. Be there first thing at seventh bell and present this to the gate guards.¡± The general produced an elaborate seal carved out of a chunk of gold-veined marble.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be there.¡± Laurel confirmed, catching the general off guard after what had likely been intended as an individual invitation.


    ¡°Very well, until tomorrow then.¡± With that and a curt nod the general departed.


    They ensured they were alone before they started celebrating, watching until the General turned the corner at the next block up the road.


    Laurel produced a bottle of wine, one of the better vintages she still had in storage. As they passed cups around they all felt bone-deep relief that the plan had worked. ¡°You know, I was beginning to doubt.¡± Laurel said. ¡°I was thinking we maybe should have gone with the monster fight idea instead. I¡¯m glad we didn¡¯t though.¡± She gestured towards Annette, ¡°we wouldn¡¯t have gotten to meet and help any of these people if we did it that way. I think when we petition the king to allow us to build a new citadel and access the city¡¯s mana infrastructure, we should build it in the Flats, way out on the edge.¡±


    Annette looked scandalized. ¡°Monster fight? Never mind, I don''t want to know. More importantly, no one chooses to build in the Flats if they can afford to be higher up the hill.¡±


    ¡°The only people who stay in the Flats are the ones that don¡¯t have another choice,¡± she tacked on.


    ¡°Exactly! We¡¯ve been able to help these people in the last few weeks. If we stay here, we can continue to help these people. If we move up the hill, do you think any street kids are going to be able to come in for healing? No. Plus we¡¯ll be improving the areas that need it most first, and will be able to come and go without justifying our movements constantly. ¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re not aiming high, just for a total social revolution then?¡± Adam snarked, though by the expression on his face, Laurel thought he was considering her idea.


    ¡°Not a revolution, but the world is on the precipice of some big changes no matter what we do. The sects have always understood the importance of the mortal population. Symbiosis between cultivators and the mortals is necessary for a healthy society.¡± Laurel was practically reciting one of her early lessons and smiled at the nostalgia. ¡°It¡¯s also been great for my cultivation and will be good practice once we have some capable students.¡±


    ¡°Cheaper real estate down here,¡± Adam added. Laurel toasted the observation.


    They continued to discuss plans for the future while they enjoyed the rest of the bottle. Annette was pleased they would continue healing, while Adam was salivating about getting his hands on the world''s most unique library. By the time they had finished they were both giggling about how they would extort other members of the Scholar¡¯s Guild and Historical Society when they came looking for access. Laurel realized she might have chosen something a bit strong for the mortals as they staggered upstairs to sleep it off in preparation for the next day.


    Laurel sat on her bed and dropped into meditation. She hadn¡¯t lied to Annette. The weeks of finely controlled mana manipulation during her healings had been excellent for her personal advancement. Her mana was flowing back at the speed she was accustomed to, and all of the small-scale work meant she created an even finer mesh of channels reinforcing her own body.


    In her own time it would still have been decades, if not centuries, before she would have been asked to interact directly with a City Core. Now, with no one else at a high enough cultivation level, it was going to fall to her to not only lead her order, but to teach this country and then the rest of the world both how to cultivate and how to shape the mana flows of the world to keep society from falling apart.


    Knowing the royal audience was pivotal and she would need all the information available, she decided she was as ready as she could be and reached deeply into the mana surrounding the city.


    An ocean during a storm. Riptides and crashing waves of mana battered against Laurel¡¯s spirit, pulling her deeper. She wrenched herself back out before she got stuck cultivating and missed her appointment. The situation was becoming dire. It would take months of work to get the city in any kind of order if she started now. If the meeting at the palace didn¡¯t go well, Laurel would need to do something drastic.

 Ch 20 - All Hail the King

    The trio set off from the shop before most of the city had begun to stir, the sun only a whisper above the horizon. A sign left on the door would tell any foot traffic they were closed for the day. The Eternal Archive had a specific style for official business, based off the sect founders¡¯ original uniforms. The three of them were wearing their preferred type of outfit, but in higher quality materials than their regular clothes, and entirely in black. On top of this they all wore jewelry in a riot of precious metals and stones.


    Laurel was in a black shirt and pants, draped loosely, allowing her a full range of motion. Breaking her usual style she had bracelets on each wrist of bronze, silver and gold bands twined together, a matching belt of braided chains, and a necklace with a diamond pendant that had caused Annette''s jaw to nearly hit the floor when Laurel took it out. Her hair was pulled back and secured with a set of sapphire pins, and a sword was sheathed at her waist.


    Annette wore a black silk version of her standard working dress, along with a silver brooch, having flatly refused when Laurel started pulling out various gemstones for her to add to the ensemble. Adam was in a black version of a scribe¡¯s robe over fitted trousers, with bands of gold around his upper arms, just below the elbows, and at the wrists. Laurel had assured him this was how sect scribes used to dress to keep their sleeves from trailing through any ink.


    The effect was eye-catching, eccentric by Meristan standards. Laurel was self-aware enough to recognize they looked lost when compared to the slums they were walking through.


    ¡°We look ridiculous.¡± Adam had been mumbling all morning when he realized they were going to match.


    ¡°Speak for yourself,¡± Annette sniffed, ¡°I look fantastic.¡±


    ¡°It''s important to present a unified image when dealing with those in power. It implies confidence, which implies we are people worth listening to.¡± Laurel repeated the argument she had made to get the others into the outfits in the first place.


    ¡°It implies we are worth robbing,¡± Adam fired back. ¡°Why the jewelry?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll protect you if we get attacked. And everyone likes pretty things.¡± Laurel was able to say with an entirely straight face. The good-natured grousing continued as they wandered up the street.


    When they reached a more middle class area partway up the hill, they were able to hail a carriage for hire to bring them the rest of the way. The cabs were scarce in the Flats, and of the ones that were there, none were willing to pick up a trio dressed so outlandishly. Three quarters of an hour later they exited at the steps to the palace.


    ¡°We¡¯re ready,¡± Laurel announced in an attempt to bolster her companions.


    In her old life, she had been trained to walk into negotiations like this from a place of power. Monarchs and other sects would reach out to the Eternal Archive for assistance or favors. Modern power structures were planets away from that. Her companions had a much better understanding of the local culture and government, but had never been in the presence of someone like General Skycrest, let alone the king or other senior officials. Their anxiety had been growing the further they rose up the hill until it was rolling off them in waves. Despite their discomfort, both Adam and Annette firmed their shoulders at the sentiment as Laurel led them inside.


    They entered and were intercepted by a servant instructing them to follow along. Adam and Annette were distracted by the general opulence, having never had reason to enter the palace before. After they had been walking for several minutes past industrious servants and impersonal decorations, Laurel broke off from their guide and turned down a different corridor.


    The servant leading them to their meeting was nonplussed. She, along with Adam and Annette scurried after Laurel, to find her confidently striding towards the desk of one of the administrative functionaries working in the public part of the palace.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am. Ma¡¯am! We really must ¨C¡±


    Laurel arrived at the desk of her former nemesis, and pulled a solid bronze feather out of midair with a flourish. The room full of administrators gaped at the gesture. Or maybe at the outfits, it was hard to tell.


    ¡°Where I grew up, it was considered honorable to give a gift to a worthy opponent. This pen can be bound to you, and will then be able to transcribe whatever you wish, as long as it is filled with ink, which you can pour into the top of the feather. To bind it, put a drop of blood on the nib.¡± Laurel¡¯s pronouncement was met with silence from those present as they all tried to figure out what just happened. Laurel nodded, unconcerned, and left the way she came.


    ¡°Sorry for the detour¡± she said to the servant, gesturing for the group to continue on their previous route.


    ¡°That man will be drinking for free off this story for months¡± Adam predicted as they continued to make their way to the inner palace.


    ¡°Where are you finding the time to get all of these trinkets?¡± Annete asked, gesturing behind them towards the room where Laurel had just bestowed the feather, and then also to the adornments she and Adam had on.


    ¡°When I found the citadel in ruins, I gutted the entire thing, not just the bulk materials we¡¯ve been using so far. There were safes and strongrooms that only a member of the sect could enter, and either none of the original looters thought it was worth it to try and break the seals, or they didn¡¯t realize they were there. I have more trinkets and enchanted items than I know what to do with. Even back in the day there were plenty of sect members who would have tools like that quill.¡±


    A nudge from Adam stopped Laurel¡¯s story, as a glance towards their guide revealed an expression that was a mix of abject horror and interest. As they continued, the grandeur of the public wing was replaced by dull practicality. The portraits and expensive ornaments dried up and the servants increased until there was no longer any indication they were in the palace at all.


    Another five minutes of trailing through a warren of corridors brought them to a non-descript door. Their guide bowed and walked off, having not said another word since their side trip. They looked at each other, took a collective breath, and Laurel pushed open the door without knocking. Inside they found five people waiting for them. Laurel took them all in with a glance. General Skycrest was there with his signature smile, sitting closely with a dignified woman the frequent newspaper articles and photos identified as his wife. The papers speculated that Madam Skycrest was a witch, and Laurel was excited to meet the first modern cultivator she had seen since her awakening that didn¡¯t immediately try to murder her.


    Across the table from them was an older gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair, and an aura that said he was used to being obeyed. Another military leader then. To his right was a woman with dark hair pulled back into a strict bun, wearing wire-rimmed glasses and sitting in front of a pile of documents and books. Probably the civilian equivalent to the two military men.


    At the head of the table sat a man who could only be the king. Of an age and build with General Skycrest, he wore a gold circlet to indicate his station, above dark eyes that were evaluating Laurel and her friends¡¯ every move. She could recognize the square jaw and handsome features from the portraits she¡¯d become so familiar with.


    Annette and Adam had both bowed low when they realized the king was present, but Laurel respectfully inclined her head instead. She was a master cultivator and a sectmaster. This man would get respect but not subservience. The king smiled, aware of exactly what she was doing.


    ¡°Please have a seat¡± he invited them. ¡°A round of introductions to start I think. I am King Edward of Merista, Protector of the Sky Throne, High Commander of the Meristan Armed Forces, Chancellor of the Nobles¡¯ Senate, et cetera.¡± He paused here then broke into a grin, ¡°In private settings we dispense with the rest¡±. He gestured to his right, ¡°General and Madam Skycrest are our air force, special forces, and magical issues experts, Madam Cursan is the senior administrator in charge of public infrastructure within the kingdom, and General Mansfeln is the commander of Fort Sarken, and is our senior military liason.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Your Majesty. I am Laurel Stormblade, sectmaster of the Eternal Archive and master vortex cultivator.¡± Not even a rustle went around the room at the foreign collection of titles, impressing Laurel with control mortals could rarely exhibit. ¡°With me I have Adam de Ranier, training Librarian, and Annette Rada, an administrator of the sect. We appreciate you taking the time for this audience.¡±


    ¡°Well now, while I am very interested to hear about your organization, I believe we should get down to the reason for this meeting. General Skycrest claims you have information regarding the changes in magic. We¡¯ve noticed some of this ourselves. Can you elaborate?¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°I appreciate the directness of Your Majesty, and will try to respond in kind. I was born approximately 1600 years ago, as close as we¡¯ve been able to determine. The world at that time was a very different place, as you might imagine. The mana saturation was much higher, as was the proportion of the population that engaged in some form of cultivation, what you now refer to as magic.¡±


    She paused here expecting some disbelief. Instead the king gestured for her to continue. ¡°We¡¯ll evaluate everything at the end.¡±


    ¡°Mana flows through this world, and many others, much like currents in the ocean. My sect was a group of cultivators dedicated to the collection and preservation of our world¡¯s knowledge. We were working towards building the mana infrastructure of our planet up to the point where we could establish a world capital, and begin to take part in, and learn from, the wider cosmos. Around 1500 years ago, a group with the opposite goals cut this world off from the cosmic mana currents. The information I have is fragmented, but it seems they built a series of arrays in secret, and activated them all while simultaneously attacking some of the world¡¯s most powerful sects.


    ¡°Cutting the world off suddenly crippled most sects, as their elders found themselves without the mana they were accustomed to. Some, like my order, were brought to violent ends, the mortal populations scattered. Others, I suspect, faded over time as the mana of the world became more and more diffuse. Eventually, only the barest of magic would have been possible. Imagine life in the ocean if the entire thing became shallow as a pond all at once. Possible maybe but most things would flounder.


    ¡°This process of separating our world from all the others was always destined to fail, the cosmic mana flows are just too strong. Recently, the seals have been worn down, and the mana of the universe can once again infuse our world. Madam Skycrest should be able to attest that over the last years, the mana around Verilia would have become easier to access, but also harder to work with. In the upcoming years, we will begin seeing a proliferation of plants and animals infused with enough mana to fundamentally change.


    Another pause, this time glancing towards Madam Skycrest. The magical expert nodded her agreement to this description. ¡°That is in line with our own observations,¡± she said.


    ¡°All life draws in mana, but sentient life increases the density along with the speed and flow,¡± Laurel continued in her explanation. She had practiced with Adam and Annette to avoid getting bogged down in too many technical details and explain in modern terms. ¡°Imagine a sheet stretched and held flat. Mana is pouring onto the sheet evenly, and flowing around in various currents. Each human is like a grain of rice placed on the sheet. Individually they will cause minor eddies in the flow. However in cities like this one, we have many thousands of grains all clustered together, and more water will be drawn in as the sheet is weighed down. This means the cities will see the changes of the mana infusion faster than anywhere else. Monsters will be drawn here. Eventually, the mana density will rise enough that we will be able to see the occasional monster or cultivator from another world stop in.¡±


    Laurel took a sip of the tea that had been placed by an almost invisible servant. The blend was smooth and felt perfect to soothe a throat that had to talk for a long while. The King and his advisors were doing an admirable job keeping their emotions off their faces, but she had faced enough opponents to see the alarm rising. Madam Skycrest, who could actually feel the ambient mana, looked the most concerned.


    ¡°In my time, we had strategies for turning population centers from hazards into safe zones. Sufficiently advanced cultivators can access a certain magical structure that develops in regions with enough population and mana. These City Cores can be used to bend the ambient mana to improve infrastructure or defense, which prevents accumulation to the point of monsters appearing inside the City. Developing the cores can unlock incredible abilities. With a world-capital Core, an army of cultivators would not be enough to threaten the city. Not to mention the interplanetary teleportation and trade opportunities.


    ¡°I wish to re-establish my order of cultivators, and will need support from you all for this endeavor. We would train new cultivators, while maintaining and adding to the collection of our world¡¯s knowledge, which will be made available to those who seek it at our discretion. While we would of course defend against any attack on our home city, we would not be under your command beyond following the laws of the land. In return, I will take over the management of the Verilian City Core until it reaches the level of world capital, and train other cultivators how to access the cores of other population centers.¡±


    There was a moment of silence when she concluded her explanation. Everyone looked to the king to be the first to reply. ¡°You would like permission to establish an independent ¡­college? guild? of extremely dangerous individuals within my capital city, and in exchange you are willing to take control of an extremely important resource for an indeterminate amount of time. And of course we need to do this because otherwise some very bad things will happen, of which we have no proof?¡±


    Laurel was aware this would be surprising to anyone who had never been educated in spiritual matters, and used that to rein in her frustration. Just. She had already spent so much time entrenching herself in this city, this had to work without her temper ruining it.


    ¡°Madam Skycrest is clearly an adept-level vortex cultivator. I¡¯m sure she can corroborate the changes in mana flows in recent years. As for the rest, I can provide some first-hand accounts of masters in the final days of my order.


    ¡°I do not know what histories have survived, but the Eternal Archive has always had strict requirements on its members. We maintained independence from any nation, but all members beyond the initiate stage were required to swear soul oaths. These increased in requirements as a member increased in power and responsibility within the sect. Before I was imprisoned, I was a master of the sect. I would be willing to swear on my soul that I have spoken no falsehoods. I doubt you have cultivators here who are advanced enough to verify this, but everything I have said is the truth.¡±


    The king looked to Adam and Annette, who had heard this before, and asked their opinions. ¡°You all believe this?¡±


    ¡°Laurel and I went into the countryside and found a chrysalis of some magic monster that is going to hatch soon. I¡¯ve seen her do things I would have bet my life¡¯s savings were impossible. She¡¯s in possession of an ancient library. I fully intend to join the sect once we have been formally re-established.¡± Adam¡¯s declaration made Laurel smile. As gruff as he tried to come across, he had a sense of adventure, and cared about the people in his home city.


    ¡°Laurel has been healing commoners for free. Of all the ways to get your attention, she¡¯s chosen a way that helps people. And she saved my fathers life, '''' Annette said simply.


    As much as she had chafed at the snail''s pace of their progress, Laurel was once more extremely relieved they had rejected her first several plans for getting royal attention.


    The rest of the council had more questions. Madam Skycrest wanted to know about the rate of change in the mana density to which Laurel produced a measuring instrument and gave instructions on how to use it. General Mansfeln asked about what kinds of monsters she thought they would be seeing, and was handed a bestiary. On loan, as Adam stressed.


    After another hour of specific questions on her past or predictions for what was coming, it was time for Laurel and her companions to go. ¡°We¡¯ll be in touch¡± the genial General Skycrest said as they were escorted out.


    The trio were quiet as they reversed the course of the morning. Out of the palace, through the upper and middle class districts back to their shop on the edge of the Flats. Their only detour was to a food stall to grab sandwiches for lunch.


    Laurel began the discussion. ¡°I think that went about as well as could be expected.¡±


    ¡°They weren¡¯t convinced when we left.¡± Annete opined. ¡°I think with Madam Skycrest there, we might have a shot, since she should be able to actually feel the changing magic. It''s hard to say, even if they believe us, they might not like your plan to manage the Core. They could just ask Madam Skycrest to do it instead.¡±


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t have the strength yet,¡± Laurel waved away the last concern.


    ¡°I bet they¡¯ll be sending some of the Fort Sarken recruits on a ¡®training exercise¡¯ through the countryside to see what they find. If they happen on another one of those monsters we might have some more traction,¡± Adam chimed in.


    ¡°We¡¯ve done as much as we can today. We will give it a few days back to the normal healing, and if we don¡¯t hear anything we will just have to try something else. In a worst case scenario we can move to another city to begin, though I¡¯d prefer not to become adversarial with the monarchy if we don¡¯t have to.¡± With that they separated to work on their individual projects for the rest of the day. Adam was working on a list of professions they would need represented in the sect, while Annette was contemplating what kinds of industries they could improve using what Laurel had shared about the capabilities of mana. Plotting out income streams and how to wring every drop of advantage out of each magical knick-knack. Laurel went back to cultivating, and meditating on what the next steps would be once she got permission to use land in the city.


    ********


    The king first looked towards Theresa Skycrest. ¡°Is what she said about the changing magic true?¡± They needed to establish what exactly they were dealing with in this fiasco.


    ¡°Yes, as near as I can tell everything she said makes sense from a magical standpoint, and explains many of our problems in the last several years. And why we finally got the planes working. The women who trained me had stories, legends of past sorceresses that could command the elements or fend off armies. I¡¯m beginning to think there may have been more truth to those than I imagined.¡±


    Madam Curson interjected with her own research. ¡°There is more than one account in the oldest section of the royal archives, of a great ¡®end¡¯ of magic. They aren¡¯t studied by many scholars, and those that have spent time reading the scrolls have interpreted them as metaphors for a moral decline. In light of this information, I¡¯m inclined to think at least part of the story is true. Though I¡¯m more hesitant to believe that she somehow survived locked away for centuries.¡±


    ¡°Does it matter if she was telling the truth?¡± General Mansfeln asked. ¡°Do we want a stranger to have that much control over the city? A stranger, I might add, that does not consider herself a subject of his majesty.¡±


    ¡°Can we afford not to?¡± Theresa replied. ¡°If she¡¯s telling the truth, we¡¯ll have monsters appearing within the city sooner rather than later. There will be casualties, and then there will be mass panic. Even with reinforcements from Fort Sarken, how else can we ensure the safety of the citizens? Stars above, are we at all prepared for actual sea monsters in the harbor?¡± Mansfeln grimaced at the idea of some sort of kraken crawling up the cliffs.


    ¡°You know, the healing was on purpose.¡± General Skycrest jumped in suddenly.


    ¡°What do you mean, dear? Obviously it was on purpose.¡± Theresa said.


    ¡°They weren¡¯t surprised at all when I showed up to see them yesterday. If anything, they were expecting me. I think the whole ¡®healing the poor¡¯ schtick was a way to get our attention.¡±


    ¡°It worked,¡± Mansfeln rumbled.


    ¡°Yes, but someone that can heal a broken bone or a fatal infection in a few minutes, could have come up with quite a few worse ways to get our notice. I had a hunch and spoke to the palace administrators that work with public grievances. It looks like she tried petitioning for an audience a few months ago.¡± The king summoned a servant and sent them to fetch a representative to confirm. ¡°She could probably have shown up and done a lot of damage, or made a huge spectacle to get us to pay attention. I¡¯m inclined to trust someone who tried to work within the system instead of hurting people.¡±


    The council fell into contemplative silence. The only sound was the rustling of pages as General Mansfeln and Madam Skycrest looked through a beautifully illustrated bestiary, written in ancient Alrasian.


    The head palace functionary was admitted and bowed low to the king. ¡°How may I please your majesty.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve just had an audience with a woman telling a far-fetched story about magic and monsters. Have you heard from such a petitioner recently?¡±


    ¡°Yes, your majesty, I believe so. A woman with a similar story attended three petition days several months ago. She worked with junior functionary Perrard.¡± The man hesitated.


    ¡°There¡¯s something else?¡± The king asked.


    ¡°Er, yes your majesty. When she arrived today, she detoured in order to give Perrard a bronze feather. She claims it is a magic pen and that she gifted it in order to honor him as a worthy adversary.¡±


    ¡°Very well, you are dismissed. We appreciate your service.¡± The man beat a hasty retreat, in no way eager to be involved with matters of magic.


    The king and council continued to debate back and forth for several more hours until they reached some sort of consensus. A trial period in which she would train others. Once they had their people in place they could re-evaluate. The whole face of their city, and potentially their kingdom, was going to change.

 Ch 21 - Lets Get Down to Business

    The rest of the week was business as usual, no messages from the palace came to interrupt their routine. Word had spread, with more people showing up for healing each day. They would occasionally have gifts of food or other goods to give in exchange. Laurel would have declined these until Annette took her aside and explained that turning down a Meristan when they offered a gift was quite insulting. The mix of visitors was changing as well. Still plenty of street kids, but a few more well off individuals would come in as well. Usually while looking around like they were afraid to be seen, and trying to touch as little as possible.


    Adam used his remaining contacts in the land administration bureau to research areas on the outskirts of the Flats where they might build a compound for themselves. There was little demand for the rocky land on the edges of the city. Or at least, no demand from anyone who could afford it.


    ¡°It¡¯s just another way those fuckers up hill try and screw over the people in the Flats. Even if they scrape together enough to buy the land, can¡¯t build anything without guild support, or at least the money for the Builder¡¯s Guild to look the other way. Can¡¯t get guild-affiliated builders without even more money, and they put pressure on anyone outside the guild that tries to do anything bigger than a house.¡±


    Annette was in agreement, for once without a correction. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re joining as many guilds as we can. It looks terrible for a guild to try and block anything from one of their members. The other guilds can sniff out any internal schisms like vultures on a carcass. That¡¯s actually how the Kitchen came into existence sixty years ago. Restaurants used to be classed the same as shops but the hours and training were so different, the restaurant owners and chefs were more and more frustrated with Small Mercantile Union. And they were part of the Merchant Guild until interests diverged too far. The Merchant Guild saw an opportunity to strike out at a rival and increase their own customer base and helped support an entirely new guild.¡±


    ¡°Does that happen often, new guilds? How do you keep track of what¡¯s going on?¡± Laurel asked.


    Adam grunted while Annette actually deigned to answer. ¡°Not too often. It takes a lot of time and effort to create a new guild, you need people to join in, have to answer all legal challenges from other guilds.¡±


    They lapsed back into their own work after that. Laurel privately thought it was all a lot more hassle than anyone really needed, but she kept that to herself. Criticism by a local was one thing, from a new arrival something entirely different. By the end of the week Adam had come up with several options. They were too close to the city for farming, they were too far from the industrial districts to build factories, and slumlords or government housing projects had not yet reached those areas. Annette similarly had a shortlist of trustworthy construction groups she had scouted out.


    The anticipated summons arrived, inviting them this time to Fort Sarken. They once more donned their formal costumes and set out in a hired carriage. ¡°Do you think the fort this time because they realized inviting a crazy lady with magic powers into the palace was dangerous?¡± Adam said once they were underway.


    Laurel gave him a light shove. ¡°Ha! Maybe. But hopefully it''s based more on logistics than anything else. Seems a bit easier to come and go from the Fort. Fewer eyes.¡± At least it didn¡¯t take quite so long for the carriage to get there. They chatted until they arrived at the fort and were forced to disembark for security reasons. ¡°Serious faces on,¡± Laurel joked as they walked inside.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    This time their guide was a young soldier. And instead of tense silence they were treated to a non-stop ramble about every bit and piece of the fort they passed by. He kept glancing over his shoulder at them and had to double-back at one point, having taken them down a wrong turn. He was bright red with embarrassment by the time they made it to the meeting room, and practically sprinted away once they reached for the door. The same council, including the king, were waiting for them once more, this time in an unremarkable conference room with no windows and a single map of the country along one wall.


    They repeated the standard greetings, and several aides brought in food and tea. Laurel took this to be a good sign. In the traditions of her youth, food in meetings indicates an intent to work together, and she doubted the world had changed so much that this was no longer the case.


    King Edward began. ¡°We¡¯ve debated and believe it is in our best interest to go along with the general outline of the plan you proposed in our last meeting. But we will need to clarify specific details. I can¡¯t have a group of powerful people running around my country, with no way of policing them.¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± Laurel replied. ¡°Where shall we begin?¡± She grated at having to maneuver so carefully. They agreed on what needed to be done and now it was time to do it. At least Adam and Annette knew how to tiptoe around modern mortal feelings.


    They launched into negotiations for everything, where the sect would be able to go, the kinds and quantities of the industries they would be involved in, the authority they would have amongst cultivators, what merchants they would be using, and a host of other topics. Annette showed she was worth ten times what they were paying her. Where Laurel would have accepted limits in what she was still struggling to view as anything but trivial mortal matters, Annette swooped in and pushed back, all without losing the serene smile on her face. By the end Madam Curson even looked impressed.


    ¡°I really think you¡¯re underestimating the importance of what we¡¯re doing here,¡± Laurel exclaimed at one point. ¡°You need us. We could build a sect anywhere if we had to.¡±


    Annette pounced to cut Laurel off before she could say anything else. ¡°Of course we want to stay here. Verilia is our home, and provides a unique opportunity to push forward the boundaries of what is possible with magic in a modern city.¡±


    The kick sent her way under the table bounced off, and Laurel barely felt it, but she got the message and stopped talking for a while, willing to accept whatever the others thought was fair.


    They worked from around the 14th bell, through until midnight. They had paused briefly for dinner, but otherwise had been working the entire time. The mortals were fit to drop by the end, and even Madam Skycrest was no longer looking her best. Laurel¡¯s own exhaustion was less physical and more along the lines of wanting to rip something apart after hours of debate over minute changes in wording.


    ¡°We will begin construction the day after tomorrow.¡± Laurel promised the council as they made ready to depart. ¡°Madam Skycrest, General Skycrest, we will look forward to meeting next week to discuss progress.¡±


    ¡°I think you should go with Theresa and Ridge, dear,¡± Madam Skycrest replied, ¡°we¡¯ll be seeing quite a lot of each other going forward.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re looking forward to it,¡± Annnete said.


    Laurel contemplated as Annete and Adam almost immediately fell asleep in the carriage. In several meaningful ways she had achieved the goal she¡¯d set upon leaving her old sect, and then fleeing Laskar altogether. The same goal Grandmaster Florin had set in what had become his last wish. A new country, a new sect, rebuilt from the ashes of their predecessors. That was her duty, and she had achieved it. But the amount of work ahead of them felt almost insurmountable. They had to re-establish an ancient sect, build up the City Core, help fend off monster attacks, ¡­and of course the area she was still shying away from in her own mind, teaching some new novices the ways of cultivation. She envisioned Borin, doing his best at the exercises she set him, but never quite grasping the thrill of cultivating for the first time before being cut down. If he¡¯d been further along in his cultivation he might have noticed the intruders and escaped. If she¡¯d been a better teacher, or more humble in her estimation of the Laskarian villagers, he might never have had to. Further back she recalled every time she¡¯d avoided a request to mentor a younger sect member, or take on a leadership role beyond her small group of friends.


    If she thought about it for too long she knew she would never begin. ¡°Small steps pave the way to the heavens¡± she muttered. She would focus on the most important pieces first, anchoring the City Core and raising a new citadel. The rest would follow if she could just keep her head above water.

 Ch 22 - Go Towards the Light

    The first day of the new Eternal Archive began like most mornings in northern Merista, mist-covered and gray. Laurel and Adam were at the empty lot where construction would soon begin, while Annette was confirming and bringing along the construction foreman and crew. Laurel found a spot without any rocks and sat in a meditation pose. There was very little in the area, which she was thankful for as her senses expanded.


    She could feel Adam beside her. He registered as a usual mortal, with a  low amount of mana, moving sluggishly in no discernable pattern. But it was enough that the potential for cultivation was there. A fear she had never even considered before had occurred to her after their last meeting with the royal council. That her friends would be mana sinks, unable to cultivate and connect their mana to the world. Stuck as mortals, willing but unable to grow. Some awkward explanations had been enough for them to allow a brief examination the night before, and she had been able to sleep without worry.


    Her senses went further and she could feel the scraggly grass and insects beneath her. One more deep breath and she plunged her consciousness into the rivers of mana that flowed through and around Verilia.


    She was lost, drifting amongst the currents. This was one of the largest cities in the world, and the mana flows were less astream and more a deluge. Her spirit was battered by torrents that had been untamed for centuries; her consciousness flung back and forth. She was a ship out at sea amid a hurricane. A thin thread of mana and willpower kept her spirit attached to her body, giving her a lifeline from the storm. All sect elders and grandmasters had been expected to take their turn at cultivating the City Core. She had always known she would eventually do her duty for the sect. But there, at the Citadel, the flows had been lovingly cultivated for centuries, their power tamed and controlled, flowing in well-worn channels. Nothing prepared her for the pandemonium of a wild Core. And not from some tiny village, slowly growing in size and population, but a fully established city of millions. She drifted for some indeterminable amount of time before finally making progress.


    First, just the small area around her physical body calmed down. Within the tiny safe zone she could exert her will and impose order. The mana needed direction. Once the flows were put in place, like veins carrying blood throughout a body, the mana would naturally continue to follow them. In an already existing city there was an obvious choice.


    Meter by meter her spirit was able to wrestle control of the local mana and send it flowing along the nearby streets. Flexing her will, she imbued the idea of repairing and strengthening, bringing order into the savage energy. As the chaos calmed, Laurel felt a pulse from something even deeper in the flows. The City Core itself.  Her consciousness moved towards it.


    The Core appeared to her mind¡¯s eye as a faceted crystal, pulsing with light. Size had little meaning in metaphysical constructs, and it seemed both small enough that she could tuck it in her pocket for safekeeping, and large enough to warp the fabric of local reality. It emitted a light that was colorless and contained every color. When Laurel reached out her spirit to make contact, she was once more overwhelmed.


    City Cores contained information from the cosmic mana flows that fed into them, as well as the history and knowledge from other Cores around the world, past and present. Laurel saw that she had access to blueprints in plans for buildings. There was more but it was behind a fog. Whole infrastructure systems, the potential to draw mana from the citizens, set up binding trade agreements, and slightly alter the local climate. Only hints and not yet available to her, remnants of Empires across the cosmos as they rose and fell. The mana around the city was strong, but the Core itself was still weak, liable to shatter if pushed too hard.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    When she reached the limits of her endurance and her spirit felt flayed, she returned to her body. The order wouldn¡¯t last. Within hours the city would be just as wild as it had been before. But after months of daily effort, the patterns she imposed would start to stick. A moment of panic seized Laurel¡¯s heart. She would be tied to this place for months, years, maybe centuries until someone else was strong enough to take the burden. Her whole body shuddered and for the briefest of moments she considered running. Get strong enough in isolation,  flee the entire planet, never look back. She took the impulse and crushed it. Hard work hadn¡¯t scared her when she started her journey and it wouldn¡¯t scare her away now.


    *******


    Adam and Annette watched Laurel¡¯s unmoving body. She had been in the same position for hours. The only indication they had that she was even still breathing was when Adam had put his face directly in front of her mouth and felt the faint breeze her breath caused.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get a stick.¡± He said.


    ¡°What do we need a stick for?¡±


    ¡°If we need her to wake up, I¡¯m not doing it from within arm¡¯s reach..¡±


    ******


    Laurel opened her eyes and thought for a moment she had injured her sight. A heartbeat later she realized it was nighttime. An exhausted Annette and Adam were sleeping nearby in the open field, on blankets one of them must have fetched. Too tired to do anything else at that point, Laurel crawled over to join them.


    The following day saw all three of them waking up at the crack of dawn, covered in dew and decidedly worse for wear.


    ¡°I¡¯m damp. And I can taste dirt. We are never doing that again.¡± Annette gagged and did her best to set her dress back into order.


    Adam just groaned as he rolled to his feet and tried to limber up stiff limbs after a night spent outdoors. Laurel just produced a heat crystal and a tripod for camp cooking and began brewing their first pot of tea for the day.


    When everyone was more awake, Laurel looked back and forth at both of her new companions. Last night had proved they were far more than business partners or associates of circumstance. ¡°Thank you both for staying¡±.


    They rolled their eyes almost in unison. ¡°As if we were just going to leave you sitting in a field,¡± Adam replied.


    ¡°Still, thank you.¡± Seeing they were both uncomfortable with that level of sincerity so early in the morning, Laurel continued on. ¡°It worked, I was able to establish a connection with the city core and partially tame the local mana flows. There¡¯s still more work to be done. Truly an unbelievable amount of work. But that should be a few hours each day, rather than endless meditation.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Adam said around the mouthful of cheese and bread they had toasted up for breakfast. ¡°Because the construction crew will be here in a couple of hours. Had to send them home yesterday.¡±


    At this reminder, Laurel got up and walked a small distance away. With a gesture from her right hand, a large slab of granite dropped onto the ground in front of her. She walked a few feet to the left and repeated the process with a chunk of gray marble. This was repeated three more times until they had a line-up of nondescript stones.


    ¡°Er, those are some very nice rocks, Laurel¡± Annette said as she joined her.


    Laurel laughed, though she could hear the strain. ¡°When I first woke up, I didn¡¯t realize how long I had been in the prison, or how the world had changed. I made my way to where I expected my sect to be, only to find it a forgotten ruin. I was entirely lost.¡± She paused but the pain wasn¡¯t as intense this time. It would always be there, but she was beginning to see the outline of a life where it was no longer overwhelming. She gave herself a shake and kept going.


    ¡°Eventually, I realized I had to rebuild, but that the old location wouldn¡¯t be an option. It was weeks away from even the tiniest village. So I took everything I could think of that might be useful in re-establishing the sect into my spatial tattoo. Including building materials. I didn¡¯t have the patience to scavenge the entire city, but I have enough for a few buildings. And the stone has been reinforced with mana over centuries, it would have been a waste to leave it all.  I also might have been feeling a bit vindictive, and didn¡¯t want to leave anything for someone else to find.


    ¡°I figure the construction crew can determine what materials would be best.¡± Laurel¡¯s explanation made enough sense and Annette shrugged and they both returned back to their little camp.


    ¡°How much room do you have in that tattoo anyway?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I haven¡¯t run into the limit yet. It scales with the strength of the cultivator¡¯s spirit. And I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve noticed, but I¡¯m actually rather good at this.¡±

 Ch 23 - Who Needs Architects?

    ¡°Now for the fun bit,¡± Laurel said, rubbing her hands together. Adam and Annette both perked up. ¡°All City Cores store blueprints of all the buildings that have ever been used to anchor any other Core. We can browse through to find the one we want and then direct some mana to make the building process easier. The Core is too delicate at the moment for much else, but we can manage this. And since this building will act as the anchor, a connection to the Core from the beginning will make things easier.¡±


    Annette looked intrigued at the idea of shopping for buildings. ¡°Can you make it so we can see as well?¡±.


    Laurel concentrated for a moment, until a miniature palace made of golden light shimmered into existence in front of them. ¡°This was the Citadel I grew up in,¡± she informed them. She pointed to a corner window on one of the wings. ¡°This was my room.¡±


    They all leaned in to get a better view of the place. It was a perfect recreation, down to the individual bricks and window panes. Adam slowly reached out his finger and poked the side nearest him. As he made contact, the wall he touched dissolved and they were able to see the interior as well.


    ¡°How many are there?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Far more than we could ever look through¡± Laurel said, ruefully. ¡°It''s not just the buildings from our world, but every other world as well. If we think of some parameters we can narrow it down.¡±


    Adam nodded and pulled out the notebook he had been working out of while Laurel had been healing all and sundry. ¡°Lucky for us then, that one of us thinks ahead.¡±


    ¡°Alright, the first thing is size. This is going to be an administrative hub and living quarters for the foreseeable future. We¡¯ll also need room to teach and store materials. And of course the most important point, room for the library. We¡¯ll add buildings to the compound eventually ¨C good call Annette on buying the neighboring lots as well ¨C but even so we¡¯ll need something big. Very big. We¡¯re essentially looking at something comparable to the noble estates in the higher districts or the university.¡± As he listed off what they needed Laurel filtered the available buildings. With a flex of her spirit she had the list show up in front of them on a stylized golden scroll made of tiny motes of light.


    ¡°Next, it needs to account for the climate. Winters here are tough. You do not want to be cold in the Flats in winter.¡± Some of the more exotic options dissolved off of their list, including a tropical bungalow, a few floating buildings, and a complex made from hollowed out trees and living mushrooms.


    ¡°We want to avoid anything that looks like a palace. The king appears to be willing to work with us, no need to push that.¡± Annette began adding her own notes. There were still hundreds of thousands of options to choose from at this point. ¡°Can we filter on style? Even with help from the City Core, Meristans are going to have to build this. We should try and keep it something at least vaguely familiar. Not to mention we still want something grand. We want to become a trusted institution, it will help if we have a little bit of flair or mystery in the building. But not so much that we scare people away.¡± Laurel focused again and most of the off-world designs left the list, along with anything that looked noticeably Laskarian.


    ¡°We still have a few thousand options. Anything else we can think of to trim it down?¡± They all contemplated this as Laurel had the floating image begin cycling through their options.


    ¡°Go back one!¡± Annette barked. Laurel brought up the previous building for a closer look. It was four stories above ground and two below, with tall windows on the upper floors letting in light from all sides. The roof had a glass dome observatory allowing for a full panoramic view of the surrounding area. The outside was blocky, but with enough flourishes and clever lines to avoid being an eyesore. A few balconies and rooftop patios broke up the imposing walls, and gave the whole edifice a more welcoming appearance. They prodded the walls to see inside.


    ¡°We could use the bottom two floors for the public areas. The healing area you were talking about, classrooms, or whatever.¡± Adam¡¯s eyes were shining. ¡°Third floor could be offices and the Library, of course, top floor for living areas, at least for now.¡±


    ¡°Ooh, it has an elevator.¡± Annette added from where she was poking around the corner. ¡°They¡¯ve started installing those in some of the more avant-garde noble estates. I don¡¯t see where we attach the cables though.¡±


    ¡°It''s magic, no cables necessary on the lift platform,¡± Laurel said. She made a wave with her hand and the image started to rotate.


    ¡°It looks like it was ¡®The Grand Observatory of Sun Mountain¡¯¡± Laurel said. ¡°Certainly seems appropriate.¡±


    They continued to poke and prod until ninth bell when a group of men approached. Their leader had the weathered skin of a life outdoors and corded muscles that spoke of hard physical labor. He must have been twice Laurel¡¯s size at least. Annette stepped forward and made introductions. John Lyman, the owner and foreman of the construction company they had hired to work on their project, was soft-spoken despite his large frame. A thought Laurel immediately felt guilty for, with her own small stature having been a point of contention in the past. They led him over to where the miniature version of the building still floated. Laurel tweaked the mana running through it and scaled it up to be as tall as she was.


    ¡°We¡¯ll bring it up to be a perfect 1:1 scale that you can build on top of. The mana will both help the construction go faster, and keep us to the most efficient build plan.¡±


    John let out a low whistle. ¡°This is quite the project you are looking to build. In a normal situation I would probably estimate a full crew around 2 years to completion, once we have the materials.¡± Laurel made a note to get something nice for Annette as a thank you for finding someone who could take mystical blueprints in stride. ¡°I have to say,¡± he continued, ¡°if I knew magic could make diagrams like this, I would have found a hedge wizard to join the crew ages ago.¡±


    ¡°So you can do it?¡± Laurel asked.


    ¡°We can. We¡¯ll do a walk through, get started blocking everything out today and begin some of the construction digging out the foundation immediately. I have a list of suppliers we can work with for materials. Anything else we need to know?¡±


    Adam took the opportunity to interject. ¡°We are going to be here for a long time. If there is a way to hire some Flats locals for some of the unskilled labor we would appreciate the chance to build some good will.¡± John readily agreed.


    ¡°Let''s see what this thing looks like full-size.¡± Laurel announced. At the same time the building projection started growing before their eyes until they were standing at the center with a massive city-block sized building outlined around them. Laurel closed her eyes and focused, and the golden glow dimmed until it was barely visible, hazy and translucent, with the foundation level appearing more solid.


    John nodded and yelled for the crew to start staking out the footprint. ¡°We¡¯ll be back tomorrow with the scoop.¡± He told them.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do in the meantime,¡± Laurel said. ¡°You might be surprised at the amount of dirt a determined cultivator can move.¡± John shook her hand and walked off without further comment to begin helping his crew with their tasks.


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    Laurel, Adam, and Annette left them to it, and convened over on the side of the worksite. ¡°What now?¡± Annette asked. ¡°It will take them years to finish the building, what should we be doing in the meantime.¡±


    ¡°It will be more like months. We¡¯ll get the hard stuff out of the way before winter sets in.¡± Laurel replied, being met with skeptical looks from the other two. ¡°It''s hard to describe but with mana fueling the construction, it will go far faster than anything you¡¯ve ever seen using mundane methods. But even so, I agree we need to plan our next steps.¡±


    Laurel decided to go first. ¡°It''s going to take a few hours every day to coax the amount of mana flooding the capitol into some semblance of order. I¡¯ll be working on that. I figure I can help with some of the construction as well, moving materials around. I¡¯m no mason but the spatial storage will be useful. We should also agree to some hours each week when we¡¯ll continue the healing at the storefront. It gets people to like us and has been doing wonders for my cultivation.¡± Annette looked at her askance. ¡°And it''s good to help people, of course.¡±


    Adam chuckled. ¡°Let''s see. I won¡¯t have any way to set up the library until the building is done. I can work on designing our administrative systems in the meantime. I¡¯ve been translating the book on sect management, and I think the contribution points system will be fascinating to implement. And of course I¡¯ll keep on the guild memberships.


    ¡°Which reminds me, we need an animal we¡¯ve caught and killed ourselves, processed into vellum for the Fraternity of Hunters. And I need to track down a stationary shop that carries blood based ink.¡±


    ¡°Gross. Why do we need that guild again?¡± Laurel was more confused than anything while Annette retched to the side.


    ¡°I bet spirit beasts will be classified as big game, and we will want to harvest them, according to the manuals I¡¯ve been reading.¡±


    ¡°Right, that¡¯s a good point,¡± Laurel replied. She pulled out a scrap of parchment she had written the week before. ¡°We should start on an inventory as well, for the resources we¡¯ll be starting out with, what we want to offer for new members, hunt any local beasts that pop up, plus the generals will want us working with their recruits¡­.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll work on scheduling.¡± Annette snatched the list from Laurel¡¯s hand and read through it. ¡°And I can research what we can sell or distribute when it comes to magic objects. Stars, every foundry, smith, or ceramics producer would pay an arm and both legs for that crystal we used this morning to heat up tea.¡± Annette said.


    ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± Laurel said. ¡°After buying the land and paying John¡¯s team, we¡¯re low on funds. I can take some more of the gold to the Royal Mint but you all seemed against that last time.¡±


    ¡°I told you. Too much gold at once and the value goes down. Honestly with the amount of silver you unloaded all at once you definitely got a bad deal.¡± Annette said. ¡°You two are lucky I found you. Get one gold bar exchanged. That will be more than enough for our expenses until we have a functional building. Anyone we buy from won¡¯t expect payment until delivery anyway.¡± Laurel bowed her head in acquiescence to Annette¡¯s superior understanding of the local economy.


    ¡°We¡¯re definitely forgetting something though,¡±Adam said.


    They all sat silently for a moment before Annette huffed out a laugh. ¡°People. We¡¯re forgetting people. We can design a perfect administrative system all we like, but who are we going to be administrating. We need to find some people who are currently cultivating or who would be interested in learning, who have the gumption to defy the drudgery of mundane life and challenge the heavens. That¡¯s how you said it right, Laurel?¡±


    Laurel nodded slowly while Adam mouthed the words ¡®drudgery of mundane life¡¯. ¡°Yes I see your point. But maybe we can wait a bit until we start recruiting.¡± Both her new friends looked surprised at the hesitancy.


    ¡°The army will be sending people soon. We may as well start getting you some students of our own at the same time. We wouldn¡¯t want the balance of power to tip too far in the government¡¯s favor,¡± Annette said.


    ¡°No, I know you''re right, just¡­¡± Laurel sighed. She couldn¡¯t find the words.


    ¡°What is this actually about?¡± Adam asked. ¡°You¡¯ve been focused on this sect for half a year and now you want to slow down?¡±


    This was it. She would have to bare her shame to them and let them decide whether or not to stay.


    ¡°I told you before I left the empire I attempted to start the sect in a small town there, and I left when I realized how intolerant the place was to magic.¡± She looked up to their encouraging expressions and had to look away again. She had enough blame for herself and didn¡¯t need to see the moment it replaced mild curiosity on their faces. ¡°That was true, but incomplete.¡±


    A deep breath, maybe the last before she was alone again. ¡°I was trying to follow the founder¡¯s example, start in a small town and recruit some new novices. I found one boy to join me, Borin. He was a teenager that had been run out of town for being a burden. I was teaching him how to cultivate along with how to track and forage, things like that. I left for a few days on what I thought was a hunt. I figured out later it was a distraction to get me out of town. When I got back to our homestead, Borin was dead. He¡¯d been tortured.


    ¡°I killed the cultivators that did it. Ripped them apart. And then another group right before I left the Empire.¡± She left it there. Nothing was going to make her give voice to the details of those massacres.


    ¡°Oh, Laurel.¡±


    She risked a glance at Annette after she spoke but the other woman looked lost. It was the usually acerbic Adam that had something to say. ¡°We all make mistakes. And we all have regrets. Can¡¯t let them keep hold of you or they¡¯ll drag you all the way down.¡±


    ¡°I know you¡¯re correct in that wisdom. But it¡¯s still hard to imagine adding more people until I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be protected.¡±


    ¡°So we¡¯ll start small.¡± Annette was back in perfect-posture problem-solving mode. ¡°Only a few to start. Merista isn¡¯t like Laskar, we¡¯ll be safer. Especially inside a magic building. We can start spreading the word that we are holding interviews in a few months. It will be difficult. Magic users around here still don¡¯t tend to advertise the fact so we¡¯ll have time in finding and convincing people to join for you to get comfortable.¡±


    Laurel reached further back in her memory, to the time she was once a bright-eyed young novice, excited to delve into the wonders of cultivation. ¡°Maybe we¡¯d have more applicants if we established a guild with insanely specific criteria for the paper you write the application on. But we¡¯ll be starting with mostly folks who are brand new to cultivation. It won¡¯t be ideal but it will be a long road no matter where we start.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll set a date for when we¡¯ll start interviews, and maybe figure out some advertising.¡± Annette was still thinking of logistics. ¡°We won¡¯t have anywhere to house these people for a while anyway.¡±


    Their conversation wound down, and Adam hunched over his notebook making a list of tasks for the week. Laurel wandered back to the spot she had cultivated the previous day and dropped back into the mana currents. Cultivating was much more appealing than feelings at that moment. The next few hours were a blur of slowly carving channels, using the streets of the city as a guide for the mana to follow. It reminded her of the singularly unpleasant process she had gone through to burn in her meridians. That excruciating process involved carving passages in her own body to allow her mana to continuously circulate, thus giving her a conduit to affect the world. Now she needed to do the same thing for an entire city. Less painful, perhaps, but far more tedious. And just as dangerous if she allowed concentration to slip. When she judged enough had been accomplished for the morning, she stretched from her static pose and wandered off to kill something for the Hunter¡¯s Guild.


    That evening, after the construction crew had departed, Laurel stood staring at the ground that would become her site of her new citadel. At the moment it was a bare patch of carefully leveled dirt onto which she was heaping centuries of hopes and dreams. The mortals of the modern era were ingenious, and she had no doubt they had some clever way to dig out the basement and lay the foundation. But no matter what, digging down dozens of feet would take them weeks, if not months. As much as she was fascinated by their machines, that was too long. Winter was fast approaching and it would be almost impossible to move the earth after it froze or work outside in freezing rain.


    She reached out with her mana, infused with her own iron will. She created a blade of air, as thin as her smallest finger, sharp as well-honed steel. Laced throughout were traces of her metal mana, lending substance. It was imbued with the honed cutting intent built up over decades of sword mastery. Satisfied, she extended the blade until it stretched ten feet in front of her hand. Fingers held together with her palm facing the side, she stretched her arm out and brought it down, the blade following the motion. It bit deeply into the earth, following the line laid out by the mana blueprint, still a hazy overlay visible in the rising moonlight.


    Laurel smiled and slowly walked along the edge of where the building would soon sit. Her hand stayed stretched behind her, as if she were dragging an invisible weight along the ground. She reached the corner and dismissed the wind blade. She walked ten feet along the next side of the building and repeated the process, walking back in the direction she had started until there were two parallel furrows the length of the build site cut into the ground. The next bit would be trickier, and involve cutting in at an angle. Nothing she couldn¡¯t handle. Soon she had separated a large chunk of dirt and stone from the surrounding area. She knelt next to it and willed it into her spatial storage. Between one breath and the next, a trench ten feet long with perfectly smooth sides and razor sharp edges had appeared between her cuts.


    Getting the storage tattoo had been the most painful experience of her life. Far worse than regrowing limbs or a shredded lung. Worse than opening her meridians or suffocating as she deepened her air attunement. Several elders had held her down while a grandmaster tidal cultivator had woven her spatial mana and a trace directly from the cosmic flows to give her access to the extradimensional space, and then sewn it into her soul. The process was risky, but the results had been well worth it. The tattoos were more secure than the rings many cultivators preferred, and unlike the rings, they grew with the strength of the cultivator. And it couldn¡¯t be lost. Even if someone cut off her arm, she would be able to regrow the tattoo, since it was imprinted on her spirit as much as her flesh. The technique had been one of the cornerstones of her sect. How terribly fitting that she was using it to haul dirt.


    Laurel continued cutting away at the ground until it was time to reconvene with the others for dinner. After they ate, Adam and Annette made it clear they had no intention of continuing to camp out and headed back into the city proper. Laurel told them she would stay and drop in at the shop tomorrow to confirm their scheduling. Today she had released some of her pain. Working through the night would help her remember that her path stretched ever onward, with plenty of time to atone for the past.

 Ch 24 - This Shit is Dangerous

    Two weeks passed in a blink. Even the unflappable John was surprised at the amount of work that could be side-stepped using some thoughtful mana manipulation and abusing a method of spatial storage. Laurel was astounded at her own eagerness to work on the building. She had been meditating for months on the extreme changes the world had gone through, between bouts of stewing in her survivor¡¯s guilt. Laurel¡¯s upbringing taught her to be practical about these things. Their path was a dangerous one, and the destruction of a sect, while tragic, was not unheard of. She had thought she was dealing with her change of circumstances admirably. The way she threw herself into working at the construction site put proof to the lie, as had her admission to Adam and Annette. Laurel poured her heart and every ounce of intent into building the new foundation, and felt this working to heal her psyche more than any amount of quiet contemplation.


    She felt lighter, laughed easier, and felt more hopeful for the future than any time since she¡¯d been freed. Her exuberance leaked into the rest of the crew. With an assist from mana reinforcement and one master cultivator,  the building had a foundation in place months ahead of John¡¯s most aggressive estimate.


    ********


    The evening before they would finish framing out the basement levels, an army messenger arrived at the dig site. Her horse¡¯s sides heaved like bellows, flanks dripping in sweat. The woman leapt off and ran directly at Laurel. She skidded to a halt and gave a smart salute.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am, General Skycrest has asked you to come to the fort immediately. I was told to tell you it''s an emergency, life or death.¡±


    Laurel took a moment to be surprised the general had reached out, his wife being the local expert. But only a moment. She nodded at the messenger without bothering to voice those thoughts. ¡°Very well, I¡¯ll head over at once.¡± She waved to John, trusting him to his work, and then set off at a run. The lack of other cultivators, and the practical aspects of her current labors meant that Laurel had not run all out since she arrived at the city. She did so now. Anyone that noticed her passing would see mostly a formless blur as she drew on her mana to push herself to speeds beyond anything a mortal could reach. The 4 and a half miles to the fort passed by in a matter of minutes, entirely filled with Laurel cursing the fact there still wasn¡¯t enough mana to fly faster than a casual jogging pace. The guards at the gate dropped their hastily-grabbed weapons as she appeared in front of them.


    Another soldier jumped up from where he¡¯d been leaning. ¡°You¡¯re faster than we anticipated ma¡¯am, come with me please.¡±


    Her guide brought her to a new set of rooms and left her with a stiff salute. With no idea of what this was about, Laurel entered without bothering to knock.


    Barging in, she immediately pulled up short. Madam Skycrest was laying on a bed, her body thrashing around, eyes closed, breath labored. Her husband was standing next to the bed with an agonized expression, pulling at his hair. The king and the rest of the council were standing around the room, grim-faced, and all looked at her when she walked in. Their expressions ranged from hope on General Skycrest to anger and distrust on General Mansfeln.


    ¡°Madam Stormblade¡± the king began, ¡°we are in need of your assistance¡±. Laurel was thrown by the use of the honor title but ignored it.


    ¡°What is going on?¡± she asked. Madam Skycrest was experiencing extreme spiritual strain but there was no obvious reason for it.


    General Skycrest was in no state to respond, so the king answered her. ¡°With your dire warnings, and the beginning of your new sect¡± he stumbled over the ancient phrasing, ¡°we determined it was imperative to get our own people a way of defending the country. Madam Skycrest is one of our most powerful sorceresses, and volunteered to attempt to view the City Core. Her attempt began several hours ago. At first nothing happened, but when the behavior you see began we sent someone to fetch you.¡±


    Laurel took a moment before responding. ¡°I¡¯m glad you sent for me. I should have made the danger more clear in our discussions. Madam Skycrest¡¯s current cultivation is not sufficient enough to ride the mana flows around Verilia in their current state, not without practicing with assistance first. When the Core is fully anchored it will be safer. Or if she had started in a less populous city she would have been fine. As things stand right now, she is experiencing the spiritual equivalent of being tossed in the ocean during a storm.¡±


    What color remained in General Skycrest''s face drained away while he listened to this explanation. ¡°Can you help her?¡± he choked out.


    ¡°I will try.¡±


    She approached and knelt on the bed next to Madam Skycrest¡¯s body. ¡°I¡¯ll need you to try and keep her relatively still, General,¡± she instructed. One hand placed on the unconscious woman¡¯s forehead, and another over her navel. ¡°This will be easier if I can maintain contact.¡± The general leaned over and gently secured his wife to the bed.


    Laurel entered a meditative state and tamped down on her own fears. If she couldn¡¯t find the sorceress¡¯s consciousness intact, there was no guarantee of Theresa ever returning to her body. In the first few moments it looked like there was no trace of the other woman and Laurel edged closer to panic. Selfishly, for the future of her own sect if she failed. But more so for the woman she had come to respect. Persevering, she happened upon the faintest flickering thread leading off into the wild mana of the city. She followed the thread, leaving her own, much more robust line back to her body. If Theresa had tried this a few weeks earlier, saving her would have been impossible. Luckily for everyone, Laurel had not been idle in between working on her sect house, and the mana currents had been tamed enough for her to hunt down Theresa¡¯s spirit, where it was being flung around and around in a spiritual whirlpool. The water metaphors broke down when one looked deeply, but at a surface level they got the right message across.


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    Finding Theresa was only the beginning. Now she began the arduous process of pulling her back towards her own body, without doing more damage in the process. Laurel used her own anchor to guide the lost spirit home. A few close calls at the point when Theresa¡¯s anchor thread seemed so thin it would snap with the strain left Laurel sweating. But eventually, she succeeded.


    Laurel surfaced from the meditation to find Theresa¡¯s breathing evened out, and her body lying still. She smiled at General Skycrest, and the tension in the room broke. Ridge sagged onto the bed, having been held up by willpower and wild hope, and now able to rest.


    ¡°It was a close call, Ridge, but I believe she¡¯ll be okay when she wakes up. It will probably be a few weeks before she can do any sort of real mana manipulation, but if you crush some of these into water and have her drink it every morning for the next few days, she should avoid the worst of it.¡± Laurel produced a bundle of dried spiritual mint. The sprigs were a literal balm to the soul, and most cultivators Laurel  knew would carry some for recovery after overtaxing their spirit.


    ¡°When everyone is recovered, we need to have a conversation. More cultivators need to be trained to start working on developing the mana infrastructure of your other population centers, and I¡¯m willing to help with that. Doing so without preparation is extremely dangerous, as you¡¯ve seen.¡±


    The king agreed while everyone else simply slumped, exhausted. ¡°Thank you, we¡¯ll be in touch soon.¡± Laurel left after that very clear dismissal, and decided to detour to the shop instead of back to the construction site. The process of pulling someone through wild mana currents had taxed her as well, and she could use some rest in a bed instead of meditating out in the open.


    *******


    She arrived at the build site the next morning, ready to help any way she could. John had told her where it would be most helpful to have the stones placed, and she jumped into the pit and began distributing small piles in a grid pattern. The mortals arrived and began working. An hour in and one of the mortals gave a shout.


    ¡°It merged!¡±


    Laurel walked over and sure enough there was clearly one extra large stone in the place where the man had  placed several.


    ¡°That''s a good sign. Eventually the whole building will appear to be one piece, as the mana strengthens and bonds all the stones together. In a few years it will look like a giant carved the whole building out of a single stone.¡± The men went back  to work, arguing good naturedly when some of the stones merged that it must be a sign of who was the most skillful builder. They kept at it and continued to follow the steps indicated by the blueprint.


    The next few days continued without incident, except for one invitation to dine with the Skycrests on the following rest day. Laurel dropped by the Rada¡¯s earlier than usual to continue Mr. Rada¡¯s healing regimen, and was glad to see the night and day difference in the man. He had come from death¡¯s door to joking around about joining in on the construction crew in repayment.


    Laurel was in an excellent mood when she made it to the Skycrest manor in the upper tier of the city. This was only bolstered when she was greeted by Theresa, looking recovered from her ordeal.


    ¡°I can''t begin to thank you for what you did.¡± she confided. ¡°I thought I would be able to handle the ¡®wild mana¡¯ as you called it, but clearly that was my ego talking.¡±


    Laurel waved her thanks away. ¡°No cultivators advance without making mistakes along the way. I had elders there to help me clean up my own mistakes, as I am happy to help with yours.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine how you handle it.¡± Theresa said.


    ¡°It is not without significant effort. I, however, had almost a century of cultivation practice under my belt before I tried. Not to mention that I was being trained to hold such a role eventually. Everyone above a certain level of mastery in my sect was expected to spend time managing the city core. Rotating the masters kept anyone from getting too complacent, while making sure no one was held back from focusing on their own advancement.¡±


    ¡°But now there isn¡¯t anyone else who can help you. What are other cities going to do?¡±


    ¡°Verilia is in a unique position in that it is far larger than most cities or towns. I suspect if you had started in a town or village out in the country, you would have been fine, or at least able to bring yourself back. As for other areas, it depends. There might be other master cultivators capable of riding those currents. It would have been difficult and quite unpleasant to reach that level with the previous mana density, but not impossible. They might relocate some of their population, or trust in their military to handle the threats. We won¡¯t know until we get more regular manifestations.¡±


    At this point Ridge had joined the ladies and chimed in. ¡°Laskar will never give any magician that level of power over their cities. Naxos doesn¡¯t like putting their cards on the table, so it''s hard to say for sure. Somorin will probably find someone local or hire out, they don¡¯t have the military to handle anything else. Eddie will be all over it for some sort of political maneuvering.¡±


    He abruptly changed the subject. ¡°Do you know when you¡¯ll be able to start teaching? We¡¯d like to avoid anyone else jumping in blind and being overwhelmed.¡± He reached his hand out and gently traced his wife¡¯s cheek.


    ¡°Our sect house will be finished sometime this winter, I think. At least the bare bones of it. The issue will be in finding students. I¡¯m willing to teach basic cultivation classes right now to almost anyone you can vouch for. That has always been common knowledge. The sect elders used to offer open lectures on the techniques every season.The more specialized information, I¡¯m oathbound not to share without certain conditions being met.¡±


    Ridge nodded, lost in thought. It was Theresa who responded. ¡°We¡¯ve reached out to some of the other magic users we are aware of. As you might guess, there is some reluctance to come forward.¡±


    ¡°In my time, sects attracted applicants by offering cultivation resources and instruction. The government could try something similar. Offering resources to those willing to grow a City Core in the various towns and villages. Place people you trust the most in the largest cities.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll probably do something like you¡¯re suggesting,¡± Ridge rejoined the conversation. ¡°As it so happens, there are a few members of the military with some amount of talent, and a few more that seem interested, so we¡¯ll probably send them over to you soon. One bright young pilot in my command seems to have some ideas about  applying magic to engineering. At least he¡¯s brilliant with the planes.¡±


    Laurel brightened at the news. ¡°That¡¯s good to hear. Tidal cultivators specializing in crafting are always in demand, and are usually better at high level City Core cultivation than vortex cultivators.¡±


    ¡°Tidal?¡± Theresa asked, confused by the terminology.


    ¡°It''s a designation we used in my original time, or at least the closest translation I can find. Vortex cultivators move their mana through their internal channels at high speeds. This allows them to pull in more mana more quickly, and control larger amounts outside themselves. The end result is explosive power. Most martial cultivators end up following this path. Tidal cultivators move their mana more slowly, but in a more complex series of pathways. They tend more towards enchanting, other crafts, and healing, and are usually better at fine control.


    ¡°The distinction is arbitrary. Any grandmaster can pull from the best of either school. But common wisdom used to hold that initiates started as one or the other.¡±


    ¡°Fascinating¡± Theresa exclaimed. ¡°This is why you called me an adept vortex cultivator at our first meeting. I¡¯ll admit now, I had no idea what you were referring to at the time.¡±


    ¡°Yes. The adept part is just how my sect used to measure power amongst members.¡±


    The conversation meandered away from serious matters at that point. Laurel spent a very enjoyable evening with the Skycrests, including their 4 young children. She spent the walk back to the shop being grateful that she had found somewhere to restart that appeared to be run by reasonable people. Every day Laurel felt the weight of everyone who¡¯d come before, and the pressure to bring them back from the brink. Evenings like this eased that burden and made her think it might actually be possible.

 Ch 25 - Day Trip

    After their dinner party, Theresa Skycrest began to stop into the shop for evening cultivation practice a few times each week. Laurel was riveted by her descriptions of how the cultivation teachings from her time had evolved in the lack of mana. Mana theory had been more of a chore in her youth than a passion, but the contrast was enough to keep Laurel engaged with the topic as she¡¯d never been before. Theresa in turn expressed gratitude for the knowledge Laurel took for granted. She gifted Theresa with an introductory cultivation guide from her own time to work through. The fact that it was in an ancient foreign language made this more of a symbolic gesture than particularly helpful, and so they spent these evening visits running through the exercises it contained.


    The others had been far from idle. The increasing notoriety Annette¡¯s network had generated, along with the massive compound being built supernaturally fast left Adam and Annette with an unending stream of strangers snooping around the shop. Applications for administrative and student positions once they took out some well-placed newspaper ads had also started to come in. This led to a crash course for Laurel from the two of them on the language of Meristan calligraphy and stationary. What they could infer from the paper and ink each person chose, and any designs or lack thereof within the application, which were well-meaning or condescending, and how the quality of materials reflected on the sender.


    Aside from organizing the applications and sorting out the actually promising prospects from the rest of the pile, Adam had completed the monumental task of recording everything Laurel had accumulated in spatial storage and was willing to put into their eventual contribution point store. Laurel had kept anything she had come across since getting the tattoo that she thought might be useful, not to mention everything she could pry out of the original citadel. As such they had enough cultivation resources, useful enchanted objects, and random junk to last them for years.


    Annette for her part had made rounds of the various industrial and business districts in the city. Just from what she had seen Laurel pull out for her own convenience, Annette was convinced they could make enough money to more than support their growing sect. There were mana crystals that provided light, some that emanated heat, and still others that created a small trickle of clean water. Even better, their application to the Merchant¡¯s Guild had been approved before any of the more recent notoriety, so the only barrier to selling them was their own time and effort. Laurel had told her creating the crystals was a ¡°good initiate exercise in mana control¡±, meaning that they would be able to have their future students generate them for contribution points, and then sell them to the general populace to cover their operating costs. Annette lacked the experience the other two had of belonging to some large organization, but hadn¡¯t let that stop her. Over dinner she even confided to Laurel that it was more fulfilling than any of her previous positions.


    ********


    Laurel was deep in her usual morning Core manipulation session when she felt the echo of an odd eddy in the mana currents further inland. She brought herself back to her physical body and wrote a quick note. She looked around the work site and spotted the small crowd of children that usually lingered nearby.


    ¡°Hello children! I find myself in need of a messenger this morning¡± she said while flashing a coin. There was some shoving around and elbowing until a boy in his mid-teens stepped forward. ¡°I need this note delivered to Fort Sarken.¡± She looked the boy over and then pulled out a jade seal. ¡°Show them this when you arrive so they know it came from me.¡± The boy nodded seriously as she handed everything over. ¡°You can have this coin now, and the same again when that seal is returned to me,¡± she added pointedly when the boy''s eyes locked on the gold. He ran off in the direction of the fort as soon as everything was shoved into his pockets.


    Her eyes ran over the rest of the children that were standing in the crowd. Several she thought she recognized as having been healed by her in the months she had been in the city. ¡°I might have some more odd jobs later I¡¯ll need assistance with.¡± Adam would grumble and call her a soft touch, but part of the reasoning behind the location of the sect was to improve the city and gain favor among the populace after all. Following through on the promise she just made, she sent another child off with a note for whoever was manning the shop today. They could potentially provide some general education to these children and get most of their basic maintenance for the sect done in one go if they were clever about it.


    Two hours later, she was once more roused from her cultivation by the arrival of General Skycrest, a couple of his aides, and the boy she had originally sent with the message, looking exhausted at having already been to the fort and back. She flipped him the promised extra coin as she approached the group.


    ¡°I see you got my message,¡± she said brightly.


    ¡°Yes. What exactly did you mean by a disturbance in the mana network? Should we prepare for an attack?¡±


    Laurel realized her note may have had the wrong tone. She held her hands up, palms facing out in a conciliatory gesture. ¡°It¡¯s hard to say exactly. All mana flows are connected, some at deeper levels than others. So when I¡¯m deep in cultivation here, or paying close attention, I can feel the ripple effects of events that happen elsewhere. Something happened around a few dozen kilometers that way.¡± She pointed off roughly south by southeast. It could have been a number of things from a particularly strong cultivation breakthrough to a strong technique. My best guess is a spirit beast breaking through some threshold.¡±


    The young soldiers behind the general looked unconvinced but Ridge seemed willing to believe her. ¡°I¡¯m taking a few pilots and specialists to check it out. Will you be able to join us, save us some time flying in circles?¡± Laurel readily agreed and sent another child off with a note for her companions explaining the situation before joining the soldiers on the way to the airfield.


    ¡°We can wait for you to grab some supplies,ma''am,¡± one of the soldiers offered.


    ¡°Oh no need for that.¡± Laurel waved him off and went back to her discussions with Ridge over the local environment and what kind of beasts might appear.


    ******


    Laurel found being up in the biplane delightful. She had flown before during battles with monsters or other cultivators, or sometimes just for fun, using her own abilities. None of that had the same luxurious feeling of being able to relax while feeling the sensations of flying through the air. It was probably helpful that she was fully confident in being able to save herself and the others should she somehow be forced out of the plane. The mana density threshold had finally tipped over the edge of supporting those more advanced movement techniques like long-distance or high-speed flight, and she was looking forward to an opportunity to take advantage.


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    She was sitting behind one Major Katherine ¡°call me Kat¡± Donahue, who had greeted her with a lit cigar and a warning about what she did to the last passenger to vomit in her aircraft. They were accompanied by planes piloted by General Skycrest, the young Captain ¡®Sidetrip¡¯ that Ridge had mentioned as having cultivator potential and Lieutenant Samuel Vorsen. Behind each of the other three pilots was a member of the local special forces. Their leader, Captain Varska had assured Laurel she was carrying enough explosive ordinance to ¡®drop any monsters we find straight to the other side of the planet.¡¯


    There was an easy banter coming across the transmission stones set in the plane dashboard, hinting at a familiarity from working together often. Laurel just sat back and appreciated the inventiveness of the planes, which actually ran off of mana crystals. Eventually she couldn¡¯t hold back the curiosity and leaned forward so her voice would be picked up. ¡°These planes are fascinating for a mostly mortal construct¡± she announced, ¡°but can I ask why they are being powered by lanterns?¡±


    ¡°The planes are powered by the crystals in the dashboard,¡± Trip attempted to explain.


    ¡°I can see that,¡± Laurel replied. But these crystals are clearly designed to work as lights.¡±


    ¡°Huh¡± General Skycrest¡¯s voice came across the sound crystal. ¡°The crystals were found in a ruin a few decades ago, and some clever bastard figured out how to hook them up to the planes. Same with the transmission stones.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite clever. Crystals and enchantments designed for the purpose would make the planes faster and more efficient. But really I¡¯m constantly impressed by what mortals have invented without cultivators around.¡± With that particular piece of dispensed wisdom Laurel leaned back to enjoy the rest of the ride.


    As they neared their destination, General Skycrest sent a ¡°Look alive people!¡± across their sound crystals. ¡°Laurel, any way to tell what we¡¯re looking for here?¡±


    Laurel looked out over the terrain. They were in the foothills of a mountain range, covered in a dense forest. ¡°I could sweep my senses across the area, but if whatever it is can fly, they¡¯ll probably come up to say hello¡±.


    ¡°We¡¯ll leave that as the backup plan. Everyone, we''re going to run a standard search formation, half a klick apart on the wing, 45 degree area of focus to either side, call in anything weird. Laurel, jump in at any point with whatever magic stuff might help.¡± In a well-practiced maneuver, the pilots all wheeled the planes around until they were flying parallel lines, each a couple hundred meters away from the next.


    For her ¡®magic stuff¡¯, Laurel sped up the flow of mana to her eyes to make it easier to see any plants or animals that had evolved from an infusion of mana. Another quarter of an hour flying in their search pattern Lieutenant Samuel came back across the line ¡°got something over here, looks like a family of rainbow deer.¡±


    Kat changed their course so they could fly by and get a look. Once she spotted the small herd, Laurel grinned. ¡°Aurora elk! I wouldn¡¯t have thought we were in the right climate but the mountains and the ocean must keep it cool enough.¡±


    ¡°Are they dangerous to humans?¡± General Skycrest asked as they reset their formation to do more sweeping passes above the spirit beasts.


    ¡°More than a mortal elk. They will be more likely to try and defend themselves rather than run away if we confront them. They won¡¯t seek out humans however, and they¡¯re still plant eaters. They also happen to be delicious, it wasn¡¯t uncommon in my time for sects to let herds develop on their lands in order to harvest the meat on special occasions.¡±


    ¡°You eat the rainbow deer?¡± One of the special forces members sounded interested and vaguely concerned.


    ¡°It''s a delicacy, yes. You do need a chef trained to work with spirit beasts to bring out the best flavor though, I can¡¯t imagine we¡¯ll find many of those in the kingdom.¡±


    ¡°Well, with that disturbing thought - ¡°


    Laurel cut the general off ¡°Do you people not eat venison, it''s delicious not disturbing.¡±


    ¡°Ahem. With that entirely undisturbing thought, we need to bring one back. Who wants to do the honors?¡± Ridge said.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, general, I can take down that older buck without too much of an issue, and store the carcass so no one has to smell it on the way back.¡± Laurel offered.


    ¡°Go for it.¡± he replied, when it became clear no one else was in the mood for some hunting. They weren¡¯t going to give up the chance to see a magic warrior in action.


    Laurel waited until their next pass brought them closer to the herd, and calmly jumped out of the plane. She heard Kat swearing as she fell, and manipulated the wind to angle her into the herd, trusting her reinforced body to absorb the impact. She summoned a sword to her hand just before landing amongst the elk. The glittering fur pulsed in different colors, shimmering like a living rainbow when the herd was bunched together. Before they had time to attack or run, her sword flashed out towards the older male. She wanted to avoid the calves and their mothers, so had to take down one of the more dangerous males. The elk did not have any natural defense and her blade slipped through its throat with barely any resistance.


    As the beast slumped forward with blood gushing out of the wound, the rest of the herd began to scream and paw at the ground. The young bucks put down their heads and charged antler-first. She dodged the enraged animals until she saw the injured one collapse. In a single fluid move, she dodged another buck¡¯s antlers, jumped to the downed animal, and sent it into her spatial storage. A small bit of mana was pushed into the ground as thanks. She then launched herself back into the air, and sent out a few strings of mana to bring her back to Major Kat¡¯s biplane, alighting on the fuselage and crawling back to her seat. The whole fight lasted only a few moments.


    There was silence as the formation turned back towards the capital until it was broken by Major Varska. ¡°Damn, woman. That was awesome, I don¡¯t think I even saw you make the hit. Might want to warn a body before you jump out of the next plane though.¡±


    That opened the floodgates and the pilots and soldiers spent a few minutes discussing their first look at a real cultivator.


    ¡°What I don¡¯t understand,¡± Captain Trip said, ¡°is where did you put the body.¡±


    This prompted a discussion of her storage tattoo and its many benefits, which lasted until they wheeled their formation back towards the capitol.


    ¡°So this magic shit is sensitive enough you can feel a few pretty deer from all the way back at the capitol?¡± Varska brought them back on track. She was reclining in the back of Ridge¡¯s biplane like it was a lounge chair, eyes closed, looking for all the world like a woman lounging on the beach, not thousands of feet in the air.


    ¡°Good point Major,¡± Laurel replied. ¡°I let the first chance to let loose in a while get to me, but those little guys alone wouldn¡¯t be enough to be noticeable, we should keep looking.¡±


    ¡°You heard the lady,¡± the general¡¯s voice came through, ¡°back to the search pattern.¡±


    They continued flying over the area, gradually encompassing more terrain looking for anything out of place. Half an hour after her fight with the elks, Laurel was reaching the edge of her patience for not doing anything. ¡°I think it might be time to give it a sweep, General. I¡¯m confident I can handle anything that might show itself.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m inclined to agree, Stormblade, and I¡¯m looking to be home for dinner so let¡¯s do this thing.¡±


    Laurel pushed her spiritual sense out into the surroundings, with an accompanying ripple through the relatively placid ambient mana away from the city. ¡°I¡¯m picking up something east of our current position.¡± she called out.


    Their plane formation looped around, just in time to see a boulder rapidly approaching. ¡°Son of a bitch¡± Kat swore as she banked hard to the right, narrowly avoiding the incoming missile. ¡°Where the fuck did that come from?¡± she shouted as the planes ascended to a safer altitude. As they moved in a wide arc, a tree trunk was launched out of the forest at the lead plane.


    Laurel was rapidly scanning the area the projectiles had been thrown from for anything of note until she saw a distinctive gleam in the canopy. ¡°It''s that grove of trees. I think there¡¯s a forest monarch tossing rocks.¡±


    ¡°Give us the headlines version on this one please¡± the general¡¯s mood had turned serious now that there was a threat to his team.


    ¡°Old, untouched forest, mixed with mana, gives us a giant semi-sentient tree spirit that holds sway over a region of the forest,¡± Laurel shouted to be heard over the plane engines. ¡°Dangerous if confronted, but still a tree.¡±


    ¡°Alright Varska, get the toys ready.¡± The general sighed. ¡°I¡¯d been hoping to get through this one without any explosions.¡±


    ¡°Forest monarchs tend to mean more spiritual plants or other natural treasures in their domain. If you don¡¯t have people coming through here often, it will actually be an economic benefit long term!¡± Laurel was quick to intercept. She would be sending students out here at some point if all went well.


    ¡°She wants to eat the magic deer and let the magic plants hang around¡± Laurel heard from across from the same soldier that had balked earlier at eating spirit beasts.


    The general thought it over for a moment before giving them the all clear to head back to the capitol. ¡°We can always come back and fight the tree if we have to.¡±

 Ch 26 - Lead a Horse to Water

    Before Laurel could return to the construction site to check in, General Skycrest called her back where he was standing with the young Captain Sidetrip, who was desperately trying to avoid eye contact.


    ¡°Laurel, Trip here has some familiarity with magic, and has agreed to train with you to learn how to use it.¡± A quick scan with her spiritual senses revealed more orderly mana than the average mortal. Respectable from someone entirely self-taught. ¡°We¡¯ll have a couple more officers for you once we get them transferred to Fort Sarken.¡±


    ¡°The general tells me you have some interest in enchanting,¡± Laurel said leadingly to the as yet quiet captain.


    ¡°Er, well, I have an engineering degree, which makes it easier to work on the planes. I like building things, and I¡¯ve tried tinkering a little with the stones that power the planes, hooking them into gears and things. I can¡¯t do anything like what you did with the elks, but I¡¯m from out in the country, where there¡¯s usually a local hedge witch so I¡¯ve seen some things.¡± He paused for a moment before deciding to continue. ¡°My gran was one of those hedge witches, always said she thought I might have the gift if I was willing to work at it.¡±


    ¡°Enchanting is the process of imbuing objects with mana towards a specific purpose and it is always highly prized. I look forward to seeing what you can do with it.¡± They determined a schedule when he would begin coming by for training. Brief morning lessons to start with while Laurel was still focused on constructing the sect compound, and they would re-evaluate going forward.


    ******


    Just over a month after first breaking ground, Laurel was once more enjoying tea at dawn with her friends. This time, instead of a dirt-covered empty lot they were sitting next to the skeleton of their new sect house. It was rising faster than even Laurel¡¯s optimistic predictions. The glut of ambient mana being channeled into the building during Laurel¡¯s sessions with the Core, along with the true expertise of those working on it was having extraordinary results. A scaffolding of stone and iron hinted at the ambitious network of rooms and pipework inside. Annette cheerfully informed the other two that rumors about the building, and their military visitors, were being printed in the major papers.


    ¡°And that¡¯s a good thing?¡± Adam asked. Their resident scholar was more aware of how to handle maneuvering of street gangs than high society.


    ¡°It''s an excellent thing!¡± Annette informed them. ¡°So many of our plans rely on people trusting us to defend the city. For that we need people paying attention outside of the Flats.¡±


    Laurel leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling the sun warm her skin as she listened to Adam and Annette banter good-naturedly. The others were bundled up against the chilly autumn air, but Laurel had always relished this kind of weather. Today would be the first formal lesson for some of the Meristans. Beyond her talks with Theresa Skycrest, this would be the first time she had truly taught others the path of cultivation since Borin. And even then, she¡¯d been too informal with his lessons. A few lectures in the past on some of the large-scale workings that were her expertise didn¡¯t compare to being the sole teacher for a group of relative children that had never intentionally cultivated before. Being the hands that molded the first steps of their path was a responsibility she had left to others. But there was no one else left. Instead she¡¯d be leaning on her sect manuals, memories of her own lessons, and a healthy dollop of luck.


    She opened her eyes and allowed herself to be drawn back into the conversation, shaking off the melancholy. It was good to remember, but lingering too long in the past would be the surest way to fail in her path forward. The friends continued to discuss all they had been up to and their plans for what was coming.


    As it got closer to the time for the lessons to begin, Adam and Annette were acting more and more nervous. In what Laurel recognized as an embarrassingly rare event, she had a flash of insight. ¡°Are you two going to try cultivating?¡±


    Adam looked vaguely nauseous and Annette determined as they both indicated they would. Months ago her reaction would have been a flat refusal. Weeks ago it would have been extreme caution. Now, she was able to respond with enthusiasm instead. ¡°That¡¯s great! It''s a long road, and dangerous, but I¡¯ve never regretted becoming a cultivator.¡±


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    ¡°What about when you got locked in a box for centuries-¡± anything else Adam might have said was cut off when Annette elbowed him hard in the ribs.


    ¡°Even then. All roads have their own challenges and detours, and if I had not been imprisoned, I would most likely have perished with the rest of the sect. Then the world would have felt the tragedy of you languishing as a curmudgeonly shop clerk, and we can call it a great victory that we were spared.¡±


    They passed the time in the comfortable nonsense of good friends.  Laurel set out some cushions and puttered around until her prospective students showed up. Theresa arrived first, with her youngest child strapped to her chest. She gracefully sank onto a pillow and accepted the tea while they waited for the rest. The soldiers arrived together. Captain Trip was joined by a tall, well-muscled woman wearing glasses and, to Laurel¡¯s surprise, the special forces soldier that had seemed disturbed by the idea of eating the aurora elk, who introduced himself as Reynard.


    ¡°Welcome everyone. I think we all know why we¡¯re here so we can dive right in. There are as many ways of cultivating as there are cultivators, but certain basic exercises work for most people and we¡¯ll start there. We can get into more specialized options as you all advance.


    ¡°Now, I know that some of you have already begun to touch on your own mana and some haven¡¯t, so this is where we¡¯ll start. Cultivation is the process of connecting your internal mana flows to the mana of the world around you, and leveraging your control, willpower, and understanding into some sort of effect. The first stage of intentional cultivation is gaining control of your internal mana flows.¡±


    The squeamish special forces soldier raised his hand. ¡°What is a mana flow?¡± Laurel paused for a moment at the question. It was so basic she hadn¡¯t thought to start there, but seeing most of the others also looked lost, she changed tack.


    ¡°Mana is the pervasive energy of the universe. It is in every person, plant, animal, rock, and even the space between worlds. Especially the space between worlds. It is also constantly moving. From ponderously slow deep within the earth, to a chaotic storm around cities. We refer to the general movement as flow, and specific currents as mana flows or tides. There will be a never-ending stream of water-related metaphors as part of your training.¡±


    ¡°Was that a pun?¡± the glasses-wearing soldier who had introduced herself as Reina whispered to her fellow students.


    Laurel pretended she hadn¡¯t heard and plowed on ¡°With practice we can exert supreme control over the mana in our bodies. Conventional wisdom says the amount of mana in our bodies and the speed it moves roughly indicates power level, while the intricacy of the network we establish indicates control and subtlety we can bring to bear. Of course both of these can be trained.¡±


    ¡°However, the first thing we will focus on is sensing the mana within your bodies. Since you are not yet novices, I will assist in this first step by using a tendril of mana to prod your spirit and wake it up to its surroundings. You will feel a small jolt when this happens, try to focus internally when you do. If you feel yourself slipping towards a meditative state, let it happen, this will open your spiritual senses more to feeling the mana around you.¡±


    Concluding the lecture part of the lesson, Laurel approached Theresa. ¡°Madam Skycrest, if you do not mind, you will go first.¡±


    With a waved hand to show assent, Laurel approached and placed her hand on the woman¡¯s shoulder. She grabbed control of a tiny amount of the ambient mana, slowed it down, and sent it flowing through Theresa¡¯s body. Since Theresa had already been cultivating, there were established paths to take but the rest of the students still saw the small shudder pass through the experienced woman. ¡°Continue meditating on your internal flows¡± Laurel instructed before turning to the rest of her small class.


    ¡°Now who¡¯s next¡±. They spent the next hour repeating this process. The new students meditated, or tried to, while Laurel periodically came around to send more ambient mana to connect with their internal flows. By the end of the lesson Theresa was still the only one able to touch on mana with any intentionality. The soldiers bundled off, somewhat disappointed that their first magic lesson had consisted of sitting around and trying to ¡®feel¡¯ something.


    Laurel walked up and stood next to Adam, who was staring out at the horizon, and waited. ¡°I dedicated my life to learning, and I pride myself on being able to pick up anything I set my mind to faster than anyone else. I had to if I wanted to succeed with all the rich kids having access to tutors and everything else. No one likes the feeling of being humbled¡± he finished, glancing to the side away from Laurel.


    ¡°There is no timeline for this.¡± Laurel replied. ¡°We can¡¯t schedule it, we can only continue trying. There will be other meditations that might resonate more.¡±


    ¡°I would have thought you¡¯d be in more of a hurry after all the work we¡¯ve done,¡± he countered.


    ¡°I am. But not so much that I think you should rush. You¡¯re my friend. An unstable foundation will only cause problems later, and stunt the growth of anything you put on top of it. And I¡¯d like you around for centuries to come.¡± The last was said as she clapped him on the shoulder and strolled back to start the rest of the day¡¯s tasks.


    ******


    The cultivation lectures and meditation sessions were scheduled for four days a week. Laurel covered fields of cultivation that had been used in the past, including enchanting and alchemy, basic mana theory, and some examples of famous cultivators from history and their feats. The meditations also varied. Sometimes she would lead them through a slow martial arts form that was intended to help guide the movement of mana throughout their bodies with regular practice. Other times they were set to do small, repetitive tasks in an attempt to trigger a trance. All reported progress but none of them had yet been able to connect to their mana flows at will.


    During one of her stories of past cultivators, Laurel began noticing that the crowd of children that usually loitered nearby was paying particular attention. The group had become a regular fixture of the sect compound since she started offering a few coins to run messages or perform other odd jobs. Laurel directed a stream of mana to make sure the breeze carried her words over to where they were standing. She had some half-formed ideas to build up the sect and give these kids some options for their future, and it was never too early to hear the histories of one¡¯s seniors.

 Ch 27 - Womens Work

    Annette made her way to the shopfront, which was now more of an office and storage space, except for the times each week they still operated as a healing clinic. Laurel had decided morning cultivation practice should start including exercise as well, and had been shouting things like ¡°controlling the world starts with controlling yourself¡± and other phrases that didn¡¯t quite translate but had the cadence of a truism. The end result of this regime was that Annette was no longer fit to be seen by the various merchants she needed to visit today. She couldn¡¯t wait until their new sect building was done. Trekking through the city a sweaty mess was not her idea of a good time.


    Refreshed and in a new set of clothes, Annette climbed higher into the city. Establishing the sect as an economic force was a delicate process and she was slightly surprised to find herself rising to the challenge. It was far more authority than she had ever been trusted with in any of her former positions.


    They needed to avoid making too big a splash before they had the manpower to back it up, but they also needed to establish connections with preferred merchants and artisans as soon as possible. She had worked the twelve years since she was sixteen years old in various clerking roles, up to the personal assistant to Madame Clarissa Laurent, one of the few prominent woman merchants in the city, then jumped to secretarial roles in the more mercantile noble houses. She knew the way business was done. It would have been another decade at least in any of her previous roles to be given the same level of responsibility, or compensation.


    Reminding herself of the trust her unusual friends had placed in her, Annette firmed up her shoulders as she marched into her first stop of the day with an elegant smile on her face. The young woman working the storefront confirmed Annette''s appointment, leading her to a comfortably appointed meeting room and preparing some tea. The room itself was styled after a noble¡¯s parlor, though on a smaller scale. Two settees faced each other, upholstered in a deep green velvet and embossed with the tailor¡¯s mark. The clerk left the tea service on a low oak table sitting between them. Annette allowed herself to be led, showing no outward signs of being upset or impatient, despite being made to wait for a scheduled appointment. Patience was never something she lacked.


    The man clearly felt this shop was his kingdom and customers merely arrived to shower him with praise and tribute. Annette had met plenty of such merchants. Stars, she had even worked for one, and she knew any reaction would put her at a disadvantage. She was not above some empty flattery to get a better price. Just because their coffers were full now didn¡¯t mean they could afford to show themselves easy prey for the better merchants of the city. If the last year had taught her anything it was that a comfortable situation could be ruined in an instant.


    The tailor finally entered after a few more minutes of Annette sipping tea and observing the room. ¡°Sorry about the delay my dear, you know how these things go. Now, I believe you spoke with my assistant about wanting to put in a rather large order.¡±


    ¡°Think nothing of it Mr. Cromwell. And that is correct, my organization will need uniforms in an array of sizes and levels of formality and durability. Since everyone says you are the best tailor in the city for people that appreciate quality and quantity, I came to you.¡±


    ¡°Right you are dear! Now let''s talk specifics. I¡¯ve looked over the designs you picked out, and I think we will average 25 silver per set. Three levels of formality and you are looking for a range of sizes, so that brings you to 22 and a half gold. We¡¯d do half up front and the balance upon delivery.¡±


    ¡°Now Mr. Cromwell, your work is certainly worth that and more, but we are a fledgling organization, just beginning to find our legs. I can see 25 for the most formal outfits, but surely the everyday-wear could be made for 15 silver each. I think 16 and a half gold would be more than reasonable.¡±


    A quarter hour of haggling and overly saccharine flattery later, Annette left Cromwell¡¯s with a receipt for a selection of uniforms sufficient for their growing sect, once they got around to recruiting anyone. It didn¡¯t matter, whenever they did, they would be ready. Laurel knew about the magic, Adam could design an entirely new type of organization and manage the library, along with the truly absurd number of guild licenses, but this was where Annette would contribute. The little details that the others wouldn¡¯t think of or have time for, but would be the glue that turned them from a thought experiment into an actual functioning organization.


    The rest of the day passed between visits to one producer then another. Annette was careful to choose places that were high quality, but not the very top tier shops. Those were hotbeds of gossip with news of what shops the nobles patronized spreading throughout the city, and even occasionally reported on in the papers. They were rarely worth the premium price. She also made note of what they might be able to sell themselves. A furniture wholesaler might want heat crystals to avoid any open flames near the wood and lacquer. More discerning salespeople would appreciate the light crystals that could be adjusted to show their wares to the best advantage. And always, she came back to the factories and foundries and how the workers could benefit if she could convince them to set up air purifiers.


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    ******


    Annette¡¯s mother welcomed her with a hug when she arrived for dinner. She allowed herself to sink into it. Her mother¡¯s hugs were the best cure for a long day. ¡°We hardly ever see you this early Annette, darling. With John away on the ships, why, your father and I are at loose ends.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, mama, I¡¯ll try to get in earlier.¡± Annette felt a pang of guilt. Her father¡¯s deteriorating health had driven her into a world of politics and magic, and yet she couldn¡¯t even be bothered to make her way a few districts up the hill to spend time with him before he went to bed.


    ¡°That¡¯s quite alright dear, we know you¡¯re busy. We¡¯re proud of how hard you work.¡± Annette was herded into the dining room, where her father was already waiting, perusing a paper popular with the working classes. He put it away when she walked in, and the strength of his embrace almost brought her to tears. Earlier this year she had been convinced she was watching him die, and now he was back to the gregarious man she¡¯d grown up with. ¡°Now, tell us all about it.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, things are going well. I have a real place with the sect, and I¡¯m learning magic.¡±


    An explosion of questions followed this declaration. Annette spent the rest of the evening basking in her parents'' warmth. She left the next morning fully motivated to connect with her mana and become a new kind of cultivator.


    ********


    Reina sprinted over the finish line of the obstacle course and stumbled to the side. She bent over her knees, panting and dripping sweat.


    ¡°Best way to wake up in the morning,¡± Captain Varska said from a few meters away, where she was stretching after her own run of the course.


    Reina joined her, following along with the movements as they both watched Major Kat finish at a much more leisurely pace. ¡°Yes ma¡¯am¡±.


    She may have privately thought that a cup of tea and morning paper were the best way to start a morning, but that wasn¡¯t what she signed up for when she joined the army. Major Kat finally joined them and sat on the least muddy part of the grass she could find. Varska transitioned to a series of body weight exercises. Reina moved to join in, despite the protests of her muscles.


    ¡°What Kat, don¡¯t feel like working hard today?¡± Reina was unclear how Varska maintained the same level of irreverent humor while performing a perfect squat. She supposed that was what it took to be one of the first female officers in the special forces.


    ¡°I¡¯m training Varska. Pilots need to be able to sit all day without locking up, need to keep the skills sharp.¡± The three laughed as the soldiers continued their workout.


    ¡°So Reins, how is the magic class going?¡± Varka asked.


    ¡°Its ¡­ good¡­ can¡¯t ¡­ do ¡­ much ¡­ so ¡­ far.¡± Each word was punctuated by a crunch. Her whole torso screamed in protest as she finished the set and laid back for a rest.


    ¡°But it''s good so far? I¡¯m not sure how I feel about giving some stranger the keys to the kingdom, as it were.¡± Varska¡¯s usually upbeat tone took a turn towards the serious.


    Reina paused so she could get a full sentence out. ¡°I think so. At least I haven¡¯t noticed anything nefarious. And Madame Skycrest seems on board.¡± Varska didn¡¯t look particularly appeased. ¡°If anything I¡¯m worried more about Laskar. I overheard the ex-scribe talking to Master Stormblade. Apparently she was jumped by some sort of wizard death squad before she left the capital.


    ¡°I mean, she was fine, but if they have that kind of resource, what is a regular person supposed to do?¡±


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s why we have you Lieutenant.¡± Kat added her own commentary to the story. ¡°For my part, I think the lady is telling the truth. Just wants to do her magic and form a school, and maybe fight a monster every now and then. A woman after your own heart Varska. If those Laskarian bastards have some second-rate witches running around, I¡¯m glad to know we have the real thing.¡±


    ¡°No pressure then,¡± Reina said, before remembering these were both superior officers. Luckily they both laughed it off.


    ¡°Pressure is what makes this job exciting.¡± Varska said. ¡°Well, that and the explosive certification.¡±


    ********


    Laurel stood with John, the foreman of the construction site, on the shell of the top floor of their sect house. The both faced west, the sun slowly inching its way over the horizon behind them. Fort Sarken stood as an imposing bulwark in the distance, beyond which the sea was a dark plane, looking for all the world like a portal into a new universe.


    ¡°Three months for the main structure, another 6 weeks for specialist work after that.¡± John announced, puffing gently on his pipe. ¡°Smoothest building framing I¡¯ve ever seen. Assuming you¡¯re right about keeping the snow out and keeping it warm enough to work when we hit winter.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡± Laurel responded warmly. ¡°Five months, if we give ourselves some breathing room. Let¡¯s see what we can get done in five months.¡± Laurel clapped John on the shoulder and then jumped through the opening where the wall would eventually go, landing four stories down in a crouch. She was greeted by a round of mocking applause as Theresa and Adam had already arrived for the morning cultivation session.


    ¡°Truly, the wonders of magic. One day I, too, will be able to jump off a building because I¡¯m too lazy to take the stairs.¡± Adam drawled. Laurel responded with a rude hand gesture, and immediately undercut it by laughing.

 Ch 28 - Igniting the Golden Furnace.

    ¡°If you can¡¯t use magic to skip the stairs sometimes, why start cultivating in the first place?¡± Laurel joined her friends as they joked over tea, waiting for the rest of the aspiring cultivators to arrive. Theresa¡¯s position as a known magic user and member of the king¡¯s council meant she was a constant source of gossip from the upper districts, and Adam¡¯s commentary had them laughing so hard they could barely breathe when the rest of the students showed up.


    With everyone assembled, Laurel announced she had a new exercise they were going to try today. ¡°Cultivation methods can be anything,¡± she began the day¡¯s lecture. ¡°It''s just the intentional movement, control, and refinement of mana. The actual actions you are taking or the way you get there is not important. I met a man once who would cultivate by orating. He would lecture, sing, recite poetry, and he claimed the variation in breath and the concentration it would take to keep on topic while looking internally helped him connect to his mana flows. We hated that guy, but it did work.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry but if today is singing I think there is an emergency back at the fort that they need me to help out with¡±. Reynard had taken most of the meditations with good humor, but the man had apparently found some lines he didn¡¯t want to cross.


    ¡°Hah! No, we''ll save that one for later. I did think we might mix it up and try something more active today.¡± They retired to the tent the soldiers had commandeered near the beginning of the cultivation lessons. A structure easily constructed by a few soldiers and large enough for command in the field, they could roll up the canvas sides to let in light or the breeze, while keeping the sun off their backs. With as cold as the days were getting, they mostly kept it closed up with some heat crystals tossed in the corners to make it workable.


    As Laurel hurried everyone inside, the students were confronted with a confounding array of materials. There were several clocks in various states of functionality arranged next to a tiny cart with a candle-powered steam engine. Around these were a random collection of nuts, bolts, other bits of metal, gears, some jars of glue, and a handful of tools. As they moved further into the tent they saw a table with piles of myriad beads and wires, another that held small blocks of wood and some knives, and still another with paints and a few canvases.


    ¡°Pick a craft or project to work on! Try to lose yourself in the work. With luck this will get you close enough to your mana that when I come around and give you a little jolt, you¡¯ll be able to sense it actively.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said fighters didn¡¯t use crafting to cultivate,¡± Reina asked. The normally reserved soldier looked overwhelmed by the choices.


    ¡°Not usually, but there¡¯s no rule against it. And for now we just want you to be able to touch your mana. We can get into what works best for your advancement once you reach that step.¡± Laurel was heartened by the evidence that the students were paying that close attention to her lectures.


    They spread out to investigate the options. Trip went right to the table with the mechanical bits and pieces, as everyone had expected. Ultimately, this exercise was for him, not that Laurel would admit it out loud. Seeing the way the young man¡¯s face lit up as he began poking at the expensive toy cart, she congratulated herself for coming up with this plan. The pilot was the only one of the new students that had subconsciously touched on his mana before, and Laurel was convinced this method would tip him over the edge.


    Everyone started on their craft of choice. Even Laurel decided to give the jewelry crafting table a try and let herself get lost in the task while refining the mana flows in her hands for a few minutes. Once they had reached a rhythm, she got up and began her usual routine of slipping some mana into their spirits to stimulate the natural movement. On her second time around the tent she realized Trip was deeper into a trance than she had yet seen him. Holding onto her wise teacher persona by a thread, she resisted punching the air in triumph.


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    As gently as she possibly could, she repeated her infusion, stepped back, and focused on her spiritual sight. The webs of mana in Trip¡¯s hands were remarkably fine, though the rest of his body¡¯s flows were rougher or nonexistent. She held perfectly still, fully focused on the spiritual plane as Trip realized for the first time how to actively touch the magic he had been vaguely aware of for years. He lasted for almost a minute, until with a shuddering gasp his focus and control dissipated and he slumped back in his chair.


    ¡°Congratulations!¡± Laurel leaned against the table and studied the young man, who was sweating and panting as if he¡¯d just finished running here from the fort. ¡°You¡¯re officially a novice now¡±. She pulled a water pitcher and a glass out of her spatial storage and offered it to him. ¡°The most important thing for the next few days is to pace yourself.¡± Her expression turned serious. ¡°You won¡¯t want to. You¡¯ll think ¡®that wasn¡¯t so hard¡¯ or ¡®I can keep going¡¯, and then General Ridge will have to send someone to come find me because you¡¯ll have passed out and they can¡¯t wake you up.¡± Trip¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°When you drop out of active cultivation, wait at least two hours before you try again.¡±


    Trip nodded and asked the first of the approximately ten thousand questions that she could see ready to burst out of him, ¡°Do I need to set up a mechanical exercise like this every time?¡±.


    ¡°It might be helpful to start, but isn¡¯t necessary. For now, any way you can get yourself to active cultivation is acceptable. You can take the cart with you if you promise not to go overboard.¡± Trip assured her that he would be the epitome of caution as his eyes and hands drifted back towards the table. Laurel flicked him on the ear. ¡°I swear on this sect Trip, if I hear you are not following my advice I will find a way to make you run laps of the Fort while dragging your plane behind you.¡±


    Trip gulped and very deliberately pushed himself away from the table and turned to see the rest of the tent. At which point the rest of the students erupted into cheers.


    ¡°Our boy¡¯s an official wizard!¡± Reynard shouted while elbowing Reina in the side. ¡°We need to celebrate, drinks on us at the Rifle and Crown!¡±


    The soldiers stood up to leave and then guiltily looked back at Laurel. They were met with a wide grin. ¡°I agree! The first steps down a new path deserve to be celebrated. Lead on.¡± Practice was set aside and the tent walls tied down as they went off into the city, to a rundown pub that catered to young soldiers. They ordered food and beer and took turns toasting Trip for his accomplishment.


    Laurel joined in with the rest of them, but found herself disconnected. Celebrating milestone achievements was a regular event in any sect, this should have felt normal, even comforting. But she kept thinking about the people she had known, and the celebrations they would never have. The loss, and the insane amount of work ahead of her to recover anything close to what they had before, threatened to overwhelm her. Greater masters than her had founded the sect, and a thousand years of cultivators had nurtured it. Who was she to think she could build anything even remotely similar?


    Adam settled next to her, gently bumping shoulders to break her out of the spiral. ¡°You¡¯ll be alright. Sometimes it will hurt more than you think you can stand, but you¡¯ll come out the other side. And if you have trouble, you have people around you to lean on.¡±


    ¡°That obvious?¡± she asked as they watched Reynard bait Trip and Reina into a drinking game.


    ¡°Only to others who have lost something precious¡± Theresa sat down on her other side after joining the conversation. ¡°If raising a family has taught me anything, you can be happy and sad and a million other things at the same time.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Laurel said simply. They sat in comfortable silence after that as the afternoon wore on and more people filtered in to enjoy an end-of-the-week drink, and instead got looped into their celebration. Even Ridge and Madam Cursan dropped in around dinner time to express their congratulations.


    As the sun set and everyone started eating the roast dinner and thankfully soaking up the ale, Laurel stood up. ¡°I don¡¯t know when I started sitting at the boring old people table but it''s time to fix that.¡± She stood on her chair as everyone in the increasingly crowded pub turned to look at her.


    ¡°Reaching beyond ourselves and into the wider cosmos is a feat many dream of, and few ever attempt. To achieve the first steps of one¡¯s spiritual path is an act to be proud of. This world was dealt a viscous blow many years ago by those too cowardly to embrace something beyond themselves. Today we see that despite their efforts, humanity will continue to move forward and push beyond our limits. To Captain Trip may you be the first of many, and may your path lead ever onward!¡± She lifted her glass and then drained it to the drunken cheers of the crowd.


    The rest of the evening was spent in a pleasant haze of alcohol and friendship. Laurel was a strong enough cultivator to mostly ignore the soporific effects, but allowed herself to be carried on the energies of the crowd as she embraced her new people and her new purpose.

 Ch 29 - Old Dogs and New Friends

    Waking up before dawn had not ever been Adam¡¯s idea of a good time. The freedom to sleep in safety had been one of the major selling points when he entered university, in fact, and was something he cherished. He groaned as he opened his eyes, legs aching from the previous day¡¯s exercise, but he forced himself to kick off his blanket and sit up when the alarm stone Laurel had given him started chiming. Reaching out blindly to the side table until he grasped the small crystal, he tapped it three times in a row with his thumb. He''d learned the hard way, when Laurel conveniently forgot to mention it, that it would get louder and more obnoxious until he turned it off. After his morning ablutions were seen to, he found himself on the way to the site of their eventual sect house and, more importantly, his fledgling library. A couple of hired cabs had taken to lingering on this street in the early mornings, knowing he often hopped a ride to avoid the long walk out to the edge of the city.


    Cultivation practice went about as well as usual. The lad with the head for mechanics was the only one of them that had seen any notable progress. Adam was sure he felt the twinges when Laurel came around and tapped his shoulder, but he was never able to hold on to it or find it without help. Laurel seemed unconcerned, telling them stories of cultivators who had taken years to reach an active mana sense, and then gone on to become masters or grandmasters. That reassurance was thinning the longer he saw no progress. This was what he was supposed to be good at! Stars above, Adam had even been considered a talent when he was younger, earning himself a scholarship for study at the city¡¯s biggest university, and a solid position in the Scribe¡¯s Guild after graduation. Even after his fall from grace, he prided himself on being able to learn anything. Getting kicked out of the guild like so much trash, it was never his scholarly ability in question, rather it was his ability to keep his mouth shut and eyes down that had been lacking.


    He tried not to complain out loud. Laurel was trying her best and the outlandish woman had become his friend. He had precious few of those and may as well try to keep this one. This time they were doing some sort of slow martial art dance. The scholar in him was fascinated by the practice, and the variety of cultivation methods Laurel was pulling out for them. The woman was almost manic at times during her research sessions, the loss of her last student obvious in the determination not to fail with any of them. The rest of him felt absolutely no resonance with the exercise. The art days and quiet meditation had been closer for him. But he thanked Laurel for the instruction at the end and walked slowly back into the city and the shopfront they were still using as a clinic, office, apartment, and official address.


    Laurel had told them many stories of her old sect. The Eternal Archive had been known as a hub of knowledge, with the most extensive library in the world at the time. The stories of past Loremasters ¨C and wasn¡¯t that a title to stick to everyone in the Scribe¡¯s Guild ¨C were of men and women that had been able to recall the placement of one book amid thousands, knew the minute details of the sect¡¯s history, and who could ferociously guard against any intruders. Adam was under no misapprehensions; he was woefully underprepared for this very real threat. If anything, Laurel was downplaying it. Some of the old academics around the country would absolutely be willing to hire someone from the Skeleton Keyroom, or whatever the unofficial thieves guild was going by these days. When it became known what lost texts and ancient primary sources Laurel was carting around, the intellectual elites of Merista would riot. Some of them might even resort to more violent measures. And all Adam would be able to do, if he even saw them, would be to call for help.


    Shaking his head, Adam carefully closed the sect administration manual he had been translating, that was failing to hold his attention, and exchanged it for the journal of a high level cultivator visiting Carillion, which had been a ruin even in Laurel¡¯s original time. The book was in remarkably good condition, Laurel had mentioned something about mana preserving the library, but he had gotten lost in the magical details. He took out gloves and turned each page as delicately as he could. The journal was an absolute treasure trove, and he¡¯d already found enough new information to present a paper at the Historical Society, were he welcomed to do so. Unfortunately, those guild applications were not available for an organization, and his personal application had fallen victim to Annette¡¯s budgeting. He got lost in the manuscript, thanking his younger self for being stupid enough to take a specialized ancient languages course at school.


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    *******


    The bell they had installed on the front door, which Laurel was unreasonably thrilled with for some reason, chimed out. He leaned back in his chair, feeling more tired than he could account for. A boy walked in, bringing along with the unfortunate smell of unwashed teenager. Adam guessed his age in the early teens, though it was harder to tell with the kids that lived in the Flats since they tended to be skinnier. He knew Laurel had some vague notions of admitting some of the street kids to the sect, but he¡¯d lived in this city all his life and he knew exactly how mean some of the little bastards could be.


    ¡°Can I help you?¡± Adam bit out as the boy stood there without saying anything. The boy shrugged and Adam was at a loss of how to proceed. Did the boy need help or not? ¡°Why are you here?¡± he tried. The boy pointed to Adam. ¡°You¡¯re here for me?¡± The boy frowned and shook his head. He took a few hesitant steps forward and pointed again.


    ¡°You¡¯re here for the book? You can¡¯t have it.¡± Adam clutched the book close to his chest, forgetting to be careful for a moment when confronted with the prospect of losing the priceless tome. ¡°Look I¡¯m not sure what the Thieves Guild is teaching these days, but you sure as shit aren¡¯t leaving here with this, and I¡¯m of half a mind to call the guard for the insolence!¡±


    The boy stepped back with both hands out in front as if to ward Adam off, frantically shaking his head. He stretched his chin up in a weird move and pointed to his neck. Adam was again put on the back foot, but he leaned over the desk to peer closer. There were ugly scars on the boy''s neck. Old and faded now, but the marks told a story of violence he must have been lucky to survive. Adam swallowed thickly at the thought of what could cause scars like that. He took another guess.


    ¡°You can¡¯t talk?¡± The boy let out a sigh of relief and nodded in confirmation. ¡°What do you want then?¡± Once more the lad pointed at the book with a look of longing on his dirt-covered face. Adam looked between the book and the boy several times before it clicked. ¡°You want to read it?¡± Frantic nods. ¡°Can you read?¡± Head shakes. ¡°You want me to teach you to read!¡± Smiles.


    Adam paused for a moment to consider. He wasn¡¯t Laurel, he didn¡¯t have the kind of eternal optimism born of a lifetime of privilege. He knew they wouldn¡¯t be saving the huddled masses. But the boy was from the Flats and couldn¡¯t talk. If he couldn¡¯t read then he couldn¡¯t write. How had he been communicating up to this point? How had he survived at all? Swearing under his breath Adam knew he wouldn¡¯t be able to poke fun at Laurel for getting taken in by any sad story she came across anymore.


    ¡°Alright, I can teach you, but you need to clean up before you touch any of these books. There¡¯s a bathing chamber and soap in the back, last door on the right. Make use of them and then come back out. And don¡¯t go poking your nose in anywhere else, you won¡¯t like who comes after you if I catch you stealing!¡±


    While the boy wandered further into their small building, Adam started sketching out the alphabet on some sheets of paper he had stashed in the desk. Thinking about what he could show the lad. Ancient Alrasian was probably not the place to start. They had a couple of old newspapers lying around that might serve better and when he went to fetch them from the dining room he saw the boy staring ferally at the remains of a loaf Adam had forgotten to put away that morning. No one learns on an empty stomach, Adam reminded himself. He tossed the bread to the boy and ushered him back to the front.


    ¡°Do you have a name?¡± More nodding from the lad. ¡°Er, do you have any way of telling me the name?¡± This time Adam was surprised by the nods. The boy picked up the pen Adam kept on the desk and very carefully proceeded to write ¡®Leander¡¯ in large blocky letters.


    ¡°Good lad, Leander.¡± He gave the boy an awkward pat on the shoulder, internally panicking. Since he had little in the way of responsibilities until the sect building was further along, he might as well give it a try. They spent the afternoon working. Leander painstakingly copied the letters Adam wrote out for him, while Adam came up with some basic word lists to go over. After a simple dinner that Adam felt compelled to share with the obviously underfed boy it was time to finish for the day. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m busy in the mornings but I should be here in the afternoons if you want to come back.¡±


    Adam was smiling as he got ready for bed. Laying down he thought less of his struggles with cultivating, and instead how he could teach Leander the wonders of the written word. He fell asleep with a slight smile, feeling optimistic about the next day for the first time in a while.

 Ch 30 - Advanced Mindfulness Tactics

    The crowning feature of the sect house would be a mana-reinforced glass dome equipped with a host of useful magical features they had politely declined to describe to their regular military visitors. Creating this was Laurel¡¯s next project and she was quite glad the blueprints they were following included specific instructions. She had only ever been a passable enchanter and the plans she was looking at were intimidating to say the least. The mana flowing through the build site would cover for her shortcomings.


    No one else in her little class had broken through to active cultivation after Trip, but everyone reported they felt closer. The ambient mana had been tamed enough that Theresa could begin to touch the deeper flows, with Laurel acting as a spiritual anchor. It was good progress by any measure. Despite that, she went to bed at night feeling wholly inadequate. She did her best to channel the anxiety into her projects, spending hours reading on new cultivation methods for her students to try. It was exhausting. Not physically, or mentally, or even spiritually. But the weight of her responsibilities was slowly wearing her down. She just needed her friends to get stronger and for the sect house to be finished. It would all be perfectly fine. The summer solstice had come and gone months ago to little fanfare, which Laurel found surprising. Adam explained that modern beliefs put much less emphasis on some of the classical holidays. Laurel in turn let him know that they would be celebrating the upcoming winter solstice in a grand old style. Planning for the celebration, still months away, was another project keeping her busy.


    Their lives had settled once more into a routine. Morning cultivation lessons cycled through a variety of styles, though they had all gravitated towards those that resonated most. Adam had joined Trip at the crafting tables, though it wasn¡¯t a perfect fit. Annette and Theresa both preferred more classic quiet meditation, while Reina and Reynard kept to the physical side of things. Occasionally Laurel would also let the watching children join in, and Adam had worked his way up to suggesting the previous evening that his new friend Leander join them as well.


    There were some surprised looks, therefore, when they all showed up to the next practice to see Laurel standing next to a pile of books, some cloth, and some rope.


    ¡°Sorry L,¡± Reynard was always the first to comment on the day''s activities, ¡°not sure I¡¯m up for early morning bondage.¡±


    Laurel laughed it off. ¡°If you aren¡¯t interested in this one you can of course always continue with the previous lessons.¡± Trip didn¡¯t even pretend to care and went over to his mechanics table. He had slowly been growing his abilities and could now cultivate actively for about two minutes every hour. He had put together some sort of miniature train from the cart he had started with, one that ran on mana. It was extremely inefficient but represented the first intentional enchanting he¡¯d ever done.


    ¡°It tends to be a more obscure practice¡± Laurel continued to lecture the others, ¡°but some sects would use sensory deprivation combined with stimuli to get students to a state where they had to use mana since their physical options were limited. I thought we could recreate this by blindfolding you all and tying your hands behind your back, then I could toss little sparks or tiny lightning bolts at you and see if you react.¡±


    Dead silence. ¡°I¡¯ve also brought some books and blank paper if anyone would like to attempt reading or writing.¡±


    Theresa and Adam both relaxed at that and went over to collect the books. Laurel looked hopefully at Reina, Reynard, and her newest pupil Leander. She winced internally. The first week of cultivation lessons for a suspicious street kid might not be the best time to tell him to put on a blindfold and wait to be shocked.


    ¡°It won¡¯t do any damage, and it won¡¯t really hurt¡± Laurel hurried to reassure her obviously skeptical students. A moment later they saw sparks bouncing between Laurel¡¯s fingers. Leander in particular went wide-eyed at the first real sign of magic. A miniature lightning bolt then flashed out of Laurel¡¯s right hand and into her left, with absolutely no effect. ¡°See? It will be fine.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you tell us before that one of your specialties is lightning skills?¡± Reina was clearly not yet convinced.


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    ¡°Yes! Laurel enthusiastically replied. ¡°And these last months with the City Core have done wonders for my control. But we can use other elements if you prefer. I can toss rocks at you if that would make you more comfortable.¡± Reina stood there bemused at the most sincere offer of rock-throwing that had ever been uttered in the history of cultivation.


    It was Leander who broke the stalemate by walking over to the table and tying a blindfold on. Laurel went over to help him with the hand ties and placed a stone in his hand. ¡°If you need to stop, squeeze the stone three times and it will let out a loud noise.¡± That spurred the soldiers into joining them, unable to be shown up by a child. ¡°You two can just shout.¡± She led them into a level part of the field outside the tent and made sure there were no rocks or divots for them to trip on. ¡°Great, let''s get started.¡±


    The next hour proceeded with Laurel tossing pebbles, sparks, small bits of electricity, glass beads from the jewelry table, ice, and pieces of cloth with equivalent ease and accuracy. She had been correct in that nothing hurt, but not knowing what was coming or from what direction was wearing on all of their nerves. The anxiety was almost palpable, the soldiers letting out more than a few creative curses that Laurel tucked away for future use. She added wood to her missile rotation, and found a way to toss water so that it flew through the air and splashed onto them. She even was able to manipulate the air so that small puffs were released against patches of exposed skin.


    When they were on the verge of taking a much needed break, Reina let out a wordless shout as the rock heading her way was deflected. She then collapsed and would have hit the ground hard had Laurel not manipulated the air to cushion the fall. At almost the same time they heard Adam scream in triumph from the tent. Laurel hurriedly sent threads of mana to untie the boys and rushed to where Reina was groggily sitting up.


    ¡°Two at once¡± Laurel announced, slowly leading Reina to the tent to sit down. ¡°My methods must be improving.¡±


    ********


    Reynard and Leander shared a commiserating look, but went into the tent to congratulate their friends. The group once more made their way to the Rifle and Crown for a celebration. There was a slight scuffle when the owner tried to keep Leander out of the establishment, but Laurel¡¯s hushed assurances she would look out for him, along with a few silver, smoothed everything over. Once everyone had food and drinks and they had gone through a round of toasts, Laurel sat down next to Adam with a gleam in her eye. He felt a chill down his spine at the sight


    ¡°You know, now that you¡¯ve started active cultivation, you¡¯re almost ready for the really good parts of the library.¡± Laurel said.


    ¡°What do you mean the good parts? What you¡¯ve shown me would already be enough to redefine our understanding of the ancient world. I¡¯m writing three papers. Now you tell me you''ve been holding out on me?¡± Adam was already fantasizing about first hand accounts of the fall of Carillion. Or the creation of the Pillars of Azareth.


    Laurel waved her hand at his comment. ¡°Those are just the mortal books. Useful and important for sure,¡± she quickly added the conciliation, seeing Adam¡¯s mouth open to expound on the importance of primary sources. ¡°But the real treasures of the collection are the spirit tablets and the legacy stone. Cultivators can leave instructions, stories, or even memories in crystal tablets that other cultivators can access later. It''s one of the main ways we pass on cultivation methodologies or techniques. Maintaining their integrity will be one of the tasks you get to take on as Loremaster. The legacy stone has all of the cultivation knowledge of the ascended elders of the sect. When a cultivator reached a point where they could leave this planet and explore the wider cosmos, they would first put a copy of all their knowledge in the stone. Remaining elders would extract pieces into spirit tablets for sect members to study.¡±


    Adam had been rendered speechless. He stared at Laurel in silence for a full minute. Leander slowly leaned in from the side with a finger extended to poke his cheek, jolting Adam out of his shock. ¡°You¡¯re telling me cultivators can pass on memories like that tablet from before, but with facts and crafting knowledge. There are some academics who might actually send assassins after us when they hear about that. This could revolutionize virtually every field¡­¡± he trailed off.


    Laurel slapped his shoulder. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry too much. You need to be able to cultivate at least a little to get anything other than a random mix of impressions out of them without help, or avoid having your brain turn to mush at the overload. That¡¯s why I helped the first time. We¡¯re probably still a ways away from fending off assassins.


    ¡°Now we just need to find something that resonates with Annette. Reynard will need more physical options I think, he always seems closest during the Stone Temple katas. Maybe I should have everyone spend a day running the obstacle course at the fort. It might be good to do that anyway, build up some muscle, eh Leander?¡± She hadn¡¯t forgotten the quiet boy sitting with them. The look on the lad¡¯s face made it clear he would be happy to avoid the infamous obstacle course. Laurel barreled ahead anyway ¡°Annette doesn¡¯t seem to be as close though. Not sure what the best options for her would be.¡±


    A tugging sensation brought her attention to her arm, where Leander had pinched her sleeve between his fingers. ¡°You have ideas?¡± she asked him. His response was to pull more insistently on her sleeve. He then plucked at his own shirt and then Adam¡¯s. ¡°Oh¡± she realized what he was trying to say ¡°Clothes. Interesting. Annette does seem to have an eye for fashion. You know she got us all sect uniforms?¡± Laurel was lost in thought at the idea. ¡°Hmm, maybe sewing? Arranging a clothes shop might work but that would be hard to source.¡±


    She turned back to the conversation at hand. ¡°Great idea, Leander! Say nothing and see much, eh?¡± More of their friends drifted over at this point and conversation drifted towards the present and away from future concerns.

 Ch 31 - Sect House

    All of the stone and metal work was done and the only major construction project remaining on the sect house was the dome. Several large sheets of curved glass would be fused into one piece and strengthened with mana. They had commissioned the glasswork at the very start of the building process, by John¡¯s recommendation, and had taken delivery the prior week. Laurel had been meticulously etching runes for the enchantment and smoothing out flaws ever since. The glassmakers had gotten quite a bit of business from the burgeoning sect, as the new building had been constructed to allow for as much natural light as possible. Unsurprising from the remnants of somewhere called the Sun Mountain. As such they had done their utmost to match the specifications given on the pieces that would form the dome. Unfortunately, with mundane methods it was ultimately impossible to avoid a few deviations from the measurements needed. John had hesitantly pointed these out to Laurel as they carefully arranged the pieces in the temporary wooden scaffolding constructed for the purpose. Laurel had in turn assured him that since she intended to cheat shamelessly by infusing the whole construct with mana and intent from the City Core blueprints, it would all work out in the end.


    Laurel balanced on a small platform on top of the scaffolding, just beneath the crown of the dome. Peering out between the supports, she could see they had amassed a larger crowd than usual. Their reputation in the city was about to change in a big way. The rumors of a magic building would be flying up the hill as soon as the spectacle got underway, Annette would be thrilled. She took a moment to offer up some thoughts to the wider cosmos, for the sect members that had already moved on, for those that didn¡¯t survive the fall, and for Borin, their most recent fallen member. From the depths of her memory she pulled up everything Farin had ever told her about his crafting hobbies, then it was time to begin.


    As Laurel closed her eyes and spread her arms out to either side, golden light trailed off her fingertips and towards the glass. One by one, each of the thousands of glyphs she had etched began to glow as the mana poured into the glass. Sweat dripped down Laurel¡¯s brow, but she didn¡¯t dare move to wipe it away. The blueprints from the City Core gave her a focus for the obscene amounts of mana she was channeling, but even with that assistance the delicacy was almost beyond her. It was taking every ounce of focus she possessed to keep control over the tendrils of mana as they split, and split again, like veins carrying life to every section of the glass. If she allowed too much in too fast, the entire thing would shatter outward. Too little, and the pieces would fail to fuse, and likely crack to the point of ruining the engraving.


    Time slowed down. The only thing Laurel could sense was the ambient mana flows, and the only thought in her head was ¡®don''t let go¡¯. It could have been minutes or days that she immersed herself into the enchanting process. Right when she was sure she would explode or pass out, she felt the dome ¡®click¡¯ into place. She took a shaking breath as she ever so slowly eased her full awareness back into her physical body. Hesitantly she opened her eyes to see the result.


    ¡°Fuck. I can¡¯t believe it worked¡±. What had been a dozen sheets of imperfect glass resting on temporary scaffolding was now a crystal clear, perfect hemisphere that had fused into the stone of the roof. Laurel cracked a smile and laughed. The power of the enchantments was humming at the edge of her perception. Defensive formations, far sight, temperature control options, and a host of other features would be accessible from the room below.


    As Laurel returned to equilibrium she heard cheering from the crowd outside. Good to hear the locals appreciated the success, as well as the overtly magical show. She climbed down from the scaffolding to see Annette and Adam beaming.


    ¡°We did it.¡± Adam announced, slowly turning in a circle. ¡°It seems impossible but we¡¯ve really built something here.¡±


    Annette smiled in agreement. ¡°And now it''s time to make it something to be proud of.¡± She started pulling fabric out of her bag. ¡°When we go out to meet everyone, it should be as members of the Eternal Archive. Put these on''''. Laurel felt tears well up when she unfolded the fabric and saw the emblem of her sect embroidered in silver on the back of one of the loose shirts she preferred. It had been over a year since she woke up alone in a forgotten dungeon. Now she had a reborn sect, new friends, and all the freedom and responsibility of leading them into the future.


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    They quickly changed and walked back out of the building to a renewed cheer from the denizens of the flats. The light show had attracted an even larger audience than she¡¯d first realized. Laurel jumped on top of a discarded wooden box and sent a twist of mana into the air to make sure her words carried out to the crowd.


    ¡°Thank you, thank you! It is my privilege and great pleasure to announce the revival of the Eternal Archive. We are an organization of cultivators, which you might know as sorcerers or witches, committed to the preservation of the knowledge and history of the people of Decorra.¡° The short speech was met with more cheers. Laurel was certain most of this was going over the crowd¡¯s head, and they were mostly cheering the atmosphere. She could live with that for now. ¡°Now that our citadel has been built,¡± another pause for cheering, ¡°we are looking for students. Anyone interested may inquire from noon to 18th bell, First, Third, and Fifthday each week for the next month. We will also be looking for mortal staff. Healing hours will be noon to 15th bell on Fourthdays. Now let''s celebrate! Food and ale are available for all in the adjoining field, provided by the Rifle and Crown.¡± This was met with the largest cheer yet as the crowd dispersed around the field to enjoy the refreshments.


    The Skycrests approached Laurel as she was talking with John, insisting that he and the crew stay and join the party as guests of honor. ¡°Masterful move with the snacks for the crowd, dear¡± Theresa complimented.


    ¡°Thank you, but that was all Annette. She thought we might have a crowd to mark the occasion and she was more than right,¡± Laurel said.


    They chatted for a few minutes before wandering off to get drinks. A few enterprising souls had brought out instruments, and the day was taking on the air of an impromptu festival. Annette and Adam were proudly showing off their uniforms and answering questions to those in the crowd who were curious about how a magic school would work. The rest of the Radas had shown up in force, including the elusive John, Annette¡¯s brother who must have been on shore leave. Even Leander was gathering an audience. Annette had given him a uniform as well, though of less fine material, more suited to children. He was proudly responding to questions from some of their usual onlookers.


    Eventually the nibbles ran out and the party wound down. Observers drifted back into the city and their normal lives. The building was still bare bones, and the deliveries Annette had spent so long arranging would begin arriving in the next week. Beds were more comfortable than bare stone, so even Annette, Adam, and Leander left, with the anticipation of new beginnings on the morrow.


    Laurel would stay and cultivate overnight, both as security, and to finish the last task she had for the building. A City Core was mostly a metaphysical construct, not something you could actually touch. But as the amount and turbulence of the ambient mana increased, so too did the need for a physical location to act as a focus and anchor. Laurel had been compensating for this with her daily cultivation, but that was just a bandage and not a long-term solution. It was time to do things properly. She returned to the rotunda on the top floor, directly under the center of the dome. John, in his usual quiet way, had ensured his team removed the wooden scaffolding while the party was going on, leaving the room empty but for bare stone and moonlight filtering in from above.


    For the second time that day, Laurel reached her spirit into the City Core. This time, she encouraged the mana to concentrate directly in front of her instead of flowing away. As more mana built up, a structure began to take shape. Once more, Laurel felt things snap into place. The mana solidified into a solid crystal pedestal coming up a bit past her waist. Golden light flowed up and down in thin streams from where it merged with the stone. A rainbow of other colors appeared in tiny motes that spiraled around the gold strands. The top was a smooth sheet of crystal, embedded with a top-down view of the city and surrounding countryside, etched out in gold, blue and green. It was still not fully mature. Classically, this stage would be what turned her settlement into a Village, with more work needed to reach the status of Town, City, and beyond. But in time this would help map out the infrastructure of the city, aid in defense, and act as a way to send and receive messages to other City Cores. Moreover it was a promise to the people of the city, even if none of them knew it. She was here, and she would stay, protecting the Core, and bringing them wonders even modern technology couldn¡¯t dream of.


    Before settling in for the night, she approached the west wall. Annette could decorate the rest of the building, but this wall would remain bare. An opportunity for the members of the sect to honor those that went before, into the wider cosmos or passing beyond the veil. The building still thrummed with mana and possibilities. With little effort, she forced her will into the stone of the wall, watching as it flowed like sand to form a small alcove. A vial filled with ashes appeared in her hand, which she placed inside. Another flick of her will and the stone flowed back, this time with a single name etched in a light hand. Borin had suffered for her mistakes, and Laurel would not do him the dishonor of hiding that fact. Satisfied, she pulled out some pillows and found a comfortable corner to meditate in, bathed in the moonlight and the glow from the pedestal.


    She would rest and recover from what had been one of the most tiring days she¡¯d had since she awakened, and figure out the rest tomorrow.

 Ch 32 - Terms and Conditions May Apply

    In one of their many, many empty rooms of gray stone, Laurel sat at a small camp table across from Adam, Annette, and Leander. Besides the table and the chairs they were sitting in, there was absolutely nothing else in the room, and those were only there because Laurel was a pack rat and kept more in storage than a reasonable person would ever need in several lifetimes. It would have been a dreary prison if not for the large windows set in the south wall, with a view looking out over the countryside.


    ¡°It''s time for you three to decide if you want to join the sect.¡± Laurel held up her hand to forestall the objections she could see on all of their faces. ¡°It''s important to do these things right. Up to this point you¡¯ve gone along with my ideas and agreed to join, but this affects your future and we need to make sure you¡¯ve thought everything through. Burdens on your spirit are not something to take lightly. Especially you, Leander. I don¡¯t want you to feel like you have to stay in order to keep learning. So we are going to go through the charter to make sure everyone understands what they are signing up for. Once your mana is imprinted, leaving becomes a challenge.¡± They all reluctantly agreed and Laurel picked up the paper and started to read out loud.


    ¡°Let¡¯s start with what the sect owes you. Any full member will receive room and board, basic necessities like soap and uniforms, and a modest stipend. To be determined by sect Quartermaster but no less than 5 tael per month. We¡¯ll have to work out a modern equivalent for that.


    ¡°They will also receive cultivation resources every summer and winter solstice, instruction in cultivation, crafting, basic academics, and physical combat as desired or appropriate. Members will receive the protection of the sect. Notable achievements and special occasions may result in additional rewards.¡± She continued on for a few minutes describing some of the specific details. After confirming they had no questions about what benefits sect members would receive she continued on.


    ¡°What members owe to the sect: First, each member will have duties each week to the sect. These may be in the form of official sect positions such as Quartermaster, Loremaster, Instructor, etc, chores for the maintenance of the sect or sect grounds, or tasks assigned by those holding official positions. Compensation may be increased if these duties take more than 15 hours each week. Additionally, a portion of crafting proceeds or foraged materials are owed to the sect, either in their processed or unprocessed form. Finally, you may be called upon in defense of the City or the sect, and you will be expected to give aid to any sect mates you find in need outside of sect grounds.¡± There were more specifics on the amounts and percentages involved, which were mostly emphasized for Leander¡¯s benefit so he knew how many chores he would need to do if he stayed.


    ¡°Contribution points. To avoid issues with external currency fluctuations or exploitative behaviors, these will function as the internal currency for the sect. Jobs or quests beyond official duties may be performed for contribution points. These points can then be spent at the sect contribution store for additional resources, training, or services. No one may forcibly take contribution points and they will be monitored by a system determined by the acting Quartermaster.¡±


    Understanding it was a lot to take in, Laurel paused. She took the time to ask them if there was anything in particular they would like to see in the contribution shop and tried to tease out any other questions.


    Leander finally took a piece of paper and slowly wrote out ¡®what are resorsays¡¯.


    ¡°Cultivation resources can take many forms. Currently you are able to see your own mana and maybe nudge it around a bit. You could probably infuse a bit of wood or make a spark to start a fire. But it would drain you and you would find it took a while to recover. To improve you need time and practice. At your stage, there are certain plants that naturally speed up and make the flow more noticeable and easier to direct for a day or so. That is what you¡¯ll get in a few months. It will improve your control if you cultivate during that time. In the future you will look to understand a given element or natural force, and aspected natural treasures will be useful.¡±


    She could see his eyes glazing over. Even the most dedicated 13 year old was still a child. ¡°It suffices to say there are useful things that help with cultivation.¡±


    They spoke for a few more minutes, discussing questions that they had and potential ideas for when they were able to grow. They also, at Laurel¡¯s insistence, discussed terms for leaving the sect. They would still be bound by the secrecy clauses, and if they broke them or took up arms against the sect it would mean violent retribution. The more advanced they were, the more consequences for leaving, including paying back the cost of sect cultivation resources. To no one¡¯s surprise, they all agreed to the terms. With that Laurel led them upstairs to the rotunda and the crystal pedestal housing the Core interface. Everyone placed a hand on the crystal.


    ¡°The City Core will bind the contract terms into your spirit. Try to relax into it. The process isn¡¯t pleasant but it will be over quickly.¡±


    They all followed instructions and a few minutes ¨C and a concerning amount of gagging and shuddering later¨C they were officially the newest members of the Eternal Archive.


    They arose early the  next day, the others having suffered through the less luxurious sleeping conditions of the empty sect house to be there as early as possible. They needed to make sure everything was set up to welcome potential new members. Morning cultivation practice these days was more varied but less chaotic. Now that everyone had learned some way to actively connect with their mana, they were focusing on what had resonated most with them individually.  Leander and Theresa worked through classical meditations. The boy was comfortable with silence and let it wash over him to cultivate. He¡¯d taken to it far faster than Laurel had at a similar age, though she was saving that tidbit to tell him when he reached a Master rank.


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    Reynard and Reina would usually spar or run a makeshift obstacle course, Trip was tinkering, Adam was translating, and Annette was embroidering. After a couple of hours, Laurel insisted on more intense exercise routines, at least for the full members of the sect. This had evolved to include self-defense classes, which Leander had been excited to learn would eventually evolve into magic combat.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure when this will become relevant,¡± Adam grumbled during class.


    ¡°You¡¯re the one who keeps telling us the scholars at the universities will send assassins for the books. Besides, there will be enough mana and intent flowing through your library that we might see some spontaneous paper golems or other nuisances. As Loremaster you get to fend them off.¡±


    Adam stumbled at the revelation. Laurel dragged him back to his feet and forced him to keep running. When they finished combat training he hurried off, muttering about finding one of the bestiaries in his newly claimed office. The sect members went inside to clean up and the soldiers headed back to the fort. Theresa, unusually, stayed behind to talk with Laurel.


    ¡°We are hearing more reports of monsters or confusing plant life popping up around the country. The rest of the council and I have decided that being able to stabilize Lanport the way you¡¯ve worked on Verilia is a top priority. That city is about one third of the size of this one, how soon do you think I can be ready?¡±


    Laurel thought for a minute before replying. ¡°You¡¯ve made remarkable progress in the last six months. I would say if you gave it another month and spent some of that time studying the local Core and how to manipulate it, you would be ready to shape the flows enough to keep manifestations from occurring within the city.¡± She hesitated and then continued ¡°It would still be dangerous, but I believe you¡¯d be able to do it. Leaving it any later and the danger increases more than the extra experience will overcome. You would also have to stay there for a time, and then visit regularly to maintain things, unless you have other cultivators in mind to take over for you.¡±


    ¡°There are a couple that might be able to do the maintenance, and be willing to work with us, but not many are strong enough to establish the Core themselves,¡± Theresa grimaced. ¡°There are a few other cities similar in size to Lanport, and of course all of the towns and villages in between. While we train some more people up, I¡¯ll probably be flying place to place doing the basics. The maintenance will be impossible, but at least their gardens won¡¯t turn aggressive overnight.¡±


    Laurel understood, though her traditional side balked at such a slapdash method. ¡°That¡¯s probably the best plan. Eventually more sects will appear and they will demand similar deals to ours, where they make certain concessions and promises to the kingdom in exchange for cultivating with the City Core.¡±


    After a few more minutes of chatting Theresa left with the promise of coming specifically to observe the city core and the work Laurel did each morning from now until she had to leave.


    That afternoon the sect members sat in the rather grand entryway with the doors propped open and waited for applicants to show up.


    And waited.


    And waited some more.


    After about an hour of sitting around, Adam cleared his throat. ¡°No one¡¯s coming.¡± he said with some chagrin. ¡°People are still cowards at heart. It might take a while for people to decide to join, or we might need to actively recruit people.¡±


    They agreed and tossed around ideas. Laurel was concerned about accidentally restricting their candidate pool too far if they recruited from universities or military prep schools. On the other hand, Flats residents were generally too savvy to believe sect membership was anything other than a scam. Towards the evening a stout, middle-aged woman with a no-nonsense expression walked up holding the hand of a thin girl of about ten. Both were neat and tidy, though their clothes betrayed signs of repeated mending.


    ¡°Come in!¡± Laurel said, ¡°we¡¯ve just brewed some tea, come have some and tell us about yourself.¡± The woman looked off-kilter at the enthusiasm, but joined in willingly enough, introducing herself as Esther and the little girl as her daughter Lucy. She took a deep breath and launched into an obviously rehearsed explanation.


    ¡°I¡¯m a decent cook and a housekeeper. This big building and all the fancy folks you¡¯ll fill it with will be too busy  to do their own cooking and cleaning. Lucy here can help clean as well, or fetch and carry, as needed. In exchange I would need a place to stay, and time to send Lucy to some lessons.¡±


    Having confirmed her position as Quartermaster the night before, Annette eagerly leapt at her first official duty. She began a standard set of interview questions she had prepared weeks ago, after their supplies had all been ordered. After a polite half an hour, with Lucy piping up to ask them about the pretty lights she had seen, Annette and Laurel stepped away.


    ¡°I¡¯m inclined to give her a trial,¡± Annette said. She was fidgeting and nervous.


    ¡°Eh, you and Adam are the only people I¡¯ve ever ¡®hired¡¯ in any capacity, and you both more or less fell into things,¡± Laurel replied honestly. ¡°I¡¯ll trust your judgment here.¡±


    They returned to the group. ¡°We¡¯d like to hire you on for a two week trial period¡± Annette announced. ¡°If all goes well we¡¯ll move to something permanent. You¡¯re welcome  to take quarters here, but as you can see, furnishings are fairly bare bones at the moment. Lucy, of course, can go to lessons when needed, or can join Leander in working with the tutor who will be starting next week. The salary is 15 silver per week if you live here, including board, and 20 if you choose to live elsewhere. Take some time to think about it and then let us know your decision.¡±


    Esther responded immediately. ¡°I don¡¯t need to think about it, I accept and I can start now. We¡¯d be grateful for the rooms as well.¡± Annette was thrown but went along with it. ¡°Let me show you to your quarters. We can take a little tour of the rest of the building on the way. Lucy, you''re welcome to join us or stay here or play with Leander.¡± Lucy settled back and the two women were off, with Annette listing out what each room would eventually be.


    That evening, they sat down to their first meal cooked by Esther. The new cook bustled into the room with a steaming, golden brown pie and set it in the center of the table. They were eating in the same entryway they had spent the day in while waiting for the rest of their furniture. Lucy followed her mother, very carefully carrying a large bowl filled with a fresh salad, while Leander brought up the rear with a stack of plates. It all went on the small dining set Laurel produced from nowhere.


    The only sound for several minutes was the clinking of silverware until Adam piped up, ¡°Well I certainly hope you stick around Esther because this might be the best thing I¡¯ve ever eaten¡±.


    The others started heaping similar praise on the flushed woman and conversation opened back up as they chatted about their day and what they expected. Leander would join in when he could write something fast enough but the boy was clearly frustrated at not being able to participate. Laurel made a point to look up advanced sound crystals that evening. She knew there were versions that allowed the users to actively manipulate the sound that came out, and she should be able to make one in a few days. Learning to use it might even be a good lesson in fine control for the boy.


    The rest of the week was more of the same. They added a Mr. Nicholas Mercer to their ranks as a groundskeeper, and a 17 year old named Rebecca that had previously come to the clinic repeatedly to heal bruising joined them on a partial basis as a cultivator -in -training. She wasn¡¯t yet a full sect member, but she was committed to training, and announced her intention to join the as a member just as soon as she reached novice rank.

 Ch 33 - Setting Up Shop

    The first delivery arrived from the furniture makers. A dozen carriages rolled up to the entrance drive, which John and his team had paved in a mosaic of leftover stones, carrying bed frames, tables, chairs, desks, and anything else they might need. Laurel flaunted the transcendent powers of a master cultivator by taking everything into spatial storage, and then dropping it in the rooms Annette indicated.


    ¡°You know, as Quartermaster, shouldn''t I get a spatial tattoo as well?¡±


    ¡°You need to carve permanent mana channels in your body first. Otherwise you¡¯ll pop like a soap bubble,¡± Laurel said


    ¡°Right, I didn¡¯t want one anyway. Thanks for the nightmares.¡±


    ********


    Adam was an uncomfortable mix of ecstatic and disgusted at the amount of money they had spent. With the deliveries rolling in, and a couple of teenagers needing to be kept busy with chores each week, he had all he needed to set up the library of his dreams. Even better, the ancient Loremasters of the Eternal Archive had left an intact catalog system, which Laurel had recalled and pulled out of storage a few months ago. Armed with a full list of their collection, he delighted in moving the piles of books Laurel removed from storage to their proper place. Most of them were unreadable by anyone without a specialized degree, but eventually that would change. He was already dreaming of the translations he would be requisitioning from the students in exchange for contribution points. He had taken it upon himself to translate a couple of the cultivation guides Laurel had been pulling from, and to pen a pamphlet for sect members, outlining their rules and procedures.


    ********


    Annette was in her happy place. She let Adam lose himself in his library while she got to decorate their sect house however she liked. While the old books had been protected, only a few of the furnishings had been salvageable, according to Laurel. So Annette had gotten to start from scratch. It was a childhood dream come true.  It had taken her weeks to shop for rugs, wall hangings, some inexpensive but tasteful art pieces and a thousand other small things to make this place worth living in, and she was up to the challenge.


    With Lucy¡¯s enthusiastic aid, each room was transformed from a gray box into something warm and functional. The rotunda, already the heart of their sect, got the most lavish treatment. Comfortable couches, low tables, and even a few potted plants were arranged in harmonious patterns. Lucy found the plants delightful and promised very seriously to keep track of them. Black and metallics were fine for an eye-catching uniform, but not ideal for a place anyone actually had to live. Instead she chose rich jewel-toned furnishings and prioritized comfort in addition to style.


    ********


    While her friends did the hard work, Laurel took over the magical drudgery. Light crystals were placed in sconces along hallways and in unobtrusive corners, providing a welcoming glow without being harsh. Water crystals found homes in the kitchens and in wash rooms. These took more maintenance than the light crystals, but the overabundance of  mana made it a non-issue, despite how wasteful it felt. Basic sound crystals were set up in the public areas to chime the time of day and sound an alert, which might become useful when they had anyone to respond to it. The rotunda-lounge, the offices, and a few of the other public rooms got small hotplates and heat crystals, along with low tables, intended to serve as tea stations. Because if she was going to be Sectmaster, she could do what she wanted. And she deserved tea in every room!


    Classrooms came together, and just in time, since a tutor hired from the university was coming to fill in the children¡¯s lacking academic background. Esther entrenched herself as the most beloved member of the sect by continuing to cook the best meals most of them had ever eaten. The deliveries slowed and they were able to settle into something comfortable.


    Two weeks after he officially joined the sect, Laurel was toying with an advanced sound crystal she had made for Leander. When he channeled mana into it, he would be able to make the words he was thinking project into the air. In reality it was a fairly rough creation. Even with the leaps and bounds her cultivation had made, she just didn¡¯t have the expertise for anything better. The crystal would need constant maintenance and recharging, and even with that it would only last a few years. There was no way to add any tone or inflection to the sound produced, either. She hesitated to give it to him. He mostly got along fine without it. After a few days, the rest of the group had stopped accidentally excluding him from conversations, giving him time to write or gesture to get his point across.


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    Laurel leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. There were fewer than ten people in her sect and she was barely able to make good decisions. One of her alchemy instructors during her own training had been a stern-faced master of fire. The woman was blind from some older injury, and had once berated an initiate boy until he fled the room when he suggested she needed to visit the healers. In the end she handed it over in a quiet moment after Leander''s reading lesson and assured him it was up to him. The boy was trying and failing to hold back tears when he accepted it. He vowed to work on his mana control until he could use it regularly.


    Morning cultivation still took place outdoors. General Mansfeln had started sending another handful of soldiers after the success with the first trio. Trip was almost at the point of sustained active cultivation, which was the next watershed her students would aim for. Despite having the shiny new sect house, Laurel resisted moving the class. There was something primal and invigorating with connecting to the energy underlying the universe while standing in nature. Or as close to nature as one got in a major metropolis, in any case. The second reason, which only Adam called her out on, was that the local children were still listening in on the lectures. They were driven indoors when the winter weather got too bad, but she wanted to stretch out the informal training as long as she could. At Mr. Mercer¡¯s suggestion, she even had John¡¯s team come back and set up a pavilion where the crafting tent had sat before. With some magic cheating and heat crystals they would be able to use it for most of the year.


    They were still lacking for students, but Laurel had plans for that.


    *******


    The Shipwrights Guild of Merista was smack in the heart the bustling port of Verilia and had the smell to match. Seaweed, fish guts, and coal smoke combined into a stench only those who lived and worked nearby could tolerate for more than  a short while. Leander hadn¡¯t complained on the journey across the lower reaches of the city. Though Adam was painfully aware that anyone used to the Flats would be able to handle the port without an issue.


    The guild hall stood at the end of a busy street which they traversed on foot, the carriage driver flatly refusing to try and go any further. Stone pillars made porous by exposure to salt accented the corners of the building otherwise made out of reclaimed ship wood in a hodgepodge facade. Two large women stood out front, their arms covered in nautical tattoos. Neither bothered to stand up straight as Adam and Leander approached.


    ¡°Hey there mates. What¡¯s your business at the Dockyard?¡± The one on the right asked.


    Adam held up some paper and gestured at the box Leander was holding. ¡°Putting in an application.¡±


    ¡°Oh! Well go right in then lads, though you might have to wait a minute for someone to help.¡±


    They entered, blinking at the sudden change in lighting when they were almost bowled over by a man with an entourage. Jumping out of the way and yanking Leander after him at the last minute, Adam watched as the man stormed out without even a glance.


    ¡°That, Leander, is an example of the entitlement of nobles. Once you start watching for it, you¡¯ll notice it everywhere.¡± They made their way over to a harried guild member at the services desk and dropped off the paperwork with little fuss.


    ¡°Next stop is in the markets up in the Cartine district¡±. Leander followed along. He rarely used his speaking stone outside the sect house, and even there he was prone to listening more than chattering on. Adam appreciated the peace and quiet. The two of them retraced their steps away from the guild and caught a ride to one of the nicer districts towards the top of the hill, after a quick detour for a snack. The boy was still thinner than he ought to be.


    Unger¡¯s Stationary was as pristine as the Dockyard was weathered. Perfectly painted in a pale blue, with careful displays along walls and shelves of paper folded in artful patterns to show off color or flexibility. Not one of Adam¡¯s preferred stationary shops, but they needed some purple ink for correspondence with the palace, and only a few shops bothered carrying it without charging two arms and a leg. They might have money but Adam wasn¡¯t about to turn into a snob that was too good to shop for the best price. Leander looked around wide-eyed. The lad was probably afraid of smudging the glass or knocking a display over. At least that¡¯s how Adam felt when he first started studying and needed to enter the upper-crust shops.


    ¡°Ahem. May I ask what you are doing here?¡± The man behind the counter was eyeing them warily.


    ¡°Yes, we need some royal purple ink.¡± Instead of responding the shopkeeper gave both Adam and Leander a once over. Adam suddenly very much regretted coming in casual clothes instead of the sect uniform. And Leander, well, the lad was still young and had somehow stained himself on the docks. Adam didn¡¯t care to examine the contents of the dark blotches.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid we don¡¯t have any available.¡± The man said.


    Adam looked at the man, then the shelf directly to his left where the bottles were clearly labeled.


    ¡°Is that so?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is. Maybe you¡¯d have more luck at one of the shops in Darrow¡± he said, naming one of the lower class districts just a step up the hill from the Flats.


    ¡°I¡¯m standing right here, willing to pay for your overpriced fucking ink ¨C¡±


    ¡°As I said, none of that is available to you.¡±


    The tirade building in his mind died before he let it out. These types of people never changed just because you yelled at them. They just used it as a reason to ignore the next ¡®low class¡¯ person who wandered in. ¡°Fine, let''s go Leander.¡±


    The youth trotted along behind Adam as they left the shop. Though just before they got to the door, the boy stumbled and his hip knocked into a parchment display, causing it to tumble to the floor. They could hear the shopkeeper swearing as the door closed behind them.


    ¡°Good lad.¡±

 Ch 34 - First I Would Like To Thank The Academy

    The entrance to the Royal Meristan University was built to impress. Weathered stone griffins sat above arched gates, guarding the entryway and judging any with the audacity to walk between them. As Laurel entered and stepped onto the stone path she felt the faint buzzing of an enchantment. Her spiritual senses slipped over the carvings as she leaned in to examine them more closely. The base of each was ringed by runes for protection against harm and deception, worn almost invisible by time. They had  never been maintained, and anyone could stab someone while lying to them about it without feeling a thing. But it was a good sign. The founders of this place had respected and worked with cultivators, for all that their descendants had forgotten.


    She strolled along brick paths, winding around carefully manicured lawns. The directions Adam had laid out for her were easy to follow in the open space. Passing by several stately buildings serving as classrooms or housing for the students, she came to an open-air amphitheater. It was just as old as the entryway, with another current of mana running through it. Students trickled in around her as she surveyed the scene from the top of the steps. An older man in a blue robe stood on the stage and greeted some of the students. Three others accompanied him. The first was a military officer in uniform, standing in a perfect parade rest. A crisp nod when Laurel approached was the only acknowledgement before she returned to observing the students as they filed in. The other two were dressed in the style Annette had pointed out to Laurel on a shopping trip, one more flamboyant than the other. It denoted elite status, but not nobility. When Laurel reached the stage they introduced themselves as Masters Brinn and Grimley. Brinn was in a staid gray and white suit with green cravat, representing a large mercantile company. Grimley was in a bold mix of orange and blue, and announced himself as a representative of a high-risk, high-reward investment company. Laurel made her own introductions and waited for the event to begin.


    When the nearest bell tower chimed the hour, the robed man stepped forward. ¡°Welcome students, and welcome honored guests. The department heads of the university have put together this presentation for those of you poised to finish your studies and enter into the wider world. Our guests each represent a different path you might walk¡­¡±


    Laurel ignored most of the introduction and studied the youths in front of her instead. They were a far cry from the young people she had gotten used to seeing in the Flats. Cleanly pressed uniforms with the university crest were the standard, mostly in white, which Adam had informed her indicated the final year in the program. Everyone seemed healthy for the most part and they were gazing at the stage with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Her attention was brought back to the speaker when they got to the introductions of the rest of the people on stage, but it was nothing they hadn¡¯t already told her. She gave a smile and wave as the man stumbled over her introduction as a Sectmaster and then they were on to the demonstrations.


    The military representative outlined officer training programs, and the need for creative individuals to advance defensive capabilities. The two gentlemen had similar proposals. Come work for us and make money. Grimley emphasized that his firm would invest in new products that had potential, perfect for these young innovators. In contrast Brinn outlined the centuries-long history of his company and the security they provided. Both were uniquely uninspiring to Laurel¡¯s view, though, in fairness, she had not had to worry about money since she was just starting to cultivate. Back then she had scrimped and saved, and occasionally stolen, any resources she couldn¡¯t source herself.


    Laurel stepped forward last and looked out into the crowd. ¡°I represent the Eternal Archive. We are an organization dedicated to the practice and study of cultivation, which you all would refer to as magic. We support research into combining cultivation techniques with mortal crafting, as well as more amorphous fields like healing and art. Our Loremaster presides over the most extensive library of ancient texts in the world, and we are looking to expand our translations as well as add contemporary works and knowledge. We are stewards of the magical infrastructure of the city, and partner with existing civil and military forces in defense against magical threats. We are looking for individuals willing and able to learn cultivation and uphold these ideals.¡± She stepped back. Annette had advised that ¡®less is more¡¯ in a sales pitch. She noted, with no small amount of satisfaction, that her presentation had garnered more discussion amongst the students than any of the others. Just because she had to be the dignified Sectmaster didn¡¯t mean she wasn¡¯t trying to win.


    The robed academic regained the attention of the students while sneaking glances over at Laurel. ¡°We will hold a short question and answer session now, and all of our representatives have left contact and application information for your later perusal.¡±


    The first student was called upon with a question and looked directly at Laurel. ¡°Magic is a myth told by grandparents to scare children into behaving. There is nothing to study,¡± he said.


    Laughter rang out and the student sat down looking well-pleased with himself.


    ¡°Since this is an institution of learning, what evidence would you all need to see in order to believe my words?¡± Laurel said, ostensibly to the young man that had asked, but looking around to include the whole crowd. Lots of whispering could be heard, everyone looking for someone else to speak up.


    ¡°Set something on fire,¡± was called out from somewhere in the back.


    Laurel snorted a laugh and waved her hand, igniting a fire in mid air, using mana for fuel rather than burning out the stage she stood on. The crowd murmured but the initial question-asker clearly was unconvinced.


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    ¡°That could be some chemical reaction,¡± he called out. Laurel just raised her eyebrows, inviting him to declare what he would be convinced by.


    ¡°Can you fly?¡± someone else called out from the back.


    A wide grin stretched across her face. She bent her knees and then launched herself into the air. At the height of her leap, when she would have started to fall, she instead propelled herself in a wide arc around the amphitheater. She made another loop for the pure joy of it before landing in the center of the students, next to her critic. Several of the students clapped, and Master Grimley on stage joined in, delighted.


    ¡°My ancestors would have called anyone who could not believe the evidence of their own eyes a fool.¡± She held her hand out flat with her palm up. The nearby students eagerly leaned in as she constructed a copy of the amphitheater out of golden light, including tiny ethereal students crowding around a central figure. The control needed was something she wouldn¡¯t have been able to do even a year ago, but her cultivation had grown, despite the amount of bureaucracy and mundane matters she was now embroiled in. ¡°I hope to hear from some of you soon.''''


    She went back to join the group on the stage. There were a few questions for the other presenters, but there was no good way to follow a demonstration of the kind of power Laurel represented, and the class quickly broke up.


    As the University professor approached her, Laurel braced to explain and potentially apologize for disrupting the proceedings. These people had sway in the Scholar¡¯s Guild, and the sect was still only a probationary member institution. Laurel was under strict instructions from her friends to swallow her pride and be nice to these people.


    ¡°My dear. This library of ancient texts, will this be made available to academics outside your institution? Our history and linguistics departments would surely wish to set up some sort of arrangement. Perhaps a system of temporary exchanges?¡±


    The subject threw Laurel off but she managed to reorient. ¡°That will be the purview of our Loremaster. He is quite protective of the collection, so I imagine that for the time being he will not want to loan anything out. He might be convinced to let your members study them at our sect hall under his watch, however. You may send correspondence to the same address I gave for the applications, or you can send someone down to take a tour and talk with Adam directly.¡± The man agreed eagerly and wandered off, muttering about convening a meeting of department chairs.


    She left the university the same way she entered, though she fancied the enchantments seemed a little friendlier on the way out. Her next stop was the military preparatory academy. It was in the same district, just down the road, and catered to wealthy students intending to enter the officer training track as soon as they were old enough to enlist. Since she was not due there until the afternoon, Laurel meandered up and down a few streets, appreciating the aesthetic of the district. The building facades were stately and graceful, implying both authority and elegance for the institutions within. A few high end shops were mixed in with schools and city  government offices. There were several ingenious carts being pushed around that sold sandwiches and other hand-held lunch foods, that used small steam engines to both propel the cart and keep the food warm. Laurel gladly purchased a lamb wrap from one, and ate it as she made her way to the next stop.


    Theresa met her at the entrance and they walked in with each other. There was far less ceremony than the university, as the children were shuffled into an auditorium. Laurel gave the same explanation of what cultivation was, and how the sect worked. Having learned from the skeptics at the university, she peppered in small demonstrations of magic like pulling a book from her spatial storage and then returning it, and keeping a small flame alight with no fuel. The teenagers were much easier to impress than the older students. Theresa then discussed a new program being piloted by the army, where several students would be placed on a cultivation track rather than the more traditional officer roles, upon graduation and official enlistment.


    The questions from the students were mostly about the new program, unsurprisingly, and they left after an hour.


    ¡°I hope you aren¡¯t upset with the program¡± Theresa said as they walked out. ¡°I know you are looking to recruit, but the military is taking charge of the mana infrastructure, as you call it, and we want to build up a cultivator corps as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°Not at all.¡± Laurel said. ¡°The basic cultivation methodologies have always been common knowledge. Sects have specialized knowledge and techniques that they use to attract students. Including cultivators in a country¡¯s military is a practice as old as the militaries themselves. If anything, having the army endorsing the usefulness will make the rest of my recruiting easier. Not to mention it gives my students someone to spar against. Steel sharpens steel right?¡±


    ¡°Does it?¡± But Theresa was mollified and invited Laurel to stop by for tea before heading back to the sect compound.


    That evening as they enjoyed yet another delicious meal, this time in their newly furnished dining hall, Laurel put her predicament to the group. ¡°I think the recruitment tour went well today. We¡¯ll probably see a few from the university, and maybe some from the military academy. Though honestly I think anyone from the latter who is interested will get their training from the army. The problem is I don¡¯t know how to recruit from the Flats or middle-class districts. The kids who¡¯ve been watching the cultivation lessons might be interested, but they tend to scatter if I get too close. Thoughts? Leander, Rebecca, any insights?¡±


    Rebecca was still shy talking in front of the group, but appeared flattered to be asked her opinion. ¡°I don¡¯t think you can recruit from the Flats,¡± she said. Seeing Laurel¡¯s frown she quickly corrected herself, ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t think you can recruit from the flats. You walk like a rich person.¡± Laurel tilted her head to the side in question and gestured for Rebecca to continue. The girl was at a loss however and looked to Leander for help.


    ¡°You walk not afraid anything,¡± the expressionless monotone from the boy''s crystal was slightly unnerving, but if he wanted to use it Laurel wasn¡¯t going to react. ¡°Not rich but powerful. Kids Flats no trust.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Rebecca jumped back in. ¡°No one from the flats will buy what you¡¯re selling, and they all know someone who followed someone they shouldn¡¯t and paid for it.¡± All the adults were frowning now, but they conceded the point.


    ¡°Leander and me will spread the word instead,¡± Rebecca offered. ¡°We can find some people that would be willing to join, and wouldn¡¯t steal or nothing.¡±


    Laurel leaned back and thought about it. There was discomfort in the idea of having her newest members do the work of recruiting instead of her, her gut reaction was to keep them safe in the sect hall. She forcibly shook that off, they needed opportunities to grow and there was wisdom in the proposal. She glanced at Adam who looked like he was running similar calculations.


    ¡°It''s a good idea,¡± she said. Rebecca practically glowed under the praise. ¡°Let¡¯s all sleep on it tonight and discuss it more at breakfast. I¡¯m not thrilled with having you two find the new recruits, but it''s not without precedence. And the founders were very clear, we don¡¯t want to fall into being a sect for the rich and powerful, so we need to get a mix of students.¡± The rest of dinner passed with less heavy topics until it was time to retire.

 Ch 35 - Nobles Strike Back

    A thud sounded from the main entrance. Lucy glanced over at the door. She listened until all of a sudden her stockings felt wet. She looked down and realized the planter was overflowing. The plant would not be happy. Maybe she should hide it in one of the unused classrooms? Now her stockings were wet and there was still someone knocking on the door. Her eyes watered and her lips trembled.


    ¡°Moooommmyyy!¡±


    *******


    Laurel swept down the main staircase, the rest of the sect trailing behind like so many ducklings. A distraught Lucy was not something anyone with a heart could withstand without trying to fix it. Glow stones lit up in their scones as they moved by, beating back the darkness of the autumn evening. The knocking continued uninterrupted.


    When the door finally opened it revealed a harried looking man in a subdued suit put into disarray by the wind, the royal crest embroidered on one shoulder. Behind him were two guards looking warily at the sect, hands drifting towards weapons.


    ¡°At last! I¡¯ll have you know, impeding a royal messenger is a serious crime.¡± The man attempted to pat his clothes back into some sort of order. He soon recognized the futility and gave up. Instead, he proffered a sealed envelope to Laurel, who was still standing in front of her sect. ¡°Consider this your official notification. You are being brought up on civil charges by the Merchant¡¯s Guild and a collection of noble houses, see list. You are required by law to halt any actions that pertain to the accusations, up to and including the recent recruitment activities. You will be notified when your hearing date is set.¡±


    The man turned to go. Quick as a viper, Laurel¡¯s hand shot out to grab his wrist. ¡°Hold! Explain!¡±


    Before she could get anything else out, the guards had each drawn and aimed a handgun.


    ¡°Unhand me at once. You have already been warned about interfering with inquisitors.¡±


    Laurel looked from the armed men to her sect tensed behind her. She released the man and stepped back. ¡°I apologize. I do not understand what is going on.¡±


    ¡°I am a messenger, not a barrister. I have delivered the message. If you require legal terms explained, find a scribe.¡± With that he turned on his heel and marched out the way he came in. The guards were slower to depart, keeping their guns aimed at Laurel until they were out of the doors.


    ¡°You said we were safe in here, that guns or nothing can hurt us.¡± Rebecca¡¯s tremulous voice broke the heavy silence that filled the room after their guests left.


    ¡°That¡¯s true, I still don¡¯t want to start a fight with the royal guards if we can avoid it.¡± Laurel turned and looked at her tiny sect. Every pair of eyes was trained back on her. Some were angry, some afraid, all looking for direction. ¡°Why don¡¯t we go upstairs and discuss. Adam, I¡¯ve been told to find a scribe so I¡¯ll let you take a first crack at these.¡± She handed off the envelope as everyone trundled up to the rotunda.


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    ******


    A fire crackled merrily away, unaware of the agitation of the sect members scattered around the lounge. Annette had finished passing out the tea, while Lucy was put to bed by Esther. The rest were sitting in silence. Laurel¡¯s face was a mask of calm, undermined by her pacing back and forth across the room. As Adam put the last page down and leaned back she twirled and marched to the central area he had commandeered. She sank into the couch opposite him and raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°It''s bad,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯re main problem with us is that we are ¡®restricting access to a public resource, and monetizing it for profit¡¯. There are a bunch of other things in there but those are mostly bullshit. Pretty common tactic for the barristers in the guild to throw a bunch of charges at the wall and see what sticks. Some stuff about hunting without a license and causing a public disturbance, but the main thing they focus on is the monopoly.¡±


    ¡°What, exactly, are we monopolizing?¡± Laurel looked around for clarification. ¡°Have we even sold anything yet?¡±


    Leander scuffed his feet to get attention and then tilted his head towards the crystal pedestal they were clustering around.


    ¡°The City Core? How does that even make sense, only one person can be fully bonded to it at a time, and it¡¯s not like any of them could do it. If anything we should be paid for the service.¡±


    ¡°But it''s unique, and we probably could profit off it. You mentioned there are a bunch of other features we haven¡¯t touched on yet,¡± Adam said.


    Laurel launched back out of her seat and went back to pacing. Her hair started floating on its own as lightning coursed through her body. Sectmasters were supposed to be strong, wise. But here she was, entirely at a loss. She paused to look over her sect, all of them looking to her for direction. The kids she had promised a home, the mortals simply looking for a protected place to work. Adam and Annette, her friends. It galled her but she opened her mouth and spit it out.


    ¡°I do not know how to defend against this kind of attack. If a rival Sectmaster had challenged my honor like this, I would crush him in a duel. Simple. That isn¡¯t an option here. Instead we have these poisonous words from cowards hiding behind guns and technicalities. What should we do?¡±


    Adam let out an undignified snort. ¡°Glad you¡¯ve realized the rest of us are here. I wasn¡¯t a barrister when I was in the guild, but I was certified. I can handle the legal nonsense.¡±


    Annette cleared her throat. ¡°These things are never decided on the legalities. I can manage our public reputation. The crown won¡¯t be able to punish us too harshly if the public loves us.¡±


    Laurel looked around and saw each member slowly offer something to the cause.


    Leander held his stone up last. ¡°This is home, they can¡¯t take.¡±


    She smiled at her new family. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±


    ********


    Breakfast pastries in hand, the three sect officers met in Adam¡¯s office in the back of the library. He had cleared his usual clutter off to a side table with few enough complaints, and they gathered around his desk to discuss their strategies.


    ¡°First things first. Laurel, the basics of Meristan civil justice work as follows. We go in front of the judge along with our accusers. They produce evidence, we have a chance to offer counterarguments, then the judge decides who¡¯s right.¡± Adam said through a full mouth.


    ¡°Ridiculous. Who are these people to judge me?¡±


    ¡°The king¡± Annette added from where she was skimming the list of accusers. ¡°These are high nobles, that means the king is the only one who can sit in judgment of them.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good for us, isn¡¯t it? We already got permission from the king.¡± Laurel felt her temper rising at the back and forth trivialities.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Annette said.


    Adam let out a huff, finished eating. ¡°The king has to be answerable to the senate, which is half nobles. If it turns out it''s better politically not to support us, it won¡¯t matter what we¡¯ve discussed. Plus you think he wouldn¡¯t prefer one of his noble cronies handling the Core? No, we can''t assume he¡¯s on our side.¡±


    ¡°So what, by all the stars, are we actually supposed to do?¡± Laurel sighed and looked out the window, up towards the city and palace. ¡°We haven¡¯t actually broken these stupid laws, but they can just say we did, and the king will side with them?¡±


    ¡°It''s like a game of byd. You have to prepare for each move the other side might make, and figure out your countermoves. First thing we need is our own opener.¡±

 Ch 36 - Chores

    Leander stretched as he was finally freed from his tutoring for the day. It was important, he knew that. It was what he had to do to stay here. But it was so boring, and it went on forever. He didn¡¯t see Rebecca waiting around and decided that meant he had time to drop into the kitchen for a snack. He was a growing boy after all, Esther said so, and this was a big day. His first official sect mission.


    Wiping crumbs off his fingers onto his pants, he hurried down the main staircase to meet Rebecca. She was waiting, fingering the strap of the satchel slung across her shoulder and gnawing on her bottom lip. She kept glancing out the window and fidgeting even more.


    ¡°What wrong?¡± His stone voice made her jump. He was good at being sneaky. It kept him alive as a cripple in the Flats.


    ¡°There are soldiers out there. Do we keep going with the mission? I don¡¯t want to let Annette down.¡± She moved from fiddling with the bag to wringing her hands. Leander waited. Rebecca never needed him to say much, and he agreed. They needed to make Annette proud. Plus he wanted the points Laurel said he would need to buy magic things.


    ¡°Laurel said they¡¯re just there to make sure we are sticking to the rules.They can¡¯t stop us from going or coming back.¡±


    That was alright then. If Laurel said they¡¯d be fine then they¡¯d be fine. She was magic. He tugged on Rebecca¡¯s sleeve and stomped towards the door. She scurried after. Laurel was right. The guards just watched them walk into the city but they didn¡¯t say anything. They both eased into the Flats way of walking. A little faster, eyes on your own business. There were a few places Leander used to go and they would start there. Rebecca had lived in a house, but she always wanted to avoid that neighborhood and she never mentioned her family.


    The Caves were the same as always. Tight alleyways where the sun barely peeked through between the overhangs of the buildings on the sides. Leander led the way through the maze until he found the Hub. An empty lot everyone had forgotten about, where Charlie kept his headquarters and let his friends sleep. And Leander, sometimes.


    ¡°Oi, the mute is back!¡± The lookout called out as they crossed what passed for a threshold out here.


    Charlie was sitting on his makeshift throne, a few old crates stacked up against the wall, watching as they came closer. ¡°Well? Fancy lady kick you out?¡±


    Leander drew himself up. He was not getting kicked out of the sect. As an answer he pointed to the corner of his work shirt, where the sect mark was embroidered.


    Rebecca stepped up beside him. ¡°We¡¯re just spreading the word. The nobles don¡¯t like what we¡¯ve been doing and are suing the sect. That means the healing has to stop for a while.¡±


    Charlie spit off to the side. ¡°Whatever. Surprised it took them this long to smack you folks back down where you belong.¡±


    ¡°Just tell everyone,¡± Rebecca said. ¡°And if people really need help you know where to find us.¡±


    ¡°Sure sure. Don¡¯t worry about us. We were making do before your new school or whatever and we¡¯ll be fine after.¡± Charlie waved them off. They trudged back out of the Caves, and set a course for Mama Sarah. Rebecca crossed Caves off the list and shoved it back in the satchel. They had a lot more stops for Annette¡¯s mission.


    *******


    A completed motion went onto the pile. Later he would need to compile the exact dates on every approval and license they¡¯d received, and cross-reference with everything Laurel had done, thought about, or looked at since she entered the city. Adam sat up from the hunched pose he¡¯d been in all morning and almost cried at the ache in his back. Not something he¡¯d felt much in the last few weeks as he got a bit better at moving his mana around. Or maybe Laurel¡¯s cursed exercise routine was helping. Either way, he was hobbling as he gathered up the papers he would need and made his way out of the library. He detoured to the kitchens on his way out of the sect. After all, he was a growing boy and he was working hard.


    A maddeningly long carriage ride later and he reached the palace public administration entrance. He was allowed inside after a thorough pat down and sent to the appropriate line. There were at least two clerks without anyone in front of them that could have helped, but Adam knew how the game was played. Show any anger or weakness and your forms ¡°accidentally¡± fall to the bottom of the pile. He stood placidly instead, amusing himself by picturing Laurel barging in and demanding to meet the king.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°Next!¡±


    He approached cautiously. Every government worker he¡¯d ever met was hanging on by a thread, and he did not want to make them mad.


    ¡°Hello. I¡¯d like to file this countersuit, and these motions, regarding case number 11134C.¡± The clerk closely inspected each one while Adam waited. He was quietly confident. After the embarrassing slip-up on his first return to scribing with Laurel he had regained the meticulousness that made him successful in the first place. Each form was absolutely correct, the parchments were the perfect thickness, quality enough that the specialty ink saturated but didn¡¯t bleed out of the crisply formed letters. There were quite a few of them, so he had time to look around the room. Nothing struck him as out of the ordinary but he¡¯d lived in the slums long enough to always keep his eyes open.


    ¡°Everything seems to be in order,¡± the clerk said. He sounded shocked, which Adam decided to take as a compliment. ¡°Will there be anything else?¡±


    ¡°Not today. Thank you, the Eternal Archive appreciates the good work you are doing here.¡±


    ********


    Annette popped the last bite of the pastry into her mouth as she approached the mercantile company. Esther spoiled them. But she was a growing woman and needed sustenance for this kind of delicate operation. The cream-colored facade of Merrit¡¯s was perfectly designed to be welcoming. Doors open to take advantage of the late winter warm-snap they¡¯d been experiencing for the last week. She reached the door just as a handsome young man with delicate features was buttoning his jacket to leave.


    ¡°Annette, perfect timing, as always. Are you ready to go?¡±


    ¡°Lead the way.¡± She and Daniel made small talk on their way to the tea house and while they were seated.


    ¡°So, should we get right into it?¡± Daniel said.


    ¡°What, I can¡¯t visit an old friend for tea without an ulterior motive?¡±


    ¡°I mean you can. You didn¡¯t though, so what¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m part of that new group with the manor down in the Flats. The nobles are getting up in arms about it and I want to hear what you know.¡±


    Daniel let out an exaggerated gasp. ¡°You want me to gossip about our patrons? How could you? You know I¡¯ll get in trouble for that. You want to see me destitute, I suppose, get rid of the competition.¡± The words were harsh but the grin as he sipped the tea told Annette her old friend was enjoying this immensely.


    ¡°I do know, which is why I have with me entrance tickets to next week¡¯s symphonic opera for you and Elliot.¡±


    He rubbed his hand over his face. ¡°Ah Annette, always one step ahead. Your talents have been wasted up to now. I don¡¯t know much. A few of their secretaries have been in across the last few weeks. Mostly picking up the usual stuff, dropping the usual gossip. A few orders for the kind of parchment needed at a high trial. I didn¡¯t think to pay close attention though.¡±


    ¡°Come off it Daniel, you know more than that.¡±


    ¡°Hah! Fine, maybe the same folks were talking about schmoozing some soldier. But that¡¯s all I know, Annette, truly.¡±


    She nodded thoughtfully. ¡°That¡¯s plenty.¡±


    The rest of their break passed in pleasant chit-chat. Mostly about inane topics, and a few of the scandals the gossip rags had reported on. Daniel had always been a good conversationalist and the hour melted away along with their tea and snacks. Before they left Annette produced an envelope. ¡°Enjoy the show darling, and give Elliot my love¡±.


    Daniel turned back to the luxury merchant house, while Annette hailed one of the new steam carriages to take her back down the hill. All the soldiers Laurel had been teaching were respectful and open to new ideas. None of them acted like they¡¯d been spying for a noble house. Then again, a few free drinks at the Rifle and Crown and they hardly needed official spies. It''s not like they had sworn anyone to secrecy.


    ********


    ¡°Hi Esther, are there any of those cookies left?¡± Laurel popped her head into the kitchen as she leaned around the doorframe.


    The cook paused in her kneading, looking up at the intrusion. ¡°I¡¯m sorry dear, I think the kids took the last ones as they left on Annette¡¯s errand. I could whip you up something else if you¡¯d like?¡±


    ¡°No no, I don¡¯t really need anything. I¡¯ll just have to get here sooner next time.¡±


    The jog to Fort Sarken had been pleasant. Slightly more so after she caught the guards near the sect house flinching as she went by. They hadn¡¯t tried to stop anyone yet so she¡¯d let them be. Though it was good to keep them on their toes. The soldiers she was there to meet were already assembled. Made up of her cultivation students, the squad from her trip to the forest monarch, and a few new faces. All dressed in the same brown uniform, though Captain Varska had added a shockingly-bright pink belt with some small explosives attached.


    ¡°General Ridge, I see you¡¯ve assembled quite the company. Care to share what we¡¯re up to?¡±


    He looked up from where he¡¯d been pointing at a map with Major Kat. ¡°Well now that our master cultivator has deigned to arrive, we can go forward with the briefing.¡± The general aimed for a joking tone but it fell flat to Laurel¡¯s ears.The soldiers shuffled around to get a better view of the map.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been getting reports from the closest towns of strange new animals showing up. Glowing frogs, mice the size of cats, fish that don¡¯t seem to have trouble out of water. All sorts of things. Our job is to do a sweep of the area and get rid of the dangerous or troublesome ones we can find. Thin the herd.¡± If any of the soldiers were surprised at the existence of fantastical animals straight out of children¡¯s tales, they didn¡¯t betray it on their faces.


    ¡°An important job general. And of course you have me here to help you find the spirit beasts and point out which ones are dangerous. Hmmm. Tell me, would you say that qualifies as normal sect activities? I wouldn¡¯t want to overstep an injunction in a royal trial.¡±


    Ridge looked to the side and cleared his throat. The eyes of the listening soldiers bounced between the two of them. ¡°Well, the military is legally able to accept volunteer aid from locals, so¡­¡± he let the rest trail off.


    ¡°Volunteering, so I suppose you intend to keep any beast cores we find as well.¡± He grimaced and went to speak but Laurel cut him off. ¡°I consider you and Theresa friends, Ridge, so I¡¯m going to help. But if my sect continues to be treated badly I won¡¯t just sit back and allow it.¡±


    She turned to the soldiers, all of whom took a quick step back. ¡°Now, who¡¯s ready for some hunting!¡±

 Ch 37 - Order in the Court

    ¡°His Majesty, King Edward Verilion of Merista. Protector of the Sky Throne, High Commander of the People¡¯s Army, Chancellor of the Meristan Senate.¡± The king seated himself on his throne and waved a hand, allowing everyone else in the room to stand from their kneeling positions. Apparently only the King was permitted to sit during these trials. Laurel had nearly balked when Adam told her she would have to kneel to a mortal king as part of the theater for the occasion. But if she didn¡¯t it was just more ammunition for her enemies.


    The seneschal cleared his throat discreetly before continuing. ¡°We are here to rule on preliminary motions in the case of the High Noble houses of Ravenal and Tanguy and the Merchants Guild, accusing the Eternal Archive of monopolization of a public resource for private gain.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Peters. We will start with preliminary motions. Who has a motion for the court.¡±


    Laurel recognized the cue after her hours of coaching. ¡°I move to end the injunction on sect activities, on the grounds of public safety, and the unlawful restriction of a private entity.¡±


    The smarmy man across the aisle from Laurel also stepped forward. He was dressed impeccably but still had an oily aura. The seneschal had introduced him as Barrister Jay Lasia, Master Scribe. ¡°We oppose the grounds of public safety. The public was perfectly safe before the accused¡¯s organization showed up. There is no evidence of a public safety concern.¡±


    ¡°We have already provided his majesty with such evidence and can continue to do so, including calling Madam Theresa Skycrest as an expert witness in matters of magic, and General Skycrest in matters of public safety. Interacting with the City Core is vital to the security of Verilia. Furthermore, the accusations leveled against us have no bearing on the rest of sect activities, up to and including recruitment, is outside the scope of this trial.¡±


    Lasia attempted to speak but his teeth snapped together as the king raised his hand. ¡°We are aware of this evidence and agree. Restricting City Core cultivation would have a negative impact on public safety. The injunction is removed. Are there further motions?¡±


    Another hour of back and forth between the two sides played out. Laurel compared the day to the opening of a duel. Each side was testing the waters, comparing their preparations and getting a feel for the opponent¡¯s style. She had drawn first blood with the injunction motion, but the day¡¯s tally ended slightly in favor of the nobles.


    After the king departed the remaining courtiers broke into side conversations. Laurel and Adam ignored their glances as they made their way out of the judgment hall. One young man decided to intercept them, the rest of his group trailing behind to watch. He was wearing green and purple, which Laurel hoped was referencing his family and not a fashion choice. He stepped in front of them, blocking the exit and staring at her expectantly.


    Laurel stared back. Adam started shifting from side to side and the nobles behind their new obstacle looked perplexed. The young man broke first.


    ¡°I hope this serves as a reminder not to contradict your betters in public.¡± He looked down his nose at Laurel and didn¡¯t bother masking his smile as he rebuked her.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± They did not have time to deal with children needing a lesson.


    ¡°How dare you ¨C¡± the young man sputtered.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Laurel realized where she recognized the boy from. ¡°You were at the university event. The one who didn¡¯t believe in magic. She looked around the room, everyone was now watching the confrontation openly or trying to hide it. ¡°I guess that didn¡¯t work out for you.¡± She and Adam dodged to either side of the young man. They made their way out of the palace avoiding any further confrontation and were quiet on the way home.


    That evening they all gathered once more in their lounge after dinner. Everyone eagerly gathered around to hear the results of the first day.


    ¡°Injunction gone.¡± Adam announced to some cheering from the kids. ¡°It went about as well as we could have expected. Lost most of the rest but they were all procedural things we shouldn¡¯t be too worried about.¡±


    ¡°How about your part Annette?¡±


    ¡°Things are going less well there. The Flats already hate the nobles and you¡¯ve been healing them so they love us. With the injunction gone it will be even better. That said, the rest of the city either doesn¡¯t care or is siding with the merchants.


    ¡°I had a nice profile run in one of the smaller middle-class papers. But the nobles have deep pockets and don¡¯t like losing. Three separate articles on the trial and how we are hoarding something secret down here.


    ¡°What about the guilds?¡± Laurel asked. ¡°We spent all that time joining and earning good will. How can the merchants even sue one of their members?¡±


    It was Adam who had the answer. ¡°It''s more common than you¡¯d think. It¡¯s actually one of the best ways a guild will chastise a member, at least when they want to be seen doing so publicly. It wouldn¡¯t be as much of a problem if the nobles weren¡¯t also involved and brought the king into it. As for the others¡­.¡±


    Annette picked up from where he trailed off. ¡°The others don¡¯t want to get on the merchants¡¯ bad side. They are far and away the most powerful organization in the country that isn¡¯t a noble house or a branch of government. The Fishers might not have a problem with us, but they aren¡¯t going to publicly denounce the Merchant Guild without something in it for them.¡±


    It was an understandable system to Laurel. After all, when sects and cultivators dominated the world¡¯s power structures, some were subordinate to others. For protection, or resources, even just notoriety, smaller or weaker sects would give tribute. This was, however, the first time she was not sitting at the top of that hierarchy. She did not like that at all.


    ¡°Next they do testimony right? Do we know when that¡¯s happening?¡± She looked at Adam for confirmation.


    ¡°No word yet, I¡¯d guess another month.¡±


    ¡°Then I guess back to business as usual. And maybe we see if we can find something to make the Fishers or the others take our side.¡±


    ********


    Laurel rose from the kneeling position and surveyed the battlefield. The judgment hall was the same as last time. Dripping in gilding and white marble, with an oak throne sitting at the front, now occupied by the king. The attendees were markedly different, however. Instead of a collection of mostly young or bored-looking courtiers, there were far more older nobles. Her enemies decked themselves in jewels and silks, to a one looking at her like their victory was inevitable.


    The seneschal, Peters, announced the beginning of the proceedings. ¡°Today we hear arguments from the accusers in the case 11134C.¡±


    The same barrister as before stepped forward. ¡°We recognize his grace, the Duke of Ravenal, to give our first arguments.¡±


    ¡°The accused, Laurel Stormblade, arrived in Verilia almost one year ago aboard a licensed merchant vessel called the Lion¡¯s Tooth. Since then she has taken control of a valuable resource known as a City Core, for her own personal ends. She has maintained that control, and indeed spread the fiction that it is dangerous for anyone else to try and use this resource. Her material gains include reduced construction costs and time on a large estate in the lower city, the creation of several magical constructs, and an increase in her own personal power.¡±


    The man went on to detail a mostly false story about how she was deceiving the military and the king for her own benefit. Just enough true facts were sprinkled in to anchor the testimony in reality. For all she was raging at the lies, she could only be impressed at how well crafted the narrative was. Dismantling it would take time and subtlety, before they even got around to the basic argument being flawed.


    ¡°...Charlatan-style healing in which she used fake medicines to simulate short-term effects¡­¡±


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    Adam¡¯s hand clamped down on her wrist when she would have interrupted. She caught him subtly shaking his head out of the corner of her eye. The reminder was needed but still infuriating. Apparently interrupting a blatant lie was taboo and would undermine their own arguments later.


    As the testimony went on, the observers in the balcony got more riled up. Laurel half-expected an angry mob to meet them outside once evening rolled around.


    ¡°....smuggled dangerous goods into the country without declaring them at customs¡­¡±


    Just because the customs officer didn¡¯t believe her, didn¡¯t mean she hadn¡¯t declared when asked.


    ¡°If she were truly looking out for the public good, she would have constructed more than a personal palace¡­¡±


    Deep breaths and knowledge of what would happen to her sect if she lashed out or kill anyone were all that kept her from exploding. These people had ferreted out just enough details to tell a story, but not enough to show any kind of understanding. But it painted a bad picture. Then, of course, the additional testimony started.


    *******


    Adam watched, struggling to keep his expression neutral, as the little twat from yesterday stepped forward. Though at least they finally found out he was some scion of a vassal to House Tanguy.


    ¡°The accused flaunted the power gained from hoarding this precious asset. Flying around and terrorizing students by setting fires. Of course, when challenged she berated anyone standing up to her as a fool. Fearing for my own safety I declined to push the matter¡±.


    Then another man was brought forward. With a start, he recognized the same shopkeeper he and Leander had gotten into a scuffle with a few weeks ago.


    ¡°The thugs of this so-called sect have been going around menacing normal citizens. Why, the scribe representing the accused caused property damage in my own shop, after being lawfully denied service.¡±


    It was then Master Brinn¡¯s turn as a representative of the Merchant Guild. He went on about the lack of competition and how this would hurt the economy overall. The bastard was a cold fish, his testimony lacking the passion of the others. A small thing for which Adam was grateful. He also noted with no small amount of pride that they couldn¡¯t find anything wrong with their guild application and membership to bring up charges on. In all the trials like this that Adam had assisted in before, that was the first thing a guild would try to attack.


    It was looking worse and worse for the sect. The reporters in the galleries were surely taking note of every heinous accusation, and they¡¯d be in print by tomorrow morning, he was sure. He thought over all the arguments he¡¯d crafted and the evidence he¡¯d prepared. They had a strong case. Every one of the accusations leveled against them could be refuted. But it might not be enough. It wasn¡¯t just a matter of proving their innocence. They had to do so in a way that was so beyond reproach, so obvious, that the king would need to make some of his most powerful guilds and nobles unhappy with the ruling. Their own testimonial date was set for one week later.


    He trudged out of court trying anything to not feel defeated. Laurel was quiet as she walked beside him, glancing over at Brinn. Of all the people who¡¯d testified that she was a monster, he was an odd choice to pick as the one to focus on. The sun had already set, the early spring hours not yet enough to stretch sunlight into the evening. A few blocks away from the palace they were able to hitch a ride home.


    Debriefing in the lounge had already become a sect habit. Esther, the absolute paragon of virtue that she was, had even kept some food aside for them, having rightly guessed they would miss dinner. A low table was dragged over to the central couches as they all got comfortable and braced for the news.


    ¡°It''s bad. Worse than before.¡± Adam heaved a sigh and put his thoughts in order. He¡¯d clawed his way out of the slums into university after his parents'' deaths. Then the Scribes Guild, even without family connections. Then that had been wrenched away as well. He couldn¡¯t go through losing his place again.


    ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s papers will be all about how Laurel is an evil Laskarian immigrant. She snuck into the country, stole the City Core from the good people of Verilia, and used it to make herself stronger. Even when we prove them wrong, we¡¯ll look like we are just reworking the facts to cover ourselves. I¡¯m, I¡¯m not really sure what¡¯s going to happen.¡±


    ¡°How do guild¡¯s work? Like is there one person in charge or something else?¡± Laurel yanked the conversation in the opposite direction.


    Annette looked as confused as he was but answered readily enough. ¡°Most have someone nominally in charge and a number of members with enough influence to sway them one way or another. The guild head will rotate, usually through those members.¡±


    ¡°We are going to need to call in some favors.¡± Laurel went on to describe her plan and Adam¡¯s mood lifted. This could actually work.


    ********


    The sect showed up in force when it was their turn to defend themselves. They¡¯d picked up a new recruit during the trial, even with the attacks on their reputation. Cooper had joined them after seeing Laurel¡¯s presentation at the university. Bookish to the extreme, the idea of mixing his favorite magical novels with the chance to see the library had been enough to lure him in over the protestations of his parents and the papers. He would join the others in the gallery as Laurel and Adam made their case.


    Laurel projected her best sect master aura as she looked at everyone where they stood outside of the palace. Hopeful gazes stared back and she was struck all at once of the enormity of what they¡¯d created. The building and the clothes were fine, but they could recreate that anywhere with enough time. Deeper than that, they¡¯d forged a family of sorts. New, and still growing, but she was no longer alone.


    ¡°No matter what happens today, I am so incredibly proud of each of you. I was alone and adrift. I knew my duty was to recreate the sect but I didn¡¯t have any idea how to do that. You all have reminded me how important companions are on the path of cultivation, and I am honored to have you in my sect. Even if we start over somewhere else, and build a City Core from scratch, you all will always have a place with me.¡±


    She choked back the tears that were threatening to spill, and gave everyone a quick hug before it was time once more to march to battle.


    ¡°We are hearing the response to accusations by the Eternal Archive representatives.¡±


    Laurel spotted Grimley in the corner where he gave a slight nod, and pointed him out to Adam. The man was still dressed outlandishly, this time in a bright yellow and black ensemble. Some digging in the last week had shown them all that despite the man¡¯s questionable taste, he was one of the wealthiest merchants in the city. And as such he had a strong backing at the guild.


    ¡°If it pleases His Majesty,¡± Adam began as Grimley came to join them, ¡°The accusations against the Eternal Archive have been reduced.¡±


    The king looked down from the throne dais. ¡°You have something to say for the Merchant¡¯s Guild, Master Grimley?¡±


    ¡°Your Majesty, I have a formal retraction of accusations from the Merchant Guild. After further examining evidence, we have come to believe that the Eternal Archive has not been unduly profiting from access to the City Core. We once more recognize the sect as a member in good standing, and look forward to further collaboration.¡±


    A murmur swept through the balcony. Grimley¡¯s declaration took a most of the legitimacy out of the accusations. Now they had a group of nobles attacking commoners, which was a much harder story to sell. Telling the world the Guild intended to work with the sect meant not only was the support retracted from the nobles, but it was implicitly now transferred to the other side.


    The court scribe read over the document and confirmed the truth of the matter to the king. ¡°Very well,¡± he announced. ¡°Let the record reflect the change in accusations. The defense may continue.¡±


    Laurel watched Adam swell with confidence, they could do this. ¡°We will next address the accusations of using public resources to gain personal magical power.¡± A swell of movement and noise started at the back of the courtroom and crested towards where they stood. A gray-haired man with scars and the appearance of someone used to hard living joined them at the front. He gave Laurel a wink before stepping forward. ¡°We call Beram Harris to describe his most recent journey from the Laskarian Empire to Merista.¡±


    Beram gave an awkward bow towards the king and cleared his throat. ¡°Right, well I¡¯d been living in Laskar for a few years to earn money for the family. Decided it was high time to head home so I got a berth on the Lion¡¯s Tooth.


    ¡°Normal enough passage. Good weather. About half-way we were run down by pirates. Would have been a bloody fight but Laurel started a tornado on the deck of the other ship. Let the Lion do enough damage to get away.¡± He went on to describe the rest of their journey and the casual magic Laurel employed.


    Afterwards, he stepped back behind Laurel and gave her shoulder a light pat. She¡¯d not thought much of what Beram had been up to since leaving the city, but thankfully remembered where he was heading. Calling in a favor with the army and Captain Sidetrip had taken a few day¡¯s flight. That the man had agreed to the time and effort to help her out after only a few weeks together was deeply touching.


    Theresa next testified to both the public service Laurel had been doing with the City Core, and the lack of qualified candidates to otherwise help. Ridge and the soldiers Laurel had been teaching also showed up to describe how she had voluntarily assisted the military. Reynard in particular had jumped at the chance to redeem himself. It wasn¡¯t entirely his fault that they were on trial, but the information he had spilled in the tavern had done them no favors. After finding out the man had sworn to do whatever it took to prove their innocence.


    Adam continued calling witnesses and presenting evidence for the rest of the day. Laurel herself was reduced to mostly an aesthetic set piece. If it worked, she didn¡¯t really mind. They produced memberships in good standing for the Hunters, Fishers, Rangers, Mercenaries, and a handful of more specialized groups. The Scholars in particular were extremely supportive after they found out the library would be closed if Laurel was not able to maintain the sect in the city. Adam still grumbled that they were untrustworthy but let it happen for the good of the sect.


    ¡°All arguments have been heard. We will announce a ruling in one week¡¯s time.¡± The king officially ended proceedings and the sect and all their friends made their way back to the manor for a subdued celebration. All they could do now was hope and wait.


    *******


    There was silence in the courtroom. Leander had elbowed his way to the front of the gallery in between two people holding pens and notebooks. Somehow it was even more crowded than the last time he was here. According to Annette, the upper city folk were split between whether or not they thought Laurel was bad. He wasn¡¯t sure why it mattered, since Laurel could probably fight anyone who came to the house to try and mess with them. But the adults had all been worried. He had even overheard them discussing what they would do if they had to move somewhere else. Which sounded fine to Leander, the Flats kind of sucked a lot of the time.


    But the adults didn¡¯t want to leave. Laurel thought this city was the best chance they had to make a World Capital, which was something important, though he couldn¡¯t remember why. So they were doing their best. Everyone helped out with the trial. It had been his idea to find some kids from the Flats to talk about being healed. Even Lucy had done her part by fetching things for Adam. Leander had also taught her how to look cute and sad when one of the reporters came by. A skill he¡¯d mastered to get food from bakeries at the end of the day. Everyone got quiet when the king came in.


    ¡°We have heard all arguments and we render these verdicts.


    ¡°On the charges of smuggling, intimidation, hunting without a license, and betraying the public for personal power we find insufficient evidence.


    Leander jumped around at the news, before Annette grabbed the back of his collar and dragged him back to the group.


    ¡°On the charge of theft we find no evidence. On these charges we also remind all supplicants that this court does not appreciate wastes of time.


    ¡°On the charge of hoarding a public resource we find no evidence. However, the City Core is a new kind of resource. The amount of potential for public benefit has led us to the conclusion that this resource falls under the royal domain. The Eternal Archive will continue to safeguard the City Core and develop its powers. However, this will be done under the oversight of the royal council. Additionally, the council will accept applications from any entity that can show the benefit of future projects using the Core. Prices and schedules will be set by the council for any private use of the Core for building improvements or other ventures.


    ¡°These are our verdicts. Let the issues be closed.¡±


    Cameras flashed as the king rose and exited the room. The reporters took this signal and practically flew down the stairs to talk to Laurel. In the meantime, the sect members in the gallery looked to Annette.


    Her smile seemed to confirm but he wanted the words. ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± She said. ¡°We¡¯ll have to make some concessions for the nobles and others going forward, but we¡¯re safe.¡±

 Ch 38 - Skipping Steps

    Adam sipped his tea in one of the sun-drenched sitting areas of the library. It was bitterly cold outside, a late season storm deciding to defy the spring, but the mana-reinforced glass meant his library was still perfectly pleasant. After spending the bulk of the last few months in his office researching and preparing for the trial, he expected to want a break from the place. Instead he still gravitated here when he was feeling out of sorts or when he wanted to cultivate.


    His attendance at the regular lessons had been intermittent while he was working on the legalities, but he still found time to practice. Laurel insisted on it. Despite how busy they all were they did at least a couple of hours of cultivation practice every day. Most of the time her easy-going attitude meant she seemed younger than him. Every once in a while, however, she turned on some sort of mystique and he remembered she was an ancient, powerful sorceress who was well over twice his age. So when she had looked at him in one of those moments and pressed the importance of practice, he listened.


    This couch had consequently become his favored cultivation spot. It was comfy and cozy, covered in deep red wool, with a magic tea service unobtrusively off to the side. It was also his favorite nap spot. This morning he just took a moment to revel in being out from under the headsman''s ax. Laurel was peeved at the concessions they had made to the merchants and the kingdom, but even she admitted it was a good deal for a sect as small as theirs. It also put less burden on Laurel¡¯s personal combat ability. Adam knew she eventually wanted to go out and collect some magic resources, and this way she could take a few weeks out of the city without worrying what would be there when she returned.


    Breathe in, hold, breathe out. He relaxed his mind and slipped into a cultivation trance. It was so much easier now than when he started. He could barely remember struggling to connect all those months ago. He acknowledged the thoughts and let them drift, focusing closer on the mana swirling through his body. At first, he just observed it. A large uncontrolled mass with tendrils moving in every direction, sometimes splashing into other strands as it floated through his body. There were smaller drops throughout his limbs, though most focused in his hands and eyes. He slowly moved some of the mana in his center towards the mana in his left hand. When it reached and joined together, he pulled it back and then over to the right hand. Then he repeated the process and sent it up to his eyes. He pulled it back and started the loop over, forming a circuit in his spirit. He focused on maintaining the flow at a slow but steady pace, sending just a little bit more each time.


    Cultivation practice was hard to start but easy to keep going once you picked up the knack. As he continued to prod his mana along, he started thinking about the next history tome he would be translating. It promised an account of the founding of the country that would evolve into Elgin and it promised to be captivating. Then his thoughts drifted to the letter from the Scholar¡¯s Guild sitting on his desk. The stuffy relics manning the guild had actually come through for them in the trial, and now he would have to make time for them to examine some of the books. Another fair trade, though he was the only one concerned. Laurel seemed to find it absurd anyone would kill for the mortal books but she had never seen the cutthroat nature of an academic department.


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    Something twanged in his center. That was probably bad. Adam refocused on his cultivation but it seemed normal. Probably enough for today. He tried to slow his mana and before he could do more than have the thought, his whole body spasmed. He screamed and promptly passed out.


    ******


    Laurel looked down at where Adam had collapsed on the couch. The rest of the sect crowded behind her.


    Lucy tugged on her sleeve and whispered, ¡°is Mr. Adam going to be okay?¡±


    It broke Laurel out of her musings. ¡°Better than okay. He just aspected his mana.¡± She leaned in closer and peered into his core. ¡°Ink, if I¡¯m reading it right. Fascinating. I wouldn¡¯t expect it so soon, but this room is the most mana infused in the sect.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s also been living and breathing books his entire adult life.¡± Annette added helpfully.


    ¡°Good point. That definitely helps.¡± Laurel looked at the rest of her initiates, putting on her best sectmaster tone. ¡°Don¡¯t go around trying to aspect your mana before you carve your channels. It makes the whole process much more finicky and painful.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, did you say painful?¡± Cooper asked.


    Laurel had turned back to Adam so she didn¡¯t see the concerned looks on the children¡¯s faces. ¡°Assume almost every process of increasing cultivation is painful. If it was easy, everyone would do it. Meridians are the worst though. Adam would still be conscious if he had gone in the proper order.¡±


    ¡°Lucy, can you pop down to your mom in the kitchen and ask her to steep some of the spiritual mint sprigs into a tea and bring it up?¡± The girl sprinted off to do as asked. Shouting for her mother before even leaving the library.


    ¡°Welcome back¡± Rebecca said, noticing Adam had started to move around.


    Their Loremaster just whimpered in response to the noise. ¡°Don¡¯t bother yet, Rebecca, he¡¯ll be useless for a few minutes until his spirit regulates. Again, this is why we don¡¯t aspect before we have subconscious mana flows established, people. Take a good look. Learn this lesson.¡±


    Laurel watched as Adam tried to open his eyes, and just moaned instead. Lucy came back in, walking as quickly as her short legs could carry her without spilling the teapot she held wrapped in a towel.


    ¡°Help is here. Drink this and stop moaning.¡± Laurel poured Adam a cup and handed it to him after cooling it down a bit. He quaffed the entire thing and wordlessly held it out for more. When most of the pot was gone he was able to open his eyes without crying.


    ¡°You aspected your mana. Ink, as you¡¯d expect from a librarian.¡±


    His voice was scratchy from screaming as he replied. ¡°I thought you needed a natural treasure and a bunch of fancy magic to do that.¡±


    Laurel gestured around the room. ¡°I mean, we¡¯ve got quite a bit of fancy magic. And the natural treasures aren¡¯t necessary, just helpful. You should be proud though. I mean, as studpid as it was, ink is a fairly complex aspect. For something like that I¡¯d expect most cultivators to start with water and slowly convert to something more complicated.¡±


    ¡°Not very fearsome though. I doubt anyone will be intimidated by what is basically a book cultivator,¡± Adam said.


    ¡°You only think that because you never saw Grandmaster Torrence after you accidentally damaged a book.¡±


    Conversation devolved from there into stories of the most fearsome teachers any of them had ever had. The sect decided a special dessert was in store as a celebration of a new cultivation step and Esther outdid herself with a pastry and creme confection decorated to look like an open book leaking mana.


    ¡°Perfectly fitting for a Loremaster¡± Laurel proclaimed as they all dug in.

 Ch 39 - Deus Ex Machina

    Laurel was in the midst of morning cultivation training when she felt something tug at her senses. Something big. And way too close. The sect had added a dozen new members over the last few weeks, a mix of university students without other prospects and friends Leander and Rebecca had convinced to join. As Laurel was still stubbornly insisting on outdoor cultivation practice, no matter the weather, she launched herself into the sky. Her spiritual perception was always partially spread out over the whole of the City Core¡¯s territory, thanks to her connection with it, even as muddied as everything was by all the lead. Now she narrowed that focus in the direction she had felt the disturbance from and pushed as far beyond the boundaries as she could.


    ¡°Get inside and stay there!¡± she shouted down to her students, before using the wind to fly towards the harbor. She pulled two crystals out of her tattoo midair and activated the first. ¡°Beast attack imminent, harbor,¡± she said. She quickly activated the second crystal and repeated the message, but tacked on a ¡°keep everyone in the sect house.¡± The first crystal was linked to a collection of others held by the king and his council, the second was her direct line to Adam and Annette.


    Controlled chaos reigned inside the fort as Laurel dropped directly into the main yard. General Mansfeln approached, not bothering with smalltalk or niceties. ¡°Ridge is already on the way to the airfield to get the fliers mobilized. Any word on what we¡¯re facing?¡±


    ¡°It''s coming in from the open ocean, and it''s big. I won¡¯t know anything for certain until we spot it, but my best guess is some species of leviathan.¡± He turned to bark some orders about artillery updating angles to provide cover for the city.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to get over there and keep it from making landfall, but if you have any way to communicate with your battleships, tell them to keep some distance. That thing is bigger than them and if they capsize, I¡¯ll need to prioritize protecting the city.¡± The man¡¯s face turned to stone but he agreed and strode off.


    Another leap, and she returned to the air, speeding out over the harbor. She was just in time to see a fin breaking the surface of the waves more than half a dozen kilometers offshore. It was a clear day, but anything big enough to be spotted that far out was bad news for the city. A pit formed in her stomach as she flew closer. The beast¡¯s cultivation was at the master level, and they weren¡¯t prepared.


    Battling too close to the harbor would be just as deadly as allowing it to make landfall, so she flexed her will and channeled the air currents to bring her towards the beast. As she soared closer to the dense mass of mana, she couldn¡¯t help but let a vicious smile spread across her face. She hadn¡¯t had a real fight since waking up in that cave.


    The whir of engines announced the army¡¯s pilot corps was joining her in the battle. If the creature was armored their guns might not do much, but if nothing else, they could be a distraction as Laurel prepared larger techniques.


    When she was a few hundred meters in front of the beast she gathered ambient mana, condensed it into a spike and flung it directly at the creature¡¯s head. She then dodged to the side just in time to avoid the beast¡¯s maw as it breached the surface. The head alone was the size of a respectable fishing vessel, and Laurel could have stood comfortably in its eye socket. A thick neck covered in dark scales snaked down to a body that could have rivaled the sect house for bulk, connected to short but powerful arms and legs, webbed and topped with vicious claws. The monster reared back and let loose a roar that was as much spiritual pressure as physical noise.


    She formed another spike of mana to get the creature to focus on her and hopefully lure it further from shore. As she dodged deceptively-quick jaws, she saw the pale coral armoring the back and chest. ¡°Coral Leviathan¡± she said into the crystal she had looped onto a necklace. ¡°Extreme defense. Tough. Mean.¡± There was no more time to send information as the fight began in earnest.


    Laurel sent concentrated blasts of air and lightning at the creature, carving off chunks of coral that splashed into the ocean. The waves from the thrashing beast would have been enough to swamp every ship in port without the breakwaters. They had to keep the beast out here in its element. A squad of pilots made a strafing run. Their machine-gun fire had no effect, but one enterprising pilot had thought to toss a grenade as well. It did little enough damage, but was irritating enough to get the leviathan¡¯s attention. With no warning, a jet of superheated water was launched from its mouth towards the pilot. The man leapt from the plane before it was melted into slag and dropped into the ocean.


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    Laurel caught him with an air current before he hit the death sentence that the sea had become. She tossed him into the second seat of another passing plane, grimacing at the burns on the man¡¯s leg, deep enough to expose bone.


    The beast was cunning. It realized the tactic had been effective and started launching more of the water jets. Laurel was able to deflect them with blasts of wind or overwhelming amounts of mana. She also had the maneuverability to dodge. The rest of the fliers were not so capable. Two more planes were hit before she could deflect the water. One of the pilots was able to escape. She bailed out of the side a moment before her plane was destroyed and another plane caught her before she hit the water. The second pilot didn¡¯t make it out.


    ¡°Sorry Laurel, we¡¯re pulling back.¡± Ridge¡¯s voice said as the planes gained altitude. The beast continued to shoot water jets at the annoyances, but the distance kept them out of too much danger. The distance also meant they were now useless in the fight. The guns did even less damage than before. A few more grenades were thrown at the beast. Only one hit the monster on the back. The coral shielding absorbed the resulting explosion.


    One of the planes dove back into range of the leviathan. Laurel had enough time to realize Trip was the pilot before he tossed something and flew back up. He pulled his plane into a tight spiral avoiding another of the monster¡¯s attacks. Then his explosion hit at the seam of the foreleg and torso. Instead of the same ineffectual blast, this ripped into the beast¡¯s flesh. The explosion was powered and enforced by mana. Blood gushed from he wound into the water. Taking the opportunity, Laurel sent a blast of lightning towards the same spot. The scent of charred meat mixed with blood and sea air.


    Heartened at Trip¡¯s success, a few more pilots dipped lower to try and land an explosion. The spirit beast thrashed, clawing at the small planes. Laurel was once more forced to frantically defend. When she could spare a moment from keeping the mortals safe she threw another spike of mana to keep the beast off-kilter. But this left her unable to counterattack with a strong enough technique to make a decisive blow.


    Enormous spikes of ice pierced through the thinner scales on one of the monster¡¯s fins. A spiritual presence Laurel hadn¡¯t expected to ever feel again was unveiled. The shock would have been enough to distract her from the fight if it wasn¡¯t also achingly familiar, and entirely in line with the drama the man cultivated like mana.


    The beast launched jet after jet of water, each of which was met with an ice shield to spend its energy on or a wave to divert it.


    ¡°You¡¯re late!¡± Laurel shouted and let out a genuine laugh, despite the circumstances.


    ¡°You picked somewhere far away!¡± drifted back. ¡°Let¡¯s end this¡±.


    Laurel¡¯s smile turned savage. She might be a sectmaster now, focused on teaching and nurturing, but before any of that she had been the Stormblade, and entire armies would surrender before facing her. A line of air thirty meters long hardened down to a razor''s edge. She layered in lightning, frozen within the air, and as much mana as she could control at once. The blade whipped forward, imbued with all of her willpower and understanding. The rage of a storm and the cutting intent of a blademaster.


    *********


    Ridge, now circling above the monster¡¯s reach, couldn''t understand what he just saw. A giant glowing blade had appeared and shot out towards the monster. Deafening thunder followed in its wake. His view was temporarily obscured by an explosion of coral, viscera, and steam fountaining into the air.


    When he could see the battle again it was just in time to see the severed head of the beast splashing down and slowly sinking beneath the waves. The rest of the corpse was buoyant enough that it remained floating on the surface, leaking blood and other fluids into the sea, staining the dark waters a murky red. The comm stones were silent as two individuals calmly looked at the beast, one floating midair and the other standing on water.


    Ridge startled out of his daze when the crystal Laurel had given him began to glow.


    ¡°I think we got it, General,¡± her voice came out of the personal crystal and echoed across the squadron¡¯s comm stones. ¡°Martin and I will dig out the core and see if we can get the thing to sink so we don¡¯t have to smell it for the next few months. You all are probably okay to go back in. No other spirit beasts would have hung around that thing. Tell anyone that got hurt I¡¯ll stop by and see if there¡¯s anything we can do. Injuries from mana infused attacks are trickier than mortal ones.¡±


    The last few months had been one earth-shaking revelation after another for the general. He had always been aware of magic, having met the love of his life while investigating accusations of witchcraft years ago. Being told the nature of magic was fundamentally changing had been a surprise, but one he thought he handled well. Then having an ancient sorceress set up a school-guild-something inside his city and make prophetic predictions about the world order coming under upheaval? Sure, he¡¯d taken the whole thing in stride. Seeing that same woman calmly cut a monster bigger than most buildings in half with what boiled down to extreme willpower? Apparently that was his limit.


    ¡°Alright boys,¡± he said across the comm, keeping his tone as even as possible, ¡°nothing more for us to do here, pack it in.¡± The squadron wheeled off back towards the air field, all of them trying to contemplate what the fuck just happened.

 Ch 40 - Fallout

    General Mansfeln was not a man prone to hysterics. He had seen much and done more in his early career, fighting pirate incursions on the south coast. Keeping a calm head while under pressure was what had earned him a promotion to commander of Fort Sarken and a position on the king¡¯s council. All of that was put to the test when he watched a sea monster coming for his city, swatting planes out of the air and shaking off explosions.


    They had won, that was all that mattered, and now he had thousands of soldiers keyed up with pre-fight jitters and nowhere to go. ¡°Listen up you lot¡± his voice carried out across the courtyard, silencing anyone except the very brave or very foolish. ¡°It seems instead of a fight we¡¯ve been given a gift! The perfect motivation to run emergency preparedness drills. You¡¯ll be practicing scenarios M7 through M10 for the rest of the day. This fort will be ready to respond to anything that comes our way. Officers, fall in for orders.¡±


    ********


    ¡°Stars above and below,¡± Esther breathed out. The whole sect, including the support staff, were huddled together in the lounge. The younger members had spent their nights exploring the features in the enchanted dome, and they had just used the magnification and far-sight options to watch Laurel battle a nightmare-inducing monster. They were still watching where Laurel was floating just above the waves next to a man none of them had ever seen before. Suddenly, Laurel turned back in the direction of the sect and squinted. Her expression quickly changed to a smile and she waved while elbowing her companion. He also turned to look and gave a wave.


    ¡°Is she looking at us?¡± Lucy asked. ¡°Hi Laurel!¡± she waved back as the cultivators turned to the carcass.


    ¡°We won¡¯t be having any difficulties recruiting after that display, I don¡¯t think¡± Adam announced into the general silence. The floodgates opened. The younger sect members began rapidly discussing everything they had seen during the fight, and speculating how long it would be until they could do something similar. Leander launched into a re-enactment, Rebecca playing the part of monster while Cooper joined in with commentary.


    Esther hurried back to the kitchen. A good meal was in order after something like that.


    ********


    Ridge hopped out of his plane and checked on his squadron. They were all shaken after seeing a fight so close to home, especially having been unable to influence it. Lieutenant Sharp had been taken to the doctors directly, but Ridge privately thought he would be lucky to keep the leg, given the same attack had turned a biplane into ash and scrap metal. He wandered over to where Trip was doing his post-flight check-in with the ground crew. The men walked a ways away to be less easily overheard.


    ¡°Do you have any insight you can give me into what just happened Captain?¡± Ridge asked.


    ¡°Not really, sir.¡± Trip responded. ¡°It was so fast. I¡¯m still not able to control ambient mana at all. I guess there¡¯s a whole special process for that. Laurel was flinging attacks around like it was nothing. And each one had enough power to fry me, you, and both our planes to a crisp. I have no idea what that thing at the end was either but it looked like it could cut a mountain in half. Laurel told us about battle techniques but, I mean, I couldn¡¯t have imagined something like that.¡±


    Ridge grunted in acknowledgement. The final attack had been straight out of one of the two-penny novels publishers were churning out en masse. ¡°So, you¡¯re telling me you aren¡¯t about to be able to fling lightning at our enemies?¡±


    Trip snorted in response. ¡°Maybe in another hundred years. The way Laurel describes it, I¡¯d probably have more luck trying to make a gun that shoots lightning. That might only take me a few decades. Sir,¡± he tacked the last on belatedly.


    ¡°Best get started then, Captain,¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡±


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    ¡°And Trip? I noticed the grenade you threw seemed a whole lot more effective than the rest. I¡¯m thinking any ideas you have about that are going to be run past Captain Varska from now on.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir.¡±


    *******


    The university students clustered around the campus park. When alarm bells had chimed from the harbor, students had rushed to the cliff tops for a chance to see what was happening. They broke off when it was clear the confrontation was over, settling into small groups discussing the fantastical nature of what they¡¯d just seen.


    ¡°Good luck getting anyone to sign up on a merchant vessel if that¡¯s the type of thing out there.¡±


    ¡°Did you see that? How the hell did they do that with planes?¡±


    ¡°Is that the same lady that visited in one of those career panels, she could fly right?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you Soren? You look like you¡¯re about to be sick.¡± One group of students stood further back, having drifted towards the dining hall after the excitement died down.


    ¡°That was the woman who came here talking about a magic school, I¡¯m sure of it.¡±


    ¡°Eh, maybe. Too far to tell. Why does that matter?¡±


    ¡°Why?! It matters because we called her a liar to her face, and then dragged her in front of the king to make her explain herself. Apparently she can do some sort of lightning anti-monster attack! We laughed at her! I laughed at her! My family needs to send an apology gift. What do magicians like? Fruit baskets? Scarves? Come on, we need ideas!¡±


    ¡°Calm down, she seemed nice.¡±


    Soren threw his arms up and stalked off from his friends, muttering about making amends, and calligraphy infused with squid ink.


    *******


    Laurel looked across a carcass at her oldest friend in the world. A man who had stood by her through more than their share of danger, who she considered her brother. ¡°So, not dead?¡± she said.


    ¡°Not dead.¡± Martin confirmed. ¡°Got stuck in a stasis chamber for a few hundred years, woke up a few months ago. Same for you?¡±


    ¡°Yep. Betrayed by the Tranquil Mountain and stuck in a box. There¡¯s a closed door cultivation joke in there somewhere.¡±


    He let out a roaring laugh, and it struck her in the chest far harder than anything from the monster. It wasn¡¯t a sound she¡¯d expected to hear again. ¡°We might have to hunt down if any of them made it through.¡±


    Laurel grunted in agreement and looked at the dead leviathan next to them. ¡°This is going to be disgusting¡± she said as she dropped onto its back.


    ¡°You¡¯re not wrong.¡± Martin said, joining her. ¡°I¡¯ll pull scales, hide, and coral. Your kill, so you can dig for the core.¡± She eyed him up and down. He looked the same as always. Much taller than Laurel, with broad shoulders and smiling eyes. And just as devious. ¡°Fine, but you¡¯re digging next time no matter who finishes it.¡±


    Laurel trudged off, pulling a large ax from storage as she went. She prodded with her spiritual senses to find the closest point to the beast core and started hacking away. Spirit beasts couldn¡¯t be flayed with mana, something about how they existed partially in the physical world and partially in the mana flows. Instead harvesting anything useful meant getting their hands dirty. Some cultivators of a philosophical nature would argue why this was, and that it was some sort of cosmic balance. Laurel just knew what had to be done. After all, she had promised her sect cultivation resources and a master-level monster didn¡¯t come around every day.


    They spent the time harvesting the useful parts of the creature catching up on what had happened to the both of them. The stories were almost identical, with being tricked and then trapped by the people they thought they were helping.


    ¡°I went to the old Citadel, but the place had been ransacked.¡± Martin said. He had cleared a section of scales and taken out a huge sword to start in on the skin.


    ¡°Ah, that was actually me,¡± Laurel admitted. ¡°I didn¡¯t think anyone else would be left at the time, so I took everything I thought might help me rebuild.¡±


    ¡°At the time, but not anymore?¡± Martin honed in on her wording.


    ¡°I¡¯ve had a lot of time to think in the last couple of years. The trap obviously went way beyond some third-tier sects we were sent to help. If they just wanted to keep us out of the way while they destroyed the world, why not kill us after they had us trapped? I¡¯m thinking maybe they always knew the seal would fail and mana would come back. They were keeping us around for exactly this.¡± She gestured all around to the field of blood and meat she was currently thigh-deep in. ¡°Maybe not exactly a coral leviathan, but the things like it. Weak mana means any cultivators won¡¯t have the training to recognize or deal with this kind of threat. So they put some masters on ice, to trot out when something dangerous showed up. I¡¯m not sure how they expected to control us, or if they thought we would just accept the new situation, but they must have had an idea.¡±


    ¡°It''s not a bad theory.¡° Martin acknowledged. ¡°I hadn¡¯t gotten around to the why yet, I¡¯ve mostly just been in survival mode. But if you¡¯re right, I wonder why we weren¡¯t met with a gun in the face when we woke up. Guns are awful by the way, a huge pain to shield against.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m aware, I got shot the first time I used mana publicly in Laskar. Maybe the seal lasted for longer than they thought, or maybe something happened to whoever put it in place. Because the place I woke up in was a ruin.¡±


    ¡°Do you think the others¡­¡± Martin let his sentence trail off.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe. Maybe there are masters from some of the other sects, but I just don¡¯t know. I¡¯m almost afraid to hope.¡± Martin and Laurel had been part of a larger team that would complete jobs for the sect or travel around hunting down resources or competing in tournaments. Best friends that experienced the highs and lows of a life of adventure at each others¡¯ sides. They worked mostly in silence after that, filled with joy at a reunion, and the melancholy of conspicuously absent friends.

 Ch 41 - The Prodigal Sun Returns

    It had been midmorning when Laurel hurried off from the sect compound, but she and Martin didn¡¯t return to shore until the sun had already set. Harvesting useful parts from beasts they killed was a fact of life for cultivators. That didn¡¯t mean it wasn¡¯t disgusting. They hadn¡¯t even gotten everything, but trying to dig out the bones without a team was not worth it.


    Sinking the beast had been its own trial. They couldn¡¯t find whatever organ or system was keeping it afloat, and resorted to drilling as many holes as they could with wind and ice until the water pulled it under.


    They were absolutely covered in freezing-cold filth by the time they reached the shore. Without hesitation they both stripped and threw their clothes into a pile, which Laurel happily set on fire. Scrubbing with the harshest soap they had on hand and rinsing with a water crystal they were finally at least good enough to go back to the sect house.


    An army messenger was just arriving at the same time. Laurel shook her head. ¡°Tomorrow.¡± she said firmly. ¡°We¡¯ll do the full interrogation tomorrow, just send someone over with the location.¡±


    The messenger saw the wisdom in choosing one¡¯s battles, and left without saying a word.


    Martin let out a low whistle as they approached. ¡°You did good, L. I can feel some of the enchantments already, it would take an army to batter those doors down.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± she replied. ¡°The City Core obviously helps, and it could use a bit of decoration to make the outside look less like a prison, but for now I¡¯m happy with it.¡± She paused for a moment. ¡°Oh, do you speak Meristan yet? We should switch back to introduce everyone.¡±


    ¡°Of course I do, what do you think I¡¯ve been doing for the last few months?¡±


    ¡°Taking your sweet time is what I think you¡¯ve been doing.¡±


    They were both laughing as the doors opened to reveal their sect mates waiting for them. A small cheer went up at the sight of them and they moved en masse to the dining hall.


    ¡°I¡¯ve told a few stories of growing up in the sect. This is the man who had all the bad ideas in those stories, my brother Martin.¡± Laurel told them all.


    ¡°They may have been my ideas but she was the one that led the way straight into them.¡± Martin said. Laurel continued around the table making introductions. Once that was done Esther rounded some of the kids up to help her bring in dinner. What emerged was a veritable feast.


    ¡°Esther, you must have been working on this all day!¡± Laurel exclaimed.


    ¡°Yes, well,¡± Esther responded with a sniff, ¡°fighting a sea monster is a special occasion, isn¡¯t it.¡± They all tucked in, accompanied by what had become the standard chorus of compliments and moans directed towards the chef.


    ¡°You¡¯re my favorite,¡± Martin said, staring at Esther with deadly seriousness.


    The laughter and general cheer continued through dinner. Laurel hadn¡¯t realized how concerned she was that the others would begin treating her differently after seeing her fight. Turned out it was a non-issue. Not even a spectacular magical battle could make Adam or Annette react with anything less than their usual curmudgeonly grumbles or polite formality.  If anything, some of the younger members were too excited. Leander and Cooper wanted to know when they would be able to shoot lightning at things.


    ¡°Walk before you run¡± Martin cut into the conversation here. ¡°Lightning is the element that hurts the most when you get it wrong. Most folks start with fire if they¡¯re going that route.¡± That dimmed some of the urgency, if not the desire.


    They migrated up to the lounge after dinner, spreading out on the various seating areas and poking at the small projects that had naturally accumulated.


    The ¡°grown-up table¡± as the students had begun to call it was in the center of the room, with a dedicated tea service and several plush couches in a rich cerulean. Annette, Adam, Martin and Laurel each took  one of the couches, relaxing after the high stress day.


    It was Martin who broke the contented silence. ¡°So, I know you tricked these two into being sect officers,¡± he gestured at the others with a grin. ¡°What horrible title do you have for me?¡±


    Laurel had been brewing the tea and passed out the cups before answering. She pinned Martin with a hard stare and said ¡°Elder.¡±


    He bolted upright from where he had flopped across the cushions. ¡°We are not that old yet!¡±.


    ¡°No,¡± Laurel acknowledged his point, ¡°but we are the oldest.¡± When that clearly didn¡¯t mollify him she changed tack. ¡°We can add on Combat Master?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s much better¡± he said while laying back down. ¡°I¡¯ll whip these kids into shape faster than you can say Stormblade.¡± Laurel snorted and sipped her tea.


    The others had been observing the exchange silently and Annette took the opportunity to join in. ¡°We watched the fight, you know, using the far-sight enchantment in the glass. We had no idea who Martin was when he showed up, but I think if we could have heard you it would have taken about ten seconds to realize you grew up together.¡± The whole group laughed and they spent a pleasant evening getting to know one another. Eventually, despite the excitement of the day, everyone except Martin and Laurel went to bed.  The two of them slipped into quiet cultivation until the sun rose the next morning. Recovering from the fight and preparing for what was to come.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    They chatted as Laurel led Martin outside to the pavilion where they usually held cultivation practice. They were expecting about 20 students. The original 6 still attended, though Theresa would be leaving for Lanport in another week or so. Then there were the other dozen students the sect had picked up from their combined recruiting efforts, and a few extra soldiers the fort had been sending over.


    ¡°I¡¯m thinking we split them into groups and have them cycle between cultivation practice and physical training. Eventually we¡¯ll have to work out a schedule for more advanced lessons for the sect members, but that is still a ways off,¡± Laurel said. Martin agreed readily and they both started setting up any equipment they thought they would need.


    **********


    If any of the students thought an extra instructor might make things easier, they were mistaken. Laurel was fair but exacting. She would try different strategies if one wasn¡¯t working, but she pushed them to their absolute limit each time. They should have anticipated that Martin had similarly high standards. His teaching philosophy seemed to be ¡®run, and keep running, and if you get so tired you can¡¯t run then you should probably be doing push-ups¡¯. The students were all panting by the end, staggering around when they were finally sent inside to get lunch and go to the rest of their chores and lessons. The soldiers were eyeing the distance to the fort as though they wanted to cry, but gamely started off.


    At about this time the messenger Laurel had sent off yesterday had reappeared. ¡°An hour from now in the palace, ma¡¯am.¡± she said, giving a small salute as well. Laurel indicated she¡¯d gotten the message and the woman was off again.


    ¡°Do you want to come?¡± she asked Martin, with absolutely no hope of him accepting.


    ¡°Ah, actually I think I hear Lucy calling me inside, probably an emergency I should handle instead.¡± he said with the utmost seriousness.


    ¡°Well we can¡¯t have that, I¡¯ll let you know how it goes.¡±


    *******


    The beginning of the meeting with the king¡¯s council went exactly as anyone could have predicted. What was that (giant monster), how did you kill it (magic), who was that guy (old friend), does he want to protect another city (no), are you sure (yes), what if we paid him (still no), how can our people fight that (magic practice, maybe magic guns), what will we do if another one shows up (call for help and/or bigger explosions).


    After the council finished venting their helplessness at the situation they got down to the details. ¡°That was beyond what we could have fought off on our own,¡± The king said flatly. ¡°Maybe if we bombarded it with the artillery in the fort and on the cliffs, we might have eventually taken it down, but at that point the damage done to the city and port would have been catastrophic.¡±


    ¡°This was what we would call a master-level monster, because it takes master cultivators to destroy it. I admit, I was overly optimistic in my timelines when I thought it would take another couple of years for that level of threat to start showing up. I believe your forces will be sufficient for most of the threats you might face. Otherwise, this is why we made our deal. Maybe that¡¯s worth focusing on instead of reinforcing nobles¡¯ houses.¡±


    Laurel tried to temper the anger but ultimately this is the way the world was going to be from now on, and they were right to be concerned. The feeling in the room dropped to frigid after her outburst, but they had already wrung enough concessions out of her with that ridiculous trial.


    ¡°What about shipping, what are we supposed to do if something like that can show up at any time.¡± Madam Curson jumped in with an actually valid question, though not as concerning as they might think.


    ¡°Spirit beasts, monsters, whatever you call them, they are all drawn to mana concentrations. Once they get that big they¡¯ll rarely bother with individual ships. Maybe an armada, but they don¡¯t tend to interfere on a scale smaller than that. The smaller ones you fight off or outrun. In time there will be enough cultivators that shipping companies will start hiring some of them as security, if we follow the patterns of the past.¡±


    ¡°Oh good¡± Curson replied in a dry tone, ¡°It''s only our large groupings of vulnerable citizens that will be attacked¡±.


    ¡°You make a fair point, Councilor.¡± Laurel said. ¡°I do have a couple of ideas that might help.¡± The king waved for her to continue. ¡°The first is a more expansive use of the sound crystals. You could set up a network among your more remote populations and army bases in order to respond to escalated threats.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely! When can you deliver and how many?¡± General Mansfeln was almost coming out of his seat. Being unable to hear what was going on in the fight with the leviathan had made an impression.


    ¡°You can coordinate details and payment with my sect Quartermaster. Since those will be made by students and not with the resources of the City Core. Now the other option is more complex.¡± She was rather proud of that little maneuver, making it clear they would be paid for their services, within reason, while shunting some responsibility to Annette, who might actually enjoy it. ¡°You may recall from our initial meetings that City Cores need not just tending but also resources to grow. The arrival of higher tier monsters should mean natural treasures manifesting at mana nodes. These can be integrated into the City Core to open new functions. Put a water treasure in the network and the sewer system will improve. Put air treasures in and we get cleaner air and the ability to sound city-wide alarms. With enough natural treasures placed into the city¡¯s mana infrastructure, we could manifest a defensive shield, among other things.¡±


    ¡°Why haven¡¯t we been doing that from the start?¡± Theresa asked the reasonable question on everyone¡¯s mind.


    ¡°We couldn¡¯t have used anything at the beginning. The mana was already so volatile when I got here that trying to add in a natural treasure would have either ruined the treasure or caused a modest explosion,¡± Laurel said. ¡°Natural treasures are also hard to find and even harder to harvest. Then they have to be transported carefully, like the delicate flowers they are, if they are to remain viable for integration.¡±


    She gave them a moment to process before revealing the other catch. ¡°My students aren¡¯t yet advanced enough to go harvest by themselves, so either Martin, or I would need to be the ones to do it.¡±


    The council debated back and forth for a while, with Laurel offering clarifications and details when asked. At long last, seemingly  every angle had been explored, including ongoing rights on who would own the treasures, which Laurel convinced them should be whoever had the will to find and harvest them, and how to recognize one, which was mostly just about feeling the area and looking for something shiny. The king announced his decision.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have the magical firepower to handle the threats we¡¯re facing. We need the extra defense that building up the city core will provide. Theresa will be working to establish our other cities but we¡¯ll need to plan to implement this same thing across the country as soon as possible. Laurel, while I am not in the habit of restricting the movement of free citizens, I would ask that either you or Martin remain in the area at all times.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s easily done, we need to keep training our members anyway. Though I won¡¯t promise that will always be the case¡± Laurel reluctantly agreed.


    ¡°I would also ask that you take some of our new cultivator corps with you on these trips. They need to learn about identifying and transporting these resources. And they can assist under your command.¡±


    Laurel drummed her fingers along the table-top. This was a concession she hadn¡¯t anticipated. ¡°Fine. However in compensation, the sect will have first right of refusal on any natural treasures we find under my leadership once they regrow. And I¡¯ll have to insist that ongoing ownership does not default to the state. Finder¡¯s rights.¡±


    ¡°We will agree to those terms. When you are ready to incorporate these treasures, we¡¯ll call Theresa back to observe the process. Now, does anyone have any further questions before we adjourn?¡± The king made eye contact with everyone around the table.


    Ridge jumped in, with a question that had been nagging him the whole meeting, if Laurel was any judge. ¡°What were you doing all day on the leviathan, you and your friend stayed out there for hours?¡±


    ¡°Harvesting.¡± Laurel replied as though it was obvious (it was not obvious).


    ¡°Harvesting what?¡± General Mansfeln looked disturbed by the implications.


    ¡°The core for one. Beasts build up mana in a central core that is extremely useful in crafting and general cultivation. Then the rest of the usual things you¡¯d take from an animal. Skin and scales mostly. We hacked off a good bit of meat as well though we aren¡¯t sure yet if it''s actually edible.¡±


    None of them had any further questions they wanted to ask after that, vaguely afraid of what answers they might hear, and the meeting broke up.


    That evening Laurel relayed the highlights of her meeting with the council to the rest of the sect. Namely that she and Martin would need to start traveling to find certain resources for the sect and the city. The apprehension turned to excitement when she revealed they would be taking a few of the initiates with them to gain experience outside of the sect.


    ¡°We have about a month to prepare,¡± Laurel concluded, ¡°so if you thought training up to this point was tough, well, the next few weeks are going to be revelatory.¡±

 Ch 42 - Leanders Day Off

    Leander rolled out of bed with a groan as the sun started streaming through the window of his room.  Even months later he could hardly believe that he had a window or a room of his own. He wanted to go back to sleep, but if he missed the beginning of the lessons then Laurel would tell him she was disappointed. That had happened once and he had felt so bad he could hardly pay attention to anything for the rest of the day. Despite what the adults kept telling him,if he disappointed any of them too much, they might make him leave the sect. Of course they told him it was for life, that he wouldn¡¯t be kicked out for getting in trouble, but that was not how anything ever worked.


    The scent of breakfast  drew him down to the kitchens, where he found Esther already hard at work. Esther was nice to him, always offering food and not pressuring him to say anything. Even with the stone he wore around his neck, he didn¡¯t always like talking. A lifetime of being quiet was hard to change. She gave him a flaky pastry filled with eggs and bacon and told him needed to fatten up some. He didn¡¯t need to fatten up, he needed muscles! Martin had lots of muscles, and last week when a giant monster came out of the ocean he had shown up to punch it in the face! Probably. If he was strong enough they would take him on the adventures they were planning. He would be useful! And then he would definitely get to stay.


    Leander was just licking his fingers after finishing the pastry when he got to the training field. The art tent was now a pavilion-thing and the empty field was now half hard packed dirt, half very fine sand, and half soft grass. Or something, he was working on math with the tutor. Somehow they kept it dry even in winter when a fine slush covered the rest of the city. Laurel and Martin were already there. They were always already there. Leander thought Laurel had told him something about cultivation and sleep once but he¡¯d forgotten and didn¡¯t want to bother her by asking again. Both masters were meditating so he sat down to join them.


    Cultivation practice was good. He was at the point of sustained cultivation, like Captain Trip, when he would be able to cultivate for hours on end without getting exhausted. Laurel was having him begin to ¡®smooth out his natural mana flows¡¯ before he could make his meridians. But it was so slow, and he always lost the pattern after a while. It was practically naptime compared to Martin¡¯s class on what he called ¡°physical conditioning¡±. That was a  grueling cycle of running, push-ups, squats, and a half-dozen other exercises. Then when they were ¡®limbered up¡¯, he drilled them in basic kicks and punches. They didn¡¯t even practice against each other yet! Just did the moves on repeat in empty air, and if Martin thought you weren¡¯t doing it right he would make you hold halfway through the pose until your arms and legs were shaking while he prodded you back into place.


    They finished lessons and all the students trooped back inside to wash up before lunch. Esther hated it when they showed up to eat still sweaty from morning classes. Leander mostly listened as the rest discussed their cultivation or what they were working on in the afternoon. He would join in on occasion but he preferred to let everyone¡¯s chattering wash over him.


    After lunch he had a different kind of struggle. He was mostly grateful for the tutoring, but some of this stuff was just so boring. But if he had to learn history and math and all the other stuff in order to stay then he would.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Late afternoons were free time. Some days, Leander explored the sect house and all the nooks and crannies that were hidden away.  He had spent some time with Rebecca finding the people who were friendly to him when he lived in the Flats to see if they wanted to join the sect. But that was mostly done now. No matter what Laurel thought, there weren¡¯t that many nice people in the Flats worth recruiting.


    Today it was time for an adventure. After all, he¡¯d completed missions for Annette already, and he could cultivate. Laurel said challenges brought the best growth so he would go out and find a challenge. Somewhere. He put on his dirtiest everyday sect outfit, no need to ruin his nice ones. Annette had bought them back when she got the rest of the uniforms and had brought them out a month ago as a surprise. The outer coat went down to his knees, light but still enough to cut the cool breeze. It was gray, with the sect emblem embroidered, like all their clothes, and there were tons of pockets on the inside for useful things. A spool of string and some emergency snacks and he was ready.


    Standing on the top of the steps he looked towards the Flats. The memories weren¡¯t all bad but why spend more time there? He turned and trudged to the road and then out of the city into the surrounding fields. Laurel said new animals and plants were showing up all over. She¡¯d even gone with the army to hunt some during the trial. They were useful and could be turned in at the contribution point store. Martin and Laurel had said the bits they pulled off the sea monster were treasures worth enough that people could live off of for a lifetime.


    Daydreams of coming home with a one of a kind treasure and being the sect hero sustained him for another kilometer or so. At this point the road was getting boring so he veered off towards some trees. The mud in some places was up to his ankles, but the boots were water-proof and went up to his knees so he was fine. Cultivators didn¡¯t flinch at a little mud.


    A rustle shook a tree branch when he got close. He paused, looking around. Then he reminded himself that he was a wizard now, and reached out with his spiritual senses. Something was definitely there. Leander dropped into the stance Martin had been drilling him in. Feet apart, one out in front, fists up to defend. He stood there and looked around. Once you get in the stance, how do you get the other thing to come close enough to hit? Ever so slowly he reached into one of his snack pockets, and pulled out some candies. Then as quick as he could, he chucked one at the tree. When nothing happened he threw another, then another, then the whole handful.


    Something white and blurry shot out of the tree towards him. He scrambled to regain his stance and lashed out with a perfect punch at the blur. He missed. Martin had not covered what to do when you missed! The blur screeched and came towards him claws out. Arms in front of his face, he felt the claws tear into his skin. Tears pooled in his eyes but he refused to cry. Cultivators didn¡¯t cry when they were attacked, they attacked back! But the blur kept clawing at him and he couldn¡¯t focus through the tears to see where to punch. He couldn¡¯t take it anymore, he just wanted the thing away.


    When he thought the word away, something pushed out from his body. The blur was slammed into the tree trunk with a sharp crack. It was still long enough for Leander to realize it was an owl. The wrong place and too early in the day, but magic owls probably had different rules than the regular ones. It was breathing, but he could tell it was in pain. He took his stance again and went for a quick kick. If he cried during, no one was around to see. He picked up the corpse and almost teared up again when he realized he was bleeding, and it was at least three kilometers through the cold mud back to the sect house.


    ¡°Leander! We wondered where you¡¯d gone.¡± Martin wasn¡¯t the first person Leander had hoped to see when he got back. ¡°What have you got there?¡±


    He held up the owl, now stiff.


    ¡°Ah first kill? Well, now''s as good a time as any for a little harvesting lesson.¡±

 Ch 43 - Open House

    Laurel was leaving. Fine. Annette understood the necessity. She might even be interested in seeing some more of the world herself eventually. That didn¡¯t mean it wasn¡¯t highly inconvenient for her plans.


    Annette stood at one end of the table while everyone enjoyed dinner. ¡°I¡¯ve taken out ads in one of the more fashionable papers. Next rest day we will be having our new annual open house.¡±


    The rest of the sect looked around at each other as though someone would come up with more explanation.


    ¡°What¡¯s an open house?¡± It was Martin who finally took the bait.


    Annette was rather pleased. ¡°Thank you, Martin. Many of the local noble houses set aside days each year where common citizens can visit their estates and enjoy the art and architecture. Some of the bigger merchant houses or fashionable artisans have started employing the practice as well, to showcase new and exciting wares.¡±


    ¡°So it''s a chance to gawp at the rich folk,¡± Adam said. ¡°We aren¡¯t merchants, we don¡¯t need to let a bunch of potential thieves case the joint.¡±


    Leander agreed with this piece of wisdom. Everyone in the Flats knew you don¡¯t show strangers where you hide the valuables.


    ¡°We aren¡¯t a merchant house but we are an institution that could use some public goodwill. Especially after that trial.¡± Annette had come prepared with her arguments.


    ¡°Stars above, I¡¯m glad I missed that whole mess,¡± Martin said.


    ¡°Not helpful Martin.¡± Annette was not going to lose the initiative here.


    ¡°I thought you said people mostly liked us already?¡± Laurel said.


    ¡°They did. Then you two¡± she pointed at Laurel and Martin, ¡°You two flew around the harbor and fought off a giant sea monster using ice spikes and lightning swords. People liked us when they thought we were teaching a few people how to heal a broken arm. Now they aren¡¯t so sure.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been reading the papers. There have been a few articles about us since the trial. Nothing negative so far, but we need to strike while the iron is hot, control the narrative. We are the organization behind the city¡¯s heroes, and we want everyone to remember that when merchants start sniffing around for a profit.¡±


    ¡°Or when they come for the books.¡± Adam narrowed his eyes at the imagined book thieves he was sure were imminent.


    ¡°Less likely, but yes, that''s the idea.¡±


    Laurel let out a short laugh. ¡°Well, it sounds like you¡¯ve already put everything into motion so I suppose we¡¯ll have to follow through.¡±


    ********


    Annette paced down the hall, cataloging the casual revolutions that were on display; marking things off of the list she was carrying. Lights that didn¡¯t need oil and could be turned on and off with a tap of the hand. A hollow box that produced a pleasant breeze as air was drawn through it and purified. Tables and slates that hovered midair without support and could be used for serving or worktops. All visible but not obviously being shown off. Neither Laurel nor Martin were skilled at enchanting, according to them. They also had no desire to spend weeks working on one commissioned project for a wealthy merchant or nobleman. Small, easily made, quality of life improvements their members could make would be their financial path forward. At least until some of the children developed crafting hobbies of their own, or they were able to attract master artisans and teach them to cultivate in exchange for a portion of their proceeds. According to the ancient Eternal Archive ledgers, hundreds of years ago, the crafting members of a sect were extraordinarily wealthy, and the sect¡¯s share of those profits was enough to beggar kings.


    She arrived at the foyer where Esther was fussing at the end of a long trestle table lining the side of the room. A quick inspection confirmed the outfit Laurel had first given her to meet the king had survived her walk-through in pristine condition. On the table was more food than Annette had ever seen in a single place short of a festival. The scents hit her, a heady mix of warm spices, roasted meats, and buttery pastry. She even spied the lamb, fig, and rosemary parcels that were her own favorites and looked at them longingly before turning away.


    ¡°You¡¯ve outdone yourself, Esther.¡± The woman in question blushed and waved her hand as if batting the compliment away before it could strike.


    ¡°I¡¯m just doing my part. We want the whole city to know we¡¯re friendly right?¡± She nodded to herself and hurried back in the direction of the kitchens without waiting for an answer. Even as tight-lipped as she was about her and Lucy¡¯s past, Esther was fast becoming the most beloved member of the sect.


    Annette started one of the deep breathing patterns she¡¯d been taught in order to calm her nerves. She waited for the rest of the sect leadership to arrive and went through a mental checklist. It was almost time to begin, and she had already seen people beginning to arrive in their front courtyard when she had peeked out of one of the upstairs windows.


    Laurel showed up first with the ever-present smile. ¡°The private areas are officially sealed for anyone not a sworn sect member,¡± she announced.


    She came to stand next to Annette, after detouring to grab one of the pastries stuffed with spicy minced beef and cheese. She was back in ¡®Sectmaster¡¯ mode, black silk trousers and blouse and enough metallic jewelry that it would have been considered graceless if not for the aura of authority she seemed to be able to turn on and off at will. Annette made a mental note to ask her how it was done, as she was sure it had to be some subtle mana manipulation. Or maybe fighting monsters for a hundred years changed one¡¯s perspective and that came across in her bearing.


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    ¡°The young ones are all paired up for the day, and they were wearing clean uniforms when I left them.¡± Martin came jogging down the steps. ¡°I won¡¯t promise they still are but I think that¡¯s about the best we can expect.¡±


    Apparently all master cultivators kept full formalwear in their spatial storage because Annette had definitely never commissioned anything for him. Yet he was wearing black leather trousers and some sort of coat that was fitted to the waist and draped down behind him, along with the sect¡¯s signature accessories, metal bracelets and armbands glinting in the soft light.


    Adam was the last to join them. ¡°I¡¯m still not sure we should be allowing library access to any random ruffian that wanders in.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Laurel stepped in to head off a repeat of last night¡¯s argument and threw her arm around Adam¡¯s shoulders, giving him a little shake. ¡°The infused mana flows in there are some of the most complex in the building. No one can remove a book from the shelf without permission from one of us, and anyone trying to remove something from the premises will be in for a rather nasty shock. Nonlethal.¡±


    Reconciling where she was a year ago with the fact that she now lived in a place that required specifications like ¡°nonlethal¡± security was a task Annette mentally filed under ¡®later¡¯.


    After one last quick glance at everything, Annette turned to Laurel. ¡°Sectmaster, welcome them in.¡±


    Laurel turned on her heel and strode towards the door. With an extravagant wave of her arms¨Cone that Annette had confirmed was entirely for dramatic effect¨Cthe huge doors swung out, leaving Laurel standing atop the short flight of stairs and looking out over a hundred or so curious Meristans.


    ¡°Welcome all! Through the wisdom of good King Edward, the Eternal Archive has built our home in your unique city. Now we would like to take this opportunity to share that home with you all. Please come in. Eat, drink, explore! Members in black and silver will be leading tours for all those interested.¡±


    The crowd surged forward and chaos descended. It felt like the entire city was eager to get a peek inside the mysterious new organization. Annette had no more time to worry as she was swarmed with people asking questions or looking for a tour. She did her best to answer, ignoring the (thankfully few) people trying to get a reaction asking things like ¡°is this a cult?¡± and ¡°you know magic isn¡¯t real, right?¡±. Taking the first dozen or so she started off on a tour.


    The groups blended together in her mind until she arrived back in the foyer to see a handful of people holding notebooks and discussing together. The small feathers she could spot in hat brims or lapels marked them as members of the Associated Press. The journalism guild was fast increasing their influence across the country. Imagining the articles that would be published after an unsupervised interview with Martin or Laurel, she made directly for them, suppressing a shudder. Those two tended towards unsubtle honesty, and that is not the proper handling of a Meristan reporter.


    ¡°Welcome to the Eternal Archive, I¡¯m Annette Rada, the sect Quartermaster¡± she said.


    ¡°Kramer Vance, Verilian Express¡±


    ¡°Felicia Stanton, The Ladies Court¡±


    ¡°Sasha Melancourt, freelance¡±


    ¡°Josiah Banecroft,  Quills of Progress¡±


    ¡°Viviana Capet, Merchant Guild Newsletter¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re very glad you could all attend.¡± Annette recognized two city focused publications, one national weekly, and one high society gossip pamphlet. ¡°Would you all like to join me on a tour? We can talk through questions you might have during that time as well.¡± They started off with a tour of the classrooms and workshops where Annette had carefully staged materials to make them look used, without being messy.


    ¡°What exactly is it you are teaching people here?¡± Ms. Stanton asked as the reporters spread out around a classroom to poke and prod at the furniture.


    ¡°We focus on cultivation.¡± Annette replied. Heading off any confusion she added ¡°It¡¯s the formal name for magic and all its uses. We¡¯ve also employed some tutors to round out the education of our younger members. In future, we¡¯ll be expanding to specific sub-specialties of cultivation and crafting as well.¡±


    The group moved on. They passed through the kitchens, where Esther forced cookies into the hands of nonplussed reporters. Next stop was the solarium. The room faced away from the city, so it was a surprise to the guests. A mostly-glass enclosure built off of one side of the sect house, it had several calm places to sit and meditate. ¡°Eventually plants will be grown year-round to give a taste of nature even in winter.¡±


    ¡°How is the glass so clear?¡± Vance asked. The man had said little up to this point but was now spinning around like an amazed child.


    ¡°Magic mostly¡± Annette smirked. ¡°It is also spelled to pull in more light when needed, while filtering out enough to prevent sunburns.¡±


    ¡°All this, and the power to fight off gargantuan beasts. Should the people be worried? What exactly are the Archive¡¯s intentions?¡± Sasha Melancourt sidled into the conversation, pen in hand.


    Once more thanking fate she hadn¡¯t let Martin or Laurel talk to these people, Annette carefully crafted her reply. ¡°The sect was founded on the ideals of stewarding knowledge. The modern iteration will continue to do so. Of course we will work to strengthen and defend the city and the nation against threats that arise.¡±


    ¡°Our sources say the leaders of your group are from the Laskarian Empire. How are we supposed to believe they won¡¯t turn on us?¡± Sasha attempted a different angle.


    ¡°Laurel and Martin were attacked and imprisoned in Laskar, so they hardly have any pleasant feelings towards the Empire. They have embraced Merista as their new home and have already fought to defend it.¡±


    Upon entering the library for the end of the tour, Annette and her group of journalists saw Adam looking ready to start a fight with a gaggle of old men.


    ¡°You may come during visiting hours and examine the texts then. But you will not remove them from the premises! That was made clear to the Scholar¡¯s Guild leaders.¡± Adam was practically shouting at the leader of the group.


    His opponent was incensed at this denial. ¡°We are the foremost experts on ancient history and languages in the entire country! In the world!  This collection should be transferred to the Royal University immediately.¡±


    Adam leaned back and crossed his arm. ¡°No,¡± he hissed. ¡°The collection is staying, visit or don¡¯t.¡± With that clear dismissal he turned on his heel, stomped back to his desk and proceeded to glare at the green-robed professors. Muttering amongst themselves they slowly backed out.


    ¡°You will be hearing more from us.¡± The leader finally turned and left after that ominous statement.


    Annette pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. Fine. It was fine that these people had just seen that confrontation with another major player in local politics. Looking to salvage the situation she led her reporters over to Adam.


    ¡°This is Adam de Ranier, our sect''s Loremaster. As you can see he is quite passionate about maintaining controlled access to the collection.¡± The reporters all murmured the appropriate greetings and looked around, but the glazed look in their eyes told Annette they were already busy drafting the stories for their next edition.


    When she finally returned the group to the foyer the stream of new visitors had wound down. Laurel was standing in the middle of a group of parents with small children, somehow projecting light into the form of small animals and having them move around. As Annette and her reporters watched, she materialized a one foot tall leviathan on top of her open hand.


    Annette turned to her reporters, listening to the sound of cheering children. ¡°Was there anything else you were interested in seeing?¡±


    ¡°Thank you for the tour, but I¡¯m afraid I need to get going if I¡¯m going to have the write-up in time for the next edition.¡± Vance said. The others made similar noises and departed. Not, however, before stopping to grab more food on the way. Their highest pressure guests safely left without seeing anything too disturbing or sensational. The merchants and other professionals that had wandered through had seen the everyday magic items. Everything was going according to plan.


    ***********


    Laurel¡¯s awareness slowly expanded from where she was sitting on the roof of the sect house. The building itself loomed large in her spiritual senses, the amount of mana coursing through it and the anchoring of the Core had made it blinding to metaphysical sight. As she acclimated, she picked out her still-sleeping sectmates. Each had a subtly different pattern in their mana signature, she was pleased to see. Coherent patterns rather than an uncontrolled blob of mana showed them as true cultivators.


    Pushing further she felt the shape of the city and it''s never-ceasing currents, fading off into the sea and plains of the surrounding region. Her own mana cycled in time to the raging rivers around her. Finally, she plunged her consciousness deep into the City Core.

 Ch 44 - Waking Up

    Emerald eyes flicked open. A quick glance around the room showed he was alone. Good, exactly as planned. He stood and smoothed down his blood red robe, picking off an imaginary piece of lint. The mirror hanging on the far wall showed him no change from when he went to sleep. His hand dragged over his jawline, not even a millimeter of growth, it would seem. A line of runes divided the room in half. Inlaid with silver, they glowed faintly, fading away to nothing over the course of a minute. When they were once more dull metal, he stepped across and approached a plane of crystal inlaid in the wall.


    A few taps brought up a map of the continent. A dozen small yellow lights appeared, spread out throughout. A few dead spots showed up as well. He would have to take a tour and see if they had simply woken up early or if a landslide or something had destroyed the enchantments. That was unlikely. Marcia had been the best in the world before a crisis of conscience meant she had to be culled from their group. His fingers tapped another pattern and the map disappeared, replaced by a few lines of Alrasian. The top line read one thousand  five-hundred and seven years. His eyebrows raised, that was far longer than predicted. Even their most optimistic estimates had been seven centuries at most. He thought for a moment and decided this was an excellent development. The farther removed from the paradigms of the past, the easier to replace with something better.


    The next line indicated ambient mana density. Almost back to historical levels, that was good. Not too much time for the cosmic anchors to be re-established. More information on the mana infrastructure scrolled past, but Lawrence mostly skimmed. The main idea to take from all this was that their project had been a success. Since no one was waiting for him, he could safely assume he was the first up. Perfect. He might respect the others, but it would be best if he had some time to establish himself before they muddied the waters with their constant squabbling.


    He picked up a ring that was left on a table and put it on. Running through the contents he saw a few reagents that he would need to dispose of, but overall it had held up satisfactorily. Storage rings were not perfect, but far exceeded anything except for the tattoos the Eternal Archive could make. A shame the technique had to be lost but he was sure they would rediscover it in time. Their masters were likely to be the most problematic to work with as well, but they were all pragmatic enough to see reason. Eventually. One last survey of the room told him he had everything and it was time to go.


    Lawrence exited the cozy bedroom back out into the crypt with a slight smile. Another plan well realized, mortals were always leery of doing anything to disturb the dead. No defensive measures had been triggered and he was able to return to the surface with no one the wiser. The tunnels eventually let him into the back of a rundown building, which itself opened onto an out-of-the-way alley. The sun was bright enough to make him blink once, though not enough to make his mana-reinforced eyes so much as water.


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    Making his way to a busier thoroughfare, Lawrence took note of everything he saw or felt with his spirit. Far too much lead, but that was something they could work around. Too many people, many more than their predictions accounted for. Even without pressing he could tell the ambient mana was in chaos around such a large population center. Language had gone further than he would have liked as well. A few words sounded familiar but he couldn¡¯t quite understand. Frustrating, but fixable. He casually strolled down the grimy street. Reaching out, he grabbed a man and dragged him around a corner and out of sight without anyone noticing.


    ¡°Now let¡¯s see,¡± he said. His arm was cutting off the man¡¯s airway enough to prevent him from shouting, but not enough to kill him. Lawrence rifled through his mind, picking out the useful thoughts underneath the terror. A bit of language was naturally transferred as well. A strand of mana left the man unconscious on the ground as the cultivator went back to the road. The process repeated several times gave him a decent enough understanding.


    The ugly castle on the hill belonged to an emperor that had outlawed magic. Even with all their planning he was unsure if he could have designed a better place to start. The message would need to be altered slightly, but a mistrust in anyone unauthorized using magic was an excellent foundation.They hadn¡¯t discovered how to use the City Core but he could enter as the wise master and take that responsibility easily enough. Or pawn it off on one of the others when they showed up.


    An initiate level cultivator leapt out of a shadow he was passing in an attempt to subdue him. Lawrence simply grabbed the girl by the throat and forced his way into her mind. She had no defenses to speak of and he was left with an even better understanding of the situation. Magic was outlawed except for what the emperor used for himself. That, he could most definitely work with. These so-called magehunters would need some attention, however. It seemed most of them were barely cultivators, with the stronger half having opened their meridians by accident, and the weaker ones left to molder in a prison compound of sorts.


    A quick twist of his arms snapped the girl''s neck, her body sent to his storage ring before she even realized she was dead. He continued his survey. Political climate, somewhat contentious but workable. Military strength, excellent. Population centers, good for now, and growing. Knowledge on cultivation, sorely lacking.


    His meandering path had led him to the castle gates, where he joined a line for entry. This emperor would be one to keep. Set on the right path he would work towards Lawrence¡¯s goals well enough, and leave him enough time to take the rest of the masters in hand.

 Ch 45 - On The Road

    The squadron blazed through a clear sky as they set off on their journey. Laurel looked out over her temporary team. The officers she¡¯d come to think of as her usual pilots were flying them in a vee formation above a pristine countryside. It had been officially spring for weeks, though winter refused to relinquish its grip this far north. A forest of stately evergreens spread out to their left as they flew south, following the Via Merista. The highway snaked through the hills, leading them onward. Leander, bundled up in the seat behind Trip, was pointing off to a small village. The pilot proved his nickname accurate when he veered out of formation to take a closer look. Being the third such sidetrip of the day, Kat didn¡¯t even bother with a reprimand.


    ¡°Were we too optimistic putting them together?¡± Laurel leaned forward to be heard over the plane¡¯s engine and the howl of the wind.


    ¡°Eh,¡± Kat replied, ¡°at least this way the rest of us don¡¯t have to go investigate every passing shrub.¡±


    ¡°This is Leander¡¯s first trip outside the city. I expect when he realizes trekking through the wilderness can be monotonous, he¡¯ll even out.¡±


    Laurel had gone back and forth several times on whether or not to bring the kids along. It had been Martin in the end that convinced her.


    ¡°I¡¯m taking the soldiers along and that¡¯s it,¡± she said.


    ¡°What? Why? A few of the kids are at a good place in their cultivation to go out and see some of the world.¡±


    ¡°No. We¡¯ll be far afield with no extra support if something goes wrong. They haven¡¯t even opened their meridians yet, they¡¯re basically still mortals.¡±


    ¡°L, come on.¡±


    ¡°No, Martin.¡±


    The man in question walked over and pulled her into a deep hug, ignoring her wriggling protests.


    ¡°Ugh, too many feelings. I¡¯m just being practical and the practical truth is that they aren¡¯t ready.¡±


    ¡°Shhhh. You¡¯re my oldest friend in the world, I consider you my sister. So hear me when I say this.


    ¡°L, I know you¡¯re scared. You blame yourself for Borin¡¯s death and I hate that you went through that alone. But you¡¯re letting fear of that happening again stunt the growth of the living sect members we have now.


    ¡°Experiences are important in shaping a world view to fuel a cultivation journey. Take Leander and Rebecca. They¡¯ll be opening their meridians soon and they¡¯ve both never even been outside of the city, they¡¯ve barely ever even left the slums. It will be good for them, and there is not a shadow of doubt in my mind that you¡¯ll bring them home safe.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    He released her from the hug. ¡°Good. Now let¡¯s go spar a bit to wash off the emotions, yeah?¡±


    Flashbacks of Borin, killed the moment he was out of her sight, still plagued her when she sat alone for too long. But Martin was correct. The kids needed the chance to see the world, and a squad of soldiers and one master cultivator was more safety than most had when they left home for the first time.


    The day continued without any surprises as they flew further south. She watched as the clear blue of the sky was painted in orange and pink and gold. When the sun kissed the horizon, the pilots found a clearing on the side of the road to set down. The soldiers immediately got to work setting up camp, having been trained for wilderness campaigns. Rebecca and Leander, on the other hand, were city rats to their cores; they stood awkwardly looking at Laurel for directions.


    ¡°First night you two. You need fire, water, and somewhere to sleep. You have the packs Annette and Esther made for you right, and the tent?¡± The two novices hefted the large packs. ¡°Get to it then.¡±


    ¡°Umm Laurel?¡± Rebecca was still a little nervous whenever she asked questions, though Laurel had seen her chatting readily enough with the other novices. ¡°Don¡¯t you have fire and water crystals?¡±


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    Laurel thought back to the training she¡¯d received so many years ago. Sadistic masters forcing her into obscure, useless classes were interspersed with tedious, difficult, occasionally life-threatening tasks. On one notable occasion, she and her friends had been lured into the mountains with the promise of combat training and were instead abandoned and told to make their way home. She had never truly understood her teachers, not until this exact moment.


    ¡°Yes, I have fire and water crystals. I have them because I learned how to forcibly compress and crystalize ambient mana into a focus, and then impose basic properties. An extremely useful skill, and I''d recommend picking it up. Until you do, I suggest you take a look at how the soldiers are gathering snow and branches. Then we¡¯ll move on to how to start a fire. You¡¯re lucky. Annette¡¯s a modern girl and I¡¯m sure she packed matches and not flint.¡±


    Their faces fell further and further with every word. They trudged off after Reynard to gather any dry wood they could find. Turning back to the clearing next to the planes, Laurel directed a gust of wind to sweep most of the snow out of the way. She tossed a wink at a laughing Captain Varska as she proceeded to drop her tent from spatial storage, fully assembled. Walking in a loop around the campsite and planes, she drove a series of engraved spikes into the ground. A touch of her own mana activated the enchantments. Another set them to pull in ambient mana to fuel the effects.


    ¡°Woah, what was that?¡± Reina¡¯s head was on a swivel, on alert after passing through the perimeter.


    ¡°Weak barrier formation¡± Laurel called from where she was putting the last spike in the ground. ¡°Won¡¯t keep anything out, but spirit beasts will be encouraged to leave us alone. And if anything does come too close, we¡¯ll have a warning.¡±


    ¡°How many of those gadgets are you carrying around?¡± Kat once again displaying her mastery of the ability to snark while holding a lit cigar between her teeth.


    ¡°Quite a few,¡± Laurel said. ¡°I grabbed whatever would be useful on an extended stay in the wilds. After all, why work so hard if you don¡¯t get to live with some extravagance?¡±


    The novices reappeared, arms full of dead wood as they stumbled back into camp. Reynard kindly took them under his wing and demonstrated how to build a fire and get a camp stew boiling away. They gathered around the fire, sitting on camp chairs the soldiers and Laurel had brought for the purpose. When she spied Leander making a face at the soup Laurel was rocked by peals of laughter.


    ¡°Remember to pick up something nice for Esther while we¡¯re on our adventure,¡± she said as she nudged him with her foot.


    After eating and cleaning up, another task the kids were dismayed fell to them, Laurel pulled out a low table, a sheaf of maps and an engraved silver orb the size of a large grapefruit. She tossed it up a few feet above their heads, where it caught in the air and hovered. It emitted a faint blue light as wisps of mana floated off and dissolved into the air. The map on top of the pile showed the entire world, though the place names were only recognizable to Laurel. Faint lines in pale green were traced throughout the entire map, not corresponding to borders, landmarks, or anything else recognizable to mortals.


    ¡°Let''s discuss routes. I have some ideas of where I want to go, but since the mana tapestry of the world has been entirely rewritten since the last time I did this, we¡¯re ultimately guessing until we get lucky.¡±


    She traced the coastal highway they were following down to the southern coast, and jumped to the continent people called Gavroz nowadays, continuing a ways inland until her finger hovered over a mountain range. ¡°The Floating City of Caer¡¯Listara.¡± Her finger journeyed further south and east. ¡°The jungle, and then the Hashran Dunes¡±. Her route hopped back across the sea into the modern nation of Somorin, southeast of Merista. ¡°The islands in the archipelago, nothing fancy but areas that team with life are usually good options.¡± She looped back up through the eastern deserts and back into Merista. ¡°The deep mines of the eastern mountains.¡±


    ¡°Some areas that were natural treasure troves in the past, and might still be today. There are lots of others, but these were such deep mana wells I think we¡¯d have the best chance of finding something.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you just say the old places aren¡¯t reliable? Wouldn¡¯t it make more sense to look closer to home?¡± Reina was tracing over the proposed route Laurel had outlined. ¡°This will take half a year, maybe more.¡±


    ¡°We could. And I¡¯m willing to listen to wisdom if everyone agrees that¡¯s best, but I worked this out with Martin and Adam and the reasoning is sound. With me along, this is one of the best protected and capable groups that will be doing this kind of harvesting. We can afford to take the risk, and some of these locations will have treasures harder to find at home.¡±


    ¡°Modest,¡± Varska said, smiling to take the bite out of the rebuke. Laurel shrugged, it was true.


    ¡°Second, we are basically flying blind.¡± She pointed at the sphere still bobbing gently overhead. ¡°That thing is mapping the local mana flows. The ability to store three-dimensional spatial information like that was a cornerstone of my sect, and we can take advantage of it. It¡¯s possible to pull some of the same information from the City Core network when it¡¯s functioning, which it very much isn¡¯t.


    ¡°Lastly, natural treasures can rejuvenate if they¡¯ve been harvested properly, but that still takes some time. If we find things further afield, we can let others harvest closer to home. We¡¯re lucky, the massive influx in mana over the last few years is the only reason I¡¯m confident we¡¯ll be able to find so many on one trip.¡±


    The pilots had been focusing on Laurel¡¯s route. Kat had pulled out her own world map, this one with modern countries and air currents noted.


    ¡°The first one should be fine. The mountain range is shared with Naxos but it''s hard to farm and only has a few active mines. They quarry the stone but shouldn¡¯t have a problem if they run into us poking around. Same thing for the desert, the people will probably just think we¡¯re lost or on a training run. Though we¡¯ll need to be very careful about any oases we run into. They do not like it when it looks like people are threatening their water.¡±


    ¡°Wow Major, we should bring you for our team on trivia night at the Rifle.¡± Trip said.


    ¡°Geography degree seemed like it would be useful for the army,¡± she said, and went back to plotting a course.


    ¡°Sounds like we¡¯re in agreement then. This lets us stop in Lanport and check on how Theresa is doing on the Core there as well.¡±


    Full darkness had fallen while they were setting up camp and Laurel glanced up at the moon and stars to try and gauge the time. There were another two hours or so before anyone would be tired enough to go to sleep. Just enough time.


    ¡°Now for the cultivators among you, let¡¯s go over how to identify a natural treasure with your spiritual senses and the common ones we¡¯ll come across.¡± A large book popped into existence from her spatial storage. Leander and Rebecca situated themselves across from her with defeated expressions. If they thought being away from the sect would put a break in lessons that hope was roundly crushed over the following hour. Laurel finally released them and sent them to cultivate, with a reminder that they¡¯d be responsible for finding a location to do any necessaries before bed, and the wilds didn¡¯t come equipped with indoor plumbing.

 Ch 46 - Adventure in Lanport

    ¡°Listen up, kids,¡± Major Kat¡¯s voice crackled through the communication stone in front of Trip. Leander leaned in closer to hear over the noise of flying. He¡¯d learned well over the last week that you did not ignore Major Kat. ¡°No clouds in the way today, so Lanport should be visible in another half hour or so. You¡¯ve officially joined the club of people who have flown from one end of the continent to the other.¡±


    Laurel¡¯s voice came through next. ¡°We¡¯ll take five days, maybe a week here to check in with Theresa and get the supplies we¡¯ll need. The fine members of the Meristan armed forces will have orders to carry out I¡¯m sure. Leander, Rebecca, we¡¯ll do lessons in the morning and then you¡¯ll have free time.¡±


    Their flock of planes continued to cruise through the air, and as the Major predicted, a city appeared on the horizon. Smaller than the Verilia, and not nearly so impressive, but he could admit it was at least brighter. The gray stone and dark woods of the capital were replaced with white stucco and tiled roofs. It was too flat to make out the richer and poorer areas, though he knew they would exist somewhere. Leander took it in quickly, as instead his attention was taken up by the construction in the vee bordered by the river delta on one side and the coast on the other. Large buildings interspersed with fields large enough for dozens of planes like theirs. Thick walls ran for several kilometers along the coastline, with towers rising above, before arcing out towards Lanport. A separate wall cut off the military area, like a narrow buffer between the city and the ocean. Leander spied cannons poking out, with ant-like figures scurrying back and forth between them. Laurel said they had free time. Would they be allowed to look at the cannons?


    Trip noticed his attention and explained. ¡°Fort Alistar. Most folks call it the Wall, even though the fort includes all this other stuff and the wall goes around the whole city. Fort Sarken may be where we train troops but this is where most of them end up. Close enough to Oudigar and Somorin in case we need a lot of folks ready to react. And where most of the fleet calls home port. This was where me and the Major were stationed before we got called back up to the capital.¡±


    The soldiers kept up a lively conversation about the best places to visit in the city, interspersed with tales of the pranks played on anyone new to the fort. Leander absorbed it all and tried to memorize the places to visit. He would convince Rebecca to have an adventure on their own! Something incredible Adam would have to write down for the sect. And maybe get something good for Esther.


    *******


    ¡°Hey, give that back!¡± The shout echoed out of an alleyway as Leander and Rebecca wandered by. They paused and looked at each other.


    ¡°We both know how the streets work.¡± Rebecca muttered, though she had stopped walking and was looking between him and the alley. ¡°If it''s not your business you don¡¯t get involved.¡± She fiddled with the side of her dress, where Leander knew she had sewn a slit for a knife. They made eye contact again and started together towards the other side of the street. Rules don¡¯t apply to cultivators.


    When they got to the mouth of the alley, they saw three teenagers with their backs to them, intimidating a pair of younger kids, one of whom was on the ground. Next to him Rebecca took one of the stances Martin had taught them and Leander hastily followed suit.


    ¡°Leave them alone!¡± Rebecca was normally quiet enough but when Leander peeked to the side to make sure his stance was right he saw more rage on her face than he knew she was capable of.


    The teens turned and paused. The middle one let out a honking laugh. ¡°A girl and a little kid? I don¡¯t know what you think ¨C¡±


    Rebecca flew into motion and launched a kick at the speaker¡¯s stomach. He doubled over coughing and moaning. Before his friends could jump in she¡¯d pulled the knife and was pointing it towards them. The nervous gestures she usually made were absent as the knife stayed rock steady.


    ¡°Get out of here.¡±


    They ran.


    After a few seconds stuck in his battle stance, to make sure they were really gone, Leander turned to Rebecca and extended his hand for a high five. That was awesome, way better than his fight with the owl. At least, the actual fight and not what he¡¯d told everyone happened at dinner. She slapped her hand against his with a grin when whimpering came from deeper in the alley.


    They turned to see the children they had saved looking terrified and crying. The one that fell was sitting up now, hunched over his knees and rocking back and forth while his friend patted his back. ¡°You can have it Miss, just please let us go too.¡±


    Rebecca tilted her head then her eyes went wide. ¡°We stepped in to help you!  Not to take your stuff. We heard those other kids when we were out on the street.¡±


    The speaker of the two stood up and tried to wipe his eyes without being too obvious about it. ¡°Thanks for the help, but we were doing fine.¡± Leander looked around the alley, grimy, with a pile of trash on one side. ¡°¡®Sides, now the next time they run into us they¡¯ll take our stuff and give us a wallop for being with you.¡±


    Rebecca and Leander made eye contact one more time. They¡¯d spent a lot of time together when they were the only two kids in the sect and had gotten to know each other well. Leander gave a nod.


    ¡°They won¡¯t bother you, we¡¯ll make sure of it. We¡¯re cultivators of the Eternal Archive¡±. She announced the last proudly but the boys looked confused rather than impressed.


    ¡°Okaaay, and how are you gonna do that?¡±


    ¡°Bullies only respect fear.¡± Rebecca re-sheathed her blade but her eyes stayed sharp. ¡°We¡¯ll make sure they¡¯re the ones afraid.¡±


    ******


    ¡°Watch it!¡± Kat shouted after the three teenagers running through the market. Maria laughed and pointed out another stall to Laurel.


    ¡°I love living in the capital, but nothing beats the market in Lanport. You can get anything here. Those are fresh mangosteen, we¡¯re stopping.¡±


    Laurel let herself be led. She didn¡¯t have anything to do or anywhere to be, so she¡¯d agreed when the other women invited her out for a night on the town. They made their way through the bustling market and then into one of the outlying areas when the sun went down. Not a slum like the Flats, but definitely a neighborhood that had seen some wear and tear.


    ¡°Follow me.¡± Kat was puffing on another cigar and walked through a maze of dark alleys, unconcerned. Laurel followed with a bemused expression. Being strong enough to break through walls made a dark alley at night a lot less eerie than it would have been otherwise. Though she was slightly worried for sanity in the army if a dark alley was the senior officer¡¯s idea of a night out. Maria was bouncing up and down, fully aware of their end destination and eager to arrive. The alley ended in a wooden door, banded with studded iron, a small window with a latch was carved out at eye height, which Kat rapped on in a strange pattern.


    Laurel kept the laughter inside when the window was opened and a grunted ¡°password¡± spat out.


    ¡°Password is ¡®let me in jackass¡¯¡± Kat said.


    ¡°Stars above Donahue, would the world end if you played along just once?¡±


    ¡°Who knows? But why risk it?¡±


    A deep sigh and the small window snapped shut, followed by the click of three locks, then the door swung open. The trio filed inside, past a large man with a pinched face sitting on a stool with the day¡¯s local paper folded under his arm. He would barely look at Kat and gestured them back with a defeated air. Their journey continued down a narrow hall, paneled in light wood and well-lit with evenly spaced lanterns. Contrasting the aesthetic of the back alley exterior, the color lent an airiness to the low-ceilinged passage, and the smells of incense and alcohol permeated the space. A long flight of stairs down and they faced another closed door. This one opened without any input from them, and they stepped inside.


    A wall of raucous noise hit them as they stepped across the threshold. Laurel glanced back and noted some crudely curved runes for keeping the noise from traveling. They stood on a balcony overlooking a wide room, support pillars breaking up the space into smaller areas. Some contained tables where games of cards were being hotly debated and gambled upon. Others had groups of dancers or comfortable seating. A gleaming bar lined the left side of the room, bartenders slinging drinks across as fast as they could make them into waiting arms. A band played low music on the opposite wall, masking any single conversation from eavesdroppers.


    ¡°Kat, you¡¯ve outdone yourself,¡± Laurel said, grinning as she surveyed the playground.


    ¡°Not so fast, L.¡± The pilot signalled the doorman and hopped up on the wide banister railing.


    ¡°Fresh blood!¡± the shout echoed out through the rest of the room. As one, the horde turned towards the door. Laurel gave a little wave and cheering erupted. They descended onto the floor where an elegant woman in a floor-length blue dress met them.


    ¡°Kat Donahue as I live and breathe, and Maria Varska. Should I be terrified that you two are showing up with a new member for our little group?¡±


    ¡°This is Laurel Stormblade, and I think she¡¯ll fit right in,¡± Kat said.


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    The woman raised a single eyebrow. ¡°Then right this way, the initiation will be set up by the time we get there.


    ¡°Now, knowing these two, they didn¡¯t tell you anything. My name is Violet, and you are in the Moonrise Cascade, the best drinks club in Lanport, and all of Merista.¡± The nearby patrons put up another cheer at the pronouncement. Laurel followed along, keeping track of the crowd growing behind them as they neared the back of the room.


    ¡°But of course, we can¡¯t let just anyone in. We have standards.¡± More laughter and cheers.


    ¡°As long as you aren¡¯t about to make me pick out the perfect ink and embossed paper for the occasion, I think we¡¯ll be just fine.¡±


    Maria snorted at her attempt at a joke. ¡°Nah none of that stuff here. Maybe when you join a club for nobles.¡±


    They had reached the back area of the room, not fully visible from the original balcony. Oil lamps suffused the area with a warm glow, and shafts of moonlight from cleverly concealed skylights and mirrors added to the mystique of the evening. What felt like every other patron crowded across the wide room behind them, carefully staying behind the last line of pillars. There were tables set out at intervals with a confusing array of items on them. The first had a tiny wrinkled pepper, it must have been a while since any new members showed up. The next had a flute, and the third was bare, but had a barrel filled with water sitting next to it.


    ¡°It¡¯s a simple test really. First, you drink this.¡± Perfectly timed, another employee appeared next to Violet, holding a tray with a single glass. Inside was a drink the color of lightning. Laurel could smell it from a meter away. Potent. ¡°Next, eat the pepper, and drink the yellow.¡± Another server with a tray, this time a canary yellow cocktail shimmered in the lamplight.  ¡°Play a note on the flute, drink the red, and put out the flame before the fuse reaches the end.¡± Another perfectly choreographed moment where  one server held up a red drink, while another lit a fuse lining the back wall, starting a slow march from left to right, another five meters away. ¡°Without going in front of the tables, of course.¡±


    The hoots and cheers were riotous now that the game was explained. Make a fool of yourself by getting drunk and splashing water across the room. This was great. Setting up a sect was important, and games of byd or reading was enjoyable, but this was the most down and out fun she¡¯d seen since arriving in the country. And Laurel Stormblade did not back down from a challenge.


    ¡°You¡¯re on.¡±


    She grabbed the blue drink and tossed it back. Some sort of fruity thing to start but a horrifically bitter aftertaste that lingered as she ran to the first table. It took two chews before the taste of the pepper registered.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± She forced herself to swallow it. At least her taste buds would be destroyed enough not to care about the next two drinks. Heightened senses were not always a boon. ¡°What the fuck is that?¡±  Laurel could hear the laughter but put it to the back of her mind.


    The yellow drink did nothing for the burn. If anything, it felt like the alcohol pushed it further down her throat. She panted over to the table and grabbed the flute. The devious nature of the challenges revealed itself. Hard to blow a wind instrument when your mouth is on fire and your eyes are watering. Pursing her lips, she gave it her best shot, and a harsh whine came out the other end. Good enough.


    The red drink was more mellow, with some sort of floral flavor playing pleasantly across her tongue. Or maybe she thought that because her mouth refused to tell her anything more specific. The fuse was two thirds gone when she reached the final table. Her mana churned and she was a moment away from using it to fling water from the barrel at the wall when she pulled back. The others had conquered this without magic. So could she. An about face showed a wall of writhing people behind her, shouting encouragement. But what she needed was right there.


    She ran up to the nearest person with a belt knife and pulled it out before they could realize what was happening. Spinning, she flung it across the distance where it landed in the wooden wall with a gentle thud. The fuse severed and the fire winked out.


    A beat of silence, and then the crowd roared.


    ¡°Welcome to the Moonrise Cascade, dear, enjoy.¡± Violet melted back as the crowd surged forward. Kat and Maria found her and whisked her off to the bar.


    ¡°Okay the most important thing about the Moonrise is that on your first night, you drink for free, and so do the people that introduced you,¡± Maria said. ¡°If you don¡¯t wake up hungover tomorrow, you¡¯re doing it wrong.¡±


    ¡°I doubt you have anything that can get me hungover but let¡¯s see what you have that can override that godawful pepper.¡±


    ¡°Challenge accepted.¡±


    ******


    Rebecca and Leander crouched with their new friends on a roof overlooking another dirty alley, this time one that wedged along a section of the wall furthest from the ocean. Jeb and Artie, the boys they had saved, had known a lot about the thugs stealing from them. They used to be part of the same gang, working odd jobs in some of the market districts. Then Gern had hit a growth spurt and ousted some of the others, pushing them further into the poorer districts to make it easier for Gern and his cronies to get the good jobs.


    Now they watched as Gern lounged in his hideout. They had been watching for hours. Leander was so bored, but Rebecca had the same gleam in her eye from yesterday so when she said they needed to watch, he listened. But it was the same nonsense over and over. There were at least a half a dozen of the same kind of guy he could name in Verilia, and that was only in the area of the Flats he spent the most time in. Rebecca was his friend, so he stayed. Martin and Laurel had learned to cultivate together and now they helped each other a million years later. If he was very lucky, he would have that with Rebecca.


    ********


    Theresa poured tea as she and Laurel sat on the balcony of the city lord¡¯s manor. Not as opulent as the King¡¯s palace, but far more pleasant than the meeting rooms they¡¯d used at Fort Sarken. The women relaxed, reveling in the silence while looking out over the Wall at the dark plane of the ocean, the sun rising behind them.


    ¡°Tell me.¡± Laurel said.


    ¡°It''s been harder than I expected.¡± Theresa leaned back and closed her eyes. Laurel noted the dark circles that had grown in the month since Theresa had come to Lanport.


    ¡°It¡¯s working, I can tell that without any effort. The ambient mana is much calmer than a city this size would generate otherwise.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, I¡¯m just complaining.¡± She opened her eyes again and smiled at Laurel. ¡°I¡¯m happy you¡¯re here though, I think it''s time to manifest the interface and I could use some backup. ¡°


    ¡°Where are you putting it, the manor, or the army headquarters?¡±


    ¡°Over in a secure bunker in the Wall. Edward wants to keep the nobles or anyone without a high level of loyalty from deciding they should have their own magically enforced city-state.¡±


    ¡°Not uncommon. In the past a ruler would allow sects to live and cultivate in large population centers in exchange for their defense of the same. It wasn¡¯t exactly uncommon for those cultivators to question why they needed a ruler at all. Of course royals in those times were often  powerful cultivators, which made rebellion a different prospect.¡±


    Both women sipped their tea in silence.


    ¡°Are you going to step in on your novice¡¯s little adventure?¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll let it play out for now.¡±


    ********


    ¡°Is everybody ready?¡± Rebecca stood next to Leander as she addressed their troops for the day. Jeb and Artie were standing in front, hard looks in their eyes. Behind them were a ragtag collection of teens and younger kids, all pushed out by Gern¡¯s bullying. Leander pulled at his tunic. Annette had insisted they pack one nice outfit, and Rebecca had forced him into it this morning over his protests. He didn¡¯t see why it would matter so much, street toughs don¡¯t care about fancy clothes.


    He refocused on  Rebecca¡¯s instructions.


    ¡°.... then on the emerald signal you need to pour out the bottles¡­¡±. They had gone over this so many times in the last two days he could recite the plan in his sleep. His dreams last night had actually involved being forced to juggle the props that now filled the pack he was carrying.


    ¡°...He will never bother you again.¡± Rebecca finished talking to the muted ¡®yeah¡¯s and ¡®alright¡¯s of the locals. Finally, they could get started.


    They split off into groups of two and three to make their way to Gern¡¯s lair. This had been his own contribution to the plan, to avoid the attention of guards that might be concerned by a crowd of angry kids stomping through the streets. Through alleys and the occasional tunnel, they crept closer until they reached the hideout. It wasn¡¯t much, an empty courtyard in a poor area of the city. The smell said no one bothered cleaning it either. Rebecca¡¯s sharp hand gestures put everyone into position as they waited for the sun to sink the last inches past the horizon, throwing the city into dusk.


    When she judged the time was right, Rebecca stepped forward while muttering a quick ¡°pearl¡±.


    Three of the smaller kids held up thin sheets of metal he and Rebecca had borrowed from the army, and began to shake them around. Leander had been impressed when one of the locals had suggested it, picking up the trick from hanging out the back of a theater with nice actors. If he didn¡¯t see it happening he might actually believe a thunderstorm was rolling in.


    ¡°Emerald!¡± came a hiss from a few meters ahead. He rushed to catch up. Two more kids stationed slightly further along opened vials of something Rebecca had found at the fort. Not so much borrowed as ¡®secretly donated to the common good¡¯. Thick gray smoke began spilling out, infusing the air with the sharp smell that came after lightning, and a foul aftertaste if you opened your mouth at the wrong time. He and Rebecca walked the last steps forward as she gave one final command.  ¡°Ruby¡±.


    Glow stones, packed by Annette in their supplies, lit up behind them, adding to the creepy effect. They crossed over into the small hideout to see Gern and some of his cronies on their feet. Some had picked up sticks or cudgels but their hands shook and their eyes were darting everywhere, trying to pierce the smoke.


    ¡°Stop!¡± Rebecca¡¯s normally gentle expression was nowhere to be seen. She had added some sort of makeup to her face and even Leander had been a little frightened when he first saw it.


    ¡°Gern of Lanport. Your foul deeds have reached the ears of the Coven of the Mountains. Betraying those close to you, stealing from the weak, hurting those who cannot protect themselves. We have judged and found you wanting.¡± She started a slow glide forward. Leander¡¯s job was to block the exit. He crossed his arms and puffed up his chest, attempting to look imposing in the fancy outfit.


    She came to a stop barely a meter in front of Gern. His closest allies shrank back, pressing themselves against the wall and looking as small and helpless as they could.


    ¡°This is your one chance. Do better, or the next time one of my order steps foot in Lanport, will be the last day you draw breath.¡± On the last word of her prepared speech, Rebecca gathered all her mana and pushed. Air blasted out from her hand, hitting Gern square in the chest. The larger boy stumbled back and fell to the ground, staring up at Rebecca in horror.


    With a subtle hand gesture, their final allies released a last set of smoke vials, obscuring everything and letting Rebecca and Leander slip back down the alley, while appearing to the bullies as if they had disappeared. They hurried away, grabbing the boys who had kept the thunder effect rolling the entire confrontation, and falling back to the meeting point.


    Leander didn¡¯t even try to hide his smile. He wished they had thought of paying back every bully he¡¯d run afoul of in the Flats before leaving. But he could be content with this. He turned to share a high five with Rebecca, who was leaning against a wall, panting like she¡¯d completed a workout led by Martin. She looked upset, even though they won. The other kids they had met had no such reservations. Once they all made it back to their meetup there were rounds of cheers and hugs for the cultivators. Leander pulled out the snacks he had been given from the army fort, along with a bottle of wine he had snuck out on his own, and they had a party until it was time for them to head back. The whole time he kept watching Rebecca. She recovered her energy enough to mingle, but the smile never reached her eyes.


    ********


    Rebecca was sitting alone on a bench when Laurel found her. She sat down as well, looking out on the practice field with its perfectly clipped grass. During the day it housed drills and training, but for now it was empty except for a few soldiers sparring in their free time. They were leaving tomorrow, so it was time to have the conversation, as much as she had been dreading it. Enough wisdom had eventually trickled into her that she knew she had to let the kids fight for what they believed in, even if they made mistakes. Actually holding herself back and then sympathizing in the aftermath was another story.


    It was Rebecca that eventually broke the silence. ¡°Why didn¡¯t it feel better?¡±


    Laurel was unsure if she had ever felt so old as this moment, with a child asking her for insight. ¡°You aren¡¯t the first person to begin cultivating because they don¡¯t want to be hurt anymore. It¡¯s not a bad reason for seeking power, as these things go. You aren¡¯t the first person to want to use that power to help others. That¡¯s an even better reason, though few of us can maintain that drive. But you fell into a trap.¡±


    She glanced sideways and saw Rebecca¡¯s hands clenched in her lap so hard the knuckles were straining white.


    ¡°You intervened that first day to help those boys. But you did the rest in order to hurt this Gern character. You lost the thread of helping someone and picked up using your power to subdue someone else instead.¡± Tears were streaming down the younger girl''s face as she turned to fully look at Laurel for the first time since she sat down.


    Laurel gave a rueful smile. ¡°I¡¯m getting too poetic. It feels bad because you took it too far. You actively sought out someone to hurt, and that should be something you think hard about before doing. Not never, mind you, sometimes you have to fight. And sometimes people really deserve a punch to the face. But it should be for a reason other than hurting someone, who isn¡¯t even the person you¡¯re mad at.¡±


    She threw an arm around Rebecca¡¯s shoulder and shook gently. ¡°You¡¯re young. You made a little mistake. It will be fine.¡±


    ¡°It will be fine?¡± The girl sounded incredulous.


    ¡°Of course it will. You didn¡¯t kill anyone. And you kept the sect name out of it, nice touch there.¡±


    Rebecca broke out into a loud laugh. Laurel gave in and joined her.


    ¡°We¡¯re leaving in the morning, go get some sleep. Don¡¯t think you get out of anything just because you¡¯ve exhausted your mana either. There¡¯s a reason novice¡¯s can¡¯t support anything like a real external technique. You¡¯re lucky all you have to do tomorrow is sit and recover while the pilots do the work.¡± She shooed her sect member back inside and joined her in their final preparations. The real journey would begin tomorrow.

 Ch 47 - Back on the Farm

    Martin dodged around the corner. Footsteps echoed off the stone of the hall as he hurried around the next bend, staying ahead and out of sight.


    ¡°Back! Back!¡± One of the new students ¨C Sandra or Sasha, no Sarah - Sarah had appeared from a workroom. He hustled her back inside and closed the door gently as possible. He pressed his ear against it and heard the sharp click of Annette¡¯s shoes getting ever closer. An alarmed Sarah went to say something but he put a finger to his lips, pleading for silence. The steps came closer and closer. His consciousness merged into the stone, he could feel each of the small impacts vibrate through his entire being.They came to a stop right outside the door he was still leaning against. He sent a winning smile at Sarah.


    ¡°Alas, the game¡¯s up.¡± He opened the door, smile still in place. ¡°Annette, darling! I haven¡¯t seen you in ages.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, yes I wonder why that is. You would never avoid me, would you Martin.¡± The glint in her eye let Martin know there was a correct answer to that question. He¡¯d long learned the lesson of choosing battles with care.


    ¡°Of course not, you know I look forward to our chats.¡±


    Her eyes narrowed impossibly further, there was no way she could actually see him right? She thrust out a sheet of paper. Martin took hold of it, absently noting the quality that Annette insisted on in all of the stationary they were forced to use.


    Clearing his throat he began to read. ¡°Let¡¯s see,


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">A meeting with the King¡¯s Council to discuss sect contributions to the government and how the service should be reflected in our taxes. Hmm, you should probably do that one. Quartermaster and all that.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">A petition for access to the library. No wait, make that four separate petitions for the library. Well we can send those to Adam, wouldn¡¯t want to ruin his fun.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Interview with a paper, that¡¯s you.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Healing hours. Fine. I guess, but no more than a couple.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Clearing out smaller spirit beasts, have the kids do that they need some real experience anyway. No one is going to die from a magic rabbit or whatever.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Oh, a meeting with some merchant¡¯s. Also you. </li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">More lessons for the novices, I guess we can kick that one over to Adam as well. </li>


    </ul>


    And, yeah, that looks like everything. Here you go.¡±


    He put on his most charming smile to hand the paper back to Annette. No expression, and she didn¡¯t move a muscle to take it back. Slowly, without breaking eye contact, her hand went to a rolled up scrap of paper tucked into her belt. Unfurled, it was a full sheet, and he could see writing covering the entire front and half the back.


    ¡°This,¡± she said, turning it to face him. ¡°This is my list for the week.¡± Martin recoiled. He hadn¡¯t realized quite so much was falling on her shoulders.


    ¡°Adam has taken on organizing the education of the students, outside of their basic cultivation training. Those are the petitions for library use that he has determined need to be a bit more forcefully declined. So Martin, believe me when I swear on all the stars above, you will complete that list.¡±


    ¡°Of course Annette.¡± He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. ¡°I¡¯ll get started now.¡± After all, he¡¯d also learned when to concede with grace; or at least he had after a childhood of Laurel and Imelda beating it into him.


    *******


    Council meetings were designed to be as boring as possible, Martin was sure of it. He¡¯d shown up at the right time, and been led to a dull conference room in the palace. Why these meetings had to be held in the plainest possible room he wasn¡¯t sure. A comfortable chair would have gone a long way towards forgiveness for the boredom, but none was provided. The glare from General Mansfeln when he brought out his own seat was icing on the cake. Instead of getting right down to sect business, they had spent eons discussing everything from the local economy to training schedules for the newest army recruits. He was leaning back in his chair, contemplating what kind of excuse he could use to slip away when he heard his name for the first time in an hour.


    ¡°Would that be acceptable Martin?¡± The stern-faced Madam Curson was looking at him expectantly, along with the entire council. Fuck. Laurel was not going to be happy if she came back and the rapport she had built with everyone was gone. And scarier, Annette would force him to fix it.


    ¡°That sounds satisfactory, yes.¡± Luckily he was at least much better at faking his way through charm than Laurel was.


    ¡°Excellent, I¡¯ll mark the first hospital to be reinforced with mana next week. Now onto our next topic, magical defenses. Acting Sectmaster Martin, could you elaborate on the possibilities?¡±


    ¡°Laurel explained the natural treasures thing, right?¡± They all murmured agreement and General Mansfeln motioned at him to continue. ¡°Embedding them into the major mana flows lets us use the ambient mana, aspected by the treasure, to generate an effect. So the defense options we have will depend on what they find.


    ¡°Air might let us make a wind shield, or generate wind blades from the cliffs. Fire would probably let us absorb high energy attacks. The best option would be some combination of air and earth or metal. They can be combined to a strong all around shielding effect. Eventually you want to get dozens or hundreds of treasures to help defend a city this size. And that¡¯s not even including things like air and water purification or melting snow on the streets.¡±


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    General Skycrest¡¯s eyes widened at this last option. ¡°Wait clearing the streets ¨C¡±


    ¡°Yes, fascinating, but we¡¯ll need to table any true discussions until we know the resources available from what they bring back,¡± Curson said.


    Martin respected a woman on a schedule but he knew enough about politicking to not let that lie. He cleared his throat pointedly.


    Madam Curson let out a small huff and amended. ¡°Those resources, of course, that the Eternal Archive chooses to use for the common good, rather than hoarding themselves.¡± He would let that one slide, as she wasn¡¯t entirely wrong. Though of course strong cultivators to defend the city was also for the common good. Stars, Laurel had just left and he already couldn¡¯t wait for her to get back.


    *******


    Martin had spent some time exploring the city in his quest to evade any new responsibilities. As such, he recognized that the ¡®literary society¡¯ Annette had put on his list was on his way home. Instead of taking a cab or a relaxing stroll straight down to the sect house, he made his way into one of the wealthier districts. Not so high up the hill that it encroached on the manor houses of the nobles, but still far above the squalor of the Flats. The kind of place that needed to shout to the world how wealthy the inhabitants were. He made his way to the door, deep wood topped with an embossed copper plaque announcing the ¡®Meristan Society for the Preservation of Culture¡¯. A knock and flashing the embroidered insignia on his official outfit and he was quickly ushered into a sitting room. Dark wood lined the walls enclosing a collection of men and women, none under forty years or thereabouts, were scattered around on settees upholstered in rich velvets, tiny glasses of a syrupy red wine being passed around.


    Silence had descended when he walked in, but Martin was not one to eschew attention. Definitely not for the most exciting chore on the list. ¡°Why good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for welcoming me into your charming salon.¡± A muttering had started up, but he could pick out the sect name and figured it was fine. ¡°Now may I ask, if Madam Zara Rence and Mister Gregory Haxin are present?¡±


    ¡°That is Dr. Gregory Haxin, thank you sir.¡± A smaller man with a formidable mustache stood up from where he had been in discussion with a matron clad in a deep purple gown. ¡°I am joined by Madam Rence. What can we do for you.¡±


    Martin pulled out a piece of paper with a flourish from his spatial tattoo. ¡°You two petitioned the Eternal Archive for ¨C and I have the document here so I will read directly ¨C ¡®sole access to collections of ancient myths, legends, and fiction¡¯. Is that correct?¡±


    The muttering got louder. Several distinct voices echoed ¡°sole access¡± loudly enough to be heard. He let it build, he was here to put on a show, after all.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid, the tenets of our sect do not allow for granting exclusive access to such works to non members, and as such we are unable to honor your request. We would not wish to block any of your esteemed colleagues from their own petitions.¡± The anger in the room was almost at a full boil, and Martin decided to slip out before it spilled over and splashed onto him or the sect.


    ¡°Have a good evening.¡± He left as quickly as he could without giving the appearance of haste. One down, three to go. Before the front door closed he heard the fight begin.


    ¡°I swear Greg this is the last straw on your membership¡±


    ********


    Annette returned to her office after tracking Martin down. The stern expression stayed on her face until the door firmly closed behind her. Secure in her solitude, a chuckle and grin slipped out. It hadn¡¯t been long, but she had realized early on that the man had a gift for lightening everyone¡¯s mood, and the wisdom to apply the skill with absolute precision. Crossing to her window seat, she pulled out her notebook and got comfortable amongst the cushions. The light was perfect for morning work, gentle enough not to strain her eyes but bright enough to see by without using any of the glow stones. Even better, she had a view out over the city. Over the slums, past the middle districts where she was born and raised, all the way up to the rich areas clustered like grapes around the top of the hill, crowned by the palace. Annette had no ambition to rule, or tear down her country¡¯s culture, but by the time she was done, she vowed they would be a force to be reckoned with, and not only for the magical powers.


    She opened her notebook and crossed out ¡®Martin¡¯ from the top of her list with great relish. A quick review of everyone else¡¯s chores confirmed they were all in order. She spent a pleasant hour reading the papers for anything they might need to be aware of, or any mention of the sect. A few letters dashed off to various guilds and a few artisans looking to sell to the sect and it was time to head out for the day. Before leaving she gathered the two dozen identical folded sheets of paper and stopped by a nook outside her door. A neat grid of cubby-holes lined the back, carved into the stone from waist to shoulder height, with room for plenty more. Elegant calligraphy revealed a slot for all the members of the sect. Each received a list, much like Martin¡¯s, excepting those members currently gallivanting around the world. No one else was bold enough to require being hunted down by Annette to assign their weekly tasks.


    A detour into the library showed Adam, in his customary position, bent over a carefully propped up book, wearing thin gloves and meticulously translating amidst a sea of reference materials.


    ¡°I¡¯m off, you¡¯re in charge while I¡¯m away,¡± she told him. He grunted in reply. ¡°Oh, and I gave Martin that list of applicants you said could use some more forceful discussion.¡± That got his attention.


    ¡°Oh? Well, I suppose if someone finds a murdered den of pompous old windbags we¡¯ll know it worked.¡± Annette rolled her eyes and continued out.


    *********


    Mr. Grimley bounced out of his chair as Annette was shown into his office. It was exactly what she expected of the man. Loud, clashing colors filled every surface. Two paintings adorned the walls, both by fashionable artists. One was a classical landscape, the other an abstract riot of yellow splotches in different hues. The contrast made her eyes ache. It was not a tasteful room, and Annette knew the gentry would call it tacky or gauche. But it matched the man. Wrappings that were designed to distract and impress, all of the highest quality, but thrown together without harmony. A shrewd investor and businessman lived beneath the extravagant outfits, and she would not be thrown off by the costume.


    ¡°Thank you for meeting me here, my dear, I do appreciate it.¡± Said with a smile, Annette knew it for the subtle reminder that he was in a position with leverage over the sect.


    ¡°Not at all¡± she waved off his thanks. ¡°Tell me, how is your wife?¡± He took this as an invitation and launched into a five minute explanation of his wife, his small child, and the perfectly curated charming anecdote that had happened ¡®last week¡¯.


    ¡°But forget all that. Let¡¯s get down to business before I¡¯m too off track.¡± he said.


    ¡°Yes, let''s.¡±


    ¡°Ten percent of profit, from any product sold by your organization for the next ten years. I¡¯ve taken quite a risk on my end, burned a few bridges in the guild, so I hope you know how interested I am in seeing it pay off.¡±


    Annette sipped her tea while formulating a response. ¡°I¡¯m very confident your risk will pay off enough to make the rest of your fellow guildsmen jealous. Though, I hope with such a risk on your part you will do everything to see it succeed.¡±


    The merchant leaned back and gave Annette an appraising look. Without changing anything about his appearance or position, the amiable but slightly oafish man melted away and she was sitting across from the youngest Merchant¡¯s Guild council member in living memory.


    ¡°You¡¯re a canny one. Let¡¯s dispense with the game and be direct. I look at this as a potential investment. Maybe not of capital but of reputation. I want to know when I will start seeing a return.¡±


    ¡°We have several students almost to the stage of producing sellable goods.¡± Or they would, once she assigned Martin to make some and teach the others. And of course when the rest of them burned their mana channels into their body production could skyrocket.


    ¡°In the interest of respecting your own forthrightness, I will return the favor. We are not running a factory, and we never will be. Therefore we will never produce enough to flood the market. Enchanted home goods need to be seen as a status symbol, to keep the price profitable. As a member of the social elite, your efforts as such will be appreciated.¡±


    They stared each other down in silence for several moments.


    ¡°Ha¡± he barked out a laugh. ¡°I see we understand each other. So we have a deal.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Annette said, ¡°we do.¡±

 Ch 48 - Foreign Shores

    The ocean was a flat plane beneath them, looking for all the world like a portal into some dark realm. Not a whisper of wind or a sound to be heard beyond what racket the planes were making. Laurel watched it pass beneath her, alternating between keeping a lookout for ships and staring off towards the horizon. This leg of their journey was equal parts tedious and nerve-wracking. With nothing to do or see, even the ever-inquisitive Leander was looking listless, slumped as he was behind Trip. But underneath the boredom was the constant reminder that if something went wrong, they were stranded in the truest sense of the word. Laurel could fly, and she had a small catamaran in storage they would probably all fit on. The others didn¡¯t have such assurances, and had sniped at each other all morning until Kat had barked across the comm stones that  there would be no more speaking allowed.


    For Laurel, the danger was tinged with luxury. It was the perfect opportunity to expand her spiritual sense, free of all the noise of the city. The prominence of lead, pure or in alloys,  meant parts of any modern city were blurry to her spirit. If she tried to push her perception out to cover all of Lanport in any sort of detail, the headaches would have been debilitating. The capital was a little better, if she leveraged her connection to the Core, but still not perfect. The planes were lead-free and the ocean and open sky were a pleasant tapestry of life and magic for kilometers around to her unencumbered senses. Her mind wandered far into a future version of Verilia, when she could use the glut of excess ambient mana to neutralize the lead through careful infusion. But that would remain a dream until they had secured the region against spirit beasts the size of battleships.


    Her observations revealed a telltale shoal of mana signatures approaching from the north. Laurel focused her attention until she could pick out the individuals within the pod.


    ¡°Kat, I think you¡¯ll want to break the no-talking rule for this. Look about three kilometers north-northwest.¡±


    ¡°Hostiles?¡± The normally relaxed woman went tense scanning the surroundings.


    ¡°No,no. There¡¯s a pod of uralons approaching from that direction. They¡¯re harmless, but also adorable.¡±


    ¡°Okay everyone listen up. There is a passel of adorable animals off to our right. Our fearless leader suggests you take note.¡±


    A squeal echoed out from Rebecca and Reina simultaneously as they spotted the creatures. Mottled green flippers guided round bodies set on the surface of the ocean. Large eyes stuck out on either side of their heads as the small pod swam by in the distance. Occasionally some of the uralons floated a few feet above the water, moving their flippers as though swimming and still moving forward. The whole expedition watched the harmless critters until they reached an area of the sea entirely indistinguishable from any other. They paused and sank in unison.


    ¡°Aww, where¡¯d they go?¡± Rebecca was half out of her plane, staring at the place the beasts had disappeared.


    Laurel was thinking the same thing and she focused on the area, this time pushing her senses far below the surface. She felt the sea floor, two kilometers down, with a thriving ecosystem in place. The uralons reappeared to her senses, sinking towards a dense pocket of mana on the ocean floor. Small specks of concentrated mana had to be a horde of something, though she was too far away to identify it. Martin might have been able to, but she was far more familiar with beasts of the air than the water.


    ¡°There¡¯s something down there. Potentially one of the treasures we¡¯re after.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s great Laurel. But unless you¡¯re looking to drop a grenade and hope for the best, I don¡¯t see what we¡¯re going to do about it.¡± Maria merrily chimed in from her accustomed lounging position behind her pilot. The anxiety of a long flight over open ocean hadn¡¯t phased the special forces soldier for a moment.


    Looking out over her company, Laurel tried to decide the best way forward. Before she could say anything, Kat leaned forward and covered the comm stone.


    ¡°It¡¯s a long flight to cross this passage as is. We can¡¯t circle around while you go off on an adventure without wasting time, and wearing down the fliers. As it is, we barely have enough time to get to the shore before dark.¡±


    Laurel patted the major¡¯s shoulder to show her understanding. ¡°How about you all go on ahead, and I¡¯ll catch up. I¡¯m not sensing anything too dangerous, and I¡¯ll be able to go down there.¡± Kat chose not to comment on this, leaving Laurel a tad miffed. No surprise to hearing she could breathe underwater? Really?


    Instead the placid pilot opened the communication back up and issued orders. ¡°Listen up people. Laurel¡¯s going to go have a look and the rest of us are continuing towards Gavroz¡±.


    When no more information was forthcoming, Laurel dove off the side of the plane. In the time it took her to reach the water she had increased the mana circulation to her lungs and nose, focusing on her understanding of air. All around her, all around everything, even underwater, there was air. And where there was air, she could breathe. She barely checked her momentum before hitting the water feet first and plummeting into the depths.


    The last time she¡¯d hunted the sea floor she had been decades younger and leagues weaker. Careful adjustment to the pressure and focus on pulling the air out of the water had been necessary to survive. Now she wasted no time. Reaching out to the ambient mana, she controlled it, shaped it, and shot forward  through the gloom, towards the mana she sensed. A stream of bubbles trailed in her wake. Reaching into her storage, she tossed a powerful glow stone out into the water, tethering it to her with a strand of mana.


    A new world revealed itself. The remains of a shipwreck were the centerpiece of the undersea metropolis. Splintered wood stuck out everywhere at odd angles. Centuries undersea and still the ship¡¯s skeleton remained. Accompanied by many skeletons of the formerly living sort. A few whale carcasses had fallen over the years, bones forming the pathways the denizens traversed. And this was no unpopulated graveyard. Sea urchins carpeted the area. Other crustaceans mixed throughout, with a larger predator or two lurking further away. The gentle green of luminescent coral trees mixed with Laurel¡¯s blue light, painting the whole scene in a turquoise aura. She brought the mana map orb out to take an impression of the place.


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    It would have been beautiful if every one of the animals wasn¡¯t leaking death-attuned mana. It made sense. A shipwreck, whale falls, even the coral had a million dead pieces, and it was all packed together and feeding off each other. She almost wished she hadn¡¯t come down here. Even a tiny prick from one of the sea urchins would be a pain to fix if it was infected with concentrated death mana. It was only almost, however, because she felt a triangle of natural treasures anchoring the little world in place. Something water attuned off to the north, not surprising based on the location, and not worth harvesting yet. A potent death treasure in the center of the largest carcass. Useful, but not something she was willing to risk carrying around on the rest of the journey.


    To the east lay the true prize. She drifted towards it, away from the roiling mass of death. A ledge of bedrock reached out over a narrow trench. The inside was jet black, even the light from Laurel¡¯s glow stone was unable to penetrate it. With senses pushed out as far as possible, she stepped off the ledge and began to sink. Her left hand kept contact with the wall as she went deeper, always careful to keep a clear path to the open ocean. The crevasse was only a couple of meters wide, but it went another two hundred deeper into the rock.


    Her feet touched down. Eels slithered through the darkness, and some predatory fish were lying in wait for a foolish morsel to slip past. Nothing moved towards her yet. Her techniques were giving off enough power to make most animals hesitate, and these beasts were hunters of opportunity or ambush, rather than anything willing to attack outright. She stepped forward. The treasure tugged at her perception like a lodestone from a few dozen meters ahead. The darkness kept her moving slowly, inching forward one step at a time, but only a few minutes later she was in front of it.


    A jade box popped into existence from her tattoo. The enchantments, etched in gold, flared at the presence of so much mana, before becoming inert once more. Predators of the deep circled. None of these beasts was strong enough yet for anything resembling thought, but they knew something important was happening. The stranger in their midst was a threat to their home.


    The box in one hand, a silver knife in the other, she felt around the edge of the treasure, where it was anchored to the rock with tendrils of crystalized mana. Roots ensured that something with the same aspect would regrow. And quickly, down here with the other anchors and so much mana infusing everything. Slipping the knife into the juncture with the roots she sliced carefully. A puncture here would ruin the effort. When it was no longer attached and started to sink she quickly snapped the box closed around it. The inlaid symbols once more flared with light but Laurel didn¡¯t stand still to watch the seal form.


    Hurriedly she backed up a few steps and shot herself out of the trench. Picking an angle that avoided the death garden, she pushed herself away from the seabed and into the open ocean. Her glow stone was still trailing behind her. That was the only thing that allowed her to see the tentacle coming towards her and swerve out of the way. She swore, but the creativity was lost to some bubbles, trailing up to the surface.


    An octopus bigger than her was jetting back towards her after the evasion. No longer a simple animal, it had evolved into a spirit beast with enough stealth to evade her senses. She dodged again. Its next approach was more cautious. Alien eyes stared at her with a hunger for what she was carrying. Laurel took the moment to glance around. Nothing else was nearby. Better for her, though still not ideal. Underwater was not the arena most suited to her attacks. Blades were slowed, lightning diffused, and air blunted by the water.


    The octopus faced no such obstacles. When she had glanced away, it had taken the opportunity to re-camouflage itself. Even nearby it was hard to pick out in the gloom of the depths. Tentacles wove around her, attempting to trap and pull her towards its maw. A well placed dodge gave her some distance. A deep pull on her will cleared a tube of water between Laurel and her foe. Water refilled the space immediately, but not before a lightning bolt streaked through the opening. The beast seized, tentacles no longer reaching for Laurel. She pressed the advantage and jetted in close. A sword appeared in her hand and a few quick strokes later, the octopus was no more.


    The battle had attracted more predators, they circled outside the ring of light Laurel¡¯s stone produced. She efficiently harvested the core and the ink sac and returned to her ascent. The sharks could have the corpse.


    *********


    The first true breath after surfacing was the sweetest Laurel could remember in a long time. The air welcomed her home and she rose entirely out of the ocean to start flying in the direction of Gavroz and her team. When she was a sufficient distance from the mana biome, she swooped back down to the surface and dropped her small vessel. Sodden clothes went into storage, a new outfit was brought out, and the sails set to not need her active control. A brush of her mana filled them with wind and she was off.


    Twilight had descended while Laurel was underwater. The perfect setting to watch the seal finish forming. The golden light shimmered through the box as the lid fused to the sides, forming one hollow piece of jade. The boxes were the work of master enchanters from her sect, infused with spatial mana. Neither she nor Martin had the ability to craft such an object, but they had both kept a few dozen in their tattoos for chance encounters. When she decided on this trip they had taken a risk and sent her with almost their entire combined supply. It would be worth it, though, since it meant she could store it in her tattoo without ruining the usefulness for the City Core.


    But first, she pressed her mana into one of the runes on the lid and watched as it became transparent. A translucent white orb sat nestled in the jade.  More inscriptions  kept it from moving, but she could see air inside the orb swirling chaotically, a thin strand of silver battered around the bubble but never able to pierce it, or even indent the membrane. A Tension Vesicle. Because sometimes the first person to find something decides on a gross or pretentious name that everyone else is stuck with forever. Formed in areas of sustained high pressure, a rare find for a random encounter in the middle of nowhere. If she absorbed it, her sense and control of air pressure would increase to an incredible degree. Any blade formed out of air would have far more power behind it and be almost effortless to form. Or she could force the power to infuse her body, making her impossible to crush, even for other master cultivators. More importantly, it would bring her that much closer to merging her lightning and air aspects into her true goal of a storm attunement. It was so close. She had spent decades seeking out storms in her free time, meditating in mid-air to better understand the true nature of a tempest. There were no storm-attuned mana wells to seek out in her time, and progress was slow. Storms simply moved too quickly. Mana storms would be better, but those were rare and impossible to predict.


    She stared longingly at the Vesicle for a few more minutes.  No one else would know. She could tell them the treasure wasn¡¯t formed yet and everyone would believe her. Laurel envisioned lying directly to her students face and put the jade box in storage. As much of a boon as it would be for her personal cultivation, it would be even better for the city. If she combined it with more elementally-attuned treasures they could have a scythe of hardened air or water keeping the cliffs clear. Or they could have the plumbing of the city working at peak efficiency. If she still needed it she could come back in a decade and get another.


    Lying back, she used her control of air to steer the boat, and relaxed for a tranquil nighttime ride.


    It was nearing midnight when she reached the coast. An orange speck in the distance stood boldly defiant against the darkness of the untamed countryside. Laurel¡¯s catamaran angled towards the only occupied patch of beach. As the boat approached the small lagoon, it ran ashore on the shallows. Laurel popped up and sent it back into storage, gliding over to the beach and the rest of her teammates.


    Kat was sitting up awake by the fire with Maria. Trip and Reynard waved at her from where they were standing watch, keeping an eye on the hills beyond the beach. Everyone else slept on, not noticing her arrival. She saw no need to wake them. Laurel pulled the box out and waved it around before putting it away and joining the others by the fire.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t doubt you for a minute.¡± Maria stood to give her a hearty backslap and then plopped back down on the driftwood logs they had dragged in to circle the fire.


    ¡°Any trouble on your end?¡± Laurel said, joining the others.


    ¡°Nope.¡± Kat said. ¡°A few more of those bouncy turtles but nothing else. Had the kids scouting around a bit and it doesn¡¯t look like anyone else has been in the neighborhood recently. We covered the army insignia on the planes too. Not a great defense if someone sees us but it gives us deniability. Elgin and Merista are on friendly terms but we didn¡¯t exactly ask permission to be here..¡±


    They talked further into the night. Laurel found herself reveling in the familiar excitement of once more adventuring into the unknown with friends.

 Ch 49 - On The Run

    George twisted his head to check behind him. The road was empty as far as he could see, so were the plains to either side. He didn¡¯t trust it. No way would they let him go. They were out there. He kept running. The thudding pace of his feet on the road drove every thought out of his mind except his singular goal. Keep going south. Hit Fairtown in a few days. Get on a ship going somewhere else, anywhere else. Make his way to Merista. Throw himself at the mercy of people capable of defending an entire city from a legendary monster, like a children¡¯s story come to life.


    It was less than a sliver of hope, but he couldn¡¯t think of anything else to do. If he stayed in Laskar they would find him. And then, if he was lucky, he would be forced back into the imperial magehunters. If he was unlucky, well, he wouldn¡¯t be worrying for long. He ran faster. For days he moved south. When he was exhausted he slept on the side of the road in whatever shelter he could find. He stole food or ate the dried rations he¡¯d been able to scrounge together during his escape. Almost there. Another two days and he¡¯d be at Fairtown. A new name and a willingness to take whatever shit job they had would get him on a ship and out of the empire.


    He focused, not taking in the scenery and staring off into the middle distance. Despite all that, he was almost too slow when a figure rose up in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere. Just in time, he dove to the right. Tucked into a roll, he heard three shots ring out. Three meant either the last one was still hiding, or they¡¯d sent his old team after him. He thought about saying something, but why bother? It wouldn¡¯t make a difference and they would take the opportunity to gut him anyway. He came out of the roll with his guns in his hands. There was no going back after this.


    Daniel was staying back, without a doubt preparing fire bolts to roast him alive. Justin was running straight at him and Chiro was a hazy blur, circling to his left. George pushed his magic towards his eyes and ears, forcefully perceiving everything around him. A pistol in each hand, he thumbed back the hammers, raised his arms and focused on the bullets and the path he needed them to take through the air. Two shots. One bullet hit Daniel in the shoulder, but then Justin was on him. He danced back in time to avoid a slash of the dagger. Ten bullets left.


    He tried to get his guns back up to aim but Justin kept pressing, forcing him to retreat instead. George stayed at a distance with Daniel, then the others got in close to the target, that was how this worked. They were a well-oiled machine when hunting. But it made him vulnerable when he was the prey. Daniel was charging up for some attack. He could feel the magic pricking up the hairs on the back of his neck.


    His right hand came up to parry Justin, his left got another shot off at Daniel. A burst of magic went into the bullet as it left the gun. It traveled an arcing path, the magic curving it around Justin. A spray of blood told him he¡¯d hit but there was no time to take a closer look. Nine left.


    His feeling of danger spiked and he dove to the side. Chiro wavered back into view, their sword extended where George would have been standing. Their other hand held a pistol they were leveling right at George¡¯s heart. Again he funneled his magic into the guns and shot both of them. All three shots went off simultaneously. A massive amount of magic drained from George but his shots intercepted Chiro¡¯s out of the air. That was most of what he had left, he would have to rely on marksmanship for the rest of this. Seven.


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    George backpedaled frantically. If he kept Chiro in sight they wouldn¡¯t be able to disappear. But that gave Justin enough time to close back in. He got another shot off but it went wide. Six.


    George stumbled. He fell backwards and knew this was going to be the end. He wouldn¡¯t be going quietly. Two more shots went off and hit true. One took Justin in the neck. Eyes wide, he slumped over as George dodged the now limply held blade. He stood up, just in time to duck beneath a ball of fire. Daniel wasn¡¯t dead then. He turned and saw the fire mage. One hand was extended towards him, another clutched to his abdomen. Blood seeped through the fingers and he knew there wouldn¡¯t be time for healing. But Daniel was dangerous even dying on the grass. Another bullet fixed that. Three.


    Spinning, George realized he¡¯d made a mistake. Chiro was nowhere in sight. Muscles tensed, George pushed the last of his magic to his ears and stood. stone still. The local wildlife had long scattered from the fight, and only the faint chittering of hidden rodents remained. The wind howled, almost painful when his ears were so sensitive. Patience would be his only savior, so he waited. There. A quiet panting from the left. A quiet click of a gun being loaded. George spun and fired twice more. Chiro dropped their magic and became fully visible. He¡¯d been hit in the chest. George relaxed, that was all three. A final shot broke the silence. The bullet bit into the meat of his shoulder. He grunted in pain as he raised his gun once more and finished Chiro. Of course the prick wouldn¡¯t let bleeding to death stop them from trying to kill someone.


    George stumbled back to where he¡¯d dropped his pack when his teammates first appeared. If there were any more hiding in the bushes he was done for and there was nothing else for it. Digging through he found bandages and did his best to dress the wound one handed. Now all he had to do was get to the edge of the empire and hitch a ride to safety. While wounded. With no more mage-crafted bullets. He rifled through his former colleagues'' pockets. Bending down, he used his good arm to grab Chiro¡¯s foot and attempted to drag the body further from the road. He nearly passed out from the pain, this would have to be good enough. Instead, he limped down the road to gain some distance before someone came across the site of the fight.


    **********


    Large steamers were always looking to take on new grunt workers in harbor. Shoveling coal all day was not a job many people would do for more than a few voyages, unless they had no other options. George had taken advantage of the fact and hired on to the first ship he could find. It was now steaming away to Oudigar. From there he could join a cross-land caravan to Elgin and then hop another ship to Lanport. He bent over to add another shovel of coal to the furnace. The pain in his left shoulder almost caused him to drop it. He gritted his teeth and continued. Magic was staving off infection, but shoveling with an injured arm was a lesson in agony. He may have been able to afford passage, his teammates had been carrying more coin than he expected, but it was all he had to get him all the way to Verilia, so he would save it for an emergency. Or whatever bribes he would need.


    When his shift ended he staggered to the mess hall. He choked down the greasy stew and hard biscuits being served to crew members before staggering back to his hammock in the communal bunk area. Almost twelve years with the mage hunters should have meant this was a breeze. But they spent most of their time training their magic, or hunting down other magic users and convincing them to swear loyalty to the emperor. It turns out that wasn¡¯t great preparation for backbreaking manual labor. Even using some magic to soothe the muscles, his arms were shaking at his sides from the exertion. Not that he ahd anything else to do. He¡¯d brought a magic guide with him when he left but he¡¯d already practically memorized it. His arms were too tired to clean his guns again, which left lying around in his hammock.


    He laid down but struggled against the sleep that was trying to claim him. His dreams lately had not been a kind place. The last few years had sent magic into chaos. A slow change that turned them from a secret police force, if an unwilling one, into butchers. The creeping realization that they were not protecting anyone from uncontrolled magic had increased with every grandmother that brewed potions on the side without realizing she was adding magic, or the confused child that had been ripped away from their families because they could make sparks appear. And those parents that refused, or anyone that tried to run ¡­.there was a reason his squad had hunted him down so easily. Eventually sleep claimed him anyway, and he was haunted by a hundred accusatory faces. Up before dawn, he edged past sleeping sailors to repeat the whole thing.

 Ch 50 - The Formerly Floating City of CaerListar

    Unlike their soaring trip to Lanport, Laurel¡¯s team pushed into the continent of Gavroz flying close to the ground. It was risky, if something appeared they¡¯d have less room to maneuver. But it was also much less likely to get them noticed. Merista and Elgin had generally cordial relations. That didn¡¯t mean sneaking in with the express purpose to steal something was going to be looked on favorably, or without repercussions. Laurel¡¯s sect background didn¡¯t think national ownership of spontaneously occurring natural treasures was appropriate but she kept the grumbles to a minimum and kept her senses spread out for anyone that might take notice of their group.


    Caer¡¯Listar was nestled in a small mountain range. A preponderance of air and stone mana and the associated cultivation resources had once acted as a lodestone for cultivators from around the world. Laurel had visited herself when she became an adept and learned to fly in short bursts. The odd mix of aspects in the ambient mana, over millennia, had caused large pieces of mountain to become buoyant in the air. Sky islands would float around the mountain range as the winds took them. Some were no larger than a melon while others could support a full building, or more. Eventually a new sect, made up of some of the best enchanters ever seen on Decorra, roped many of the larger islands together with mana anchors, and the floating city was born. Laurel was pointedly not imagining what might have happened if the mana supporting such a place were to be cut off all at once.


    She had been giving Kat directions all morning. The tell-tale split mountain they were searching for appeared to their left and the pilot adjusted to fly their expedition through the gap.


    The valley was as lush as Laurel remembered. A crystal clear lake filled one end, feeding a stream that would become a major river further south. Grasses in a hundred shades of green and brown blanketed the center, thin bands of trees filling out the edges and creeping up the mountain sides.


    But within moments, everyone¡¯s attention was pulled to the jagged stone strewn across the whole valley floor. Some were the size of large buildings, others unidentifiable rocks. The whole city had come down, violently. She expected it, but it still hurt to see such a monument to defying limits utterly destroyed. In her mind she tried to impose her memories on the view in front of her, the soaring bridges and hanging vines over the rubble.


    Kat¡¯s voice broke her out of the reverie. ¡°Set down near the lake, we¡¯ll make camp up there and explore the ruins using that as a base.¡± The pilots followed orders and soon enough, they had a functional camp set up.


    Laurel tossed her mana map into the air and triggered it to send out a pulse of mana. A few minutes later, as the whole group gathered around, an echoing pulse brought the information of the local mana infrastructure back and recorded it on the map.


    ¡°Good news, this is definitely still a mana well. That means there will be at least a few useful natural treasures for us. Does everyone still have the preservation boxes?¡± Rebecca and Leander enthusiastically held theirs up, along with the harvesting knives, while the soldiers grunted agreement. ¡°Excellent. Remember what we talked about on harvesting without destroying the roots or tendrils or whatever is anchoring it to the physical world. And keep your eyes sharp. Areas like this will be teeming with spirit beasts. Most will leave you alone but some won¡¯t like us coming into their territory.¡±


    From where the map orb was hovering in the air, light projected onto the ground, outlining a map of the valley. ¡°The mana density is enough that we can¡¯t pick out anything obvious from this far away. I¡¯m thinking we¡¯ll split into two groups and start working our way down each side of the river. We can rotate who stays back at camp to watch the planes each day. Any thoughts?¡±


    ¡°What if we ruin it?¡± Reynard was looking down at his harvesting knife skeptically. ¡°These things are super rare and important, what happens if we bungle it?¡±


    ¡°If you get it in the box quickly enough, we can likely still scavenge enough to use for something,¡± Laurel said. ¡°Not the City Core, but there are more ways to use these things than you could ever name.¡±


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    ¡°Forget that. You¡¯re the most advanced new cultivators the army has, you¡¯ll be teaching others. So it''s time to get the big girl panties on and figure out how to do it right,¡± Maria butted in with her own brand of encouragement.


    *********


    Laurel¡¯s party for the day consisted of Leander, Reina, Maria, and a young man named Colin that had been tapped to accompany their mission due to his grandmother¡¯s purported ¡®hedge witch¡¯ status. Rebecca, Trip, Kat, and Reynard were trekking parallel to them on the opposite side of the river. The remainder of their group was busy fortifying their camp with the army¡¯s standard protocols. Without enough light in the day for a true exploration, they had decided to do a quick scout of the surrounding areas.


    The boulders scattered around the valley made for plenty of shadowy hiding places. They discovered the fact when a snake darted out from underneath one directly at Leander. The boy stumbled backwards, desperately taking the basic stance Martin had spent a month pounding into him. Laurel continued to observe as he pulled out a dagger. They had discussed giving the sect members firearms, but the likelihood one of them would accidentally shoot themselves or each other had been deemed too high. Watching the boy¡¯s flailing swings of the blade reassured her it was the right decision.


    Drab brown scales covered its body and small fangs poked out of its mouth. It didn¡¯t look like the original species was venomous, but she glanced at Maria to be sure. The captain was doubled over trying to hold in her laughter, so Laurel assumed it was fine. Definitely a spirit beast, but a weak one, she couldn¡¯t tell if it had even formed a core worth harvesting yet.


    The snake reared back, staring the boy down but hesitant to attack. Leander was showing a bit of street wisdom by holding back and hoping the threat of the blade would be enough. She watched as he started making some sort of gesture with the hand not holding the knife.


    ¡°Oh. I¡¯m not dealing with it, this is a good opportunity for you,¡± Laurel said. It had taken her a moment to realize Leander was trying to get her to take action while he kept the snake distracted.


    Left hand clenched in frustration, right hand gripping a dagger like his life depended on it, he started feinting at the snake. A few of these testing swipes with the dagger and the snake took the bait. It lunged for him and he brought the blade around to slice it in half. He missed, but it wasn¡¯t a terrible strategy since the snake missed too. The process repeated only this time Leander tripped while attempting his strike. He somehow managed to fall on top of the snake and crush it enough to kill it.


    Laurel was smiling and she heard wheezing from behind her where Maria and Colin had watched the battle. A quick glance informed her that Maria was now on the ground and Colin had a hand clamped over his mouth to keep any noise in.


    ¡°Atrocious form, but you did win and that¡¯s all that really matters in a fight,¡± Laurel told Leander while the rest of the party attempted to get themselves under control. He was panting on the ground, having scrambled away from both the snake and his dagger. ¡°Next time focus on staying upright. Did you fall fighting the owl too?¡±


    *******


    Leander gazed up at Laurel where she was looking down at him, illuminated from behind by the late afternoon sun. He had been fighting for his life while she and the soldiers watched. Why didn¡¯t they step in? The words Laurel was saying started to filter in between panicked breaths. He threw his hands up in the air. Yes, he had fallen when fighting the owl, but that was what happened when something was flying straight at you.


    A snort brought his attention back to the sectmaster. She was smiling the kind of smile that meant trouble for the novices.


    ¡°Martin tells me he taught you how to harvest a spirit beast.¡± Her foot nudged the dagger back in his direction from where he had dropped it. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want to waste anything.¡±


    When he finished half an hour later he looked longingly towards the nearby river and then gestured to his whole body.


    ¡°In a minute. Snakes don¡¯t usually attack larger predators walking by unless they¡¯re protecting something. You need to crawl in there and see what you find, then you can rinse off.¡±


    He sighed loudly and forced his shoulders to slump to make sure Laurel knew he was sacrificing for this, then shimmied towards the divot where the snake had been lying in wait. There were a bunch of small bones, and a rat tail which made him gag so much he thought he would vomit. The bone-deep knowledge that Laurel would still make him look at the rest of the hollow if he did get sick motivated him to keep it in. Reaching out, he brushed the trash away and found a little green plant with four leaves. There was definitely mana in there. All thoughts of rat tails left his mind. He had fought a battle and here was the prize. Using the harvesting knife he carefully sliced the stem the way he¡¯d been taught. Careful not to crush the plant he shimmied back out of the hole.


    He held it above his head in triumph. The others gathered around and Laurel reached out and poked it a bit.


    ¡°Not bad for a snake with barely any mana sense. We should see if we can repot it and you can bring it home.¡±


    He just looked at Laurel. Exasperated, he started pulling at the thong of his necklace to bring out the transmission stone. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°No clue. You get to look through the books later to figure it out though.¡±


    Defeated, utterly, he handed off the plant to Laurel and trudged into the river to wash away the whole exchange.

 Ch 51 - Uncanny Valley

    Laurel was ready to go into the valley before the rest of her team was awake the next morning. The ambient mana was so heavy it smothered the range of her spiritual senses and it was making her antsy. She stalked the campsite in the pre-dawn light until Colin, on last watch, begged her to stop. Instead she sat by the remains of their campfire and listened to the rustling of small mammals and early birdsong. A few of the floating stones of the old city had crashed to earth near their campsite. Laurel sidled up to one with a chisel and flaked off a few pieces. Once there was a handful of stone dust and chips accumulated, she tossed the whole thing into the air.


    The flakes drifted down, some being carried further away on a stray breeze. She repeated the process twice more. On the fourth attempt, she jumped to the top of the rock and dropped the stone chips from there. As much as she tried, none of them ever floated, or even fell slower than normal. The valley was still a mana well, anchoring the influx of cosmic mana to the world, but they would not be seeing the return of the floating city. It was a melancholy thought. Her new novices would never know this place, its legacy only in the memories of the few still alive that had visited. With effort she shook off the gloom. There would be other wonders, new ones, that her sect members would get to explore. In another decade Leander and Rebecca would be coming home with stories every bit as exciting as her tales from Caer¡¯Listar. When the others woke up and finished their morning routine, it was time to head out.


    They trekked into the valley in the same groups as the day before. For the first hour or so they called out playfully across the river as they went. A few spirit beasts or normal animals were startled out of hiding, but they didn¡¯t find anything worth harvesting. Laurel had taken a moment to explain to everyone that the mana concentration differential meant both the more useful items and more dangerous animals would be further along. Leander had a frown pasted on after realizing they might spend the night out and he was expected to cart around his pack, which would only get heavier as they found what they were after.


    Further in, the river was widened and forced the two groups apart. They would need to shout to be heard by the others. Another couple of hours in and their team decided to stop for lunch.


    ¡°I expect we¡¯ll start running into things that pose a threat soon. Keep an eye out. Leander, do your best to spread your senses around as well.¡± Laurel said.


    Leander looked up from where he was picking feathers and hair out of his clothes. Not many spirit beasts had decided to test their group, but Laurel felt those that did were good training for the boy. He gave her a distracted thumbs up as he continued to alternate cleaning himself and wolfing down his sandwich.


    They picked back up and continued. The further they got into the valley the more Laurel was sure there was some sort of stone locus up ahead. A natural treasure with a stone affinity would be fantastic for defense. For the Core or any of her sect members. With enough time and mana, certain buildings in the city would be practically indestructible. Cautious but optimistic, they continued, with a more and more accurate pinpoint of where they were headed.


    One of the largest groupings of shattered stones they had yet seen was waiting for them. This one was big enough that ruins of a small palace were crumbling on top. The long years meant moss and grass had creeped up the sides, until it resembled a natural hill.


    ¡°We¡¯re going in?¡± Maria said.


    ¡°We are,¡± Laurel confirmed. She then leapt onto the top and turned to watch the others scramble up.


    Pillars of stone had once held up some of the soaring architecture the city was known for. Now they were obstacles the troop worked their way past as they explored the ruins. They found the remains of a staircase, spiraling down into the stone. Probably storage when the city was a floating paradise, now it was the perfect place for an earth-based natural treasure to form. A cellar, now merged with the earth itself, surrounded by more stone above, and steeped in mana.


    Before they went down Laurel motioned them all closer to whisper without being overheard. ¡°There¡¯s something in there. The distortion of the treasure makes it hard to tell exactly what, and but enough mana for it to be something with some kick. Stronger than Leander, but not by too much.¡±


    The soldiers pulled out handguns and Leander grabbed his now well-used dagger. Laurel pulled out a blade of her own. More subtly, she began pulling the air around her into a rough shield. It was a technique she had used for ages. After being shot in the backwoods of Laskar, she had spent some time working on it to be able to deflect bullets instead of mana-infused projectiles or arrows from other cultivators. It wouldn¡¯t be enough to completely stop bullets or shards of rock being shot out at her, but it should deflect small projectiles slightly off course, making her that much harder to hit. Holding the technique with her mind and a short sword with her right hand, Laurel stepped down the stairs. She turned the corner just in time to see a nondescript man rip what looked like a small marble carving off of the floor.


    ¡°You fucking idiot!¡± Laurel shouted. She was already launching herself across the room. The man¡¯s mana stirred but Laurel had correctly pegged him as only slightly stronger than Leander. She was next to him before he could react. At the last moment she stored the sword and simply tackled the man to the ground. He had no mental shields in place so she reached out with her own mana and applied pressure until he fell unconscious.


    Ignoring the now limp body, she dove for the Miner¡¯s Fortune where it had rolled into a corner. It had the appearance of white marble streaked through with veins of gold and absolutely gushing power. Her mana senses ran through the internal structure. There was no saving it. Definitely still useful as a cultivation aid but the potency had been destroyed.


    The others had rushed into the room after her shout and were looking at the scene wide-eyed.


    ¡°He ruined it.¡± She then turned a gimlet eye on Leander, making the boy take an involuntary step back. ¡°We¡¯ll start working on mental shielding. You shouldn¡¯t be that easy to put to sleep.¡±


    Maria stepped between them and bent to examine the body. ¡°Well he still has a pulse. Can you wake him up so we can see if he has any friends?¡±


    ¡°Yes. These will be enough to hold him.¡± She produced a pair of manacles engraved in silver.


    Colin hurried over and clamped the suppression bands around the man¡¯s wrist. When he was effectively locked down Laurel prodded the man¡¯s mana to speed until he jolted awake. His head whipped around, first towards the door, blocked by Maria, then to Colin holding a handgun and ready to use it. Then Laurel stepped into view.


    ¡°Who are you? Why are you here? Who taught you?¡± Laurel¡¯s questions came rapid-fire.


    The man answered in sneering Laskarian, answering at least some of her questions. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you like to know?¡±


    ¡°Who is here with you, you aren¡¯t strong enough to be here alone.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you go out and find him? Get this done sooner when he crushes you.¡±


    Leander prodded Laurel and shrugged. She looked around and realized from expressions only Maria spoke the language of the expansionist empire.


    ¡°He¡¯s here with someone strong.¡± The captain realized what she hadn¡¯t said. ¡°Go, we¡¯ll drag this guy outside and start going back to camp.¡±


    She sprinted back up the stairs and launched herself into the air. A strong cultivator she couldn¡¯t sense meant he was on the other side of the river and holding a respectable veil. That kind of competence in an enemy was not something the others could handle. Her mana senses keyed in to Rebecca¡¯s locator stone and she flew across the valley. Borin¡¯s face flashed into her mind. She still thought of the boy regularly, but now all she could feel was the same horror that had gripped her that day. Her students were in trouble and she wasn¡¯t there.


    *******


    Rebecca examined the strangers who had appeared out of nowhere. She¡¯d learned the hard way how to take someone in at a glance. The leader was standing on a pillar of stone that had burst out of the earth when they had arrived. An orange robe in the style Laurel sometimes wore was the only notable thing about him. Otherwise he was average height, brown hair, dull eyes, nothing to pick him out of a crowd. The men behind him all wore the same kind of clothes she was in. Hardy, and good for traveling. He looked down at them while his thugs fanned out behind him with a collection of cruel smiles. She knew a bully when she saw one.


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    ¡°....¡± He said something in a language Rebecca didn¡¯t recognize. She tried to glance at Trip and the others as subtly as she could, and saw either confusion or grim frowns on the officer¡¯s faces. The man realized they weren¡¯t responding and impatiently gestured to one of his cronies.


    ¡°Master Corvin says some of you have great potential. Any cultivators among you will be shown profound mercy, being offered the opportunity to return to Laskar with us to further your training. The rest of you will be eliminated.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Major Kat drawled, ¡°You can tell your master to shove it.¡±


    The woman who had spoken looked at the leader askance, asking for assistance. Bullies liked to blame the messenger, she was probably afraid to translate what Major Kat had said. Eventually she muttered something and the leader frowned and said something back.


    ¡°Very well. None of you will be any great loss.¡±


    Palm raised, his smile turned cruel. Just in time for a black blur to slam into him from the side. The man went flying towards the edge of the valley. Everyone in both groups was now staring at Laurel where she hovered above the pillar. Everyone, except Major Kat. A shot thundered out and the spokeswoman for the Laskarians slumped to the ground.


    A scramble began as everyone started flinging attacks. Rebecca had been given a staff to protect herself. Luckily only two of the other group had guns. The rest pulled out an assortment of old-fashioned weapons like what Laurel and Martin preferred, with a few swords, a mace, and something else she didn¡¯t recognize. The soldiers were keeping the enemies at bay. Major Kat had dropped at least one more.


    Rebecca eased a bit further from the fight. Martin had given her some training with the staff but she was no expert. Despite growing up in the Flats, she¡¯d never even been in a fight. That didn¡¯t matter to the man who approached her. He was smaller than average, only a bit bigger than her, and carried a knife in each hand.


    Her feet set, she recited Martin¡¯s advice in her mind to keep from crying. Keep the distance, hit the soft bits. It was working until the man¡¯s knives caught on fire. Tears dripped down the corners of her eyes but she stayed focused on the man. She could do this. Cultivators had to fight sometimes.


    ********


    Laurel dashed through the air towards the earth cultivator she had flung towards a mountain. Not her best decision but there wasn¡¯t time to stop her momentum and anything except physically moving him had a chance of letting his technique land on her team. They should be able to handle the lackeys, but a technique from a master cultivator would have left nothing but paste.


    Dust rose from the impact site, and Laurel pulled together another shield technique. Wind whipped around her at high speeds. Her will infused the ambient mana around her as she waited for the enemy cultivator to strike. It didn¡¯t take long. A rock the size of a carriage shot towards her. It would have been easy to dodge, but she didn¡¯t want to let it go closer to the other fight. Lightning built between her hands. She held the wild energy back and poured more and more mana into it. When the boulder got close enough she released the condensed plasma. The stone exploded into a million smaller fragments.


    The man that appeared behind the stone was dressed in a burnt orange robe. She could make out an insignia on the breast but not enough to identify a sect. This man was like her, and Martin. There was no other way he would be this powerful before the world¡¯s mana fully returned to equilibrium. Her first instinct was to attack the man with prejudice. He had been about to smite some of her own students, after all. She pushed that instinct down. If there was a chance for some allies she should take it, that¡¯s what her old sectmaster would have done.


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± She took a chance and spoke in Alrasian. If he was as old as she thought, he probably knew at least a bit.


    ¡°I¡¯m Corvin Arash, formerly of the Burning Sands sect. And with that much lightning you are either Stasia Alambra, the White Spider, or the Stormblade. I thought I was here simply visiting an area that used to have resources for earth cultivators. Now I find instead I have an unparalleled recruiting opportunity.¡±


    Behind the faked affability, Laurel didn¡¯t miss that he was still infusing mana into the rocks around him. Just as she was sure he could tell she hadn¡¯t dropped her shield and was pulling more and more air under her control.


    ¡°Laurel Stormblade. And what exactly are you recruiting for? I have my own sect and I¡¯m not looking to jump ship.¡±


    ¡°Adorable. A sect full of children you¡¯ve cobbled together isn¡¯t something to be causing a fuss over. Your chamber must have broken early if no one was there to explain, but we were saved for a reason. You¡¯ll need to come with us to meet Lawrence.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re actually working with the people who did this?¡± Laurel gestured around at the world at large, still hovering in the air. Her agitation caused wind to whip the ends of her hair around in a crazed halo. ¡°You are a master-level cultivator. If you found out who did this you should have put them in the ground, or left to find more help if that was beyond you.¡± The last line she spat at the coward in front of her.


    Corvin snorted and brushed some dirt off his robe. ¡°I guess I can¡¯t be too surprised.I knew the Eternal Archive were childish idealists, but I¡¯ll give you one more chance to be practical. There¡¯s no point seeking revenge for people that have been dead for a thousand years.¡±


    Instead of answering, a lightning bolt as thick as a person streaked down towards Corvin. She had no patience to argue with traitors. It slammed into a dome of earth. The barrier was destroyed but enough energy had been redirected that Corvin emerged with a burned arm and no other injuries.


    Dropping the banter, a hail of sharpened spikes arced towards Laurel. She dodged and they followed behind like a pack of starlings. Whipping the wind into a frenzy, she directed a gust into the flock, breaking Corvin¡¯s technique and blasting the shards back down to the ground.


    Air forged into thin blades swiped down at the enemy master. A flurry of different angles and timings made it impossible to dodge them all. Each left deep divots in the earth, throwing up clouds of soil. A few managed to land on the man, but did little damage with all the stone the man was throwing around. Earth cultivators were fucking hard to kill. She had a brief moment to regret not absorbing the Tension Vesicle but she couldn¡¯t pause the fight for a few days to do it now.


    More exchanges. Laurel would rain destruction from above while Corvin defended and sent rocks of various sizes and shapes into the air at Laurel. There, her air attunement meant they were easily dealt with. They were at a stalemate and Laurel was getting concerned for the others. Her students weren¡¯t combat-trained yet and most of the soldiers didn¡¯t have enough cultivation to make a difference in the fight. If there was any luck on their side, Corvin would be traditional enough that his lackeys weren¡¯t carrying guns.


    Laurel was too strong in the air for Corvin to do real damage. He was stronger on the earth and she was loath to get close and lose her advantage. But to break the stalemate it was going to be necessary. A sword appeared in her hands. Deceptively simple in appearance, a straight double-edged blade tapering to a point, with an unadorned crossguard and leather-wrapped hilt. It was the best blade she owned. A king''s ransom had traded hands when she found a smith able to create a blade to her specifications. Sharp enough to cut through any monster hide, strong enough to smash through rocks. It was one of her prized possessions, though she hadn¡¯t needed it since waking up.


    A conjured tailwind increased her speed as she hurtled towards Corvin, blade-first. Lightning crackled in the air and down the blade as she blasted through stone barriers. Getting so close meant dodging the projectiles he was still flinging was impossible. Many were pushed away by her shield or missed her entirely, but others hit true. One bit deeply into the side of her torso before pushing out through her back. Others gouged gashes along her arms and legs.


    Laurel ignored the blood and pain. Lunging forward, she scored a hit on Corvin¡¯s shoulder, opening a wound immediately cauterized by lightning transferred from her blade. The man used the earth to carry him a few feet away while the muscles in his arm spasmed. Closing again, Laurel¡¯s swing was intercepted by a stone staff he had produced from a spatial ring. She didn¡¯t let the distance between them open back up. A rapid fire series of blows were traded, stone parrying metal.


    Another hit, this time through his ribs. A mortal would have died quickly and a weaker cultivator would have given up. The master in front of her grunted and kept going, answering with a blow to her own ribs she could feel cracked at least two of them. Through the melee she had to divert half her attention to exert control on the ambient mana to keep him from entombing her in an avalanche of earth.


    ¡°Give up, I¡¯m a bad match for you and we both know it.¡± Crimson blood sprayed from his mouth as Corvin taunted her. ¡°You know why they kept you around right? It¡¯s because you were a good little follower, doing what you were told by your elders and never pushing. Time to stop playing at sectmaster when you obviously aren¡¯t suited for it and fall in line.¡±


    Laurel funneled all her rage and all her willpower into her blade. The lightning no longer looked like blue-white veins running up and down the metal, but a glowing sheath around the blade. One thought burned through her mind, she was the sectmaster of the Eternal Archive. And this fool was nothing. Swings that had slowed slightly, from the blood loss and fatigue sped back up. With a crack that could be heard throughout the valley her sword met Corvin¡¯s staff and the stone shattered. The opening was just enough for the backswing to rip through his neck. No blood fountained out of the severed stump. His head fell to the ground with a dull thud. The look of surprise would be memorialized on his face until the local beasts tore his mana-rich flesh to pieces.


    With the dregs of her focus, Laurel had the presence of mind to grab his spatial ring and anything else she could feel mana in and shove it into her pockets before staggering back towards the others. She was so drained of power she didn¡¯t want to spare any for storing things in her tattoo. Flying was definitely out. Sounds of battle had ceased and she limped forward in silence. Her mana senses were too sensitive to scan the area after that fight so she simply hoped her friends and students had survived. Anyone still standing from Corvin¡¯s team could share his fate for all she cared.


    *******


    Leander watched Laurel come back into view. Not flying or using some cool cultivator gadget but trudging through the mud of their battlefield. A dull sword in one hand was supporting her like a cane. When she was closer he realized she was absolutely covered in a thick coating of blood and dirt, turned into a kind of thick sludge. He gagged and barely kept from vomiting as the scent of the whole area hit him at once. Blood and gunpowder mixed with the aftereffects of magic. Bent over he tried to breathe through his mouth while Laurel reached where their side was resting with two prisoners.


    He and Captain Varska had managed to get the original guy to follow them after Laurel sped off. Or Captain Varska had, with a well-placed blow to the head and tossing him over her shoulders. When they joined their friends it was enough to tip the battle and they had captured another of the bad guys to keep for questioning. The rest of the bodies were piled off to the side. Rebecca kept glancing over at them and making weird faces but Laurel had warned them they would have to fight eventually. And they hadn¡¯t started this one. Cultivators were strong enough to protect each other.


    ¡°Need. Rinse. Meditate. Food.¡± A few disjointed words and Laurel was swaying alarmingly.


    Varska caught her under the shoulder that looked the least injured. ¡°Yeah, that smells about right. Let¡¯s rinse you off in the river then you can sit around until it''s safe to move. Laurel gave a jerky nod and they went off towards the river, Varska half dragging Laurel.


    ¡°Everyone else, we¡¯ll get these two a-ways upriver and make a temporary camp. Reina, you start heading back to the main camp doubletime and talk to the rest. I want to warn them to be on the lookout, though if they aren¡¯t already after that noise they might need a refresher course on basic training when we get back. Let them know we¡¯re okay.¡± Major Kat was using her no-nonsense voice that had everyone jumping to obey.


    A smart salute and Reina ran off, while the rest of them followed orders and stripped the bodies of valuables or dragged the unconscious cultivators towards the river.

 Ch 52 - Home Front

    The sun was high and bright as Martin wandered the fields on the early spring day, a long coat his only concession to the bitter cold. He had acquiesced to Annette¡¯s scheduling prowess, and started getting his assignments done early each week so he could do what he wanted most of the time. Truly that woman was a born Quartermaster. There was no road cutting across the fields, parallel to the edge of the city, so Martin pushed through snowdrifts and small hills, sinking his awareness deep into the earth. Most of this could be done through interfacing with the City Core, but he liked getting a true understanding of the land that came with seeing it, smelling it, experiencing it all himself.


    The land was stubborn. The wild nature of the local mana flows, only leashed by the City Core, meant he would need to pour more willpower into manipulating any of the soil or rock below. That would work in their favor eventually. Laurel was clever enough to bring back some earth attuned treasures for the city, and they would be safe from anyone tunneling in, and more able to manipulate things themselves. They would need to be. He wasn¡¯t sure what madness led to this city being constructed without a wall, but it would be a problem. Such a large population meant regular beast waves were inevitable. Without better fortifications a few spirit beasts would tear through the slums and up into the higher districts. A fort was a good defense when your enemy was a human army, lining up to fight at an agreed upon time. Not so much a ravening horde of monsters coming to feast on the Core.


    He kept walking. The idea of a barrier was seeded into the earth with each step. The others had never really understood this part of his cultivation. Laurel¡¯s elements were all about speed. She could make the air bend to her will at the drop of a hat. Earth was more of a conversation. Especially earth that was soaked in this much ambient mana. Sure, he could pull some of it up if he needed to fight. Fling it around as shields or shoot it towards an enemy. But the larger scale workings he was planning took months or years of preparation.


    ********


    ¡°We¡¯re going out for dinner.¡± Martin did his best to keep his laugh on the inside as Adam jolted at the sound of his voice.


    ¡°I¡¯m busy.¡± Adam gestured around to the sea of paper on his desk. ¡°We can go out next week but I need to finish this translation. Then I have some more in depth catalog cross-referencing I¡¯ve been putting off.¡±


    Martin eased forward, put one of the stray ribbons in the book Adam was hunched over, and gently closed the cover. ¡°You haven¡¯t left the library in two days. Annette sent me to rescue you.¡±


    ¡°These projects are important¡­¡± The protestations continued as Martin herded him out and sent a mental command to the library to shut down for the evening. The doors sealed shut behind them and they were in a cab to a nice, newly developed city district before Adam could muster up too much resistance. Martin smiled, curmudgeonly scholar was an archetype that transcended centuries.


    ******


    They were seated by a chipper teenager talking so quickly Martin was a bit afraid she wasn¡¯t breathing. ¡°We just got our official acceptance to the Kitchen so there¡¯s a new menu tonight. We have slow roasted goat with a pomegranate mint sauce or guinea fowl stuffed with rice studded with raisins and pine nuts.¡±


    After ordering one of each and a bottle of wine, the girl went off and they were able to get a word in edgewise.


    ¡°Tell me,¡± Martin said, ¡°why would a place like this go through all the hassle to join a guild of restaurants. All that time and effort, is it just for the prestige?¡± He took a sip of the fruity red wine they had ordered, letting the tannins roll across his palate like velvet. ¡°For that matter, why did we bother with all of them? I saw the list, it seems excessive, and that pearl Laurel handed out was fucking expensive.¡±


    ¡°Lots of reasons. You¡¯re right about the prestige. A place like this is good, but restaurants are so hard to keep afloat. Guild backing means people will go out of their way to eat here. It becomes a destination for people from the lower districts and a necessity to compete with anything further up the hill. Access to higher quality staff, more premium ingredients. It means the guild might offer a loan during hard times.¡±


    The server came back with their meals and they both tucked in. The goat melted on Martin¡¯s tongue, the sweet tang from the pomegranate, the spice in the marinade, and the cooling yogurt created a symphony of flavor. Impressive. More so for mortals.


    ¡°At least they¡¯re putting all that to good use, this is divine.¡±


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    Adam mumbled his agreement and they both set to enjoying the food without interruption. He stole a bite from Adam¡¯s fowl and realized this place was something special. Esther was an excellent cook, but this was above and beyond anything he had tasted in years. After the initial few bites, they slowed down enough to resume the conversation.


    ¡°The sect joined all those guilds for different reasons. Guilds are so ingrained in the Meristan culture and economy that there are laws involved. It would be illegal for us to hunt spirit beasts or harvest certain plants without some of our memberships. Others aren¡¯t legally required, but it''s much easier to sell or trade if you have the support of the merchant¡¯s guild.


    ¡°It¡¯s also, historically, a way for commoners to gain power. With an influential enough guild, acting in unison, enough pressure can be put on nobles or even the king, to change policy.¡±


    Martin had been nodding along. ¡°By that logic, should we be starting a guild for cultivation? You said there are other magic users in the country. Maybe if we had our own guild I wouldn¡¯t be reinforcing buildings for nobles in my free time.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s something to what you say. I know the trial worked out for us, but the nobles swindling us out of fancy magic buildings is absolute horseshit,¡± Adam said.


    The rest of the dinner passed with lighter topics of conversation. Mostly about the differences growing up in a sect versus growing up in the slums. They stayed late at the restaurant, finishing off another bottle of wine and an absolutely scrumptious chocolate confection. Returning to the sect, Adam on the warm and fuzzy side of tipsy, Martin sober but having a great time, they found Annette still awake in her office.


    ¡°Taking advantage of needing less sleep already?¡± Martin joked with Annette as he helped a swaying Adam onto the window seat, before relaxing on the chaise near the fireplace. In response she leaned back and smiled at the two of them.


    ¡°It looks like you two had a very nice night,¡± she said leadingly.


    ¡°We did, in fact ¡ª¡± Martin didn¡¯t get a chance to finish before Adam cut him off.


    ¡°A Magic Guild. We need to start a magic guild so the bastard nobles and the merchants can¡¯t push us around anymore.¡± The declaration was followed by slumping back against the window and closing his eyes. There was a slight chance he¡¯d had a bit too much of the wine at dinner.


    ¡°Ignoring the slurring, I actually agree. The collaboration with the merchant guild will work out for us, but it definitely favors them. Grimley will be an ally, I think. But I don¡¯t like that now we¡¯re doing things for the council for free.¡±  She reached for a fresh notebook from the drawer she kept stocked in her desk. ¡°Let¡¯s make some preliminary lists on what we would need.¡±


    Adam interrupted with an impressive snore. Martin snorted, and before he could stop himself he was letting out a full belly laugh. Annette looked surprised but she gave in to the humor as well.


    ¡°Tomorrow. We¡¯ll make a list tomorrow,¡± she said.


    Martin nudged Adam awake and helped him to his bed before retiring to the rotunda to work on his own cultivation and the City Core for the rest of the night.


    The sect officers reconvened bright and early the next morning. Martin was scheduled to teach basic cultivation for the newest recruits and soldiers, then more advanced topics for the established sect members. Laurel¡¯s original students were ready to burn their meridians and he was preparing them for that process. So it was in the predawn light that they met, this time in his own office.


    The room was still bare for his tastes. Mostly empty stone with some useful amenities sprinkled in. The furniture was comfortable and sturdy, having been part of the bulk orders Annette had made for the initial furnishing of the sect house. But nothing grand or unique or matching his taste at all. His chambers in the original citadel had been decked out with beautiful tapestries and artwork he found inspiring. Unfortunately, he hadn¡¯t been carrying anything in his spatial tattoo when the cultivators in the small Town of Rishata had trapped him with news of a fake sinkhole. Going out to local galleries to hunt for some hidden gems was something he was looking forward to. He¡¯d held off up til now mostly due to funding. Quality was expensive, and while the sect had plenty, he felt uncomfortable asking to appropriate that much for his own hobby. When more money was coming in, he¡¯d look further. Or sell some of his own talents if things got desperate.


    ¡°Now that we¡¯re all in our right minds,¡± Annette said this with an eyebrow raised at Adam, ¡°we can talk seriously about forming a guild. Adam, what is the actual bare minimum we would need for official recognition.¡±


    Feeling the effects of the previous evening, Adam was moving more gingerly than usual. He eventually got the answer out. ¡°Charter document, that¡¯s easy, just needs some rules and benefits laid out. Has to be materially better for members or we get shut down. Enough membership to account for a ¡®significant portion of a trade or industry¡¯. That bit is more up to interpretation but with the sect as a member, along with a few more, we should be set. Then it¡¯s a process for application that a member of the target group could be reasonably expected to fulfill. That last part is one of the reasons some applications are so strict. It keeps the guild from being overwhelmed by new applicants, but leaves the door open for anyone with enough time to send something in. The only caveat is that it has to be achievable without an ¡®undue burden¡¯. We were talking about the Kitchen last night. Any new member has to win one of their sponsored cooking contests before they¡¯ll even consider granting entry. It means new members have to be dedicated, usually making the attempt more than once before succeeding. The contests aren¡¯t closed either. Regular members are routinely made to compete as well, to make sure standards don¡¯t slip.¡±


    Annette had been furiously taking notes during this explanation. Martin watched in horror and fascination as his to-do list was forming right before his eyes. ¡°Okay. A charter I¡¯m assuming you could handle.¡± Adam nodded and then cringed as he regretted the motion. ¡°A process to join shouldn¡¯t be hard. Martin, you and I could come up with a reasonable test for active cultivation prowess. Members would be tricky though. There¡¯s not much point in a guild that¡¯s just the sect.¡±


    Martin had a solution for that. ¡°You said there are a few groups that openly practice magic, right? We have a sect full of novices, several of whom are going to be opening their meridians and becoming initiates in the next month or so. It¡¯s a perfect first mission to send them on. Not too much danger but it will actually be useful to the sect, not some contrived fetch quest.¡±


    The quill in Annette¡¯s hand actually paused for a few heartbeats while she processed that. ¡°You think they¡¯re ready?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± He pressed on before he could be interrupted. ¡°No one is ever ready the first time they go out in the world. That¡¯s the real purpose behind a sect. When they mess up, or don¡¯t know what to do, they can come back home and we¡¯ll help them.¡±

 Ch 53 - By Land and By Sea

    The wound on his shoulder itched like he couldn¡¯t believe. It was maddening, and it took all his willpower to keep from reopening the scabs with incessant scratching. George dealt with it by remembering the agony of his first week on the steamer, shoveling with an arm sporting a gunshot wound. The ship was now in the process of docking, and George was ready to be off. He stood with the merchants and other passengers that would be disembarking in Oudigar. The second mate walked up to where he was wedged behind the more important passengers.


    ¡°Now son, are you sure we can¡¯t keep you on for another few legs? Coalies that do what they¡¯re told without complaining aren¡¯t so easy to come by.¡± The genial man clapped him on the shoulder. The injured one. He just managed to avoid reacting.  It was a decent offer, and in another life, one where he had never heard of the magehunters, he might have said yes. But he needed more distance and stronger mages between him and his old life.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. I¡¯m on to Somorin after this, where my mother¡¯s family lives.¡±


    ¡°Well, good luck to you. This here is your pay for the passage plus a little extra for being such a hard worker.¡± A handshake and the sailor was off to bellow at some deckhands who weren¡¯t where they were supposed to be.


    George went ashore with the rest and was faced with navigating an unfamiliar city when he didn¡¯t speak the language beyond a few common phrases. Major ports like this usually had a lot of people who spoke Laskarian, which would probably be enough to find a friendly caravaneer. His clothes were sticking to his body already as he began to sweat. The humidity was oppressive now that there was no sea breeze cooling things off. He moved through the docks until he found what must be the equivalent of the port authority. Fancy looking men and women were going in and out carrying forms and frowning. In his experience, busy people wearing frowns was the best way to find the official buildings.


    A bored-looking man that George was convinced worked in every major city was sitting behind a desk, waving at George to approach.


    ¡°Yes?¡± The man was speaking in the native language but transitioned to Laskarian when George¡¯s accent mangled the Oudigan.


    ¡°I¡¯m looking to find a trade caravan going out east, where would I go for that.¡±


    The man rolled his eyes and pulled a city map out of a drawer. ¡°We¡¯re here. The Land Trade Commission is here. Good luck.¡± He jabbed a few places on the map to illustrate and waved George off again. If he¡¯d known it was that easy he would have avoided letting anyone in on his direction, but it was too late now.


    Head down, he navigated through the narrow streets. The city was like a rat warren, with no forethought to planning or navigation. At least twice, the streets on his map were blocked off or absent entirely, and he had to backtrack through the bustling crowds to find an alternate route.


    George stumbled into the Land Trade Commission offices dripping with sweat and frustration in equal measure. Being inside the building wasn¡¯t better, as the humidity remained and the small windows emphasized the stagnant air, rather than letting in any sort of breeze. The room was filled with a collection of hard-looking men and women from around the world. Some of the staid, mass-produced clothing he was used to from home mixed with bold patterns and airy fabrics of the locals, with even more exotic options he didn¡¯t recognize. They all eyed him as he came in and then went back to whatever card, dice, or drinking game they were occupied with. No bored official was sitting at a desk to direct him, so he wandered over to the north wall like he knew what he was doing. The focal point of the room, it was covered in bits of paper. When he was closer he could make out job descriptions. Most were written in more than one language, Laskarian, Oudigan, some occasional Meristan. A few were translated into the languages from countries further away, but as he wasn¡¯t trying to get to the far side of Naxos, those were ignored.


    The notices seemed to be roughly arranged by region, and within each region, by specialties being sought out. He stood in front of the area marked out for Elgin, and scanned through the options. A few were looking for porters. That would be the ideal way for him to stay beneath the notice of anyone who might remember him later, but most of those were also demanding a year long contract at a minimum. No trader wanted to get to a destination and find they needed to hire locals to move their things when the porters left, or worse, abandon some of the merchandise. The specialist roles he skipped right past. George had no clue how to cook more than the bare basics, and organizing  the whole group sounded like a nightmare. Besides, he wanted to be as unimportant to these people as possible. That left the guard positions. The vast majority of the help wanted notices were looking for guards, permanent or temporary.


    If this place was like home, monsters would be showing up at random and attacking people. George wasn¡¯t sure, but the amount of new guards needed made it seem like that was the case. His guns were still in his pack, kept clean and functional, even though he didn¡¯t have any more bullets they could use. A few notices stood out as leaving in the next couple of weeks and going into Elgin on the east coast. Going through another country would be even better for him, anyone tracking his movements would have another entire system of bureaucracy to work through. Two of them said the people hiring would be in the commission building from noon to 15th bell. Since it was a few minutes past noon, he started searching.


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    The first caravaneer was an older woman, wearing the distinctive red scarf called out in the job posting. Back to a corner she was watching him approach while surveying the entire room. George could see scars up and down her exposed arms when he got closer.


    ¡°Miss Turis, with the Turis Trading Company?¡± George attempted to look friendly and competent while he stretched out his hand to shake. He wasn¡¯t sure he exactly achieved that but there was nothing for it. ¡°I¡¯m here to discuss the guard position.¡±


    ¡°Oh you are?¡±


    The tone had George bristling. He¡¯d always been sensitive about being more wiry than obviously muscled, but he¡¯d learned magic was a great equalizer in that regard.


    ¡°I¡¯m good in a fight and have some combat experience.¡± His instinct was to mention he could help look after any animals or work with the porters as well, but he held it in. No need to seem desperate in front of the potential employer.


    Turis took his measure for a while longer before responding. ¡°I still have a few spots to fill and we¡¯re leaving in four days. There¡¯s a sparring ring out back, show me what you can do, and we¡¯ll go from there.¡±


    As promised, there was a dirt patch behind the building with a ring scratched into the ground. They entered and Turis immediately threw a punch. George dodged but she was already following up with a kick that caught him in the thigh. Not enough to do damage but enough to bring pride into play. He sent some of his now-recovered magic into his eyes. A technique that had let him fight the more elemental mages in his squad allowed him to practically dance around the regular woman in front of him. He saw an opening and ducked close, delivering a few blows to her stomach before ducking out again. He would have kept going but Turis stood and waved at him to stop.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough. You can fight.¡± The woman was only slightly out of breath, impressive for someone without any magic to speak of. ¡°I¡¯ll make it easy. I need bodies fast, so you¡¯re hired. You turn out to be working for a bandit gang or steal something, I¡¯ll hunt you down and gut you. Sound good?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it, when do we leave?¡±


    *******


    The jungle loomed over the caravan. Even with the recent maintenance on the road, the new growth hacked back for a few meters on each side, George could see tendrils of vines and other plants already reclaiming the land. It kept him on edge. He had grown up in a prairie, open skies as far as he could see. Even the forests he had seen throughout the empire were more open, less sinister than these. It didn¡¯t help that the jungle was loud. Buzzing, croaking, the ever present rustling of leaves, he felt watched, hunted.


    ¡°Hey Lassie, how¡¯s it going back here?¡± Another of the guards, Sven, wandered back to talk to him. The others used the nickname in good fun, his accent marked him as from the heart of the empire, despite how much he tried to tamp it down. Sven¡¯s use was always much more biting. It was odd, especially given his own pale skin and heavy accent revealed him to be another expat, and from much further afield than George. But he was higher in seniority, like everyone else in the caravan, so George tried not to let his annoyance show. Having practiced keeping a blank face in front of the leaders of the magehunters, someone like Sven was easy to ignore.


    ¡°Nothing to report.¡±


    Sven settled in beside him, apparently planning on joining him in the rear guard for a while. They strolled along. The mules pulling the heavily-laden carts couldn¡¯t keep a fast pace so the guards were left on foot. The last time he¡¯d been in Laskar City, a few new steam-powered vehicles had been shown off by some of the wealthier nobles, but it was a long way from an elite novelty to something an everyday trade group would use. So they had the mules, and they walked.


    At least they were well-armed. George had been provided bullets for his pistols, as well as a rifle, a machete, and a hatchet when he¡¯d shown up to the departure point. It was a relief. He had felt naked while out of ammunition, a constant itch between his shoulder blades from knowing he couldn¡¯t defend himself if needed. He might get by in a fist fight but guns were the only weapon he was really proficient with. His hands drifted there now, slung on holsters hanging from his belt. The pistols were the only thing he¡¯d taken with him when he left the magehunters, besides the clothes he¡¯d been wearing, the coins he¡¯d manage to stow away, and a magical instruction manual that was two-thirds propaganda. The way they conducted his magic was better than anything else he¡¯d ever tried. They also disliked the humidity as much as he did. Every evening he sat by the fire and meticulously disassembled them for a cleaning before wrapping in a towel to keep moisture out overnight. It was supposed to get better when they eventually turned north, but for now he was living in damp misery.


    ¡°Do you hear that?¡± Sven asked.


    George pulled his focus back to the present and strained to listen. ¡°No, what are you ¡ª¡± He cut himself off as he heard what Sven mentioned. A lull in the regular drone of the jungle let a quiet growl slip through. They kept walking, eyes forward. In his periphery, George could see Sven¡¯s hands reach for weapons as well.


    ¡°Zeb, Jor, we¡¯ve got something unfriendly on the left, get ready.¡± Sven called out to the others in the same tone he¡¯d been using, not raising his voice or making big moves. It took George a minute to catch up but when he did he gripped his guns even tighter. Anything stalking a group this big would have to be dangerous.


    Whatever it was tailed the caravan for a while before it made its move. A dark blur shot out of the forest at one of the mules. Fangs and claws were all George had time to notice before the guards leapt into action.  Multiple gunshots went off and the closest guards swung the machetes at the beast, which had turned out to be some sort of large jet-black cat. Maybe. The edges still seemed blurry, as if he couldn¡¯t quite get his eyes to focus on it. Worse, the guards machete¡¯s bounced off the hide without doing any appreciable damage. If the gunshots had hit the thing they hadn¡¯t slowed it down.


    Cycling some magic up to his eyes, George realized the cat was blazing with magic of its own. At the same moment, it stopped ravaging the mule it had attacked and looked directly at him.


    ¡°Shit,¡± he hissed out. He knew the other magehuters could tell if he was focusing on them but he didn¡¯t think a monster would feel the same. The muscles in its legs bunched as it turned to face him. Pulling out both pistols, he pushed every bit of magic into them as he got off two shots. Hopefully no one would notice the glow amid the chaos. One shot went wide as the beast lunged with a roar, the other catching it dead center through the roof of its mouth.


    He could feel the rapid beat of his heart as the cat-thing slumped to the ground a meter in front of him. The shadows that had been blurring the edges dissipated into nothing and the rest of the guards and other caravan staff gathered around.


    ¡°Enough gaping, this is the reason I hired you all in the first place. Get that thing back in the woods and get one of the spare mules hitched up. We still have a long way before the next campsite.¡± Turis¡¯s voice echoed from the front of the caravan and everyone jumped into action. George and Sven dragged the carcass into the jungle, confident it would be gone within the hour.

 Ch 54 - Recovery Time

    Laurel¡¯s eyes opened. The light said it was around midday, and she could smell lunch simmering over a nearby fire. Leander, who had been staring at her from his seat a couple meters away, fell off his chair.


    ¡°How long was I out?¡±


    A shaking hand held up 2 fingers.


    ¡°Two days?¡±


    A nod.


    ¡°Yeah, that was a good fight. Had to get close to do enough damage but it let him do a real number on me. How did the rest of the fight go?¡±


    A series of hand gestures, along with the communication stone when he wanted particular details to get across, gave her the scene. A pitched battle, with good eventually triumphing over evil, with one particularly brave young cultivator showing up at an opportune moment when all seemed lost.


    She made all the right noises to go along with the narration. It was a proud moment, hearing how her students had stepped in to fight off cultivators more powerful than them. Even if it was embellished. Her own performance had been okay, though she would need to make sparring with Martin a more regular occurrence when they returned to the city. If other high level cultivators were around, and working for whatever group had destroyed her sect in the first place, it would not do to lose her own edge. She was confident against anyone else of her level. But a grandmaster, or if Corvin had shown up with a few powerful friends? She would probably be able to escape such a fight, but anyone with her would die, and it was unlikely she would get close to winning. Unacceptable.


    Leander¡¯s rendition of their fight with the enemy cultivators only ended when Trip called over that lunch was ready. He hesitantly offered Laurel a hand up and was shocked she could walk unassisted, his arm falling limply back by his side. Two days of focused meditation could heal even the grievous wounds she had received during the fight. There would be some twinges and aches for another week or so, and no big techniques, but the damage was mostly gone. On the bright side, this would be good motivation for the rest of her students. In her experience, watching someone heal from a fatal wound was excellent inspiration for cultivation practice, only beat out by healing from a wound yourself.


    ¡°Has anyone new shown up in the last couple of days?¡± Laurel gratefully accepted the bowl from Trip and began to eat. Healing ¨C even for a master ¨C took from the body, and she was ravenous.


    ¡°Nope. Though we haven¡¯t gotten to the farthest end of the valley yet. No one wanted to camp out there overnight while you were, uh, recovering.¡±


    ¡°Good idea. What about ¨C oh, thank you Rebecca.¡± The young woman had appeared with a mug of warm liquid. A sniff told Laurel it was steeped spiritual mint, which was touching. She wasn¡¯t aware they had reached a harvestable amount back at the sect yet but their groundskeeper, Nicholas, had been hard at work on the solarium so she shouldn¡¯t have been surprised. She tossed the whole cup back immediately. The strain from the fight hadn¡¯t been entirely physical, and she could use the soothing in her spirit as well. The mint didn¡¯t do much but knowing her students both paid attention and wanted her to recover helped in its own way.


    ¡°Oh that¡¯s fantastic, is there more? Have we found anything useful in the part you¡¯ve explored?¡±


    ¡°Not much. A few more spirit beasts, and some mana-infused plants. Nothing that seemed like a natural treasure. I was going to see what happened if we took some of them but the Major strongly suggested we leave them for now. We did find one of those jade boxes on the hostiles we eliminated. Thought it might be useful but we didn¡¯t want to open it and ruin something.¡±


    ¡°Good instincts, and that reminds me.¡± Laurel fished around in her pockets until she pulled out a dull black ring. A scan with her spiritual senses showed about what she¡¯d expect a master cultivator to be carrying around. A drop of her own mana and piles of cultivation resources and creature comforts appeared behind her.


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    ¡°This is a spatial ring. It¡¯s inferior to my tattoo in every way, except that it can be used by anyone with established meridians. I¡¯ll put it in the contribution store when we get back to the sect. So use that as an incentive to work hard. More importantly, were any of the others wearing anything similar?¡±


    She began sorting through the new pile of stuff behind her. Most of it went into her own storage. The high level earth-cultivator resources would go to Martin, the rest to the communal pool of sect resources for their new members to earn. There was even a Mountain Vein. The branching object looked like the circulatory system of some strange animal, and it could be absorbed by earth cultivators to strengthen their internal mana system¡¯s infusion of the heart and blood. The result was a magical mineral that made the body naturally resist damage, patching veins and arteries when pierced. Laurel was sure there were a host of other uses as well but most of her research in the past was on things that let you win fights.


    ¡°No rings. There were a few objects containing mana but they seemed more like your glow stones or fire starter than the ring. More quality of life items than anything truly powerful. At least, from what we could tell.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take a look this evening.¡± Before she went back to sorting, she had another thought. ¡°Wait, what about the guy we found ruining the Miner¡¯s Fortune? Did you kill him too or is he stashed somewhere?¡±


    It was Rebecca who answered. ¡°He¡¯s alive. There¡¯s one more. We didn¡¯t have another set of the bracelets you had so we¡¯ve been dosing them with sleeping powder.¡±


    ¡°You know how to make a sleeping powder? You thought to bring the ingredients for that but not a fire starter?¡±


    The younger woman looked off to the side. ¡°Sometimes it¡¯s good to be able to put someone to sleep.¡±


    Every time Laurel got more insight into the young woman¡¯s past she became enraged, but now was not the time to push for more details. ¡°Well if they¡¯re sleeping, now¡¯s as good a time as any to see what they know.¡± The four of them made their way over to where two men were lying on makeshift pallets.


    ¡°Okay, first let me say, invading someone¡¯s thoughts is an extreme violation of personal autonomy. We only do something like this to people who have tried to kill us. Also remind me to teach you how mental shields work. The only reason I can do this is because these two are terribly trained. As cultivators of the Eternal Archive, your thoughts should be secure even while unconscious.¡±


    With that, she knelt between the sleeping cultivators and touched a hand to either forehead. A strand of her own mana pushed into both of them and she was awash in memories. She let her mind relax. That was the real key to any technique like this. Absorbing all the information was impossible, but the mind was a powerful tool. It would sort the important information out and ignore the rest. Imperfect, maybe, but better than crawling through the entire lives of these two, moment by moment.


    She resurfaced and walked back to the fire pit before discussing what she¡¯d learned.


    ¡°They¡¯re definitely from Laskar. The emperor there forces anyone found to have a gift for magic into working for the government. I think we sort of knew that but it¡¯s good to confirm. These two were part of a group of cultivators that hunted down and ¡®recruited¡¯ others until Corvin ¨C the guy in the robe ¨C collected them for this mission. That explains why their cultivation is all over the place. They don¡¯t really know why they were doing anything and they didn¡¯t like Corvin.¡±


    They spent a pleasant afternoon at the camp, waiting for the others to return. Laurel slowly stretched her spirit as she would a muscle that had been cramping, getting her mana flows back up to speed. An hour was spent walking the others through some cultivation exercises. The rest was cataloging what Corvin had in his storage ring and debating what to do with their prisoners. Leander was advocating for dropping them somewhere in the ocean, but she wasn¡¯t sure such a direct death sentence was the right way forward. Killing in battle was acceptable. Killing weak prisoners in cold blood while they slept was something else.


    ********


    The others returned empty handed as the sun was setting. They were all pleased to see Laurel up and about, and the revelations of the last few days were shared around.


    ¡°Corvin was working for whoever sealed the world off from mana originally, at least that was what he taunted me with. Something about a new world order, and we need to get in line. I¡¯m not sure what¡¯s going on in Laskar but we should be concerned.¡±


    ¡°Concerned enough to abort the mission?¡± Kat¡¯s sharp eyes had cut to the heart of the matter. ¡°If it¡¯s that big a deal, should we get word back as quickly as possible?¡±


    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t abort the mission. If we can turn Verilia into a World Capital in the cultivation sense, they won¡¯t be able to seal off the cosmic mana flows, they¡¯ll be too deeply anchored. To do that we¡¯ll need a robust mana matrix bolstered by natural treasures. If we stop now, we¡¯re giving them time to stop us.¡±


    They all thought to themselves for a few moments until Maria came out with her opinion. ¡°Look, we all knew war with Laskar was on the horizon. The king knows the magic situation, and the council is smart enough to realize there will be more magic users in other countries to account for. I say we continue the mission.¡±


    No one had a better argument so it was decided they would continue on their original plan, though the next time they were near a city with a Meristan base they would try to get word back.


    ¡°We have a plan then,¡± Laurel said. ¡°We spend the next couple of days clearing out the valley and finishing up here, and then we move on. I have two further suggestions. First, for the prisoners, I say take them somewhere in the wilderness and let them off. It''s up to them what they do from there, but I don¡¯t think they have any information that is too terrible to spread if they do survive and make it back to Laskar.¡± This sparked some back and forth but was ultimately agreed upon. No one wanted to be an executioner.


    Leander held up two fingers in the obvious follow up question. Laurel patted his shoulder and continued. ¡°The second is that I think it''s time you all,¡± she pointed to the cultivators, ¡°burn in your mana pathways. You¡¯ve reached a level of sufficient control, and the mana here is dense enough to make the process easier. And as much as I hate rushing a cultivation journey, if we run into more Laskarians, I don¡¯t want you all fighting at a disadvantage.¡±

 Ch 55 - Prime Meridians

    Martin stood next to the pedestal of the City Core, in the sect rotunda. Couches and chairs had been dragged to form a semicircle, where the members of the sect were currently gathered. Adam and Annette were front and center, along with Cooper, Helene, Gabrielle, and Eric. Students had trickled in after the initial recruitment efforts and had been diligently cultivating ever since. Newer members sat further back. They had joined after hearing about the sect from the various newspapers around the city, once they passed Annette¡¯s vetting process. Those were still working on sustaining active cultivation, and weren¡¯t ready for this next lesson. He figured if he did the lecture once and let them sit in, it would be a while before he had to do it again. And there was nothing like watching others burn their meridians into their bodies to make sure novices didn¡¯t get it into their heads to do it on their own.


    Esther joined them with a cart full of snacks and two types of tea. She distributed the drinks, carefully handing pre-poured cups to the front row and passing down some towel-wrapped tea pots for the rest. When everyone was settled Martin started in on the lecture he had memorized from his own youth.


    ¡°Drink up while I explain. The entire cup. It tastes disgusting but it will help you comprehend your internal mana flows. You¡¯ll be grateful for it when we start the process.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we use it all the time then?¡± Cooper had been a university student, and Martin found that meant he asked the same amount of questions as a curious child figuring out the world for the first time.


    ¡°Because it''s an addictive hallucinogen. Now, back to what I was saying. Mana moves around everything in the world. There are cosmic flows linking our world to the greater universe, flows around and through the world itself, and flows within every living thing. As cultivators we use our will to leverage this mana to do whatever it is we want. Right now you all can move your mana around your bodies, and sense mana outside of you. Some of you can push your mana out into the world. Once ¨C¡±


    ********


    ¡°-- you burn your meridians in, you will be able to use your own mana to interact and control the ambient mana all around us. This is how we create the external effects of our techniques. Think lightning swords and things like that. They will also allow mana to circulate all the time, instead of only when you¡¯re focusing on it. It is a foundation. Later you¡¯ll be working to increase the speed or refine the paths, eventually infusing your entire body.¡±


    Laurel looked down at her students from where she was pacing. They were gathered around the fire pit, sitting on logs that had been dragged back to camp to use for seating. Tin mugs were cupped in each set of hands as they forced the disgusting brew down. Even so many decades later, Laurel still gagged at the scent of atrician mushrooms. Knowing this was a likelihood on the mission, she had packed enough of the revolting powder for everyone.


    The forest wasn¡¯t ideal for this. They would all be dead to the world for a few hours as their pathways were created, and hard earth wasn¡¯t the most comforting. At least the valley was about as safe as possible. All of her portable formations were set out and she had flown around the entire valley before starting the explanation, confirming there were no other cultivators, or anyone else, lurking about. Having never led anyone through the process before, she channeled the same lectures as the masters who taught her as a child.


    ¡°It¡¯s important not to force it. Trip, I know when you cultivate, the mana concentrates in your hands in a sort of web. Rebecca, Leander, you¡¯ve got the larger veins going into each limb. These are both fairly common. The worst thing you can do is try and force your mana where it doesn¡¯t want to go naturally. Eventually you¡¯ll have a mana network closer to mine, infusing every part of your body. Trying to do so without your first set of meridians will be, well, it probably won¡¯t kill you. It will definitely set your cultivation back though, and it will feel like you died.¡±


    ¡°In a few minutes, you¡¯ll start circulating your mana. First, you¡¯ll get into a steady cultivation state, observing the pattern. Then you¡¯ll use a mental spark to ¨C¡±


    *******


    ¡°-- ignite the flow. Hand down Cooper, no it''s not real fire. That¡¯s just the best way to visualize it. You¡¯re forcing the mana to anchor to your physical body. This will be easy, your mana wants existing paths to flow through, rather than recreating them each time you cultivate, like you¡¯re doing now.¡±


    The entire room had blanched at this last part of the explanation. Martin leaned forward and nudged Annette to keep drinking her potion. Stars above, Laurel better get back soon because he was never doing this again. Or maybe Adam or Cooper would like giving the theoretical lectures once they had a bit more experience under their belt. They went off on tangents sometimes about book sorting systems so it wasn¡¯t outside the realm of possibility.


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    ¡°The most important thing to remember about the process is to keep cultivating. It will hurt. A lot. Until one of you gets strong enough for a spatial tattoo, it will be far and away the most excruciating experience of your lives. That¡¯s the price of power. Everyone else, pay attention. There is no shortcut for this process if you don¡¯t want to stunt your future growth.


    ¡°You all came to the sect for different reasons. We don¡¯t judge those, or ask for details. If you want to leave right now, you can do so with our blessing. But once you do this, you are truly on the road of cultivation as a member of the Eternal Archive ¨C.¡±


    *********


    ¡°-- with all the privileges and perils that entails. Trip, Reina, Reynard, I¡¯ve very much enjoyed having you as students. But as guests and not official sect members, your training from me ends after this. You will be welcome to apply to the library to study further techniques we have stored there, though depending on the technique that will require some service to the sect.


    ¡°Any last questions?¡± No one asked. The children looked firm in their convictions, the way only young people can. She hoped that was out of loyalty and not fear of being stranded. The soldiers were more apprehensive, but none balked at the step.


    ¡°Get to it then. I¡¯ll be here watching but you¡¯ll be focused internally and won¡¯t notice us for a few hours at least. Relax into the effects of the tea and start cultivating.¡±


    She watched as eyes closed and breathing rhythms evened out. There was nothing left she could do to help, every cultivator had to cross this hurdle in their own way.


    ********


    Leander was dying. He must have done the bad thing Laurel told him not to. Every part of his body was on fire. At the same time he could see the mana moving through him. The colors were speaking to him but he couldn¡¯t understand what they were saying. He saw rivers flowing from his heart to his hands and feet. They were changing. Getting more real somehow. But it was so slow, and he would be turned to ash before then. He kept trying though. Laurel had said he couldn¡¯t stop cultivating, so he wouldn¡¯t. Instead he focused on the other thing she said. If he got through this then he would be a real member of the sect, who couldn¡¯t leave or be sent away.


    *********


    Adam was dying. He hadn¡¯t believed Martin, though the man never lied, as far as he could tell. But surely nothing could be worse than his spontaneous aspecting during the trial. Wrong. So, so wrong. Distantly, he could feel his body convulsing on the couch. There was no time to pay attention to that as he watched his mana creep up towards his brain. He wanted to stop it, you can¡¯t let any unexplainable mystical force slither into your head. But he held on by a thread. He had clawed his way off the streets and into polite society, only to be kicked back out after a simple mistake. Stopping now would mean starting over and he had no desire to waste the second chance he had already been given.


    *******


    Martin watched the flailing sect members in front of him. The screams had mostly stopped, they¡¯d either gone hoarse already or were so removed from the physical that even their subconscious couldn¡¯t make noise any more. A brief check confirmed they were all still breathing at least, and holding their cultivation. Everyone else had left the rotunda. It was difficult watching your friends scream and writhe in agony, Martin didn¡¯t begrudge them fleeing from the sight. He would stay. The whole point of a sect was that there were others around to show support, even when they couldn¡¯t do anything to help.


    ¡°How long will they be like this?¡± The question came from Esther. Martin was surprised she had come back. Once the screams started the formidable woman had hustled Lucy out of the room like a bowshot.


    ¡°A few hours. If you could have the spiritual mint steeping they¡¯ll be eternally grateful.¡±


    ¡°Of course. Of course.¡± The matron was wringing her hands, lingering with more to say. He waited for her to come to it, they had time, after all. He might play the brash cultivator but he still had the patience of a century-old master when he needed to.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I can let my daughter go through something like that.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not alone. I think there¡¯s a good reason sects end up with so many orphans. Or children from rich families whose parents want or need the prestige but don¡¯t know the realities of cultivating. It¡¯s a difficult thing to point someone you care about down a path that you know holds danger and pain.


    ¡°Know this: neither you nor Lucy will ever be forced to leave the sect, whether or not you choose to pursue cultivation. This is your home, and I know I speak for Laurel as well when I say we are happy for you to be here. Saying that, if Lucy comes to us and asks to learn how to cultivate, we¡¯ll be honor-bound to teach her.¡±


    Esther frowned slightly but gave Martin a pat on the shoulder anyway. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Enough heavy stuff. As though the sect wouldn¡¯t riot if you and your baking ever decided to leave. Today is a happy occasion, gross as it is to watch. Tonight they¡¯ll rest but tomorrow we¡¯ll celebrate!¡±


    ********


    ¡°Yeah, not sure how many army recruits we¡¯re going to get to sign up for that.¡± Kat was puffing on a cigar as they all watched the new cultivators shivering and shaking on the ground. Laurel had put pillows and blankets beneath them but that only did so much.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I¡¯ve met a few people in my day that would jump on the chance to take the pain if it means they can breathe fire or something,¡± Maria said.


    ¡°As disturbing as that is, I¡¯m inclined to agree. Power always draws those willing to do anything to seek it,¡± Laurel said.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, you think my thought¡¯s disturbing and then come out with that?¡±


    Instead of answering, Laurel pulled a small table and a game board out of her tattoo and set it up on the opposite side of the fire from the still occasionally thrashing cultivators. ¡°Anyone up for a game of byd?¡±


    They stayed awake into the evening, waiting for their friends and charges to wake up. Rebecca was first. She bolted upright with a gasp, then a whimper as her whole body and soul protested the quick movement. Laurel repaid the girl''s kindness from the previous day by handing over a tea made from her own stores of spiritual mint.


    ¡°Drink. Nothing will take away the pain entirely. But this will at least let you fall asleep for the worst of it. I¡¯m proud of you, well done.¡± Her voice was low to avoid agitating Rebecca¡¯s headache, but she saw a flinch at the noise. The girl gratefully slurped down the tea and then crawled to her tent. The process repeated with the others and everyone went to rest for the evening while Laurel kept watch.

 Ch 56 - The Real Treasure is Friendship

    The next morning birdsong was replaced with more groans and moans as Laurel¡¯s first students struggled to the campfire for breakfast. She sympathized. They would be walking lightly for the next week, but they had gotten over the worst of it. Having been up for hours already for some light bladework practice, she passed out breakfast and laid out the plan for the day.


    ¡°We need to see what¡¯s at the other end of the valley. There¡¯s at least one or two treasures we should take a look at before moving on. Based on everyone¡¯s top speed we¡¯ll need to camp around halfway down overnight. I could fly all the way there and pick things up, but part of this whole mission is to teach the harvesting techniques to you all while it¡¯s safe to do so. So I propose the cultivators head down, and everyone else stays and keeps a watch here.¡±


    The cultivators wore identical stricken looks when they heard they wouldn¡¯t get the day off.


    ¡°I¡¯ll back that plan,¡± Kat announced. Any remaining hope they had was crushed with that final blow.


    Leander got her attention with a few gestures and words from his communication stone.


    ¡°Yes, I will deal with any spirit beasts this time.¡±


    *********


    The first day¡¯s hike was uneventful. While Laurel had been healing, the others had found the easiest path down the sloping valley. It would have been a perfect vista if not for the large swath devastated by a battle between master cultivators, which they edged around. Conversation was sparse as everyone except Laurel focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Laurel was content with that; she was pushing them and as long as they did what was needed she wouldn¡¯t begrudge them a little grumbling. Leander in particular was glaring daggers at her back. The first spirit beast that they happened upon had been terrified when Laurel flared her cultivation. It ran away, as did every other spirit beast they came across, without any fighting at all. She put it down to another hidden bonus of being sectmaster.


    They stopped for the evening in the lee of  one of the larger remnants of the fallen city. Protected from the wind and roaming eyes, a hasty camp came together. It had been a long, hard day for most of them and they couldn¡¯t muster the motivation for much more than a small fire and rolling out their sleeping pads.


    ¡°You should all cultivate a bit before bed.¡±


    ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t helping us any more.¡± Reynard was usually affable, but even his mood had been tested being asked to go on a high pressure hike after creating his meridians.


    ¡°This is basic enough that I can share it. The day after an intense workout you might massage or gently stretch your muscles. This is the same thing. The mana should already be flowing through your meridians, try and push it a little faster while you meditate for a while, then go to bed. I¡¯ll keep watch tonight.¡±


    That last promise was enough to get everyone to forgive her for most of the day¡¯s torment as they followed her advice and then went to sleep. When they woke up the next morning there was a marked improvement in attitude that she knew was directly correlated to the state of their meridians. Reynard even came over and apologized for snapping the day before.


    She put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Reynard, earlier this week a man did his best to kill me while throwing my worst fears in my face. A snippy comment here or there doesn¡¯t even register.¡±


    With that they were off. The valley had been sloping down from their lake-side camp, and they were far enough away now that the view of the top was blocked by the rise and the jagged rocks sticking out of the earth at odd angles. There was a flavor to the ambient mana Laurel couldn¡¯t quite identify. Her memories of the place told her it should be some combination of air and earth, but that was obviously not the case. Air, she was intimately familiar with, and earth, while present, was not dominating the local mana landscape.


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    Almost lost in thought, she didn¡¯t react in her usual manner when some small animal dared out of the brush nearby. Instead of flaring her mana or something else to mess with Leander, she punted the animal back the way it came. She kept walking for a few steps but realized everyone else had stopped.


    ¡°Did you kick a dog?¡± Rebecca sounded horrified.


    ¡°What? No it was some sort of stone fox thing. You all would never have gotten through its skin, you¡¯re welcome.¡± Seeing they weren¡¯t convinced she added, ¡°Unless you all want to go back to dealing with the spirit beasts yourselves?¡±


    That got them moving and they continued down the basin. Now the formerly floating rocks were large enough it was easier for them to climb up the sides and walk over them than try to go around each one.


    ¡°Try reaching out with your spiritual senses. You¡¯ll find everything much easier to feel now that your mana is constantly flowing.  They did as she asked, murmuring at the difference.


    ¡°Why does everything feel heavy?¡± Reina asked.


    ¡°Yes, Gravity, that''s it!¡± Laurel shouted. ¡°Ahem. I mean, the ambient mana has a gravity aspect. The trauma, for lack of a better word, of everything crashing out of the sky was enough to leave an impression in the local mana. When levels started to rise, a gravity attuned natural treasure formed, which is what we¡¯re going towards. Keep an eye on your breathing, if it starts getting difficult let me know.¡±


    ¡°Umm, are we going to put something in the city that makes it harder to breathe?¡±


    ¡°Not a bad question, Reynard. Short answer is no. Long answer is that I¡¯m not sure if this one will go to the city or the sect, but if it does go to the city, the effect will only be positive. So it might make it impossible for enemies to fly in, or we could use it to direct enough mana to a single spot to cause a hidden realm to appear, or something else, who knows.¡±


    The confirmation that the goal was at hand spurred the group on. Moving at a slightly faster hobble, they hurried downhill. Right before midday they reached the lowest area and the widest fallen platform. Here was true evidence that a city had once existed that defied belief. Ruins sprawled across the rock. This had been where the City Core was anchored, the heart of the then-ruling sect. Even the intervening centuries hadn¡¯t been enough to entirely erode the elegance of the stonework, or the intricate artistry of the friezes that had adorned the buildings. Sparkling reflections showed where some gemstone or piece of untarnished metal remained, between the crumbling stone.


    The band of cultivators climbed over the rubble, carefully dodging piles of crushed glass still lingering in corners the wind and rain couldn¡¯t reach. Laurel wasn¡¯t surprised the natural treasure was in the sect house. The connection to the City Core would have made it the area of most concentrated mana in the city. She slowed, letting her students go in ahead of her. It was remarkably similar to visiting the remains of her own sect. There, the mana hadn¡¯t yet flooded back into the world, triggering the rapid growth of natural treasures. She had also been alone. Laurel took a moment to look at each of her students, feeling their cultivation with her own. The last years had been a trial she was in no way prepared for. It was all worth it.


    They were close enough now that even her newly-minted initiates could feel the pull. She let them lead the way, testing out their new ability to interact with the magic in the world. Laurel followed them to an empty room. The ceiling was still intact, and she could see why. The infusion of mana over centuries had turned the building into a single piece of stone. Even the entire island crashing down hadn¡¯t been enough to shatter this room, and centuries of weathering hadn¡¯t yet eroded the structure. She meandered up behind Leander, the only of her students shorter than her, and took a look at the object they were gathered around.


    ¡°Huh.¡±


    An obsidian disk was lying on the floor. The light warped around it in strange ways, like the whole room and space itself was leaning in. A faint blue spiral started on the edge of  the disk, and wound around and around until it reached the center and went down, somehow, while staying in the same plane.


    ¡°Who wants to do the honors?¡±


    None of them would make eye contact with her. In fact, all of them inched slightly away from the thing on the ground between them. Leander was the unlucky one with nowhere to go. Both hands came down on his shoulders and gave a soft shake.


    ¡°Thanks for volunteering, Leander. Now, remember what I told you and get in there. Do you have one of the boxes?¡±


    His shoulders slumped as he opened his pack, removing the harvesting knife and box. Kneeling he felt along the edges as Laurel had shown him. Having the whole team practice on various plants they had come across on the journey was paying off. His hands were shaking but he took a deep breath and forced them to relax. Laurel approved. When he was ready, Leander moved with confidence. Knife sliding under the disk, he carefully detached it from the ground and slid it into the box. Then he slammed the lid and took four large steps back.


    ¡°Well done! And there¡¯s not even a horrific sea creature lurking around so I think you have the best harvest so far.¡±


    ¡°Yup, good job kiddo. Now we just have to climb all the way back to the top. Unless our lovely and supportive teacher would like to teach us all how to fly, now that we can use external techniques,¡± Reynard said.


    Laurel burst into laughter. After a minute of wheezing she had calmed down enough to answer. ¡°Excellent effort, but you all are still years away from a movement technique like that. Flying is complicated, you¡¯ll need to aspect yourself to some concept that makes it easier or spend years and years practicing. You might be at a point where you can run faster though. Not too fast or you¡¯ll rip your legs apart, but faster than normal.¡±


    With that pronouncement they all started the hike back up the valley. Laurel letting out little giggles occasionally along the way.

 Ch 57 - Role Models

    ¡°I¡¯ve marked the places on your maps. Wear the beacon stones around your neck at all times. You have money, make sure to keep it in more than one place. I¡¯ve done some research on reputable inns in the towns you¡¯ll be passing through and the neighborhoods to avoid. Let¡¯s go through the pack one more time¨C¡± Annette¡¯s monologue halted when Martin stepped in.


    ¡°Listen kids. You¡¯re going on your first adventure. It will be fun and you¡¯ll make some mistakes, just do your best to complete the mission and get back in one piece.¡±


    ¡°Ahem, and pick up copies of any magic training resources they have if you can get away with it,¡± Adam added. ¡°This is the Eternal Archive and we¡¯ve not been archiving nearly enough.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Martin pointed at Adam to emphasize the point. ¡°Any new knowledge you bring back or any cultivation resources are yours, or you can sell them back to the sect for contribution points. Now get out there, time¡¯s wasting. Helene and Gabrielle, we booked you on a ship going to Nordisk now that the northern sea is more passable; Cooper, Eric, you¡¯re starting on a stagecoach down south. From there it¡¯s up to you how you want to travel.


    ¡°Take notes, keep your eyes open, and good luck,¡± Martin finished, pleased with his little speech.


    The four youths in front of them looked daunted, but he stood and started towards the door in the hopes of getting them moving. Annette had been mothering the children for an hour already. Sweet as it was, he couldn¡¯t take much more. He herded them all out of the meeting room and into the city before the other officers could slow them down. Adam was more subdued about it than Annette, but Martin had still seen him slip a few extra coins into the packs.


    When they were out and walking towards their respective transportation he let out a breath. ¡°A bit less bold than I would hope for at this stage of the journey, but we haven¡¯t had them for long. We¡¯ll make adventurers out of them eventually. Especially when they see what Leander and Rebecca get home with.¡±


    ¡°You seem remarkably unbothered with sending the young people we have a responsibility to out on their own with barely any training.¡± Annette was standing ramrod straight. Martin had noticed her posture got better the more stressed she was.


    ¡°Imagine doing this 1000 years ago without such an easy time getting around.¡± He shuffled closer to give Annette a side-hug. ¡°They need challenges if they are ever going to grow. And we need them to grow.¡±


    The reminder of growing international unrest was a downer. But Annette returned his embrace, showing she appreciated the reasoning, if nothing else.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she sniffed. ¡°Let¡¯s go discuss the art then.¡±


    **********


    The Lapis district was the perfect mix between fashionable and undiscovered. The kind of place a certain set of young people hoarded knowledge of in order to impress their peers. Clean streets, but with rents that were still affordable. For now. Trees and gardens along with the occasional graffiti, and even that was tasteful. Annette ambled along the path designated for foot traffic, noting someone had come along and cleared some of the late snow they¡¯d been receiving. Her destination was on the corner lot, a classic three story townhouse, painted a rather scandalous shade of red. The moment she raised her hand to ring the bell, a smartly dressed servant opened the door and ushered her into a studio. Annette¡¯s steps faltered for a moment when inside she found a woman staring intently at a blank canvas while a mostly naked man held a pose on a pedestal in the center of the room.


    ¡°Take a seat, I¡¯ll be with you soon.¡± The woman gestured vaguely at the mismatched couches and armchairs lining the room.


    Annette took a seat. She was well-versed in the practice of making a potential opponent off kilter with something outrageous, and had no intentions of falling into the trap more than she already had. It was a sloppy assumption that because her sect was not in the same economic sector as Madame Charon¡¯s guild that the other woman would not seek to take advantage anyway. Ignoring the man as he transitioned poses, Annette instead studied the painter. Slate gray hair pulled back into a tight bun to avoid trailing through the paint. Loose clothes, with the hem of her pants rolled up and the sleeves pushed above the elbow, along with an apron so covered in paint stains Annette could not have said what the original color might have been.


    When there was no further comments from the older woman, Annette settled in to wait. At least here there was a show, unlike the merchants thinking themselves clever by leaving her in an empty sitting room.


    An hour later Annette was enraptured. Madam Charon had elevated the act of painting itself to an art form, her graceful figure moving around the canvas in a slow dance. The angle Annette was sitting allowed her to see the canvas become more and more lifelike with the tiniest application of color.


    Dropping her brushes into a jar of water, Madam Charon turned and beckoned Annette to follow her back out of the room.


    ¡°You¡¯re patient, if nothing else. I respect that in a young woman so I¡¯ll tell you what you want to know. Burton here will show you to the sitting room and I¡¯ll be right back once I¡¯ve changed.¡±


    With that abrupt proclamation, the silent servant returned and led Annette over to a well-appointed sitting room, complete with tea service and snacks. Her host swept back into the room and Annette refused to give the initiative up for a third time.


    ¡°Madam Charon, thank you for the opportunity to watch you work. It was sublime.¡±


    ¡°Not at all my dear, and do call me Elisette.¡± The older woman was now draped in an effortless gown of sky blue silk. She poured tea for both Annette and herself before lounging on a couch. ¡°Shall we get to the reason you¡¯re here, besides hanging around my studio?¡±


    ¡°Of course. I was hoping you would tell me a bit about why you decided to start the Conclave for Visual Arts. From what I¡¯ve been able to find out you were quite successful without it.¡±


    Elisette sipped her tea and subjected Annette to a long silence. ¡°I was a bit older than you are now. I was making enough to live on, but only barely. More established artists would undercut my bids for commissioned pieces, and since I didn¡¯t study at one of the known schools, it was impossible to get my art to a wider audience, or a more prestigious one at least.


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    ¡°I started the Conclave as both a protection, and to break the hold those stuffy old men had on the art scene. But why do you ask? Forgive me, but you are not an artist my dear, I can spot the type from a block away.¡±


    It was Annette¡¯s turn to carefully consider her new opponent. Her first instinct was to dissemble and give a truthful but misleading response. But something about Elisette Charon made Annette want the woman for an ally. She decided instead to follow Laurel¡¯s usual advice and trust her instincts.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, I¡¯m not an artist. Have you heard about the new magic organization in the Flats?¡± Elisette sat up straighter, now entirely riveted by Annette¡¯s tale. ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a yes. I¡¯m a member and one of the leaders of the organization. We are interested in starting a guild for magic users, to ensure we will be treated fairly. You may have heard about the recent trial. Despite having full permission of the relevant authorities for our work, and altruistically providing training and information to members of the military, we ended up forced to give a certain amount of concessions.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, so you¡¯re looking at the most recently established guilds to get ideas? Not a bad path forward, but how are you going to handle the appreciable portion of the industry? My understanding is your school, or whatever it is, doesn¡¯t have that many members yet.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve sent some of our other members to make contact with the most well known groups of magic users in the country, along with anyone else they can find.¡±


    ¡°You think that will work. We aren¡¯t as intolerant as Laskar, or as superstitious as Elgin, but magic users for the most part have stayed out of the public eye. It might not be so easy to convince people to take on the risks.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t know until we try,¡± Annette said. ¡°Any advice you¡¯re willing to share would help.¡±


    They were interrupted by Burton bringing in a tray with some additional sweets and another pot of tea, which he swapped out with all the care of a classically trained butler. Elisette waited until he had left before turning back to Annette.


    ¡°You¡¯ll need to offer something they need to get them to join.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how familiar you are with our other leaders, but we have quite a bit to entice the average magic user. And since the government is going to rely more on them in coming years to protect smaller towns and villages, getting some leverage will be a large draw, I think.¡±


    The women went back to discussing the pitfalls of trying to establish a new institution in a country already filled with those not wanting to cede any power. In the end Annette invited Madam Charon for a private tour of the sect house, and Elisette tipped Annette off to a new gallery opening in a couple of weeks. Annette left thinking she might have found the mentor figure missing in the merchant companies and noble houses she¡¯d worked in before the sect.


    ********


    ¡°Stop dragging your feet, I don¡¯t want to be late.¡± Martin turned to look at Adam where he was loitering five meters behind him, shoulders hunched with a miserable expression on his face.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why you dragged me here at all. I don¡¯t know anything about art.¡±


    ¡°Art is about feeling, not knowing. Besides, someone has to make sure you see fresh air and other people every once in a while.¡± He tempered that criticism with a smile and a gentle bump of shoulders as Adam came up alongside him. ¡°I wanted you here with me.¡±


    ¡°It will be fun! Anyway, Annette wants us to make a good impression on her new friend so get the scowl off your face and loosen up.¡±


    ¡°You just want a good deal on decorations.¡±


    ¡°I admit, my sad, empty walls have been getting to me lately. There was an artist in the old sect that could actually imbue effects into his paintings. I bought one off him that made sleep more restful, and another for my cultivation chamber that encouraged concentration. I¡¯m curious to see how styles have evolved since we were put away.¡±


    ¡°We should get one of our students to work on the increasing concentration thing. We could use a few of those.¡±


    ¡°Ha! Good luck. He was one of the sect elders and a four-hundred year-old grandmaster. His Master¡¯s capstone was a defensive mural around the entire city wall that controlled the level of beast that would attack each section during the waves. It¡¯s something to aspire to, though.¡±


    Both men walked up the stairs and entered an airy room. There were a few short pedestals holding sculpture dotted throughout at regular intervals, with the walls ringed in paintings ranging from realistic portraits to abstract blurs of color. Uniformed waitstaff circulated, holding trays of sparkling wine for guests. Martin plucked two flutes off the nearest such tray and passed one to Adam, leading him over to the left to start their survey of the art on display. They stopped in front of an abstract piece, shades of red slashed across a blue-gray background.


    ¡°How does this one make you feel?¡±


    ¡°Hungry,¡± Adam said.


    Martin whipped his head around to stare at Adam, aghast.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I missed dinner.¡±


    With a small chuckle, Martin signaled a passing waiter. He slipped him a tip and asked to make sure the snacks being brought around started with a detour towards the two of them. They moved on to the next piece. It was a massive undersea scene, taking up a third of the long wall. The foreground was filled with bright fish swimming through the dappled sunlight that filtered through the water. It should have been cheery, but there was a sense of menace to it; a pair of dark eyes lurking in the depths, staring back at them, seeming to follow their movements as they wandered the gallery.


    ¡°This one is creepy,¡± Adam said. He plucked one of the passing shrimp toasts as he looked at the painting.


    ¡°It is, I like it though.¡± Martin¡¯s eyesight was good enough to read the placard from where they were standing. ¡°It sounds like the artists are local too. We should check out their studio sometime, see if we could get a commissioned piece for the sect entryway, if work on this scale is their specialty.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me.¡± An elegant older woman approached them as they had moved on to yet another abstract piece, a pattern of almost glowing blue lines outlined in black and white. ¡°Are you Annette¡¯s friends?¡±


    Adam grunted around his cheese and pastry parcel while Martin smiled. ¡°We are yes, Madam Charon I take it?¡±


    ¡°The one and only. I¡¯m glad you could come see the exhibition. Some of our newest up-and-comers took the opportunity to showcase their talents. If you¡¯ll allow me, I think you might appreciate our centerpiece on the opposite wall.¡±


    ¡°Lead on,¡± Martin said as he deftly transferred his empty glass for a full one from a passing waiter. They drew eyes as they crossed the room, which Martin ascribed to being in the presence of the guild founder and legendary painter Annette had made friends with last week. It felt as if the room collectively held their breath as the three of them approached the canvas.


    Martin burst into laughter as soon as it came into focus, barely avoiding spraying his companions with wine. It took Adam a few more steps before he paused, slack-jawed, and began blushing furiously. Madam Charon grinned at their reactions.


    ¡°It¡¯s great!¡± Martin proclaimed.


    The three of them walked closer to examine the details. Another large-scale work, it was a wide landscape, from the point of view of someone standing in the harbor. The palace hovered in the top right, above and aloof from the rest of the scene. The entirety of the city was picked out in painstaking detail, cascading all the way down to the Flats across the right-hand third. The remainder of the painting was dominated by a coral leviathan staring down a singular figure, floating as a guardian between the wild monster and civilization. Planes and ships dotted the storm-tossed waters of the background while a crescent of lightning seemed to cut the picture in half. Languid brush strokes in bright colors and a cloudless sky over the city transitioned into the choppy melee of battle. It was a masterful piece and Martin had to own it.


    ¡°I love it. We should hang this in the sect, Laurel will hate it. Her face when she gets back and sees it will be perfect.¡± This shocked Adam out of his stupor and he chuckled nervously along.


    ¡°The artist will be happy to hear you appreciate it. If you¡¯re serious about buying it I can introduce you another time. The poor girl has a gift but she doesn¡¯t like the crowds at these events.¡±


    ¡°If you think she might be willing to accept payment in terms of magical favors or knick knacks, I¡¯ll take you up on that.¡±


    ¡°She just might. Or perhaps more magical subject material. The dear thing was absolutely enchanted by the stories coming out of the trial.¡±


    They¡¯d monopolized the centerpiece for a time so they moved away. Martin took the opportunity to scan the entire room, something he¡¯d tried to avoid earlier to keep the surprise of each piece intact.


    ¡°They all relate to the attack on the city?¡±


    ¡°Yes. This exhibition is one of several the Conclave puts on throughout the year. We give them a topic three months in advance and see what the members can come up with. It keeps the whole society fresh and lets some of our lesser known members have a spotlight.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea for us.¡± Adam had apparently decided to join in the conversion at last. ¡°We could have skill showcases every once in a while.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, that would be a good idea. We had tournaments and other skill exhibitions in the sect when I was younger. It was more for internal recognition than external, but adapting some of that for visitors would be useful.¡± Martin gave a short bow of thanks towards Madam Charon for what he was sure was intentional prodding.


    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you boys to enjoy the rest of the show.¡± With that, she sailed off to chat with another group.


    ¡°I think that woman might be terrifying,¡± Adam said.


    ¡°On that, we agree.¡±

 Ch 58 - Welcome to the Jungle

    Their journey from the mountains to the jungle had been boring. Not like fighting the bad guys in the valley, that was awesome once Laurel woke up and everything was fine again. Just more flying over the middle of nowhere. Laurel had found another thing a few days ago they had stopped for. Something about a rock never being in shadow absorbing sunlight. Leander hadn¡¯t paid as much attention because Laurel made Rebecca harvest that one instead of him. Now they had reached the jungle. Laurel said they were fair enough south that it was never winter here, though that didn¡¯t make any sense. He had gone along with it anyway. After all, he could tell the air here was wet and hot. Magic probably made it that way and they would find some awful magic rock that made everything sweaty forever.


    They landed the planes and camped on an open area, and somehow the weather was even worse down on the ground. Maybe because there was no wind. Bugs and animals made the whole place loud in a way he¡¯d never heard before. He knew the bustle of city dwellers going about their day. There was no rhythm or pattern he could pick out in this place, noise on top of noise on top of noise. A hand coming down on one of his shoulders made him jump.


    ¡°Try focusing on one thing. That¡¯s how I got over the noises the planes make.¡± Trip gave him a smile and urged him towards where Laurel and Kat were looking at a paper map, while Laurel¡¯s magic version hovered above them.


    ¡°The mana is denser the farther in we go, but there won¡¯t be anywhere to land the planes.¡± Laurel was tracing lines towards the center of a big green area on the map.


    ¡°Eh, we can get closer than you think. The Oudigans run regular patrols to keep the roads clear, in case they have to move people fast. If we get creative we can take it close enough to only need to hike a day or two off the roads.¡± Kat was pointing out the roads with an unlit cigar. Her path would have them zigzagging back and forth towards the middle of the continent.


    ¡°Let¡¯s do it that way. I would love to get the kids some wilderness experience on a longer trip but not when there are other masters trying to get to these themselves.¡± Laurel nodded decisively and it was settled. ¡°We¡¯ll camp here for the night and then start following the first road tomorrow.¡±


    Leander and Rebecca were practiced enough setting up camp now that it was only a bit over half an hour later that they were sitting in front of Laurel for their evening cultivation lesson.


    ¡°Now that you¡¯ve moved into the initiate stage there are two ideas you need to keep in mind as you move forward. The first thing to consider is what you want the goal of your cultivation path to be. The second is what elements or ideas resonate most with you and your goals. This can be anything. When I was your age I wanted the freedom to go anywhere and do anything. I wanted to protect myself and my friends. That eventually translated into swordwork and large-scale offensive techniques. I chose metal and air affinities to increase my swordsmanship and allow me to fly and pull big effects together quickly. Eventually I added lightning with the intent to eventually evolve the affinities into storm and blade. Hence the sobriquet. Martin had similar ideas, but focused on flexibility and adapting to any situation. He chose water and earth, so he can never be trapped or contained.


    ¡°I¡¯ve had friends focused on ideas in crafting and creating wonders, healing others, learning as much as possible, gardening, teaching, exploring the many worlds of the universe. There is no right or wrong answer, and if you get strong enough you will have all the time in the world to change goals later, but you need a focus to move forward. When you aspect your mana, the ideas you¡¯ve worked into your cultivation will dictate what you can do with it, at least to start. That¡¯s part of why we call it cultivation, you need to plant a seed and then grow it into something that you can embody.


    ¡°I want the two of you to spend an hour meditating on what you want to cultivate towards. Then work on drawing the ambient mana into your body to run faster for the rest of the time before bed.¡±


    She left them sitting there. Leander had noticed she did that a lot to let them ¡®process¡¯ whatever she had just said. He was starting to think it was more to keep them from asking too many questions, but he didn¡¯t mind that. It was obvious enough. He needed to pick what role he wanted to fill in the sect and then be the very best at it. Laurel was taking a stance on the other side of their clearing. She made a sword appear and began moving through a sort of slow dance-thing. Every day since they had been attacked in the valley she had worked with her sword. To avoid getting rusty, she said, though she had won that fight so he wasn¡¯t totally clear on why she was concerned.


    He let his mind drift. When he¡¯d started showing up to cultivation classes, Laurel had told him it wasn¡¯t about thinking too hard, but letting the right thoughts come to the front. What did he want to be? At the end of the hour Rebecca prodded him up to move onto their other drills, he still hadn¡¯t come any closer to answering the question.


    The next morning they set out angling southwest over the jungle. It was a bit less boring than flying over the ocean. At least here they found a road to follow along and sometimes the trees changed color. Around midday they passed a fork in the road, turning more south. There were people camped at a clearing around the intersection. He leaned over to wave but they were moving too fast to notice if anyone waved back. The rest of the time he spent thinking about Laurel¡¯s lesson and what he wanted to cultivate towards. The pattern repeated for another three days before they set down along the side of a road deep in the jungle. It had been two days since they¡¯d passed any other travelers, and Major Kat and Laurel both agreed it was as close as they could get. Tomorrow they would have to start out on foot.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    *********


    This time Laurel was in front. They were following game trails as much as possible, but when that failed someone had to hack through the dense undergrowth. That person might as well be a master cultivator with a metal affinity that kept her blades from being dulled. So she hacked away with a machete infused with mana. Even with the higher mana density of the region, most plants were still just plants. When she found some tree or vine that seemed close to becoming spiritual flora she left it alone. This would be a perfect region to send sect members to for future harvests of cultivation resources. Every few hours, or when they passed a particularly promising plant she would toss the map orb into the air to take a detailed impression. Around noon she passed something notable enough to have the others take a look.


    ¡°Not really sure what these little guys are all about but they are bursting with mana. Something will probably form in the little pond within a few years. Maybe a poison attuned plant or natural treasure.¡±


    Laurel directed the group that was following her to peek around a few leaves. Hidden behind them was a small pond and a colony of frogs in vibrant colors. Some blue, some orange or eye-searing yellow, about half had speckling or patterns. The rest of the group was less enthused by the discovery, stepping very carefully around the pond to avoid any of the frogs.


    The group had been split similarly to their last adventure, given it was much more likely for someone to happen upon the planes while they were camped along a trade route. So she was accompanied by her sect members, the original cultivator student soldiers, and Maria, who had announced she would wither if she had to sit around at the camp for a week. Kat had waved them off without looking up from her book, occasionally tossing orders at the rest of the soldiers staying behind.


    By mid-afternoon the grumbling from everyone behind Laurel had mostly tapered off into labored pants. She had taken it upon herself to use a variant of the technique she usually used for rain to keep bugs off of them all, but there was little she could do about the humidity. There was a swirl in the mana up ahead that Laurel was aiming for. Not the rapid flow or turbulence of a population center, but something closer to a tidal pool, self-contained but with hidden depths.


    The trees thinned slightly and Laurel pushed her way into a clearing. A small hut was nestled against the treeline on the other side. But that was barely a consideration as the group filtered into the opening and looked around. The clearing was full of a hundred orchids. Vibrant pinks, blues, and yellows painted the clearing in a spray of brilliant petals. Some of the flowers were in shade, some standing proudly in the center of the clearing. Rebecca managed to grab Leander¡¯s hand back before he picked one. Perfectly timed too, as afterward an older man emerged from the hut carrying a rifle awkwardly in two hands. He shouted something at them but Laurel couldn¡¯t make it out. Maria shouted back in the same language and the man relaxed and approached them.


    ¡°Sorry about that, don¡¯t get many strangers out in these parts.¡± He had switched to a heavily accented Meristan.


    ¡°Not at all! We didn¡¯t expect to find anyone but we stumbled upon your area. Can I ask why you¡¯re so far off the roads?¡±


    ¡°Oh sure. It¡¯s the flowers, yeah? The rich city folk pay for ¡®em, but they can¡¯t grow from seed out on the coast, so I farm out here and bring them in a few times a year.


    More chatting revealed the man¡¯s name was Cantor and he had spent his younger years working in a city on the Oudigan coast.  Even better, while he was perfectly content to spend most of his time alone, he would be happy to host them for the evening. Sitting around the cookfire, Laurel couldn¡¯t wait any longer to ask.


    ¡°Cantor, have you noticed any changes with the plants and animals around here in the last few years.¡±


    ¡°Sure. The critters have been getting a bit more forward, but the flowers have been growing better than ever.¡±


    Laurel was not getting any better at subtle introductions to magic in this new world so she dove right in. ¡°Do you have any experience with magic? The flowers appear to be soaking in the ambient mana of the region and stabilizing your little oasis.¡±


    Cantor¡¯s eyes had glazed over from Laurel¡¯s explanation. ¡°Uh, sure I guess?¡±


    ¡°Would we be able to purchase one from you?¡±


    ¡°Ah, that I can do girlie. How about a lovely vanda, or a slipper?¡±


    ¡°Perfect. Leander and Rebecca here would love to take notes, and help you for the evening in whatever chores you have for them in appreciation.


    The children trudged after the man while Cantor waxed poetically on the different types of orchids and their unique care. They settled on a brilliant purple flower, with white specks flecked across the petals like droplets of paint. Rebecca kept notes on all the types of orchids while Leander was listening to the directions to keep it alive. They were then sent off to cart the various pots around and pour water to Cantor¡¯s exacting standards.


    *********


    After dinner Laurel called the two sect members back over for the normal evening practice. Their sectmaster was sitting in a perfect meditation pose next to her new flower. Leander had a feeling he knew what she was going to tell them.


    ¡°The spatial tattoo can¡¯t hold anything living. Even the tiny motive spirit in a flower is enough to prevent me from storing it. So I¡¯ll need you two to do your best to keep this little guy alive until we get back to the sect.¡±


    Leander looked at Laurel, then turned to Rebecca, and lastly to the flower itself. They still had to go through at least one desert and one mountain range according to the map. And they had to keep this jungle flower alive through all of that. He had no choice but to agree. He had a feeling this was another thing Laurel considered ¡°good training¡±, which meant there were no arguments that would get him out of it.


    ¡°Here, Leander, why don¡¯t you hold it tonight and keep it with you while you meditate.¡± Laurel abruptly stood and walked off to do her sword practice, leaving Leander and Rebecca staring at the flower.


    He kept staring at it while he tried to drop into meditation. Each time he got close he was distracted by thinking about how to keep the flower safe in the planes. It would need light in the jungle and shade in the desert. Maybe Laurel would let him borrow her water crystal. He glanced over at Rebecca. Her breathing was even and she didn¡¯t seem to care about the flower at all. That wasn¡¯t right, they needed to help it so it could grow big. Laurel mentioned it had a spirit, and she had talked about plants and animals that could think and talk. Was this thing going to be alive and join the sect? Leander would protect it the way he would protect everyone in the sect. Thoughts settled, he was able to slip into meditation. At least until Laurel came over and set them both into sprinting back and forth.

 Ch 59 - Walk on the Wild Side

    Another day had gone by traversing the depths of the jungle. Laurel had led them to a small glen surrounding a crystal clear pool, in the center of which was a tiny island with a few bushes growing on it. She had forced Trip to harvest the Thousand Year Seed they had found in the center. A life attuned natural treasure wasn¡¯t particularly good for defense, but it would be invaluable for the health of the population. The snake that launched out of the water at Trip as he was trying to jump back to shore had also been a great example of the importance of maintaining their spiritual awareness.


    Now they had reached the true center of the jungle. The mana was rich and heavy, Laurel felt she could almost breathe it in. Flourishing growth obscured any sightlines they might have had. Her senses could feel swarms of spirit beasts in the area. Most were giving way and so she let them be, but it was a peculiar state. She was relying on her senses and reflexes in case something truly dangerous decided to approach the group. Pushing aside one particularly stubborn branch, the group staggered into another small clearing. The trees had grown tall enough that only a few dappled sunbeams made it to the forest floor. It was enough to illuminate the silhouette of the jaguar sitting before them.


    Without the evidence of her own eyes, Laurel would not have believed the cat was there at all. Its tail lazily swiped back and forth as it yawned, showing off razor sharp fangs. Intelligence sparked in dark eyes. A veil strong enough to hide from her own senses meant they were in the presence of yet another master-level beast. Why so many of those had been showing up recently was a question for another day. They were looking at the queen of this jungle.


    Laurel considered options. She was confident in her own skills to defeat the beast. But they were deep in its territory. Several powerful beasts were circling the vicinity, enough to put the rest of the group in serious danger if she was distracted fighting the cat. On the other hand, the best treasures of the forest were in this region. Treasures they needed to keep Verilia safe and advance it to a World Capital. She had become more and more concerned since their encounter in the valley. If the group that had sealed her away still existed, and all evidence suggested that was the case, they might be trying to do something similar again. They would not sit idly by while Laurel¡¯s sect became more powerful. An established World Capital would mean the cosmic mana flows were too well-anchored to ever cut off. Every scrap of defense and utility they could eke out of this first trip would be crucial. The jaguar was still watching them, while the rest of her party was looking between her and the cat. Laurel decided to take a chance that since it hadn¡¯t attacked immediately, it might be reasoned with.


    ¡°Greetings to the ruler of the Oudigan Jungle,¡± she said with a tilt of her head, stopping short of an actual bow. The words didn¡¯t perfectly translate to the modern language, but the meaning remained the same. She was taking a risk that the ancient traditions she had been taught really were deeply ingrained in the instincts of spirit beasts, and not a whim of her elders. The language wasn¡¯t supposed to matter, but many of the rules had been rewritten in the centuries since cultivators held sway over the world.


    ¡°Greetings to the cultivators.¡± The words came through in the sibilant hiss of spirit beasts. Felt in the spirit as much as heard. All of them except Leander shied away at the first contact with a spirit beast. The boy looked intrigued. On reflection that made sense, he didn¡¯t have the same relationship to spoken words as the rest.


    ¡°We are representatives of the Eternal Archive and the Meristan military, on an expedition to strengthen our home with the treasures of the world. We seek to share in your home¡¯s bounty.¡±


    ¡°You are not the first to come seeking to pillage our home. The last fed my family. Why should you all not meet the same fate?¡±


    ¡°For the same reasons that kept you from attacking us when we entered the core of the forest. Cultivators will continue to come. If the others you saw are the same we ran into, they took without regard for the future. We come with respect for your home, and will not take anything that cannot be replenished. Cultivators will always seek out this place. Working together now will avoid catastrophe in future.¡±


    The spirit beast looked across the group. Leander clutching the orchid pot next to Rebecca, who looked pleasantly surprised by a talking cat. The soldiers'' hands were drifting towards their weapons, looking around the small glade, but none had made a move yet. Laurel dropped her own veil to let her cultivation show. She might be willing to work with the spirit beast, but it shouldn¡¯t think them undefended should it come to a battle. It was hard to tell, but she expected the monster was more focused on stealth or illusions rather than offensive capabilities. Not that any master spirit beast should be written off, but Laurel would have an edge in a fight.


    ¡°Very well. I will allow three of you to be tested by the forest. What you find you may take, if done so respectfully.¡±


    ¡°We agree. Fair bargain, well struck.¡± Laurel smiled and looked over the group.


    She would remain, of course, as a deterrent to the cat simply changing her mind about the cultivators allowed in her domain. Laurel also didn¡¯t need the benefits of such a journey. This was the type of experience that forged a young initiate, helped them reach into the depths of their character. Laurel¡¯s path was more established. She knew who she was and who she wanted to become, and was doing the long work to get there. The children would use this to define how they moved forward.


    The orchid and the other plant from the valley were already her way of helping Leander without pushing him too much in one direction. The kid obviously wanted to be part of a family and nurture a sect. It had taken her and Adam months of reassurance for him to believe he wouldn¡¯t be tossed out immediately, and she wasn¡¯t sure they were fully there. There were worse ideas to center cultivation around. And it would be an easy one to segue into the combat techniques he was itching for. He could stay with her for this one. Rebecca was another story. The stunt in Lanport was evidence enough that she was still dealing with her past. Maybe this would be an opportunity to refocus and find what she wanted for her future. The soldiers were harder. It was no longer her responsibility to teach them, but she still cared about their progress. Trip seemed the most focused when it came to his cultivation. He wanted to be an enchanter of some sort, tinkering with his plane and weapons for the military. Communing with nature was not what he needed. The other two were harder for her to read. They had joined the lessons because they were told to. Reina was fascinated by the process and Reynard was easy going enough but Laurel had no idea what, if anything they wanted to do with their cultivation.


    ¡°Rebecca, Reina, Reynard, you three will take the trial set by¡­¡± she paused and looked at the jaguar.


    ¡°I call myself Saralhasa. As you say. Step forward and enter the paths. May you rise to meet the trials within.¡±


    The others had no time to prepare and walked forward, Rebecca clutching her staff nervously and the others with a bit more swagger. Three openings had appeared in the tree line, one for each of the initiates and they entered the gloom. The plant life closed the way afterwards. When the others were out of sight, Leander turned an accusing stare at Laurel, hugging the pot in his arms a little closer. She sighed, this was the downside to making all the decisions.


    ¡°This is not what you need. You''re closer to deciding what you want to do, right?¡± He reluctantly agreed. ¡°The others are still figuring out their paths, you are almost ready to begin walking your own. I know you want to help but they need to do this alone. Besides, we¡¯ll have plenty of fun here.¡± She produced some chairs, a table, and an entire tea set, along with a wider bowl.


    ¡°Saralhasa I¡¯d be fascinated to hear all about the last few years in this part of the world if you would like to share. Or your opinions on cultivation.¡±


    *******


    The trees and vines that had been bothersome but ultimately unimportant obstacles when Laurel was leading the way now loomed ominously over Rebecca as she walked. Somehow there was a path, but it only extended a few meters in front of her and behind, then the plants swallowed up the rest. It was dark. There had been plenty of sun on their trek into the forest and in the clearing, but now only the bare minimum sunlight needed to walk without stumbling reached her. Fishing her necklace out of her tunic, she directed some mana to it. The arrow lit up and pointed towards the safety of the sect house, so far away. She couldn¡¯t keep it up for ever, but it was enough to keep the panic away for now. Of all the people Laurel could have made do this, why her? Leander liked all the adventures and the soldiers were trained for dangerous situations. The traveling around had been fun, but the fights they¡¯d seen so far were terrifying. Her thoughts flashed back to the cultivators that tried to kill them and the desperation she felt fighting them off with what was basically a stick. Her mind tried to go even further back but she wrenched it back to the present. Those memories weren¡¯t going to help.


    She kept going. There were no instructions on what she was supposed to do or look for. The giant predator Laurel had been talking to like a common house cat said they would be challenged by the jungle to see what they could find. So she was on the path but what was the challenge? Going into the unknown for the sect was challenging enough but she doubted that would earn her anything useful for the city.


    Up ahead, the foliage cleared to reveal a fork in the path. Rebecca hesitated, looking down the left and right as far as she could see, but finding them identical. Martin¡¯s voice from training sessions echoed through her mind, chiding her that only fools relied solely on their eyes when they had the rest of their senses and their spirit to use as well. Eyes closed, she felt along each path. The right felt solid. Safe. The left was murkier, she couldn¡¯t get a clear idea of it but it gave off a dangerous sensation. The contrast might mean the right was the correct choice. Maybe the test was to follow her senses to the treasure. Or maybe she was supposed to take a chance on the less safe path. She hated this. There had already been enough years in her life where every action was a test. Constantly second guessing what the right answer to a question was to cause the least anger. Doing everything the way she was told and then being torn down when it was somehow still wrong. Around and around, the memories swirled.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    She plunged down the left path. That wasn¡¯t her anymore. No more bullies would have her at their mercy. The trail narrowed and started winding back and forth. Rebecca had left her spiritual senses open and the sense of foreboding got worse. A quick glance back confirmed retreat was not an option, the path ended only a few meters back. Her hands were sweating on the staff and she wiped them on her trousers. Wanting anything to distract herself she focused on the pants. She had always worn skirts before the sect but Laurel preferred pants, and had made it clear dresses would not be a good idea in the wilderness. There were options at home, since Annette had a whole range of uniforms. The inane thoughts kept coming. She was glad Leander was taking care of the orchid because she hated gardening and was glad that was no longer one of her chores. Adam made them read history, which she didn¡¯t mind, maybe she could work in the library more when she got back.


    The intrusions crescendoed with the rising sense of danger until, without warning, both cut out. A wall of leaves had appeared at the end of the path. Her anxiety was still present, but whatever had been driving it to unmanageable levels had stopped. Rebecca slowly approached the greenery. A few white flowers dotted the wall in small clusters. Maybe someone like Laurel, who knew how to talk to magic monsters, would understand the pattern, but she just thought it looked nice. Hesitantly, her hand reached out. Nothing bit her, or leapt out when she made contact with the vines. Grasping a handful, she carefully pushed them to the side. Suddenly the earth beneath her heaved and she stumbled forward.


    Noise came first. Then an almost blinding amount of sunlight. A cacophony of screeches, squawks, yelps, and clicks assaulted her ears. There was no way it should have been quiet only a meter away behind the vines. Next she realized she was in the midst of an all out battle. The cat, or the forest or someone, had dumped her into the largest clearing she had seen since forest had started dominating the skyline. It was full of creatures, spirit beasts, and they were all fighting. Brightly colored birds clashed with lizards. Smaller mammals and snakes fought some large rodent thing. In the distance she even saw a fish with teeth shooting water at its rivals on land.


    It was chaos, but none of them had noticed her yet. Without taking her eyes off the scene before her, she reached back and groped for the vines that had concealed this place. Her hand found tree bark instead. A quick glance told her the hole she¡¯d entered through was sealed. Looking around the edges of the clearing she could see nowhere the trees thinned or the dense underbrush had a gap she might crawl through. While she searched, the edge directly across from her disgorged some furred creature with long claws. It ambled forward slowly until a fast-diving bird attempted to peck at it. The hands whipped out faster than it should be able to, and batted the bird aside as the new contestant joined the fray.


    Paralyzed by uncertainty, she could only watch. There was no way out, and she wasn¡¯t confident in putting her staff against fangs or claws. She tried using her spiritual senses again for another hint, but that just told her the animals were all spirit beasts. To her left a small monkey was pushed out of the forest. It was much smaller than most of the other animals, and to Rebecca¡¯s naive senses, weaker. Startling yellow eyes peered out from a white face, while the rest of its body was covered in a gray fur that looked extremely soft to the touch. It had a remarkable tail, standing vertical behind the beast, with black and white stripes along its entire length. Rebecca noted all of that, but what stuck out the most was a sense of fear she saw in the animal. She recognized the hunched posture and darting eyes as it looked for an escape.


    A black snake thicker around than Rebecca¡¯s arm slithered forward next to a large bird with drab brown feathers and vicious talons. The two ignored each other in a temporary alliance while they approached the little monkey. She saw a drop of blood fall from the hawk¡¯s beak. The monkey looked around for an escape, but the curve of the forest and the angles of the approaching predators meant there was nowhere for it to go. None of the animals had noticed Rebecca as she watched the end of the little beast¡¯s life approach. She would have sworn the look on the snake¡¯s face was a sinister smile. Because those animals had sharp teeth or claws they would push around the littler spirit beasts.


    Something snapped inside Rebecca. As the aggressive animals lunged in towards the monkey, she jumped in between them. Her staff swung out, catchin the snake in the side and causing the hawk to hop back. Feet set, hands no longer shaking, she swung the staff back and forth to keep them away.


    ¡°No! Stay back!¡± She was screaming, incoherent. The only thought she could focus on was keeping the bullies away. In the corner of her eye she saw another opening appear in the tree line. Without pausing to consider she turned and scooped up her new friend, and dove through before it could close. She fell onto her hands and knees, panting and shaking. She forced herself back to her feet and turned around. Another green wall of vines, speckled with pretty white flowers. The sounds of fighting had been completely cut off and Rebecca was alone with the little spirit beast, which was staring back at her. There were no other options so she started following the trail once more. Every few minutes she turned and found the monkey still behind her. It wasn¡¯t aggressive so she followed Laurel¡¯s example and left it there.


    By degrees, the light returned to the jungle. Noticing she could see without her homing stone, Rebecca sped up. A gap appeared at the end of her section of trail, but it was too late for her to stop, and she ran forward into the clearing they¡¯d started in. She almost sobbed seeing Laurel, but stopped when she realized her sectmaster was having tea with the jaguar. Looking around, Leander was staring at a flower in the corner while Trip was sitting with Reina and Reynard, both of whom were holding a jade box. The sight jogged her memory and sent a pang through her. She was here for a reason and she hadn¡¯t found anything helpful; she¡¯d barely even thought of it after the first part of the walk. Her heart was still racing when the cat started doing the confusing talking/not-talking thing.


    ¡°Welcome back child. Did you find what you sought in my realm?¡±


    Rebecca glanced from the cat to Laurel and back again. They were somehow making the same expression, despite being entirely different species.


    ¡°I - I didn¡¯t find any natural treasures.¡± She could barely make eye contact with Laurel.


    ¡°That is not what I asked,¡± Saralhasa said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that.¡± Laurel interrupted at the same time. ¡°It looks like you made a new friend.¡±


    Looking down, the monkey she had defended had followed her into the clearing. It was huddled behind her legs, keeping Rebecca¡¯s body firmly between itself and the master cultivator and spirit beast.


    ¡°The monkey followed me back¡­¡±


    ¡°The lemur,¡± she noted the extra emphasis on the species, ¡°was inspired to follow you.¡± The cat stalked closer and Rebecca realized it was quite a bit bigger than her initial impressions. A look at Laurel showed the older woman unconcerned, watching the scene unfold while sipping tea and smiling ear to ear.


    ¡°You chose the path of the wild over the path of civilization. You showed courage in the face of danger, and compassion to one weaker than you. I will make a deal with you, human. A natural treasure from the jungle, but you will absorb it here.¡±


    Laurel was still smiling but not offering any help as Rebecca stood in front of Saralhasa. Absorbing a natural treasure could give an aspect to her mana, or a special power, according to her lessons. Did she want that? There had only been a few days to even start thinking of what kind of cultivator she wanted to be. It wasn¡¯t clear how much time she had spent wandering, but it looked like the sun was setting. She thought about how the whole experience had felt. Terrifying, exhilarating, and at the end, a spark of the person she wished she was.


    ¡°I accept.¡±


    From behind Rebecca something floated out of the forest. A piece of dark wood, looking like a tangled knot of vines. As it drifted into her hands she could feel a deep thrum of mana, an echo of the battle she had witnessed. The longer she looked the more she saw in the wood grain, or perhaps the grain shifted as she stared.


    ¡°A Heart of the Wild. We offer our thanks, Saralhasa.¡±


    ¡°Rebecca, it will aspect your mana with the idea of the wild.¡¯¡¯ Rebecca jumped, not having noticed as Laurel appeared next to her. ¡°Get comfortable, it will take a while.¡±


    Rebecca found a tree to lean against and sat down in a meditative pose to listen to Laurel¡¯s instruction. The cat was watching as well, apparently deeming her anxiety an interesting show.


    ¡°You¡¯ll want to use this natural treasure to aspect your mana, it¡¯s a simple process, but simple is not necessarily easy. Focus on the circulation of your mana. When you¡¯ve internalized the rhythm, send a tendril into the Heart, then try and pull another tendril from the Heart back into your body. You want it to form a complete cycle. Then keep going until you can¡¯t push or pull anymore.¡±


    ¡°Is this going to hurt the same as the meridians?¡±


    ¡°No, no. There¡¯s going to be a bit of a bite, with a wild aspect, but nothing like that. Get started and I¡¯ll keep an eye to make sure things are going well.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t reassuring, but Rebecca started cultivating anyway. As instructed, when she was comfortable, she reached out to the wood, still warm in her hands. It greedily drank in her mana. When she tried to pull mana back out to complete the cycle, she ran into trouble. The Heart did not want to give any mana back. She pushed and clawed with her mind and then she was back in the battle. Claws, fangs, tusks tore into her, if felt like the world itself was bearing down on her, rejecting her as too far removed, too civilized, to become part of the wild. Sweat dripped down her face, she couldn¡¯t stop. Laurel hadn¡¯t mentioned what would happen but if it hurt this much now, stopping would definitely be worse.


    Her entire being bent to the purpose. Slowly, almost too slowly for her to realize, mana began to drip from the Heart into her own channels. Encouraged, she pulled even harder. The drip became a trickle and then a torrent. Rebecca frantically cycled, barely keeping control of her mana as it sped through her body. She was lost to the flow and had to hang on as best she could. Eventually the mana slowed back down. The Heart stopped pulling any of her own mana in and she couldn¡¯t pull any more out. Blinking, she opened her eyes.


    Laurel was sitting right in front of her, illuminated by the moonlight bathing the glen. Rebecca¡¯s head jerked back only to realize Saralhasa was on her left. Flinching from both of the masters left her sprawled awkwardly on her side.


    ¡°Well done! Now eat this and get some sleep.¡±


    Those words unlocked something and Rebecca¡¯s stomach let out a growl that would have been at home in her adventure earlier in the day. She devoured the bowl Laurel handed her and stumbled to bed.


    *******


    Laurel was thrilled with their journey through the jungle, and not hiding it. The water and wood natural treasures Reina and Reynard had picked up would do wonders for the city. Even a coastal city could make use of a freshwater treasure, keeping drinking water safe or something else, and the wood treasure could be used as part of a flexible shield or strengthening all of the buildings made from the same material. Whatever, there would be options. She stayed awake for the evening, cultivating and practicing her blade forms. Breakfast was thus prepared before anyone woke up the next day.


    ¡°Thank you for the hospitality Saralhasa. I hope in future we will work together again, and that my students may be welcome in your realm.¡±


    ¡°Those who treat the land with respect will be allowed entry. Those that do not will have no need to concern themselves with the consequences.¡±


    Laurel gave the spirit beast a bow she would give to an equal, it was a fair warning and anyone she sent here would gain much if they could show respect. She turned to lead the party back to the planes and the rest of the group.


    ¡°I believe you are forgetting something,¡± Saralhasa spoke up as they were leaving the clearing.


    The lemur from the previous day scampered up to the group and climbed up to Rebecca¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°He has thrown his lot in with yours, cub.¡±


    Rebecca gave an awkward bow to the jaguar, copying what Laurel had done. ¡°I¡¯ll keep him safe.¡±


    With that they were able to depart. It was easier to leave the area than enter it, the jaguar''s subtle influence easier to read now that they were not marked as enemies, and it was only two days later that they had met up with the rest of the group.

 Ch 60 - Journeying On

    Sven elbowed him in the ribs and pointed up to the sky. Following the direction, George saw a group of low flying planes pass them in the opposite direction.


    ¡°Meristan and Naxian armies are the only ones that use planes like that. Better hope it doesn¡¯t mean anything or it''s us regular folk that will pay for it.¡± Sven had been treating him like an old friend ever since the attack, a change George would have appreciated if he wasn¡¯t trying to be forgettable.


    ¡°Probably just a drill. Merista and Elgin are allies right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re probably right.¡±


    George hoped that was all it was, or the chances of his plan succeeding would plummet.


    ******


    Cooper stared out of the window of the tavern. The snow was lighter here than the capital, but it was still present. If his professors were to be believed it was something to do with the way the mountains messed with the clouds. He spared a moment to be jealous of Leander and Rebecca, who had gotten to escape the last gasps of winter with their trip.  He and Eric had been able to get rides from various stagecoaches or passing merchants to Ineton Township but their true goal was perched high on the other side of the mountain. Only a small track led from the village to the Indell compound which meant they would need to make it up the mountain on foot.


    Eric came back to their corner table with two bowls of stew and a loaf of bread tucked under his arm. Cooper took his portion with a murmured thanks as they both dug in, tired from the days of travel. He had been apprehensive about traveling with Eric at first. The lad was young and barely educated. When he made the mistake of voicing that concern to Adam, he had been taken aside and reminded rather firmly that they were members of the sect just like him, and that once you were a member, the sect didn¡¯t hold people¡¯s pasts against them. Besides, starting to cultivate young meant the boy had great potential. A few pointed remarks about Adam¡¯s own history with life in the Flats had shut up any remaining arguments Cooper might have made. No one enjoyed being called a snob to their face but he managed to shut up and do what he was told in the end.


    It was a good thing too, the lad was an excellent traveling companion. Never having left the capital, his curiosity made the string of normal roads and taverns feel like an adventure. The boy also had sharper eyes than Cooper for certain practicalities. He had noted a pickpocket a few villages back and kept Cooper from an embarrassing situation of losing his purse to a low-level criminal after gaining magical powers.


    The new initiates stood side by side the next morning, staring up at the path. The snow had stopped falling overnight. But they still had to trudge through what remained as they went up the mountain. According to the men sharing a pint in their tavern the night before, it was about a four hour walk when the trails were clear. Long enough that they would use a cart if they had one, short enough that they could get to the school and back within the same day. With the snow up to Eric¡¯s knees, they were hoping to make it up before sunset.


    ¡°You know, Laurel can fly, and Martin said he can move the earth or water under him when he needs to move fast,¡± Eric said.


    ¡°We should have asked for a lesson in that before we left,¡± Cooper replied as they began the hike.


    ¡°I did. Martin laughed at me and said ¡®come back in a decade¡¯. Would be nice though.¡± The boys enjoyed a laugh, their breath misting in the mountain air.


    ¡°Apparently the improved running he made us practice is the best movement technique we¡¯ll have for a while. And anything better we¡¯ll either figure out ourselves or need to earn access to it from the library.¡±


    They decided whoever was in the lead and breaking the path would get to pick their conversation topic. The morning flew by, the bonding experience distracting them both from the unpleasantness of trudging through the snow. Cooper reminded himself to thank Annette when they got back for the fur-lined boots they were given before heading out.


    ¡°What do you think about your aspecting?¡± Eric had his head bowed as he leaned forward, looking up occasionally to make sure they were on the trail.


    Cooper felt a bit bad making him go first, he had head and shoulders above Eric, but the boy had insisted it was his job as a sect member. It was an interesting topic choice though. Martin had given them an initial lecture on narrowing down why they wanted to be cultivators and using that to determine their next steps. There had been precious little instruction after that. The Eternal Archive was not up to date on their pedagogical methods. Lessons in connecting and using the ambient mana to enforce their own bodies, or move some small object, but nothing about their larger goals. When Cooper pushed for details, Martin told him he would be crippled if he got too much help. This journey itself was supposed to be part sect mission, part self-discovery.


    Realizing he hadn¡¯t responded, Cooper tried to put voice to his thoughts. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. It was cool when Adam got the perfect librarian aspect, and I thought maybe that would be good for me too. But I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve spent so long in school and I was only okay at it. Then you see someone like Laurel who can fight off monsters using giant swords made of lightning. It¡¯s awesome, but I don¡¯t think that¡¯s for me either. I mostly joined because I was curious, and I didn¡¯t have other good options. My family is established enough to get me a good position with with the Scribes or a merchant house, but I wasn¡¯t interested¡­. Anyway recently I¡¯ve been thinking about space magic. Laurel mentioned that was how her tattoo worked, and that spatial cultivators could teleport or do all sorts of things. It would be pretty fun to learn about. But what Adam did is rare, so I would have to find a space attuned natural treasure which sounds impossible. Or maybe something like earth so I can be super durable while I travel around. I¡¯m rambling. What about you, any ideas?¡±


    ¡°Healer,¡± Eric grunted out as they started a steeper section of the trail. They stopped talking for a few minutes while they huffed up the slope. Cooper could appreciate the improvements in his body from the cultivation and the physical training, but he wasn¡¯t yet at running-up-mountains-without-breaking-a-sweat levels.


    ¡°Healing, huh? You''re sure?¡± Cooper asked once the path leveled out for a while.


    ¡°Yeah. Laurel healed James. He had a cut on his arm and it was getting red and warm. We didn¡¯t have any money but she helped anyway. That¡¯s why we joined the sect when we heard about it. And Laurel told me she wasn¡¯t even that good of a healer.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s stop here.¡± They sat on a fallen log that was poking out of the snow while they ate their lunch. The pasties they¡¯d bought from the same inn they slept in the night before were greasy and bland after being spoiled by Esther for months. But after spending the morning hiking through the snow they were one of the best meals he could remember. ¡°You have a pretty noble focus already, did Martin tell you what you would need for that?¡±


    ¡°Fine control and a life attunement. Or I could start with something like plants and evolve it, which is the usual way. He gave me some exercises to do for practice.¡±


    Cooper was a bit surprised that someone so young was already so decided on a course. Eric couldn¡¯t be more than 15 or 16 years old, if that. Cooper had most of a decade on the boy, and had no idea on his path. He went to university because it was expected and he didn¡¯t have any other ideas. The sect was more of a risk but it was still a lot of school and following instructions. Not nearly a good enough idea to base his whole cultivator foundation on. They went back to their hike, this time Cooper taking the lead. Topics ranged from how the girls were doing on their part of the quest to the best meals Esther had produced back home to where they most wanted to visit.


    By late afternoon Cooper was getting nervous. They should have made it to their destination already. He had spent several winters being forced along on his father¡¯s big game hunting trips. There was a long list of things the servants brought when they were going to be overnight in the snow, and he and Eric were carrying precious few of them. Cooper looked over to see similar thoughts reflected on Eric¡¯s determined face.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll get there soon. There haven¡¯t been any forks in the road so we know we¡¯re on the right path.¡±


    They continued on. There wasn¡¯t any other option. The sun met the horizon and the pines that were picturesque and majestic earlier had become wardens as they continued trudging along the path that was feeling more like a prison sentence. Shadows lengthened, sapping the heat from their bodies as their lungs burned with the exertion.


    ¡°Cooper.¡± Eric¡¯s voice was a whisper. ¡°I swear I¡¯ve seen that tree before.¡± The lad pointed to one of their sentinel pines, odd growths marking it as separate from the monotony of the rest of the forest.


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. We haven¡¯t left the path.¡±


    ¡°I know it¡¯s impossible. But I still remember it from an hour ago.¡±


    Cooper slowed to a stop and Eric came up level with him. He turned a slow circle. There were the footprints from the path he¡¯d just trudged. And there, next to them, another set of footprints, ever so slightly covered by the flakes of snow that had begun to fall after the sun went down.


    ¡°Eric¡­¡± he said. ¡°We can¡¯t stop. We don¡¯t have the equipment to camp.¡±


    Both boys looked around, at a loss. They were going in circles but that was better than standing around and waiting to freeze.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Eric said. ¡°Cycle mana to your eyes. Martin said you can make parts of your body work better, that¡¯s what we do when we use it to run. We try making ourselves see the path better and then keep going.¡±


    Cooper gaped at the boy. ¡°You¡¯re full of surprises aren¡¯t you? It¡¯s worth a shot.¡± He didn¡¯t have any better plans they could try.


    They began. Cooper thought through the lessons Martin had taught them for the movement technique and applied them again. This time instead of sending extra mana into his legs, he pushed it up towards his skull. The change made him stumble and fall in the snow. He could see everything, individual snowflakes, each pine needle or whorl in the bark of a tree. It was too much. Already a piercing headache was beginning to form. The technique fell apart. Cooper found himself on the ground, gulping lungfuls of air, Eric next to him in the same state.


    ¡°Intense,¡± he managed to get out.


    Eric grunted his agreement.


    ¡°Less mana than the legs I think.¡±


    Trying a second time was so much worse. Now he had the ability to anticipate the pain and had to do it anyway. This time he focused on the smallest trickle of mana he could manage. The results were the same. It was too much detail. His mind couldn¡¯t handle that many inputs at once and he had to drop it before he passed out. Turning, Cooper saw Eric was in a better state.


    ¡°It¡¯s too much for me. I think it¡¯s that fine control you were talking about earlier. I don¡¯t have it. Not yet,¡± Cooper said. Eric didn¡¯t respond, still surveying the woods. ¡°Eric?¡±


    The boy startled at hearing his name called but he responded. ¡°There¡¯s something weird in the mana. I don¡¯t quite understand but the trail is sort of outlined in gold. It¡¯s pretty.¡±


    Cooper cursed his past self for ever thinking badly of Eric when he was the one ending up as a burden on this trip. ¡°Can you follow it?¡±


    ¡°I think so. Grab onto my jacket so we stay together.¡±


    Cooper did as directed and they started forward, the smaller boy leading. There were no fun conversation topics this time, no banter to break the silence. He followed along, the moonlight filtering through the treetops lending enough light to see that they were about to walk directly into a tree.


    ¡°Eric.¡±  No response.


    ¡°Eric!¡±


    ¡°Trust me.¡±


    Feeling like an absolute idiot, Cooper did. He shut his eyes and walked forward. Instead of an embarrassing run-in with a stationary object, they kept moving. Cooper didn¡¯t dare open his eyes. After the most stressful hour of his life, Eric announced that they had arrived.


    A wrought-iron gate blocked the way and they could see a few modest stone and wood buildings beyond. The Indell Coven was humbler than he expected from the stories. Rumors were that young women came here when they wanted to become witches, that even Theresa Skycrest had studied for a few years to learn her craft. As one of the only other openly magic institutions in the country, it was imperative they made a good impression. Difficult when they showed up scraggly and snow-covered in the middle of the night.


    ¡°Ready?¡± He checked in with Eric who was looking around with his face scrunched up.


    ¡°Ready.¡± The boy looked exhausted. They would be in trouble if the witches weren¡¯t kind enough to offer shelter.


    Cooper shouted out, ¡°Hello, is anyone there?¡±


    A few moments later, a woman with jet-black hair holding a blanket around her shoulders poked her head out of the door.


    ¡°The gate¡¯s open. Come on in before all the heat gets out.¡±


    Chagrinned, they both hurried over to the building the woman called from. It was the largest in the clearing, made of stone with cheerily painted blue shutters. They stamped their boots off on the porch, and left their winter gear and packs in the entryway. The woman led them to a large living room, with another half dozen women all sitting around a merrily crackling fire. A few had knitting while the rest had books or other projects scattered around.


    ¡°Come warm up lads, and tell us what brings you up to our little school so late at night.¡±


    Mugs of mulled wine were pressed into their hands as they joined the group around the fire. Cooper had suppressed the nerves admirably up to this point but they were back in full force. He cleared his throat and launched into his prepared statement.


    ¡°My name is Cooper Sarsenne, and this is Eric Parchet. We represent the Eternal Archive which has recently been established in the capital. Have you perhaps heard of our organization?¡± He looked around the room and got nods or murmured affirmations.


    ¡°We¡¯re a ways out up here, but we still hear about a monster bigger than most buildings showing up to attack a city.¡±


    ¡°Right, well, through the events of the last year, we have not been entirely pleased with how other organizations and the government have dealt with our sect. With the growing presence of magic in the world, we are looking to form a guild of magic organizations and independent magic users, as a way to regulate and get appropriate compensation for our work.¡±


    ¡°Big plan there lad. And I suppose you are looking for us to join you?¡±


    ¡°Ideally yes, we have here letters from our sect officers explaining the proposed terms in more detail.¡± Cooper nudged Eric who pulled out the slightly crumpled papers and passed them over to the woman who seemed to be in charge. She skimmed them before passing the packet off to the woman on her right, who proceeded to do the same.


    ¡°You two are very young and may not be aware of the dangers magic users face in the world. Why should we join such a group, what do we get from this?¡±


    ¡°More protection from those dangers, for one thing. Knowledge and the ability to negotiate fair rates for your work. Not to mention, the government will be reaching out soon to ask you to help manage the magic around cities and large towns. With a guild in place we can both help with that process and make sure you are treated fairly.¡±


    The women were making eye contact in the way that told Cooper they could have an entire silent conversation around them. Before any of them could say anything, or ask more questions, Eric exploded.


    ¡°Laurel and everyone help people. She healed my little brother and defended the city. Martin has been teaching us how to cultivate and protect ourselves. We get food and a place to stay and you should be helping them!¡±


    Cooper was stunned. This was the same boy that had trudged an entire day through snow and weird magic in complete equanimity. Before he could cobble together an apology for the outburst, the head witch stepped in.


    ¡°Everyone¡¯s tired. And I¡¯m sure you found the path up the mountain difficult. How about you boys eat something and stay the night. We¡¯ll talk more in the morning.¡±


    There was not much they could say to that besides grateful acceptance. They scarfed down a pleasant stew and were led to rooms by the leaders of the Coven, Sabrina and Valerie. Eric and Cooper had been told it was generally impolite to inquire after another sect¡¯s techniques, but Cooper¡¯s curiosity got the best of him as they walked through the halls.


    ¡°Madame Sabrina, may I ask how you go about opening meridians? The leaders of my sect  were surprised that such a thing was possible to control without knowledge of the theory. And with how painful the process was,¡±


    ¡°And what makes you think we don¡¯t have knowledge of the theory, lad?¡±


    Cooper¡¯s face drained of color as he tried to apologize. ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry, I just meant¨C¡±


    ¡°Leave off the boy Sabrina. Now, we don¡¯t call the pathways ¡°meridians¡± but I think I know what you¡¯re asking. The real answer is we¡¯ve passed down some secrets over the years. What worked for some folks by chance we try and recreate. If your sect leaders are as knowledgeable as you say, they probably have a much higher success rate than we do here.¡±


    After his flub Cooper kept quiet as they reached the room. There were two bunks, comfortable pallets with warm blankets piled on top. With a bare pass at washing, both of them fell into bed and knew no more.


    The boys stumbled down to breakfast from the guest room they were sharing to find most of the coven already present. They gathered their bowls of oatmeal and sat amid the witches. He and Eric did their best to answer questions about news from the capital, life in the sect, and the last months learning to cultivate while they ate.


    Sabrina was again at the head of the table and was the first to bring up their reason for being there. ¡°We¡¯ve come to a decision. You boys may know Theresa Skycrest was a member of the Coven a couple of decades ago. She reached out recently to ask us to help manage City Cores in larger towns. She also told us about your sect leader teaching her new techniques. A few of our members were already planning on journeying to the capital soon. Either Valerie or I will be leading the group, when we get to the city we will discuss more details about joining this guild.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for your consideration, Madam Sabrina.¡±


    ¡°Are you boys heading directly back to the city? We were planning on leaving by the end of the week, so we can travel in a group.¡±


    ¡°Actually we are taking the long way back, looking for more individual cultivators that might be interested.¡± Cooper answered her.


    ¡°Ah, then perhaps we will see you there.¡±


    ¡°Now then, eat up boys,¡± Sabrina said. ¡°If you head out soon you¡¯ll make it back to the village before nightfall. The mountain is kinder to people leaving than it is to people coming up. You won¡¯t have any troubles with illusions on the way down.¡±

 Ch 61 - Close Call

    The odors of a busy port assaulted George as he stepped onto the docks. Fish, seawater, a faint trace of sewage, and smoke had him gagging the way it always did. A few unpleasant deep breaths and he was almost acclimated, though he hoped the Meristan capital was fresher than its largest port.  At least he had arrived in spring. He shuddered thinking of what the place must reek of in the height of summer. The best part of his old position as a magehunter was traveling around the Empire and exploring the wilderness. Of course it came with living with nonstop threats to his life, so maybe ¡®best¡¯ wasn¡¯t a high bar to hit. These new mages would need people to do the same sorts of things, maybe he could sell himself to them as a sort of forager or hunter. They could send him around to protect people instead of hunting them. He could dream.


    Moving away from the docks, he could breathe easier and the crush of people thinned out enough for him to get his bearings. He stepped to the side of the road, looking out over the streams of people, trying to find his target. A merchant house like he¡¯d visited in Oudigar would be perfect, but he had no clue if that was how Meristans hired workers. He would find out soon. He glimpsed a city guard looking at George from across the square. Running would only make him look suspicious, he¡¯d learned that lesson the hard way when he tried to escape the mage hunters as a child. Instead he pasted on a smile and walked directly towards the guard, doing his best to project ¡®hapless foreigner¡¯.


    ¡°Hello! Merchant carrier work, where?¡± George held the smile while internally cursing the magehunter tutors, who had made him study ancient Alrasian but didn¡¯t think Meristan would be useful. After all, why would any of them need to talk to such people?


    ¡°What¡¯s that lad?¡± The older man seemed perplexed, but not like he was considering George a threat, which he would take as progress.


    ¡°Where is merchant-carrier work?¡± George dug deep into every scrap of language he¡¯d learned over the last week amongst sailors on the ship.


    ¡°Oh, if you¡¯re looking to porter, head over and give your name to the guild branch. About halfway towards the city center, fancy green building, you can¡¯t miss it.¡± A vague gesture down the road had George trotting off, thankful for the uneventful interaction.


    A few more conversations in broken Meristan, and George was standing across the street from a wide green edifice. Something was inscribed above the doors but the elaborate carving made it impossible to read. He had been watching for an hour, observing who went in and out. It was an eclectic mix of men and women. Some wore the tailored layers of what was obviously the upper class, others the kind of rough homespun George himself had scrounged from the rest of the caravaneers after fighting off the monster. Feeling he had a good handle on what was going on, he entered with as much confidence as he could muster.


    Inside was controlled chaos. Clerks and workers bustled around, shouting at each other and handing papers back and forth in a careful dance. A gallery ran along the upper floor, where a few of the rich patrons he had seen were gathered sipping some sort of amber liquor. A massive desk dominated the center of the room, and lacking other instincts, George made his way towards it, dodging the few people that crossed his path.


    ¡°Hello, I would like to sign up to work as a porter. What options are available?¡± A kind woman running a stall in a market had helped him memorize the right phrasing.


    ¡°Name? Member? Quals?¡±


    George stared at the man. He recognized the words but had no idea what had been asked of him. The clerk let out a put-upon sigh.


    ¡°What is your name?¡± The man drew out each word, as though speaking to a fool.


    ¡°Simon Quint¡±


    ¡°Are you a member of the merchant guild or any affiliate organization?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°What qualifications do you have?¡±


    ¡°I can carry things, cook, keep watch.¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Very well. Give this to the people at the employment desk and they will discuss what options you have.¡±


    George made his way over to the desk indicated. It seemed to him to be a needlessly complicated system, but the Meristans had made bureaucracy into an art form. Another conversation filled with a lot of pointing and miming, and George had been told he could join a caravan in two weeks that was making an early run to get a jump on some of the smaller outfits. The route wound its way north to the capital before looping the rest of the country and into Naxos on the way back to Lanport. Lodging for two weeks in the city was going to cut into a large part of his savings, but it would still be better than paying for passage north, and less conspicuous. He hoped he wasn¡¯t important enough to follow this far, but better cautious and alive than conspicuously dead. He crested a rise in the city and saw the countryside extending next to the coast. It was warm enough here to sleep outside, especially for a mage like him, but if the local soldiers found a lone Laskarian camping near the city he¡¯d be shipped home if he was lucky, and left full of lead if he wasn¡¯t.


    George wandered back past the affluent areas of the city, into the rougher neighborhoods by the docks. The smell was still atrocious but his coin would go farther here. A worn-down inn called The Salty Mermaid had an empty room they rented to him without asking any questions. The bed was a wooden board with a thin layer of blankets, the food was awful, and the barroom was too loud, but it would do. He¡¯d slept in worse. He would hole up here and try to pick up some more of the language before it was time to leave.


    ********


    The guildhall looked the same as the last time he¡¯d ventured into this part of town to sign up. Following the instructions he¡¯d been given, George made his way inside to a room where a group of people were already gathered. They would be his fellow porters, the cooks, the animal keepers and some other assorted roles for the caravan. The guards were coming from the Mercenary Guild and would meet them at the warehouse along with the merchants themselves. One lecture on procedure and policy later, they were on the way to the warehouse at the edge of the city.


    George would almost be sad to leave. The last few years, trying to focus on his magic while he was in a city or large town had been horrible. Like trying to breathe while a bear was sitting on his chest. The magic in the air was too much, and moving too quickly. Most of the magehunters had taken more and more missions, just to be further from the population centers. Lanport had been a breath of fresh air, despite first impressions at the port. Though that could have been his relief at having two oceans and a continent between him and the rest of the magehunters. He loitered with the other porters, keeping his head down and facing slightly away from the street so no one would make eye contact and remember him. Instead, he sent a trickle of magic to his ears. Long years of practice let him filter out the ambient noise of the city, letting the nearby conversations come to the fore.


    ¡°Are we getting something like that? If there¡¯s one sea monster there¡¯s another.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t touch that. Be good and we can stop by the bakery on the way home.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I heard more recruits than the last three years combined.¡±


    ¡°Thank you again for those deliveries Master Huran, you don¡¯t know how much bother you¡¯ve saved me.¡±


    The mention of the caravan leader caught him off guard and George focused on those voices, tuning out the rest. A woman, clearly wealthy, with a trace of an accent.


    ¡°Not at all Madam Skycrest, you know we always appreciate your business.¡±


    A few more pleasantries were exchanged while the final checks were made on the wagons that would carry merchandise, and the merchants, north. George was still focusing on the conversation when he felt the faintest piece of magic brush up against him. He panicked. With all the subtlety of a rhino he ripped his magic away from his ears and shoved it back down. Sounds were muted for a few moments while he readjusted to normal hearing. His heart was racing and it took every bit of self control he had to keep from sprinting off. If someone had noticed him, running away would be sure to get him caught. Instead he carried on leaning against a wagon near the other porters. In his periphery he checked to see if anyone was paying close attention, but he couldn¡¯t see anything out of the ordinary.


    ¡°Alright you lot, load up.¡± Their leader had finished his conversation and was ready to shout the workers into action. George complied with the rest, shuffling off to his designated spot, avoiding eye contact without looking like he was avoiding eye contact. His heart still racing, he faked a stretch to see if anyone shady was hovering around. No one was out of place. As the first carriages were about to start moving towards the gates, the same voice from before interrupted.


    ¡°Master Huran, if you don¡¯t mind, may I hold you up for a moment?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Madam Skycrest, anything for such an honored customer.¡±


    The woman, Madam Skycrest, stepped up so that she was halfway down the line of wagons, visible to the entire caravan. She was a striking middle-aged woman, with laugh lines around the corners of her eye, in a pale yellow silk outfit that probably could have paid for George¡¯s entire childhood home.


    ¡°Hello everyone, my name is Theresa Skycrest. I am currently acting as the magical warden of Lanport. That means I work to keep the magic around the city safe, and keep magical effects away from anyone that might get hurt. I thought I noticed someone in the area using magic a few moments ago.¡±


    She paused here as if for comment. George¡¯s heart was going to beat out of his chest but he followed everyone else¡¯s lead and looked around the caravan with a confused frown.


    ¡°Now, as you may know, the official Meristan stance on magic is to keep out of a citizen¡¯s private affairs. Nevertheless, we are looking to train more wardens for other areas of the country. If anyone has any interest, we would work with the officers of the fort to get you a salary and formal training.¡±


    No one moved. George heartily approved of his coworkers at that moment. He wouldn¡¯t be caught dead taking up that offer, even if he weren¡¯t from a country antagonistic to Merista. If any of the other laborers had a magic talent, they weren¡¯t stupid enough to announce it either. Madam Skycrest looked at each carriage, and George made sure to make the appropriate nervous eye contact.


    ¡°Very well, I won¡¯t hold you up any more, safe travels.¡±


    ¡°And a warm hearth to you Madam Skycrest.¡± Master Huran gave a hearty wave and then the wagons began to move in earnest. Once they were out of the city and miles down the road, George let go of a small amount of the tension he¡¯d been holding since he entered the country. One more leg and his journey would be over. Then it was just convincing a group of magic users that he was worth protecting.

 Ch 62 - Island Hopping

    Laurel tilted her head back, letting the sun beat down on her skin as she relaxed. Maria and Kat¡¯s even breaths a pleasant cadence as they lounged to either side. They hadn¡¯t brought the right supplies for a day at the beach, but a break was necessary. The weeks of constant vigilance and stress were impacting the entire team. She was fine, this level of activity was nothing new for her. But the kids and soldiers were running the ragged edge. Even Kat and Maria, the most experienced officers in their little group were starting to fray. Laurel was well aware it was her fault. After the fight with other cultivators, Laurel had pushed them all to travel faster and keep the pace up. They hadn¡¯t let up after the jungle either. As fascinating as Laurel had found Saralhasa¡¯s domain, the rest of the group was jumping at every shadow afterwards. The Hashram Dunes had been less exciting but the spirit beasts that burrowed under the sand and burst out whenever they got too close had made the others even more twitchy. So Laurel had called for a rest day.


    They couldn¡¯t have found a better place for a break. This southern leg of their journey took them across the Somorin Archipelago. It was their only option to fly across the southern ocean with reliable places to stop overnight for the pilots. Otherwise they would have to backtrack through Lanport, which given the unexpected competition from other cultivators, Laurel was loath to do. Now, while they were still in the uninhabited areas, it was a good place to stop. The island they had chosen was a tiny one. Big enough to support some trees and not much else. But the beach was wide enough for a landing spot for the planes, and there was a natural lagoon for all their relaxation needs.


    The younger members of their party were taking advantage of the crystal clear waters. The soldiers were engaged in some sort of game involving sitting on each other''s shoulders and attempting to tackle the others into the water. Rebecca was swimming and communing with her new friend, who was perched on her back, like Rebecca was his own personal boat. Laurel was quietly hopeful about that situation. Soulbound companions weren¡¯t common, but cultivators that had one took great joy in the experience. On the other side of the lagoon, Leander was standing stock still in waist-deep water near some rock formations. Time had eroded them into a series of nooks and crannies that offered shade and shelter from the unrelenting sun. The boy had some interesting ideas about what a cultivator should be able to do. Today, he had decided to catch fish with his bare hands. It wasn¡¯t clear if Martin had mentioned something, or if the idea came from the penny novels sold back in Merista that the boy had devoured after learning to read. Or maybe Leander¡¯s imagination was running wild after a lifetime of staying quiet. Whatever it was, he continued to come up with ¡°training exercises¡± when they stopped in the evenings along with keeping the plants alive on their journey. Laurel felt he was approaching an idea of protecting the sect to anchor his cultivation. Too much interference at this stage would be terrible for him, so the plants would have to be enough.


    ¡°Any chance you have some rum and fruit juice in that tattoo of yours?¡± Maria was still fully reclined on her blanket, with one arm thrown over her eyes to block the sun. The unflappable captain had responded with glee when Laurel suggested a beach day. Somehow she¡¯d had the foresight to pack swimwear while the rest were improvising.


    ¡°No rum, I have some wine though.¡± Laurel brought out a few glasses and a bottle of a crisp white wine from a vineyard that had been destroyed a thousand years before. She poured glasses for all three of them, Kat having sat up from her nap to join them. They clinked the glasses together and sipped, watching the antics of the rest of their team.


    ¡°How do you all think we should handle the next few island jumps? The rest of the chain is a lot more populated.¡± Kat¡¯s geography knowledge had helped them more than once on their journey, thus far, and Laurel was inclined to trust her new friend¡¯s judgment.


    ¡°I think we should stop in a larger city if we can find one. I want to see if we can find any local cultivators and if they¡¯re working for the same group as the last set. It will be good for the kids too, to get some experience with people outside of Verilia. Those that aren¡¯t trying to kill them, that is.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m in,¡± Maria said. ¡°If we stop off in Jaranda on the big island, I have instructions on how to find one of the local Meristan contacts. We can send some of the intel we have so far back home.¡±


    Kat indicated her agreement and the conversation moved onto pleasanter topics. Laurel was fascinated by the mortal upbringings they¡¯d had. Kat was from the countryside around Lanport, where her parents owned a general goods store. Maria was a northern girl, from the mountains, where she and her sisters had grown up helping out the family sheep farm. They had both joined up with the army for the university tuition, and stayed in because they enjoyed the lifestyle. As officers in niche roles like special forces and the relatively new air division, they¡¯d traveled around Merista and its neighbors for some of the more interesting missions available.


    In turn, they were entertained by her own stories. Fighting in tournaments, rescuing mortals from natural disasters, even the everyday quirks of living in a sect were like stories out of fiction to the army officers. Laurel was in the middle of a rendition of her and her friends stealing a bottle of wine from the sect stores when Rebecca came and flopped down on her own blanket.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t he great?!¡± She held up her lemur, who looked like a dripping cat after their dip.


    ¡°Does he have a name yet?¡± Maria had been surprising all of them with how interested she was in their new team member. Laurel thought it made sense after hearing she had dogs and cats in the house growing up.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°I think Flint. A good name for my gray boy.¡± She announced the name while nuzzling the lemur, wet fur and all.


    A loud splashing dragged their attention away from Flint and out into the lagoon. Leander was now submerged, with only a hand held above the water, clutching a wriggling fish. He got his feet back under him and stood, lifting the fish in victory. A cheer went up from the rest of the soldiers as he tried hanging on while it thrashed to escape.


    ********


    The city was loud, but not Meristan-loud and not jungle-loud either. Though there were cawing birds and the ever-present hum of insects in the background still. The people themselves were shouting everywhere. Maybe it sounded strange because he couldn¡¯t understand most of it. Laurel could learn languages from reading people¡¯s minds but she said it was going to be a long time before he could do the same. Leander let the sounds wash over him while sticking close to the group. Following Laurel¡¯s lead, he kept his shoulders back, eyes looking around. Cultivators walked with confidence. A few people stopped and stared as they walked through the crowded market. Or at least they stared at where Flint was perched across Rebecca¡¯s shoulder. Flint would be part of the sect too, so Leander made sure to note anyone who watched him for too long.


    They came to a tavern on one end of a crowded market. It was basically the same as the Rifle and Crown, where they had celebrated the initial cultivating breakthroughs in the sect. Leander was pretty sure all taverns were basically the same but the soldiers had strong opinions on the differences. Now that they had Esther, they didn¡¯t celebrate there anymore, but he had enjoyed it. Most taverns wouldn¡¯t let street kids in, or any kids that were too young, so it had been his first time. Once they had a table in the back corner, he gestured around at the room and looked at Laurel. That would have to be enough, Major Kat told him it would be a bad idea for him to use the stone in public when they left her outside the city with the planes and some of the other pilots.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Laurel watched him but still seemed confused.


    He gestured around the tavern again, then pulled out the pocket-sized world map Annette had given him and pointed to the capital.


    ¡°Oh. Yeah, taverns are pretty much the same everywhere. Different drinks, new food, varying levels of comfort, but always the same idea.¡± Leander nodded to himself, Laurel usually knew what he meant.


    He went back to observing the other people. Street kids were good at telling the people rich enough to be dangerous from those with enough to be comfortable but not scary. He saw more of the second type and none of the first. It was in the clothes. Anything too noticeable said someone wasn¡¯t afraid of anything. The people at the bar had the same bright colors and loose fits he¡¯d seen in the market, but nothing that screamed ¡°expensive - don¡¯t touch¡±. There were a smattering of people in laborer clothes playing some sort of card game on another table, but they were happy-loud and not angry-loud.


    A young man, maybe a few years older and a few handspans taller than him showed up at their table, wearing an apron. Captain Varska said something to him in the local language, and handed over some coins. She gestured to Flint during part of the conversation as well, the man nodding along at her words and glancing around the table with wide eyes. The group chatted quietly and a few minutes later, the man returned carrying a tray of food. A savory soup, with greens and noodles was put in front of him. The steam wafting off it carried hints of beef and some spices he couldn¡¯t name but smelled amazing. The rest of the table got their own bowlfuls along with weird spoons and sticks to eat it with. Flint was presented with a tiny bowl of fruit instead. Seeing the general confusion around the table, Captain Varska demonstrated the way to eat the dish, using the spoon for the broth and the sticks for the noodles. They all dug in, the sharp, bright flavors a pleasant difference from the heartier Meristan fare Leander was used to. He dripped quite a lot, and some of his noodles ended up on the table or floor. Those got slipped into Flint¡¯s fruit bowl when no one was looking.


    ¡°Hey. Nice monkey. How much?¡±


    The surprise at hearing Meristan hit him before the actual meaning of the words.


    ¡°He¡¯s not for sale!¡± Rebecca looked ready to jump at the man accosting them. He was one of the well-off but not rich customers. The slurred words and gentle sway, even when standing still, pointed to a man that had been drinking with purpose for a while. Another thing you learned to spot on the streets. If you were smart. Leaning around him Leander could see a couple of his friends coming over to see what was going on.


    ¡°Come on, everything¡¯s for sale. And we¡¯re celebrating!¡± This was announced with a wave of his arms that had the man stumbling to the side. ¡°We just struck it big. And we could use a monkey to join the crew, set us apart. Great marketing. So really, name a price.¡± The friends had joined him now and Leander tensed up.


    ¡°Go away, you can¡¯t have Flint.¡± Rebecca was standing, fearless.


    ¡°Forget this.¡± One of the man¡¯s friends must have had enough, because next thing they knew, he was leaning over to grab Flint. The lemur shrieked and scampered out of reach.


    Before anyone could say anything else, Rebecca hauled back and punched the man right in the face. ¡°Ouch!¡± She was bent over holding her hand, but that was the last Leander could follow before chaos broke out.


    One of the drunks was coming towards him and a chair tumbled down to the side. He set his feet the way Martin taught and tried for a kick. Right when it should have hit the other guy, another chair hit his leg and made him fall over. He scrambled up and tackled the man instead, going for the midsection. Shouts in more than one language were crowding the air. It sounded like the whole bar had gotten in on the fight. There was no time to worry about that though. He had landed on top of his opponent but was freezing. This was his first bar fight and he wasn¡¯t sure of the rules.


    While Leander was distracted, the man beneath him heaved and Leander went flying a couple meters away. Both combatants got to their feet to face off again. Leander reset his stance and waited for the other man. To his surprise, instead of attacking again, the man staggered a few steps to the side and heaved, vomiting up whatever he had been drinking. Leander was sure that counted as a win as he turned to find someone else threatening his sect.


    ********


    Laurel enjoyed her soup while the rest of the bar erupted into a fight. Maria remained sitting as well. The kids could handle this on their own, and if not, well, there were consequences for starting a fight in public. Best to learn those early. She handed a slice of fruit up to Flint where he was sitting on the back of her chair. The weak spirit beast knew where it would be safest, and had bolted behind Laurel when the fight began.


    ¡°Dinner and a show eh,¡± Maria joked beside her.


    ¡°It''s good practice for the kids fighting someone who isn¡¯t trying to kill you.¡±


    ¡°Are we worried about them pulling out any cultivator tricks in a bar fight?¡±


    Laurel snorted. ¡°They don¡¯t know any tricks yet, but I¡¯ll stop it if it goes too far.¡± They resumed eating, chatting as the rest of the group finished the fight. Mostly about how much the owner was going to demand from them, and how to make the kids work off the debt.

 Ch 63 - Masters

    The following day Laurel returned to the city alone. It had taken some convincing but this wasn¡¯t a conversation for young cultivators. The ambient mana was too smooth for a city of this size. Even though Jaranda was much smaller than Verilia, the mana turbulence would have been enough to make cultivating difficult if someone wasn¡¯t helping things along. This city had a functioning Core, which meant there were cultivators around, strong ones. In their tour of the market the day before, she had asked around about open spaces and been informed of the Governor¡¯s Park, an area  on the eastern edge of the city, a slice of the island preserved as undeveloped space for the locals to use for leisure. She went in and found a secluded area with some stone benches surrounding a small pool, a handful of tall trees perfectly framing a view of the ocean.


    Ensuring there was no one nearby, she dropped her veil and flared her mana. Extremely rude of her in another sect¡¯s territory, but it was the fastest way to get the local¡¯s attention without resorting to more visible means. If whoever was cultivating the Core was doing so without the government¡¯s knowledge, that would stir up trouble she wanted to avoid. Deciding it had been long enough, she veiled herself again and settled in to wait. It wouldn¡¯t be long.


    That prediction proved correct, as ten minutes later, a woman walked over and sat on the other bench. She wore clothes similar to the rest of the locals, loose and light to combat the heat, in layered shades of green. Long, gray-tinged locs were tied in a tail, leaving sharp eyes examining Laurel in turn. No mana was coming off her, which pointed to extreme control. Taking a risk, Laurel decided to be the one to break the silence, and she spoke in Alrasian.


    ¡°Laurel Stormblade, sectmaster of the Eternal Archive, I¡¯ve come to pay respects while visiting your city.¡±


    The other woman¡¯s eyes flared wide, at the language or in recognition of the name, Laurel couldn¡¯t tell. ¡°Welcome to Jaranda, Laurel Stormblade. My name is Jade Treeborn of the Southern Wardens, the protector of this city,¡± She replied in perfect Alrasian, all but announcing that she was from the same time as Laurel.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be direct, Jade. Are you a member of the group that attempted to cripple the world? If so, tell me now and we can skip to the fight.¡±


    A slow smile spread across the other woman¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯d heard of you by reputation, Stormblade, I¡¯m glad to see it was all true. I woke years ago in a stasis chamber on the mainland to the north, with no recollection of how I got there. I returned to the island where my sect had lived to find this city built up, but no sect. It has been many years, and even their memory of us has faded into oblivion, but my duty to this land and this people has not. They know nothing of the dangers in a world with mana so I have been cultivating the Core and protecting the city.


    ¡°If, as you say, some group has done this on purpose, I am not one of them.¡±


    Laurel relaxed. She had sensed nothing behind the other woman¡¯s veil, but was inclined to believe her. The sorrow in her voice when talking about the loss of her family was not something easily faked.


    ¡°My story is the same, in spirit if not in details. I awoke alone in the ruins of a sect I was supposed to be helping. Laskarians have¡­ concerning views on magic, and I was attacked when I approached the mortals as a cultivator. Finding my sect gone and the area hostile, I traveled to Merista and have since re-established my sect in the capital there. It was only recently I learned of the conspiracy while hunting for resources.¡± She skimmed past the more painful memories in her tale, keeping to the broader details to stay in control.


    ¡°I see.¡± They sat in silence for a moment.  ¡°Well what now, Laurel Stormblade? We can fight, as you said, though I don¡¯t think it will go exactly as you may expect.¡±


    Laurel gave a seated half-bow in apology. ¡°I have no wish to fight. Well, perhaps a spar if you are open to it. But I do have a need for allies. Laskar is looking for war, and there are groups of cultivators still operating from the same group that trapped us. We need as much strength as we can get.¡±


    ¡°A sect alliance with the Eternal Archive, how prestigious. I couldn¡¯t possibly pass that up. Resources to resist Laskar will be trickier. The local government is not fully aware of me. I¡¯ve started training a few students, but they are still so young.¡±


    ¡°I sympathize, I have a few of my own along with me. We can start with the sect alliance.¡±


    They stayed up long into the night. First, they discussed the terms of an alliance between their sects. This was standard, though Laurel had never been part of forming such an agreement before. She was sure the goodwill her sect had garnered in Merista could be leveraged to gain Jade an official relationship with the government in Somorin as well. After all, the woman had been keeping the majority of the public safe from random monster attacks or other mana manifestations. As the shadows grew longer and the sun set over the horizon they discussed how out of place they both felt.


    ¡°It was like my heart broke anew each day. These people, for all they¡¯ve advanced, are not so different from those who lived here in the past. But every steamship in port or newspaper tossed into the street is a reminder that my people died without me. I¡¯m the only one who remembers them now. You¡¯re lucky so much of your sect¡¯s legacy survived. Our library was not so well-secured, our secrets were stolen or shattered when the world changed.¡± Jade described her struggle trying to remain unnoticed while cultivating the City Core, working as a wise-woman to the locals to afford her accommodations.


    ¡°When your students are advanced enough, have them visit. I can offer them all one technique of an appropriate level from the library.¡±


    ¡°You would do such a thing?¡±


    ¡°For our allies, yes. For my personal goals, I suspect we will need as many competent cultivators as we can get in the coming years.¡±


    *******


    Martin strolled down the main thoroughfare of the Garion district. Skeletal trees defiantly budded amid the latest spring snow, while warmth and light spilled out of the restaurants he was passing. Spring it might be but northern Merista had not gotten the notice. It reminded him of home. He found the right restaurant and entered, brushing past the host with a smile and sailing into the dining room. Without pausing he made his way to the table in the middle and took a seat, just as the server was leaving.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have whatever he¡¯s having, thanks love.¡± The man looked confused but wrote down the order and left Martin sitting across from a slender man wearing an impeccably-cut suit in a ridiculous crimson paisley pattern. They stared at each other for a few moments.


    ¡°Devon you twat, what are you doing here?¡±


    The waiter chose that moment to reappear, stumbling at Martin¡¯s language. He caught himself and poured wine for both of them before scampering away again.


    ¡°Fuck you, Martin. Maybe I¡¯m here to have dinner with an old friend. You could be happy to see me, you know.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah? You just stopped in after a millennium and a half to say hello?¡±


    They were interrupted again as their salads were delivered by an increasingly nervous waitstaff. Martin didn¡¯t need a master cultivator¡¯s senses to hear the discussions around the room. This restaurant was trendy enough right now that several of the patrons had recognized him from his recent forays into the local art scene.


    ¡°Well, if you put it so bluntly, I am in something of a bind. Much like yourself I found myself waking up recently in a prison. Some prick I¡¯d never heard of before was waiting to tell me about ¡®how things were now¡¯. I dealt with him of course ¨C¡±


    ¡°You dealt with someone?¡±


    ¡°Ouch, Martin, I¡¯m not completely inept in a fight. And whoever they sent was an expert at best. Even I can punch down when it''s called for. I had to get out of the new Laskarian Empire in a hurry. Unlike you, I didn¡¯t have someone picking up my entire sect¡¯s legacy and smuggling it out to set up somewhere else. Who did that by the way, Imelda?¡±


    ¡°Laurel.¡±


    Devon whipped his head around, and finding nothing, closed his eyes to sweep the surroundings with his spiritual sense. ¡°The madwoman is right behind me, isn¡¯t she?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s mellowed since that tournament. But no, she¡¯s out of the city on sect business at the moment.¡±


    ¡°Anyway, the point remains that my sect¡¯s legacy stone is still at large. I can hardly move forward until I get it back, but with the way things are looking, I¡¯m not sure I have the right kind of skillset to retrieve it. The whole world has heard about the mages defending this city, so I decided to stop by in the hopes it would be a friendly face.¡± He ended with a shrug that was meant to be casual, but it was clearly not so simple.


    Martin leaned back and surveyed the man. Devon was a bit annoying sometimes, but he wasn¡¯t a bad guy. It was true that he wasn¡¯t a combat-oriented cultivator, but people underestimated him at their own risk. He was also an excellent enchanter, something the entire country, maybe the world, was notably lacking.


    ¡°Tell me this, Devon. How am I supposed to know you¡¯re telling the truth? Treachery is what got us here in the first place. How do I know if I go with you, I don¡¯t end up delivered into our enemies¡¯ hands? Are you even sure the legacy stone is still intact, that they haven¡¯t already looted it, cracked it open and sucked out the secrets?¡±


    All traces of joking dropped off the man¡¯s face. ¡°For the first, I¡¯ll tap into the City Core and swear an oath. With what I can tell, it''s definitely developed enough for that. For the second, I¡¯m sure. My mentor was the one who placed the wards around the Legacy Stone. They could operate in null ambient mana, and no one outside the sect would be able to retrieve it. I can still feel that the link is active, they don¡¯t have it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m inclined to help, but it¡¯s complicated. I can¡¯t leave until Laurel gets back, at least. Do you even have a plan once you get it?¡±


    Devon waved his hand around the room. ¡°The same as you. I¡¯ll start a new version of the sect. Find some people to teach. Get materials to craft. Learn the new techniques and perfect them. Leave this backwater world for something new, eventually.¡±


    Their dinner arrived and the conversation halted to appreciate the food. It was some sort of bird, stewed in wine and herbs, served over rice, with roasted root vegetables tossed in a spice blend Martin hadn¡¯t heard of before.


    ¡°This is excellent. How did you even hear about this place, you just got to the city,¡± Martin asked.


    ¡°Oh, some chap in the market I was hanging around in. I think his brother is our waiter.¡±


    ¡°You have frustratingly good taste. In food at least, that suit is hideous.¡±


    ¡°You have a leg to stand on there, not in that getup.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t until dessert that they got back to discussing business. A decadent vanilla mousse that melted in his mouth was a nice distraction until it was time to get to it.


    ¡°Let''s talk terms. We help you retrieve your sect Legacy Stone and reestablish your sect. You do so in a city in Merista, or an allied country, that needs help with their City Core, which you will provide. Your sect swears a supportive alliance with ours. And we send people to you to learn enchanting, you can send people to us to learn how to fight.¡±


    ¡°Agreed.¡± Devon took a sip of his wine. ¡°Not like I have much of a choice unless I want to join up with the Laskarians.¡±


    They finished dinner and stood to leave. Martin clapped Devon on the shoulder with a friendly smile. ¡°Let¡¯s get this oath over with then. Also if you¡¯re lying I''ll rip your heart out.¡±


    Their poor server was coming over to clear the table and stared at them aghast. Martin flipped him a silver as a tip for the stressful evening and they made their way back through town to the sect house, catching up on the time since they¡¯d last met.


    Devon let out a slow whistle as they approached the sect house. ¡°That is some quality enchanting work on the dome. There¡¯s no way you and Laurel did that.¡±


    ¡°City Core design considered it part of the building. The city¡¯s so big we have mana to spare and could use it for perfect directions. Laurel had the Core project the pattern and she etched it in and infused it.¡±


    ¡°That woman has more luck than cultivation, I swear,¡± Devon muttered.


    They made their way inside and up to the rotunda. If Devon didn¡¯t turn out to be a lying liar, Martin figured Annette could have one of the kids give the full tour and absolve him of the responsibility. Most of the sect was lounging around when they entered. The kids were scattered around the room, some reading, some cultivating, most relaxing and joking around after dinner. Another few months and the next batch would be ready to open their meridians and start some real cultivating. Seeing the eyes turned towards him, Martin figured it would be easiest to do this all at once.


    ¡°Hi everyone. This is Devon.¡± He gestured vaguely at the man next to him. ¡°He was an acquaintance from another sect, back in the day, and he wants to form an alliance. I¡¯m going to make him swear an oath on the City Core and kill him if he¡¯s lying.¡±


    Annette stood up from the central area where she and Adam were engaged in what looked like an intense game of byd. ¡°Martin,¡± she said sweetly, ¡°please don¡¯t announce murder without discussing it first.¡±


    ¡°Who is she? I like her.¡± Devon said, not intimidated by the threat, or at least not showing it.


    ¡°Introductions after, come on.¡±


    The two masters walked over to the crystal pedestal acting as the manifested anchor for the City Core. Golden light still cycled through it and the map on top picked out the city and surroundings in minute detail.


    ¡°Okay everyone, quick overview. A City Core that is developed far enough, can imprint oaths on people¡¯s souls. If the oath is broken, cosmic mana tears that person apart. Or at least their cultivation. In theory a mortal might survive. There¡¯s more to it but that¡¯s the basic idea.¡±


    Not wasting any time Devon placed both hands on the pedestal and opened his mana. Martin followed suit. Any noise had cut off as the sect gathered around for the show. The golden light in the pedestal started cycling faster. A glow began to pulse like a heartbeat, faster and faster. When it reached a crescendo, Devon spoke.


    ¡°I have not, am not, and never will be involved with the organization that defiled the world to restrict cosmic mana flows, nor those who are attempting to control the world¡¯s cultivators now. I swear this on my cultivation, my sect, and my life.¡±


    ¡°I hear and accept this oath.¡±


    The glow became blinding, suffusing through both Devon and Martin. When the light faded, the two men were still standing in the same position, eyes closed. Martin broke contact first. Stepping back from the pedestal he led the sect leaders and Devon back to the couches and began pouring tea. They had much to discuss and he could now hand the responsibility off to Annette in good faith.

 Ch 64 - Back in the Saddle

    Their little plane squadron was flying over the remaining edges of the Somorin Archipelago. The eastern half had been much more populous, but the people were still spread out when compared to Merista or Laskar. Each island was like its own contained world, with different plants and unique animals, along with their own traditions and views on strangers stopping by. They were almost to the end of the chain, after a few weeks in the tropical paradise. They would camp somewhere tonight and then fly north to Naxos, the other major power that split the Terrignion continent with Merista. Once they finished there they would turn west and loop back home.


    One island coming up felt unusual to Laurel¡¯s senses. Like the mana was massing at one end, with a line cut across the center. It took her a few minutes before she swore and told Kat they needed to land. The affable Major signaled the rest of the pilots, and they put down behind a small village. Laurel leapt out of the plane but had to wait for Maria before they hurried over to the village. Somorins had poured out of their homes when the planes approached, a man and woman now walked to meet where Laurel and Maria were quickly hustling over to the village. Laurel started talking while Maria translated.


    ¡°Hello. I¡¯m not sure how familiar you are with magic, but unfortunately I will have to go rather quickly. There is a phenomenon on the other end of your island called a mana font. It is an area that absorbs magic over time. When it reaches a certain critical amount of magic, the font spews it back out in the form of monsters or other unusual effects. This can be dangerous if you are not prepared to deal with the result. Do you understand so far?¡±


    ¡°Who are you, what are you talking about? No, that doesn¡¯t make sense.¡± The man answered rather curtly, though it was admittedly filtered through Maria¡¯s comprehension of the local language, which was good but not subtle.


    Laurel tried again. ¡°You are in danger. Have you noticed unusual animals or plants showing up occasionally?¡± The woman admitted this was the case, though the strangers both looked skeptical. ¡°Something like that but much more dangerous is about to happen. We will help you.¡± By then, the rest of Laurel¡¯s team had arrived.


    ¡°We¡¯re just supposed to believe you?¡±


    Laurel almost screamed. ¡°Yes! I¡¯m trying to help you all, you miserable bastard.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go ahead and skip that last part,¡± Maria muttered before translating.


    The two village leaders took a few steps back to discuss. Not far enough to have actual privacy if Laurel spoke the language but probably enough that Maria couldn¡¯t eavesdrop. Just in case, she cocked an eyebrow at her friend. Maria shook her head. The man returned to them while the woman went back into the village and started calling out something.


    ¡°I will go with you to investigate. If it turns out you are telling the truth, we will accept your assistance.¡±


    Laurel kept from rolling her eyes. Just barely, but she did it. How magnanimous, to accept the assistance. They hurried back to the planes and gave a quick explanation to Kat and Trip, who hopped back into their seats to start the engines. They took off, following Laurel¡¯s direction to the other end of the island. The mana had contracted even further, maybe a tenth of the island now enclosed in the boundary. It was dense enough that there was a glowing crack in the air, visible from their low altitude.


    As they watched, a shape emerged, covered in glittering light. It was a series of interconnected and overlapping rings, rotating around a central ball that pulsed with green light. Next a black-scaled snake, thicker around that Laurel¡¯s thigh slithered out of the opening. The ring creature faded to be almost invisible, while the snake¡¯s tongue flicked out, scenting the air for threats. The crack had faded when the two monsters pushed out into the world, and was now increasing in brightness again.


    ¡°Back, back,¡± Laurel shouted. The pilots listened and they were winging their way to the village at top speed. The village leader¡¯s face was slightly green, from the flying or what he had seen she wasn¡¯t sure.


    They landed to find the soldiers waiting for them, along with a few armed villagers. Laurel wasted no time in issuing orders.


    ¡°I¡¯ll hunt down the offworld beasts. You all won¡¯t be able to see them well anyway, and guns won¡¯t be effective. We¡¯ll need everyone else to keep the spirit beasts back. Guns might work, or might not, so grab something sharp as well. Do you have any boats or anything? Good, fall back onto those if you start to get overwhelmed. It''s unlikely we¡¯ll see anything aquatic since the Font is on land.¡±


    Maria had rapidly translated, and the villager that had witnessed the Font added some shouted words as well, getting everyone moving. When Maria had everything in hand, Laurel went hunting.


    ********


    Leander was holding the daggers he had been given in each hand, standing with two villagers and Colin, all hoisting rifles. Major Kat and Captain Varska had decided to spread the cultivators around, in case they needed magic to help kill the beasts they found. The groups were spaced out in an arc around the village, facing the forested part of the island. He was surprisingly calm. He had spent weeks fighting the spirit beasts that jumped out as the group was searching for natural treasures. Laurel had always been there to help if they failed, but this meant she finally trusted him enough to protect the others.


    He settled into the breathing rhythm he liked best for cultivating and focused on the knives. Laurel had agreed to teach him a basic technique she used with her swords and if he could hold it during the fight it would strengthen the metal and make it sharper. His mana was circulating through his limbs as normal and he sped it up. Just a little though, as his memory of Laurel¡¯s instruction chided him. If he pushed too hard he wouldn¡¯t be able to keep it going through the entire battle. Once it was moving a little faster, he tried sending a trickle into the knives. He and Rebecca had been shocked when they reached the islands and Laurel told them these were magic weapons. Made specifically for new cultivators like them. It made him feel a little better about not being trusted with a gun.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Trees in their section started rustling. He dropped into his stance, he wouldn¡¯t fall over this time. The monsters were here. Everyone watched as a snake and some sort of bird with red feathers emerged. The snake came directly for them while the bird went to circle overhead. The soldier next to him swore.


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll aim for the bird. You two get the snake. Leander, help them and keep a lookout.¡± He conveyed most of this with taps and hand gestures but it seemed to work.


    The villagers aimed at the snake while Colin tried to sight down the bird, which kept moving at angles Leander didn¡¯t think should be possible. He looked back in time to see the snake fall to the villager¡¯s bullets. It would have been worth celebrating if another three didn¡¯t come out of the woods behind it, all with some sort of mana coming off them in waves he could feel. The locals didn¡¯t panic. Instead they kept aiming for the snakes, scoring a hit about half the time. Monsters were tough, though, and it took a few shots to kill one, then they would need to reload.


    Leander was about to suggest he try and cut some in half when a turtle lumbered out behind the snakes. Over half as tall as Leander himself, its shell gave off a faint golden light as it plodded forward. Colin had taken down the first bird, but was dealing with more, keeping them away from the others and trying to pick them off while they flew around. The others were still fighting the snakes. The turtle moved slowly, but it was coming at them from a different angle. Did bullets work on turtles? Probably not magic turtles. Leander could even see a faint shine on its shell that matched the golden light. Regular turtles didn¡¯t shine. This would be his fight, to keep it off his team.


    He ran straight at it, skidding to a stop a few meters away. Peering through the greenery behind the beast, Leander confirmed it was alone. The turtle hadn¡¯t reacted to his challenge. It kept walking, steadily getting closer. He was ready. Deep stance, comfortable grip on his knives. When it was close enough to see the swirling brown patterns on its shell, Leander lunged. It was the only thing that saved him from a vicious wound. The turtle had whipped its head forward faster than any turtle should be able to move. A long gash was opened on Leander¡¯s shoulder. As his blood pumped out, he felt panic begin to rise.


    His own slash had missed the vulnerable head and skittered across the shell, leaving only the faintest white line, even with the mana reinforcing his blade. He ducked and rolled to the side. The impact on his injured shoulder almost made him collapse but he hung onto consciousness by a thread. The turtle had kept walking forward in its slow march toward Leander¡¯s teammates. A look was enough to confirm no help was coming. The others were holding their own but no one was going to be able to deal with the turtle. A quick jog and Leander was once more blocking its path. His hands shook but he kept a grip of his knives. Again he slashed out, but the turtle used its speed to dodge its head out of the way. Then Leander was scrambling to the side as it snapped towards him.


    The turtle marched on while Leander¡¯s face burned with shame. He was slower than a turtle, he was too bad with his knives to do real damage. It would get to his friends and hurt them, maybe kill one of them, or the villagers. He could see them frantically putting barricades between huts, but the beasts would still get in. They would fail. It would be his fault. He couldn¡¯t even shout for help. Laurel was going to make him leave the sect because he was too stupid and too weak and too useless to be a cultivator. No no no no NO! He wouldn¡¯t let that happen.


    His mana was already cycling and he urged it faster. He gave a silent thank you to Laurel for insisting he and Rebecca learned how to do this even though it was boring to practice. The mana flooded his limbs. He was unstoppable. One more deep breath and he sprinted directly at the turtle. Leading with the uninjured shoulder, he tucked his head and bent down. With every drop of mana he could control infusing his body, Leander struck the turtle on the side of its shell.


    In his mind the turtle would flip over, and he would be left standing over its exposed underbelly. He was half right. The turtle fell on to the side, and then slipped onto its back. Leander followed it down, his momentum carrying him to the ground on the other side of the turtle.


    Small rocks scraped his exposed skin. Leander scrambled to get up. His wound was bleeding even more and the beast¡¯s flailing limbs thwacked him in the side. He staggered up, feeling like he¡¯d had too much of Laurel¡¯s wine, barely able to focus. He remembered the goal though, and picked up one of his dropped daggers. The monster was still thrashing, its shell now fully golden. Its head couldn¡¯t reach him at the side and the legs couldn¡¯t reach to push the body back upright. Rearing back, he brought a blade down and ended the beast.


    Leander wanted nothing more than to have Laurel heal him and then sleep for a full day. But his friends were still in danger so he forced himself to trudge back to his group. He fell into the formation just in time to see two more turtles come out of the forest, one with a shell glowing bronze, the other silver. Tears held back by pure stubbornness, Leander approached the beasts. At least he had a way of beating them.


    *********


    Laurel ducked under a beam of pure mana coming from behind her. She noticed it shear through the trunk of the tree as she spun and darted towards the offworld beast. The foliage was too dense for flight so air mana was directed to help her glide over the forest floor. She landed next to the monster and swung her reinforced blade through the rings and into the core. The light the thing emitted dimmed to nothing, the rings dropped and the core transmuted into a beast core of crystalized mana. Dropping the core into her storage tattoo, she sped towards where she could feel the next monster.


    The offworld monsters weren¡¯t dangerous to someone at her tier, but there were dozens of them. If even one got to the other end of the island, the village was going to need rebuilding. The next monster didn¡¯t have time to react before she dispatched it in the same efficient manner. At least these would be easy to loot. Monsters coming through a font could be anything. Often they were from other worlds, or the place between those worlds, life that was sustained in the cosmic mana flows. Alien biology was hard to determine on the fly, but these cores literally dropped into her hands.


    Five, ten, twenty more of the things were cut down. The forest here would need time to recover, but she could feel the font slowing down nearby. The pulses were far enough apart she could kill some of the normal spirit beasts in between hunting down the offworld ones. When she couldn¡¯t find anything else, she returned to the village. The battle still raged on but it was coming to a close. On the beaches there was nothing blocking her sight, or her lightning. A few well placed bolts ended the tenacious beasts still struggling. Inevitably some had escaped into the forest or the water, swimming to other islands. That was fine, healthy even. It would only strengthen the mana ecosystems in the area. Jade would be thrilled.


    Laurel saw her students clumped together. There was blood on all of them. She felt the faint stirrings of panic. Practice in a real battle was good but she had no intention of letting a serious injury go untreated. Before she reached the others, the village elders accosted her. Laurel dodged deftly around the pair and continued on. She tossed a quick ¡°later¡± over her shoulder, but she really wasn¡¯t concerned with explaining everything right now. There were more important things to deal with.


    ********


    ¡°Follow those instructions and when you find Jade give her that letter. She¡¯ll figure out a way to handle this for next time.¡± Laurel and Maria were translating a way for the village elders to contact Jade Treeborn. Resources like the mana font would be an economic boon to the village and the local cultivators if they could get a handle on it. Sects, or more likely the local military, would pay to let their members harvest the monsters or get combat practice defending the area. Laurel was considering it herself. Her students had benefited even from this slapdash version. Once patched up, she could see the subtle changes in Leander¡¯s cultivation that indicated he had decided on his path as a protector. Rebecca and Flint had deepened their bond. Laurel had a bunch of useful cores and a new ally. A good outing for the sect if she had anything to say about it.


    ¡°We can¡¯t begin to thank you. I shudder to think what would have happened if you hadn¡¯t been here to warn us.¡± The arrogant elder accusing Laurel of lying was nowhere to be seen. The man¡¯s eyes shone with gratitude as he gripped her hands tight. Laurel accepted the thanks with grace. It felt good to be getting back to her roots as a cultivator. When she diverted disasters and the local mortals were fawning with appreciation for it. It brought up happy memories when she and her friends had prevented a tsunami from destroying a village or defended the citadel against beast waves.

 Ch 65 - Stuck in a Rut

    Adam was in his office frowning at nothing. Nothing had been able to hold his focus for days. Usually he could get lost in a project. Sect work, translations, something. Even reviewing and denying the requests from the crotchety scholars that had spurned his attempts to join the world of academia weren¡¯t holding his attention. Instead his thoughts wandered back to the same problem he had contemplated all week. It started when he realized he almost always woke a moment before his alarm went off. A few days ago he had sprinted from their outdoor training pavilion to his office and realized he was barely breathing heavily. Which led him to notice that the wrist and elbow aches he had developed first as a scribe, then a store clerk, were mostly absent these days. The day after that, the younger sect students had all passed the history exam he¡¯d set them. Then Martin treated him to a string concert and dessert at a new bakery in the trendy art district he liked so much. The unsettling feeling had grown until today when he couldn¡¯t think about anything else. Focusing on the problem all afternoon forced him to an uncomfortable conclusion. Adam had a sneaking suspicion that he was deeply content. He was unsure what to do with that fact.


    Adam had always been a grump. Even unpleasant or prickly if his grandmother was to be believed. When he was a child he made excuses. Of course he was a bit difficult, he lived in the stars-cursed flats with a grandmother as mean as a whip. The old shrew knew her way around a switch and wasn¡¯t afraid to prove it. As a teen he turned that into motivation. Study a bit harder, earn a scholarship, then he won¡¯t be so miserable. It worked. He got the university scholarship, a place in the guild and everything he had wanted. But by that point, he was so used to being unpleasant to everyone that it was difficult to stop. If he reflected on it ¨C something he was very rarely in the mood to do¨C that had been one of the causes of his troubles. Nepotism and playing favorites were part of the guild. His focus on that to the exclusion of all us had made it hard for him to integrate with the others. Made him harsher and snappier until the final incident. Yes that lordling was out of line, but his own attitude led him down the path.


    The sect had been different. Laurel was impossible to phase, not that he had tried very hard when it turned out she could shoot lightning from her hand. And inexplicably, she had decided Adam¡¯s attitude was more amusing than anything else. Annette was a good friend as well, growing up with a taciturn brother meaning she gave as good as she got. Then Leander wandered in. Maybe that had been the turning point. When he truly committed and stopped looking for everything to go wrong. Martin was¡­.well Martin was still a bit of a mystery, Adam wasn¡¯t sure why the man kept seeking him out. But for the first time he could remember, Adam was optimistic for the future. The sect would be different, he would make sure of it.


    He stood and walked out of the library. There was no more work getting done today so a walk sounded like a good way to clear his head. At least it wasn¡¯t frigid outside anymore now that spring was no longer just a hope on the horizon. A brush of mana set the advanced alarms as he passed through the edge of his domain. The building was almost unrecognizable to the gray box they had moved into last year. Annette had turned it into a residence and workplace that would rival any noble¡¯s manor. He assumed. He hadn¡¯t been inside one but the point was it looked nice. Laughter echoed from whatever corner the students had found their way into. Savory aromas drifted up from the kitchens, causing Adam¡¯s stomach to gurgle in protest of his skipped lunch. Wall art or plants decorated the most used areas, adding bright colors and cheer to the dull backdrop. He drifted towards the front door, dodging Lucy and James as they careened around a corner. He was nearing the top of the stairs leading to the main entryway when he heard the shouting.


    ¡°We¡¯re back!¡±


    Adam hustled faster. When the door came into view he saw the kids that had left on their recruiting trip. Gabrielle and Helene were still well put together, not betraying a sign of the cross-country journey they had undertaken. Annette would be pleased. The boys were looking ragged but he hadn¡¯t really expected anything different. Cooper even had the patchy beginnings of a beard. Before he could even get out a ¡°welcome home¡±, a yell and the drumming of little feet cut him off.


    ¡°Errriiiiiccccc!¡± James sprinted down the stairs and launched himself at his older brother, who returned the embrace with enthusiasm. ¡°How was the trip what did you find what¡¯s on Coop¡¯s face did you do good magic¨C¡±


    The boy would have continued for another minute, Adam was fully aware, if his brother didn¡¯t cut him off. ¡°It was lots of fun, we found a witch school and some other groups around the villages, he¡¯s been trying to grow a beard for the last few weeks, and only the basics really.¡±


    ¡°I succeeded in the beard, thank you very much. And we¡¯ll be happy to share some stories, but can we do it over dinner? Whatever Esther¡¯s making smells amazing.¡±


    The rest of the sect had already found their way into the foyer, and Cooper¡¯s words sent everyone scurrying into the dining hall. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°Oh that reminds me. Esther, we picked this up for you in Nordisk.¡± Helene pulled out a soft red fur Adam recognized as from one of the foxes that lived in the northern reach the girls had gone adventuring in. ¡°We have presents for everyone!¡±


    Adam spied Cooper and Eric making frantic eye contact as he followed them to dinner. He chuckled as the lads hissed about what they could turn into gifts, joining Martin at the top of the long dining table that dominated the room. The kids had taken to calling the north end the ¡®grown-ups table¡¯ since Adam, Annette, and Laurel joined him there when they could. Today Martin waited to start the meal, everyone quieting down when he stood to lift a goblet of wine.


    ¡°To our conquering heroes! Congratulations on your first mission completed for the sect, we look forward to hearing all your adventures.¡± Martin took a swig of wine as everyone else joined in the toast, substituted with water or milk for the younger children.


    Noises of appreciation and conversation broke out along the table, everyone serving themselves the rice and duck dish with roasted winter squash that Esther had prepared. The sect was nearing three dozen now, and it was impossible to  listen to all the stories the kids had told. But Adam was able to get a general idea of success from the snippets he picked up.


    Annette looked at him from across the table. ¡°This is actually happening, we¡¯re starting a new guild.¡±


    ¡°We are.¡±


    ¡°Why is that a big deal, didn¡¯t you both already help start the first cultivation sect in the country?¡± Martin was lounging at the head of the table like a king. Or like a cultivator that could command the earth to move if he chose.


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand. A new guild in Merista means you¡¯ve done something no one else has before. Your name goes in the history books. Of course I¡¯m proud of the sect, but no one really knew what that was before us, so it was more like opening a new school.¡± Adam tried to convey the enormity of what they were doing but it was difficult to explain to someone who hadn¡¯t grown up with the guilds.


    Martin turned his full attention on him then. ¡°You¡¯re quite passionate about this project aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m ever going to be like you or Laurel, out there fighting monsters with magic. I¡¯m not going to apprentice to Devon either and learn a craft. I¡¯m a scholar, not a creator or a warrior. But this is something I can do. My way of defending the sect.¡±


    Martin absolutely beamed at Adam¡¯s declaration. He felt a hint of red in his cheeks so he quickly turned back to the meal and a large gulp of wine.


    ¡°The guilds are the cornerstone of Meristan commerce and culture. Do you think anyone turns Elisette down when she asks for a favor? Normal people don¡¯t just get that kind of power handed to them.¡± Annette had a different take on the whole thing but she was right as well.


    ¡°So you¡¯re saying we¡¯ll be establishing a new source of power. Will the King let us get away with that or are we looking at another trial?¡± Martin asked. ¡°If so you¡¯re waiting until Laurel gets back, I¡¯m not sitting through one of those without punching someone. Really, the fact you kept her from killing anyone to get it over with is impressive on its own.¡±


    ¡°We have a huge amount of goodwill built up right now after the leviathan in the fall. And Laskar upped tariffs against countries that are explicitly open to magic users last month. That will give us some leverage. Especially if Laurel comes back with a helpful magic seed or whatever they¡¯re looking for. Or if you can get your enchanter friend to do something visible for the city.¡± The three of them had spent time strategizing, but now that they were closer to actually getting the job done, the strategizing could begin in earnest.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do about Devon. He might not be too interested in doing us favors while he¡¯s still waiting for our help with his sect. But he¡¯s also bored out of his mind by now and the man doesn¡¯t handle that well.¡±


    Dinner wrapped up. Everyone not assigned to clean up thundered upstairs into the rotunda. Couches and chairs dragged across the stone. The returning sect members were ushered into the center, usually reserved for the officers. Tea brewed, they settled in for the stories of adventure.


    Cooper and Eric gave a straightforward recounting. They had gone to the school at Indell, trekking up a mountain to meet with the witches there. That story had some excitement, and Adam made note to tease out any cultivation techniques he could from this Madam Sabrina when she arrived. Afterwards they criss-crossed the backwoods areas in a rough loop to find local cultivators and make the pitch for a new guild. On some it worked and they had signed a formal letter of support. Others were naturally distrustful, but would come around when news of the guild spread. At least in theory.


    Helene and Gabrielle were altogether different. Adam stared open -mouthed as they described tales of adventure and heroism. Fights against beasts and bandits. A heartbreaking capture and daring escape. Local lords swearing life oaths and throwing lavish balls. When the story came to a close Cooper stepped forward.


    ¡°Quite the story. Shockingly similar to The Adventures of the Moreau Company.¡±


    The two girls looked at each other and then burst out laughing. They were leaning against each other, doubled over and barely able to catch their breaths.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Gabrielle choked out. ¡°But wouldn¡¯t it have been so much better?¡±


    The whole sect joined in on the joke.


    ¡°Maybe if our Loremaster over there ever read any fiction, we wouldn¡¯t have gotten so far,¡± Helene said.


    Adam let out the expected grumbles at that. Internally he was planning a trip out to one of his favorite book stores to pick up a copy of the book Cooper had mentioned. Not his normal cup of tea but it really had been a good story. The kids handed their notes and letters off to Annette, and the sect broke apart into the usual evening groupings. Some were taking advantage of the free time to cultivate. A few had artwork or other projects out they could pretend to work on while chatting with others. Contentment bubbled up once more in Adam, this time he embraced it with a smile.

 Ch 66 - Entmoot

    The weeks since the kids returned from their trip had been a whirlwind, and Annette was going over her notes in exacting detail. Madam Sabrina had arrived in Verilia the previous day, marking the last of a dozen or so independent magic users or group representatives currently visiting the city. After hearing of the Indell Coven¡¯s intent to visit, Annette decided a large gathering was the best way to convince everyone, and show off what the sect had accomplished. She was penning invitations to a banquet at the sect hall, which Martin would deliver later. He could find them easily enough using the City Core and make the deliveries faster than anyone else. The last letter was set aside for the ink to dry for a few moments. Deeply saturated on cream-colored paper, with a touch of bronze dust infused throughout the ink. It had just the right amount of formality for honored guests, hoping for future friends. Annette took the time to appreciate the sect crest embossed on the top of the page. Real silver leaf added a shine with rich black ink sketching the phoenix constellation. The king himself would not find any cause to complain with an invitation like this. Martin walked in and gave a low whistle of appreciation.


    ¡°Stunning calligraphy Annie. Still not sure why we needed the fancy paper but it looks nice.¡±


    She took a deep breath before responding. ¡°We aren¡¯t doing ¡®Annie¡¯. And trust me, there is a whole language hidden in the ink and paper we use to communicate. If you think Madam Sabrina isn¡¯t taking note of what quality paper we send you¡¯re in for a rude awakening. Now, take these and deliver them, please.¡±


    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am¡±. Martin tucked everything into the infuriatingly useful tattoo and was out the door again. Before she could get back to work, Helene walked in, followed by Gabrielle.


    ¡°Welcome girls, I wasn¡¯t expecting to see you this morning.¡±


    ¡°Right, well, you see, Annette, Quartermaster...¡± Helene stumbled along before Gabrielle cut her off.


    ¡°We are sooo bored. Going out and meeting everyone was fun but now we  don¡¯t have anything to do. I mean, lessons are good and we¡¯ll obviously do the chores, but that still leaves like half the day. Are we getting more assignments any time soon? The points from the last one aren¡¯t enough for the treasures we want to aspect our mana.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve already decided on how you want to aspect?¡±


    Gabrielle responded confidently. ¡°Water for Helene, fire for me. Martin said those are pretty common for adventuring cultivators and we have a lot of flexibility to evolve them later.¡±


    Annette leaned back in her chair to think before responding. In truth, she hadn¡¯t put time into coming up with complex missions in weeks, being so focused on the impending summit they were hosting. She kept a pleasant smile while cursing herself internally; finding productive uses for the members was part of her job as a Quartermaster. This position was more responsibility than everything else she¡¯d ever done combined and she had no intention of failing at it.


    ¡°How about this: The papers have been publishing more stories about the rise in magical animals around the countryside. Laurel did something before she left to make sure the rats didn¡¯t go crazy and attack, but the influence stops a few kilometers out of the City. Farms out that way have been harassed. I read an article yesterday implying one of the towns a few days'' travel from here hadn¡¯t had anyone enter or leave in weeks.¡± She took out another piece of paper to begin drafting a different kind of letter. ¡°We need to keep the momentum of our reputation going, so take this and bring it to the fort. That far out, the army will be involved. Why don¡¯t you two offer yourselves as consultants for the investigation.¡±


    Helen looked apprehensive but Gabrielle quickly plucked the letter from Annette¡¯s hands and rolled it carefully, tying it with a length of black ribbon from Annette¡¯s desk. At least someone respected the importance of presentation. ¡°We¡¯ll do it.¡±


    ¡°After the summit.¡± Annette called at their already retreating backs.


    *******


    Martin leaned against the gate outside the Skycrest townhouse. He dropped his veil and flared his mana. A few minutes later a handsome woman with dark hair came outside.


    ¡°Madam Sabrina of the Indell Coven?¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    ¡°That¡¯s correct. And I presume I am addressing Martin of the Eternal Archive?¡±


    ¡°Quite right. I have this invitation to join discussions on the establishment of a new guild for magic users.¡± He produced the page with a flourish. A slight widening of the eyes was the only thing that betrayed any surprise from the other cultivator. Impressive. Without his veil, she could feel how strong he was and didn¡¯t flinch. This Indell Coven might turn out to be a worthy ally, if they could be charmed into joining the guild.


    Sabrina took the invitation and read it over. Martin noticed her tracing the silver leaf in the emblem, a fact he would die before admitting to Annette. ¡°Thank you. I accept.¡±


    ¡°See you there, come hungry!¡± He left with a wink and a wave. That went well enough. Now he just had to hunt down another half dozen stray cultivators in a city of over a million souls. Without starting any fights.


    The next few went easily enough. A string of wary cultivators accepted the invitations to be at the sect the following Sixthday. Martin stopped outside of the most recent in a series of mid-tier inns. Nice enough ,but far inferior to the uptown house Madam Sabrina was a guest in. He probed along his connection to the City Core, then out into the populace to find nearby cultivators. The sect members were ignored easily, having mana signatures recorded already and easily filtered out. That left three other cultivators at or beyond the initiate level in the city. He frowned. Annette definitely only gave him seven invites. Well, someone was going to have to suffer a verbal declaration instead. He oriented towards the next closest and continued.


    Leaving the middle-class portions of the city, Martin descended into the slums of the Flats, ending his walk at a dingy inn sat near the harbor. He could see a few gaps between the planks of the facade. The common room was dim, with a low-ceiling, half the windows already shuttered. A few men and women sat at tables, shoveling down some sort of stew without pausing long enough to register the taste. A quick scan with his spiritual senses told him his target was the young man in the back corner. In his mid to late twenties, by Martin¡¯s guess, with blond hair hanging low enough to obscure his eyes, and a posture that spoke of being hunted.


    ¡°Hi there friend. I¡¯m Martin, master cultivator of the Eternal Archive.¡± He accompanied this with an outstretched hand.


    The young man jerked his head up with an expression of utter terror. Something went on behind his eyes as he glanced down at Martin¡¯s now awkwardly extended hand and then back up at his face. After a bracing breath he tentatively reached out to shake.


    ¡°George. No affiliation.¡±


    ¡°Okay then. George. I don¡¯t have an invitation for a ¡®George¡¯. Sorry about that. Whichever of the kids that talked to you must have forgotten to write it down. That¡¯s fine. Show up at the sect on Sixthday. And if anyone asks, don''t mention you didn¡¯t get one, alright?¡±


    The younger man gave a thumbs up. Quiet, but he seemed decent enough otherwise.


    ¡°Great. See you then. And hey, have a drink on me, if you trust the ale in this place.¡± Martin tossed a coin out before hustling back into the fresh air outside. Surprising that any cultivator would be willing to stay in a place like that when he could sign on as a guard for a few traders and live comfortably. But he wouldn¡¯t judge. As long as no one asked him to stay in such a shithole it was fine. The next person he was after was in a better neighborhood anyway.


    *********


    George leaned forward and rested his forehead against the table. His hands were shaking. His heart was beating out of his chest. That man was undoubtedly the strongest mage he had ever seen. That he had ever been near. And how did he know George was in the city? He had been careful. No magic use at all once he got close, despite how easy it was here.


    Now he had a summons. There was no question, he would have to go. Anyone that strong could crush him without any effort. Running was no longer an option, and this was his goal anyway. He just hadn¡¯t expected someone to show up and tell him exactly when his last hope would either come true or crumble to ashes.


    ********


    ¡°Hey Annette, we had one extra we¡¯ll need food and everything for.¡± Martin¡¯s head peeked around the doorframe while the rest of his body stayed hidden behind the wall.


    ¡°Stars above, how did that happen? We gave explicit instructions to write everything down. Ugh, fine. I¡¯ll let Esther know.¡±


    ********


    The meeting hall they hadn¡¯t yet had reason to use was fully decked out for their first time hosting guests, except Devon, whom Martin assured her didn¡¯t count. Annette had already triple-checked every order, but she was spending the last few minutes before anyone arrived reviewing the details. The room was decorated perfectly. A few paintings and sculptures from fashionable artists adorned the walls. Not too many to look busy, but enough to communicate thoughtful taste. Windows uncovered to let in the morning light. The table was set with supplies for notetaking and discussion, while a sideboard held drinks and snacks. A group of comfortable couches and chairs surrounded a crackling fire on the other end of the room for breaks.


    Everything was in place. Not that she expected anything to be wrong. Esther was far too good at her job to have missed the little pieces. The woman had been Annette¡¯s right hand in the organizing, and had a good eye for arranging things in a way that looked natural. This last minute fussing was just Annette letting some of the nervous energy out. This was more serious than the open house. She had practice working with nobles and seeing how they handled the press. There was something to model off of there. But there was no guide for how to handle suspicious cultivators or begin a new guild.


    Elisette¡¯s advice had been invaluable. The older woman had taken a mentoring role after their first meeting. Unfortunately she had declined the invitation to attend the summit, and they would be on their own. Elisette believed it would hinder their position to have outsiders present. She was right, but Annette could use an experienced guide. Adam was knowledgeable of the formal process but not great at understanding how people work. Martin was charming but avoided the political part of the sect with astounding precision. And he was still sometimes taken off guard by modern customs. This would be Annette¡¯s time to lead.


    One last loop of the room and it was time. A quick stop  in her room ensured the formal outfit in sect colors was still pristine. She found Martin and Adam leaning over a memory tablet in the library. Once they resurfaced she herded them off to the meeting room. The four initiates that had gone out to recruit were tasked with escorting everyone and working as runners for the day. Helene and Gabrielle weren¡¯t thrilled with having to delay future missions, so she had put a respectable contribution point compensation for acting as aides for their summit. There was nothing left to do but wait for everyone to arrive.

 Ch 67 - Entmoot Cont.

    ¡°Welcome all. We appreciate you making the journey to meet with us in person and share your wisdom. My name is Annette Rada, the Quartermaster of the Eternal Archive. With me are Martin, our acting Sectmaster and combat master, and Adam de Ranier, our Loremaster. We have asked you all here to discuss the establishment of a new guild for magic users and organizations. I ask that you first listen to our proposal and then we can begin discussions.


    Annette privately believed a more disparate group of people had rarely been gathered in Meristan society. Madam Sabrina sat opposite the sect officers at the foot of the table. The elegant woman was the strongest visiting cultivator from the modern era. Annette could see the echoes of Theresa Skycrest, who had studied at the same school. In contrast, a man named Pavan sat halfway between them. It was hard to make out his expressions beneath the bushy hair and beard. But the man had been keeping a swath of the countryside safe from spirit beasts along with his brothers. A girl of about 17 was across from him, giving her name as Claire. Her parents were both cultivators in the southern lowlands and had sent her along to hear the proposition. They ran a shop selling basic mana infused items like healing ointments and extra durable cloth. James and Cooper had brought back some of their wares that Devon had declared ¡®trash but still better than anything else he¡¯d seen recently.¡¯ The enchanter had also joined today, complaining about having to rent a room at a fashionable inn since Martin refused to let him stay in the sect house. The rest were a motley assortment, only united in their ability to sense and interact with magic. Adam passed around packets of information to their visitors, signaling the beginning of Annette¡¯s prepared statements.


    ¡°It will not surprise anyone in this room that the presence of magic in the world has been growing stronger for a long time. The last few years in particular have seen a sharp increase in the number of magic users and the ease of practicing magic. This has led to a symmetric increase in dangerous beasts and useful resources.¡±


    The group watched without interrupting during her explanation. Pavan grunted and scowled when she mentioned beasts.


    ¡°This puts us in an awkward position. We have the expertise to deal with these new challenges, but no authority to do so. We have no way to push back against being exploited by the larger guilds or the government. There is no way to regulate magic users and the naturally occurring resources we need access to and there is no existing infrastructure for us to share knowledge and get stronger. Recently, our sect was taken to trial on spurious grounds, and we were forced to make concessions because of this.¡±


    ¡°We propose forming a new guild for magic users. With an established guild we can share techniques and make sure we are fairly compensated for our work.¡± Annette looked at the faces around the table. Some looked ready to join but there were more than a few concerning frowns as well.


    ¡°Existing guilds will resist your plan, how will you get around that?¡± Madam Sabrina opened the discussion. Despite the hostile tone Annette could have kissed the woman. That was the exact place she wanted to start. The hint of a smile on the older woman¡¯s lips told her it might have been intentional.


    ¡°A good question and an important one. Our sect currently has a business arrangement with members of the Merchant¡¯s Guild for exclusive distribution rights for products we create. We¡¯ve already begun with some basic glow stones. Additionally, the Scholar¡¯s Guild members are regular applicants to study the texts available in our library. If we leverage these relationships into support, I believe we can get past most resistance from that quarter.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s in it for us?¡± Pavan¡¯s voice was higher than Annette expected when the man finally spoke. ¡°Seems like this is good for your fancy schools, but it''s just another fee for me and my brothers to pay.¡±


    ¡°Compensation and benefit structures are yet to be decided. We propose a method for sharing techniques and first access to certain cultivation resources gathered and sold by guild members. If we act swiftly, we can ensure other guilds and the government turn to us first for projects requiring a magic user. When the hunter¡¯s guild needs assistance for a spirit beast or the mercenaries or merchants want guards with advanced senses.¡±


    Conversation continued from there. Annette answered more questions about what the benefits of joining such a guild would be or how much it would cost. Adam had ready answers when legal concerns were brought up, Martin only really entering the conversation when the discussion drifted towards beast culling. Devon even joined with an overview of how sect alliances had worked in the past, their proposal being similar enough. Over the course of the morning, Annette carefully nudged the discussion along the proper paths. It went from whether or not people would join to how they could set things up in the best possible way. A break was called for lunch and she was optimistic that the others would be willing to commit by the end of the day.


    **********


    George cursed himself as he showed up to the giant fucking mansion outside the city slums. He was late. Showing up later than he was told by a high-powered mage might have been the stupidest thing he¡¯d done since fleeing the magehunters. These weren¡¯t people who would take a lack of directions or a map as a good excuse. He was too late to bother with taking time to calm down. He sprinted up the steps and tried to knock without sounding frantic. He failed.


    A red-haired woman a few years younger than him opened the door. She wore a black outfit with a silver insignia embroidered on the shoulder. George felt something clumsily brush over his being while she looked him up and down.


    ¡°I¡¯m George, I was asked to come today by Martin.¡± His Meristan was still choppy but had improved leaps and bounds in the weeks since he arrived in Lanport.


    ¡°Helene. They¡¯ve already started. I¡¯ll show you in.¡±


    George decided discretion was the better part of valor and didn¡¯t ask who ¡°they¡± were or what they had started. The woman in front of him wasn¡¯t the talkative type, the silence only adding to his nerves. The entire building thrummed with magic. It was impossible to pay attention to anything else. He made the mistake of trickling magic up to his eyes to take in more details and was almost blinded from the intensity of it. He was led to a large meeting room with a dozen people already inside. The terrifying one, Martin, was there. Thankfully his power was hidden away. Everyone else was giving off the presence of a mage. Even the people standing on the side as servants were mages. George had the distinct feeling of walking into a lion¡¯s den. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°George! Come join, you¡¯re late!¡± At Martin¡¯s command he walked over to the empty place at the table, where a full lunch spread was laid out. His mouth watered at the aromas filling the air. The past months living mostly on stew of dubious quality and dried trail rations made the feast irresistible. He was digging in before he was fully conscious there was an entire conversation happening around him. He had no idea what they were talking about. A lot of what sounded like trade agreements and somehow also school. Most of it went over his head. George tried not to let that show. Nodding along as everyone discussed whatever it was.


    He couldn¡¯t hide forever.


    ¡°George, what do you think? Would you join with those conditions?¡± Martin asked him.


    George froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. The master mage¡¯s eyes pierced right through him. But he knew all too well what agreeing to something before understanding could lead to. Life as he knew it had been torn away once before.


    ¡°Umm, join what, Master Martin?¡±


    The noise around the table cut out. Everyone turned to stare directly at him.


    ¡°The guild. Did the kids not explain it to you?¡± Martin turned to look at the people standing along the wall but they all looked as confused as he did.


    ¡°Apologies. I was not aware of a guild. I came to Merista to ask for protection and a place within your group.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you and Martin go have a little chat then while everyone else keeps the momentum up on this project.¡± A prim looking woman with eyes like knives made the suggestion, and at the nods around the table George supposed he had little true choice in the matter. He stood and followed after Martin. Hopefully not to his death.


    *********


    ¡°Sorry about that confusion everyone, let¡¯s keep going.¡± Annette said.


    They finished lunch and spent the afternoon in further debates. It became clear that a couple of the visiting cultivators had no interest in participating. They stopped contributing positively and kept bringing up questions that had already been asked and answered. Tensions reached a boiling point a few hours later.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m sitting here listening to everyone fall for this horse shit. You want more power for your sect and are using us to get it. I¡¯m done.¡±


    The man stormed out. Followed by an older woman draped in silks. ¡°I¡¯m not going to share my family¡¯s secrets with people who will take and abuse them.¡±


    The two dissenters left and Annette cursed like a sailor inside. Externally she kept her face placid. Those two weren¡¯t overly important, representing smaller groups of one or two families.  But their leaving meant they were now in a time crunch. If word got out, other groups would organize against them. Or in the worst case scenario, an alternate guild vying for the same level of influence and carving out their own authority.


    ¡°Ignore them for now, there¡¯s not much we can do at the moment,¡± Madam Sabrina said. ¡°Onto the important things, who is going to be in charge of this new guild? I¡¯m sure running a sect of this size will take up enough time as it is and you won¡¯t want to do it.¡± The witch¡¯s voice turned saccharine at this last point.


    ¡°The lady makes a point.¡± Pavan¡¯s voice surprised Annette. He¡¯d been silent for most of the afternoon. ¡°Big schools like this one or Indell will be difficult to balance with the guild as a whole. Leaders should be chosen from among the independents. ¡°


    Annette and Sabrina both stared at the wild-looking man. That was more astute than Annette had given him credit for. A mistake she would not be repeating. The debate was sparked and they went back and forth for ages. Annette pointed out that the larger schools had people already trained in large-scale logistics. The independent visitors didn¡¯t want to sacrifice their own interests that easily. They settled on rotating appointments of five years for members in good standing with the requisite abilities. They spoke into the evening, took a break for another delicious meal, and agreed to come back the following day to nail down the rest of the policies. They would be using standard options for the most part, and needed to codify details before they created and signed the official charter.


    ********


    ¡°Part of this is my fault for assuming, so I won¡¯t be angry that you¡¯ve come to my sect under false pretenses. Doesn¡¯t mean I won¡¯t be angry for anything else. Start explaining.¡±


    Martin¡¯s face was no longer that of an affable man without a care in the world. Now George could see echoes of the magehunter captains, but so much worse. Sharp and uncompromising. He had the feeling he was seeing behind a mask that was usually set firmly in place. George started with a short bow, extra respect rarely hurt.


    ¡°My name really is George. I learned how to access magic at a young age and was taken by the Laskarian magehunters, a group which I was forced to join. I hunted other magic users and convinced them to join in turn. When I heard about your sect and the rumors around what you could do, I took a chance. I ran. I made my way here with the intention of begging for protection. I¡¯d be willing to work for your sect in exchange, or join this guild thing you were talking about.¡±


    Martin was staring. George could feel the eyes boring into the depths of his soul, and probably the stone wall behind him as well. The silence stretched and he began to fidget and glance around. When it felt interminable Martin spoke.


    ¡°I had a run in with these magehunters, so I don¡¯t blame you for leaving them. But I can¡¯t just let strangers into the sect that admit they were trained by an enemy. How can we make sure you won¡¯t be running off to share the information?¡±


    George felt himself deflate. This had been his last chance and if it wasn¡¯t an option he had nowhere else to go.


    ¡°Tell me this,¡± Martin continued, ¡°why leave now, or at all? You were with them long enough to become a relatively strong cultivator. For this day and age at least.¡±


    George hesitated. This wasn¡¯t going to paint him in the best light. But the face across from him said anything less than the full truth wouldn¡¯t be an option.


    ¡°I was found around 16. They took me from my village and everyone I knew. Sometimes it was fun. I mean, I learned magic. And I was helping the empire, keeping dangerous people away from folks like my family.¡± He glanced at Martin but the other man betrayed no sympathy, if he felt any at all. ¡°I started getting harder assignments, to find other people and bring them in or eliminate them if I couldn¡¯t. Things got more restrictive. The missions came with higher stakes and harsher punishments.


    ¡°The last few years magic got easier and we all became stronger. But the missions got worse. A lot more elimination than recruitment. They made it clear they were always watching. If we broke the rules, punishments weren¡¯t just harsh but cruel. No more contact with our families, even letters were restricted.


    ¡°The final straw was when I heard a rumor about a monster attacking my home village. It was half-destroyed and I only found out from a rumor when another group went to hunt the monster. I ran. They hunted me. I came here because there isn¡¯t anywhere else to go.¡±


    His breath shuddered through him and he realized he was crying. Great, he would die mortified.


    ¡°You¡¯ll swear an oath with the City Core not to betray the sect and we¡¯ll work out a provisional membership. No secrets and you can¡¯t stay in the sect house, but you can train and take missions for contribution points. And you tell us everything you know about what¡¯s going on in Laskar. In a few months we will re-evaluate a path to full membership.¡±


    George leaned back against the wall and slid down to the floor. The relief was so great he didn¡¯t trust his legs to work anymore. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it was better than he could have expected.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± The sincerity in his voice surprised even him. ¡°I swear ¨C¡±


    ¡°Not here.¡± Martin cut him off. ¡°The oath is a bit more involved than just saying the words, come with me.¡±

 Ch 68 - Locals Have the Best Recommendations

    The book on the country of Naxos ¨C which Adam insisted she bring on the trip ¨C  was extraordinary in how dull it was to read. But Laurel persevered. This was further east than she had ever traveled. She had no convenient past memories to pull from and forewarned is forearmed. Naxos was Merista¡¯s eastern neighbor, but the cultural differences were astounding. Where her adopted home had a range of mostly temperate climates and a needlessly complex political structure made up of nobles and powerful guilds, Naxos was the opposite. That the languages were mutually intelligible was a quirk of migration and luck. Which the author had spent about seventy-five frivolous pages explaining.


    Naxos was dominated by desert, interspersed with large oases, fading into steppes in the northeast. The large mountain ranges separating it from the west caused unique social structures to form. Tribes developed around the water sources in the desert, and were still fiercely independent, even though they now had an acknowledged ruling council. Instead of the many factions holding the country back, they had caused a technological revolution. Naxos rivaled the Laskarian empire for advancements in steam engines and new transportation methods. Other scientific breakthroughs had been fueled by engineering needs forced by the climate. The Meristan Scholar¡¯s Guild counted several expatriates from Naxos as key members;  friendly and not so friendly academic rivalries were common between the nations. Adam had exhorted her to pick up any texts she could find, or recruit someone from a major university if at all possible.


    She stored the book after suffering through another chapter. Adam had meant well but he had far more tolerance for bad narration and stilted prose than she did. Or perhaps just more practice with non-fiction. Annette had sent some notes along as well, but her expertise lay in Meristan high society rather than foreign affairs. Her advice mostly boiled down to ¡®please don¡¯t start an incident¡¯.


    They were flying through known shipping lanes and had been for days. Merista and Naxos were strong enough allies that subterfuge or sticking to less inhabited areas was a waste of time. Of course, with the population concentrated around the relatively small arable regions and water sources, hiding would have been impossible anyway. Occasionally they spotted an overland caravan below, plodding along on odd animals or with some sort of slug shaped vehicle that was able to move over sand. They had passed a few airships in the distance, which she was still itching to explore more in depth. Laurel was still fascinated with the different ways mortals had figured out how to fly. Maybe in a few years she could commission one. Larger, slow-moving ships were the norm here. Kat, the most well traveled of them all, told them each ship was owned and operated by one large extended family of merchants, flying cargo around without suffering the heat of the sand.


    A few more natural treasures had been easy to pick up along their route. Mostly sand, air, or heat aspected, they would be useful for climate control or defense. A small but verdant oasis they spent a night in had a life-attuned treasure at its core. As useful as such a thing would be, it wasn¡¯t mature enough to harvest. If Laurel had taken it, the whole area would wither away. Instead they marked it on the map as a place to return to and continued on.


    Their last stop before returning to Merista was the capital of Naxos at Araxis. Kat and Maria were instructed to check in and deliver certain news and military communications to their counterparts. Laurel was more interested in the mana infrastructure. The population at Araxis would be far smaller than Verilia, or even Lanport or Jaranda. But it was still large enough to need dedicated cultivators. The wild contrasts in the environment  and densely packed population were more likely to lead to something unusual and she was dying to explore. If she could tease out some local cultivation secrets, that would be even better. Her enthusiasm was unfortunately tempered by caution. If the plot in Laskar was widespread enough, they could be walking into an enemy stronghold. Laurel was confident against anyone at her level, but if a group of masters had formed then things would be less certain.


    The more she spent thinking on it the last few months, the faster she wanted to return to the sect and make sure they had defenses in place. She had pushed them to travel farther each day and had taken a slightly more active role in harvesting in the last weeks. Martin and the others could handle threats but she wanted to be there as well. It was a strange feeling to have. In the past, when she and her friends had missions they would take as long as they needed, and they rarely felt the need to hurry back. But there were no longer dozens of masters and grandmasters protecting the sect to rely on. Laurel was in charge now, and she needed to see with her own eyes that everything was fine. She had forged her cultivation around the freedom to see the world as she chose. For decades being too tied down was anathema to her own growth. She had changed, expanded. She would still see all this world had to offer and those worlds beyond, but she was in no rush. Freedom would be found in security. Her sect would be safe and prospering before she moved on. And she would always have a home to return to.


    As they approached Araxis, Laurel had to once more re-evaluate her estimation of mortals. The miles around the city were covered in farmland. It was kept fertile by the underground river that ran through the area and surfaced to make the oases flourish. That was expected. Buildings taller than any she had seen crafted without mana were not. Sun glinting off bronze tiled roofs and glass windows forced their pilots to drop lower if they wanted to avoid being blinded. They were still high enough to see the rest of the city, buildings interwoven with lush plant life. With a lack of area to spread out, the people of Naxos had built vertically.


    A sweep of Laurel¡¯s spiritual sense revealed they had also tunneled through the rock beneath the oasis. She could feel chambers of growth around the underground waterways that must act as a secondary source of food for the city. She registered all that but was more curious about the City Core. It was present, and the ambient mana was smooth enough that it felt partially cultivated. But the core itself was odd. It felt denser, and blurry to her senses. She also couldn¡¯t feel an anchor point anywhere. Something to investigate. There were a few cultivators present in the city, at least that she could feel from her cursory inspection. Only one that would be any kind of threat to her party.


    The squadron reached a designated landing area outside of the main city. A large installation that was so ugly it could only be a military base towered above them as they disembarked. Laurel quickly let everyone know what she had found out before the locals arrived. Their uniforms were light-colored but covered their entire bodies, protecting against the insidious damage from the sun reflecting off the sand. She stood back with her students, letting the officers handle the appropriate pleasantries. Instead her spiritual sense stayed locked on the expert-level presence she had found. The stranger had approached the air field but not any closer. Laurel wasn¡¯t sure exactly why but after making a few nods and agreeable sounds she was able to peel away to investigate, holding Leander and Rebecca by the shoulders as she steered them away. She hesitated for a moment, flashing back to her oath not to force them into foolish risks as she had with Borin, but she had to trust her instincts. The presence hadn¡¯t attacked thus far, and had dropped its veil long enough for Laurel to get a better look at their cultivation. That was done as a courtesy so she was reasonably confident she wasn¡¯t leading the children towards a fight. And the mana here was unusual enough that she wanted to keep an eye on them both until things were more settled.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Their route took them away from the open area set aside for military aircraft. Rebecca and Leander both sighed in relief as they entered the shade of the trees. The relatively low humidity made the temperature in the shade just about bearable for the kids. Even their lightest outfits were still made for the more temperate northern Meristan climate. The well-maintained path led them on a winding journey, keeping to the shaded areas rather than a straight line. Flint, who had been hiding under Rebecca¡¯s shirt, decided it was time to explore. He scampered up into the trees and Laurel could feel him keeping pace up above, and frightening the occasional bird. Their path ended at a small grotto. A few well-worn benches around a small pool of water marked it as a well-loved spot for the locals. Today it was mostly empty.


    One man sat on the farthest bench, his profile exposed to them as they approached. He made no acknowledgement, though Laurel knew this was the most powerful cultivator in the city. He was dressed in the local fashion, light clothes covering most of his body. Even this close, Laurel couldn¡¯t quite get a full read on his core without forcing her way in with her stronger cultivation. She was reluctantly impressed. Rebecca and Leander had picked up on the odd situation and stayed quiet as Laurel directed them towards the other benches. As she went to speak, she noticed faint markings at the corners of his eyes and she paused again. The silence stretched into awkwardness as she stared, realizing what they indicated. Laurel kept staring anyway. Dragons, merpeople, and a few other groups required zones of high mana density to be born and grow up. They could survive outside them as adults but they were weakened. It had been an assumption on her part that those societies had collapsed entirely, being unable to survive in the intervening centuries.


    She was startled out of her reverie when Flint dropped onto her back.


    ¡°Thank you for welcoming me personally into your home. I am Laurel Stormblade, sectmaster of the Eternal Archive.¡± She spoke in Alrasian. Dragons had their own language that she had never learned, as fiercely guarded as it was.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t speak Alrasian, but Meristan is fine. Welcome to Araxis. My name is Oro.¡±


    Laurel waited a moment to see if any more information would be forthcoming. The dragon sat there. As the shock wore off Laurel noticed what she missed at first. The wringing hands and slight rocking back and forth. Oro had no idea what to do.


    ¡°Oro, I apologize for overstepping, but how are you here? Did other dragons survive? What have you done to the City Core?¡±


    Before the man could answer, Rebecca jumped off the bench. ¡°Dragons?¡± she squeaked. ¡°Did you say dragons?¡±


    ¡°Ahem. Yes, well. I am a dragon and a member of the Tarinoth clan. Well-spotted, Sectmaster.¡±


    Flint picked up on Rebecca¡¯s excitement and jumped from Laurel¡¯s shoulder to chitter at the girl. Leander was also standing now, leaning in to peer closer at Oro. Perhaps sensing the obvious questions would need to be answered before anything else could get done, the dragon did his best to explain.


    ¡°Dragons can take a humanoid form from a young age, though some visual clues remain.¡± He gestured at the small scales near his eyes.


    ¡°Dragons, like flying lizard dragons?¡± The children were stuck on that fact but Laurel had other things on her mind.


    ¡°Now what would Annette say about asking people about their parentage?¡± The specter of the etiquette lessons both children had been subjected to was enough to have them stammering out apologies. Leander even took his speaking stone out to get the point across. Flint wasn¡¯t sapient yet, but he had a crude enough awareness to copy Rebecca¡¯s apologetic half-bow.


    ¡°Yes, perhaps I can transform for you at some point. To Madam Stormblade¡¯s questions, I don¡¯t know. I believe the elders of my clan fled the world many years ago. My egg was left in a cavern with some memory tablets I eventually figured out how to use. But the information was limited. I hatched two decades ago and have been in Naxos since. My people¡¯s natural ability with mana has undoubtedly saved my life, but beyond those tablets, I do not know what became of my people.¡± Oro bowed his head at that.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± There was really nothing else to say. His people had been destroyed much like her own. That there were any dragons saved at all was a miracle, the other members of Oro¡¯s clan were either far out in the cosmos or bones worn down to dust. The rage she had kept in check for months boiled back to the surface. All this so some cowards could get power they were too weak to claim in the light.


    ¡°I felt your scan of the city and came to meet you, and ask for your assistance. Something is wrong with the mana. It has been increasing for years. By the end I could barely use external magic within the city without losing control. Then a year or so ago it got easier. The mana kept increasing but I could again use it without fear. There was something different though. I thought maybe another cultivator but haven¡¯t found any that had the skill it would take.¡±


    That was consistent with a newly cultivated Core, but Oro should have been able to find anyone powerful enough to deal with a City Core for a place as large as Araxis. Dragons were instinctive magic users, unlike humans, and strong ones at that. There was no one else nearby that she could feel that would have the abilities to interact with the Core. Of course they could be away, much like herself. But that didn¡¯t seem quite right either.


    ¡°Let me meditate a few moments and see if I can find anything. You two be polite.¡± She shot the last at her students as she dropped into a cultivation pose and let her consciousness float out into the surroundings. It was as Oro claimed. The ambient mana was smooth. The local cultivators were bright lights in the flows. She even felt Trip doing something to his plane with mana. Something she was going to let Kat and Maria discover on their own.


    She let herself go further out, trying to find the nexus for the core. Tracing to where the mana flows intersected she dropped deeper. And was promptly slapped back out. Laurel jerked back into her own body abruptly enough to make her flinch. The motion revealed a violent headache for her troubles.


    She groaned. Her education had been top notch, but she would have happily gone forever without having to use this particular lesson. A sprig of mint appeared in front of her. She followed the arm back to see a worried looking Leander holding it out. Her students were at least shaping up quite nicely. She thanked him and chewed some of the leaves. In truth her spirit wasn¡¯t strained so they did little, but the appreciation was still there for the gesture.


    ¡°Good news and bad news.¡± She climbed up onto one of the benches. Sitting under everyone didn¡¯t quite fit her vision of a sectmaster. ¡°I know what we¡¯re dealing with.¡±


    ¡°Excellent. What is the good news?¡± Oro, she reminded herself, was quite young, for all he was a member of an ancient magical race.


    ¡°That is the good news. The bad news is that we have an exceedingly rare and annoying phenomenon on our hands that we¡¯ll need to deal with before it gets worse. Your city¡¯s Core is forming a dungeon.¡±

 Ch 69 - Whos Our Acting Dungeon Master?

    Laurel saw that the children gathered around her had no idea of what she was talking about. Even Flint had his head tilted as though confused, copying Rebecca. She tried again.


    ¡°A labyrinth?¡±


    Still no glimmer of recognition.


    ¡°Huh, I¡¯m surprised that¡¯s not a story that was passed down, it¡¯s a good one. Ambient mana of a region scales with either sapient life or influxes of cosmic mana. There are some exceptions but that is, broadly speaking, true. When enough people live in the same place for long enough, a Core is formed. More people means more mana, which strengthens the Core, which can in turn strengthen the people who protect it.


    ¡°If you do nothing, the ambient mana becomes harder to cultivate. The flows are too fast and too strong to interact with. You can have random manifestations of spirit beasts within the city, or other phenomena. Then it will be harder to fix later and require stronger cultivators. At least most of the time.¡±


    Laurel paused for a moment, reveling in the curiosity on everyone¡¯s face. Her mana theory lectures at the sect rarely got this kind of reaction. When Flint made his odd mooing noise again she moved on.


    ¡°On rare occasion, something else happens to the Core. No one can really say why or how, but a Core can invert into something else. They aren¡¯t alive in the way we think of that term, but a sort of rudimentary intelligence kicks in to defend the Core. It will form an anchor, underground usually, and fill the area around it with traps or spirit beasts. The longer it goes on the more elaborate the dungeon.


    ¡°Um, Madam Stormblade, you sound excited, is this a good thing?¡± Oro was meeker than the other dragons she¡¯d met, maybe because he grew up alone in human society.


    ¡°Ah, well, it''s fascinating isn¡¯t it? I grew up on stories about these things. The quality of the beast cores you find in them are supposed to be better than anywhere else. And sometimes there¡¯s other treasure as well, though that¡¯s less clear. And of course the situation itself is endlessly interesting. Why does it happen so rarely, how does the core go about acting on its own?¡±


    Rebecca cleared her throat and Laurel cut off her rambling.


    ¡°Right. Anyway we can¡¯t leave it as it is. It will get more and more dangerous until monsters flood the city. It will be fantastic for training though. How handy are you in a fight, Oro?¡±


    The dragon¡¯s hands were wringing together and Laurel noticed slightly pointed nails. ¡°I can¡¯t say I have much experience, Sectmaster. I can use my abilities but I¡¯ve only had to scare off some minor beasts the last few years.¡±


    Flint decided it was time to make a new friend. He hopped across to Oro¡¯s shoulder and peered at his face from about a fingers-width away. Rebecca went over to try and coax him off but it did little and he scampered to the other shoulder.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. Who are you in contact with in the city, we can have them send a few people as well.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean in contact with?¡±


    Laurel paused and really assessed the young dragon before her. If she took away everything she knew about dragon society, who was this boy? He continuously addressed her by her title, he was nervous to the point of obsequiousness, and as confused as Rebecca or Leander. Points for being nice to Flint but it was clear he was in over his head.


    ¡°Oro, who is in charge of cultivator affairs in the city?¡±


    ¡°The council maybe, or the military? I¡¯m sorry but I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. Kat and Maria should have finished their conversation by now, let''s talk to them. We¡¯re going to need to act quickly and I¡¯d rather not the leaders of this place think they¡¯re under attack when we do.¡±


    She turned to walk away. Leander and Rebecca trotting along behind. ¡°You too Oro¡± she called over her shoulder.


    They walked back through the grove but most of Laurel¡¯s attention was underground. This time instead of rushing headlong towards the Core, she skirted around edges of its domain. Finding the breadth of the area and trying to gauge how far the situation had progressed. The stories usually said the cultivators ¡®entered¡¯ the dungeon as though there would be a door with a sign. Maybe there was one, but she didn¡¯t know where it was or how to find it. This was a rare enough event Laurel wasn¡¯t confident it had ever happened before in the history of Decorra. That meant she was going to be leading an expedition mostly based on old stories and half remembered rumors that they told as children to scare each other before bed.


    The soldiers were waiting around the planes. Tarps had been pinned down over the vehicles and everyone had shouldered their pack. Laurel noticed they¡¯d set Rebecca and Leander¡¯s things aside and lightly pushed the two towards that pile. Oro she led directly up to everyone.


    ¡°A bit of an unexpected twist to this part of the journey. This is Oro, he¡¯s a local cultivator and a dragon. The City Core is slowly building a dangerous maze filled with monsters and traps, which we need to deal with. How close of an ally is this country again?¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The reactions to that bombshell were varied but a bit more controlled than the kids. The soldiers were confused, but held each other back from blurting anything out. Laurel spied Reina literally hauling Reynard back when he went to hurry forward. Maria smiled and slowly shook her head. Trip was still fiddling with the planes and had missed the whole conversation. Luckily it was the unflappable Kat who broke the silence.


    ¡°We¡¯ll need to loop the city leaders in on that, I¡¯ll go talk to our contact to set something up.¡± She ambled off without further comment. One day Laurel might actually shock the woman but it wasn¡¯t going to be any time soon.


    *********


    Rebecca navigated through the winding streets with Leander and Flint. Their instructions were to ¡°walk around and feel for anything weird.¡± It wasn¡¯t clear what that actually meant but Laurel was also doing the majority of the search herself from their room in the guest spire. After meeting the dragon ¨C a dragon! ¨C things had moved quickly. Major Kat had called over some of the locals and the whole group was hustled in to meet with the Council. It was a very serious group of old people that listened to Laurel explain, thanked them, then ordered the military to handle it. That kicked off hours of discussion while Laurel tried to convince them to let her help. Then they called in even more serious old people that knew some magic to have the discussion all over again. The two of them had tried to sneak out, but Laurel had grabbed them, whispered that if she was suffering through it so would they, and forced them to pay attention.


    The two students ducked into a marketplace to cool off for a while. The large buildings  were spread throughout the city, engineered to pipe some of the cooler air near the underground river up into the stall area to combat the scorching heat. They kept to the edges, both instinctively avoiding taking up too much space. It was a mass of indoor shops, interspersed with smaller stalls and carts. A few pickpockets got close, but they were easily dodged or smacked away when questing hands got too close. People pointed at Flint where he was sitting on her shoulders occasionally, but most didn¡¯t seem to care at all.


    A tug on her wrist caused her to look around where Leander was pointing. At that same moment squawk came out of the vibrantly colored bird perched above the stall. Inside she could make out cages with a few more animals. Exotic pets were just one of the infinite things being sold.


    Leander led her over to a staircase at the far end of the building. It went up to three more levels of shops, but instead of exploring he went further down into a basement level. The air cooled to something bearable as they made their way underground.


    Shadows dominated the basement. Windows and cleverly placed mirrors had the upper levels bright and cheerful, even while being indoors. This level had none of that. Dim lanterns lined the walkways, some with colored glass that gave an eerie feeling to the area. Even so, it was just as well kept as the upper level, with no refuse or grime that she could see. People bustled back and forth or called out to each other between stalls with all the enthusiasm of the upper levels. Leander was still leading and they turned into a less crowded side hall. Fewer lanterns lit the way and Rebecca struggled to see where they were going. Another few turns and she was holding her hand against a wall to avoid walking into anything. Leander pulled his homing stone out from under his shirt. The dull glow was enough to navigate by in a pinch. She followed suit and a bit more of the tunnel was revealed.


    Away from the crowds, she could hear a dull roar, getting louder the further they went. They came to the end of the passage, which was taken up by a storage room. A rarely-used one if the amount of dust was to be believed. They slipped inside and closed the door behind them.


    A few crates were leaning in piles around the room, but they hadn¡¯t been moved in years, by Rebecca''s guess. The rest was just a nondescript room. A few shelves. A broken table. Nothing interesting.


    ¡°Why are we here?¡± She turned to look at Leander. It was hard to make out his facial expressions in the harsh shadows thrown by the glowing rune. He gestured a bit but frustration or impatience had him pulling out his sound stone when she didn¡¯t understand.


    ¡°Felt something weird, like Laurel said. It leads here.¡±


    Rebecca, abashed, let her own spiritual senses spread out. Laurel made them both practice as part of their daily training, but keeping them active was overwhelming when they got near other people. It was more comfortable when they were in between cities or towns, alone with the open sky and nature. Leander didn¡¯t seem to have the same problem. She was convinced it might have to do with the Heart of the Wild she had absorbed, but she was delaying asking Laurel about it. The sect lived and worked in a city after all. She gritted her teeth and spread her own senses out. The same discomfort was there but she forced it down and kept going. Breathe in, breathe out, she tried for the cultivation rhythms they had been taught. A few minutes later, her heartbeat had slowed down and she felt the same ripple that Leander must have been following.


    The teens wandered the room listening to their spiritual senses. Eventually, they converged in the center of the far wall. Rebecca stared at the bare stone in consternation. There was definitely something behind there but no door was in sight. Leander started tapping at varying points along the wall.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s only a thing in stories.¡±


    The boy shrugged and made a gesture Rebecca interpreted as ¡°any other ideas are welcome¡±. Not being able to come up with any, she also walked up to the wall and began tapping, the stories had to be based on something. A moment later she tapped a panel and the sound changed. Instead of a dull thump of skin on stone, she heard the clang of struck metal. Leander whipped around and joined her. Both of them started frantically knocking on the wall until they had mapped out the shape of a narrow door. They scraped their fingertips raw trying to find a seam or latch. Rebecca grabbed a shard of wood from the broken furniture and even tried scraping to reveal the metal, but nothing worked.


    After a few more minutes of fruitless struggle, Leander grabbed her arm and pulled her back from the wall. He stood a step away and stared at the rock in silence. She was about to ask what his plan was when he dropped into a fighting stance. Rebecca¡¯s spiritual senses were still extended, and she could feel him cycling mana. It concentrated in his hand as he thrust towards the wall. Rebecca watched as the mana hit the stone and seeped in, like water into soil. Nothing happened. Leander¡¯s shoulders slumped as he straightened his knees.


    ¡°It was a good idea,¡± Rebecca offered.


    The boy slumped. Out of ideas, they got ready to leave when they felt mana spiking behind them. Turning back to the hidden doorway, they saw a golden glow trace its outline. Before their eyes, the rock melted back to reveal a matte black metal. A design was inscribed  in gold but Rebecca didn¡¯t recognize it. She glanced over at Leander who looked back and made a few hand gestures.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, well done. This definitely qualifies as something weird.¡±


    He faced the door again, preening as the mana pulsed. Silently, the door swung outwards. Beyond was pitch black, the sound of rushing water in the distance. A flame appeared in the darkness, far enough that none of its light reached their storeroom. When Leander walked towards the door, Rebecca yanked him back.


    ¡°Absolutely not.¡±


    The two of them stared back and forth. Rebecca had grown used to the silences however and refused to break.


    ¡°That is asking for trouble.¡±


    Instead of mounting a counterargument, Leander¡¯s head snapped to the side. He peered into the darkness as though it held the secrets to life. Rebecca went back and forth between the darkness and Leander, ready to grab him again if he tried to run for it. His eyes widened as Rebecca felt something moving towards them. A moment later a skittering sound like claws on stone echoed out. They both grabbed for the door, Rebecca chanting ¡°close it, close it, close it.¡± Both of them together could barely budge the slab of metal. It had swung open easily enough but didn¡¯t want to close. Adrenaline and cultivation were enough in the end, and they heaved the door shut, just in time for a loud clang to echo from the other side.


    They were both panting when they stepped back. ¡°Maybe we pile this stuff in front of it?¡±


    Leander agreed and they started dragging the crates and broken wood over to the door. They had a respectable pile going when the rock melted back into place, covering the door as though it had never been there. It wasn¡¯t enough to stop them and they kept going until the entire thing was blocked off.


    ¡°We found it. What are the chances you think Laurel lets us wait out here while she goes in?¡±


    Leander chuffed as they slipped back into the populated hallways and up into the city to report back.

 Ch 70 - Dungeon Delving

    Laurel gazed at the blank wall. The kids were right that she could tell something was behind it but even with her formidable senses and cycling mana to her eyes, she couldn¡¯t see any visible indication of the doorway. Laurel was forced to conclude there was nothing there until mana was infused. That was more sophisticated than she expected from an inverted City Core. Though, since she was mostly going off of rumors and children¡¯s stories, maybe she should stop having expectations all together. Behind her, the rest of the expedition waited on edge. Leander and Rebecca were clumped together on one side. Flint was on Leander¡¯s shoulders, grooming the boy¡¯s hair.


    Despite what those two thought of her teaching style, she was apprehensive about forcing them to come along. If they wouldn¡¯t be with her the entire time, she wouldn¡¯t have done so. Struggle was good for growth. She repeated that to herself every time her instincts said to keep them back and handle things herself. Reina and Reynard were with them as well. Trip had bowed out, and Laurel had accepted without  protest. The man was already walking his path, and that was enchanting and piloting his plane, not exploration or close combat. Oro stood with another two local cultivators. The ruling council was aware of the magic users, with different clans leveraging magic in their superior skyships. But this was the first time they would be sent into danger or to interact with a Core. They were both adepts and Laurel didn¡¯t see anything to worry about when she scanned them. Maria had lobbied to come despite the lack of magic, but they weren¡¯t sure if non-cultivators would even be able to enter, let alone survive whatever hazards were in place.  She spun back around to survey the group.


    ¡°Okay one last time. What do we need to keep in mind?¡±


    Rebecca answered. ¡°Expect traps. Expect monsters. Stay together. Slow and steady.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    Leander went next, pointing to his eyes, then ears, then the whole room.


    ¡°Exactly, senses alert at all times.¡±


    She swung to the rest of the group. Reynard jumped, not expecting to be questioned, but months of learning from Laurel kicked in and he answered as well. ¡°Use the gear to test before touching anything.¡±


    Reina was quicker on the uptake and didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Keep a map of where we¡¯re going.¡±


    Laurel looked at Oro next. The young dragon was confused but went along. ¡°Umm, be ready to fight?¡±


    ¡°Kind of a repeat but I¡¯ll allow it.¡±


    The other two locals looked at Laurel like she was crazy. But the rest of the group''s expectant expressions goaded them into participating.


    ¡°Do not do anything to destabilize the tunnels,¡± the first one said.


    ¡°Keep out of any rivers, the currents are treacherous¡± the second one added.


    She had forgotten their names, but those were some good ideas.


    ¡°Excellent. And take notes during your breaks. We¡¯ll compile them for the sect archives later.¡±


    Laurel turned back to the wall and let some mana leak into it. Face hidden from the rest of the group, she let the smile she¡¯d hidden stretch across her face. This was an adventure right out of her childhood dreams. She watched in fascination as the door melted into existence, looking for all the world as if it had always been there. It swung open as the kids described, a torch flickering in the black. The map orb was tossed into the air and emitted its normal mana pulse, only for the wave of energy to stop dead at the door.


    ¡°That was a long shot,¡± she muttered.


    A sword appeared in Laurel¡¯s right hand as she stepped confidently into the dark.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    *********


    Leander watched Laurel disappear into the dark. She should have been right there but they couldn¡¯t see anything. Or hear anything. Or feel anything with their spiritual senses. The soldiers went in next, quickly followed by Oro and the Araxian cultivators.


    It was their turn. He took a gulp and grabbed Rebecca¡¯s sleeve as he walked through. He emerged still hanging onto her sleeve, in a bare stone room. He could feel his heartbeat thudding in his ears as he spun a slow circle, the wall behind them was smooth, no sign of the doorway.


    They were alone. No Laurel, no soldiers or dragons, just the two of them and Flint. Rebecca was gripping him back, just as hard.


    ¡°What do we do?¡± Her voice echoed in the silent chamber, the rushing noise of moving water had cut off when they stepped through the door.


    The single glow stone in the room sent out a steady blue light, enough for Leander to see his own terror reflected in her eyes. Flint was still on his shoulders and did his mooing to let them know he was nervous too. Leander desperately pushed down the panic. He went over the list Laurel made them memorize. Expect traps, expect monsters. Had the others gotten caught by monsters? No nonononono. He cut that off and forced himself to continue. Senses out. His spiritual sense spread out from his body in a circle. It was both easier and harder than usual. He could feel the whole room without any effort, further than ever, but nothing beyond it. Laurel said lead and some other stuff could block spiritual senses. Maybe the walls were made of lead. Or maybe that was part of the trap.


    He took a step back and reviewed the room again. One glowstone in the ceiling, casting enough light to see by, but the corners were still dark. There were some markings on the walls he didn¡¯t recognize, and another doorway. This one wasn¡¯t pitch black. They could see a hall beyond, with more glow stones at even intervals. Just in case, he walked towards the walls and began thumping them again. Rebecca ¨C who he was still holding onto and who was still holding onto him ¨C joined in. They worked their way around all three other walls without finding any other hidden doors.


    Both of them stood there. They glanced at each other then went back to looking through the door.


    ¡°Laurel will find us, right?¡± Rebecca asked. Her voice was smaller than usual. More like when she had first shown up to the sect and flinched at every loud noise. Leander didn¡¯t know what to do. Laurel would find them if she could, unless she was trapped the same way they were. A faint skittering came down the hall. He gestured to the door and Rebecca bit her lip.


    ¡°Maybe, but if we wait here we can fight it off as they come through the door.¡±


    Leander pointed to the different walls. They might be able to fight it off but for how long. And they were stuck here with nowhere to run.


    ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll move forward.¡±


    They both prepared themselves to set out. Laurel had insisted everyone be carrying some adventuring gear instead of relying on her tattoo. It was lucky, even if he¡¯d complained at the time. Leander took a collection of sticks out of his pack, all of them tied together with a stretch string. He popped each piece into place the way Major Kat had shown them, and ended up with a narrow stick about two and a half meters long that he could tap on the ground. He made sure his daggers were belted in place and put the pack back on. Rebecca had armed herself, and was holding her staff in both hands. She had even somehow gotten Flint to wear the leather vest she had insisted on spending the last few weeks making as an extra layer of protection for their new friend. Slowly, they eased into the unknown. Leander tapped the ground, walls, and waved the stick through the air before taking a step, Rebecca close behind.


    ********


    Reina looked around the room they had ended up in. Reynard was there but Laurel was nowhere to be seen. They waited a few minutes but no one else appeared.


    ¡°That didn¡¯t work at all,¡± Reynard said into the quiet.


    ¡°No it didn¡¯t. Do we carry on the mission or wait here to regroup?¡±


    ¡°I mean, Laurel will figure it out and gather everyone up right? Maybe we should wait for her and proceed together.¡±


    It was a reasonable argument but Reina wasn¡¯t sure it would work. She let her spiritual senses spread out but there was no feedback beyond the edge of the room. Using the senses was still unnerving. Even with months of practice, being able to feel what was happening behind her or through a wall put her off balance.


    ¡°If the Core was powerful enough to split us up, do you think Laurel will find us quickly? I think we need to push towards the center and the Core.¡±


    ********


    Oro looked at the others. They stared back. All of them were there because they had been told it was important, and the Council had asked (told) them to participate. But no one really had an idea of what was going on.


    ¡°Did the witch betray us?¡± It was a valid question from Indrix.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Oro replied. ¡°We aren¡¯t in the same place as the door, something moved us as we went through.¡±


    ¡°So what now?¡±


    ¡°We keep going and follow what the witch planned. And we get answers when we find the others.¡± Calix was a surly man but had a good head on his shoulders.


    ¡°Okay, remember the traps¡± Oro said as he stepped up to the only opening in the walls. He did what he¡¯d rarely have reason to anywhere but the deep desert, and called his inner flame to the surface.


    *******


    ¡°Fuck!¡± Laurel shouted into the empty room. The teleport had taken hold of her the moment her first foot passed through the door, and she hadn¡¯t been able to stop it. The rest of her body had been ripped through space and deposited in this empty room. That was more elaborate magic than she understood these places to be capable of.


    This was a disaster. Oro and the Naxians were experienced, if not particularly powerful cultivators. Reina and Reynard were trained soldiers, which should count for something. Rebecca and Leander were children. They had progressed wonderfully, but because Laurel was a fucking idiot, they were now trapped in a dangerous, unexplored pit riddled with spacial mana. If she thought she had been doing a passable job as Sectmaster that belief was shattered. She stalked into the hall, gusts of wind probing for any traps. Speed was of the essence. Getting to the Core itself would be the best way to find the others

 Ch 71 - Change of Plans

    Rebecca was terrified, but she would keep it together for Leander and Flint. She was the oldest, it was her job to be a good role model. They made it through the first hall without anything happening. Instead of calming her down, that just added to the sense of dread. It was like something was watching them, waiting for the moment they relaxed in order to pounce. The chittering had come and gone. Sometimes it sounded closer, sometimes further away. The hallway was curved, so they couldn¡¯t see very far ahead. Everything in this place only added to her anxiety. Leander was diligently tapping everywhere, keeping their pace glacial. She didn¡¯t understand how he was so unaffected. Every time something insane happened, he just dealt with it, then would say later how it was making him a better cultivator.


    The end of the tunnel came as a surprise. The curve they followed abruptly cut off, opening into a larger cavern. It looked more natural than what they¡¯d seen so far. Instead of precisely carved tunnels and smooth walls, the cavern was rough and uneven. A few parts of the ceiling poked down like the rock was dripping onto the floor. They could have been anywhere except for the hints of magic. Glow stones were emitting the same blue light from above and around the edges. A soft trickling led them to a narrow stream with moss-covered banks, tucked to the side. There were a few glow stones in the water, enough to illuminate a school of darting fish. It was beautiful and idyllic and Rebecca trusted it even less than the creepy hallway.


    ¡°Keep focused, let''s look for any exits,¡± she said to Leander.


    He got into their formation and they circled the entire room before getting back to where they started. There were three ways out so far. Two empty doorways, leading to more curved halls to the left and right from where they entered. There was no opening on the far wall, but there was another hidden door. This time they didn¡¯t try to open it. Returning to their starting point, Leander pulled out his daggers to stand guard while Rebecca sketched a map of what they had seen so far in the tiny notebook she had packed. Last night, when Laurel was preparing them, she had mentioned over and over that only an idiot goes exploring without recording a map. Rebecca did not want to be on Laurel¡¯s list of idiots.


    As she was finishing up, a grinding sound started on the other side of the chamber. Rebecca scrambled to shove everything back in her pack. Leander was in a ready position, eyes scanning back and forth. The chittering they had heard on and off since entering the dungeon grew louder and louder until three things came out of the now not-so-hidden door across the chamber.


    Rebecca had no word for what she was looking at. Rats, maybe, if rats were the size of a dog and had six legs. Laurel told them to expect monsters, that the Core would use the ambient mana to defend itself. She had figured she would face those monsters from behind Laurel and a few trained soldiers. Now sharp claws and teeth were coming straight for them. She took a deep breath and stepped up next to Leander. After the fight on the island, Laurel had been giving them lessons on how to fight as a team. They fell into that formation now. One more moment before the monsters would be there. Rebecca flooded her staff with mana, and felt Leander do the same with his knives.


    ¡°We can do this.¡± They didn¡¯t have a choice. A feeling welled up as the monsters bore down on them. For a heartbeat, Rebecca was back in the clearing with the battling spirits beasts, freedom and survival and savagery and life. Her mana coursed through her body, carrying with it all those feelings and a thousand more, then she was back in the cavern and the monsters were coming.


    The rat-monsters charged straight at them. When they got close enough Rebecca swung her mana-infused staff at the right-most beast. The contact was almost enough to rip the staff out of her hands. She held on, and knocked the monster into the one next to it. The third leapt at Leander. She saw him dodge and slash out with his dagger, but that was all before she was facing down the other two. Her staff jabbed out but she missed the head of the beast she was aiming at. The blow to the shoulder still sent it stumbling long enough for her to block the other¡¯s charge.


    The monsters grew cautious. They leered at her from outside her staff¡¯s range. She could lunge to attack one, but the other would have an opening. Screeching and thuds were coming from Leander¡¯s fight, but she couldn¡¯t turn to see for herself. The rat-things edged closer. She could see hatred in their beady little eyes. They would keep coming until she was dead, or they were. She shuffled back a step to keep the distance. Two at once was more than she could handle. All the months of training but she was still unable to do anything against these monstrosities.


    A blur swept past her left and hurtled towards one of the beasts. Taking the opportunity, Rebecca leapt forward. With Leander engaging a second monster, she landed a hit strong enough to leave hers limping. With one more swing at its head, it stopped moving. She turned to help Leander finish off the last one.


    When they were able to breathe, Rebecca looked Leander and Flint over. The latter had spent the battle on a ledge, pelting the monsters ineffectually with pebbles. Leander was worse for wear. He had a few scrapes and one concerning wound on his stomach from the beast¡¯s claws. Blood was already soaking into his shirt as he stumbled towards her and sat heavily.


    ¡°We won.¡± Rebecca was stunned.


    Leander was meditating and ignoring her. At least Flint sounded happy, making his little clicks. She trudged over to where their packs had been tossed aside. Hers was intact, but Leander¡¯s was ripped open, the contents spilled across the floor. It made it easy to find the bandages and healing ointment. Kneeling beside Leander, she pulled at his shirt to expose the wound. Instead of helping he batted at her hands.


    ¡°Stop it! You need a bandage.¡±


    He shook his head with a mulish expression but didn¡¯t deign to otherwise comment.


    ¡°Is this a ¡®cultivators can heal their own wounds¡¯ thing? Because cultivators can also fight infection.¡±


    When his eyes slid away from hers she knew she was right, and went back to the first aid. A smear of the awful-smelling unguent Annette made them bring and then bandages wrapped around his torso and tied off. It was ugly but it would have to be enough. Her hands were shaking too hard to try anything else.


    They had almost died. Down here in some secret magic cave no one had ever heard of before. It wasn¡¯t like this was the first fight they¡¯d been in. She wasn¡¯t even injured. When she joined the sect, there had been long lectures on the dangers of cultivating. Laurel had told her stories about dangerous situations her friends ended up in. But that had sounded like fun most of the time. Laurel and her friends had always made it out of those adventures. Even fighting the Laskarians, that had been frightening but not like this. After all, Rebecca didn¡¯t really think Laurel would let anything bad happen. But Laurel wasn¡¯t here. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    A firm hand on her shoulder knocked her out of the spiral her thoughts had been taking. Leander was looking at her, resolute. His other hand was on Flint¡¯s shoulder. The little scamp had mirrored the action and was touching her leg.


    ¡°You¡¯re right. We can do this. Everything will be fine.¡±


    *******


    Leander wasn¡¯t entirely sure about that, but Rebecca wasn¡¯t breathing weird anymore so he counted that as a win. The whole adventure was going well. They were braving the unknown like true cultivators. They had done battle and emerged victorious. Sure, he was injured, but he was beginning to think that was normal. He was also beginning to resent the daggers that meant he had to get up close with the spirit beasts he fought.


    Laurel told them stories about how danger made better cultivators. That meant they would be the best. When he got back Eric and the others would be shocked at how strong they were. Even Flint was improving. He had tried to help out with the fight, and Leander swore he was getting smarter.


    Leander stood up, and almost fell right back down again. He refocused on circulating his mana. A cultivator should be able to heal from a simple scratch. Laurel told them she¡¯d walked off a bullet wound in Laskar. He had even seen her when she practically died in the valley and was fine a few days later. The fact that no one had taught them how to do that yet was not important. Every lesson they had was about moving mana, so he would try that. Rebecca took pity on him and collected the contents of his spilled pack while he focused. They might need it, plus it had his treasures from their adventures so far. At least Laurel hadn¡¯t made him bring the plants into the dungeon.


    They stood in a triangle in the middle of the room. The same faint tinkling of the stream and unchanging glow made it seem like no time had passed. If it wasn¡¯t for the corpses they¡¯d dragged to the side, Leander could believe they¡¯d been down here for an hour or a week.


    ¡°Which way?¡± Rebecca asked the question they had both been putting off.


    He had no idea. He couldn¡¯t feel the tug that had brought him to the dungeon in the first place, so either door was a good guess. He shrugged. Rebecca seemed to understand his point. A coin appeared in her hand.


    ¡°Heads left, tails right.¡±


    It spun in the air and landed back in her palm. When she flipped it onto her opposite hand, he saw the king¡¯s head revealed. Left it was. They crept into the hallway. The first had been fine, if a little dim. This one though was downright creepy. Now that they¡¯d had the reprieve he was much less eager to enter the dark. Collapsible stick leading the way, he did it anyway.


    Their pace earlier had been slow. With injuries and a new lesson in the dangers of this place, they were barely creeping forward. Every meter they moved without seeing a trap had Leander more on edge. He could tell Rebecca felt the same from the anxiety coming off her in waves. Ever so slowly they arrived at another room. This one wasn¡¯t as bright as the first but was a break from the oppressive hallway.


    If he wasn¡¯t so focused Leander might have called the cavern beautiful. Soft moss covered boulders were strewn about. The glow this time only came from beneath the small stream, making it waver and move and give the whole room an underwater feeling. Colorful mushrooms dotted some of the surfaces. Orange gills and electric blue caps, they grew in small clusters. Luckily even city kids like them knew enough not to mess with strange mushrooms. Leander had only made that mistake once. His usual haunts for scavenging food had been slim that spring, and he¡¯d decided to eat some mushrooms he found to tide him over. The agony of that week had been the worst experience of his life before opening his meridians. And he hadn¡¯t eaten mushrooms since, until Esther had put them in some dinners where he couldn¡¯t avoid them.


    They stayed in their formation for a few moments. Last time, when they let their guard down, they ended up facing off against the rat things. As the minutes stretched on, nothing happened. The anxiety was still there but maybe the dungeon had safer areas. Or hadn¡¯t Laurel said this was all brand new? There were probably only a few rat things and not any left to fight.


    ¡°Let''s stop here and eat a bit.¡±


    Leander jumped at the sound of Rebecca¡¯s voice. It was the first thing either of them had said since they left the last room. His stomach agreed with the idea, so they pulled out some of the dried food Laurel insisted they carry at all times. Jerky and some weird horrible bread for them, some dried fruit for Flint. If Leander had a few pieces of fruit, well, this was a very stressful day and he had earned it.


    After finishing up they continued to relax. The tension of the last few hours melted off their shoulders as he took what felt like the first deep breath since they¡¯d walked through that first door. They could rest here for a while. Laurel would come find them, and she would be proud of how far they had come. The dungeon really wasn¡¯t so bad. Rebecca leaned back on the moss while Flint curled into a little ball, his tail wrapped around to cover his eyes.


    Leander was about to join them. He just had to pat his pack into some reasonable semblance of a pillow first. Pleased with his efforts, he went to lie down. As he was closing his eyes, one of the mushrooms across from him popped up off the floor on its own.


    Leander was frozen, half lying down. The other two mushrooms in the cluster popped up off the floor as well. He rubbed his hand across his eyes. That wasn¡¯t possible. The mushrooms were walking. Tiny arms and legs wiggled out of the stalks, allowing them to move around. With a jolt, Leander realized they were coming towards him. He turned his head and saw other clusters creeping towards Flint and Rebecca. Why had they decided to go to sleep? That didn¡¯t make any sense, but he still felt something pulling him to lie down and relax. He staggered to his feet. He could barely keep his eyes open but he needed to protect the others. Inspiration struck, and he started cycling his mana. It helped, barely. He didn¡¯t want to go to sleep anymore but he wouldn¡¯t be able to use his mana for his daggers or anything else.


    Leander stumbled over and nudged Flint and Rebecca with his foot. No reaction from Flint at all. Rebecca¡¯s hand swatted at him and she turned over without waking up. He kept at it. The mushrooms paused when he started moving but were coming closer again. He glanced around. They were tiny, coming up to his knee at most. The daggers wouldn¡¯t help unless he was bent over. Rebecca¡¯s staff was lying right next to her. She still wasn¡¯t waking up so he grabbed it. It was awkward in his hands, like it didn¡¯t want to be held by him. Too bad. The mushrooms were close. No time to plan, he swung the staff as hard as he could at the closest one. It was lighter than he expected. The mushroom flew through the air and impacted the wall with a wet thud. It didn¡¯t get back up.


    Victory was short-lived. Seeing him lash out at one of the mushrooms made the rest focus on him. There was a moment of stillness. Then the mushrooms charged. More were popping up and running towards him. That was all he had time to register before he was fighting. He swung the staff, kicked, punched, but it wasn¡¯t enough. As many as he stomped or smacked, there were more coming. They jumped at him, latching onto his limbs. That was when he learned their feet had tiny claws at the ends. They bit into his flesh. He dropped the staff to rip them off, but even more latched on. Any one of them would be easy to beat, but Leander was slowly being overcome by a wave of fungi. Desperate, he dropped to the ground. He screwed his eyes shut, held his breath, and began to roll.


    The mushroom men exploded under his weight. He felt goo and mushroom bits coating his clothing, itching where it seeped through to his skin.


    At least the number of monsters was dwindling. He was able to get back on his feet and scrambled to pick the staff back up. The few remaining mushroom men he chased down, one had even started to gnaw on Flint. Leander took great pleasure in crushing that one to paste. Some time later, the onslaught ended.


    His teammates were starting to stir, so he jogged a lap around the room, crushing any rooted mushrooms he came across and stomping the moss in case it was getting any ideas. When he returned to his friends, Rebecca was blinking owlishly and petting Flint. That changed when she got a look at Leander.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    He reached up to pull out his necklace, only to realize it wasn¡¯t there. Frantic at the loss, he knelt and started sifting through the mushroom pieces that remained. Rebecca recognized the issue and went to help him. She found it, covered in orange flecks and held it out to him. Leander tried to wipe the stones off on his shirt, realized that the shirt was even worse, and used a bare patch of moss instead.


    ¡°Evil mushrooms. Magic sleep. Fought them off.¡± He deeply appreciated the stone that Laurel made him, that translated his thoughts to words. But the fatigue was bone deep, and he couldn¡¯t muster up the effort for more than that. Guilt flashed across Rebecca¡¯s face at his words.


    ¡°And we slept through it. I¡¯m so sorry Leander.¡±


    It was okay. He was falling asleep too, it was only luck he¡¯d been able to jolt himself out of it. Rebecca was still talking.


    ¡°-- you rinse off and change clothes. Then you can rest for a while while Flint and I keep watch.¡±


    Yes, that was perfect. He did his best to scrape off the dead monster pieces and splashed water in the stream. He quickly changed outfits and settled in for a nap. The last thing he noticed before falling asleep was Flint taking up position on his chest.

 Ch 72 - Getting the Band Back Together

    Laurel was fuming. Not only had this dungeon separated her from the group, but it kept changing the path ahead. She was getting closer to the Core, but at random points she would be teleported to tunnels or rooms far from her starting point. The teleportation was subtle enough that there was no way to tell beforehand when this was going to happen, and she had to press on each time. Maybe if she was a spatial cultivator she would be able to make a shortcut. But she wasn¡¯t, so she was reduced to running around like a rat in a cage. The Core was throwing obstacles at her constantly. Wave after wave of expert-tier mana-mutated rats and snakes. Mushrooms releasing poisonous gasses. Undetectable pit traps with molten lava at the bottom. The last room had simply flooded entirely with water until there was no breathable air at all. Each obstacle, puzzle, or fight had her moving even faster to the next one.


    None of the others were prepared for this. And definitely not the kids.


    A disgusting insect dropped from the ceiling in front of Laurel. It was huge, covered in brown chitin and an expert-level beast, again. That was all she had time to notice before a torrent of lightning caused its muscles to seize long enough for her blade to leave it in pieces. That the Core had such strong monsters to throw at her was concerning. Her students were barely initiates. Even one adept beast might be more than they could handle. The beast had barely slowed her pace and she continued to run through the halls, heedless of danger.


    Sounds from up ahead made Laurel go from a run to a flat-out sprint. Those were voices. She barreled around a corner and had to dive under a stream of fire aimed at her face. Oro shouted apologies as she rolled back to her feet.


    ¡°We thought you were a monster! So sorry, so sorry!¡±


    Laurel waved him off. ¡°It¡¯s fine. Have you seen any of the others?¡± The Naxians were all together. The humans looked a bit worse for wear, having battled through their own trials before reuniting with her.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry. We¡¯ve been working our way past the monsters but we haven¡¯t seen anyone else.¡± Oro was doing the best of this group. For all he was a timid young man, he was still a dragon and that came with some unavoidable advantages.


    ¡°Follow me, we¡¯re getting closer to the Core, and we need to find the others. Keep up.¡± She didn¡¯t give them any time to argue before storming across the room and into the next hall. By the sounds behind her, they were scrambling to obey. Laurel slowed to a pace that would keep them as one group. It wouldn¡¯t do to be separated and have to do this dance all over again. Another two of the bugs dropped in front of her. Curiously, these were only at the adept level. The weakest beasts she¡¯d seen since entering the dungeon.


    ¡°Stand back Madam Stormblade. These are dangerous but weak to flame.¡± Oro shouted.


    Instead of listening to him, she plowed forward, sword leading. They were easy to kill and she had no patience left to help the others get stronger. She slowed, allowing Oro to come up even with her pace.


    ¡°Is that the strength of everything you¡¯ve faced this far?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Madam Stormblade. Fearsome foes indeed. Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°The monsters I¡¯ve seen so far have been stronger. If we¡¯re lucky that means the Core is sending us challenges at a level we can handle, as much as it can. Though if that¡¯s the case, it also means this Core is far more intelligent than any of the stories would indicate.¡±


    ¡°Fascinating. Do you still expect I¡¯ll be able to bond with it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I doubt it will ever act like a normal City Core. You¡¯ll probably extend and manage the labyrinth, rather than reinforcing the city.¡±


    The dragon had nothing more to add, and Laurel sped back up. The next room held some sort of disgusting slug. The one after that had freakishly large bats. The group settled into a rhythm of Laurel running in and killing everything while the others trailed behind. The Core was closer than ever.


    The hallway after the bats was trapped, the floor falling out as soon as Laurel stepped onto it, revealing razor-sharp spikes below. Laurel simply glided across using a wisp of air mana. Then she used more to pull everyone else over the trap as well. More rooms, more traps, more monsters. They sped along until they heard the sound of a gunshot from down the hall.


    ¡°Reina, Reynard, is that you?¡± Laurel had long since thrown caution to the wind and shouted the most likely people to have a gun down here.


    ¡°Laurel?¡±


    Her group rounded the corner to see the two soldiers. They were bloody but whole. Brief hugs and backslaps were exchanged before Laurel urged the rest to keep moving. There was probably something being held back to guard the Core. They needed to get there or find the kids before they wandered into something they couldn¡¯t make their way out of.


    **********


    Rebecca was crying. She had tried to be strong, but she couldn¡¯t hold it back any more. Leander was wrapping her hand in any scrap of cloth he could find, while Flint tried to comfort her with small head pats from his place on her shoulder. A few meters away the two smallest fingers from her right hand were lying in the dirt. They had been careful. More monsters had attacked them but after the mushrooms, they were alert and ready to fight them off. There had been traps as well, but Leander¡¯s careful prodding allowed them to avoid the worst of it. Until now.


    The spike had come out of nowhere, and so fast she only barely got the rest of her body out of the way. The wound had gushed blood at first, making her lightheaded. Leander had jumped to help and wrapped it in a wadded up shirt. Cycling her mana on his advice kept her conscious and upright.


    They had come so far, but how would they go any further? Leander couldn¡¯t fight everything himself. Even though he would try, and say, ¡°a cultivator can face down any odds¡± or something else stupid.


    Leander urged her to keep going, and in the end, she listened. What was the other option? Sit around here and hope Laurel wandered by? It had taken a leap of faith to join the sect, to not be weak anymore. She couldn¡¯t just give up when things got hard. She wouldn¡¯t. Besides, once everyone was safe, Laurel would heal her. That would drive her to the end. Laurel could fix it.


    Hours later¨Cit was hard to keep track of passing time underground, but it felt like hours ¨C the tunnel widened. The glow stones were closer together and instead of an eerie crypt, they had entered a lost temple. Carvings showed up on the walls, battles and creatures they had never seen, and text in languages they didn¡¯t recognize. Leander kept them to the slow place, but Rebecca¡¯s gut was telling her there were no more traps. They had been judged and proved themselves worthy, and this was the prize.


    The hall ended not in another of the crude doors but a soaring, carved archway. Their group stopped before walking inside. Even exhausted they could feel the power pouring out of the room. In the center, there was a pedestal like what they had in the sect house. It was still filled with golden light, but instead of the smooth streams they were used to, the mana was wound in a complex knot, impossible to tell all the places mana went in or out. It was probably beautiful, but all Rebecca could see was a twisted presence that tortured them for some unknown reason.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°What now?¡± She was barely on her feet. Leander and Flint were a little better, but not by much. They were both ignorant of the next steps and not strong enough to do anything about it. Leander went into the room and ducked to the side of the door. There he slumped against the wall and slid until he was sitting on the floor. Rebecca joined him. She shared out the last of the food they had with them and forced herself to swallow a portion. Moments later they heard a shout. Wind blew Rebecca¡¯s hair back and forced her eyes closed. When she opened them again, Laurel was kneeling right in front of them.


    She looked back and forth between them before pulling them all into a hug. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, I¡¯m so sorry,¡± she chanted as she rocked them back and forth. ¡°I should have been more careful, this was more than you should have had to deal with. I¡¯m so proud of you for making it this far. Are either of you hurt?¡±


    When Laurel paused for a breath, Rebecca thrust her hand out. Blood had seeped through part of the bandages, dirt and gore covered the rest. The sectmaster slowly unwound the bandages and exposed the two stumps where her fingers used to be. They weren¡¯t bleeding any more but they still made Rebecca nauseous to look at.


    ¡°A battle wound to be proud of. This will hurt a bit  but we need to make sure no sickness sets in.¡± Before any clarifying questions could be asked, Laurel was doing something. Her mana seeped into Rebecca, an experience that wasn¡¯t painful, but it made her whole body shudder. Like facing down a predator she knew without a doubt could devour her whole. That subsided after a moment and the pain began. Rebecca cried out. Her hand was burning to ash, she was sure of it. She tried to rip it from Laurel¡¯s grasp but she might as well have tried to break an iron bar. After an eternity the pain vanished. She didn¡¯t want to look but she had to know what was left. To her shock, her hand looked far better. The stumps had been healed over. Smooth skin covered the ends, just above the knuckles.


    ¡°Can¡¯t - Can¡¯t you regrow them?¡± Rebecca could hear the distress in her own voice and hated herself for it. She wasn¡¯t supposed to be afraid any more. But surely Laurel could fix this. The woman who could pull an endless stream of magical artifacts from nowhere would have a way to regrow fingers.


    Laurel didn¡¯t break eye contact at all when she responded. ¡°That level of healing is beyond me.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re¨C¡±


    ¡°I know, but I don¡¯t have the skill. Regrowing limbs, especially after some time has passed, is fiendishly difficult. The spirit forgets what shape it used to take. A focused healer might be able to do it but that¡¯s not me. A cultivator at my level might be able to regrow their own limbs, but not someone else¡¯s.¡±


    The stress of the ordeal hit her all at once, and without quite realizing how it happened, she was in Laurel¡¯s arms, bawling.


    *********


    Rebecca broke the dam first, but everyone was worn out. Laurel held the girl and rocked her back and forth, doing her best to provide some comfort, while the rest of her expedition broke down. Tears cut tracks along grime-coated cheeks. Reina was doing breathing control exercises in the corner. Leander had simply passed out, using Flint as a pillow. Laurel would be witness to all of it. She was supposed to be the wise sectmaster, but this had been a challenge her students were not ready to face. She was supposed to have learned from the mistakes of her past, not letting her students bear the consequences of her own choices.


    She was supposed to be someone worth following.


    That the only casualties were a few fingers was more due to luck than anything else. The kids had done well,but this dungeon was far beyond fresh initiates, ones that had been barely trained to fight. She wanted to sigh but held the impulse back. If anyone had reason to feel disillusioned or angry, it was the teenager breaking down in her arms. For all Laurel had done to adapt to the modern era, she still thought in terms of her own cultivation journey. One where the sect was home to two grandmaster healers that could fix almost any injury. Rebecca might regrow that part of her hand eventually, but that was decades away at the earliest.


    When she cried herself to sleep, Laurel gently eased Rebecca down next to the others. She pulled some blankets out of storage and draped them over the kids before walking over to where Oro was sitting. Dragons, merfolk, and some other races tended to be more emotionally resilient than the average teenage human. Instead of breaking down, she could see signs of fascination. The kid was a scholar at heart, which would probably serve him well working with this Core. Laurel sat down next to him to talk about next steps quietly enough not to disturb the others.


    ¡°Are you ready for this?¡±


    Some nerves peeked through in his reply. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. This is far outside of what you described, I don¡¯t really know what to expect, and¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Oro. I know it''s a bit unfair to throw you into this. But you¡¯re the strongest magical being in the city. If someone doesn¡¯t start cultivating the Core intentionally, this labyrinth is going to get more and more dangerous. With your help, instead of a threat to the city, this place will be a gold mine.¡±


    ¡°I ¨C wait what do you mean a gold mine?¡±


    ¡°Even as fast as we were moving, I noticed some useful plants and materials growing in some of the corners. My sect, and others, would pay for the option to send our students to harvest and train here. I have to assume you¡¯ve lost some of the usual City Core functions with the inversion, but if you have the opportunity to steer the labyrinth, the tradeoff might be worth it.¡±


    There was more hemming and hawing, but eventually Oro agreed. ¡°Let¡¯s do it now then, before I can rethink.¡±


    Laurel led him over to the Core pedestal. Dragons might be wise creatures of legend, but Oro was barely more than a child, one she was forcing into a role with a city¡¯s worth of responsibility. Maybe if she found some other cultivators that weren¡¯t evil assholes like Corvin she could see if they wanted to take up a position here. Oro placed both hands on the pedestal while Laurel walked him through the process.


    ¡°I know dragon magic works a bit differently than cultivators, but you should still be able to bond. The City that used to sit under the Southern Ocean had a clan of merpeople cultivating the Core.


    ¡°Let your mana flow into the Core and let some of the mana from the Core flow into you. It will feel overwhelming so do your best to anchor your spirit to your physical body.¡±


    As he followed instructions, the golden glow from the pedestal got brighter. The light infused through Oro¡¯s meridians. For a moment, it was as if his body became translucent while the mana channels shone with inner light. Reality snapped back into focus and Oro slumped against the pedestal. A gentle prod from Laurel¡¯s spiritual senses showed he was fine, and there was definitely a new connection to the Core.


    She tapped him gently on the shoulder. ¡°Oro, what sense do you get from the Core?¡±


    ¡°From Araxis.¡±


    ¡°Sorry?¡± Laurel was slightly concerned if the amount of new information had overwhelmed the lad.


    ¡°You were right and wrong. It''s sort of alive and sort of not. Like it''s following a base nature but not really reasoning. I got the definite impression of a name though, it is the city and the city is it.¡±


    ¡°Huh. It''s kind of like a very smart dog. You should keep notes of all your interactions. This could be vital if it ever happens again. Even out in the wider cosmos this kind of information would be worth quite a lot.¡±


    Laurel went to walk away but a sound from Oro had her turning back. He had one hand still firmly on the pedestal and his eyes were half-closed.


    ¡°Madam Stormblade. Um, well, it appears there is more benefit to challenging Araxis then you realize. The Core wants to distribute rewards for successfully reaching the final chamber.¡±


    ¡°What? How, what rewards, why?¡± Laurel¡¯s mind was churning, this wasn¡¯t even hinted at in any of the stories. Depending on the rewards this place would go from useful training ground to a fiercely contested resource. She felt a bit bad for poor Oro, who would be handling throngs of would-be challengers when word got out. But maybe it would help keep an eye on the types of cultivators loose in the world.


    ¡°I can¡¯t really tell,¡± Oro said, answering any or all of her questions. ¡°I can feel that it¡¯s something Araxis is compelled to do, but it¡¯s waiting on my approval.¡±


    ¡°Approve it then, let¡¯s see what happens. Best to get it over with.¡±


    Oro¡¯s mana did something with the Core that Laurel couldn¡¯t follow. There was fluttering in her senses but if she tried to pay any closer attention, the whole thing was obscured. She decided to leave it and talk to Oro sometime in the future. Instead she watched the rest of the room. The carvings on the walls were lighting up, not in the gold of an enchantment, but in brilliant colors, bringing the scene of heroes and monsters to life. The others had noticed but were too exhausted to do much more than angle their heads for a better view.


    Her attention was pulled back to the Core. All City Cores were linked to cosmic mana flows, and that link was swelling, like the Core was pumping in more and more cosmic mana. When it reached some threshold, golden light spewed out of the pedestal and towards each of them.


    ¡°Stay calm!¡± Oro shouted to the room at large.


    A quick survey confirmed everyone had reached for weapons at the strange behavior. No one let go of their weapons or mana, but they also didn¡¯t try to attack.


    The light reached them and began expanding into different shapes. They slowly resolved until Laurel could clearly see the outline of a sword hovering in front of her. A final burst of cosmic mana flowed through the Core, and the sword transmuted from mana to a real blade, made from a blue tinged crystal. She caught it by the handle as it fell from the air. Decent weight and balance. It went into the tattoo to be examined more thoroughly later.


    Rebecca was holding a new staff, no surprise there, the soldiers were clutching identical bows. Araxis must be confused by the guns. The local cultivators were already discussing their prizes but Laurel wasn¡¯t paying attention. Leander was staring at a definitely-toxic blue and orange mushroom that she recognized from a few rooms in the dungeon. Laurel made to take a step in his direction when he exploded into action.  He leapt onto the mushroom with both feet, destroying it. When that wasn¡¯t enough he continued to stomp and smear the remains across the floor while everyone watched in silence. She needed to get the story of their trials sooner rather than later.


    They spent the next hour letting the others relax and chatting about the possibilities for an inverted Core that gave out gifts. Laurel secured Oro¡¯s promise to codify his experiences to be added to the Eternal Archive. Bringing others to such a dangerous place was foolish,  the thin silver lining of adding knowledge to the sect would have to be enough.

 Ch 73 - Sidequest Hustle

    The four of them had been jogging for hours. On the one hand, Cooper was shocked that that was even possible. He was a fit enough young man, but he spent more time reading than exercising, and before he started cultivating the first half hour out of the city might have killed him. Now, if he cycled his mana he could keep this pace up for ages. On the other hand, they could have rented horses or maybe even one of the new steam carriages. But Gabrielle insisted they save the money and run. She and Helene had grand plans. After getting back from their recruitment mission they had taken on any stray task Annette offered for contribution points and started saving as much as they could from the stipend.


    He huffed through the early spring air. ¡°Remind me why the army can¡¯t deal with this?¡±


    ¡°The army is dealing with it.¡± Helene panted between words. They could all keep up the pace but that didn¡¯t mean it was easy. ¡°They sent a team a couple weeks ago that they haven¡¯t heard back from. They thought it might be something magical which is why we¡¯re helping. And I know you know this because you were literally taking notes during the meeting with the general.¡±


    ¡°Well, yes. But I didn¡¯t realize at the time we¡¯d be running the whole way.¡±


    ¡°Oh please, you¡¯re just whining,¡± Gabrielle said. ¡°You were practically vibrating with the idea of a magic mystery we get to solve.¡±


    ¡°Just because you¡¯re right, doesn¡¯t mean you have to rub it in. Next time we¡¯re hiring a ride, my treat.¡±


    A couple kilometers later they stopped for a rest. The spring rains had turned the roadsides into so much mud, but they happened upon one of the old merchant waystations. Not more than a few empty buildings, there was at least a dry floor they could sit on. After collapsing, they sat in silence for a few minutes, panting until they caught their breath from the morning run. Eric, ever thoughtful, pulled out the sandwiches Esther had sent them off with. The rest of their rations were preserved foods that would last for a while, but she had promised a treat for their first meal at least. They devoured the food mostly in silence, with occasional grunts about the taste. Even for Cooper, having grown up in a noble home, the bread was beyond anything he had ever been served. Perfectly crusty on the outside, and soft in the middle, with a bit of tang that came from the starter. When they had finished and were taking time to digest before getting back on the road, Cooper took out the notes Helene had teased him for.


    ¡°I talked to Martin before we left and he gave me some ideas of what we might be facing. The most likely option is that a dangerous spirit beast attacked the town, and then attacked the army team when they got here.¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s the most likely scenario, why isn¡¯t Martin, or his friend, out here dealing with it?¡± Helene was the more timid of the girls, and ruthlessly practical. He was surprised she would point out the obvious.


    ¡°Risk, apparently, makes for good cultivators. And he said it''s unlikely a higher tier beast would appear this close to the city without him noticing. But if it''s too much for us to handle we should retreat. Next options are some sort of plant with a soporific effect or a mundane attack. Those will be less likely to show up as a threat to the City Core, so we can¡¯t rule them out, but it''s pretty unlikely.¡±


    Gabrielle hopped back to her feet. ¡°Well then let¡¯s get a move on. Keep weapons handy and we¡¯ll see what we can find.¡±


    ********


    By noon of the next day, they reached the turnoff for the village they were investigating. The sign marking the turn read two and a half kilometers away. Gabrielle allowed them to slow down so they wouldn¡¯t show up out of breath and sweaty. They crossed the last distance at a walk, weapons out and spiritual senses extended. Having grown up hunting, even if he didn¡¯t enjoy it, Cooper had been allowed to take a gun along. Gabrielle was holding a pistol as well, where Eric had been given a training staff and Helene had a hatchet in each hand. Which seemed insane to Cooper but if they were going to be story-book heroes then unusual weapons went with the job.


    The forest was budding, birds were chirping. On another day, this would be an auspicious beginning to an adventure. Cooper could hear the story writing itself. What he could not hear was any evidence of a village less than a kilometer away. The team rounded the last bend and paused in confusion. There was no devastation. No blood or bodies or nesting beast. There was nothing at all. The clearing that should have housed the logging village was empty.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think this was a monster,¡± Cooper announced, perhaps unnecessarily. ¡°Unless that monster also eats buildings.¡±


    That was enough to push Gabrielle back into action. ¡°Let''s take a loop of the clearing, see if we notice anything. Stay together.¡±


    They crept along the tree line without seeing anything unusual, not that any of them knew what to look for. Everything seemed like an entirely ordinary forest, the village was gone. With nothing else to explore in the surroundings, they decided to take a closer look. As Cooper stepped into what would have been the village proper, he was blinded by a harsh white light, his spiritual senses completely blanking out.


    When he could open his eyes again, he was still in a clearing in a forest, but not one he¡¯d ever seen before. The trees were lush, and covered with winding vines of green and gold. The temperature had gone up, and mist was settling among the branches. All that was pushed to the side as they were confronted with a shouting soldier.


    ¡°Try to go back through!¡±


    Cooper had no idea what they were talking about, and from the lack of response from his companions, neither did they. The soldier ran at them. Cooper dodged to the side and tensed up but the man sprinted through their group until he came to a stop a dozen meters away. He let out a string of curses while stomping back.


    The moment gave Cooper and the others time to notice the entire village had been transported to this place. Buildings were nestled between trees, sometimes around a tree as though both the house and the tree had appeared in the same place at once. People gathered around them. Most of the clothing was what he would expect in a village like the one they had come to investigate, inexpensive and functional. Though there were a handful of additional people in uniform, the rest of the army team most likely.


    ¡°The good news is we found everyone,¡± Gabrielle said, low enough that only their group would hear her.


    The soldiers stepped forward first. One woman with a no-nonsense demeanor stepped in front of the rest and held out a hand.


    ¡°Captain Hunter. I was sent to investigate the village of Salgrove and ended up here with my team. Please tell me you have a way out.¡±


    Cooper was glad Gabrielle stepped up to talk for the rest of them. His parents had given him all the necessary training, but he had never gotten the hang of difficult social interactions. And ¡®magically transported to a new forest¡¯ was pretty difficult in his estimation.


    ¡°Gabrielle Marchant. Initiate cultivator of the Eternal Archive. When your team didn¡¯t return, we volunteered to investigate if anything magical was going on.¡±


    The captain looked them all over before responding. ¡°Well I¡¯m pretty sure we can all agree the answer to that question is yes. And no offense, but I¡¯m not sure what a bunch of kids are supposed to do to help. Unless one of you is that woman who fought off the sea monster?¡±


    Gabrielle¡¯s hackles went up and Cooper decided he would have to step in after all. ¡°We are young, but we are studying magic and are therefore more suited to such situations. Our sectmaster isn¡¯t with us but has confidence in our abilities to resolve the situation.¡±


    Captain Hunter was not convinced. ¡°Okay. Here is the situation, let¡¯s see you resolve it. A month ago, a big flash of light and everyone ended up in this forest. The army sent a team and the same thing happened. Now if we move too far in one direction we end up wandering back into the center here, like a looped track, even though we are sure we didn¡¯t turn around. No one can get home or get out. So in your expert opinions, what can we do?¡±


    They looked at each other sideways. None of them were really experts in magic, they had really only barely gotten past the basics.


    ¡°We¡¯ll look around and come up with some options.¡±


    The Captain sighed. ¡°At this point any idea you have is worth trying.¡± Her voice dropped low, and Cooper saw some of the village kids inching closer. ¡°There are some things we¡¯ve been able to forage for food til now, but they won¡¯t last forever. So if you have a magic solution we¡¯ll take it.¡±


    The Captain retreating back to the rest of the soldiers was a signal to the villagers. All at once they pushed towards the cultivators.


    ¡°Did the king send you?¡±


    ¡°How are we getting out of here?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°Do you have a message?¡±


    Cooper and the others did their best to answer as they could and to give comfort where it was needed. The heartbreak on the villagers'' faces told him they failed. The crowd eventually ebbed back. Kids went off to play, not yet realizing the danger they were in. The adults stood in clumps, talking in low tones and tossing the occasional mistrustful glance over where the cultivators stood.


    ¡°Okay Cooper, you¡¯re the one that pays the most attention to all the magic theory. What do you think is going on?¡± Gabrielle was remarkably unconcerned with the situation they found themselves in. Unlike Cooper who was barely holding things together.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know. My only guess is that this is a hidden realm. But that was a throwaway comment from Martin¡¯s friend. I don¡¯t know how to get out. I don¡¯t know.¡±


    A hand clamped onto his right bicep. Cooper turned to see Eric staring at him. ¡°Breathe,¡± the other boy said. Cooper followed the advice. A few minutes later he realized he had subconsciously dropped into one of the meditation rhythms they practiced in morning lessons.


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m sorry about that. I brought books on everything they suggested and put them in the bottom of everyone¡¯s packs.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll talk about that packing decision later, but for now everyone grab the books and look for the one on hidden realms.¡±


    They all followed Gabrielle''s direction and pulled out the reference material Cooper had brought.


    ¡°These are in that ancient language Adam is making us study.¡± Helene¡¯s delivery was calm, but that didn¡¯t prevent Cooper from hearing an accusation in it.


    ¡°Adam wouldn¡¯t let me bring the memory tablets, so we¡¯ll have to make do. Strictly speaking he isn¡¯t entirely aware I brought the books either.¡±


    They quickly found the relevant book, leatherbound and embossed in silver. They all leaned in to start reading before Gabrielle realized the problem.


    ¡°Cooper, Helene, you two are the best at Alrasian, so work on translating. Eric and I will talk to everyone and see if we can find out anything useful. We¡¯ll meet back up in a few hours.¡±


    ********


    After a communal supper of thin stew, they set up a small campsite away from the villagers. Dinner was just more motivation to get out of here soon. If that was what they had access to, going hungry was going to become a real problem. There was no direct sun or moon that they could see, but the light dimmed in an approximation of nighttime. The group gathered around the book to discuss findings.


    ¡°Good news and bad news,¡± Cooper began. ¡°The good news is, from our best guess at the translation, hidden realms should always have a way to leave. A portal or some sort of magical object that acts as a key in and out. The bad news is I don¡¯t know how to find it.¡±


    Gabrielle was next up. ¡°The villagers have been here for a few weeks. They said it happened all at once. There was a flash of light and then the entire village was moved to this place. A couple of people were badly injured. One died after an infection set in on the broken leg.¡±


    Cooper felt his thoughts stutter. He knew academically that cultivation was dangerous. Hearing someone had died on what he had previously considered a fun quest for him and his friends shattered an illusion of safety he hadn¡¯t realized he was still clinging to . He forced himself to refocus on Gabrielle.


    ¡°-- smart enough to ration their food right away. This far north they know to prepare against a late blizzard that makes the roads impossible. They can¡¯t go on forever though, another couple of weeks maybe.¡± Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Helene broke her silence by joining in. Cooper had been surprised at her fluency in the Alrasian while they were translating, his ego slightly bruised that he wasn¡¯t out and away the best at it. When he asked she said it was another way to earn extra contribution points.


    ¡°The captain said if they walk more than a handful of kilometers out in any direction they somehow end up back in the village. That means this place isn¡¯t that big. We can create a search pattern and find the key to get everyone out.¡±


    It was a sensible plan, and also their only option. If Martin was here he would magic them up a portal or something but they were limited to enforcing their bodies and weapons, and maybe activating a magic gadget or two if they were simple. The girls started sketching out a search pattern based off of a radial grid with the village at the center. Eric coughed to get everyone¡¯s attention and dropped a lump of pale green crystal next to the dirt sketch Helene was making.


    ¡°I think this is the key.¡± Cooper stared at the serious boy a moment. That could change everything. He clumsily reached out with his hand and his spiritual senses to poke at the rock. There was definitely something magical about it. Cooper tested sending a tendril of mana into the rock. A light seemed to flicker in the center for a moment before going out again. They all looked around but nothing had changed. Helene reached for the crystal and began turning it over in her hands, and then rubbing her palm across the surfaces.


    ¡°It¡¯s broken,¡± she announced after a few minutes. She pointed to one side that was smoother than the rough edges of the others. ¡°Here and here, I think pieces came off of it.¡±


    ¡°The plan stays the same then,¡± Gabrielle said. ¡°Tomorrow we start searching for anything magical, with an eye out for green rocks.¡±


    Cooper was slightly aghast. ¡°Have you ever seen rocks shatter? There could be dozens of pieces, more¡­¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll be searching for a while. We don¡¯t exactly have other choices. I¡¯ll ask the captain at breakfast if the soldiers want to join us. No spiritual senses but more eyes can¡¯t hurt.¡±


    ********


    Gabrielle was as good as her word and the next morning, four soldiers joined them in a makeshift search team. They had rope and surveying tools they took out to plan the day¡¯s search. Cooper thought of his own pack which housed some rations, a change of clothes, some basic first aid supplies, extra underthings, a bedroll and several books. He would need to work on his adventuring kit if they were allowed out of the sect house after this The soldiers noticed the same thing as they started to heckle the cultivators.


    ¡°Who goes out without a good length of rope? Do you even have a map?¡±


    Cooper felt his cheeks warm but managed to take the ribbing and give some back. ¡°Who goes to investigate magic without any magicians?¡±


    Not his finest but they couldn¡¯t all be gems.


    The group set off along what they had dubbed the northernmost ray. The lack of a sun or stars made determining a true direction impossible. Instead the villagers decided to use the building placement as a reference. So lines were drawn between what used to be the northernmost and southernmost buildings in the village, and that determined the rest of the directions. The house they started at was nondescript. Made from local lumber and worn through quite a few years. The only distinguishing feature he picked out was a set of child¡¯s handprints in red paint along the bottom of the door.The groups would survey consecutive sectors to stay in contact in case something went wrong. His mathematics professors would be proud.


    It was exceedingly dull.


    Cooper dutifully walked his section, feeling for anything that jumped out to him, or reminded him of the stone Eric had found. The younger boy¡¯s spiritual senses were the strongest among them but Cooper was still competent for his level. The problem was this whole place gave off a gentle mana signature, as though the very air was magical. Staying focused and filtering out that information was not easy and Cooper felt a headache building as the morning progressed.


    They saw a few plants with more mana than normal, but nothing else of note, just the ever-present green-gold vines, snaking up, around, and through the treetops. Lunch was a small meal, unfilling and eaten on the move. The meager rations once more provided enough motivation to keep going as he choked down the flatbread-style biscuits. After what he estimated at six or eight kilometers, based on their average pace, the trees thinned. With a burst of speed he broke through the line only to see the village appear. He had walked in straight lines all day, he was sure of it. This forest wasn¡¯t old enough to get turned around in, and the whole group had kept up a rough line as they walked. And yet, one by one, they emerged in front of the same northernmost house they had departed from.


    The group gathered together to check if anyone had found anything. None of them had so they set up along the next couple of spokes on their grid and set out again. They could get at least one more set done before it was too dark to navigate the trees. Cooper had noticed his night vision improving as he continued cultivating, but the soldiers would be blind in the forest after dark.


    A caw sounded out from somewhere to Cooper¡¯s right. He reflexively looked through the nearby trees to see if he could spot the bird. Stumbling over his own thoughts, he realized he hadn¡¯t seen any animals since crossing into the hidden realm. His search was interrupted by a snorting soldier on his left.


    ¡°That¡¯s the signal. Mark where you were standing and we¡¯ll go over to check it out,¡± the woman said.


    ¡°Right, of course, I remember.¡± Cheeks blazing, Cooper did as he was told and followed to find the rest of the group clumping around Helene and a younger soldier about his own age. Helene filled them in on where she felt the object and they all searched the area. Cooper was elbow-deep in underbrush when he heard Gabrielle shout from a few meters away. After a flinch he couldn¡¯t suppress at the volume, he joined her along with the others. This stone piece wasn¡¯t a small chunk that would be mistaken for a paperweight or toy. The color matched, a pale green crystal. But it was thin and long, maybe three meters or a bit less, and a tube. It was definitely the same, but how it would work together with the chunk they already had was unclear. With the light beginning to dim, there was no time to stand around and discuss. Two of the soldiers hefted the crystal and they all hurried back to their spokes to continue back to the village. No one found anything else.


    After a quick and disappointing dinner, everyone gathered around the two pieces of stone that they had. Cooper and Eric were messing around with the pieces, trying to find an area the two might have fit together before being shattered. The longer piece was smooth except on the two ends so they tried to jam the smaller piece into it to see if they could fit.


    For one end nothing happened. On the other, it seemed nothing was going to happen again. Eric was about to release the two when Cooper stopped him. The green light was coming back, just like when they had tested the first piece. Only barely perceptible, both stones flickered with an innate light. As they held the two pieces together the light grew stronger and stronger. The villagers clustered around were murmuring at the sight and soldiers¡¯ hands drifted towards weapons, but neither cultivator was about to interrupt the process. With a final surge of light the crystals went dormant again. Eric went to pull his piece away and ended up off balance instead. The pieces had merged together The longer edge now had a base on one end. When no more lights appeared after several moments, everyone wandered back to their homes or campsites. It was just the four of them when Cooper spoke his thoughts to the group.


    ¡°Look at the shape. It¡¯s too big to be a key, and it doesn''t make sense for a Core. I bet it will form a doorway. Think about it, what better way to get in and out of somewhere.¡±


    ¡°If it''s a doorway then we¡¯re missing at least two thirds of it.¡± Helene answered with her normal pragmatism. ¡°The edges might be looping back to the center, but it''s still a huge amount of land to search.


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope there aren¡¯t too many more pieces then,¡± Gabrielle said. ¡°We don¡¯t have time to search for ten thousand tiny slivers.¡±


    There wasn¡¯t much to say after that and they turned in for the evening. Cooper tossed and turned with the idea of spending the rest of his life searching a forest for something that wasn¡¯t there until he eventually fell asleep.


    ********


    Two days and three more pieces of crystal later, they had reached the southernmost spoke on their grid lines. Cooper¡¯s prediction of a door was proving correct, even the skeptical Captain Hunter admitted he was right, a fact he tucked in the back of his mind for the next time Eric¡¯s competence bruised his ego. The shape of an arched entryway was coming together with each shard. The whole construction glowed a little brighter every time another piece fused to the rest. The keystone for the top of the arch was still missing but they were hopeful it would be the final piece to their escape. If it had been shattered to smithereens they would be trapped forever. Or until the food ran out. Cooper did his best not to think about that possibility but it had been inching further forward in his mind throughout their search. If any part of the door was ground into dust too fine to collect, they were in trouble. Food was already scarce, and it had only gotten worse in the last two days. Captain Hunter had announced the day before that they were reducing the number of meals per day for the adults. Cultivators were tougher than average, but his stomach still cramped as they began the day¡¯s hike.


    The forest always looked the same. In every direction from the village, it was trees and lush plant life as far as they could see, with mist high above filtering the light so that it almost felt like a dream. It wasn¡¯t the comfort of a familiar forest either, like the one near his family¡¯s estate that he¡¯d explored as a child. None of the others had seen trees like this in northern Merista. Cooper thought they vaguely resembled some areas in the mountains of Jaranda that his family had visited once on a vacation, but it was hard to tell, and at the time he had been more interested in his adventure books and escaping humidity than the local flora.


    The lack of variation made it easy to lose focus. At least that¡¯s what Cooper would say if anyone asked why he almost missed the twinge in his spiritual senses. Just as he was coming level with the area, he realized his mistake and made his attempt at a bird call.


    ¡°What was that, are you okay?¡± Viola, the soldier accompanying Cooper, sounded somewhere between laughing and genuinely concerned.


    ¡°That was a bird call, I felt a piece of the gate.¡±


    Viola tipped over into out and out laughter. Cooper didn¡¯t think it was that bad but apparently his fake bird noises were not up to standard. When she caught her breath she made the call and everyone made their way over.


    ¡°It¡¯s past that next cluster.¡± Cooper pointed in the direction and the group made their way over. It was their routine and there was no reason to change it now. The trees were denser in the area, forming a ring around where the fragment was placed. The group waited while a few of them circled the trees and found a gap wide enough for everyone to squeeze through. Gabrielle went first and Cooper could hear her whooping in delight. Once he made his way into the odd clearing he could see why. The keystone was dead center. No chips or missing bits that he could see. The mint green rock was nestled in a pile of small branches and leaves. Cooper had a fleeting moment to realize the rest of the pieces they found looked like they had fallen randomly. This looked carefully placed. But he was hungry and tired. The monotony of the search and the constant stress had worn him down to his bones. He bent over and picked up the stone.


    Creaking noises came from the surrounding trees. Snapping branches and rustling leaves that should have been still. Cooper¡¯s head was on a swivel searching out the noise. That was the only reason he saw something step out of the tree. A moment passed before his brain registered what he was seeing. It was like a twig came to life. Wooden arms and legs pushed off a central spine as long as his forearm, a few leaves still attached. There was no face he could see, no eyes or ears or anything that would mark it as alive. Except it was moving on its own and coming straight at him.


    More snapping. Cooper glanced over to see another tree creature sprout. Then a third, and a fourth. And they were all advancing towards him. Cooper fumbled for the pistol at his side but Viola beat him to it. A shot and the soldier¡¯s aim was perfect, the first creature blown to splinters. Unfortunately that worked as a signal to the rest of them. They rushed Cooper like a mob of prickly toddlers. Ears still ringing, he tried to kick them away as they got close.


    ¡°Fuck. Too tight for guns, get them off,¡± Captain Hunter was shouting orders he could barely make sense of.


    One of the stick monsters took a running leap and landed on his thigh. Gripping the stone in one hand Cooper tried to rip it off with the other. The thing fought back. Small barbs extended from its limbs and latched through his trousers. He ripped it off and chucked it across the clearing. Before he could even catch a breath he was staggering forward as two more jumped on his back. One arm extended, he pawed over his shoulder to try and reach. More latched onto his legs and began climbing. He fell to one knee. The next tree monster took that as an opportunity to jump onto his chest. One of them had reached the arm with the stone and was latched through his shirt and into the skin of his arm while Cooper tried to rip it off. It went flying, along with Cooper¡¯s blood where the barbs ripped through his arm. His mana was cycling but being stronger or moving faster wasn¡¯t going to help him right now.


    He was going to be taken down by saplings and there was nothing he could do about it.Then the others were there. Gabrielle and Helene tore the monsters off his upper body and tossed them to the soldiers, who broke the sticks with prejudice. Eric did the same for his legs, letting Cooper get back to his feet. With his friends taking the pressure off, Cooper could join in his own defense. The monsters weren¡¯t very fast, but it felt like they were never ending. He kicked and stomped the ones that got close. He had a moment to reflect on the advice from Martin he had ignored about guns not being useful against every type of beast. The sticks were too close and too fast for him to reliably hit, so he was left stomping around and relying on his height to keep the stone away from the stick monsters.


    The tide slowed. Fewer of the beasts even made it to Cooper, past the wall of cultivators and well-trained soldiers surrounding him. The clearing was a mess of broken wood, splinters scattered across the ground. The nest they had removed the stone from had been trampled and kicked apart into nothing. Ever so carefully, they left the clearing. Instead of the nonchalance they had entered in, they were all armed and fully alert but there was no sign of any change in the rest of the forest. Since the clearing was already towards the end of their hike, they continued onwards instead of turning back, relying on the magic of the space to get them back to the village. This time, having gained some hard-won wisdom, they stayed grouped up, with a ring around Cooper where he cradled the keystone.


    The others had bandaged up the worst of his scratches before setting out. Even so, the blood dried, sticking his clothes to his skin and pulling hairs out every time he took a large step. The trudge was made bearable by the hope that this would be the last and they could return to the sect soon after. With its warm showers, and as much food as anyone could eat.


    ¡°Imagine if I already had fire magic for this.¡± Gabrielle was the first to break the tense silence. That broke the tension in the air, and the harsh frowns eased up. Everyone was still on guard but Cooper felt himself coming down from the adrenaline rush, just happy he was still standing. He focused on circulating his mana to promote healing, and let the excited chatter from Gabrielle and the soldiers wash over him. The rest of the walk was filled with cautious eyes and discussions on what kinds of magic would be best for fighting off tree creatures.


    Back in the village, everyone gathered around to watch the final piece of the door get put in place. Children were held back by wary parents, the weeks of being trapped had turned everyone lean and desperate. Cooper had the dubious honor of placing the stone. Captain Hunt assured him it was due to the fact he had bled for it. The fact that the other cultivators were significantly shorter and couldn¡¯t reach likely played into it as well, though his mother¡¯s decorum lessons kept him from saying it aloud. He walked over to the space between two trees where they had propped up the rest of the doorframe.


    The stone slotted in like the rest of the pieces. The green glow, brighter than ever, built and built throughout the crystal. The doorframe shuttered as the last piece fused in place. A moment of calm. A deep breath from all present.


    On the other side of the door they could see¡­ the exact same forest as before. The stones were glowing but they were still trapped. Cooper had relaxed, and now felt the creeping dread back in full force. They had put the door together but it still wouldn¡¯t be enough. They would starve here before Martin came to look for them.


    Light pulsed again. What looked like green lightning shot from the corners of the frame into the center, creating a swirling mass. Cooper¡¯s spiritual senses picked up on the mana in the space rushing towards the door, even without him actively focusing on it. The plasma swirled faster and faster, more mana rushing in, until with one last flash, everything stopped. A swirling green and blue mist was left filling the doorway, obscuring the forest behind it.


    ¡°Do we walk through?¡± Gabrielle asked, to no one in particular.


    That was enough to break Captain Hunter out of her daze and have her snapping into action. ¡°Grab a rope and something heavy Collins. Markson, Filers, keep everyone calm, get them to start packing up, we might only have one shot to get back through.¡±


    The soldiers launched into action while Cooper and his sectmates stood around and watched. Faster than he would have thought possible, everyone had a pack with their most important belongings strapped behind them, and a long rope was tied to a hefty branch. At the Captain¡¯s signal, Viola tossed the branch through the doorway. From where he was standing, he had the right angle to see that nothing appeared on the other side.


    ¡°Good start, it definitely goes somewhere, now reel it back,¡± the captain shouted.


    The soldier followed instructions and the branch came back through the door undamaged. They all stared at it in silence. There was an obvious next step. Walking through a magic portal you don¡¯t know actually works was a risk he wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to take.


    ¡°Do we have any pigs or something running around?¡± His question went unanswered, but they all knew the truth. Any livestock that made it through was eaten weeks ago when food became scarce.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go through first.¡±


    ¡°Gabrielle!¡± Cooper hissed. He pulled her to the side with the others to have a discussion. The woman in question waved his concern away.


    ¡°As the most senior cultivator present, it¡¯s my responsibility.¡±


    ¡°Who said you¡¯re the most senior cultivator?¡± Helene interjected.


    ¡°The point is, we¡¯re doing this.¡± Without giving them any more opportunity to argue, she confidently walked towards the archway. The rest of them hurried to follow. With only a slight check in her steady pace, Gabrielle disappeared into the mist. Helene and Eric followed immediately. Cooper took a deep breath, gave a nod and a forced smile to the rest of the people trapped, and stepped after his friends.


    There was nothing to compare the sensation to. It was like walking through a sheet of water without getting wet. There was pressure, and at the same time like his body was being pulled in every direction at once. An instant or an eternity later, he stepped out of the other side, directly across from the barrel of a rifle. The disorientation made him stumble and a loud voice told him to freeze where he was. His friends were in his periphery, holding their hands up so he did the same.


    ¡°Identify yourselves¡± the same mystery voice was shouting again. Thankfully Gabrielle was either less disoriented than he was or better at faking it.


    ¡°We are cultivators from the Eternal Archive investigating the disappearance of this village. Captain Hunter will be here momentarily to explain further.¡±


    The soldiers were surprised at the confident but useless answer. And even more surprised when Captain Hunter appeared behind them and started shouting at the soldiers to stand down.


    ¡°Clear the area, we have half-starved civilians coming through!¡±


    The soldiers, used to following orders in that tone of voice, jumped into action, stowing their weapons and setting up a triage station. Cooper found their group shuffled off to the side, watching the activity. A slow stream of villagers was exiting the portal. Some seemed to almost enjoy the experience, smiling and looking exhilarated. Others stepped out and immediately staggered off to empty their stomachs. The portal looked exactly the same on this side. A freestanding doorway of green crystal, filled with swirling mist. It was so overtly magical, Cooper had a hard time reconciling it with the village location.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go home,¡± Eric said. After hearty agreements all around, they made to set off, after all the sun told them it was midmorning. They attempted to slip quietly away but Captain Hunter jogged over before they got more than a dozen meters.


    ¡°Wait up kids. I get you want to head home, but we¡¯ll need to discuss what happened once the civilians are taken care of.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be at our sect house, you can find us there or let us know and we¡¯ll visit the fort.¡± Gabrielle said, then they completed their escape. The days jogging back home were uneventful, though still hungry. They found and managed to cook a small rabbit but it was barely enough to take the edge off. When they saw the city in the distance, Cooper almost cried. It was without a doubt the happiest he had ever been upon seeing the capital.

 Ch 74 - Here We Go Again

    Adam and Annette were among the first applicants in line for the open petition day at the palace. Adam had insisted and Annette had agreed, she had far better things to do than wait in line all day and was willing to sacrifice some sleep for the hour-long journey from the Flats up to the palace before dawn. They were in their sect formalwear, though without Laurel or Martin along, Annette had left the expensive jewelry at home. With only a few other petitioners in front of them, they were called in and sent over to a plain looking man sitting behind a large desk, slightly raised off the floor. The only piece of the whole tableau out of place was a flamboyant pen in the shape of a golden feather. He did a double take when they approached and sat up straighter.


    ¡°How may the palace assist you today?¡±


    Annette took a steadying breath before pasting on a smile and responding to the man. ¡°We are here to register a new guild.¡±


    The man¡¯s eyes widened and the two nearest administrators who had also heard the comment were gaping at them.


    ¡°I see. Well there are quite a few forms and requirements that need to be met in that case. First do you have a Guild Establishment Request Form?¡±


    Adam produced a thick bundle of papers and aggressively laid them on the table. He was still angry with the palace for the suit filed against the sect, and had only agreed to let Annette take the lead in the discussion after days of cajoling and arguments. The administrator leafed through the packet far faster than Annette would have expected. With each page he looked more and more disheartened until he carefully tapped the whole thing on the desk to align the pages and set it aside.


    ¡°The preliminaries appear to be in order. Now we can get into the rest of the process. While your application will be reviewed, a verbal interview is also required.¡± The functionary pulled out an even thicker stack of papers and pulled the first one forward. ¡°Now, what industry, trade, hobby, or vocation will your guild represent?¡±


    ¡°Magic users, the creation and distribution of magic services and items.¡± Annette answered almost absently as she watched the golden pen write of its own accord.


    ¡°I see. Can you verify that a significant portion of that market is willing to join such an organization?¡±


    Annette was not looking forward to reviewing all the information that was in the application they had just submitted, but kept a smile on her face through years of practice. Laurel might have a point about the palace bureaucracy being difficult to navigate.


    ¡°Yes, our application includes a list of individuals, organizations, and families that account for the requisite threshold for magic power in the country.¡±


    ¡°By law, guilds must have a membership application process that anyone can access and join. How will you be verifying this?¡±


    ¡°Membership is determined in several levels. Anyone who completes a standard application and can demonstrate an external application of magic or verified internal application from a guild officer will be considered for basic membership. Competency, as determined by assessments or verifiable deeds can allow for a higher level of membership. Recognized organizations of magic users can apply for group membership as well.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t think that¡¯s an undue burden for applications?¡± The man raised an eyebrow, while his pen never stopped moving.


    ¡°Members in the Kitchen need to be able to cook, don¡¯t they? Members of the Scholar¡¯s Guild need a degree. I don¡¯t think there is anything undue about asking people to prove they can actually do magic.¡±


    ¡°And the benefit to Meristan society? What arguments are you making there?¡±


    Annette reached into the bag she carried and pulled out a bottle of liquid, a rock, and an embroidered scrap of fabric. ¡°I bought these yesterday in the market in the Garion neighborhood.¡±


    ¡°I fail to see ¨C¡±


    ¡°These,¡± Annette spoke over the man¡¯s interruption, ¡°are perfectly mundane seashells being sold as magical artifacts. A guild allows for regulation and authentication of such items. A guild license process will allow Meristan citizens to ensure goods and services they contract are valid. We also prevent others from taking advantage of magic users. And perhaps most important to the palace, this allows a formal method for the government to contract with magic users to maintain the mana infrastructure of a region.¡±


    The man¡¯s eyes had glazed over by the end of the explanation, but he didn¡¯t press them any further.


    ¡°That appears to be in order. Now onto guild rules and regulations.¡±


    The interview continued for ages. So much for saving time. Annette was forced to explain everything from the different tiers of membership, the open job board, guild leadership structures, location, even whether or not food would be served in their guildhall and if so, would it be free to members. Since at the moment their guildhall was the rickety shop Laurel and Adam had rented in the slums, the last, at least, was easily answered. Adam sat quietly, per their agreement. She could feel his annoyance spike every time they needed to repeat something he had already labored over in painstaking calligraphy, but he refrained from calling the administrator an idiot so Annette was thrilled.


    ¡°Congratulations, you are provisionally approved as a new guild, and may begin operating as such. Permanent status will be reviewed in half a years¡¯ time, with full rights to be conferred afterwards. Good luck and welcome to the gauntlet.¡± Their application was stamped with official palace ink and it was done. They had half a year to survive all the other guilds and noble houses attempting to tear them down, and prove themselves worthy. A grin split her face as they made their way outside. She couldn¡¯t wait, let the battle commence.


    ********


    Madam Sabrina met Annette at the newly confirmed guildhall, Adam having begged off since his official duties as their trained Scribe had been completed. The elegant woman was looking over the storefront with a considering frown.


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen worse,¡± she said. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Annette produced a key and they entered the shop. The detritus of the months as their home base was mostly gone. A few pieces of paper with half-formed to-do lists remained on the desk, while a drooping potted plant clung to life in the corner of the window. Quick reconnaissance of the back rooms showed a similar barren atmosphere and one disturbingly moldy loaf of bread.


    ¡°It has good bones,¡± Annette announced into the dusty quiet.


    That earned a snort from Sabrina. ¡°Not exactly a fashionable guildhall location.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, if you want to buy some property in a better district and donate it to the guild I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be stopping you.¡±


    ¡°As I said,¡± Sabrina replied, ¡°a good place to start out. We¡¯ll send some of the kids to bring supplies over and have it looking proper soon enough.¡± She interrupted herself by dragging a chair through the dust and into the corner with the best light and gesturing for Annette to do the same. ¡°Let¡¯s talk business. Everyone is going to come for us. I¡¯ve been brainstorming and I know you have ideas.¡±


    ¡°The membership application fees for our sect members was deposited yesterday in the guild bank account. With your approval as acting chair, I¡¯m thinking we take out advertisements in the major papers, for services like item evaluation, and potentially basic healing, anything we can think of. Hit hard and fast, with a big enough splash that the larger guilds can¡¯t crush us quietly.¡±


    ¡°It might antagonize some of them, but I agree we need to make a splash. And an income stream. What about the other guilds? We¡¯ll be feeling pressure from all sides.¡± Sabrina said.


    ¡°I have some ideas.¡± Annette was desperately wishing they had already furnished the shop before these talks, a cup of tea would do wonders for this conversation. ¡°I¡¯m not sure we can plan until they make a move though.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s start with the Scribe¡¯s Guild,¡± Sabrina said. She proceeded to list out all of the guilds with branches in the city, along with several of the major noble families and other rich people whose opinion mattered. ¡°Don¡¯t start flagging now, we¡¯re only getting started.¡±


    The rest of the afternoon was spent planning attacks and counterattacks. Drawing up lists of allies and people they needed to woo with some well-timed favors. Annette stumbled into her bed face-first by the end of it, not moving until the following sunrise.


    *******


    Martin was standing in the middle of the Via Merista, the city behind him, the lower districts masked in fog, with the palace glittering above in the dawn light. Devon had agreed to join him and was currently kneeling in the middle of the road. Spring was well underway and fading fast, summer swiftly approaching, and he knew Laurel was due back in a couple of weeks. He was champing at the bit to drop all of the tedious fucking chores he had acquired into her lap the minute she got home. At least this was something interesting and part of his actual duties as Battlemaster.


    ¡°Well? You see the problem right?¡±


    ¡°The problem?¡± Devon was incensed and Martin held the laugh in with a struggle. ¡°It¡¯s completely open and the peninsula gets so wide so quickly that a decent wall will take ages to finish. Even with the prep work you¡¯ve been doing, don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t notice that. That¡¯s not a problem, it''s a travesty.¡±


    ¡°Yup, but it''s our travesty. I¡¯ve been starting to reinforce things for a foundation but it¡¯s not ready. And of course we need like seventeen different people to agree to something like that, which they won¡¯t do without discussing it for a year and a half.


    ¡°The area is absolutely steeped in ambient mana. The two of us should be able to figure something out.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to, won¡¯t we? Have you told any of the mortals yet?¡± Devon asked.


    ¡°Not yet,¡± Martin said. ¡°I was hoping Laurel would be back before it built up too far but it can¡¯t be helped.¡±


    ¡°Has the Core given you any idea of what to expect?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a lot less precise than the old masters made it look, but I think it''s a fucking horde.¡±


    ¡°Those are the worst. One big monster is so much better, isn¡¯t that what happened last time?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but the Core wasn¡¯t established enough for a good warning. And I wasn¡¯t expecting this next one to come so fast. I swear if Laurel doesn¡¯t bring back something to up the repulsion more, I¡¯m going to go mad.¡±


    *********


    Fort Sarken was as ugly as ever when Martin walked up to the entrance the next morning. His highest streak of days avoiding the king¡¯s council was at an end, and he figured the generals would be the most straightforward options to start. And the ones most able to do anything. He gave the structure a spiritual sweep as he approached. Nothing. It had probably been too much to hope that the building that was supposed to defend the city had anything in the way of enchanted protections. His name, along with flashing a jade seal with the sect insignia had one of the guards on duty leading him further in. The room he was brought to was that Verilian architectural classic, a bare stone box. He rolled his eyes behind the soldier. One day, people would learn that serious conversations did not require ugly rooms. The soldier left him there to run after General Mansfeln, and Martin was immediately bored. Laurel might keep a novel on hand for these situations but that was not his preferred way to waste time. The conference room didn¡¯t have enough open space for combat practice, so instead he leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and let his spiritual senses extend through the compound. It was standard, as military outposts always were. The guns were new, and the planes, and the gear, but he had seen a thousand places just like it. Soldiers were drilling in one area, while an officer shouted down a new recruit in another, assigning the man an awful cleaning detail as punishment.


    A few flinched when his perception passed over them. The new batch of cultivators then. Decent enough foundations, but none had broken through to the initiate level yet. The most advanced of them had gone with Laurel, but at least a few of these were ready to break through. Good. The dumb mana reinforcement and magical chores he had been doing as reparations for the sham of a trial ¨C which he hadn¡¯t even been here for ¨C had him thoroughly agreeing with the decision to keep their secrets close. Including the easiest way to open meridians. They could figure it out themselves or pay for assistance from the sect. Though Laurel probably helped the ones with her anyway. He felt for her, he did, but losing one student had her overcompensating with the rest.


    An eternity later, a man with a serious aura stomped towards his waiting room. Martin rolled his shoulders and stood up to meet the general.


    Mansfeln walked in with an irritated expression. The aides accompanying him sat to the side without making eye contact. In a mood with Martin, apparently.


    ¡°General Mansfeln, if you didn¡¯t know. So? To what do I owe the pleasure of being dragged out of an important strategy meeting. With. No Notice?¡± He bit out the last words with enough venom to cow a lesser man. Martin was actually impressed.


    ¡°Did Laurel explain why that leviathan attacked in the fall?¡±


    The general heaved a big enough sigh that his mustache hairs fluttered when he let it out. ¡°Yes. Dense ambient mana and something with the Core. A bunch of magical nonsense meaning we¡¯ll be repelling attacks every year or two. Something I was in the middle of strategizing about if you wouldn¡¯t mind¡­¡±


    ¡°Right. Every year or two makes sense if the infrastructure supporting the Core was already properly anchored, or if the city was smaller. When Laurel gets back from her mission she¡¯ll be working on that. But for now, the timing is more variable.¡± The general tried to cut him off but Martin spoke over him. ¡°And the next of these waves will be coming in about two weeks.¡±


    ¡°Son of a whore! You could start with that next time, man. Weeks, Tribet, go get the others. And a map of the city.¡± The aides sprinted away to follow orders. When they were alone the general turned back to Martin. ¡°How confident are you in the timeline?¡±


    ¡°Very. You should be impressed. Last fall the Core wasn¡¯t strong enough to give more than a few minutes warning when that thing attacked. Now we have weeks.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose your talents extend to more exact descriptions of the threat?¡± It was quite impressive how well a man could embody the idea of ¡®glaring daggers¡¯.


    ¡°Not as specific as I would like. I can tell it''s not going to be one big monster this time. We¡¯re going to get what we used to call a horde wave. Lots of weak beasts, attacking all at once. Which is one of the reasons we used to build walls around cities.¡±


    ¡°Verilia used to have walls, they were damaged beyond repair four hundred years ago. No real point in rebuilding with modern weapons, but that¡¯s not exactly relevant at the moment. We aren¡¯t building walls in two weeks. Do you have anything besides bad news to add?¡±


    ¡°Of course! You lucky men and women get me here to help you make a plan. And of course the sect will fight as per our agreement.¡± He remembered Annette¡¯s instructions from that morning just in time. ¡°Though if you want assistance from the others, you will need to contract through the guild.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you have a guild now? And what makes you think we need any assistance? I¡¯m not running a nursery here, these men and women are trained soldiers.¡±


    ¡°For one, one of those people is a master enchanter, which you are definitely in need of. For another, your soldiers weren¡¯t all that effective against the last monster attack were they? And most crucially, you have a horde of monsters attacking a very large, very vulnerable group of citizens. You need all the help you can get.¡±


    The man stewed in silence for a few minutes while they waited for the others. ¡°Is Laurel getting back any time soon?¡±


    ¡°Stars, I hope so.¡±


    A grunted agreement was all he got until the rest of the commanding officers appeared. Then Martin got to discuss the whole thing all over again. At least when the conversation evolved into defense planning, Mansfeln forgot some of his annoyance at Martin, and took the man¡¯s suggestions to heart. It was well past dinner by the time he made it back to the sect, with promises to return the following day.

 Ch 75 - Battle Plans

    Annette and Sabrina stood side by side, surveying the now open guildhall. The last few days had seen a parade of young sect members and the visiting cultivators carting out the old furniture, and setting up an entirely new storefront. Sabrina had insisted the guild needed a signature flair. Annette had agreed after privately regretting not coming up with the idea herself. So deep greens and gold covered the space. One wall was left mostly empty, with a few notices Annette had pinned to the board, for investigating magical phenomena the papers had mentioned. The center of the room was dominated by a large desk, to be manned on a rotating basis as part of guild dues. Behind the desk were shelves of books, along with jars of ingredients, mana-rich plants, and some basic alchemical solutions a couple of the students were making. Martin had been able to confirm they would at least work a little, and wouldn¡¯t do any harm, though he had admitted he had no head for more advanced alchemy. As though her thoughts had summoned him, Martin burst through the door like he was stepping onto a stage, with Devon following behind. The impression was complete when he actually took a bow.


    ¡°Ladies, rejoice, for we have brought you what is sure to be the centerpiece of our new guild. Truly a treasure to shake the heavens. Unimaginable, indescribable, un-replicatable¡­¡±


    ¡°Please just tell us, Martin.¡± Annette pinched the bridge of her nose. Was it impressive or concerning that this was Laurel¡¯s best friend? And the most powerful man in the country, at least magically.


    ¡°Fine, Devon, our bosom friend ¨C¡±


    ¡°Lukewarm ally.¡±


    ¡°Ahem. Thank you Devon. As I was saying, our favorite enchanter has decided to bend his considerable talents to support our worthy goal ¨C¡±


    ¡°I was out-of-my-mind bored.¡±


    ¡°And he has crafted a wonder to replace our mundane job board!¡± Martin was practically shouting to drown out Devon¡¯s asides.


    At the cue, two of their newer students walked in carrying a large object. At first it appeared to be a window pane, but more clear than anything the local glassworks produced. Careful inspection revealed it was actually a thin sheet of mana crystal the students propped up against the wall.


    ¡°Any member can add jobs, along with descriptions of danger and rewards. They can also advertise services they are willing to provide, along with a host of smaller features. Most importantly,¡­¡± Martin looked around as though waiting for something.


    A sharp glance at Devon and one master-cultivator-eyeroll later, Devon deigned to pick up the sentence.


    ¡°With a careful application of mana over several months, a smaller crystal will form that can be broken off. Like a succulent plant. That crystal will sync up with the main board. They can be sent to other cities or really anywhere with a Core and keep up to date on guild activities.¡±


    Annette felt Sabrina go rigid beside her. This was game changing, paradigm-altering, revolutionary. No guild had this. Anyone around the country could accept or post jobs. Most of the larger guilds had branches in more than one major city, but for everything except the largest decisions, they were often forced to act like separate entities. Decisions had to be made with week¡¯s old information. There were noises out of some sectors that rapid transmitting messages would be coming soon, but nothing had hit commercial markets. For a guild whose members lived around the country, and in fact had to in order to bond to different City Cores, this would be an incredible gift. Instead of being divided and easily conquered by the larger guilds, they would have an information network like no one had ever seen.


    ¡°This is extraordinary Devon. Thank you.¡±


    ¡°You are very welcome Madam. I hope this qualifies as proof of my abilities.¡± Questioning glances had Devon elaborating. ¡°That is a requirement to join, is it not?¡±


    ¡°It is, yes.¡± Annette was hesitant but Sabrina seemed content to let her take the lead on this. ¡°You said you weren¡¯t interested in joining.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t. But I¡¯m stuck. Without the Legacy Stone, it will be difficult to start taking on students of my own or setting up my own guild. Frankly, I¡¯m at loose ends until Laurel gets back and this idiot and I can go find it,¡± He said with a vague wave towards Martin. ¡°Your little experiment is interesting. A network of sects working together and trading from strength to strength is new and it has potential. I¡¯m hardly going to wait around to be left behind.¡±


    ¡°Okay, now that my thunder has been thoroughly stolen, it¡¯s time for us to head out.  We have a date with a war council to get to. Enjoy exploring ladies.¡±


    The master cultivators departed, along with the students, after mounting the new job board on the wall. Sabrina and Annette were once more alone in the new guildhall and Annette didn¡¯t waste any time. She immediately pushed a small amount of mana into the board. Her stomach roiled and she wrenched her hand back. Deep breaths kept her from losing the breakfast she¡¯d had before arriving. Much, much slower, she tried again. The information overload was easier to handle a second time. The features available were staggering. And her senses told her a more powerful cultivator would be able to do even more. A throat cleared behind her.


    ¡°As fascinating as it is, we have other work to do this morning,¡± Sabrina said.


    That she was correct didn¡¯t make Annette any less annoyed at the interruption. But she shoved that feeling down. Laurel might let her do whatever she wanted, but as much as it galled her, she was not in fact the head of the guild. Sabrina was in charge, and Annette was here to represent the interest of the sect, and make sure their endeavor didn¡¯t collapse so soon after starting.


    ¡°You¡¯re correct of course. What¡¯s the damage?¡± Both women sat down and Sabrina brought out an impressive stack of parchment. Annette spotted a few pieces that were so cheap they could only be an insult, though most others looked at least minimally respectful.


    ¡°About half are requests for services. The ads appear to be working. The other half are veiled threats in one form or another from the other guilds. I¡¯m expecting we¡¯ll get visitors in the next few days. And this.¡± Sabrina handed Annette a piece of quality parchment.


    Thick and soft, it was the best money could buy. Brilliant purple ink in perfect calligraphy covered the page, each line precise, the ink not bleeding or smudging at all. The content was about what they had expected from the palace, but less than she¡¯d hoped for. Especially after Laurel rather spectacularly saved the city only months ago.


    ¡°No disapproval, but no support either. We¡¯re on our own.¡±


    ¡°That was my interpretation as well. But of course, we magic users do well on our own. Now I¡¯d like to start with the Mercenary Guild ¡­¡±


    Annette dug into the work with relish. The day wore on as they went back and forth on the best ways to handle any threat, and establish the guild within their six-month timeline. Annette had over a decade of learning how the back-room deals within Meristan society got made while she sat on the sidelines. Now she was able to flex all of that knowledge. She and Sabrina were going to war.


    *********


    War was coming to the city, and instead of doing anything about it, Martin was stuck in another interminable meeting. This was why he was going right back to making Laurel do all of the official business the minute he could. Being part of the meeting group instead of the people actually helping was torture. He leaned over to try and bait Devon into pranking the army officials but the other man swatted him back without looking. The officer droned on and on with ideas to defend the city. Giving credit where credit was due, some of the ideas were actually good. Martin and Devon had agreed to try and set up some terrain control systems and traps. If they were ever freed from sitting here. Other ideas were clearly from people who were only used to fighting other people, and not semi-crazed beasts. They had also missed something obvious which he was going to have to take care of. He was almost looking forward to sneaking into a hostile country with Devon when Laurel got back, just to be free from things like this.


    ¡°None of your plans appear to be taking the harbor  or cliffs into account.¡± Martin had cut off one of the interchangeable soldiers that had been talking all morning.


    ¡°Explain!¡± Mansfeln barked.


    ¡°Well, the beast wave isn¡¯t directional. The horde isn¡¯t all going to be land based. What options do you have for fighting sea creatures?¡±


    ¡°Like that thing from last year? I thought you said it was small animals this time.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I don¡¯t expect another leviathan.¡±


    ¡°Then what¡¯s the problem? The fish can do what they want and we¡¯ll keep people from going out on ships.¡±


    ¡°These things won¡¯t be fish. They are coming for the Core and the lack of water won¡¯t stop them.¡±


    That set off another round of shouting officers. Aides ran in and out of the room in a constant stream. Martin lasted fifteen minutes, and honestly, he was impressed with himself. Another handful of master cultivators and he wouldn¡¯t be forced into these fucking frustrating meetings at all, they would handle it without need for assistance. But they didn¡¯t have that, and he didn¡¯t have time to be messing around with mortal bureaucracy. He stood from where he had been lolling against the wall and put two fingers in his mouth. A piercing whistle rang out across the room, causing Mansfeln and his staff to flinch.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for a full education on aquatic combat. Devon and I,¡± the man in question twitched at being lumped together with Martin but that was fine, ¡°will handle the three quarters of the surroundings that consist of the ocean and river. You all will do everything you can on the land. You can reach out to the guild to contract with some other cultivators to help out with your section.¡±


    Some whey-faced man in the corner refused to accept sensible ideas when he heard them. ¡°We need to contract with your guild for magical assistance for a magical problem? Hardly patriotic of you.¡±


    ¡°We aren¡¯t members of your military, if you¡¯ve forgotten. And in fact we could do nothing, sit safe in the sect house and watch the chaos.¡±


    The man went to respond and Mansfeln stepped in. ¡°That¡¯s enough Johnson! Master Martin, we accept your proposal.¡±


    Martin took the opportunity to make a quick escape, Devon coming alongside him. They were silent until they had been escorted all the way out of the fort. Not seeing any reason to delay, Martin angled so they were heading towards the port.


    ********


    Annette¡¯s eyes were burning as she looked at the page of notes in front of her. She and Sabrina had worked late the last few days, leaving Annette just enough time to stumble back to the sect house, scarf down some food, sleep for a few hours, and get up before dawn the next morning to do it again. Cultivator stamina was the only thing making it possible, and even that was being slowly overwhelmed by her bone-deep exhaustion. After all, she was running the sect at the same time. Martin was busy doing something with Devon to defend the city. Adam was dealing with the lessons and the library and corralling students. The curmudgeon had found a knack for creating the glow stones and other little trinkets the sect was crafting for sale, and had taken over supervising the others. A yawn and an involuntary stretch interrupted her reading, and Annette realized she had reached the bottom of the page without understanding any of the words.


    ¡°I¡¯m taking a nap in the back, I¡¯m useless right now,¡± she told Sabrina. The chill between the two women had thawed over the last few days in close contact. Annette reluctantly admitted the woman was both clever and subtle, with more experience than Annette in wrangling difficult personalities and organizations. The older woman was also a stronger cultivator, no worse for wear after the sleepless nights. She laid down on the one remaining bed and was out before any more thoughts could form.


    Sounds of conversation woke her up some undetermined number of hours later. After ensuring she was still presentable, she went out to join the discussion and get back to work. A tall woman in brown leathers with a pistol on one hip and a well-worn dagger on the other, with long black braids down her back, was looming over an unruffled Sabrina. She couldn¡¯t pick up the conversation thread and decided an interruption would be more useful.


    ¡°Hello, what¡¯s going on out here?¡± she swanned into the room as though she had not a care in the world. Sabrina immediately picked up on her plan, an advantage of the nonstop work they had been doing together recently.


    ¡°Our friend, Mathilde from the Mercenary Guild was stopping by to ask how our guard contracts work and provide some advice.¡±


    The Mercenary flashed a smile that was more a baring of teeth than anything approaching convivial.


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    ¡°That¡¯s right. We¡¯ve been guarding merchants or doing retrieval jobs for a long time. Makes for some good advice if you¡¯re looking to get into the game. After all, wouldn¡¯t want you to make a mistake and get your membership revoked. ¡±


    So their tests from the other guilds were beginning. It was shocking it had taken this long for anyone to make their threats more directly. At least the Mercenary¡¯s were an easy place to start, and Annette knew the part she was to play in their strategies. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here then,¡± Annette said. ¡°We would be interested in hearing how you plan to deal with monsters like the leviathan that come for ships you are guarding? Or identifying magical threats?¡±


    Mathilde snorted. ¡°Same way we deal with other threats. With gunpowder and good steel.¡±


    Sabrina jumped back into the conversation. ¡°We all saw how little effect that had last autumn. Why don¡¯t we discuss how to make a system that works to everyone¡¯s advantage.¡±


    The mercenary pulled up a chair and negotiations got under way. Annette had little she needed to contribute. The Mercenary Guild had been pleased to have their sect as a member originally. The leaders were more practical and less old-fashioned or hung up on their own nobility than some other guilds. They were a bit more willing to change with the times. Magic was becoming a threat they would need to deal with. Mathilde¡¯s terms were not far off what they had been willing to offer, and after some back and forth, a formal agreement was reached. Mercenary Guild members could contract with members of the Magic Guild, with guild cuts of the contracts being determined based on membership numbers and seniority. The opposite was also true, and any cultivators could put jobs to the mercenaries when they needed mortal backup or skills, with compensation determined in each case based on a set of guidelines worked out by the trio of women.


    ********


    Martin flexed his mana and a disk of ice flash froze on top of the water. Devon did something with the flying device he was using and gently landed in the center. They were a few hundred meters offshore, past the breakwaters. Close enough to hear the hubbub of the busy port, but far enough that they weren¡¯t dodging ships. Winter had seen a drop in traffic but as soon as spring scented the air, the merchants were on the prowl. Now on the cusp of summer, it was as busy a port as any he¡¯d seen. He turned to look back at the city. It had been one burden after another since they got here. But the art was good and the food was better, so he would do what he needed to defend it. This was home now.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± he asked Devon, who was kneeling and looking towards the horizon.


    ¡°A sieve ward. When Laurel gets back you can set up something better, but with what you and I have on hand, and a week and a half to do it, that¡¯s our best option.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the one like a reverse net? Keeps the little ones out and lets some of the big guys through?¡±


    The other man let out a loud sigh. ¡°There¡¯s no way you didn¡¯t learn about ward types during training in the Eternal Archive. I refuse to believe it.¡±


    ¡°I learned about it, then forgot because I never had to set them. That was Faren¡¯s job.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Yes, a sieve ward will keep the low tier beasts from swarming. Since we¡¯re dealing with a horde, that should give you and I enough time to deal with anything stronger that gets through.¡±


    ¡°What do you need?¡± Martin asked, cracking his knuckles. It had been a while since he got to really use his cultivation for anything interesting.


    ¡°Pillars, every hundred to hundred and fifty meters, coming out of the seabed. Stone would be best but ice will do if you have to. If you go all the way across the peninsula and make it a ring, the whole thing will be easier to enchant.¡±


    ¡°If we do the whole perimeter, won¡¯t the enchantments burn out too quickly?¡±


    ¡°Maybe if you¡¯re half-rate enchanter friends were doing it. I¡¯ll make the part on land looser since we¡¯ll have so many fighters concentrated there. That will let the whole thing last long enough to outlast the wave. We can talk more permanent structures later.¡±


    If he was going to loop the whole city there was no time to waste. Without saying anything more to Devon, he dove beneath the waves.


    He took a deep breath in and then let it out again. Martin loved being underwater. When he was little he had been constantly drawn to rivers and lakes near the citadel. Later, when he had started cultivating he knew it would be part of his focus. If you can command the earth and the sea, you can go anywhere, do anything, never be trapped or stuck in one area, doing one thing.


    Most didn¡¯t understand the connection between the elements but it had always been obvious to Martin. Water could freeze and stone could melt. Stone could stand against water¡¯s might while water could wear stone into dust. They were the ever-present duality the world was built upon. After a couple of decades of cultivating water aspected mana, he had developed the ability to breathe down in the depths. Most cultivators had some way of dealing with being underwater by the time they became masters, but for most it was a technique or something they used a natural treasure to anchor in their spirit. Martin had simply understood water enough that the ability to filter the air out was entirely subconscious. The sea was a whole world that most never explored. Helene was thinking about a water affinity, from the gossip he¡¯d heard around the sect. Maybe he¡¯d pass something down, though water was too vast a concept for any two cultivators to follow the exact same path.


    Shaking himself out of the reverie, he dove further until he was standing on the muck at the bottom of the harbor. He sent a fervent prayer to the universe that they could get something set up to purify the water around here when they evolved the Core. Even with deep ocean to dilute it, the runoff from the local foundries was having an effect. There weren¡¯t enough plants or small animals close to the city. But that was a problem for the future. There was work to do. He sent his senses deep into the ground. Beneath the layers of mud and silt and into the solid stone below. When his mana had saturated the rock completely, he leaned on his will power and pulled. The earth followed his command as it formed a pillar beneath his feet. Fifteen meters high and rooted in bedrock, it would do. He sped a hundred and fifty meters north and repeated the process. Devon would have some way to get down here to do the engraving, and if they had to loop the city there was no time to wait.


    Martin relaxed into the routine. Deep below the waves, the passing time was unimportant. He broke the surface on the opposite side of the city from the port. Rocks covered the jagged shoreline, which along with the short cliffs meant only a token lookout was watching as he made his way out of the water. He clambered up onto a jagged shard of rock for the next pillar. Instead of calling more stone out of the earth, he commanded the rock to reform. It flowed like the surrounding water until another pillar jutted up, this one exposed to the sky. Martin angled himself towards the shore and pushed off, leaping the hundred or so meters to another rock shard in two bounds. Two stops later he touched down on top of the cliffs. Nowhere near as tall as the portion he had already looped around, they were a mere few meters above the surf. The difference in elevation was high enough for him to see across the wide peninsula. The Fort sat squatly across from his perch, still lit up like midday with lanterns dotting the ramparts, windows glowing with the work within. Good. For all the stuffy man¡¯s frustrating tendencies, Mansfeln was good at his job, and he was taking the threat seriously.


    His eyes drifted further inland, to the threads of his own mana driven deep into the earth. The basis for what he had hoped to be a defensible wall, on the edge of what the Core considered the true city. Another few years and he would have had this city locked up tighter than a fishwife¡¯s purse. But that didn¡¯t matter today. True cultivator-formed walls took time. He might be able to force that much stone to move, but without the rest of the process, it would collapse within a few weeks. Then they would have rubble to sift through if they wanted to start again, not even mentioning the danger of pulling that much rock out of the surrounding area without careful planning. He had no desire to see the sect house in a sink hole because he¡¯d destabilized the foundation. Mana could be transmuted into physical matter but the amount necessary for a wall that size would beggar even a city this big. Nevertheless, the smaller, temporary structures he was making with Devon would be fine. And this bit would be easier, cannibalizing some of his earlier work for the immediate defense.


    He went back to his pillars of stone. The saturation of his own mana made this piece easier, and he barely touched down before the next column erupted, launching him towards the next position. His path took him in a rough arc, around the Flats, looping around Fort Sarken, and back out into the harbor. When he reached the place he started, it was far later than anyone should ever be awake, into the early hours of the following day. He dove back into the depths and found Devon where he was further along the trail. He perched with eyes closed on top of one of the pillars. Mana pulsed out of him and into the stone. Martin observed as the enchantments carved themselves in swirling lines from top to bottom. Once the other man paused, Martin used his control of the water to move himself closer.


    ¡°How¡¯s it going?¡± Deft mana application and long practice meant Martin could speak and be heard underwater.


    Devon threw some device out to float next to him before he replied. The vibrations emanating from the thing formed words when they got to Martin. ¡°The difficult part is just getting started. I¡¯m glad this isn¡¯t meant to be permanent because I¡¯m embarrassed by the level of work I¡¯m putting out here. But we should be done in time. I¡¯ll need a few days on these and then you can use the core to infuse them all at once.¡±


    ¡°Should I start now on the ones you finish?¡±


    Devon took a moment before replying. ¡°Better not, it would mean you¡¯d have to concentrate on it the entire time. You¡¯d be better off helping them prepare their defenses.¡±


    ¡°Fine, if I must.¡± Martin started to move away before he called back out. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t tell anyone you¡¯re a softie.¡± He dodged the half-hearted mana bolt Devon sent towards him as he made it back to shore. Tomorrow he would help out. But first a shower, a nap, and breakfast.


    *******


    Annette could feel the anxiety ramping up in the city. At the end of the previous week, announcements had been placed in all the major papers, along with actual town criers for the poorer sections of town. The palace was warning them to expect a monster attack. Even knowing what she did about both the threat and the defenses, Annette was terrified. This was her home. She had barely traveled beyond it, and now crazed magic monsters were going to attack.


    It was worse than the leviathan. That had been horrific, but there was no warning. Everything was going along in a normal morning routine, and then Laurel was battling along with the air corps out over the ocean with nothing in between. There was no build up of tension or fear. No hoarding of food and other resources by the wealthy. She could tell the palace was doing its best to stave off panic, but there had been a spate of robberies in the less affluent areas, leading to more policing and more violence.


    Martin might be unconcerned, but she wasn¡¯t yet some immortal master cultivator. She barely felt like a cultivator at all. The thrumming of mana under her skin was always there. And she could use the job board that now dominated the guild office, and the other devices scattered throughout the sect. But that was it. She hadn¡¯t grown like the others after opening her meridians. It was her own fault. Her time was spent running the sect, or helping Sabrina with the guild. She still did the exercises every morning but that was it. There weren¡¯t enough hours in the day.


    Worse, the others had noticed. Or Martin had, at least. He was ferociously observant beneath the flippant exterior. There had been a few pointed questions on if she was still pursuing a space aspect, in the quick moments they had both been back at the sect house at the same time. Which was why she was back in the middle-class section of the city, at the end of a row of well-loved homes, standing in front of a faded green door. It opened and Annette felt tears welling in her eyes.


    ¡°Mama.¡± That was all she got out before her mother¡¯s arms wrapped around her and held tight.


    ¡°Come inside sweetheart, the tea is already brewing.¡±


    After taking a moment to tidy herself in the washroom after the embarrassing breakdown, Annette joined her mother in the living room. The worn furniture and decorations were the same as when she was growing up, and she felt them wrap her in the comfort of the familiar.


    ¡°Are you ready to talk?¡± Annette¡¯s mother was never one to allow avoidance in her presence. Even with gray beginning to color her braids and crows feet framing her eyes, she was still a formidable woman.


    ¡°I¡¯m scared, Mama.¡±


    ¡°Scared of the attack or something else? I can¡¯t imagine with all your fancy magic that you won¡¯t be safe.¡±


    ¡°Part of it is the attack. The sect will be safe but what about everyone else? Would you and Papa come stay with us during it?¡±


    ¡°Anne, sweetheart. How could your father and I abandon our neighbors and run away during a time like this. I know,¡± she held up a hand to forestall Annette¡¯s protests, ¡°I know you have room, and I know you¡¯d offer our friends room as well. But you know as well as I do that if word got out, you¡¯d have a riot outside your doors.


    ¡°No, your father and I will stay here, and know that all the wonderful things you¡¯ve built will keep us safe.¡±


    Again, Annette was sobbing in her mother¡¯s arms. She stayed there even after she calmed down, reveling in the feeling of being taken care of. Until her mother decided it was time to dig deeper.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s why you came though.¡±


    ¡°Of course it¡¯s why I came, Mama. You know how much I worry about you and Papa.¡±


    ¡°I know dear, I know. But its not the reason you were already crying when you got here.¡±


    Annette couldn¡¯t maintain eye contact while she confessed. ¡°I¡¯m failing, Mama. I¡¯m trying so hard and I¡¯m still failing.¡±


    ¡°Tell me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be running the sect as Quartermaster, and working with the guild. But I¡¯m also supposed to be becoming a spatial cultivator. Laurel and Martin have tried not to push but I can tell how important it is to them that someone gets that affinity. But I have so much work that I¡¯m barely cultivating. Which means I can¡¯t actually do the work as well. I feel like I¡¯m being torn apart.¡±


    ¡°Sweetheart, has anyone actually said they think you¡¯re failing?¡±


    ¡°Well, no,¡± Annette pouted. She was here for sympathy, not logic.


    ¡°And does anyone expect you to be running the sect and half the guild at the same time?¡±


    ¡°If I don¡¯t do it then who will? I¡¯m the one with the experience for this. That¡¯s why they hired me in the first place.¡± She looked down and to the side. Annette couldn¡¯t face her mother¡¯s look if she admitted the reason she had joined the sect was to trade for her father¡¯s healing.


    ¡°I liked Laurel. She¡¯s a woman who has lived a lot of life in her years. Asking for help when you need it shows some deep character, and she didn¡¯t think twice about that. Doesn¡¯t strike me as someone who hasn¡¯t learned the value of balance.¡±


    ¡°You think that I should give one up? I like them both.¡±


    ¡°Child, did you hear me say give one up? I said seek balance. Get off your high perfectionist horse, and ask for help. Delegate.¡±


    Annette shrank in on herself. ¡°But then how will I know it¡¯s done right?¡± she said in a small voice.


    ¡°Stars above, how did I raise such obstinate children? You will go back to your sect and set them up for defense for the monsters. Then when that unpleasantness is over you will get one of those students of yours to help you and train them so that you have time to cultivate.


    ¡°You¡¯ll start all that right after dinner. I made your  favorite and your father and I never see you nowadays.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mama. Thank you, Mama.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, child. You know you can always come home and we¡¯ll fix you right up.¡±


    ***********


    Sabrina¡¯s entrance to the office broke Annette out of the brooding she had slipped into the next morning in the guildhall, thinking through her mother¡¯s advice. The older cultivator got straight to work after some muttered pleasantries. The last few days had been a deluge of minor guilds wringing them for concessions. The Fishers and Hunters both demanded that any of their members must also join those guilds if they intended to fight spirit beasts or harvest specific mana-infused plants. The Historical Society and Scholars Guild were still trying to demand unrestricted access to their records. Adam had cackled when she relayed the development, and Sabrina¡¯s polite dismissal of such demands. More had visited with their own offers, that were so absurdly niche Annette had barely even been aware of their existence. Were there really still fletchers around when everyone hunted with rifles? Sabrina defended against them all with impressive tenacity. Each group seemed intent to carve out their own portion of the magic users, until they were whittled to nothing and failed the guild bid. The Coven leader was not letting them get away with it. She argued for equal concessions, twisted language in the guild¡¯s favor, even outright denied a few. Annette was impressed. In the depths of her own heart she could admit they made the right call on their first guild head.


    The ding of the bell interrupted the mountain of paperwork the women were attacking. Annette did a double take when she realized General Mansfeln and Madam Curson had just walked in, each flanked by an assistant. The council members had grave expressions, where the underlings looked nervous, eyes darting to every corner and shelf. Madam Curson gave a cursory look around the room, and Annette got the impression that the woman had cataloged the entire thing, its treasures and its faults, including those of Sabrina and herself. She suppressed a shudder.


    ¡°Ladies. As we are in a state of crisis, I will be direct. As I am sure you are aware, we anticipate a magical attack in the next week. We are looking to contract with any of your members willing to assist in defending the city.¡±


    Sabrina was as unruffled by this declaration as ever. ¡°Thank you for coming, Madam Curson, it has been a while. I wish we could catch up under happier circumstances. I have here a list of members willing to assist.¡± She produced a sheet of parchment with carefully penned names. ¡°There is the matter of compensation. Our members, like any mercenaries supporting the army, or merchants donating goods, expect to be compensated. I have included a suggested schema in the documentation.¡±


    The councilwoman took the sheet and examined it. Mansfeln, reading over her shoulder, exploded. ¡°That amount is absurd! Gouging the treasury in a crisis, this is shameful.¡±


    A gentle hand went up from Madam Curson to cut Mansfeln off. ¡°While I understand the desire to be paid for services, this is higher than we would give to any mercenary company, as you compare yourselves to.¡±


    ¡°We are of course willing to hear counteroffers,¡± Sabrina said. ¡°However, I hope you note the high level of skill our members possess. The barrier to entry is far higher than that of the Mercenary Guild.¡±


    What followed was a masterclass in negotiations. Sabrina and Madam Curson pulled out every trick and clever argument they could muster. In the end, the guild got the worst of the deal. Perhaps things would be different if they had another half dozen master cultivators to throw at the problem. Or a few dozen adepts with a bevy of external techniques. But they didn¡¯t. There were maybe a dozen members, outside of the sect, close enough to contribute to the defense and willing to do so. The council members left, after their aides had produced and notarized a copy of the contract. Annette used the message board to confirm the transactions as Sabrina brewed another pot of tea for the two of them.


    ¡°That went well,¡± Annette said.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t agree more. Tell me, when the sect was looking for press, what journalists did you reach out to?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to make sure there are stories about our virtuous members helping defend the city.¡±


    ¡°Oh I see. Leverage the contract to gain public legitimacy, and use that to gain political capital and legitimacy in the eyes of the government and other organizations.¡±


    ¡°Indeed. We¡¯ll owe Curson a fruit basket or something. She went far too easy on us.¡±


    ¡°That might be Martin¡¯s fault. I think he¡¯s been annoying Mansfeln so much that she was probably trying to balance him out.¡±


    ¡°Whatever the reason, it worked. Now we just have to survive the onslaught.¡±

 Ch 76 - Beast Wave

    It was time. Martin sank beneath the waves on the west side of the city, out beyond the harbor. Devon was on the east side, readying to defend from underwater attacks. The feelings from the Core had changed for the last few days. Instead of a vague anticipation, he had gotten more and more precise feelings of the time approaching. Until this morning, when he felt nothing. Like the receding waters before a tidal wave, the sense of the horde had cut out. Adam had poured over enough reference material to know what that meant. Messages were sent, and everyone was in place. Now it was down to Martin for the final defenses.


    He let the water cushion his body as he sent his mind back towards the Core. Over a year of work from both Laurel and himself meant the ambient mana was smooth and mostly predictable. With the Core as a focus, Martin reached out to the flows. Ever so gently, he nudged the mana into his first pillar. The enchantments came to life as mana infused into the stone. Glowing golden symbols lit up the murky depths of the sea floor. When every rune was infused, instead of letting the mana go, he pulled it towards the next pillar, keeping mana pumping through the first all the while. The second pillar took slightly less time to infuse. On to the third. Faster and faster, mana powered the enchantments at Martin¡¯s urging. At the same time, he had to keep the flow through the entire network steady.


    Again and Again.


    His consciousness rounded the northernmost point of the city, below the royal palace. He felt Devon as a complex web of mana, with the fine channels of a master tidal cultivator. The transition to land was shaky. He almost lost hold of his original mana flow as he forced his mind onto the cliffs. Past the defenders, with a few pinpricks of mana highlighting the cultivators, far less complex but still noticeable against the backdrop of mortals. Then he plunged back into the harbor. The speed had increased the entire time, and the mana circuit was completed with the force of elephant stampede.


    Martin wrenched his consciousness back into his body, no longer forced to control it all. Limbs shaking, he was privately pleased he was already underwater and no one could see him. By the end, that was more power than he had ever channeled before. He grinned. When they had time to truly work to the city¡¯s defense, nothing on this world would break through.


    Drifting on the gentle tide, he watched the ward take shape. The kids¡¯ spiritual senses would feel something happening, but wouldn¡¯t be able to tell exactly what. With an extra century of experience, Martin could watch as though with regular sight as a golden net formed between the pillars. The amount of mana would burn the enchantments out in two days. Maybe faster if the horde was larger than expected. But for those two days, the majority of the beasts would be pushed away, back out into the ocean or plains. A few would survive to become spirit beasts. The rest would eventually dissipate, as the mana surge passed. Until then, it was time to fight. Any of the larger beasts that got through were for him and Devon to defeat. With a stroke of inspiration, Martin pulled another pillar up from the sea bed, this one not part of the ward. Devon might not show it, but he was wickedly competitive. Martin would have to keep count on how many of the beasts he destroyed to rub in the other man¡¯s face when it was all over.


    **********


    George stood on top of the temporary fortifications the army spent the last fortnight building, looking out over the countryside surrounding the city. The soldiers had been busy. Without the time to build a full wall, they had substituted a series of trenches and fortifications centered around the warding pillars. The result was a maze of death. Anything that made it past the forward ranks, the pit traps, spikes, and caltrops would be met with a rain of hot lead from the men and women manning the fortifications. It was a mix of unruffled veterans and raw recruits absolutely shaking in their boots, courtesy of Fort Sarken¡¯s status as the main army training ground. The mood would have been dark if not for the mercenaries. Hired to assist the army, the battle-hardened men and women were tossing jokes around and taking bets on who would kill the most monsters. The camaraderie reminded him of the other magehunters, before things had gone to shit.


    ¡°Oi, wizard-man!¡±


    Terrible nicknames and all. They motioned him over to the pillar they were set around. Closer, he could see the runes turning gold, one after the other. There was a bright flash when the final rune activated, the light then receding to a barely detectable glow. The pillar was spewing mana in his spiritual senses. A quick burst of his own mana sent to his eyes showed him they were all activating, one after the other.


    ¡°Listen up!¡± he shouted to the station. ¡°It¡¯s starting soon! Be ready.¡±


    He hopped back down and jogged over to his station to do one last check. Both pistols were on his belt, loaded with bullets he had tried to infuse with mana. He wasn¡¯t used to doing it, and a few of them had blown up in his face while he tried to figure out the right technique. Other people had handled the equipment enhancements for him when he was in the Empire. But those would be a backup today. His main weapon would be the rifle in front of him. On loan from the army, he had been told in no uncertain terms that they expected it back in pristine condition. The novel loading mechanism made it faster, the precision craftsmanship increased accuracy. Combined with his own talents, he was there to focus on the particularly strong or threatening beasts.


    The platform beneath his feet began to vibrate. George looked out toward the horizon. A dark mass spread across the entire peninsula. The horde was here.


    *********


    Cooper watched in helpless horror as the tide of monsters crashed into the defenders. He couldn¡¯t even make out the individual monsters. It was a wall of fur, claws and fangs, descending to rip them apart. Baying and howls echoed across the low hills. Cooper had to consciously relax the grip on his rifle. Guiltily looking around, he saw the younger soldiers all looked nervous, but took cues from the officers and veterans. He reminded himself that killing anything wasn¡¯t his job. He wasn¡¯t strong enough yet to kill monsters with a wave of his hand like Martin. Instead he and the other initiates in the sect were acting as spotters. They would pick out the strongest monsters, and take them out or direct the soldiers towards them.


    The wall of flesh slammed into the defensive works. Blood filled the air as pit traps and spikes did their grisly work. A red mist floated over the maze of trenches, scenting the air with death and gunpowder. He couldn¡¯t take it. His stomach heaved and he vomited over the side of the platform. Painful contractions continued until there was nothing left, and Cooper became aware of a hand patting his back.


    ¡°There there lad, get it all out.¡±


    Cooper stood back up and turned to see the gray-bearded sergeant in command of their small unit.


    ¡°Happens to the best of us. Take a few breaths and back to it eh?¡±


    He gave a shaky nod and walked back to his position. The leading monsters were getting close enough for his senses to be useful. A pack of five got close enough for him to pick out details. They were like a cross between a rabbit and a hyena, barreling forward with reckless abandon.


    ¡°Strongest is second from the left,¡± he called out. They had already seen him vomit, but at least his voice wasn¡¯t shaking.


    ¡°Williams, fire on my mark. Ready¡­.mark!¡±


    The crack of a rifle rang out from where the sharpshooter was above the rest of them, with uninterrupted sightlines. The beast staggered, blood welling from the wound on its chest, but it kept going. That is, until another shot slammed home in the same area. The rest of the pack was easily dispatched after that. They had a breather before the next grouping. And the one after that. For now they were holding steady. But Cooper looked out to the horizon. There was no end to the monsters. Every one they cut down was replaced with two more.The defenders, on the other hand, were very finite. Planes were flying overhead and firing down into the mass of bodies, but if they had much of an impact, Cooper couldn¡¯t see it. Martin had told them the wave would last for days, and he just hoped they could last.


    **********


    Eric could hear gunshots from his place within Fort Sarken, but they were mostly drowned out by shouted orders and running feet as the soldiers moved like a well-oiled machine. He felt like a fraud. He could have been out there like the others, but he had decided on working with the doctors instead. He forced himself to run through the reasoning one more time. He didn¡¯t know how to shoot a gun the right way. He wasn¡¯t that good at fighting with any of the weapons Martin tried to teach them. Growing up, he had gotten into some scraps to protect his brother, but it was not his best talent. He was trying to become a healer, and had reached the point to be able to help on some wounds, and to infuse the medicine with mana to keep out infections and  keep people alive.


    So he sat, and listened, and waited for the wounded to flood in.


    ********


    The thunder of gunshots was a constant background noise for George. He had long since stopped cycling any mana to his ears to avoid permanent damage. His eyes weren¡¯t so lucky, as he continued to take out the most dangerous of the monsters. The result felt like he¡¯d rubbed sand directly onto his face. On rare occasions in the past he had been forced into this kind of focus, and so he had a store of drops he could put in his eyes periodically, picked up from a local apothecary. He was already half way through the bottle. This was unlike any battle he¡¯d seen before. The monsters just kept coming. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The mundane soldiers were also a surprise. The secrecy of the magehunters kept him mostly apart from anyone else. If anything, soldiers in Laskar were more likely to distrust anyone with a whisper of magic. Here, the soldiers were happy to have him, cheering every time he took down the larger monsters. A shout had him glancing backwards. One of the runners had been cornered. George swore in three languages. Those runners were the real heroes of the day. They could only stockpile so many supplies at each station. The fast soldiers were relaying ammunition and orders around the battlefield. The angle was wrong, the soldier too close to the monsters to risk a shot from this distance. And they needed those supplies. The horde hadn¡¯t slowed at all, and they were running low on bullets. Already, George had been told to start leaving some of the weaker monsters to get deeper into the defenses.


    There wasn¡¯t time to come up with a plan. The woman was dodging back and forth, but the pack of monsters was driving her into a trap. Before he realized what he was doing, George had leapt off the platform. Hitting the ground with a roll, he sprinted towards the soldier. His pistols found his hands with no real thought. The weapons practically thrummed. He¡¯d been through years and dozens, no, hundreds of fights with these guns and they had never let him down. He sent thoughts of ¡®just one more¡¯ out into the world and down into the guns.


    Five beasts, twelve bullets. There wouldn¡¯t be time to reload. His path arced around so the young woman he was running towards wouldn¡¯t get caught in the crossfire. He swore again, she was practically a child, but anyone willing and able to help had been recruited in the city¡¯s defense. His left hand came up and two shots went off. Both struck home. One in the flank of the closest monster, and another through the eye of another. The first changed course and launched itself towards him. He ducked under its leap, jumped the fallen one and stormed further into the rest of the pack. Three more shots. Two hit home but the last missed as the beast changed course in a way he hadn¡¯t anticipated.


    Mana pumped through his body, every sense pushed to the absolute maximum. He suppressed a gag at the sweat and blood in the air. George threw himself to the side as the first jumped at his back. Two more shots brought it down. But not before its hind claw left a scratch across his thigh. Not major enough to go to the fort, but he¡¯d be limping back to his post. It would be fine as long as he could stop the bleeding. And it was far from the worst injury he¡¯d seen today. Plenty of people had been carted off the battlefield, and others had been left where they had fallen.


    With two monsters down and the way clear, the soldier didn¡¯t waste any time. She was sprinting away, with a quick salute tossed to George. The monsters had scattered towards other defenders, and he took advantage of the lull to get back in position. A rag tied around his leg was the best they could do. The sergeant in charge of the station was ranting at him for abandoning his post without warning, but George was barely listening. Despite it all, he felt good. He had saved that girl. It was a far cry from destroying lives like he had in his last job. A warmth settled in his chest. Despite the grime and the blood, he went back to his rifle with a smile on his face.


    *********


    Shouts and screams replaced the music and laughter that were the  usual sounds of a Verilian spring night. Sabrina of the Indell Coven jogged slowly through the city slums. The wealthier citizens were holed up in their mansions in the higher districts. Strong walls and private guards would protect them. But the Flats were getting any of the monsters that made it past the army. Most would angle towards the Eternal Archive building, sensing the Core¡¯s anchor, and spend their mana fruitlessly against those impregnable walls. But plenty were savaging their way through the poorer areas of the city.


    She rounded a corner and came to a scene she was becoming all too familiar with. A monster had cornered a young man in an alley. He was holding a discarded chair leg in an attempt to keep the animal back. But she could see his hands shaking and the sweat dripping from his brow. The beast¡¯s haunches tensed in preparation to leap. Sabrina didn¡¯t let it get that far. In an instant, she had conjured and launched a spear of ice. It pierced entirely through the monster¡¯s body, and embedded into the wall opposite. The grotesque version of a fanged field-rabbit thrashed a few times before slumping down and going still.


    ¡°Get inside,¡± she barked at the boy, who was staring with his mouth agape. He jumped and ran off, and Sabrina went back to patrolling. Another dozen of the same kind of encounters and she felt herself reaching exhaustion. The longest day of her life was coming to an end, but the invasion was still going strong. Sabrina stumbled back into their humble guildhall. A magic-user named Maurice, from one of the country villages, was sitting in the front, meditating. His eyes opened when she walked in and without a word, he strode out of the shop. Sabrina threw the latch and then went to the back where a small bedroom was set up. She collapsed fully clothed. As she drifted off she thought of Martin and Devon defending most of the city without rest, and the unfortunate fact she would be doing the same tomorrow.


    *******


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t part of the reason we joined this madhouse in the first place so we wouldn¡¯t be powerless anymore?¡± Adam was pacing back and forth across his office. Annette was sitting ramrod straight in one of the armchairs, sipping tea with absolute precision. They had spent the day in the rotunda with the members of the sect still at the novice level, along with the staff. But when night had fallen and there was nothing else to see, everyone had dispersed for bed. Or in their case, for rants in the privacy of  their own office.


    ¡°It was, and we aren¡¯t powerless. Our duty at the moment is to keep everyone here calm, and ready to handle the aftermath,¡± Annette said.


    Adam snorted and threw himself into his chair. He produced a flask and took a swig of the contents. He raised an eyebrow and gestured with it towards Annette¡¯s tea. She gratefully held out her cup and accepted a splash of spirits.


    ¡°That¡¯s what they tell people who have to stay back to keep them from causing trouble. We¡¯ve been cultivating longer than anyone else in the sect. But somehow we¡¯re the fools who are sitting back and doing nothing while we send the kids out to fight. Makes you wonder if Laurel just recruited us to do her busywork.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t believe that,¡± Annette countered sharply. ¡°We¡¯ve been treated well here and Laurel has been entirely honest. Martin as well, even if he avoids paperwork. This is our own fault.¡± Adam didn¡¯t answer but Annette took that as a tacit agreement. The man wasn¡¯t one to avoid an argument. ¡°We¡¯ve been complacent, falling into our usual niche instead of pushing ourselves.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, but I¡¯ve been working my ass off for this sect. Complacent?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the thing. It¡¯s been in the back of my mind since the guild was established, and this whole experience highlights it. And some pointed words from my mother. Laurel gave you the library of your dreams to be in charge of. She gave me the chance to run a whole new organization, to climb the social ladder my way. And we grabbed those opportunities with both hands. But we only did that. Tell me when was the last time you cultivated with intent after we opened our meridians.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, a few weeks, maybe a month?¡±


    ¡°The kids out there have been practicing every day, pushing themselves.¡±


    ¡°And? We can hardly stop the responsibilities we already have.¡±


    ¡°No, we can¡¯t. But this is going to keep happening every few years. So unless you want to be stuck inside with the weakest members of the sect every time, we¡¯re going to have to put in the work. I¡¯m recruiting an assistant or two after this whole debacle. And you are as well, that¡¯s non-negotiable.¡±


    They lapsed into silence. The sounds of the battlefield were barely audible as they both sipped the whiskey. Eventually they went off to bed, the second day of the ordeal expected to be just as harrowing, if not more so, than the first.


    *******


    Martin sped through the ocean with savage glee on his face. If these enemies had the ability to read expressions they would be running the opposite way instead of invading his city. A mutated octopus appeared out of the gloom. Without slowing down he bowled directly into the monster. It tried to immobilize his limbs with the tentacles and bring his body towards its beak. It failed. He gripped two tentacles near the base and ripped the beast in half. His laugh was lost in the waves. A quick flick of willpower and another tally was carved into his third counting pillar, while the beast core came close enough to get sent into his storage tattoo. Another thread of mana slingshotted him back the way he came, where he felt a strong presence pierce through the ward.


    The new monster was some sort of shark. There wasn¡¯t much time to consider the details as he  brought his battleax out, suppressed the natural friction that would slow his strike down, and cleaved it in half.


    He hadn¡¯t had this much fun in ages. No politics, no weirdly specific types of paper he needed to be aware of, no doing favors for random mortals. Just a good, old-fashioned melee. Three monsters broke through at once towards the northern tip of the city. He used spikes of ice to kill two and grappled the last onto the seafloor. A spike of earth finished it off.


    For a moment everything was still. The light had long since faded but Martin didn¡¯t need it to see in the depths. Beyond the ward entire schools of the mana beasts were being turned back. He swam to the nearest anchor pillar. Cracks were visible starting at the top and working their way halfway down. Sending his senses into the Core, there was a feeling of an end approaching. Another day, maybe a day and a half. They would have to hold. No more time to rest, the wards were breached again and he was back into the fray.


    *********


    General Mansfeln hadn¡¯t slept a wink that night, and was ready when dawn revealed the devastation of the previous day.


    The area outside the city was usually kept empty for defensive purposes. The occasional farm or singular cabin broke up the vista, but it was a refuge of nature and peace in contrast with the hustle and bustle of the city. That peace had been shattered. Replaced instead with a maze of trenches filled with rotting flesh. Most of it from the invading monsters, but far too many of his soldiers had fallen in the last day. The unending, untiring nature of the enemy had worn them down. Moans of the fallen replaced the normal birdsong behind him. Half of the main drill grounds was a triage station for the injured. White tents housed those that were mostly stable. It was those close to death the doctors were operating on in the normal infirmary. Consultations with the cultivators said they needed to last two days. They were half way done.


    ¡°Report! How are supplies? What are our casualties looking like? Have we been able to get the reinforcements cycled through?¡± There was no time to stand around, he had a job to do. And that was to make it through today with his army intact and the people safe.


    **********


    The second evening approached and George could barely aim his rifle. His eyes were gritty, his hands were shaking. Each shot was a triumph of willpower.


    ¡°One more, one more.¡± He chanted the mantra to force himself onwards.


    The scene with the messenger had repeated itself another four times. He had done his best to save them all. Failure sat in the pit of his stomach when he recalled that the next to last one had not made it out. A stray claw to the neck was enough to snuff out an entire life. The body was still there. Sparing people to tow it away was impossible when the beasts continued to come.


    Sunset changed the light, making it hard to spot the worst of the beasts. If yesterday was anything to go on, they would set bonfires alight to give the mundane soldiers light to aim by. ¡°One more. One more.¡± Sighting down the barrel, George dragged the dregs of his magic and forced it into his eyes and hands, gently squeezing the trigger. The monster went down. No time to wonder why it was easier than the others, he sought out the next one. He pulled the trigger. A click but no shot. He reached for the catch but his hands were shaking so badly the gun fell onto the platform. Nothing went off, thankfully. George knelt on the raw wood planks to pick it up but fumbled and dropped it again.


    ¡°There lad, calm a moment.¡± It took seconds before George realized the officer was talking to him. The older woman picked his rifle up and pulled George back to standing by his arm. ¡°It¡¯s over. Look, it''s over.¡±


    George tried to follow her instructions. He looked across the landscape but he couldn¡¯t quite understand what he was seeing. All he saw was bodies. He tried reaching for the gun but the officer gently pulled it back.


    ¡°Look again lad.¡±


    Following instructions he looked. Monsters mixed with soldiers. Dirt and grass churned into bloody mud. Then he looked to the horizon. He could see it. And the ground. The horde had broken. There were still plenty of the mana beasts around but there were no more coming. George sagged against the railing. He swiped at his eyes but they were too dry for tears. There was still work to do, but it was done.

 Ch 77 - Aftermath

    ¡°Did you see this?¡± Annette was incensed. She stalked into Adam¡¯s office, where he and Martin were chatting over tea and breakfast, and through a newspaper down between them. Martin leaned over, still cupping his mug.


    ¡°A newspaper?¡± he said.


    ¡°Front page story, paragraph 18.¡±


    Adam picked it up and counted out to the place Annette indicated and began to read aloud.


    ¡°Thus we can be thankful for the hard work of the soldiers at Fort Sarken, and the many volunteers for their tireless efforts. Without them, casualties would have been catastrophic. This journalist is left with questions. Last Autumn, when the city was attacked, members of the Eternal Archive, a new school for the use of magic, were front and center in the defense against a singular foe. This week we were left on our own. Were these monsters not worth fighting? Was last fall a play for public opinion? No one can say, but we will all be watching the sect, and the newest Meristan guild, the Magician¡¯s Guild, for their actions moving forward.


    ¡°In other news, officials are asking for patience in this trying time. Anyone searching for a missing person has been asked to put a report in at Fort Sarken. Likewise for those experiencing property damage¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± Annette stopped Adam before he kept rambling through the entire paper. ¡°You see the problem?¡±


    ¡°Well we aren¡¯t a school for starters ¨C¡±


    ¡°Not the time Martin!¡± She could feel herself shrieking but couldn¡¯t stop.  ¡°Do you have any idea of the time and effort I¡¯ve put in to keep our reputation positive? This is an absolute disaster.¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re overreacting.¡±


    Annette took a deep breath, and somehow refrained from strangling Adam after his comment. She deserved a medal.


    ¡°I have another paper here somewhere,¡± he poked around on his desk until he slipped another newspaper out from under his plate. ¡°Yeah, see they said ¡®we thank the members of the Magician¡¯s Guild and the Eternal Archive for their assistance¡¯. See, nice.¡±


    ¡°That,¡± she pointed to the paper in his hand, ¡°is what commoners read.¡± She had to cut Adam¡¯s angry retort off when she continued, ¡°This, this is what the nobles, and guild heads, and rich people, and literally everyone with power, reads. I¡¯m going to talk to Sabrina about this, and I suggest you two start brainstorming options.¡±


    *******


    She stormed into the guildhall and held up the paper.


    ¡°I know, I¡¯m on it. I set up time with one of their other reporters to interview the kids who joined in the defense scheduled for tomorrow,¡± Sabrina said.


    Annette¡¯s shoulders relaxed for the first time that morning. ¡°Thank you, at least somebody takes this seriously.¡±


    The older woman gave her a shrewd look. ¡°Dear, when was the last time you had a break?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, I just had a two day break while everyone else was out defending the city.¡±


    ¡°I mean a real break. When you stop working for a while, maybe go somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take a break when the guild is in a solid position. We can hardly stop now, we still have another five months before the end of our probationary period.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, if that¡¯s what you want.


    ********


    Kurt Mansfeln needed a break. The past fortnight had been a nightmare, and he couldn¡¯t quite remember the last time he had a full night¡¯s sleep. He gave himself a slight slap across the face, he could sleep when he was dead. Refocusing on the table in front of him, he gave his notes one more read-through.


    The king entered the room and Mansfeln stood, as did the rest of the council, the Skycrests having arrived at the fort a few minutes before. Once he sat down and the rest found their seats again it was time to begin.


    ¡°Tell me,¡± the king commanded.


    ¡°Sir. Casualty reports are still being tallied. The largest impact was on the Flats, and some people have been hesitant to report missing. For the army, 75 soldiers and promising recruits fell in defense of the city, with another several hundred in various states of injury. A significant hit to our local stores of arms and ammunition, which should be rectifiable within half a year if we have the requisite funds allocated.


    ¡°Reports of violence in the city have been investigated. Few real instances have been substantiated, though there are issues we need to head off for gangs attempting to make some moves in the chaos.


    ¡°A trawler was sent out to confirm the claims made by the experts of the Magic Guild. What they pulled up was described by witnesses as ¡®nightmare-fuel¡¯. A lot of rotting monster pieces. Based on some rough estimates, they were correct that we were attacked underwater as well. If the number of monsters was evenly distributed in a circle around the city, we¡¯re lucky we even have a harbor left to use.¡±


    He went on to describe other reports the army had collected, including damaged infrastructure and the destroyed plain that had been the major battlefield. There was also, to his infinite distaste, the matter of the private guards in the wealthier districts. It wasn¡¯t illegal to hire personal security, and there had been no reported losses in the higher areas of the city. But another few hundred able bodies would have made a difference in the trenches. The king nodded in thanks but didn¡¯t ask any questions before gesturing for Madam Curson to give her own reports.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°Property damage in the city was kept relatively low, all things considered. A full survey is currently underway. The nobles of course think any funding for reconstruction should be given to them as individuals to dole out appropriately. Guild heads are making sure we look to them for certified laborers.


    ¡°Paying out the contracts for all of the volunteer defenders will be significant. Quite a few of the mercenary companies are still in the city after the winter. The cultivators, alas,  will be the most expensive per person. Both for the defensive formation and the individual¡¯s risking themselves in the defense. In what I believe to be a show of goodwill, the two that defended from the sea are not asking for more than any other individual.¡±


    Theresa was up next, despite only having had a few hours to prepare after arriving in the city the previous night. ¡°Public opinion is mixed. Most people are looking at the palace and the army favorably for having the foresight to prepare and then for defending the city. There have been some moves from the guilds to try and discredit the cultivators by claiming they were not participating. It helps their case that Laurel still isn¡¯t back.


    ¡°If I may suggest, your majesty, a statement thanking the cultivators for their contributions, among the other defenders, would likely head it off before it becomes a mess.¡±


    ¡°It has been our long held policy to avoid direct intervention in matters between guilds unless absolutely necessary. If you have a case that we¡¯ve reached that point, I am willing to listen, but I do not believe it is worth the backlash at the moment.¡±


    Theresa chose not to push at the proclamation and continued with a recap of the newspaper coverage of the last week¡¯s events. Mansfeln slapped himself again as he realized he was starting to nod off. Just another short while and then he could sleep.


    *******


    Martin leaned back in his chair and took a sip of the spirit wine. Without any vineyards producing the stuff, each bottle was a treasure. But the successful defense of the city deserved a worthy toast. Devon hummed in appreciation of the vintage, while Adam was sent into a coughing fit. But he tossed out a thumbs up so Martin was fairly certain he liked it.


    ¡°Stars, that¡¯s good. You need to find someone that likes growing grapes and teach them the infusing techniques,¡± Devon said.


    Martin snorted. ¡°I¡¯ll add it to the list, right above teaching an entire country how to defend against magic and right below building a wall so we don¡¯t have such a mess each wave.¡±


    They toasted again. ¡°Remember the Rising Fang sect in Ansuraj? I had a dream about their feasts the other day.¡± Devon moaned. ¡°High level mana beasts, perfectly paired with their own vintages. All gone now. If there¡¯s something whoever trapped us needs to answer for it¡¯s that.¡±


    ¡°I think there are some other things they are going to answer for. I¡¯m certain if Laurel meets any of them she has plans I would rather not know about¡­¡± Adam had recovered from his own sip of the wine to rejoin the conversation.


    ¡°Here, here.¡± Martin added.


    ¡°That¡¯s because those two are the same kind of blustery fighter types. I just want to focus on crafting. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯ve got some surprises waiting if any of those fuckers show up, but revenge quests are best left to vortex cultivators with more power than wisdom.¡±


    Martin¡¯s answer to Devon¡¯s little monologue was a knicknack tossed at the other man¡¯s head. ¡°You¡¯re just saying that because I won the beast wave.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fuck you jackass, you didn¡¯t win anything.¡±


    ¡°Um, who killed more of the beasts that made it past the formation? I don¡¯t think it was you, and it most assuredly wasn¡¯t the army.¡±


    ¡°Okay. I¡¯m willing to admit that technically, you killed more things in the last week. Very impressive and we¡¯re all proud of you. But life is about more than being able to rip a monster apart with your bare hands.¡±


    ¡°Debatable.¡±


    ¡°Without the formation, the city would be in tatters right now. Without me, no formation. Therefore every beast that didn¡¯t get through the formation counts on my end. You¡¯re welcome.¡±


    ¡°Please. First off, I helped with that too. Second off, does every gunmaker and carpenter in the city get to count the ones the soldiers killed? No. I still won.¡±


    Devon leaned over and nudged Adam, who had been silent during the argument. ¡°Classic vortex cultivator ¡®hit it as hard as you can¡¯ kind of attitude, am I right?¡±


    ¡°Well, to be honest I¡¯m feeling a bit inadequate on all ends now. I wasn¡¯t any help to the defense.¡±


    Martin and Devon shouted over one another in their attempt to contradict that. He hadn¡¯t realized how upset Adam was at how he had contributed to the city¡¯s defense, but Martin immediately began thinking of ways to help Adam feel more confident. Devon beat him to the explanation though, and he let it happen. Hearing from someone with a similar cultivation was probably better for the man anyway.


    ¡°You¡¯re an initiate tidal cultivator. I¡¯m assuming with no experience in combat before joining a sect.¡± The enchanter didn¡¯t bother stopping for confirmation of the fact and plowed on. ¡°The fact you can create any external effects with your cultivation after so short a time frame is impressive progress. Strong sects have different kinds of cultivators for exactly that reason, to spread the burden. If anything, you and Annette helping Laurel pull this whole place together from nothing was more of a contribution to the defense than the majority of the city made.¡±


    Martin could see Adam wasn¡¯t convinced, but the hunched over posture was gone so it was at least progress. An idea popped into his head and he let it out without hesitation.


    ¡°How about this,¡± he said. ¡°Devon and I have to sneak into Laskar to hunt down his sect''s Legacy Stone once Laurel gets back. Come with us.¡± He had the pleasure of watching Adam¡¯s expression transition from a vague guilt to shocked concern.


    ¡°Wait a minute ¨C¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s actually an excellent idea, surprising from this one,¡± Devon said. ¡°Cultivators need experience to grow. Tidal cultivators, especially crafters, sometimes forget that and stick around the sect forever. But it ends up limiting them in the end.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure leaving the country is what I meant.¡±


    ¡°It will be great!¡± Martin was on a roll now. ¡°A boy¡¯s trip! Which to be honest I deserve after Laurel up and left me to deal with the mortals for months.¡±


    They spent the rest of the evening in Martin¡¯s office, which was really more of a private lounge, finishing the bottle of spirit wine. The plans for their trip came together now that it wasn¡¯t a vague idea. He¡¯d already been anxious for Laurel to get back home, and this just added to it. Martin needed his fix of adventure and this would be the perfect way to get it. Spending more time getting Adam out of his shell would be icing on the cake.


    *******


    Cooper dropped back onto the floor in the center of the sect lounge. He could feel his whole body shaking, his muscles not believing his mind when it told them the ordeal was over. The others were surrounding him in a similar state, staring into nothing and reliving the last few days. Despite the exhaustion, he had been unable to sleep when he tried for a nap, and had made his way up here to find the others already gathered. The girls had been murmuring quietly while Eric simply stared into space. Some of the novices and other initiates that had some experience with guns had also participated in the defense, but being weaker cultivators, had helped patrol the Flats rather than joining on the front lines. Even they were looking adrift.


    Deciding it was time to be a good friend, Cooper flopped in the direction of Eric¡¯s armchair. ¡°How are you holding up?¡± Eric didn¡¯t respond. He didn¡¯t seem to even notice Cooper had spoken. Cooper slapped the younger boy¡¯s foot in an attempt to get his attention. ¡°Eric. How are you holding up?¡±


    Eric jumped and stared at Cooper a moment. ¡°Oh, um, fine I guess. I was safe inside the fort.¡±


    The dull monotone pinged Cooper¡¯s alarm bells. His grandfather had fought pirates in the south and had the same look whenever he mentioned it. ¡°Yeah but you were helping treat the wounded the entire time. That¡¯s stressful too.¡±


    ¡°Not as stressful as having an arm bitten off by a monster.¡± The venom in the response stumped Cooper and silenced the low conversations in the rest of the room. The girls stopped their own discussion and refocused. But instead of Gabrielle¡¯s brash style it was Helene who spoke up.


    ¡°It was horrible. I¡¯m afraid to sleep later. I keep telling myself we did the right thing but it''s not helping.¡±


    The admission struck something in Eric and he stood to walk over to Helene and put his hand on her shoulder. A wave of mana came out of him and Cooper watched as her whole body relaxed.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Cooper was surprised enough to actually sit up, abdominals protesting.


    Eric folded in on himself. ¡°I still don¡¯t know enough to help with anything serious with the surgeons. But when I was helping I found a way to use mana to relax people¡¯s bodies.¡±


    ¡°Eric, that¡¯s amazing,¡± Cooper said.


    ¡°Not that amazing. Not as good as healing a claw or bite wound. Laurel specializes in fighting with lightning and swords, and she can still heal a cut.¡±


    Before Cooper could assuage the guilt the boy was clearly feeling, Gabrielle blew a loud raspberry. The entire room startled. Cooper felt a giggle bubbling up and out of his throat before he slapped his hand across his mouth. All of a sudden the whole room was roaring with laughter. He laughed so hard he cried, then kept crying until the laughter came back around. Eventually everyone calmed back down, only the occasional giggle echoing out between the gasping breaths. Gabrielle was not done, and she stood in the center of the room, looking out over the rest of the former combatants.


    ¡°Look. Martin and Laurel, and Devon I guess, they¡¯re all super old. They had decades to go on adventures and learn how to fight or heal or do whatever it is they do. You have to stop comparing yourselves to them. They¡¯re goals, not peers. We successfully defended the city. That¡¯s fucking amazing. Eric learned an external healing technique. That¡¯s amazing too. Right now it''s time to celebrate. And then we work hard, and get stronger so that the next time a beast wave comes we can do even more.¡±

 Ch 78 - Better Late Than Never

    The area outside Verilia was devastated. Laurel cursed in every language she knew as the unmistakable remnants of a beast wave spread out below the planes as they approached the landing strips. It was months too early for the next one but life didn¡¯t always follow careful calculations. The roiling in her gut was kept in check by the fact that the city itself seemed intact, even with the churned up surroundings. She could make out wooden structures and uniformed soldiers swarming through a labyrinth of trenches, which calmed her further. The city had had some level of warning if they had time to prepare. The realization was enough to tamp down the urge to jump out of the plane and go to the sect house directly. She did flare her mana enough to give Martin a head¡¯s up that they¡¯d returned, but without an active crisis she would do the polite-sectmaster routine and wait to report in at Fort Sarken before heading home.


    After checking in with the officers on duty, and committing to a much longer debriefing the following day, Laurel hailed a cab for her, Rebecca, and Leander to make their way home. They were barely over the threshold when something large tackled her to the ground. A well-aimed gust of wind and her own leverage flipped Martin off onto his back as the rest of the sect stampeded into the entryway. Shouting of so many voices made listening to anything impossible, so Laurel  basked in the hugs and the joy of her family welcoming them home. She lingered with Adam and Annette, who both looked far too haggard for cultivators of their level. When they all migrated upstairs, she held Martin back. It wasn¡¯t just Adam and Annette looking tired. The members had progressed well, several of them at the initiate level, and all were acting jumpy. At least three had flinched when the door slammed closed.


    ¡°How bad was it?¡± she murmured the question quietly enough that only Martin could hear.


    ¡°Horde wave. Would have been easy if the city had traditional defenses. None of ours died. Everyone¡¯s still a bit on edge though.¡±


    ¡°Having everyone home will help, I hope. The kids could use some downtime themselves. More fights than I was expecting and an inverted Core.¡± They entered the lounge to find everyone dragging around the couches and chairs to a rough semicircle in the center. It had the speed of a practiced ritual and Laurel couldn¡¯t help but smile at the signs of a true sect maturing around her, rather than a collection of individuals held together by circumstance and nothing more.


    Leander and Rebecca were already holding court, while some of the newer initiates Laurel wasn¡¯t as familiar with were brewing tea on the side. Completing the perfect reception, Esther rolled in a cart full of pastries and snacks. Laurel loaded up a plate and made her way to the center.


    ¡°A lot¡¯s gone on both here and on our adventure. But first things first, we have presents!¡± Laurel proceeded to empty her storage of the bits and bobs they had picked up on their tour. Besides, of course, the plants that Leander had faithfully carted home. The orchid went to Nicholas Mercer, their gardener and all around handyman, while the as yet unidentified mana-infused plant from the Caer¡¯Listar valley was presented to Esther with all due pomp. Martin got a painting from Jaranda, while Adam was easily appeased with a few copies of Oro¡¯s clan¡¯s personal histories. She had been a bit concerned about giving the man more work as a gift, but he had to be forcibly kept in the group instead of running off to begin reading. He had certainly liked it more than the ink sac she presented from the octopus she fought beneath the ocean. Annette recieved a bolt of painstakingly embroidered fabric, finer than what most nobles would wear. Along with an invitation from Oro to meditate in the dungeon in Araxis if she still wanted to pursue a spatial affinity.


    The others mostly ended up with extra cultivation resources, books, or interesting bits they had picked up from wherever they ended up. Carved hairpins or semi-precious jewelry. Mana-infused rocks or bits and pieces of coral. Perfume and chocolate and piles and piles of books, reference material and fiction and poetry from around the world. When everyone had calmed down Laurel sat back and let Rebecca and Leander step forward to describe the trip. Everyone was enthralled except Cooper and Eric, who were sitting in the back and holding a side conversation. When a twist of mana brought their words to her ears it took everything she had to maintain a straight face. Everyone forgot to bring something back. Once.


    ********


    The sect officers retired to Martin¡¯s private office after a while, leaving the main lounge for the younger members to continue their reunion. Calls of the ¡°grown-ups going to bed early¡± only made her cringe slightly in remembering what teenagers and young adults were like when not under extreme stress. T


    he room was transformed since Laurel had left. A few paintings lined the walls, mostly abstract works in bold colors, and one meticulous landscape of Verilia itself. The plain but functional furniture Annette had commissioned was still present, but with a few more ornate pieces that told her Martin was still crafting his sanctuary. They settled in with a bottle of Meristan wine and the remainders of the snack tray.


    ¡°Tell me,¡± Laurel said.  ¡°I saw enough to make some guesses but it seems like we¡¯re barely holding together.¡±


    The other three exchanged glances, but it was Annette who responded. ¡°We have partnered with other local cultivators to create a new guild, to further leverage our time and resources to greatest effect.¡± Laurel had known the woman long enough to recognize the perfect posture and diction as signs of stress. ¡°That effort was partially interrupted by a beast wave in the city.


    ¡°Recruitment and training has stabilized. We now have three dozen members, including those in this room, the majority of which are at the novice or initiate stage.


    ¡°Oh, make that 37. After George helped out during the wave I think he should get a formal invite.¡±


    Nothing showed Annette''s growing experience dealing with Martin more than the utter lack of reaction at the interruption. ¡°The initiates have begun crafting small household items, the profits from which are nearly, but not yet quite enough to cover the sect¡¯s expenses. This is in part due to our assistance in the establishment of the guild.¡±


    ¡°Relationships with the city and palace representatives are mostly positive. Our continued assistance in defending the city has played a large role in continued goodwill.


    ¡°Relationships with other guilds have been more tumultuous in the weeks since we have officially signed onto the Magic Guild, due to the restrictions and protections for inter-guild dealings. The Scholars and some of the Merchants are still actively lobbying against us.¡± Annette¡¯s report continued without pause for the better part of an hour and the rest of the wine.


    Laurel could be nothing but proud of everything Annette described. Finding hidden realms, recruiting independent cultivators as allies, battling for the safety of the city. Even during her own travels, she¡¯d been constantly worried about the rest of the sect. It had been a far cry from when she would galavant around the world with her friends for years at a time, searching for treasure or cultivation resources. But the warm feeling in her chest that had started from when the planes landed told her she might be on the right track after all.


    ¡°So if Annette was doing all that, what have you two layabouts been up to for half a year?¡±


    That broke any remaining formality. Even Annette let out a small snort. They spent another hour listening to Laurel¡¯s slightly less overblown account of her adventures. News of their new allies to the south and east was met with predictable reactions. Curiosity from Martin, worry and searching for advantage from Annette, and hyper focus on the history from Adam. It was the discussion of the fight in Caer¡¯Listar that caused the most concern.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°So these people are still around.¡± Martin¡¯s normal smiles dropped and the hardened warrior flashed out for a moment.


    *******


    Leander dutifully ate his oatmeal. The dried persimmons mixed in added just enough sweetness. Some of the newer novices had grumbled a bit about not liking oatmeal days but he couldn¡¯t understand why. Any day that started with breakfast at all was a good one in his books. He snuck a glance at where some of his sectmates were sitting across and slightly further towards the head of the table from him and Rebecca. The dark-haired girl, Gabrielle, turned to meet his eyes and he hastily looked back down. Beside him, he could feel Rebecca sit up straighter, and even turn so she was fully facing the others. Leander kept his head down. It hadn¡¯t been long enough for him to forget the novelty of a guaranteed breakfast and he wasn¡¯t missing it for anything.


    Tension continued to ramp up and conversation dwindled as breakfast came to a close. Not entirely clear on the reason, he followed everyone to their outdoor training area for morning combat lessons and cultivation practice. They all tramped over to where Martin was standing and he led them through a complex series of slow fighting forms. A cultivator had to be prepared, so Leander had been practicing each morning on their trip. But having the whole group go through them together was sort of nice. He broke them into smaller groups after they finished for light sparring. As he made to walk over to Rebecca, Leander found himself standing across from Cooper instead, after some gentle redirection by Martin. They hadn¡¯t gotten a chance to know each other that well yet so all Leander could remember was that Cooper¡¯s family was rich, and he came to the sect after studying at the university.


    They tested each other with some light blows to start. Just making sure the other was paying attention. The intensity increased as they went. Leander had plenty of recent experience to draw from and started darting in under Cooper¡¯s guard. He¡¯d been training for months, he could do this. The taller man in turn worked to keep him at bay. Their movements got faster and faster. Leander began infusing his limbs with mana for bursts of speed and power. His senses told him Cooper was doing the same. Faster and faster, with harder strikes, until a scream tore across the field.


    ¡°You did that on purpose.¡± Gabrielle was screeching at Rebecca.


    ¡°We¡¯re fighting, what do you expect?¡± Rebecca said. The young woman¡¯s face was slowly turning red in a way Leander realized meant trouble. He sidled over to where Flint was sitting and let the monkey scamper up onto his shoulders.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you don¡¯t watch what you¡¯re doing!¡±


    Leander crept further to the side and saw Gabrielle holding her elbow at an awkward angle. Rebecca¡¯s staff was in her hand and looking around he realized many of the others had started using weapons.


    He looked to Martin, expecting their combat instructor to intervene in some way. Instead he watched as Martin turned to Laurel and began a side conversation. Laurel had a hand in front of her mouth and he could see the corners of her lips tipped up in a smile. Martin¡¯s lips were pressed together like he was holding something in.


    The girls were still sniping back and forth, the comments getting further from their sparring and into personal territory. He looked around frantically for a way to stop the argument, but almost everyone was standing around watching.


    ¡°And it¡¯s no wonder you have such bad aim. While you were off getting a new pet, the rest of us were doing actual work and defending the city.¡±


    Wait a minute, they weren¡¯t just looking for pets. They fought enemy cultivators! They found treasures to defend the city! They saved the villagers! They even survived the dungeon! Cultivators were supposed to go out in the world and challenge themselves and that¡¯s exactly what they¡¯d done. All the others had to do was wander around and talk to people, then follow instructions. With guns! He had to fight off dangerous spirit beasts with a dagger. Gabrielle was out of line.


    ¡°If you¡¯re so good at this, why weren¡¯t you dodging better? Any idiot can shoot a gun but actual fighting takes more finesse.¡±


    ¡°Any idiot can wave a stick around too! Maybe if you were better at it, you wouldn¡¯t have lost half your hand!¡±


    He didn¡¯t realize he was moving towards them until hands clamped down on his shoulders. He turned around to see Adam shaking his head. Mana was swirling around the girls and Leander was sure he was about to see blood. Before they could launch themselves at each other, all the mana that was surging came to a halt. The entire world felt like it was holding its breath. Laurel appeared between the two girls, no one having noticed her move. Gusts of wind forced them both back.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough. Everyone¡¯s going to walk away and cool down. After that, if you need to fight, you do so in a formal challenge, according to the sect charter you both swore to uphold. I¡¯m not going to micromanage your relationships. But you will figure out a way to coexist.¡±


    Laurel¡¯s announcement sent them all off in different directions. Leander trotted off after Rebecca, Flint clinging to his back. They caught up to her when she was already half a kilometer towards the plains outside of the city.


    She was storming through the wreckage of the battle that was slowly being cleaned up. Teams of soldiers filled in trenches and broke down the temporary towers as they walked by. Pillars had apparently ringed the city acting as a partial shield, but they had crumbled once the magic gave out. Leander couldn¡¯t quite understand what had just happened. But he could see his friend was upset. He was upset. They had been doing important work for the sect but the others didn¡¯t seem to agree. Even Laurel told them the dangers they faced were more than normal cultivators who¡¯d just opened their channels would be expected to deal with. They walked in silence until they were past the trenches.


    ¡°That bitch!¡±


    The exclamation caused Leander to jump. Flint let out some concerned hooting noises and clung harder to his shoulders.


    ¡°How dare she. Just, ugh.¡±


    Leander listened as she ranted about arrogant idiots who were barely members of the sect compared to them. After a quarter hour she reached some sort of stopping point and sat on a nearby rock. Flint scampered across to Rebecca¡¯s lap. The little monkey seemed to get smarter every time Leander looked. He could definitely tell Rebecca needed comforting. Leander knew how upset she was by her injury. Having it thrown back in her face was enough to have him ready to fight, let alone her.


    Another bout of silence, then Rebecca seemed to change tack. ¡°You know, Laurel said we could do formal challenges. Have you read that part of the sect regulations?¡±


    Leander shook his head. True cultivators were less concerned with that type of infighting when they could protect the sect as a whole. On the other hand, true cultivators didn¡¯t let people hurt their friends. Would the sect even allow challenges if they weren¡¯t a good way to deal with these things? Laurel had been telling them over the past months that conflict was often the best way for cultivators to grow. Challenging the others would show them how far Leander and Rebecca had grown, out in the world.


    *********


    George watched the two children storm off while everyone else either spread out or made their way back into the sect house. He trailed at the back of the group, as he usually did. It had only been a few weeks since the attack on the city, when Martin decided he could join the sect for real. The others still looked at him sideways when they thought he wouldn¡¯t notice. It was fine, he didn¡¯t really blame them. Rumors of conflict with Laskar had never been more common, and they stoked the flames of suspicion everywhere he went. Being a former member of their secret magic police didn¡¯t endear him to the rest of the sect. He was a few years older than most of the newer members and a few years (or quite a bit more than a few years) younger than the officers. At least he wasn¡¯t part of whatever spat the teeneagers had started.


    He was last into the foyer and wasn¡¯t paying attention when something slammed him into the wall, and a hand gripped his throat and began to squeeze. He tried to fight but it was like all the air in the world was holding him in place. Black spots started closing in from the corners of his eyes.


    ¡°L, that¡¯s enough.¡±


    The hand around his throat loosened enough for a shaky breath, but he still couldn¡¯t move his limbs. His eyes refocused and he saw Laurel, their sectmaster, the woman who could fight off city-destroying monsters, staring at him with wild eyes.


    ¡°Martin tells me you¡¯re reformed, that you ran away from Laskar because of what they were doing to the magic users there.


    ¡°The Eternal Archive doesn¡¯t punish members for their pasts. When they¡¯ve proven themselves enough to join the sect, we don¡¯t look back. But how am I supposed to do that when a member of the organization that killed one of my students is standing in front of me?¡±


    The terror that gripped his body was absolute. He was about to die.  Stars above, he¡¯d seen eyes like that before. She could crush his throat and watch him suffocate without any effort at all. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, he¡¯d face death as it came.


    Without warning the pressure is gone. He took deep, gasping breaths as he slid down to the floor. Laurel and Martin had a conversation in speaking glances. Martin was remarkably unconcerned, leaning against the wall and munching on an apple.


    ¡°Ahem.¡±


    He looked back up at Laurel, who was once again watching him with unblinking focus. How did someone that small loom so effectively?


    ¡°I apologize, George, that was unpardonable of me. I lost someone to the magehunters and that pain is closer to the surface than I realized. That does not give me the right to lash out at you. I hope you will allow me to make amends.¡±


    George was feeling too many things at once. Relief after such a spike in fear was making his head swim. At the same time, he could remember all too well the disgust he felt for his actions, and the danger he was in if he hadn¡¯t followed orders. It was all he could do to mumble an assent. Laurel returned it with a deep bow, and then marched out of the room and deeper into the sect.


    ¡°You know,¡± Martin started and George flinched, having forgotten he was still in the room, ¡°I think that went pretty well all things considered.¡±


    George let his head fall back against the wall. This was a good place to spend the rest of the day.

 Ch 79 - To the Victor Go the Spoils

    The sewer entrance stared impassively at Laurel in the basement of one of the official city government buildings. The slightly damp hallway was forgettable except for the stench seeping out from the stone door. The mortals probably didn¡¯t notice but to the finely tuned senses of a master cultivator, this was torture. As it was, everything she was wearing would need to be burned later. She thought for a few minutes and then focused on the mana flowing in her head. It wasn¡¯t something she¡¯d ever mastered before, or even spent much time practicing but the last few years had seen her cultivation progress in leaps and bounds. With the lightest touch she could manage, air mana began swirling around her nose and mouth in an intricate pattern. The slight breeze filtered out enough of the stench that she no longer felt like vomiting. The working was subtle enough that gusts of wind weren¡¯t going to be barreling down the tunnels either.


    With one last fortifying breath of the mostly clean air, she pushed open the door, stepped inside, and started down a series of steps carved into the stone. The city sewers were a modern marvel of engineering. Or so Adam had told her. The foresight of the city founders to start them, along with the careful expansion over the centuries was one of the reasons the city had been able to grow as large as it had. She could appreciate that any other day when she wasn¡¯t standing inside them. All she could think about was placing the natural treasure and then getting back out, and having a long, scalding hot shower.


    Placing the natural treasures and anchoring the ambient mana was a finicky process. They had to be at the right intersection of the local mana matrix and the physical world to have the best effect. Too far off in either and they would end up with something at best ineffective, and at worst, an explosive failure. All of which meant she had to trek around the city to the best location for each addition to the mana network. Laurel had decided to start with the least dangerous and work her way up. A decision she was second guessing as it brought her deeper into the sewers.


    A water attuned treasure would be a boon to a city this size. Not glamorous, but it would lessen the burden on the pumps that brought seawater up to the higher city districts. The purifying aspects would limit the impact on the environment and prevent some of the sicknesses that might crop up in such a densely populated area. After years of careful tending, the effects would extend to the harbor as well.


    With her connection to the City Core and the understanding of the mana infrastructure that brought, Laurel continued her trek, confident in the route even without a map. A small lip of stone kept her out of the muck. She chose not to consider what residue might be splashing onto her boots and clothes as she navigated her way through the tunnels, and she gave thanks for being short enough to walk through without accidentally skimming the roof or sides. The occasional footprint or stray bit of rubbish pointed to more traffic than she might have expected down here. Not everyone was put off by the smell, it would seem.


    Martin, the bastard, had absolutely refused to place any of the treasures. The rest of the sect had all mysteriously had chores, guild missions or important meetings to attend to when she announced her first location. Leander had looked like he was willing to make the sacrifice, but Rebecca had dragged the boy away for her own plans.


    That was an aspect of running a sect she had no idea about. Without a doubt, she and her friends had been difficult to wrangle for their elders. They caused more than their fair share of mayhem and drama. But that was so long ago she had almost forgotten what it was like to be living the extreme highs and lows of adolescence and early adulthood. Now it was her job to keep young people with newfound magic powers from doing irreparable harm to one another.


    It was funny, she could admit that. Almost a mirror of an argument she¡¯d had with Imelda when they were at the same age and there was still a chip on her shoulder for being born to mortal parents. Hopefully they were able to work out any aggression with a formal challenge. When Laurel was young they told her challenges were about testing skills and proving themselves. That they were built into the foundation of the sect to keep cultivators pushing themselves forward. The last few days had convinced her the founders instituted them to keep conflict amongst the younger members contained and predictable.


    Her musings had taken her all the way to the correct location. An otherwise unremarkable intersection of larger tunnels, grime-coated and full of a shallow, slow-moving sewage, this was the ideal place to anchor a water treasure, according to the Core. She let her focus drift and brought her spiritual senses to the front of her mind. Mana flows lit up, twining through the air and stone, and even into the sewage. Several of the flows merged together in the center of the tunnel and that was her aim. Grimacing, Laurel forced herself to step into the muck and walk to the center. The delicate nature of natural treasures meant she couldn¡¯t float the things into place with air mana. She gagged as the sludge flowed around her ankles, thanking the stars above for high boots with good waterproofing.


    She sank further into the connection with the Core, until the ephemeral and the physical held equal weight to her mind¡¯s eye. Then she pulled out the Tear of Kasis. It had been growing out of the top of a waterfall on the Gavroz continent, where the mountains met the jungle. It was high enough that she¡¯d had to fly up to get it, using air mana to split the water to flow around her rather than pushing her off the cliff. The Tear would be perfect for this. It was a water attuned treasure with mana that held a subtle ¡®flowing¡¯ flavor. It was a common one to seek out for water cultivators that focused on combat, improving their kinetic control if cycled correctly. She felt slightly bad about not being able to keep it for Helene, but water treasures were common and anchoring the mana infrastructure for the city was becoming more and more urgent. And the agreement with the king meant most of their loot needed to be spent strengthening the city and country as a whole. The hours she¡¯d spent in talks with the Royal Council to decide their uses was a testament to that. It would be better for Helene to work for it anyway.


    A thread of mana reached out from Laurel and connected with the anchor point. When she first started cultivating the City Core, this would have been impossible. But now she was able to pull control of the golden streams and bend them with an effort of will. She held up the jade box containing the Tear and opened it. The mana caught up the natural treasure. It floated, suspended by the force of the mana flowing through it and Laurel¡¯s focus. With a thought, it slowly sank until it anchored itself to the rock below. As the last step, she imbued the flows around the Tear with an illusion and a hint of lightning as an unpleasant surprise for anyone stupid enough to try and sabotage her city.


    Once it was stable, Laurel released her hold on the ambient mana. Instantly she could see the change. A small but steady stream of mana was being transmuted to water via the treasure. The area around it slowly cleared of muck as well. With everything in order Laurel hurried to retrace her steps and back out into the building and onto the street. Judging from the looks the smartly dressed locals were throwing at her, a trip back to the sect to change was needed before any other upgrades to the city.


    *********


    The weeks spent on the quality of life or logistic improvements had been uneventful. She was hesitant to consider a trip to the sewers a highlight, but it was the most notable location she¡¯d ended up. Otherwise she had been on a tour of parks, factories, and other mundane areas that ended up being perfect locations for some of the natural treasures. Another set had been put aside for Lanport. Theresa would join her when she set up the defensive array to get an understanding of the process. One air treasure had also been gifted to George in apology for her overreaction on seeing him join the sect. It would help him nudge projectiles at a distance, perfect for his style.


    But first, there was one more improvement to make. It had taken a full day of arguments amongst the Royal Council before the end use was decided. Laurel had spent the time referencing old manuals and communing with the City Core to try and list out every possibility. Gravity-attuned treasures were rare, and correspondingly potent. The Black Hole Obsidian they had found in the floating city had entire books dedicated to the theoretical possibilities, though the rarity was so high that few  of those theories had ever been put into practice. It could have been used to fully control flight within the city. There were ways to make it into a potent construct that slowed all attackers, or any hostile projectiles. With enough effort they could have created their own floating island.


    All those options had been deftly turned aside by Madam Curson¡¯s arguments. When it came down to it, one option was going to be visible, help the mortal population, increase defensive capabilities and put some money back in the treasury that the recent beast wave had depleted.


    Laurel strolled through the palace gates with a wave to the guards. They¡¯d been told to expect her, but the amount of traffic coming through would have made it a nonissue anyways. Messengers sprinted back and forth, deliveries were being offloaded and a few nobles even loitered around, waiting for something worth gossiping about to happen. She took it in with a neutral expression, though inside she was riveted. Most of her visits had been made in the early morning, or had lasted well into the evening. The mortal bustle still fascinated her, more than a year after being forced to adapt to such bureaucracy. Laurel dodged the mortals and made her way to the administrative wing of the palace. There she was actually stopped and asked for identification, after which she was promptly brought to a private courtyard. Instead of loitering nobles and busy workers, there were guards standing at attention and an older woman looking at a page on a clipboard, checking something off a list. A wooden vehicle was lying on the ground next to the woman, with a young man standing to the other side and scratching his beard. It would have resembled a barge with railings wrapped around  if it wasn¡¯t firmly on dry land.


    ¡°Good morning. I believe our preparations are ready beyond a few final clarifications.¡± Madam Curson was not one to beat around the bush. ¡°Your estimation was that there would be a limit on the number of routes we could set up. Have you confirmed what that limit is?¡±


    ¡°A good morning to you as well. And yes. It turns out it¡¯s not so much the number of routes as the number we can set up at one time. We can set up one today, and then another next month when the Obsidian has time to rejuvenate, for lack of a better term. Once everything is in place today we can also slowly tweak the routes, though that will take mana as well.¡±


    ¡°And you can certify the safety?¡±


    ¡°I mean, if someone does something foolish I can¡¯t certify they won¡¯t hurt themselves. But it should be safer than any of the other methods of getting around the city.¡±


    ¡°Perfect. And the contract?¡±


    ¡°Signed and guild approved.¡± Laurel produced the packet of documents from her storage tattoo. It was practically a book, but the language had to be precise to make sure the guild and the sect were compensated fairly. At least Annette assured her it was all important and Laurel chose to accept that fact.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Madam Curson reviewed the entire document and gave a sharp nod. ¡°Proceed.¡±


    Laurel wandered over to the corner of the courtyard. The palace location had taken mana into account. The large mana flow that they were anchoring with the Obsidian was off-center and went through the walls. This courtyard was the best option they had to actually access it but it was an awkward place if anyone was expecting a show.


    It took only the barest of touches to set the natural treasure into the mana flow. Her first experience with the Tear of Kasis had required her own willpower to force the mana flows to reroute through the treasure. The Obsidian grabbed hold of the local mana to start pulling it in on its own. Laurel had to react quickly to exert her own will. Without input, the natural treasure would drink in power until it slowly started aspecting the local mana. Then, as Reynard had feared, they would end up with a city where it was hard to breathe. Instead, Laurel sank into the ambient mana and ripped some out of the Obsidian. It would be an anchor, not a vessel. She struggled with the forces swirling around her until, with a flare, they settled firmly into place.


    Laurel opened her eyes to darkness. A heartbeat later she realized the sun had set and she must have been communing with the natural treasure for hours. She swayed on her feet and stumbled to a chair set out for her. Madam Curson was calmly working at a desk that had been set up, an oil lantern providing enough light for paperwork.


    ¡°That was more intense than I expected,¡± Laurel said. Normal physical exhaustion wasn¡¯t something she regretted leaving behind on her cultivation journey, having it come back was entirely unwelcome. Curson must have made some signal because an aide arrived next to Laurel with a small table and a tray of food, another appearing behind him with a flagon and goblet. It paid to be working in the palace and not the sewers. Laurel set to devouring the roast chicken and vegetables in front of her. While she tore at the food like a wild animal, Curson refocused on the task at hand.


    ¡°According to your notes, the next step is to work on the barge. Will that be possible this evening or should we leave you to have a moment with the chicken?¡±


    Laurel grunted in response and swallowed her current mouthful, washing it down with the delightfully crisp ale. ¡°Give me a few and we¡¯ll be good to go. And who makes this beer?¡± She said the last to the aides still standing a discreet distance away. They stammered a reply which she tried to remember for later orders to the sect house. Once the plate was clear Laurel stood and stretched out. The rest and food had been more than enough rejuvenation for the next phase of the plan.


    Wandering over to the barge she nudged awake the sleeping driver. Lanterns had been set atop several poles to let the mortals see what was going on, giving the whole scene a cozy glow. Madam Curson joined her. One of the ever-present aides set out yet another table in front of the women and Curson herself produced an intricately detailed map of the city.


    ¡°We¡¯ve agreed on this route,¡± she said while tracing the line picked out in silver ink on the map. ¡°From the port up through the major merchant districts. A building has been set aside here for evening storage. Do you need anything else?¡±


    ¡°Nope! Let¡¯s do it.¡± With that, Laurel reached back out to the Obsidian. The process was a breeze, comparatively, now that the treasure was stable, and she directed a tendril of mana from the obsidian into the barge. The wood and metal shuddered as it was forced to absorb the aspected mana. It groaned and creaked, threatening to rip apart. At the same time she siphoned mana back out of the barge and into the route Madam Curson had traced out, sending it spiraling through the city. The noise crescendoed until it all cut out, falling off a cliff into a sudden silence. Smooth as could be, the barge rose half a meter into the air. Golden runes carved themselves into the front of their new transport method. Even a mortal would be able to operate it, though with less speed or responsiveness than a cultivator would.


    Laurel was practically giddy. She had mostly adapted to Verilia, with the fast pace, the guilds, the steam engines and technology. But this moment still stopped her in her tracks. No cities from her own time had anywhere near enough population to support mortal flight. An extremely skilled enchanter might have managed it if they tried. Laurel was not an extremely skilled enchanter. Laurel was not really any kind of enchanter at all. She could follow simple directions and scripts but had lacked both the patience and the passion for crafting growing up. Now she made a wonder in an evening.


    ¡°Who¡¯s up for a ride?¡± She turned to the others with a delighted grin. The guards took an involuntary step back. The aides¡¯ faces drained of all color. The man selected to be the driver shook himself back awake.


    Madam Curson put her paperwork into a neat pile and placed it in a drawer within the desk. ¡°I think that would be for the best.¡± The older woman calmly stepped up using the platform affixed to the rear of the barge.


    Laurel raised her eyebrows in silent question.


    ¡°What, you think I sat around all day watching and didn''t intend to be on the maiden voyage? Absolutely not. Let¡¯s get moving.¡±


    That was enough to spur the others out of their cowardice and they all piled in. Laurel began instructing the pilot-to-be on what each rune did while the barge floated towards the route. Having already anchored it, the barge would always try to return to the same path if left to drift. They carefully guided the barge out of the side gate near their courtyard and slowly made their way to the merchant district and the storage shed. Once they left the palace behind, Laurel encouraged their height to increase, along with the speed. They soared over the rooftops at night. Twinkling candles and lantern-light puddled on street corners and spilled out of restaurants. Laughter and shouting filled the streets, while silence reigned in the sky.


    Madam Curson was not one to let such a journey go to waste. ¡°Now, let¡¯s discuss fees.¡±


    Laurel turned and listened to the councilor reiterate what had already been agreed upon. The city would charge a small fee for anyone using the barges to transport anything that can¡¯t be held in arms. Individuals would be allowed to ride when there was space for no charge. A portion of the proceeds would be returned to the sect, and a portion of that would then go to the guild.  Laurel listened while making occasional noises of agreement. All of this had been negotiated before they put any natural treasures in place but Meristans did love their administrative displays. She was saved when it was time to instruct the pilot on how to land and steer into the storage shed, a stout stone building flanked with city guards standing at attention. A carriage was at attention and once every door had been locked and double checked, the others were off back to the palace while Laurel was able to head home.


    ********


    A full month had passed since the rest of the natural treasures had been anchored. The palace had forced a delay to take out newspaper ads and send old-fashioned criers to the less-literate districts. Anything they thought would allay panic when the defensive array went into place. It also gave opponents the chance to rant about magical dangers and untested experiments in their own articles. With the King making announcements and speeches supporting the effort, and calling back to the brave defenders in the last beast wave, most of the naysayers were silenced. Though Annette in particular was not willing to forget and had spent days strategizing tucked away with Sabrina.


    For her own part, Laurel was happy for the time to prepare. This would require more of her than any other part of cultivating the City Core so far. She stood atop the sect house, at the peak of the dome. Martin stood next to her, holding a drink Esther had started making from preserved fruit, spiritual mint and carbonated water. Laurel couldn¡¯t stand the stuff but Martin had taken one sip and sworn himself to Esther forever. The kids were mad about it, with the mint giving a subtle soothing effect after cultivation practice.


    From their perch, they could see a street party beginning to form in a nearby empty lot. Vendors were frying dough behind temporary stalls, and a tavern tent was in the process of setting up, kegs stacked on pallets behind a raw-plank bar. The scene was repeated around the city. Far from panicking, when the populace was informed of the impending magic show, it had become an impromptu holiday. Laurel thought she saw Theresa Skycrest in that bit of management but hadn¡¯t asked for confirmation. Those in the surrounding towns had flooded into the city. Some had even made the trek from far-flung cities.


    They continued watching in companionable silence. Most of the dozen treasures needed for the defense were already in place, Laurel having carefully anchored them over the preceding week. Once the full array was activated, the city would have the option to activate defenses against both physical attack and magical effects. Not enough on its own to block something like the leviathan, but the smaller beasts in a horde wave would be mostly kept out. A permanent version of the hasty ward Martin and Devon had cobbled together. One final piece was remaining, a Sea Breeze. The air-attuned treasure that would float above the sect house. The expedition had happened upon it while flying over a beach in the Somorin Archipelago. Not rare or exceedingly valuable, as these things went, but with enough flexibility to center the city defenses around. Martin was currently letting the diaphanous treasure float a few feet away and then snatching it back out of the air.


    ¡°This would be so much easier if they¡¯d agreed to build out walls,¡± Martin spoke up with a complaint he¡¯d been voicing since Laurel first started negotiating. ¡°Honestly L, if they built something across from just past the Fort to the cliffs, we¡¯d be able to laugh off a beast wave like the last one.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t disagree. But they¡¯re stuck on threats like modern warships, they don¡¯t want to spend the money  to bring the stone in, even if we helped with the construction. And it would make them look weak to Laskar and other countries.¡±


    Martin grunted at the familiar argument. ¡°Whatever. I¡¯m right. Let¡¯s get this started.¡±


    Laurel looked up and judged Martin¡¯s timekeeping was spot-on and it was about noon, the agreed upon start time. Songs had started up in the fair areas. Time to put on a show.


    One final time, she reached into the mana matrix around the city, reveling in the cumulation of months of effort. Instead of barely controlled swirling chaos, directed by sheer force of will, the mana was placid. A river flowing calmly through its channels, rather than a raging torrent flooding over the edge. She reached out to the other treasures waiting to be linked to the Sea Breeze. Earth treasures they¡¯d buried or placed in tunnels below the city, ocean treasures deep beneath the harbor, ice treasures to sap energy from enemy attacks, and a solar treasure for a deep well of power. Already the connections were a complex web. In her spiritual senses she saw thin lines of golden light, mana flowing between the different anchor points, strengthening and becoming infused with a feeling of protection. Carefully, she pulled a tendril off of each.


    It stretched her impressive focus to hold them all separate. Without letting any of the streams merge, she pulled them towards the air treasure in her hand. At the same time, her will reached out to the mana flows beneath the sect house, where the Core itself was anchored, and pulled upwards. The runes on the dome began to glow and mana streamed through. Dimly she could hear shouting, but she dismissed it. The only way out was through. Sweat dripped down her back.


    The unanchored mana began to fight her. Having been pulled from the more stable flows, it sought to spread out or return to its previous state. Laurel dredged up more willpower from deep within.


    For a moment she flashed back to her life before. A thriving sect of warriors and scholars, traveling the world for adventure, and her closest friends. Imelda, Farin, and Martin, coming up with ridiculous schemes and then somehow seeing them through. She had let go of the hope of seeing the others again.


    Then she was in the present, watching Borin¡¯s pyre burn through the night. Adam and Annette, joking and complaining but taking a risk to help her revive the sect. The students who¡¯d trusted Laurel to lead them to something incredible, and to keep them safe on the journey. A city and a country who¡¯d given them a place to grow.


    With a cry, she wrenched every strand of mana she was holding. As one, they all linked into the Sea Breeze. A spiritual click, and the strain cut out like it had been her imagination the whole time. The array was anchored.


    Laurel slumped down and sat on top of the dome. Through her still-closed eyes she could feel the golden glow dimming to its normal state. Martin settled beside her. She forced her eyes open, she was exhausted, but there was no chance she would miss what happened next.


    It started slowly. Most of the revelers were too far away to notice. Around the edge of what the Core defined as the city, a golden glow blossomed out of the earth. At first it was just a ring. Then the gold began to expand. A wall of shining mana stretched up. At first it was straight up and down. A replacement for the wall Martin bemoaned the lack of. Then it ever so slightly curved inwards. Martin and Laurel¡¯s spiritual perception was strong enough to watch the same progress happening in a mirror image, underground and underwater. At several dozen meters, the partiers could see the glow at any distance within the city. They could hear cheers from the myriad fairgrounds, from the nearby Flats to the University on top  of the hill, and every walk of life in between.


    Laurel leaned back on her hands to watch as the mana closed in a dome over the city over the course of half an hour. In the moment when the mana sealed together, the entire shield brightened. For the mortals they would need to look away; Laurel and Martin watched the whole thing. The flare lasted only a moment, and the dome faded out of sight. It was still there though. Her spirit felt it as a blazing barrier, with a clear warning to anyone attempting to transgress against the city.


    ¡°We¡¯ve done it,¡± Martin said. ¡°I give you a Town!¡±


    Laurel cackled. They had indeed created a Town in the classical sense, having anchored the local mana flows into something useful and safe for most cultivators. In another time, this would be the accomplishment of a fledgling sect and a few thousand souls. Not over a million, though the sect could still be called fledgling. They took the rest of the day to relax together and reminisce about absent friends. Something they avoided all too often.


    ¡°They¡¯d be proud of us, L,¡± Martin said. ¡°No one would have expected you and I to create something like this.¡±


    ¡°I hope you¡¯re right.¡±

 Ch 80 - Two Steps Ahead

    ¡°They were found by our contacts in Oudigar while attempting to book passage. We do not believe they intended to return home, despite vows to the contrary.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Lawrence said. ¡°And what did they have to say for their failure, if they weren¡¯t running?¡±


    ¡°They were confronted by Meristan mages while on their journey. Corvin fell in the battle and they were left stranded in the wilderness. After more intensive questioning, we determined they are likely telling the truth.¡±


    ¡°Very well, leave me the report.¡±


    The masked man in front of him bowed and did as directed, leaving him alone in the office the Emperor had designated at his disposal. It was adorable, almost. The magehunter captains all wore masks, fools too weak to realize it was pointless when they did nothing to veil their mana signatures. But they were useful fools, so he refrained from tearing their farce of an organization to pieces. Doing his own torture would be a waste of time.


    The report was unsurprising. Corvin was arrogant beyond belief, he had been selected for their program for his lack of conviction more than his mastery. It was easy to convince the man to join their cause, once the promise of power and notoriety was dangled in front of him.


    Not like the members of the Eternal Archive, now causing him so much trouble. Both had been kept for their combat prowess. Lawrence and the others figured spending so much time away from their sect over the years pointed to a weak loyalty, easily transferred. One of their few miscalculations. Somehow both Laurel and Martin had slipped by anyone who could contain them.


    Part of him suspected it was Marcia¡¯s doing when she was losing faith in the cause, but it was impossible to say, and it didn¡¯t matter anymore. The two warriors had gone about setting up a new branch of their sect in the Meristan capital. Dealing with it was not a priority, but if they were going to continue to interfere with his plans, then things would change. As it was, Corvin was a small loss. They would purge the survivors and chalk it up to a lesson learned. Those two could play at leading a sect all they wanted, their actions even helped his own goals, keeping the other continent under control and preventing a refugee crisis that would split focus.  Once Lawrence had a World Capital under his control, it wouldn¡¯t matter.


    Another of the magehunters was approaching, this one was promising. Lawrence might bother remembering their name soon. The woman had actually observed him and the others, and was adjusting her cultivation accordingly. That kind of diligence was worth noting.


    ¡°Come in,¡± he said before she could knock on the door.


    Only taking a moment to adjust, she entered and saluted, another remnant of the magehunter organization he would be removing from those he deemed useful.


    ¡°Sir, one of our teams has returned with their harvest. I have here the summary of their findings, as per Madam Faye.¡±


    Oh yes, this one was canny indeed. ¡°I had not heard we received anything more. Faye is a busy woman.¡±


    ¡°Of course, sir. It is on my own initiative that the report was generated for your office.¡±


    ¡°Well done.¡± Some praise for the insects was usually enough to ensure loyalty, and that much was easily spared.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    It was disappointing that Faye had ¡®forgotten¡¯ to send him a list of what natural treasures had been brought in, but hardly unsurprising. Theirs was not a partnership of trust. She was a last minute replacement for the crafting expertise lost in Marcia. He knew it and so did the others. But it meant there was something worth subverting him for on this list. Water, air, earth, plants, and what was that? Wheat? There were wheat natural treasures now? He looked deeper, none of these were worth anything beyond their ability to anchor a Core.


    There. Faye must be getting even more paranoid if she was censoring her own notes. ¡®A cloud-like formation, suspected mist aspect¡¯. The chances that she didn¡¯t recognize a Heaven¡¯s Ghost when she saw it were slim. It was also an almost-universal cultivation aid. Even at their level, a cultivator could make use of it to strengthen their meridians, and prepare themselves for the formation of their own Cores. Of course, anyone wasting it in such a manner was a short-sighted fool, taking a shortcut that was easily matched with hard work and squandering a resource wars had been fought over.


    The walk to Faye¡¯s domain was a long one; the woman had insisted she be given a workshop free from the lead that spiderwebbed throughout the city. Conveniently out of his deepest influence as well. Transparent, but some concessions were necessary. He picked his way through the streets, stalking past horrible smelling industry and less offensive but still far too crowded markets. Everything here conspired to give the rational man a headache. Truly, if most people were as willing as he was to suffer for their goals, his ascendancy wouldn¡¯t have been so easy. But rare was the man who would accept a sliver of hardship when an alternative presented itself.


    The Emperor certainly wasn¡¯t. The man had a crude kind of intelligence, enough to bend the local cultivators to his will while suppressing them with his own power. But his vision was narrow. Emperor Nalankar wanted to conquer. When Lawrence offered him the means to do so, he was given all the favor and funding he needed.


    His musings were cut short when he arrived at the magehunter compound. Little used before Faye appropriated the building, it now bustled with what passed for initiates these days. On reflex he scanned their cultivation as he made his way inside. None were foolish enough to challenge him for the offense, or demand he identify himself.


    A few anomalies almost had him slowing down. Those were the ones who flinched when he scanned them, or showed some signs of actual intentional cultivation of their meridians. Lawrence pursed his lips but chose to leave it for later. If Faye wanted to spend her time building up supporters he would let her. She wasn¡¯t a hard woman to wrangle for someone who knew where to press.


    ¡°Faye, I hear congratulations are in order for our most recent harvesting team.¡± He pushed through the doors without knocking, as though he had been invited.


    A raised eyebrow from the scripting expert was the only reaction. ¡°Indeed, quite the haul. Enough for the next two locations on our list if my calculations are correct.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said with a saccharine smile. ¡°Lucky these didn¡¯t run into any resistance from the tiny kingdoms up in the mountains. Not like poor Corvin. I did tell you he was going to be a problem.¡±


    Lawrence accepted the barb with a smile. ¡°He was not the most patient of men, but he served his purpose centuries ago. That he won¡¯t see our ascendancy is ¡­.unfortunate, but not something to be concerned with.¡±


    ¡°Oh? What about the Eternal Archive, are they something to be concerned with?¡±


    He flicked his fingers to the side and leaned against the wide worktable that dominated half of the room. ¡°Hardly. Children playing at being in charge. They¡¯ll fall in line or be ground to dust beneath our feet when they realize they can¡¯t win. I¡¯m not concerned.¡± There was a smattering of jade boxes across the table, in the process of being sorted. He picked up the closest and tapped the enchantment to look inside. ¡°Anything interesting in this batch?¡±


    Watching a trap close was always a delight. The twitch of Faye¡¯s cheek muscle, and slight flexing of her hands was all that gave her frustration away. Mortals wouldn¡¯t notice at all. But he did, and he reveled in it. Now she would need to confess to finding the Heaven¡¯s Ghost or be caught in the lie.


    ¡°Most are barely worth the time it would take to absorb them. Except this one.¡± She pushed the box towards him. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen one in person so it¡¯s hard to be sure, but I believe it to be a Heaven¡¯s Ghost.¡±


    Lawrence whistled in appreciation, not needing to fake the emotion for such a boon. ¡°How lucky for us,¡± he murmured. ¡°They never form in the same place twice. Whoever found this deserves a reward. Send them over and I¡¯ll give them some personal lessons.¡±


    That got him an actual frown. ¡°Very well,¡± she said.


    Poor form to poach another¡¯s promising students, but it would serve as a reminder. Faye could do whatever she wanted with the chaff, but the best would be carefully skimmed for true advancement.


    ¡°Will you absorb it yourself?¡±


    Of course, the curiosity of a crafter was hard to suppress. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I have plans for this little gem that are far more useful than that.¡±


    Judging the moment dramatic enough, he walked back out, tossing the container with the Ghost up and down as he walked out. It was almost too easy. Even his allies fell into the traps that had so long held them back. Bickering and hiding resources to get an edge up over their rivals, losing sight of the big picture. When they had a World Capital to command, none would stand in their way. Every resource, every treasure, everything they wanted would be theirs for the taking. They would advance at their leisure, and then the cosmos itself would bow to their will when they moved beyond. It was all going according to plan.

 Ch 81 - Legendary Rivals

    ¡°Stop looking at me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not looking at you. I¡¯m sitting in my seat and your obnoxious face is in the way.¡±


    Laurel glanced over at Martin and confirmed he was listening to the same hushed argument from the other end of the breakfast table. Heightened senses were often a double-edged sword, giving them a front-row seat to the continued sniping between Gabrielle and Rebecca that had been the constant background noise for the weeks since their return to Verilia.


    ¡°Should we intervene? I would have thought beating on each other for the last fortnight was enough to put this to rest.¡± She spoke softly and sent a thread of air mana to prevent anyone but the sect officers seated around her from hearing their discussion.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. In primary school when a teacher tried to interfere with fights like this it only made them worse,¡± Annette said, sipping her second cup of tea that morning.


    ¡°They need to work out a pecking order for themselves. See it in every wannabe gang out in the Flats,¡± Adam added without looking up from the paper.


    ¡°I suppose so.¡± Laurel let the matter drop and went back to breakfast. The others might not be so philosophical if they were the ones refereeing every ridiculous challenge those two came up with. ¡°Other topics then. When are you thinking of heading out with Devon?¡±


    ¡°Another two weeks should do it,¡± Martin replied. ¡°The jackass is getting more irritable every time I see him, can¡¯t delay too much longer. Not to mention we need to figure out what we¡¯re up against. They¡¯ll be missing that  Corvin asshole by now. And I doubt he was the only one they sent out hunting.¡±


    Laurel agreed. They had pushed the Core to the Town stage quickly, and the population density meant they could reach at least a City within a year or two. But they weren¡¯t the only ones building up a City Core. Laskar City was just as big as Verilia, large enough to support a World Capital. Not something she had any intention of seeing in their enemies¡¯ hands.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she answered belatedly. ¡°Are you set on it being just the three of you? We could probably set up a guild job and find some extra muscle. At least enough to deal with any of George¡¯s friends you run into.¡±


    ¡°Nah,¡± he said. ¡°Too many will just slow us down. We¡¯ve already got to sneak by their capital on the way in and back out again without getting caught.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure I should ¨C¡± Adam started.


    Martin reached to the side and laid his hand on Adam¡¯s forearm, stopping him from fiddling with the utensils.


    ¡°You¡¯re coming. You need the experience and Devon and I can keep you safe. Besides,¡± Martin¡¯s grin turned sly, ¡°aren¡¯t you excited about what we¡¯ll find? Think of it. You and I will get to visit the site of an ancient crafting sect. What secrets will we be able to ferret out and bring back to the Archive?¡±


    Martin knew his target well. Laurel watched the light dawn in Adam¡¯s eyes and decided to give a final push. ¡°Think of the paper you¡¯ll publish with the Historical Society.¡±


    Adam began nodding and pulled out a pen to start jotting notes in the margin of the paper. Martin sent her a quick wink and they went back into the minutiae of the sect. Before coming to Verilia she would have absolutely hated a morning filled with mundane smalltalk. Now she reveled in the chance to be home for a while.


    ¡°Laurel! Laurel! I challenge Gabrielle for her insults to me this morning,¡± Rebecca shouted.


    The girl was now standing up, hands planted on the table and leaning towards Gabrielle, who was glowering in a mirrored position. Martin choked on his tea while trying to keep the laughter from spilling out loud.


    Laurel stood fast enough her chair flew back.


    ¡°Fine. But I¡¯m done watching the same boring fight where you both tire out before you win. Figure out something beyond a standard duel. Then come find me.¡±


    All of the children were watching now, identical looks of confusion across their faces.


    ¡°Not a duel?¡± It was Cooper who finally spoke up.


    ¡°Yes? You think we make healers or artists compete in a fight with warriors?¡± They were still making the same faces. ¡°I¡¯m sure we made you all read sect histories, but clearly it didn¡¯t sink in the first time. Thank your sectmates for revealing this deficiency. A new assignment for everyone this week: translate at least one non-martial challenge from the sect''s history into modern Meristan.¡±


    A chorus of groans filled the air.


    ¡°Careful. If we¡¯re so behind on our Alrasian lessons then maybe it should be two stories.¡±


    The students stampeded out of the dining room and towards the training area outside. Laurel smiled as she followed them. Yes, she could appreciate this kind of morning.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    *********


    ¡°Hey Eric, do you recognize this word?¡± Cooper asked the younger boy.


    ¡°Yeah I saw it in one of the medical scrolls about testing out any potion you make. Martin said it meant ¡®rat¡¯.¡±


    That got Gabrielle¡¯s attention. She was absolutely not doing a rat challenge against the brat. ¡°What are you two talking about, we¡¯re supposed to be translating challenges. There¡¯s no way they were fighting with rats back in the day.¡±


    ¡°Not a fight.¡± Cooper stood and joined her and Helene at their usual work table. The section of the library they were in was filled with wide tables, surrounded by comfortable chairs they could use for their work. As long as they followed all of Adam¡¯s rules. Which meant their teacups were relegated to one table, which was never allowed to house any books. Today they were packed with students combing through old sect records. They all remembered the day Martin had decided they needed to run all the way up to the university and back when he deemed they weren¡¯t trying hard enough in regular conditioning. Laurel had laughed hard enough at the story that no one was willing to see what her punishment would be if they didn¡¯t complete the assignment from breakfast.


    ¡°What do you mean it isn¡¯t a fight, that¡¯s why we¡¯re here right now,¡± Gabrielle said.


    Helene just calmly continued her own translation, ignoring the interruption and occasionally looking at the dictionary she had put together over the winter.


    ¡°Ah, but see I went back to the official bylaws. It was one of the first things Adam worked on while they were setting up the building. To quote ¡®any sect member may challenge another on grounds of honor¡¯. Then there¡¯s a bunch about who can adjudicate and the punishments for hurting another sect member outside of an official challenge. Then we get ¡®the challenge must be a contest agreed upon by both parties in which a definitive winner may be determined by the adjudicator. Any costs must be incurred by either or both parties and may be included in the loser¡¯s forfeit.¡¯ Nothing about actually fighting.


    ¡°And this,¡± he pushed the tome he was translating in front of Gabrielle, ¡°is not a story of a fight. If I¡¯m reading it right, two adepts that worked with animals decided to settle their differences by each taking two months to train a rat. At the end, they timed which rat could complete a maze designed by the adjudicator the fastest.¡±


    Almost everyone was listening in now, having gathered around while Cooper explained.


    ¡°Weren¡¯t these people supposed to be like legendary warriors? You¡¯re telling me they had official rat races?¡±


    ¡°I think Martin and Laurel might be giving a pretty skewed idea of what cultivators did all day,¡± Cooper answered. ¡°But yeah, rat races.¡±


    ¡°Not just rats. This one is just about collecting the most mushrooms in an hour.¡± Helene closed her own book, gathering up her pages neatly to the side and clipping them together.


    ¡°So it can be anything,¡± Gabrielle said.


    She glanced over at her nemesis, who was resolutely facing the opposite direction.


    **********


    Leander looked up, saw Gabrielle staring, and looked right back down again. His foot reached out to nudge Rebecca¡¯s under the table.


    ¡°I heard them,¡± she muttered under her breath. ¡°Thinks she¡¯s so smart but she¡¯s just stealing ideas from the others.¡±


    The grumbling continued for a while after that but Leander had learned over the last couple of weeks that his input wasn¡¯t necessary for this part. Instead he refocused on the book he was supposed to be translating for Laurel, and the half page of notes to the side. It was slow. He was slow. Lessons had been focused on more practical skills while they were adventuring.  Laurel made them look up plants and natural treasures in the old language when they found something, but that wasn¡¯t the same as the regular language practice the others had done. But a cultivator rose to any challenge.


    He¡¯d brought story books on the trip as well, bought with his own money. But those weren¡¯t about magic. He wasn¡¯t taking a chance on forgetting how to read because he stopped doing it for a while, even if Adam had told him that wasn¡¯t how it worked. Plus he liked stories. Just not when he had to translate them.


    He kept reading. The others were talking about making rats fight. Hopefully they wouldn¡¯t try to bring Flint into their games. He was doing his best but the little guy still wasn¡¯t ready for combat. That¡¯s why he had Leander to protect him. His translation story wasn¡¯t anything exciting. Just two guys fighting to see who would get to eat a flower they both wanted. Or doing something to the flower. Alrasian was hard.


    ¡°...stupid girl probably wants us to do an old-time poetry contest¡­¡±


    Rebecca was still going. Leander kept one ear open in case the rant turned into a conversation, but otherwise he alternated between his reading and eavesdropping on the others.  He¡¯d heard rumors that Eric had mastered an external technique, but he hadn¡¯t been able to talk to the other boy before the divide had sprung up between them. A cultivator was loyal to his friends, so he hadn¡¯t reached out since. But he was still curious about how the aspiring healer had accomplished the feat.


    ¡°Ugh! I can¡¯t take sitting around here anymore. Come on, let¡¯s take Flint for a walk.¡±


    Leander happily obliged and soon they were on their usual path out into the countryside. He watched as, just on time, Rebecca¡¯s whole body relaxed and her expression became a genuine smile.


    ¡°It was just getting so suffocating in there, you know?¡±


    He didn¡¯t but nodded anyway. To him the sect house was where he was the most comfortable. With Laurel around and the thick stone walls, it was the one place in the world he was without a doubt safe. Rebecca hadn¡¯t seemed to mind when they joined the sect, but she¡¯d been spending more time outside in the countryside since they came back. Usually she claimed it was for Flint, but Leander saw how much calmer she was out here.


    ¡°So what do you think I should make the challenge, if it can be anything?¡±


    Leander thought for a moment and pulled out the sound stone hanging on a cord around his neck.


    ¡°Why challenge?¡±


    ¡°Why? You heard what she said that first day! And she¡¯s always getting on me and talking about how I¡¯m not as good a cultivator or whatever. I want to prove once and for all that I¡¯m worth more to the sect than she is.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t good, but he wouldn¡¯t change her mind. He channeled more mana into the stone.


    ¡°Cultivation is many things. If you want to decide who is the best cultivator, you need many challenges.¡±


    ¡°Yes! That¡¯s perfect. We¡¯ll come up with a list and then do them all. Then whoever wins the most is the best. Come on, we need to go back.¡±


    Rebecca turned on her heel, jogging back towards the sect house in the distance. A sinking feeling started in his gut. That might not have been the best choice, but it was too late now. He had a brief flashback to the street kids in Lanport, which Rebecca whipped into a frenzy with only a few days of work.


    It would probably be okay. But just in case he would make sure Laurel never figured out it was his idea.


    **********


    ¡°Everyone is agreed?¡±


    Cooper looked between the young women on either side and resisted the urge to step further back. Rebecca had stormed back into the library an hour ago and announced that they would need more than one contest to prove which of them was the victor. He was fairly sure that everyone except the two girls was confused as to what they were fighting about, but the hidden realm had cemented a friendship with Gabrielle so he went along with the whole thing anyway. The rest of the time had been spent brainstorming a list of challenges. That at least had been fun. The rest of the novice and initiate sect members had all joined in, recommending examples from their own research or whatever they could come up with themselves. The results were daunting. A dozen competitions from the esoteric to the mundane, to be completed over the next few months. Maybe more, if these two couldn¡¯t stop adding whatever they thought they would win at.


    ¡°I¡¯m in,¡± Gabrielle said.


    ¡°Me too,¡± Rebecca added.


    Flint chittered a bit from Rebecca¡¯s shoulders, which Cooper thought was a coincidence. Though Leander insisted that the little monkey understood them some of the time. Cooper desperately wanted to play with the little guy but the unofficial divide among the initiates meant Flint was firmly on Team Rebecca.

 Ch 82 - Setting Sail, Staying Home

    A gentle breeze fluttered the papers Annette had spread out on the top of her desk. The breeze reversed and went back the other way to keep the fluttering motions up and prevent her from reading, until she gave up and sat back. Laurel leaned against the doorframe of her office, Martin¡¯s head poking out behind her.


    ¡°Excellent, I see youve reached a stopping place,¡± the woman Annette had agreed to follow stated the bold lie without so much as a twitch. Annette had learned to pick her battles and went along with it.


    ¡°Of course, what can I help you two with?¡±


    ¡°Today it¡¯s what we can help you with, Annette, love,¡± Martin entered behind Laurel, a leather pack in hand.


    Annette¡¯s training from years in high-end shops and noble households picked up on the quality right away; it was nicer than the ones she¡¯d ordered for the initiates. A sinking feeling pooled in her stomach, but Laurel plowed on before she could gather her wits to say anything.


    ¡°It¡¯s time for you to leave the sect.¡±


    Even knowing it wasn¡¯t what Laurel meant, Annette felt dread pulling her down at the casual comment. It was the same fear everyone in the sect was harboring to some degree or another. They might have made promises over some magical crystals but they all knew it could be taken away.


    ¡°No, not like that! Sorry, sorry, terrible phrasing on my part,¡± Laurel said, a contrite smile on her face. ¡°You went a bit dark there, you know we can¡¯t, and don¡¯t want to kick you out, right? I just mean it¡¯s time for you to leave for a bit like the others have.¡±


    Her heart thundered in her chest. That was only slightly better. ¡°Have I not been sufficiently completing my duties as Quartermaster?¡±


    ¡°Annie,¡± Martin dodged the paperweight she threw at him for that, ¡°you¡¯ve been fantastic. Truly, incredible. That¡¯s not it at all. In fact that might be part of the problem.¡±


    Laurel smoothly picked up where he left off. ¡°You¡¯ve taken so well to being Quartermaster, we¡¯ve put too much pressure on you, and it''s stunting your personal growth. As Sectmaster I¡¯m supposed to look out for you. You can take a couple of weeks to get everything in order, and then you¡¯ll take a little trip.¡±


    Martin raised the leather pack as if to emphasize the point. Annette¡¯s thoughts were flying all over the place, but she managed to get one clear them out.


    ¡°No. There¡¯s no way I can leave. We have so much going on with the sect, I have to help out the new guild. With Martin and Adam leaving soon, I can hardly abandon you to do it all Laurel.¡±


    Annette hated how shaky her voice sounded, like she was begging instead of making a reasonable argument. She wanted to flee this conversation but two old monsters were standing in the way. Never before had her quiet, perfectly arranged office felt so confining.


    ¡°I mean, not forever, but I can manage a few weeks on my own with the kids.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go when everything has settled down here.¡± Already she was onto bargaining. Her old mentors would be ashamed, you never concede so early in a negotiation.


    Laurel finally paused and took a moment to really look at Annette. It felt like her entire soul was on display for the older woman¡¯s perusal. When she spoke again her tone was softer, like she was worried Annette would break if she spoke too loudly.


    ¡°Where¡¯s this really coming from, Annette? You were so adamant about joining in on the cultivating, before.¡±


    In the face of that much sincerity, Annette was helpless to do anything but answer. She wished she didn¡¯t have to. It was one thing to admit to Adam while the city was in crisis, another to throw her feelings in the face of two people that had dedicated themselves to magic combat as children and seemingly never regretted it.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡­ What if I try and don¡¯t do it right? I¡¯m good at this part, but,¡± her voice trailed off at the end.


    To her surprise Martin and Laurel were both nodding along at her broken explanation. Laurel looked to Martin who waved at her to speak.


    ¡°Have we ever told you about our friend Farin?¡±


    Annette shook her head. The name was familiar but she knew the pain of that loss was still close enough to the surface that neither Martin nor Laurel liked to poke at it too much.


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t like Martin or me. Martin¡¯s parents were part of the sect, so he always knew he would try and cultivate. I was a teenager when I admitted to my parents that I hated weaving, and applied to join the sect. We did the whole thing, lessons, adventures, et cetera.


    ¡°Farin joined the sect when he was 35, having never cultivated before. He was working with his family, farming land outside the city they¡¯d owned for generations. One day he realized he hated most of his life, and wanted to try something different.


    ¡°He was a lot like you. Smart, talented, willing to work hard for the sect. He was also a lot like you in that he took it upon himself to take up chores with the gardeners, using what he already knew he was good at.


    ¡°We only met him after completing a foraging mission for the head gardener that wanted to graft a new type of wild vine onto some of the ones the sect had, and sent us out to find it. That¡¯s not important. What is important is that Farin¡¯s cultivation wasn¡¯t progressing because he was worried he would fail if he stepped out of his comfort zone. And then all manner of horrible consequences would happen, getting kicked out of the sect, something happening to his family, who knows what he was thinking.


    ¡°He was wrong and so are you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, so you know for certain I won¡¯t fail?¡± She could take an absurdly appropriate life lesson but Annette was too practical to buy false platitudes.


    ¡°No, you¡¯ll definitely fail,¡± Martin said. ¡°Everyone does at some point. Pushing it off just allows the specter of that failure to become some insurmountable obstacle in your head. We dragged Farin out with us after we found him hiding away, and he got his ass handed to him by a spirit beast. Then the next day Laurel exploded the thing she was trying to enchant. I, of course, was the exception and was good at everything the first time I tried it.¡±


    If Annette had another paperweight she would have thrown that one as well.


    ¡°I feel like this was a long-winded way of you telling me that you¡¯ve already decided and I¡¯m going,¡± she said into the silence.


    ¡°It was supposed to be inspirational. I won¡¯t force you Annette, but I really think you should go.¡±


    A century-old warrior with lightning powers should not be able to look that plaintive. Martin just looked exasperated, and Annette had a sneaking suspicion that if he was the sectmaster he would absolutely be forcing her to go.


    ¡°Fine. But I need a month to plan. And find somewhere to go.¡±


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Excellent,¡± Laurel was suddenly all smiles again. ¡°You have two weeks and I already know where you should go. You were really interested in the spatial tattoos right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, before you told me it was the worst agony of a lifetime!¡±


    ¡°If you want to feel out if you have any compatibility with spatial mana, you can go explore the hidden realm the kids found.¡± Laurel neatly sidestepped the pain comment and held up a hand to stall Annette¡¯s protests.


    ¡°I already checked with General Mansfeln after the defense array discussions. Thanks for skipping out on that Martin, by the way.¡±


    Martin¡¯s retort was a rude hand gesture and a seated bow.


    ¡°They have soldiers stationed there to prevent anyone from wandering in but they haven¡¯t explored it yet. It will be more interesting now that it¡¯s stabilized, and it¡¯s the perfect place for a budding spatial cultivator. You can even take someone form the sect with you if you want, or a couple of the army cultivators.¡±


    For someone who claimed an aversion to politics, it was extremely well-played. Annette¡¯s major avenues of protest were addressed and cut off, contingencies already in place. A masterful bit of forethought on Laurel¡¯s part, and the woman was aware of it if the smug grin was anything to go by.


    ¡°Ugh, fine. Two weeks and I¡¯ll go on an adventure of my own. Only a short one though.¡±


    ¡°Perfect, we¡¯ll talk more as it gets closer,¡± Laurel said, while she and Martin swanned out of the room.


    She slumped back in defeat. Annette gave herself one full minute to wallow. When that was up, she pushed the newspapers off to the side and pulled out a fresh ream and new ink. If she was going to be ready to leave the sect in two weeks, there was a mountain of work to get to and no time to wait.


    *********


    ¡°Today¡¯s the day?¡± Laurel was looking at him with a weird expression on her face.


    ¡°Aw, L, are you going to miss me?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, yes. And it''s taking everything in me not to freak out about anyone in the sect willingly going back to Laskar.¡±


    Martin dropped the playful act. Laurel didn¡¯t show vulnerability that easily. Though things had been different for the last couple of years.


    ¡°It has to be done. And you know Devon and I will keep Adam safe.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    Both masters paused then, staring out at the city from their perch on top of the sect house dome. They had long since reached the point of being comfortable with each other in silence.


    ¡°Two years in this place. It feels like ages. But at the same time, like everything has passed in the blink of an eye. I¡¯m still getting used to not knowing what¡¯s next, or how to plan for it,¡± Laurel finally said.


    Martin knocked his shoulder into hers. ¡°You¡¯re doing amazing L, and you don¡¯t have to do it alone. But when I get back maybe you and I should stay put for a while. Maybe do something Farin and Imelda would have liked.¡±


    He caught wetness glistening in her eyes that matched his own.


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s do that.¡±


    Nothing more had to be said. This wasn¡¯t the first time they had seen each other off into danger and it wouldn¡¯t be the last. Martin took the moment to study the city one last time before heading out. From the Flats all the way up to the palace, it was a weird place full of hyper-specific rules and a rigid love of paper and way too much tea. It was also the place his family was rising from the fucking ashes, where he¡¯d found his best friend after thinking she was dead and gone, and where he was starting something that had the chance to be truly special. So if he had to walk through enemy territory and figure out what they were doing in order to defend his home, so be it. Time to get started.


    *********


    ¡°Almost there, just over the next hill line should do it,¡± Martin called out to where they were walking behind him. He bounced along with barely concealed excitement.


    Devon was in an extravagant suit, as usual, the orange paisley pattern an absolute eyesore to Adam¡¯s sensibilities. The enchanter strolled over hills and through the dense underbrush like it was a walk in a manicured garden, not a hair out of place or a drop of sweat on him. Adam, by contrast, was huffing and puffing while carrying a large pack. This was day two of their hike and he already felt the grime of the outdoors seeping into his very soul. People had created civilization so they wouldn¡¯t have to deal with the woods anymore, for fuck¡¯s sake. And the others had insisted he carry his own pack, because it was a ¡°rite of passage¡± and ¡°no one appreciates storage rings unless they¡¯ve suffered¡±.


    They broke out of the trees and crested a rise to see ¡­ a beach. A small cove with a pebble-lined shore. It was pleasant but it was just another stretch of coast line, like any of a thousand others they had passed in the last two days.


    ¡°This should be good.¡±


    With no more warning than that, Martin walked right out, staying on top of the water until he was a few dozen meters offshore. The man waved his arm and a boat dropped down in the water next to him, sending a small wave to splash against the sand and rocks. Adam gaped.


    ¡°A boat? We walked two days through the dirty woods to find a place for a boat, when we live in a city with the second largest port in the country?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re being sneaky!¡± Martin shouted back, with a grin that was charming enough to get him out of almost anything.


    Devon rolled his eyes, muttered ¡°showoff¡±, and then pulled out a metal disk he threw into the shallows. It expanded into a floating platform, probably three meters across. At a gesture Adam scrambled onto it and they floated to meet Martin at the boat.


    ¡°The royal council knows where we¡¯re going, but that¡¯s it,¡± Martin said. ¡°A public trip into enemy territory isn¡¯t the best move, so we implied pretty heavily to Sabrina and some of the others that we¡¯d be going down to Jaranda to meet up with people there. Didn¡¯t want anyone to see us leaving or recognize the ship ¨C not a boat ¨C and that¡¯s why we¡¯re here.¡±


    The man tossed a rope ladder over the side. Adam reluctantly scrambled up, distinctly feeling his lack of grace in front of the other two men. Devon didn¡¯t bother and jumped onto the deck, snapping his fingers to cause his platform to collapse and fly back to his hand.


    Adam took a moment to peer around the ¡®ship¡¯. Maybe yacht was a better term. The boat was built along sleek lines, and he could see a hatch that would hopefully lead to an area he could sleep with a solid roof over his head. It looked fast. Knowing Martin, that would be an understatement. A thick mast held up a large sail, while ropes and other boat-things he couldn¡¯t name were neatly stored around the deck. It was maybe a dozen meters long, which made it the largest vessel Adam had ever set foot on.


    ¡°Is this thing big enough to cross an ocean?¡±


    ¡°Thing?!¡± Martin¡¯s tone was playfully incensed, but Adam detected a real note of hurt beneath. ¡°The Tide¡¯s Defiance is a work of art, and one of the best personal vessels money can buy.¡±


    ¡°Or what money could buy a millenia ago,¡± Devon added. The man had already brought out a chair and was lounging in the front of the deck.


    ¡°True. But she¡¯s still a beauty. And more importantly, she¡¯s enchanted. And has fins.¡±


    ¡°Fins?¡± Adam was entirely lost. He was a land creature. A pampered indoor pet. Were boats supposed to have fins?


    ¡°Look over the side while I get her ready,¡± Martin answered instead of explaining like a normal person.


    Adam did it anyway. He was learning, if slowly, how to navigate the wonderful complexities of the other man. Waking over to the polished railing, Adam made sure he had an extremely firm grip before leaning slightly over the edge. He remembered to send his spiritual senses out as well, and he could feel Martin¡¯s mana doing something complicated at the ship¡¯s wheel. Before his eyes, Adam watched as part of the hull peeled itself away, forming underwater wings, or fins he guessed. The structures had a stiff frame, with something resembling the sails covering it. Another pulse of Martin¡¯s mana, and he could see the fins bow outwards as water pushed into them, the ship jolting at first, and then gliding smoothly through the waves as they started out to sea, with not a wisp of wind to be felt.


    The other men convened around where Devon was lounging in the front. Martin pulled out an extra chair rather than making Adam use his camp stool, for which the grateful librarian gave a soft smile.


    ¡°This counts as hospitality, so no need to rough it while aboard,¡± Martin said with a wink. He continued, as excited to explain the ship as he had been at the last orchestra concert he¡¯d dragged Adam out of his office to go and see. ¡°The mast is enchanted too, for when Laurel¡¯s on board. Using ambient mana to fill the sails without an air attunement would be exhausting for a long trip, so the fins let me basically do the same thing underwater. It also means we aren¡¯t depending on the wind to get us anywhere. Makes for a fast trip.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s actually an impressive little bit of enchanting,¡± Devon said, eyes still closed and leaning back in his seat. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you didn¡¯t get it in your old mountain fortress there.¡±


    ¡°No, I had it commissioned when we all officially reached the expert stage, from the shipwrights at Old Windrest. Ancient coastal city on the far west of the continent Laskar¡¯s on.¡±


    Adam assumed the last was added for his benefit. When the conversation lapsed, Adam pulled out one of the journal¡¯s he had packed for this trip and began writing down everything they¡¯d done that day, along with the little bit of history. If he was being forced onto an adventure, it for damn sure was going to be recorded in the Archive afterwards.


    **********


    Laurel felt a wave of nostalgia as she walked into the guild headquarters in her old healing shop. A year wasn¡¯t that long, and yet it felt like an age since she and Adam had found the empty building to serve as an official address on their documents with the city. Now it was a fashionable little guild hall that wouldn¡¯t be out of place in any of the middle class districts further up the hill. One of the local cultivators Laurel hadn¡¯t met yet was sitting behind the desk, with Sabrina standing by the job board with a sheaf of papers in hand.


    ¡°Oh, Madam Stormblade, I didn¡¯t expect you.¡±


    ¡°I thought it might be a good time to make some progress on my yearly guild contract quota. Got anything good for me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid it''s mostly hunting requests at this point. I suppose if that¡¯s what you would like to do, Martin seemed to think those better suited to the young ones.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s right, I was just hoping something more interesting had come up. Backup plans then. I¡¯ll do four lectures a year on more advanced cultivation topics. First one in two months. Sound good?¡±


    The former teacher nodded. Annette had clued Laurel in on that aspect to the guild charter, and that Sabrina had advocated for its inclusion. Laurel sent a thread of mana into the job board and posted the announcement, along with a date for the talk and a location at the sect house. The members of their tiny guild would have enough time to make it if they were interested. She spent another few minutes talking with the young woman working the desk. A local, she was from a nearby village, with a family that had managed to hang onto, and pass down, the methods for carving meridians. It was back out into the city after that.


    The rest of the day she spent roaming Verilia. She watched fishermen come in on the tide, saw merchants paying to use the new floating barges to move cargo uphill, walked by schools, and workshops, factories and abandoned lots with weeds springing up in the cracked foundations.


    Cultivation linked her to the city and the Core, but she wanted the truth of this place with her own eyes. The others would scatter for the moment, growing and learning far and wide. The kids would feud and bicker. For Laurel it was time for her to grow roots; she had what she needed to take their Town Core into that of a City, then a Capital. And with rivals around the world, she would make that her focus. Once Verilia was a World Capital, her people would be safe.


    Her last stop of the day was the palace. This time when she requested a meeting with the king, she was scheduled for the next week, instead of half a year in the future. Progress always felt good.


    Stars rose and the city bloomed on her way down the hill. She ducked into a few different pubs and taverns, buying dinner in one and drinks in the others, letting the gossip and jokes wash over her. When she finally made it back to the sect house it was with a smile. There was a long road ahead but she would savor each step of the journey.

 Ch 83 - Whats in a City?

    Cooper traipsed back inside after morning combat practice. Only cycling his mana allowed the limp noodles his limbs had become to keep him upright. It was the first time since his very early days in the sect that the exercise was led by Laurel and not Martin. Laurel¡¯s style was more cheerful. She smiled, and all her words were congratulatory, starkly different from Martin¡¯s harsh exhortations to try harder. Cooper should be forgiven for having guessed that would make for an easier lesson. He was wrong. So very wrong. Instead of the shouted insults they¡¯d gotten used to, they were treated to ¡®encouragements¡¯ like ¡°oh I¡¯m so happy your cultivation has gotten strong enough that you don¡¯t feel the need to run quickly¡± and ¡°such brave students to be stopping before I¡¯ve called a halt¡±. All of it spoken with a manic smile, and carried to their ears on unnatural wisps of wind. The end result was Cooper wishing for questions of his manhood that he¡¯d gotten used to.


    At least it worked. His mana felt invigorated, while the rest of him was wrung out like a used towel.


    He was still sagging against the wall when Laurel entered, along with Leander, who had stayed back when the rest came inside. Cooper was impressed the younger boy could talk to Laurel so casually. He liked Laurel, was glad to have her as a leader, but he hadn¡¯t been part of the sect for very long before the leviathan attacked. It was hard to casually chat with someone that could rip giant monsters apart with the power of her mind. Martin was usually more formal with the students, which made things easier in some sense. Cooper was used to professors and fathers being a higher authority, and he didn¡¯t have to work to figure out how to talk to them. Interacting with Laurel always felt like he was just a little bit on edge. All his instincts of a formal education said he should be bowing and thanking her after every lesson, never complaining. But a few days of lessons with Rebecca and Leander had shown him she really didn¡¯t care, she would just keep pushing them no matter what.


    ¡°You¡¯ve chosen your path, now you need to figure out the best way to walk it. For you, not for anyone else.¡±


    ¡°I want to try,¡± the cold, dead voice of Leander¡¯s stone spoke in response to whatever Laurel was saying.


    ¡°We¡¯ll do some practice then. Affinity isn¡¯t something you can pinpoint. Even if you forcibly aspect to something you don¡¯t feel a connection to, it will most likely evolve in a direction that more aligns with who you are. Okay? Don¡¯t give me that look. I don¡¯t want you to think you have to do exactly what I¡¯ve done.


    ¡°Fine. Let anyone else with open meridians know. We¡¯ll do it twice a year for now. More frequently than that is going to cost contribution points.¡±


    Their Sectmaster went off after that in the direction of Annette¡¯s office.


    ¡°Hey Leander,¡± Cooper called out, his voice low, not wanting to pull Laurel back.


    The boy looked conflicted as he walked over. This was getting ridiculous.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, we¡¯re allowed to talk to each other, the princesses haven¡¯t gone that far yet.¡±


    That got him a smile as Leander joined him, leaning against the wall and then sliding down until they both sat against the flagstones. The silence was comfortable, broken only by soft breathing and distant humming, and something both of them had lacked in recent weeks.


    ¡°What were you talking to Laurel about?¡± Cooper finally asked the question he¡¯d called the boy over for.


    ¡°Mana affinity. Laurel says anyone can aspect their mana to anything, but some are harder to start with, and if it doesn¡¯t line up with your goals for cultivation or personality, it is difficult to advance them.¡±


    That was more words than Cooper recalled Leander ever using his stone for at one time. His mana control must be insane. Cooper reminded himself that Leander had been cultivating for longer than he had, even if Cooper was almost a decade older.


    ¡°What are you aiming for then that you need to test?¡±


    ¡°Air. Lightning. Metal.¡±


    That made a bit more sense with Laurel¡¯s advice about ¡°walking your own path¡±. He had to give it to the lad for ambition.


    ¡°Well, good luck then. Helene and Gabrielle have been pouring over the contribution store. Just a single treasure for aspecting mana is going to cost quite a bit, I don¡¯t envy you saving for three.¡±


    They sat in silence once again until Leander gave him a nod and an awkward shoulder pat before he left. Cooper barely noticed. He was stuck in a spiral of his own thoughts. First he trekked around the country with Eric, who at fifteen already had a set path he wanted to pursue. Then Gabrielle and Helene showed back up with ideas not just for their own cultivation, but for how they could complement each other as a team, not to mention a plan to get there. Now Leander, who couldn¡¯t be more than twelve or thirteen, was working out how he could follow in their ancient hero of a Sectmaster¡¯s footsteps.


    Was it him? Was he broken? How did everyone else already know what they wanted out of life?


    Cooper was twenty-three. He¡¯d gone to university, he¡¯d traveled with his parents and siblings, seen the world and experienced new things. Yet he was the one floundering. All he could really say was that he wanted to have adventures, and see all the amazing magic in the world.


    Maybe Laurel¡¯s testing thing would give him some direction.


    **********


    Laurel was getting used to the long walk through the palace to a nondescript door. From what she could tell, the servants had never led her though the exact same route twice, and the number of identical conference rooms hidden throughout the building was impressive. She played along even though no one was fooled by the circuitous detours. A quick thank you to the servant was enough and she let herself in, finding the council in discussion of logistics surrounding the new air barges. She entered and took the empty seat in front of a still-steaming cup of tea, listening in. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    ¡°Merchants are still viewing it as something of a novelty, though some of the smaller operations have begun using them to ship up from the docks. Cheaper than a gilded porter. The majority of users have been pedestrians. Many riding for an amusement, but we have reports of some regulars using the floats for regular commutes,¡± Madam Curson wrapped up her report.


    ¡°Thank you, that is promising, along with the approval of the new defensive measures. Let us turn to Madam Stormblade¡¯s request to join this meeting.¡±


    King Edward was in what passed for informal wear, from what Laurel had seen of the man. Which was still embroidered within an inch of the velvet¡¯s life. The others were all arrayed as usual, the Skycrests to the king¡¯s right, with Mansfeln and Curson to his left, the Skycrests having started to fly back once a month to liaise with the rest of the council.


    Attention turned to her and she took a breath to prepare. Annette, Adam, Martin, and her had discussed at length how to sell the next stage of City Core development. They were leaning heavily on the ingrained concern about Laskar¡¯s expansion. When Martin and Adam got back they should have more confirmation of how far the foreign Cities had progressed, but they couldn¡¯t wait what could be months for that information. Laurel was relying heavily on salesmanship and politics, not her strongest areas.


    ¡°Thank you, your Majesty. I¡¯m glad to hear we are seeing positive reactions to the new additions to the mana network. I requested this meeting to discuss the next stage of Core development.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes I¡¯ve been so very curious about what comes next. Especially after your light show with the dome,¡± Theresa gushed.


    ¡°Traditionally a Village would become a Town by anchoring the major mana flows with natural treasures when there were only a few thousand residents. The light show didn¡¯t used to be so impressive, but with all the mana flowing through Verilia, well, you saw,¡± Laurel explained, taking a sip of her tea.


    ¡°What comes next is¡­different,¡± she continued. ¡°It doesn¡¯t just depend on the sect. In fact it goes beyond the people in this room as well. The major requirement for a Town to become a City is people.¡±


    ¡°¡®People¡¯ is not a resource we lack,¡± the king said. He was watching Laurel like she was a wild animal and he was unsure of what direction the attack would come from. ¡°Is it?¡±


    ¡°There are plenty of people living in the city, but for the Core¡¯s development they would need to bind themselves to the city voluntarily.¡±


    ¡°Bind themselves, as in they couldn¡¯t leave?¡± Madam Curson looked up from where she was taking notes.


    ¡°No, not at all. It¡¯s basically just saying this is where they live. It allows the Core to leverage some of the mana generated by the official citizens, but they can break the bond at any time. Or create a new bond with a different Core, which does the same thing.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no way we can force our people to do that,¡± Mansfeln said. The man was halfway out of his chair before a gesture from the king had him sitting back down.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not like that ¨C¡±


    ¡°Was this how things worked in your time, why would anyone agree to have some magic thing grafted onto their soul? Is this just a way for your group to gain power over the regular people?¡± The irate general continued.


    ¡°I have to admit, I¡¯m concerned as well,¡± Ridge added.


    ¡°The logistics for something like that would be overwhelming,¡± Curson said.


    The whole conversation was spiraling further away from Laurel¡¯s careful plan. Ridge was frowning, Mansfeln half a breath from attacking her, and Curson¡¯s lips were pursed closed, which Laurel had learned was the equivalent to violent swearing from anyone else. Theresa didn¡¯t react at all, but the woman was inscrutable when she wanted to be.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡±


    All eyes went back to the king.


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s all calm down for a moment. Madam Stormblade, I must admit to sharing some of the general¡¯s concerns. It sounds like you are asking my people to swear allegiance in a magically binding fashion, to a construct most haven¡¯t heard or conceived of. And through that, in some sense they would be swearing to you. Can you explain?¡±


    ¡°Thank you again, your Majesty. I¡¯d be happy to. I don¡¯t know if the issue is one of translation or culture, but in my time, this was an uncontroversial thing. People simply bound themselves to the place they lived. If they moved, they bound themselves to the new place. There is no danger. It just redirects a person''s mana a bit. If someone isn¡¯t a cultivator of any sort they won¡¯t notice. They might even benefit. There are reports that the influence of a Core keeps those in its domain healthier, helping them live longer. Such things are hard to prove but likely the case. There are a few scenarios in which we can draw energy from citizens, but those are unlikely.


    ¡°More importantly, and I hope the whole council listens to this with an open mind, we cannot afford to ignore the Core progression.¡±


    She sent a look around the table, lingering on Mansfeln.


    ¡°Maybe you don¡¯t want the benefits of a fully developed City Core. The teleportation, the instant communication, the wonders you haven¡¯t even thought to ask for. Maybe you don¡¯t care about accessing knowledge and history from around the world, and worlds beyond our own. Maybe deeper links to cosmic mana flows aren¡¯t something you think we need.


    ¡°But there are other people in the world that do care. The Laskarians are searching for natural treasures. Whatever the group that put us in this situation is calling themselves, they know that if they control the cosmic mana then they have a stranglehold on the world itself. If they can establish Laskar City or anywhere else as a World Capital, then we will be at their mercy.


    ¡°Beating them there is the only option.¡±


    ¡°So it''s just one more day where we have to listen to what you say or our entire society will collapse,¡± Mansfeln said.


    The king held up a single hand and silenced the man once more. ¡°Do you have any proof of these claims?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Laurel bit out. ¡°As you know, I have not returned to Laskar recently. Martin will have proof when he gets back in a few months.¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± the king said. ¡°When he returns we will re-evaluate. For now, we do not feel comfortable ordering the people of Verilia into such a contract.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time¨C¡±


    ¡°That is our decision.¡± The king cut off Laurel¡¯s protests. ¡°However, if you wish to pursue this course as an independent organization, we will not hinder you. And we will publicly verify the process is safe.¡±


    Laurel looked at Theresa in desperation. ¡°Surely you can see the necessity of what I¡¯m describing.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Laurel.¡± She looked it too, not that it helped. ¡°I believe you, but we can¡¯t just force people into this.¡±


    ¡°This is a delicate matter. If the palace is seen as pushing too hard, the nobles can leverage that to improve their own standing on other manners. It is a delicate balance we must keep.¡± The king continued. ¡°I am personally inclined to believe you. And were it entirely within my power, we would take any lead we have and extend it as fast as possible. But it is not. I am answerable to the Parliament of Nobles, and the Guild Council as well. If we try and force the issue, the response from those groups will be catastrophic. I do not think a political coup would be in the best interest of Core advancement either.¡±


    There would be no further victory here today. Laurel could see it in the way the councilors were turning ever so slightly away, closing themselves off from any argument she could make. The king had slipped back into the royal form of address, none of the others could maintain eye contact. Except of course for Mansflen, who was staring like he could read her mind if he squinted hard enough. It was time to go.


    ¡°Thank you for the time. And the assistance. It will be invaluable. When Martin returns I will bring you further information.¡±


    She didn¡¯t linger in the palace after that. In the first courtyard she came to, she leapt into the air, pulling on a tendril of mana to bring her higher and higher, until the whole city was spread out beneath her like a children¡¯s toy set. This high up it was mostly quiet. The constant thrum of a lively city couldn¡¯t reach her. If she squinted, she could just make out a golden haze, the ambient mana distorted by over a million lives, saturating the city. A part of her regretted that she had forced Annette into leaving for a while. The Quartermaster¡¯s experience and talent for political battles would be pivotal with only partial support from the palace. Laurel crushed the feeling down. She would discuss with Annette and then send the woman on her way. Laurel refused to cripple her friend¡¯s cultivation for an easier battle.


    With a bare wisp of willpower, Laurel swooped down the hill and back to the sect house. There was always more work to do.

 Ch 84 - Face Off

    Rebecca tramped along with the rest of the sect initiates, with the novices trailing along behind them like a reluctant tail. The walk to the fort was long, but with all the training she¡¯d been through, the kilometers melted away. It was still early morning when they arrived, bright clear light sending long shadows across the fields and barracks they were led through until they reached the famed obstacle course.


    Growing up in the city, everyone was well aware of the training course all new army recruits were forced to run. Stretching half a kilometer, it was a grueling test of strength, speed, and stamina. Once a year the course was opened up for regular people to attempt and compare themselves to the soldiers. It was considered a point of pride for young men and women to get more than halfway before quitting. Actually reaching the end would get you free drinks for the rest of that month in any of the taverns in the city.


    Then Rebecca noticed the crowd. Laurel was standing on a platform at the beginning of the course, along with Major Kat. Behind them, spread out around the course¡¯s length, Rebecca could see clusters of soldiers, some holding breakfast, others having brought out small camp chairs. No one had said anything about an audience!


    Gabrielle, of course, was eating it up. Rebecca could see her smiling and waving to the waiting people as she swaggered towards Laurel. Two could play at that game. She transferred Flint to Leander¡¯s shoulders and marched up to the front, making sure she reached Laurel at the same time as Gabrielle.


    ¡°Welcome all, we are here today to settle a challenge between Initiates Rebecca Evrard and Gabrielle Marchant of the Eternal Archive. The challenge is to be the fastest to complete a physical obstacle course as determined by the designated adjudicator, myself. Rather than build a new one from scratch, we have been graciously allowed temporary use of the infamous Fort Sarken Obstacle Course for the morning while it is not otherwise in use.¡±


    Rebecca shivered at the slight breeze that meant Laurel was sending her words to everyone directly through the air. The sensation always felt like the Sectmaster was standing right behind her. Laurel made some sort of signal to the major and the pilot began speaking, her words being projected as well.


    ¡°Seems to be there are a lot of recruits with free time and an interest in our obstacle course. Who wants to show these young ladies how to complete this month¡¯s setup?¡±


    About half the soldiers found a way to avoid eye contact while still looking at the major, while the rest eagerly started shouting to be chosen.


    ¡°One, two, three, four,¡± Major Kat said, pointing out four eager soldiers in turn. ¡°McKesson, I expect you to do the pilot corps proud.¡±


    The soldiers took places at the beginning of the course, to cheers and jeers from their friends. The starting line was set up for at least 10 people to run at once, so the four spread out. Gabrielle and Rebecca both stepped back to make sure they could watch the entire time.


    ¡°On my signal, ready, go!¡± Laurel shouted. On the word ¡®go¡¯ she also shot out a small lightning bolt into the air, startling the crowd. Recovering quickly, the soldiers were off.


    They scrambled over walls and balance beams, swung across bars and hoops with only their arms, and jumped across wobbling stands in artificial ponds. Rebecca refused to be intimidated. So what? The soldiers were making it look easy, sure, but she had magic on her side. She mapped out where she might need to reinforce her legs so she could jump farther, or send mana to her arms to keep her from falling off the ropes and bars. Instead of worrying she dropped into some of the stretches they used during their normal lessons. It was time to focus. She had traveled the world and fought off evil wizards. This would be easy.


    The four runners crossed the finish line within a minute of each other to more cheers. The pilot Major Kat called out came second by a hair and Rebecca saw the major send the woman an approving nod. When the spectators calmed down, Laurel did that thing where she didn¡¯t move but she somehow got everyone¡¯s attention anyway.


    ¡°Thank you to our volunteers! I¡¯m sure my students will be generous in their appreciation.¡±


    A speaking look came their direction and both young women nodded. Laurel had made it clear that they would be responsible for every cost and courtesy for the amount of work their challenges were taking.


    ¡°Now, as impressive as that was,¡± Laurel continued, ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s fair for cultivators to run the same course. They have access to magic, after all, and the challenge should be raised accordingly.¡±


    The dread she had so successfully shoved down rose like bile in her stomach. Of course Laurel wasn¡¯t going to let them just run the course as it was. Leander was off to the side nodding along like he agreed that cultivators should be running insane magical obstacle courses. If he had his way, this would probably be what they did each evening before dinner.


    With a wave of her hand, Laurel¡¯s mana rolled across the field. With senses so much stronger than a year ago, Rebecca felt the master grab hold of the ambient mana and bend it to her will with barely a ripple beyond the obstacle course itself.


    As the crowd watched, stepping stones and platforms lifted into the air. Strong, sustained gusts of wind pushed ropes off to the side and changed angles. Jets of water plumed up from the crashing pools below.  Running the course now would require using the wind to get between obstacles, and avoiding the areas that would push them off course. Rebecca eyed the new height. It would also require a lot of care if they weren¡¯t going to get into a serious accident.


    ¡°I¡¯ll catch you when you fall off!¡± Laurel announced with a smile. When, not if, Rebecca noticed.


    Rebecca chanced a quick glance at Gabrielle, but other than wide-eyes and raised eyebrows, the other girl was keeping any concerns well-hidden.


    ¡°Fall off once and you go back to the beginning of that obstacle. Fall off the same part three times and you go back to the beginning. First one through the end wins.¡±


    The only way out was forward. Both initiates took positions at the starting line. Rebecca could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. The crowd faded away as she spread out her spiritual senses and focused entirely on the course in front of her. Three, two, one, lightning. The signal came and she was off.


    *********


    The girls were running before the flash of lightning faded from Laurel¡¯s eyes. The first part would be easy, and in fact both scaled the short wall without slowing. That was where the easy part ended. The next step was to jump from the top of the wall onto platforms that were slowly floating up and down in the air. Both girls made it, infusing mana into their legs. Rebecca almost overshot and Gabrielle underestimated the power she would need, but they got there. They sped up through the rest of the platforms, learning the timing and jumping with more confidence.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Then they reached the hard part. Some of the platforms were at angles, and some were too far for a regular jump, and required the girls to use the wind currents Laurel was controlling to get there. It was probably the place they were most likely to fall, but if they used their spiritual senses, and didn¡¯t hesitate, they¡¯d be able to feel the mana and make it to the next wall.


    ¡°Feels a little mean to change it on them at the last minute,¡± Kat drawled beside her.


    Laurel thought the overtly magical display might finally get a reaction from the woman, but not even a twitch in expression had crossed the major¡¯s face when Laurel had transformed the course.


    ¡°They¡¯ve both been training as cultivators for over a year. They can jump and climb and run better than most soldiers if they use their mana. Really they should be thanking me for improving their challenge.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah? Just did all this out of the goodness of your heart?¡±


    ¡°Of course. Anything for my beloved students. If it means the next couple of teenagers that come into conflict think twice before setting up a tournament gauntlet of challenges I have to watch, so much the better.¡±


    Kat snorted. ¡°At least it¡¯s fun to watch. Be careful though or Maria¡¯s going to have you over here running the special forces through the cultivator version for fun.¡±


    ¡°Good point.¡±


    *********


    Gabrielle was stretched to her absolute limits. Her spiritual senses were set on keeping track of the mana flows Laurel created, while she was simultaneously reinforcing her body and calculating angles and force to get between the platforms. Now she was staring out at the next section. It would be even worse. Rings were suspended from floating bars by pieces of chain, and she would have to swing herself across with just her arms. Because Laurel was a sadist, some of those rings were being held out at strange angles by unrelenting wind. A small part of her wanted to stop and give in but she crushed that down mercilessly. She¡¯d worked for everything she had, including in the sect. Not like the brat that coasted off of being a favorite. There was no way she would give in.


    Gabrielle leapt.


    For a moment she hung suspended. Then the magical wind pushed her close enough to grab the first ring.But she couldn¡¯t stop there. This obstacle was all about momentum. Without pause she swung out her opposite arm and grabbed the next ring. Another and another and another until she was at the next mana-manipulated area. All her focus was on the next ring. It was too far to keep a hold of the current ring so with all the momentum she could muster, she threw herself forward. Her body was pushed by the air, her fingertips just brushed the ring, and she fell short.


    ¡°Son of a whore¡¯s bitch!¡±


    There was just a moment to panic before she felt Laurel¡¯s mana infuse the air around her and deposit her at the start of the rings. She was in the perfect position to watch Rebecca make the same transition, and catch the ring instead of falling off. Clapping and whistles reminded Gabrielle they had an audience. There was no way she was coming in last with half of Verilia watching. She launched herself back at it.


    *********


    Rebecca noticed when Gabrielle fell. It was her chance. She would dominate this and every other challenge. Everyone would know she belonged in the sect, and that no one could bully her into thinking otherwise. Her athletic skills came from real battle and travel through the wilderness. Not like Gabrielle who had just sat around the sect except for a few days of danger on a vacation to the countryside. She made it to the end of the rings. Next up was a bunch of rope swings over water spouts. In order to extend her lead she didn¡¯t stop to look at the pattern like she had with the rings. Instead she jumped and grabbed the first rope, kicking off the floating wooden wall.


    On the fourth swing, she felt it as she let go too early. But she had enough reach to grab the next rope. As her hand closed over the closest knot a jet of water slammed into her face. Her concentration broken, her mana stopped cycling to her hands and she dropped. At least she managed to keep the scream inside as Laurel deposited her back at the beginning of the ropes. Face dripping, she glanced behind. Gabrielle was almost done with the rings.


    This time she sacrificed a few moments of her lead to map out the water spouts, and then she went again.


    *********


    Laurel watched her students with a mix of pride and resigned disappointment. They were both performing exceptionally, rising to the challenge like true cultivators. The earnestness with which they approached these challenges was almost beautiful in its naivete. She just wished it wasn¡¯t in opposition to one another. This whole event was a reflection of just how much trust she had in the sect founders, and all the elders that had come before and returned to the stars. Direct competition like this would help the girls purge the kind of insidious resentment that had built up to this point. Probably. Hopefully.


    The girls were in the final hundred meters. This part was usually some sort of sparring when the soldiers ran it; officers standing between their eager soldiers and success. Instead of finding cultivators for them to fight, Laurel would be trying something different. As they stepped onto the field, the air resistance around them increased. When they tried to run, the air pushed back, slowing them down even further. Laurel could pick out the sweat beading along their hairlines, and the panting breaths as they struggled for each meter of ground.


    Both girls cycled their mana to try and resist the pressure. She couldn¡¯t have that. A cultivator always had supreme control over mana within their own bodies. Except when a much stronger cultivator decided to push back against that control. Laurel let the presence of her cultivation smother the field. No mana would move except at her own will. The initiates stumbled at the same time when the trick that allowed them to get this far was ripped away suddenly. Gabrielle ended up on one knee when Laurel made the change. Only for a moment. The young woman staggered back upright and went back to running. Another zing of pride flashed through Laurel.


    Ignoring anything else about her situation, for all the people she¡¯d ever met and places she¡¯d seen, Laurel wouldn¡¯t change her students for anything.


    *********


    Rebecca desperately gasped for breath. Laurel had done something to the air, it was like running through soup. The faster she ran, the thicker it got. Gabrielle was somewhere off to her left but even turning to look felt like too much effort. None of her mana would do what she told it to. She couldn¡¯t use it to breathe easier or send it to her legs to make her run faster. It was all she could do to take the next step. And the one after that. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to stop. She refused. There was no way she would fall at the final moment. Just 50 more meters. Then 20. 10. The line was right there and with everything she had left, Rebecca flung her whole body across it.


    For a few moments she just stayed on the ground, her hands and knees propping her body up while her head dropped forward. She just breathed. But only for a minute. Her limbs were shaking in protest but Rebecca had spent too long cowering to stay on her knees for long.


    She staggered upright and looked around. The soldiers were still cheering, and the rest of the sect was crowded around the finish line or running the rest of the way towards her. Gabrielle was standing off to the side getting a big hug from Helene. Rebecca ignored it all and looked for Laurel. She found her and the major about halfway down the course, walking towards them like they had all the time in the world. Which they did. They weren¡¯t fighting to defend their place in the sect. Not that the major was in the sect. Whatever. The last few minutes it took them to arrive gave Rebecca a chance to calm down. Leander joined her with an approving nod, by which he probably meant something like ¡°cultivators never give up¡±, but she was too tired to parse it correctly.


    The supervising women arrived. It was Rebecca¡¯s moment. She threw her shoulders back and tried to make the gracefully determined expression  Annette had mentioned in their etiquette lessons. Gabrielle joined her


    ¡°I¡¯m proud of both of you.¡±


    The first words from Laurel were just for the two of them.


    ¡°Thank you everyone for coming to support our initiates today. I can announce that the winner of this challenge was Gabrielle Marchant. As a thanks for letting us use your equipment, I will be running the magic-infused version of the course for the rest of the morning if anyone would like to try.¡±


    Laurel kept talking but Rebecca couldn¡¯t hear it over the ringing in her ears. She lost. How could she lose? The only silver lining was that Gabrielle refrained from rubbing it in as she turned towards her own friends. Then Leander was there with Flint. The little guy hopped up on her shoulder and chittered in her ear, like he could tell she needed some comfort. She brought a hand up to stroke his fur. Flint understood and he didn¡¯t need words. For a minute she let herself be comforted. A nudge from Leander¡¯s elbow in her ribs brought her back to the present.


    ¡°The next stage of your challenges is finding and foraging cultivation resources. You will each have one week to leave the city and find, and properly harvest, as many different items you can find. Plants, minerals, whatever. Beast parts will be allowed within reason. Don¡¯t just slaughter everything you find.


    ¡°You can do this as one long excursion, or day trips while you sleep in the sect, I don¡¯t care. However, for your own safety I don¡¯t want you going alone. That being said, we don¡¯t want your friends helping you out. Helene, you will be accompanying Rebecca, Leander you will go with Gabrielle. You have one week from now, then you will be due at the sect house with whatever you¡¯ve found.¡±


    Rebecca firmed up and forced herself not to cry. Fine, she lost the race, but who cares about a race anyway? Real life wasn¡¯t a race. But real life did involve finding interesting magic things in the wild. She would win the next one and all the ones after that.

 Ch 85 - Strategy Session

    ¡°This is a fucking mess, Laurel.¡±


    Annette watched Laurel¡¯s eyes go wide at the swear. Being around the others was slowly wearing down her sense of propriety. At least in private.


    ¡°We have a guild that is still trying to get established. We have our members making spectacles of themselves in front of half of Fort Sarken. The public is already questioning if we pulled our weight in the beast wave. There¡¯s no way we can convince everyone in the stars-cursed city to let us do something magical to them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve come to very much trust your judgment on these things Annette,¡± Laurel said. ¡°But we must.¡±


    Annette threw herself back in the seat, her hands digging into her hair in frustration. Laurel just kept going.


    ¡°You¡¯re always talking about how we should be using the newspapers to ¡®shape the narrative¡¯¡± ¨CAnnette didn¡¯t think the air quotes there were necessary, who even taught her those? ¨C ¡°How about we try printing an explanation there, we can get people to do what we need. The palace agreed we can quote them encouraging citizens to register.¡±


    ¡°Laurel, Laurel. Laurel.¡± Annette said. ¡°That¡¯s right in spirit. In practice, we¡¯ll look power-hungry at best and insane at worst. We can¡¯t just tell everyone what¡¯s going on and hope they make the right choice.¡±


    ¡°What else? The bond doesn¡¯t work if you try and force it. A sect tried that a couple thousand years ago, using prisoners to swell the population count, but it doesn¡¯t work.¡±


    ¡°Moving past that nightmare, we don¡¯t force people, we need to make them think it¡¯s their idea, make them want to do it.¡±


    After the initial panic, Annette had the bare bones of a plan forming in her mind.


    ¡°We need to make it interesting, attractive, maybe even exclusive.¡±


    ¡°How is ¡®you¡¯ll probably live longer¡¯ not already attractive?¡±


    ¡°Because people will assume it''s a lie,¡± Annette answered. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you do some magic truth vow in front of them, people still think you¡¯re lying to sell them something.


    ¡°What about doing like we did with the members, and getting the Flats involved first?¡±


    ¡°No, we need more than a few brave souls to join in. And people in the Flats are going to be more suspicious because they know things don¡¯t always work out. We need to be something the rich can seek out, and the aspiring will follow. When we get a critical mass involved, then you let everyone in and the first groups can still feel special because they were first.¡±


    Annette reached for a sheet of paper and started writing down notes as they came to her. People they would need to contact, hints they would need to drop, bribes to give out, parties to go to, articles to be profiled in. With the right amount of delicate handling it would work. She would just need to have everything just right.


    ¡°Excellent, I¡¯ll trust your instincts here.¡±


    Annette jumped at Laurel¡¯s voice, almost having forgotten the woman was sitting in her office.


    ¡°And in the next battle, you can trust my instincts to make us even. Now write down everything you think of and I¡¯ll get started since you still need to pack for your trip.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± There was no way she was leaving now. Not with a new challenge to tackle. Not with the fate of the world at stake.


    ¡°You leave in two days, you need to decide if anyone¡¯s going with you and make sure you have what you need.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± she gestured down at her list. Laurel would understand, this was delicate social engineering, her specialty.


    ¡°Yeah, when you get old enough you¡¯ll realize there¡¯s always another emergency that decides the fate of the world. They¡¯re all important, but if you drop everything each time, eventually you don¡¯t have anything left. You¡¯re still going.¡±


    **********


    ¡°Just one.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Come on, Martin, just one.¡±


    ¡°You do it.¡±


    ¡°If I do it, it will be harder to keep all the critters away. We don¡¯t want to damage such a promising ecosystem.¡±


    ¡°What are you going to do with it?¡±


    Adam watched Devon look down, to the side, at his own hands or peering off into the distance. Anywhere but Martin¡¯s face.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet,¡± he said.


    Martin narrowed his eyes at the other man. ¡°You seem awfully concerned for someone without a plan.¡±


    ¡°Well, I mean, I know it can be used for a number of things. A catalyst for a potion, a perfect way to improve enchanting tools, clothing, a way to make armor, lighting effect¨C¡±


    ¡°Clothes! You bastard, you¡¯re getting me to source the material for the next atrocious suit you commission, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Atrocious because you have no vision. Just do it and I¡¯ll do some enchanting for your boy here,¡± Devon bargained while gesturing at Adam.


    ¡°Fine.¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    With no more discussion, Martin dove over the railing and into the sea, the dark water swallowing him without a splash. And leaving Adam standing around awkwardly next to Devon.


    ¡°So,¡± he tried to break the silence, ¡°I¡¯ve never been out of the country, you know. Never even really been very far outside of Verilia.¡±


    ¡°Really? Well I can sympathize. My sect elders had to kick me out of the workshop a time or two. That¡¯s how I ended up meeting Martin and your terror of a leader. Along with their little gang of friends.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah?¡±


    ¡°A tournament at the Eternal Archive. I competed with the enchanters. Then the battle maniacs fought each other while we watched. Ended up roped in with them when they went off gallivanting, and the night ended with half a mountainside destroyed. Good times.¡±


    ¡°Half a mountainside?¡±


    Before he could get any more stories out of Devon, Martin launched out of the water, an emerald banner trailing behind. When he alighted on the deck Adam could identify it as some sort of massive plant, glittering in the sunlight.


    ¡°One complete stalk of Diamond Kelp, cleanly harvested. You¡¯re welcome.¡±


    Without any fanfare the boat started moving away from the shimmering patch of ocean. They spent the evening discussing past adventures and filling Adam in on what to expect when they reached landfall. He mostly listened. There were no exploding mountains in his backstory, though the other men at least appreciated the scraps he¡¯d gotten into as a kid in the Flats, and then a student at the University. He went to bed that evening with a smile on his face, and the hope that his luck would hold and there would be no storms on their journey.


    *******


    Annette walked into the kitchen staring down at the list in her hand. ¡°Esther, we need to talk about the ordering for the next month.¡± When she didn¡¯t hear anything in response she looked up to find Esther staring at her strangely, Lucy sitting at a table in the far corner munching on a cookie while flipping through a children¡¯s book.


    ¡°I know, sweetheart. That¡¯s why we spoke about it yesterday.¡±


    Annette looked back at her list and flipped the page over where ¡®discuss supply orders with Esther¡¯ was neatly crossed off. ¡°Right, of course, my apologies Esther.¡±


    ¡°Not at all, dear. Now sit down and drink a cup of tea before you run off to the next thing on that list of yours.¡±


    She let the mothering happen, and sank down beside Lucy, a cup of tea appearing instantly in front of her. The rich aroma seeped through her, relaxing muscles she hadn¡¯t realized were clenched. A cookie was thrust into her face and she ate that too. After a few minutes of contented silence, snack fully consumed, she rose to leave.


    ¡°Thank you for the reality check, Esther.¡±


    ¡°Any time Annette.¡± The older woman paused in her stirring and came over to give Annette a firm hug. ¡°We¡¯ll all miss you. But we¡¯ll also all survive the experience. Take some time to enjoy the trip and see something wonderful, okay?¡±


    Annette could only nod in agreement and hug the woman one more time.


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m off to set the chore list, wish me luck.¡±


    ¡°Good luck,¡± Esther said with a wink.


    A few hours later, as she was wrapping up for the day, George slipped into her office and sat down across from her. She didn¡¯t know how to respond. George had been polite in their interactions thus far but she couldn¡¯t recall speaking more than a sentence at a time. Thinking back on it, she wasn¡¯t sure anyone in the sect had. Having a former member of a secret Laskarian magic police wandering the sect was uncomfortable at best. Guilt sent blood rushing to her face. She was the Quartermaster, and she wouldn¡¯t be able to say what George spent his days doing.


    When the silence stretched past awkward and into confusing, she had to say something. ¡°Good afternoon.¡±


    ¡°Good afternoon,¡± the quiet man replied. He said nothing after that.


    ¡°Can I help you?¡± Annette finally asked after another painful stretch of silence.


    ¡°You are going to explore the nearby hidden realm, yes? I would like to request to join the expedition.¡±


    His gaze went back and forth, eyes flitting to Annette, then around the room, then back to Annette, but otherwise perfectly still. It was an embarrassing moment when she realized he was nervous, but the lack of change in his body language was hard to read. Then she felt guilty again for being embarrassed, because she knew exactly how he learned that skill.


    ¡°Why do you want to come?¡±


    ¡°I have been completing small tasks for the guild in the past months, alongside my chores. That has been somewhat routine and I would like to try something new.¡± There was a flash of something in his eyes that Annette couldn¡¯t quite place. ¡°I would like to see magic that is simply existing, and not bent for anything terrible.¡± He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with how much that revealed. ¡°I would also hope to prove myself as a loyal member of the sect.¡±


    Laurel had told her to bring someone else if she wanted. And it meant she wouldn¡¯t have to be so nervous about traveling alone. ¡°Very well. We leave the day after tomorrow, at dawn.¡±


    He stood and gave her a half bow. ¡°I will be ready.¡±


    She slumped back in the chair, running her hands across the velvet upholstery. Strange, very strange, but maybe a good thing all told. She ran through the list on her desk one more time before heading down to dinner. There was one more task to complete before she left and she would tackle it tomorrow.


    *******


    It was only mid afternoon when Annette found herself at her parents¡¯ house. She watched the spring flowers her mother dutifully planted in the window boxes each year stretch towards the sun, and noticed how odd it was to be back during daylight. For the last year her time had been so taken up that she¡¯d barely managed dinner every other week, arriving well into the evening and barely staying to talk afterwards.


    Her mother was in her workshop, surrounded by dozens of dresses and jackets hanging on racks her father had cobbled together years ago with scrap wood from the manufacturers¡¯ district.


    ¡°Hi Mama,¡± she announced her presence.


    ¡°My baby, coming to see me in the middle of the day! Is everything alright?¡±


    Annette reveled in the hug, breathing in the floral scent that somehow always clung to her mother despite living in a massive city, surrounded by stone and wood and smoke.


    ¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong. I have news is all. Where¡¯s dad?¡±


    ¡°Oh, Johnny¡¯s ship got in a few days early. He and your father left a little while ago to have lunch at the club. And you know he and the other old men can talk for ages.


    ¡°You have no idea how much good it does my heart to see him walking around and smiling, all because of you, my love.¡±


    ¡°Mama, stop.¡± That much praise was too difficult to take this early. ¡°Laurel did the magic, not me.¡±


    ¡°And she would never have heard about us at all if not for you.¡± Her mother squeezed one  more time and dropped the hug. ¡°Now pick up a needle and help me with these, then we¡¯ll get started on dinner.¡±


    Her father and wayward brother got back just in time for the roast to come out of the oven. Steam scented with rosemary and lamb had Annette salivating. Esther was an amazing cook, but something about her mother¡¯s kitchen would always live just a little bit deeper.


    ¡°Look what the tide washed in,¡± she said, once her older brother walked through the door. It had been months since she¡¯d seen John, but he was the same as ever. A full head taller than her, with dark eyes that saw more than the rest of his face ever let on, the oiled skin on his shaved head reflecting the lamplight revealing his only vanity, and an absolutely out of control beard covering the lower half of his face in bushy, tightly coiled black hair.


    ¡°Don¡¯t pretend you aren¡¯t happy to see me, Annie,¡± he answered with a smile, sweeping her up into a hug and swinging her around the room.


    She jabbed her fingers into his ribs in retaliation for the nickname. He dropped her with a laugh and they sniped back and forth on the way into the kitchen, where her mother had everything already set out for dinner.


    They eagerly started on the roast. The herbed lamb was one of her mother¡¯s specialties, and it lived up to the reputation it had throughout the neighborhood. Roasted potatoes and spring carrots soaked up the juices. There was silence only broken by the scraping of forks and knives on plates while they ate. Her mother, however, was not one to drop any hint of important news about her children.


    ¡°We¡¯re all here now, tell us your news sweetheart.¡±


    Annette swallowed the bite she was chewing and decided to get things over with as quickly as possible. She could do damage control after. ¡°I¡¯m going away for a few weeks. I told you about the hidden realm the kids from the sect found a while back. Laurel thinks visiting will be good for my cultivation so I¡¯m going to head there for a while to practice. I leave tomorrow morning.¡±


    ¡°Is that the place where all those people got stuck and almost starved?! Why do you need to go there? I thought the magic around the city was supposed to be great, that¡¯s why Laurel¡¯s here in the first place isn¡¯t it?¡± Her mother was nearly frantic and Annette could sympathize.


    ¡°It¡¯s stable now that they assembled the doorway, so I won¡¯t get stuck.¡±


    Her father was frowning. ¡°That¡¯s far away. Will Laurel or anyone be able to help if something goes wrong?¡±


    She pursed her lips to keep the first reply that sprung to mind from escaping. Her family loved her and that was where this was coming from. They didn¡¯t think she was incapable. Even if she was a cultivator now and had practiced self defense moves every morning for months, she was still their daughter and they were allowed to feel worried. It didn¡¯t make it less hurtful. Annette took a deep breath.


    ¡°There are soldiers monitoring it if we really need help.¡±


    ¡°We? Are some of the others going with you?¡±


    ¡°One of our members yes, a combat specialist.¡± This part was more delicate. Her parents were good people, and generally open minded, but a Laskarian with magic guns was not who they would choose as her traveling companion.


    John, who had been silent during her parents'' fretting, nodded along. ¡°You said tomorrow morning?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll be there. I¡¯m still mostly packed so it shouldn¡¯t be too much to get together.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what? Why? You have a job.¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon Annie. I can¡¯t just let you go explore some dangerous magic thing alone. And I have shore leave for the next few months to offset all the long hauls from the last few years. It will be fun, we haven¡¯t done anything together in ages.¡±


    She knew her brother, and she knew he wouldn¡¯t back down. ¡°Fine, be at the sect house at dawn. And don¡¯t call me Annie¡±

 Ch 86 - Going to the Woods to Visit Deliberately

    Head thrown back, arms wide open, Rebecca just breathed. All the stress that had built up since getting back from their adventure started melting away the moment the city was out of sight. The walks with Flint and Leander had kept her from going crazy, but the open skies and untamed land was fueling her soul, giving her something she hadn¡¯t fully realized had been missing. Her breaths came easier, and  a few times in the last day she¡¯d realized she was grinning wide for no reason.


    They reached a stretch of forest around mid morning, and Rebecca plunged in without a pause, Helene close behind her. She was carrying her staff, slung over one shoulder but she wasn¡¯t worried. There was nothing nearby that would cause them trouble. And if something did sneak up on them, she would be able to defend herself. Since getting back to Verilia, Laurel had found some exercises for her to practice in order to compensate for the missing fingers. That thought dimmed her smile. She was still getting used to the loss. Every so often she would try to grab for something and realize she couldn¡¯t grip it in the way she meant to. Worse were the times she would swear she could feel the fingers still there, or when a phantom of the pain from when they were sliced off would rip through her mind.


    A noise from Flint broke her out of the spiral and brought her back to the present. The sun was shining through the treetops, full of buds and promises of new growth. The pair stopped to watch as a bird tended to its nest on a nearby branch before moving on.


    Rebecca let her feet wander without direction until they came up on a cluster of orange flowers, growing in a small clearing. The four pointed petals glistened with the remnants of morning dew and shimmered in her mana-sight.


    ¡°We need to take one of those,¡± she announced.


    Kneeling, Rebecca carefully pushed her hands into the dirt, feeling for nodules on the roots and easing the whole plant out of the ground without breaking it. As gently as she could, she brushed off the remaining dirt, and placed the flower into one of the silk bags Laurel had sent them out with, placing it with the others in her pack. Before she stood she pressed a tiny strand of mana into the earth where she¡¯d pulled the flower from.


    ¡°How are you finding these, and how did you know about the things on the roots?¡± Helene asked.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know those flowers were there. And I would have just plucked a stem if we had stumbled across them.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Rebecca wasn¡¯t sure what to say. ¡°I could just tell they were there. I think it''s because of the mana aspect. We¡¯re in the wild so I can tell what¡¯s around more.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense.¡±


    This was more conversation than they¡¯d had in the two days since leaving the sect and Rebecca was gripped with the desire to keep it going.


    ¡°Umm, have you aspected your mana yet?¡±


    ¡°Not yet. Almost though. We got a bunch of contribution points for the hidden realm, and defending the city during the beast wave. Enough for one of the more common elemental aspecting items. I want to start with water so there are a few to choose from. I would have already done it but it kind of got delayed with all the challenges.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    The flash of sunlight they walked through highlighted Helene¡¯s red hair as she shook her head at Rebecca¡¯s half-formed apology.


    ¡°It¡¯s worked out for the best. Laurel¡¯s doing that class when we get back, and said everyone could schedule some time to talk it through.¡±


    ¡°Why water then?¡±


    Helene didn¡¯t answer right away and Rebecca felt nervous she¡¯d overstepped. Eventually, when they were almost out of their little patch of forest, the other girl spoke up again.


    ¡°My family moved to Verilia from a midsize town called Colmare. It¡¯s way in the interior, totally landlocked. My brother and sister were so angry about the move but I didn¡¯t mind. My mom would always tell me I was her little fish because I always went with the flow.


    ¡°Then we got here and I saw the ocean for the first time. It was incredible. I would beg my mom every chance we got to go to the shore. I met Gabrielle a while after that and we became friends. Finished school, got a job, normal you know?


    ¡°But I guess I never stopped being the little fish. I just let life push me along. I hated my job, I didn¡¯t really like the guy I was seeing. I barely realized how unhappy I was becoming. Gabrielle noticed, kept telling me to get rid of the guy or find a new job. It¡¯s hard to change what you¡¯re doing, especially when there¡¯s nothing exactly wrong with your life, even if nothing is exactly right either.


    ¡°We heard about the sect. Well, I mean, everyone heard about the sect, but Gabrielle showed up one day and said she was applying, and that if I was a good friend I would go with her. And you know the rest.¡±


    ¡°Did it work? Are you happy now?¡±


    Helene looked surprised at the question, then a wry grin spread across her face. ¡°I¡¯m fucking fantastic now. I love being in the sect. Stars above, I can do real-life magic.


    ¡°But that¡¯s why I picked water. Because it¡¯s easy for me to coast along, but I want to be able to change things up as well. Plus watching the ocean is still one of my favorite things to do.¡±


    They stopped one more time for Rebecca to harvest a stalk of mana-infused grass before the conversation started up again.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re happy in the sect,¡± she said.


    ¡°Me too.¡±


    They reached an open area and decided to stop for lunch, eating some travel bread and dried meat and fruit Esther had packed for them.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°You know, you and Gabrielle are a lot alike. I bet you¡¯ll be friends once you¡¯ve gotten past this whole thing.¡±


    Rebecca glared. Some things were just too far.


    **********


    ¡°We¡¯ll keep going this way. There should be another waystation to stop at for the evening, then we¡¯ll swing along the connecting road back to the Via Merista and then back to the sect from there.¡±


    Leander nodded along with the plan. Laurel¡¯s instructions made it clear he was supposed to listen to what Gabrielle wanted to do, so he would. He thought they might find more stuff away from the road but his traveling companion had told him as they left that she ¡°hated camping with a passion¡±, so they were sticking to the major routes with waystations for the trade caravans or towns with inns they could sleep in. Neither of them was particularly confident leading the other out into the wilderness. They trudged along, spiritual senses extended.


    Just before they stopped for the day, a tiny fluctuation in mana led them into the trees on the side of the North Road. A few meters in they came across a patch of mushrooms. Leander tensed and pulled out a knife. He grabbed Gabrielle before she could get closer and pulled her behind him.


    ¡°What is it, what¡¯s wrong?¡± she asked, looking around frantically.


    Pulling his shirt up to cover his nose, he eased closer to the mushroom and poked it with the knife. Nothing. He tried again, slashing harder and then jumping back. When nothing happened again he waved Gabrielle forward and fished out his speaking stone.


    ¡°Mushrooms can be treacherous.¡±


    ¡°Okaaay? You good if I take one?¡±


    Leander nodded and relaxed, resheathing the knife. Gabrielle sliced off a mushroom and put it in one of their foraging bags, then they were on their way again.


    He felt vaguely like he should be talking but couldn¡¯t figure out what to say. That had been the feeling for the entire trip so far. A cultivator didn¡¯t give up though so he pulled his necklace back out. He may as well get answers to questions that had been nagging at him for weeks.


    ¡°Why are you and Rebecca fighting?¡±


    His companion gaped at him. Maybe he should have started with something else. No, cultivators weren¡¯t afraid of asking hard questions. They walked on in silence for another half a kilometer before Gabrielle decided to answer.


    ¡°You both, she, it¡¯s just, ugh. Look, you both got in early, so you got to go on this pre-packaged adventure. With private cultivation lessons, and Rebecca even got a rare natural treasure to aspect her mana, and you made powerful connections, and there were prizes from that dungeon.


    ¡°It¡¯s a lot. And then you get back and Rebecca is walking around like she¡¯s better than the rest of us. Hmph.


    They sped up for a while after that. Gabrielle¡¯s agitation was coming out in their speed and Leander decided not to respond. After all, there wasn¡¯t much to say. He didn¡¯t agree, but he wasn¡¯t going to be able to explain it right. Rebecca was just figuring out how to exist when she wasn¡¯t stuck under someone¡¯s thumb, and still processing the effects of the Heart. Maybe the competitions would help with that.


    ************


    Annette couldn¡¯t be more thrilled to be at the turnoff for the hidden realm. She had slept outside for the night before, the fact that there were technically walls in that waystation didn¡¯t negate that they were in the woods. There were bugs, and too much silence, and two awkward men stomping around. She had briefly considered that it was some sort of convoluted punishment Laurel came up with, but discarded the idea. Laurel probably hadn¡¯t had an uncomfortable sleep since she started being able to carry a full bedroom set anywhere she wanted in that cursedly useful tattoo. Or she would have just meditated all night if she didn¡¯t want to sleep. The fact that it was horrible for Annette wouldn¡¯t even have crossed the sectmasters¡¯ mind.


    Her companions weren¡¯t helping matters. Annette was ultimately thankful they were both there, but George still seemed slightly afraid to speak and John was quiet at the best of times. At least when it came to the politics and social sparring that Annette was interested in. It didn¡¯t matter, they were almost there. The old village site was only a few kilometers off the main road, a distance they would cover soon enough and then, blessedly, more people.


    They rounded a bend and came upon the military encampment. A dozen tents in a pair of neat rows, and a couple of buildings, the wooden sides unweathered, populated the clearing, no sign of the village that had previously existed. Soldiers in uniform milled about on breaks or walked purposefully towards their assigned tasks. She nodded at the display of efficient organization. Their small group had been noticed, but not stopped, on the way in. She may have slacked in her cultivation but she was still able to feel the sentries stationed along the path. A young soldier approached at a light jog, and Annette stepped forward to greet them.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am, sirs, how can I help you?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re representatives from the Eternal Archive. I have here a permit from the commanders at Fort Sarken to allow exploration of the hidden realm.¡±


    The young woman took the paper and gave it a cursory read. ¡°You¡¯d better talk to Captain Hunter, follow me.¡±


    They were led to one of the few solid buildings, the scent of fresh cut wood still lingering in the entryway.  A middle-aged woman with eyes sharp enough to cut stood at a roughly assembled wooden table, flanked by other officers as they looked down at a half-finished map.


    ¡°Captain, representatives of the Eternal Archive, here to study the transliminal space.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, private. Dismissed.¡±


    Their escort hustled out of the room, leaving Annette, George, and John facing the captain. Not clear on the etiquette, Annette went for universally polite and bowed her head. ¡°Good afternoon, Captain.¡±


    The other woman didn¡¯t feel the need to adhere to pleasantries. ¡°Last time we had some of you come down it was children, flailing in the dark and getting lucky enough to find a lantern.¡±


    Annette kept her bristling to a minimum as she responded, though privately she thought their initiates had performed better than the soldiers under Captain Hunter¡¯s command. ¡°Our sect members walked into an unknown situation and got everyone out of danger. It is our intent to explore further now that a safe egress point has been established.¡±


    She caught a wry smile flitting across the captain¡¯s face before she schooled her expression. ¡°Very well. We¡¯ve been cautious in exploring so far, but I¡¯m sure the esteemed members of the Eternal Archive are more than up to the challenge.¡±


    ¡°Ahem. Thank you for your consideration. Though if you have information you would be willing to share, we would be willing to collaborate when we return.¡±


    The captain snorted. ¡°Private, give them a copy of the map we have so far.¡±


    One of the silent aides complied, handing over a rolled sheet of thick, sturdy paper. Annette unrolled it and angled it up so her companions could see. It was a mess. Arrows and dotted lines covered the entire thing, with no discernible pattern.


    ¡°I see, thank you.¡±


    That finally got a full smile from Captain Hunter. Her posture loosened and she clasped her hands behind her back in an unconscious mimicry of a parade rest. ¡°You¡¯ll see when you get in there. Something is still messing around with distances, and sometimes space still wraps around on itself. We haven¡¯t had anyone get stuck again but it¡¯s not just a jaunt in some pretty woods.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure we appreciate the warning,¡± Annette said.


    As they turned to leave, John spoke up for the first time. ¡°What happened to all the people that lived here? Are they inside the space now?¡±


    Captain Hunter¡¯s face gentled, just a fraction but it made the woman look fifteen years younger. ¡°No. We¡¯ve provided relocation funds for the former residents but it was decided that until an access system and full mapping of the transliminal space can be established, civilians won¡¯t be permitted permanent residence in the vicinity.¡±


    After a few more pleasantries they left and found their guide from earlier waiting outside to lead them to the portal. It was one thing to hear the kids describe it and quite another to see it in person. The creamy jade stone was lit from within by streams of gold dust, swirling up and down the posts. A veil of the same gold dust blocked the view of the other side.


    She took a deep breath, then another. All she had to do was walk through, but her feet remained firmly planted. Laurel and Martin both assured her it would be fine. Even the mundane soldiers had gone in and out without getting stuck. There was no need to worry. She still didn¡¯t step forward.


    ¡°Alright Annie?¡± she heard her brother whisper from behind her. Her brother, who had come on this trip to protect her because no one believed she could handle herself. A fire ignited deep in her gut.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    She took a step forward and passed through the veil.


    The other side was breathtaking. The lush greenery she¡¯d heard of was there, with the mist above the treetops making the space feel like walking through a dream. It was even more stunning than the others had described. Miniature waterfalls started midair and fell onto floating chunks of moss-clad stone before splashing into a network of rills and streams swirling around the forest floor. Floating specks of light merged with the water, a colorful glow pulsing like heartbeats. Flowers in every shade glittered like gemstones, while birds called from the treetops. The only interruption to the fairy tale were the remains of Salgrove.


    The homes and shops of a prospering, if tiny, village were spread around the portal, abandoned. A testament to hopes and stability ripped away without warning, from a world that was changing around them.


    Two guards flanked the portal on this side. They watched Annette and the boys with hands on weapons, but made no move to confront them.


    ¡°We¡¯re magic-users visiting from the Eternal Archive in the capital, here to explore with permission from Fort Sarken and Captain Hunter,¡± Annette told them, once more showing their papers.


    The soldier on the left grunted. ¡°You can use the houses if you want, though most folks feel weird sleeping in here. Guard rotations every 8 hours.¡±


    She thanked them and led her brother and sect mate into the ruined village and their new temporary home.

 Ch 87 - The Grind

    ¡°Laurel, this week¡¯s meat delivery was missing a few things, and the vegetable wholesaler was two days late.¡±


    ¡°Sorry about that Esther, I¡¯ll drop in and talk to them.¡±


    ¡°Thank you dear. I hate to add to the lists but we really need it resolved today.¡±


    Laurel stopped her march towards the stairs and turned back around. ¡°I¡¯m on it.¡±


    Then she was out the door again. Despite the fact she had already confirmed orders with their suppliers earlier in the week. And that their order didn¡¯t actually change week to week. But why would they ever be able to deliver on time without her input? Really that was asking too much.


    Not bothering with the normal cabs or a long walk, Laurel launched herself into the air and towards their food supplier¡¯s warehouse. On the way she forcibly unclenched her jaw. In the few minutes it took to master herself she had arrived.


    Spotting her prey, she slammed down in front of a short man with the kind of broad shoulders that came from a lifetime of labor. His minions scattered, and the man himself went pale and backed up towards the wall.


    ¡°Mister Hillion! What a coincidence running into you again so soon. You know, I seem to have run into a problem. Even though we confirmed earlier, there was an issue with the order for the sect house. Now that I have you here, do you have a moment to discuss?¡±


    Was she shouting? Yes. Was she going to stop? No.


    ¡°Ah, yes, our deepest apologies, sectmaster. An error on the part of one of our newer clerks,¡± the man stammered. ¡°Of course we will make it right by the end of the day.¡±


    ¡°How good to hear! I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll talk again next week.¡±


    She didn¡¯t wait for a reply before she was off again, back towards the sect house.


    This time, she made it all the way up the first flight of stairs before anyone found her. Cooper happened to enter the hallway at the same time as her, carrying an open book in one hand and an apple in the other.


    ¡°Laurel! I¡¯m so glad I ran into you. I was working through this instruction manual and I wanted to get your opinion.¡±


    Laurel kept her sigh internal as she ushered him back into the classroom.


    ¡°Show me.¡±


    Cooper handed over the book. He munched through his apple while he explained his thoughts. ¡°The description of the cultivation is incredible. The cultivator narrating was able to turn a regular mountain into a volcano in order to entomb the enemy stronghold. Then turned the area into an inland sea to keep people out. Not to mention the traps and monsters he left behind.


    ¡°It¡¯s incredible. I didn¡¯t think one person could do so many different kinds of magic.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because they can¡¯t,¡± Laurel said, breaking the boy''s heart. ¡°This is an old story, but not one that ever happened. Everyone has to choose a path and walk it; eventually everyone chooses what to cultivate and who to be.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Laurel grimaced at the sad expression looking back at her.


    ¡°Of course, that was foolish of me.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. The author retold the story in the first person so it reads like a journal. Anyone could have made the mistake.¡±


    ¡°Right, yeah, that makes sense. I guess it¡¯s obvious now that you say it, I just kind of wanted it to be true.¡±


    Laurel clapped him on the shoulder, having to reach up a ways to do so. ¡°You¡¯ll find your path, Coop. And right now, my path leads to my office, so I have to run.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Don¡¯t you have a meeting at Fort Sarken this afternoon?¡±


    She ducked to the window to get a glimpse of the sun and swore.


    ¡°Nevermind, my path leads to Fort Sarken. I¡¯ll be back for dinner.¡±  With a backwards wave she was off again. This time to speak to General Mansfeln. If she kept the man from ranting about all the problems she was causing, she might even keep the promise to be home for dinner.


    The flight to the fort was quick, and she was ushered through the labyrinth of administrative offices without delay, to find Manfeln and his usual crop of staff spread out. Curson was there as well, a pen holding up the usual no-nonsense expression.


    ¡°Glad you could finally join us,¡± Mansfeln grunted out. The man hadn¡¯t forgiven Laurel for missing the last beast wave, or for making him deal with Martin for months.


    She ignored the snark and greeted them both. Madam Curson made a few hand signals that were surely meant to be subtle, and a few of the hangers-on left the room. Manfeln just barked at his subordinates to leave, and afterwards only a small crowd remained.


    ¡°We have something of a delicate situation, Sectmaster,¡± Curson said, ever the model of politeness. ¡°There have been a few thefts in the Lapis district. That alone would be unfortunate but not unusual. However, the victims are claiming the perpetrators used magic.¡±


    ¡°Did they?¡± Laurel asked. The full cultivators in the city were accounted for, but that didn¡¯t preclude a mortal with the ability to intermittently control their mana, or a quirk of birth lending someone an advantage. She could name half a dozen families she¡¯d encountered over the years with some form of mana manipulation that wouldn¡¯t quite register as cultivation to her senses.


    ¡°If they did, it was poorly done,¡± Curson continued. ¡°The thief was apprehended quickly, and there have been no reports of anything magical since.¡±


    This time, she didn¡¯t bother holding in the sigh. ¡°Why am I here then? I know the both of you appreciate the demands of a busy schedule¡­¡±


    ¡°Just because this one wasn¡¯t one of your people, doesn¡¯t mean the next one won¡¯t be. Stars, we all know you recruited a merry band of street rats when you started,¡± Mansfeln spat at her. ¡°What are we supposed to do to control someone that can shoot fire out of their eyes, or whatever nonsense comes next?¡±


    ¡°Now, Bastien, that was unkind. What we mean to say is that while we are sure no members of the Eternal Archive would do anything untoward, the concern about containing a rogue magic-user is a valid one.¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Laurel held her breath and counted to ten, following Annette¡¯s advice on dealing with bureaucracy without relying on lightning as a bargaining tool. Then twenty and thirty when it didn¡¯t work. When she was certain she could speak without ranting she gave them an answer.


    ¡°If said person was an official resident of a City, and had bonded to the Core, then suppressing their cultivation would be easy. Of course that would require Verilia to actually be a City where residents were officially bonded. Since it was decided, for reasons, that the palace would not be forcing the point, our options are limited.


    ¡°Without that capability you will need a cultivator of a higher strength to forcibly slow the thief¡¯s mana flows, or a suppression formation of some sort. I¡¯m sure the sect would be willing to sell some weaker, portable versions to the city.


    ¡°Was there anything else?¡±


    Mansfeln looked like he was sucking on a lemon but shook his head.


    ¡°We want to help, you know. We just have to work within the constraints of our position. No one wants to create a City and destroy the country in the process.¡± Curson¡¯s words were polite but there was a reprimand not at all hidden in the tone.


    ¡°I know,¡± Laurel sighed. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t make it less frustrating.¡±


    With a few smaller administrative questions out of the way, Laurel flew back to the sect.


    The sun had set by the time she was walking through the doors for the third time that day. Clinking forks led her to the dining hall, where most of the sect was halfway through dinner. She slumped into her chair at the head of the table, and helped herself. The chairs to either side, usually full of Adam and Annette sniping back and forth good-naturedly or Martin¡¯s opinions on local entertainments were sitting empty, keeping her too far away to join any of the conversations without making it awkward. Instead she bolted down the admittedly delicious dinner and stood back up to get to her office. Then sat back down again as a few of the novices wanted to know when they would be allowed to open their meridians and she had to explain, again, that they needed to be able to actively cultivate for long enough to get through the entire process without stopping.


    Hours later, she sat down at her desk. The moonlight filtering in through the window illuminated two sheets of paper sitting in the center, and a neat stack of newspapers off to the side, where she¡¯d set them before breakfast that morning. A cup of room temperature tea sat on the other end, staining a ring around the cup from being undisturbed all day.


    Laurel dragged her hands down her face and pulled the paper closer. It was time to get started on the task list for the day. She may have been overly ambitious in taking on all the sect officer roles at once, by herself, with about five minutes of preparation.


    ********


    The man across from George was an enigma. They had exchanged less than a few hundred words in the handful of days since leaving the sect. He couldn¡¯t figure it out. Did John hate him or did the man really just not have anything to say? It was a mystery, one he would gladly put up with. This was the first time since arriving that George had felt secure enough to leave Verilia, and if things were a bit uncomfortable he would deal with it. He had been through far worse. The fact he could even notice the awkwardness was a testament to how lucky he¡¯d been to join the sect. And that Laurel had decided not to gut him.


    The giant in question was whittling a surprisingly lifelike statue of one of the birds that lived in the hidden realm. The four wings were each articulated in mid-flight, with the long, trailing tail fronds carved into a gentle wave. ¡®Bird¡¯ might be stretching it a bit but they didn¡¯t have a name for the things.


    George¡¯s attention drifted back to his own project. The wooden case in his lap held two trays of bullets for his pistols. Over their breaks he had already infused the first tray and it was time to start on the second. He pulled one bullet out, careful not to jostle the others, and held it cupped between his hands. An effort of will and years of practice slowed his breathing pattern. His thoughts slowed and he dropped into the syrupy space of cultivating meditation. The meridians in his body were most defined in his head and hands, from spending so much time focusing his magic through the guns. When he was one with the rhythm of his mana flows, he directed a small amount out into the bullet. Just a tendril, a drop, the barest hint of his magic infused into the metal casing. As best as he was able, he held the mana in the metal and out of the powder.


    After another few breaths it was done. He blinked his eyes back into focus to find John staring straight at him. George flinched back just a hair, but the slight smirk on the other man¡¯s face told him his response was noticed. Taking quick stock of his surroundings, he saw the bird was finished and John had moved on to carving one of the stick creatures.


    ¡°Got something to say, baldy?¡±


    That prompted a genuine smile. ¡°You were clutching a bullet and muttering for the better part of an hour. That some Laskarian ritual you use before you invade a new nation?¡± His smile turned slightly feral.


    ¡°No it''s more for one on one duels, that kind of thing,¡± George said.


    That surprised a genuine laugh from the taciturn man as he looked back to his carving. Suddenly, George wasn¡¯t quite so okay with awkward silence and he decided to keep the conversation going.


    ¡°I put a little magic in the metal and it lets me push the bullet a bit once it''s in the air.¡±


    ¡°Been in a few scraps with pirates where that would have come in useful.¡±


    It was George¡¯s turn to snort a laugh. ¡°I bet. I asked Martin about it and he called it ¡®some sort of weird proto-enchanting, mostly useless but not bad for someone untrained¡¯ before he made me make a dozen glow stones for ¡°mana control practice¡±.¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t met Martin yet. Not sure about the guy.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s alright, for the most part. Kind of weird but I guess that makes sense when you¡¯re that old.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Annette?¡±


    John pointed with his carving knife. Straining his neck, George could just make out Annette on the edge of the village, in a meditative pose, eyes closed, deep in cultivation. Settling back down, he saw John was once more enthralled by his carving project. He would do another few bullets and then start on their dinner.


    The stew was passable, but even his short time in the sect had spoiled him when it came to food. Shaking off that thought, he moved to break the silence.


    ¡°How¡¯s the meditating going?¡±


    Annette took a sip of tea before responding. George would never understand the Meristan tolerance for hot drinks and hot food. ¡°It¡¯s going well so far. I¡¯ll have to admit to Laurel that it was a good idea to come here. But I think to get the most out of it we¡¯ll need to go further. I can tell there¡¯s some sort of warping in the mana further away from the door, but I can¡¯t quite reach it.


    ¡°That is, if it''s okay with both of you.¡±


    George glanced back at the crystal portal, standing unsupported a hundred meters away, flanked by the ever-present guards. No part of him wanted to let it out of his eyesight. He¡¯d come for a little adventure, and to get away from the city for a while. And he¡¯d accomplished that. Why risk anything further?


    ¡°¡®Course we don¡¯t mind, Annie,¡± John said without looking up from his carving. ¡°Here to see something amazing, aren¡¯t we?¡±


    George could hardly contradict that without looking like a coward. Instead he just waved his hand in agreement. ¡°We¡¯ll find some more strange beasts for your brother to carve.¡±


    They made plans to hike out further the next day before spending more time on their individual pursuits before bed. If they were going further than the soldiers he would need as many mana-infused bullets as possible.


    **********


    According to his companions, they had been within spitting distance of shore for hours, sailing parallel to the coast. All Adam could see was the flat expanse of the ocean, dark water frothing in the high winds. The same view they¡¯d had for days.


    ¡°Almost. Just need to find a place we''re least likely to get noticed to take her in,¡± Martin shouted from the ship¡¯s wheel. It was the first time Adam had seen him steer manually rather than with artificial currents that propelled them across the ocean.


    ¡°Can you really feel for individual people from this far away?¡± Adam had to ask. His spiritual senses extended a respectable couple of dozen meters at his absolute farthest. If being able to feel a shore so far away it wasn¡¯t even in view was the goal, he wasn¡¯t sure he was ever getting there.


    Devon harrumphed beside him. ¡°Hardly. A water cultivator on the ocean is a threat, but not that much of one. One of the enchantments built into the boat is acting as an amplifier.


    ¡°It¡¯s an impressive piece of work, but the credit goes to the enchanter, not the meathead at the helm.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not a meathead. He dragged me to art galleries and symphony concerts constantly back in the city.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen him try and wrestle a dragon,¡± Devon countered.


    Adam had nothing to say to that. ¡°He¡¯s not just a meathead.¡±


    The man in question appeared to have found an inlet that met with his exacting standards, the ship slowly turned west and picked up speed. Martin joined them at the bow.


    ¡°I¡¯m taking her in. Now, we need to set some expectations.¡± Martin looked straight at Adam when he said that.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been talking about this for weeks, I know what to expect.¡±


    Martin waved in a vague pattern that was more an imitation of a conductor than anything useful. ¡°There¡¯s knowing and then there¡¯s knowing.¡±


    Adam tried to protest but Devon cut him off.


    ¡°Shockingly, he¡¯s right.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not shocking, asshole.¡±


    ¡°Whatever,¡± Devon continued. ¡°When you¡¯re a non-combatant on a mission like this for the first time, you just can¡¯t really understand what is coming. We¡¯re going to fight people. We¡¯ll probably kill some. It¡¯s not the goal, but the chance of smoothly slipping in and out with a massively valuable legacy stone without being caught is laughable.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Adam said. ¡°What do I need to know then?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk if you can help it,¡± Devon answered.


    Martin nodded along. ¡°He¡¯s right. Your Laskarian is passable but the accent is obvious.¡±


    ¡°My accent?¡± Adam sputtered. ¡°What about your accents? There¡¯s no way you two will pass as locals.¡±


    ¡°We,¡± Devon pointed between the two of them, ¡°are master cultivators. We can pull the language and the local dialect out of people¡¯s heads.¡±


    ¡°Wait what? Have you done that with me?¡±


    ¡°No need, we already speak the languages you know.¡± Martin answered, not helpfully. ¡°Next thing, we need you to get more used to touching in public.¡± He accompanied that statement with an exaggerated leer.


    ¡°That¡¯s one of the cultural trends that survived the mana drought,¡± Devon elaborated. ¡°Alrasians were always touching, when they greeted anyone, just standing around, whatever.¡±


    ¡°Gross,¡± Adam said.


    ¡°Just follow our lead and don¡¯t flinch when someone goes in for a hug and we¡¯ll be good,¡± Martin added.


    ¡°Fine. Just fine. Anything else? Should I be communicating only in Laskarian semaphore perhaps to make sure they don¡¯t spot me?¡±


    Devon¡¯s lips twitched and Martin chuckled before turning serious once more.


    ¡°No flags needed, but there is one more thing and you aren¡¯t going to like it.¡± His hand waved in an elaborate flourish and a straight razor popped into existence. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to shave.¡±

 Ch 88 - The Fabric of Reality

    The waterfalls didn¡¯t disappear further from the portal to the hidden realm, but they were further apart. By the time they had gone half a kilometer into the forest the falling water was only noticeable by the soft tinkling sounds drifting on the wind.


    Forest was perhaps a misnomer. Annette trailed her finger across the bark of the behemoth of a tree she was leaning against. The oddity had snuck up on them. It was John, the one who spent most of his time at sea or in a city, that noticed the anomaly. The trees of a natural forest grew according to the random whims of nature. In contrast, the forests of the hidden realm were a labyrinth. Wide shaded lanes were open between some of the trees, in a twisting maze of unnaturally clear paths. The shade-dappled golden light made it reminiscent of a walk in a well-manicured park. Attempting to leave the paths was a different story. Light distorted between the branches, roots appeared out of nowhere to trip them and the feeling of being watched was nearly overwhelming. The two attempts they¡¯d made to investigate convinced her to stay on the paths for now.


    It didn¡¯t matter, the mana currents she could feel just walking along the paths were inspiring enough on their own. The flows around Verilia were a series of controlled rivers. They were powerful but predictable, after Laurel¡¯s work with the Core. Anchoring them with natural treasures made things even more stable. The hidden realm was the opposite. Like the waterfalls scattered about, the flows seemed to start and stop from nowhere. They twisted and stretched in ways her spiritual sense couldn¡¯t fully comprehend.


    George had looked nauseous since they entered the forest but Annette loved it. She could feel herself getting closer to something with each day in the hidden realm. The meditations were frustrating, but they worked. Cycling the mana here prodded her towards the spatial affinity she was so desperately seeking. It was long, boring work, but every evening when she ached from sitting still for so long she just pictured Laurel¡¯s tattoo and the unstoppable economic force they would be as a sect if she could make magical storage devices.


    Her mind was spiraling further into fantasies so it was time to stop for the morning.


    She stood and stretched her back. Hopping up and down while she swung her arms to get herself limbered up, she saw her brother and George lounging a dozen meters away, working on their own projects and grunting back and forth.


    George noticed her approach first, the man¡¯s sense enhancement was uncanny. Their first morning out from the city she¡¯d seen him scare off a snake neither John nor her had realized was sitting in the road.


    ¡°Did you figure out what¡¯s so weird with the paths?¡±


    ¡°I think so. If I¡¯m right, they link up in certain places. If you walk through the right spot you''ll end up somewhere else in the maze. Maybe. Something to do with the interrupted mana flows that are obviously still flowing.¡±


    Her brother grunted while making a carving of another four winged bird species they¡¯d spied in the treetops.


    ¡°I think we should keep going though, see more of the effects.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the boss,¡± George said, looking relieved. According to Laurel, not wanting to vomit around spatial effects made her compatible with the aspect. She could only hope, for the sake of the rest of the initiates, that the tests for other affinities were gentler.


    They made it out of the Maze Forest, as Annette insisted they name it, just after lunch. They had only been in the hidden realm for a few days, but the dried rations were already getting old. The Maze had ended suddenly, just a line where the smooth barked trees gave out to a small lagoon, on the shores of a body of crystal clear water. They could see straight through to the white sands at the bottom. Schools of fish, each with an extra pair of fins, swam leisurely throughout. Mist rose off the water a few dozen meters out, growing thicker until it obscured their view of how far it went. From the kid¡¯s experience and her own observations Annette suspected if they tried wading out or swimming, they would find themselves redirected towards the shore. She would not be testing it.


    She was pulled out of her sightseeing by a gentle nudge from George.


    ¡°Look there,¡± he whispered.


    Annette followed his pointed arm but couldn¡¯t see anything. ¡°What is it?¡±


    George cursed in Laskarian. ¡°I don¡¯t know the word in Meristan, but there¡¯s ripples in the sky.¡±


    This time she saw it. In patches a few handspans wide, ripples floated through the air in a loose formation. The distortions didn¡¯t block light, but the wave-like effect was hard to look at for too long. The flock wheeled around and one of the ripples dropped into the water. Annette watched in fascination. It was easier to see under the water. Somehow. It approached the fish slowly. In a flash, the ripple changed shape and half of a fish disappeared. The tail sank to the sand beneath the lagoon, trailing blood in its wake. The ripple dove after it and a few seconds later, it was gone.


    ¡°We¡¯re not camping here,¡± John said.


    ¡°Yup.¡±


    ¡°Agreed.¡±


    They crept around the lagoon and into the, thankfully, normal forest on the other side. Another hour went by in silence, each of them looking back over their shoulders every few moments, scanning the air for any sort of distortion.


    ¡°How are you going to carve that one John?¡±


    Annette appreciated George¡¯s attempt to make a joke and smiled at him. It was brittle and forced but she held it. There was nothing they could do about it now, better to move on.


    ¡°Maybe we should name them,¡± she said in an attempt to keep the banter going.


    ¡°Flappers? Or Skimmers maybe, for how they were flying?¡± George tried.


    ¡°Ripplebirds?¡± Annette tossed out.


    ¡°Riftmaws.¡±


    They walked in silence for a few moments.


    ¡°Stars above, John. We want them to be less terrifying.¡±


    Her brother just shrugged. ¡°Mine sounds cooler.¡±


    They bickered for a few minutes while they walked. By the time the environment changed again Annette felt almost back to normal after the close encounter. Whether or not that was her brother¡¯s plan all along was a question for after they learned to navigate the new region of rolling hills. The ever-present streams were now at the bottom of treacherous canyons and ravines, some only a handbreadth apart, others wide enough to slip and fall into. After carefully jumping over some of the smaller gaps they came to a wide section without any precarious drops, with the closest stream easily reachable.


    ¡°We¡¯ll stop here for the night.¡±


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    The boys made noises of agreement and got to setting up their little camp. Annette dropped her pack and surreptitiously rubbed her shoulders. Laurel¡¯s insistence on strength and endurance training had paid off, but that made hauling everything she needed for a couple of weeks on her back possible, not comfortable. The evening passed quietly. Annette had brought some books on spatial magic Adam had translated. When he found the time, Annette wasn¡¯t sure, but he had handed her the gift without being able to make eye contact, just before he set off on his own adventure. George was doing his bullet infusing and was dead to the world. After a while John paused in his relentless carving to come sit by her for a while.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been all over the world, Annie, but this is a whole new kind of dangerous.¡±


    She could tell he was holding something back, looking away from her and picking nervously at the grass. ¡°Just say it, and don¡¯t call me Annie.¡±


    ¡°I guess I¡¯m just worried. Your life is all about magic ¡°transliminal spaces¡± and the like. It feels so far away. I¡¯m your big brother, but how am I supposed to protect you from floating sky ripples? How am I supposed to help out if you need advice on space magic? This is your life now, but how do me and our parents fit into it?¡±


    ¡°John¡­¡±. Annette didn¡¯t know what to say. Her family would always be her family. She supposed up to this point it had felt like embracing magic was just like switching from a shop clerk to a noble¡¯s secretary, an advantageous career move like a few others she¡¯d made. It hadn¡¯t crossed her mind that her family would be this worried, or think she was abandoning them.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s your life Annie, I just want to be a part of it.¡±


    ¡°You are! You must know that? You and Mama and Dad, you¡¯ll always be a part of my life. Stars, did Mama tell you she had to knock some sense into me when I was complaining a while back? I¡¯ll always need my big brother around.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess.¡± As much as the response was lackluster, Annette could spot her brother¡¯s hidden smile.


    ¡°You should come to the sect house for dinner one day. Our cook is amazing.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take you up on that Annie.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me Annie. I have magic powers now you know, you should listen to me.¡±


    They bickered for a while longer, enjoying their rare time together.


    *********


    George, he was slightly surprised to find, liked the Radas. Annette was smarter than most people he knew and excited about pushing her magic. The woman was still a little scary when she cracked the whip at the sect, but he could respect leadership that wasn¡¯t based on physical violence. John was more enigmatic, but the man had a sense of humor hidden under the stoicism, along with an impressive way of reading people. Not to mention, an appreciation for silence. George had been sociable when he was young, but years in the Magehunters twisted his first instincts in meeting new people to cautious apprehension, and he could only really be social for a few hours a day without getting exhausted. Annette¡¯s taciturn older brother seemed to get it.


    There wasn¡¯t too much time for reflection, however. The ravine-riddled area they were traversing was more treacherous than the forest. The angles and just slightly different heights of the smooth sections made the cracks nearly invisible. If they weren¡¯t focused it would be easy to trip and fall, the consequences of which would range from embarrassing to lethal. So they mostly walked in silence. And walked. And walked some more. The canyon field was larger than the other contained regions they¡¯d found thus far. After spending the morning trudging through there was still no end in sight.


    ¡°Let¡¯s take a break here, it¡¯s close enough to lunchtime,¡± Annette said.


    They agreed easily. Before joining the other two, George ducked behind a small copse of trees near the edge of one of the cliffs. He quickly jumped back out again, necessities forgotten.


    ¡°Hey, come over here for a second.¡±


    The others joined him and he pointed out a distinctive tree, a few ravines further back. The trunk was twisted and warped, like the tree had leaned to the side before growing straight again. A bench-shaped area, shaded from the haze light by the canopy was the result. It was distressingly familiar.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that where we camped last night?¡±


    ¡°What? No, we¡¯ve been hiking for hours. I¡¯m sure the trees just look the same,¡± Annette said, looking at him oddly.


    George pushed mana into his eyes. It was a technique he¡¯d developed over years, but the few months he¡¯d spent at the Eternal Archive had made it far easier and more effective. The memory tablet he had gotten to look at as his reward for protecting the city compounded the effect. A cultivator focused almost entirely on stealth and information gathering had left memories of how to improve senses in short bursts. With the technique active, George could see every bump and divot in the tree bark.


    ¡°There! It¡¯s definitely the same tree. I can see the carving of the horror-squirrel John was doing last night.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. I can¡¯t see anything where are you looking?¡± Annette¡¯s voice was getting higher as she tried to deny the inevitable.


    ¡°By the base of the bench.¡±


    He pointed and watched Annette peer back pointlessly. Neither of the others had developed their senses enough to spot the thumb-sized carving. Eventually the others gave up looking.


    ¡°What now?¡± John asked. ¡°Do we go back the way we came?¡±


    George looked to Annette but the woman was trembling with panic already. Her pupils dilated and her breath was coming in quick pants.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he reached out to grab her shoulders but thought better of it. Meristans didn¡¯t like public touching. ¡°It¡¯s going to be fine. We knew the space magic was going to make some things weird. Let¡¯s walk back towards the bench-tree now.¡±


    George kept up the soft words, while John gave Annette a gentle hug. Within a few minutes she¡¯d calmed down enough for John to step back, though Martin noticed he left his hand on his sister¡¯s shoulder. The only sign of the episode he could see was some puffiness around her eyes.


    ¡°Apologies, I don¡¯t know what came over me there. It¡¯s not really any worse than the tree maze or those horrifying flying things.¡±


    ¡°Riftmaws.¡±


    ¡°Shut up John,¡± Annette said. But the watery laugh betrayed the sentiment.


    ¡°Is this the first time you¡¯ve done something dangerous, like life-threatening dangerous?¡± George asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t go around risking my life regularly, no.¡±


    George took a moment to consider how to phrase things delicately. Annette was probably his favorite of the sect officers, but she still had a temper on occasion. ¡°That makes sense. Sometimes the danger doesn¡¯t really sink in immediately.


    ¡°The first time I was sent out with the magehunters, we were supposed to find a new cultivator there were rumors about in the countryside outside of Laskar City. The thing was, it turns out the girl was a servant on a noble estate. We had to sneak in and get her out without anyone seeing us. The estate was full of armed guards, and some hunting dogs as well. I was as calm as could be during. But then I was so panicked when we got to the horses, I could barely get on. My team member had to tie me to the saddle.¡±


    ¡°First big storm at sea for me. It was raining so hard you couldn¡¯t see from one side of the deck to the other. Every time we crested a wave, I felt my feet leave the floor on the way down the other side. I refused to go back up top for two days after.¡±


    ¡°You never told us that,¡± Annette said, voice small.


    ¡°I was sixteen. You think Mama would let me go back out if she knew? Besides, I got used to it eventually. No one likes to sail through a storm, but I can handle it now.¡±


    ¡°So what you¡¯re both telling me, is that if I do enough crazy things I¡¯ll be so inured to fear that nothing will phase me?¡±


    ¡°How do you think Martin and Laurel turned out like that?¡± George quipped back.


    The tension broken, they began to make their way back towards the unusual tree.


    An hour later, and the distance between them had barely shrunk. In an unspoken agreement, they came to a stop. George¡¯s mana senses had been spread out the entire time, but nothing seemed odd to him. It just felt like a normal landscape, if weird with the cracks in the earth. Just not one they could leave.


    ¡°Annette. Can you feel anything unusual about this area. Like the trees?¡±


    ¡°Maybe, what about you?¡±


    ¡°My mana is aspected to metal. I can feel the flows and everything but it¡¯s not the best option for picking up subtleties.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m - I¡¯m not sure.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s take a break here and meditate for a while, see if you feel anything.¡±


    **********


    Annette did her best to ignore everything. The ragged, off-tempo sounds of her breathing pattern and the feel of the hard ground beneath her kept trying to infringe and she pushed them away. Thoughts of her embarrassing breakdown intruded and she ignored those as well. Her hands gripped her skirts until her knuckles went white. Her whole being was focused on her spiritual senses. There was something there.


    Breathe in. Breathe out. Feel the mana.


    She pictured the controlled rivers of Verilia, the gentle tides of the countryside, and the patchwork streams of the rest of the hidden realm. None of them made sense here. Laurel had warned them that the water metaphors would fail eventually¡­ No. Focus.


    Another few minutes and she flopped back onto the ground with a groan.


    ¡°I can feel something but I can¡¯t quite tell what,¡± she groaned.


    George and John both reoriented around her.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you describe what you¡¯re feeling?¡± George said.


    ¡°It¡¯s like the mana is longer here. No, that¡¯s not it. Like the same amount of mana can suddenly fill up more space. But mana doesn¡¯t really take up space. But it sort of does. Laurel always talks about flow all the time. Tidal and vortex and rivers and streams. That¡¯s not what it feels like. It¡¯s¡­ I don¡¯t know what it is. But I can feel it stretching.¡±


    ¡°Um, well, that¡¯s okay. Anything else?¡± George at least tried to make her feel better about that awful rambling explanation.


    ¡°Like when Mama would complain about a bolt of fabric that the looms messed up? The tension in the warp not matching the weft.¡± John said.


    ¡°No. Actually yes, exactly like that. Where did that come from?¡±


    ¡°I was home for a few days and a whole bolt of fabric was ruined. Mama didn¡¯t stop moaning about it until you got there.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± George broke in, ¡°we have an idea of what¡¯s going on. The mana is stretched somehow. Now do you feel a way to get us out of the stretched part?¡±


    Annette did not, in fact, have an idea. John, however, came to the rescue again.


    ¡°If we¡¯re on the taut string, we should try moving along the loose one right? Can you feel a direction where things are less tight?¡±


    She closed her eyes again. This time instead of trying to feel the whole area at once, she focused on one section at a time.


    ¡°There.¡± She pointed then opened her eyes. To be confronted with the widest gap off their current patch of ground.


    George sighed. ¡°Of course it is.¡±

 Ch 89 - To Laskar and Beyond

    ¡°Stop touching it.¡± Martin admonished.


    Adam jolted and dropped the hand he hadn¡¯t realized was rubbing his smooth face. The beard had been sacrificed to the cause, along with Devon¡¯s flamboyant outfits. Now the three of them could be mistaken for any trio of Laskarian travelers. Including heavy packs with their supplies. Even millennia ago, spatial storage had been rare. More so for any device that would work for a mortal. So they had to carry their belongings instead, or at least appear to do so.


    ¡°It looks good,¡± Devon assured him. ¡°You should keep shaving.¡±


    ¡°I look like a child,¡± he grumbled back.


    ¡°Trust me, you don¡¯t.¡± Martin said with a wink.


    Their hike ran into a section of hills after that and Adam didn¡¯t have breath to spare for complaints. Instead he stored them up inside. Chief among them was that they should have warned him to increase his physical exercise ahead of the trip. The sect-wide morning practice had made him fitter than he¡¯d ever been, but that was still below the level needed for wilderness expeditions.


    ¡°Remind me,¡± Adam puffed when they crested a rise, ¡°why we had to go ten kilometers out of the way again?¡±


    ¡°Because we need to be as unmemorable as possible. Strangers appearing out of the wilderness are memorable. But travelers passing through on the main road are easy to forget.¡± Martin explained. The bastard looked like this was no more than a casual stroll through the palace gardens. ¡°We need to be far enough up the road that no one sees us wandering out of the woods.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have some magic technique that would make them not notice us?¡± Adam could understand the logic, but did they really need to be this far out of the way?


    ¡°Eh, there are some ways to avoid notice, but they aren¡¯t foolproof. Besides, unnoticed means as little magic as possible. From what George said, it¡¯s doubtful the Laskarians will have enough cultivators to be stationed in every town or village, but there still might be some around that are sensitive enough to notice. Speaking of which, your veil is slipping a bit.¡±


    Adam groaned but focused on his mana flows. Any spare moment during their crossing had been spent teaching Adam how to hold a veil. The process was a finicky one. Instead of letting mana flow through his body at a constant speed, he had to slow it down in the areas closer to the surface. The result, to the casual observer, made him look like any other mortal. It had surprised Adam to discover he was actually quite good at it, when he paid attention. The fine detail work required fit his meticulous nature. Only when his focus drifted for too long did his true presence start to leak. Devon and Martin could hold something much more complicated and more difficult to pierce, but that was the result from decades of practice. It was heartening to have a real success to point to when it came to cultivation. Even something as minor as being able to hide.


    They reached the road just before lunch and turned south. By the afternoon, the countryside had bled into freshly tilled land, and they passed a series of turnoffs, likely leading to the farms responsible. When the protests from Adam¡¯s stomach were at the point of open revolt, they finally came upon their target.


    The town was underwhelming. Or rather, the town looked exactly like the country towns he¡¯d seen in his rare trips outside of Verilia, which hardly made it worth crossing an ocean for. There were a few dozen buildings, mostly wood with gray slate or thatched roofs. The sounds and smells were the same as the countryside anywhere, people making merry at the end of a workday, the faint aroma of animals and acrid tang of coal smoke reaching his nose. One building was more bustling than the rest, standing three stories tall, with laughter and lantern-light leaking out onto the street. Devon and Martin made for it without hesitation, Adam trailing behind. He was catching snippets of conversation in Laskarian, and he was suddenly very grateful they had made it clear he should speak as little as possible. The accents were almost indecipherable, far from the clear diction of his university instructors.


    They pushed into the tavern and made their way to the bar, where Martin negotiated rooms and food. At least, Adam caught the word for dinner and was hoping he was correct on the rest. He knew they would be camping for parts of the journey but he had no desire to start tonight.


    It turned out he needn¡¯t have feared, they left their packs in small but serviceable rooms on the third floor before descending back to the dining room for dinner. They may as well have eaten trail rations. The stew was greasy and bland, the bread mostly stale. Adam longingly pictured the dining room at the sect, where Esther had no doubt served up a dinner worthy of a top restaurant, surrounded by people he could actually understand. Instead he choked down what was served and listened to Martin and Devon mutter to each other in an impressive mimicry of the regional accent. Halfway through the meal, Devon went back to the bar and came back with another round of bitter ale and a folded newspaper. He flipped through, reading a few pages, before passing it off to Martin, who handed it off to Adam when they retired to their own rooms for the evening.


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    With nothing better to do, Adam settled in to read. The paper was two weeks old, having been brought from the capital. Facts he noticed only after the headline shouted at him, ¡°New Evidence For Magical Meristan Plot, Should We Be Worried?.¡± The story that followed was sensationalist drivel. No evidence was presented. Rather the article was thinly veiled propaganda, describing how Meristans had manipulated magic, causing monsters to appear around the country, in an attempt to weaken the empire. And the noble imperial authorities were being forced to learn the necessary tools to subvert that control.


    For anyone with a shred of knowledge it was a government desperately backtracking on a generation-long ¡®technology is the future, magic doesn¡¯t exist¡¯ policy. But how many of these townspeople had that knowledge? A memory of dinner flashed into his mind. Only this time, his imagination took hold and he could understand every conversation. They decried Meristans as evil, perverted mages, attacking the empire with subterfuge, setting up rampaging monsters to destroy civilians and infrastructure. Laurel even made a named appearance, as the corrupting witch responsible for the worst offenses, including a rampaging herd of deformed elephants that had come for the capital several months prior. He slept poorly that night and woke in a foul mood.


    Adam held his tongue until they were well clear of town the following morning before voicing his concerns.


    ¡°It feels wrong to just leave the town without doing anything,¡± he said. His voice was a low murmur, more aware than ever that his accent could give them away.


    The other men exchanged glances but it was Martin who decided to answer. ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do.¡± He rephrased when Adam began to object, ¡°rather we are doing what we can already.


    ¡°The more resources we keep from falling into our enemies hands, the better. Getting the Legacy Stone from Devon¡¯s sect is a major part of that. Even if we could convince those people ¨C people who¡¯ve heard all their lives how terrible we are ¨C that the paper was printing lies, what then? We¡¯d pull attention to ourselves we don¡¯t want, and probably give away our goals in the process.¡±


    That was as unsatisfying an answer as any Adam had ever heard but he kept quiet. They were right that changing a few local minds wasn¡¯t going to win them the race they¡¯d become embroiled in. The fields gave way back to untamed prairie as they trudged on to the next town.


    This one at least looked foreign enough to justify the trip. Adam still had no idea what it was called, but the roofs gleamed in metal sheets that would cause a horrific noise in the sleet and rain of a Verilian winter. There was architecture to speak of, with some taller buildings sporting decorative carvings and other flourishes, surrounded by walled gardens. They could only be noble manors, or the regional governors as they preferred to style themselves here.


    The tavern they found themselves in, however, could have been a perfect copy of the last one. Not that taverns were ever really that different, no matter the time or distance between visits. People wanted cheap beer and dinner, and the template for how to get that service to the masses had been minted in time immemorial, and copied over ever since.


    ************


    Much like the last town they¡¯d passed through, Martin settled in to listen to the local gossip. More of the everyday complaints that would always dominate the local drinking establishment. A concerning amount of angry rumbling about how it was all Merista¡¯s fault that magic was so present in their lives. Most interestingly, a few men in the corner complained about being ¡®strongly encouraged¡¯ to volunteer in the local militia to hunt down monsters. That last bit was the only good news. It confirmed they didn¡¯t have enough cultivators that were able to perform the same duty, and the official military was stretched too thin to take over. If Meristan reports were to be believed, that was mostly to do with the ongoing offensive with the nomad tribes to the northwest, and the jungle kingdom south of the nomads, both of which Laskar was trying to take over. Things hadn¡¯t escalated to open warfare yet, but the testing of borders and low level violence were keeping the Laskarians busy.


    If he felt bad about mortals being forced to fight spirit beasts, that feeling was eroded a little more each time they cursed Laurel for causing the problem. Besidesm they had guns. Most of them would survive.


    His mood was thoroughly soured by the time dinner ended and he wished the others good night. Just as they entered the rooms, Devon slipped something into his pocket and shook his head just enough for Martin to see. Another shred of good news. A town this large, almost reaching the size of a very small city, would have an established Core. Devon¡¯s tricky little device measured whether or not it showed any signs of cultivation, while being the closest thing to undetectable. Martin was under no illusion that this would be the case as they got closer to the capital, but he would take the small win while they got their feet under them. For all his confidence in starting this journey, he was very aware that should things go wrong, they would end up deep in enemy territory, the three of them against an empire.


    *********


    Adam stared at the beast in front of him. Large, powerful, conquering it would be the worst ordeal he had faced yet. A puff of air hit him from two large nostrils, causing him to rear back. He summoned every ounce of courage to begin his approach.


    ¡°No point in delaying, it will hurt either way,¡± Devon said. ¡°Just get in the saddle.¡±


    Adam didn¡¯t bother answering. Hoisting himself up  the mounting block, he gripped the worn leather and hauled himself on top of the beast in an inelegant sprawl. The ostler tweaked some straps and buckles with mysterious purposes, and slapped the horse''s rump as he walked back to the stables.


    ¡°And we¡¯re off. Adam, hold on and try your best to move with the horse.¡±


    With those limited instructions from Martin, they left the inn at a plodding pace. Adam couldn¡¯t help but notice the animal he¡¯d been given was dull and drab compared to the other two, gray hair and placid eyes that barely flickered as he tried to clamber on. When Devon had returned with the mounts for the next part of the journey, he had mentioned asking for ¡°the most even-tempered horse they had¡±, which apparently translated to ¡®whatever is closest to keeling over¡¯. The spirited black gelding Martin was on had almost bitten Adam when he approached, so he kept his complaints to himself.


    At least he did until that evening when he got off the blasted thing and collapsed in a heap on the ground, moaning about the evils of horseback.


    Martin came over and crouched beside him. ¡°Yeah, it would have been better if we¡¯d had a chance to get you riding practice before we left, but that¡¯s life.¡±


    Adam groaned in response.


    ¡°Here. I can¡¯t take it all away or it won¡¯t get any better, but I can help a little.¡±


    Adam felt a warm pressure from Martin¡¯s hand against his upper back. A breath later, the warmth began to spread, concentrating in his aching thighs and backside. When the magic dissipated, he found he could move his legs without weeping. The twinges were still there but he would be able to sleep at least. And then tomorrow he would do it all over. And the next day, and the day after that. He wanted to cry again.

 Ch 90 - Reputation Management

    Laurel had been confident she would get used to doing all the sect officer roles herself. The first week alone had disabused her of the notion. She¡¯d managed a handful of hours sleeping in total, between lessons for her students, setting up the various challenges Rebecca and Gabrielle insisted on, keeping the logistics running with chore and delivery schedules, meeting with the council¡­. It was quite a lot. Not that she would show it. As Sectmaster, it was her role to handle everything and make it look easy. So as she swept into the Magician¡¯s Guild headquarters for her meeting with Sabrina, she was armed with a smile and lunch from the woman¡¯s favorite street vendor in the capital. Annette¡¯s notes on the other woman had come in remarkably useful. That Annette had labeled and indexed notes on every important person in the city was not something Laurel cared to comment on.


    ¡°Good afternoon, I come bearing gifts,¡± she declared after entering.


    The ice-blue eyes on the other woman, usually so piercing, lit up at the packages in Laurel¡¯s hands. They left one of the novices from the sect manning the desk as they moved into the backroom. What had been Laurel¡¯s bedroom in her first months in the city was now a smartly organized office, With shelves of drawers installed along the back wall, ready to house guild records as they were created. Adam had once spent an entire dinner describing the major filing systems favored by different guilds and Laurel was doing her damnedest to avoid having to know which they had settled upon.


    ¡°How are things going with the guild?¡± Laurel said after swallowing a bite of her herbed chicken wrap.


    ¡°Pressure is ramping up from some of the other guilds. The Merchants are leaving us alone officially, though they aren¡¯t bothering to rein in any of their more opinionated members. And the Scholars have been kicking up a fuss. The Scribes have been busy, at last count, they were up to 38 different injunctions filed to prevent regular guild activities. All but three were thrown out immediately but it¡¯s taking up time to refute each one.¡±


    Laurel sighed. ¡°Why do they even care? It¡¯s not like any of those groups are teaching magic.¡±


    ¡°Because guild politics are all about favors owed and received. The more pressure they can apply now, the worse off we¡¯ll be when our probationary period ends, the easier they can eventually subsume us.¡±


    ¡°What can I do then?¡±


    ¡°Just keep yourself and your sect visible. Go around doing benevolent magic things, and try not to make any of the major nobles too upset.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°I spent months working with Martin, I learned to prioritize,¡± Sabrina said. A glint of humor in her eyes was the only sign of the joke in an otherwise deadpan delivery.


    ¡°Guess I¡¯ll go find something magic to do, in between all the other things.¡±


    The rest of the meeting covered the various ins and outs of the sect and the political battles Sabrina was fighting. As dire as the situation sounded, the capable woman had it well in hand and Laurel was happy to leave it to her, she had plenty of her own fires to put out.


    On the way out, the young woman working the desk called out ¡°have a pleasant afternoon, Sectmaster.¡±


    Laurel slowed her flight and took a moment to truly look at the girl. Deep brown eyes in an earnest face, wearing one of the sect uniforms Annette had ordered so long ago. Her name was Natalia, but that was all Laurel knew about her. Not her background or her hopes for cultivation. Nothing about what led this particular young woman, barely into her third decade, to join the Eternal Archive. The dissonance made Laurel stop entirely. When had she stopped learning about each of the new members? Hadn¡¯t she sworn to be a better kind of Sectmaster after losing Borin?


    The brutal truth she faced in that cramped guild hall confirmed the opposite. She had taken a few of the students under her wing, and isolated herself from the rest. If she didn¡¯t get close to them in the first place, it would be less devastating if she lost them later. That would end now. Fear was not her style.


    ¡°How are things going Natalia?¡±


    Laurel watched as the girl visibly brightened. Such an easy thing to actually pay attention to her student. ¡°Things are well, Sectmaster. I¡¯m almost done with my month rotation in the guildhall, and so far nothing unexpected has happened. It¡¯s been great for my reading projects.¡±


    ¡°Oh? What have you been working on?¡¯


    A gleam of passion lit Natalia up from within. ¡°Farming.¡±


    ¡°Farming?¡± Laurel wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d heard the girl correctly, but her fervent nodding told her otherwise.


    ¡°There¡¯s lots of examples in the library of cultivators using plants, or growing specific herbs or mushrooms for alchemy, but nothing about regular crops. My family works on farmland in the southwest. I¡¯m going to pioneer the first magical farming techniques!¡±


    ¡°Huh. Not something I¡¯ve ever thought about before but I look forward to seeing what you come up with. Maybe you can start with Mr. Mercer in the gardens before you scale up.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t wanted to bother him, do you think it would be alright?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure of it. Plus we have a few mana-infused plants that need special care. Not what your goal is but they might actually be easier to start with. The resonance between your mana and the mana in the plant will probably help you figure out what it needs.¡±


    Laurel watched as one of the notebooks Annette insisted on buying in bulk appeared from beneath the desk, where Natalia dutifully noted down what Laurel had told her. One conversation and Laurel had just learned of the hopes and dreams of one of her students, along with a potential for a whole new field of cultivation. And joke material.


    ¡°Tell me Natalia, you¡¯ve been here for a month, what do you think of all the inter-guild politicking?¡±


    The young woman waved a well-manicured hand in dismissal. ¡°We have a saying in the south. ¡®You can cut your own wood and butcher your own livestock, but everyone makes friends with the blacksmith.¡¯¡±


    A slow smile spread across Laurel¡¯s face. ¡°Right you are, Natalia. I guess we just need to become the local blacksmith.¡±


    Natalia¡¯s words were still on her mind when Laurel found some time to read the major newspaper¡¯s big weekly editions. The technique was one she had developed over the last few weeks. Her door was cracked open, glow stones were turned off, and none of the incense or scented candles she was fond of were burning. If any of her sect members walked by, they would see an empty office, not quite closed up when she left in a hurry to do some important Sectmaster business. After the constant interruptions, she¡¯d found this was the best balance. If someone knocked or came inside she would be happy to talk to them. But she wasn¡¯t going to encourage spur of the moment visits. The subtle air mana manipulation to keep the noise of rustling paper from drifting into the hall was just her way of being considerate.


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    Satisfied that she was as focused as she would be, she started in on the Eighthday copy of The Ladies¡¯ Court. The society paper was fascinating to Laurel. It was an education on Verilian culture delivered through sarcasm and false cheer. Reports included gossip over what gambling hall various socialites had been seen in, or who had spurned which dressmaker. Even the strains of tea or specialty paper-sellers that fell out of favor were reported on. The fastidiousness of these mortals never ceased to amaze. Though she wouldn¡¯t be admitting it to Annette, it even inspired a few ideas for how the sect might find opportunity for further entrenchment into high society.


    The Meristan Herald was as boring as ever. A dry recitation of recent news from the Capital and the rest of the country. It was probably the most accurate publication on her desk, but Laurel could barely force herself through it.


    It was the Verilian Express that turned the reading from a necessity to an ordeal. The front page story was about rising tensions with Laskar, the same as dozens of headlines Laurel had read in the last few months. Hidden within the meat of the article, were a few oblique references to ¡°new organizations headed by foreigners¡± and an ¡°alien way of life¡±. Just enough obscuring language to be able to deny it, but an obvious criticism of the sect nonetheless. It got worse the further she read. One article quoted several ¡°anonymous concerned citizens¡± that were distrustful of the magic defenses. Another criticized the air cabs as dangerous and wasteful. Someone else claimed the glowing gold dome was a hoax and that magic didn¡¯t exist. The result added up to a paper obviously set against the sect, the guild, and magic in general.


    Laurel had a vision of smashing through the door to the newspaper offices, destroying the presses and burning anything she could find inside. It would be satisfying until she had to move her sect or face retribution against the more vulnerable members. Or convince anyone that binding to her City was completely safe.


    She pushed her awareness towards the Core, and the pathetically small number of official citizens that had been bonded. Mostly sect members and the people that came to her for healing each week. She leaned back and thought about what Annette would do, what Adam would do, what Theresa would do. She already knew what Martin would do and it mirrored her fantasy too closely to trust.


    A half an hour later she was storming back past Natalia into Sabrina¡¯s office in the guildhall.


    ¡°Who owns the Verilian Express?¡± she demanded.


    Sabrina narrowed her eyes over the paper she¡¯d been examining. ¡°How would I know?¡±


    ¡°Have you read the last edition? It¡¯s practically a declaration of war!¡±


    The guild leader shuffled a pile at the far corner of her desk to pull out a paper identical to the one in Laurel¡¯s hand. She flipped through the pages, eyes scanning from one article to the next. Laurel watched the woman¡¯s expression grow more and more pinched, until she looked like she¡¯d swallowed a lemon by the end.


    ¡°Well, that certainly won¡¯t do.¡±


    ¡°I agree. I¡¯m thinking we should go down to the headquarters and make things very clear to whoever is writing this shit.¡±


    Sabrina tsked. ¡°And give them enough to write a story about you strong-arming them? Or how magic users can¡¯t be trusted? No, we need a more tempered approach.


    Throwing her hands up, Laurel began stalking back and forth across the room. ¡°This is the tempered approach! The untempered approach was crushing them like vermin. Lightning makes a very convincing argument and it was my first choice for dealing with this.¡±


    Sabrina lowered the paper to stare at Laurel. ¡°Annette deserves a medal.¡±


    ¡°True, but irrelevant.¡± She continued pacing across the room like a caged animal. ¡°What do you suggest then?¡±


    ¡°You started with the right question. We need to know who¡¯s behind it, and why they¡¯re doing this. Everything is just obscured enough to give them deniability. There¡¯s no way that¡¯s not on purpose, so something more is afoot than random bigotry.¡±


    ¡°Fine, we¡¯ll do it your way. Let¡¯s go find out who owns the paper,¡± Laurel snarled.


    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    Laurel bit back the rebuke that rose to her lips. Fairweather friends were not something she would abide by. Though to her credit, Sabrina looked upset about the situation.


    ¡°I¡¯m in the middle of negotiating Core development contracts for some of our members in minor cities. I can¡¯t pause things now to investigate.¡±


    Both women paused and regarded each other a moment.


    ¡°Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have been so confident with everyone leaving at once,¡± Laurel admitted. ¡°But we¡¯re here now. I suppose it¡¯s time those initiates of mine earned their keep.¡±


    Putting the conviction into practice would have to wait. That evening, the intrepid foragers returned, dirt-covered and toting bulging sacks saturated with mana in different aspects and concentrations. The conquering heroes wasted no time waylaying Laurel, and pestering the rest of the sect into gathering in the solarium. With the sun hovering just above the horizon, the room was bathed in warmth and light. The diligence Nicholas showed in keeping the plants in top shape turned the room into a little slice of the jungle, humidity and all. Laurel paused to observe the orchid Leander had diligently carried across two continents. The flower migrated through the sect based on what Leander, Rebecca, and Nicolas thought was most appropriate for the day. With spring in full bloom and longer hours of daylight to take advantage of, it spent most of its time in the humid room surrounded by other more delicate plants. Their shade-dwelling counterparts were tended instead in other rooms throughout the building or planted outside, tucked against one of the walls. When everyone had gathered, Laurel summoned her Sectmaster gravitas and went to work.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see the spoils then. Recall we are looking for proper harvesting along with a wide range of plants and resources. Who¡¯s first?¡±


    Both girls shuffled forward, but Gabrielle took the initiative to thrust out her bag and offer. Laurel pulled out a bolt of black silk embroidered with an enchantment, picked out along the edge in gold thread.


    ¡°Lay each piece down separately,¡± she instructed Gabrielle.


    The rest of the sect watched in silence as plants, rocks, and a singular mushroom were placed along the cloth. Laurel recognized a few of the plants, one would help with regulating internal mana flows, another could be used to prevent infection, but most were foreign to her. There was one lump of stone that was utterly unremarkable except for the fact it was bursting with ice mana. Not to the point of a natural treasure, but Sabrina would probably pay a good sum to have it if none of the sect members were interested. In the end, a dozen pieces were laid out, none of which triggered the enchantment to detect anything overly dangerous.


    ¡°There were more but they were the same kind of plant,¡± the girl said awkwardly when she finished.


    ¡°This is quite good for a first harvesting trip,¡± Laurel assured her. ¡°And it¡¯s good to know we have so much variety in the area near the sect. As promised, you can keep anything you found or sell it to the sect for contribution points.¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± Laurel paused and looked out on the novices of the sect, recalling Natalia¡¯s surprising insight earlier. ¡°Is anyone thinking of pursuing alchemy?¡±


    A couple of hands tentatively went up. A couple young men Laurel was fairly certain came to join after the leviathan attack, like Cooper, having recently left the university. ¡°The contribution point fees will be reimbursed on any material you identify and/or codify the use of. There are some basic alchemical primers that we translated in the library, and some more advanced texts and memory tablets you can access as well.¡±


    Getting back to the challenge at hand, she gestured Rebecca forward. The smug look on her face was enough of an indication of who had won this particular challenge, but they had to go through the formal process. In the end Rebecca pulled out half again as many harvested resources as Gabrielle. It hadn¡¯t been a fair challenge, with the younger girl¡¯s mana having a wild aspect, she would naturally find it easier to find the secrets of the wild places of the world. But no challenges were truly fair and that was a lesson it was important for her students to learn as well.


    ¡°That¡¯s one each. What was the next one?¡±


    ¡°Crafting,¡± Rebecca called out from where she was standing and glaring daggers at Gabrielle.


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Gabrielle agreed. ¡°Woodworking, candle making, tea blending. We¡¯ve worked it out already with a few journeymen from the different guilds, using our stipends for the time and materials.¡±


    Laurel suppressed her laughter. If these two were able to coordinate on that level already she wasn¡¯t going to interrupt the process. ¡°Let¡¯s say three more weeks and come back with whatever you have to show for them.¡±


    At the clear dismissal the sect began to disperse. It wasn¡¯t as flashy as a magical obstacle course but it would do for now. Laurel swept the bits and pieces into her storage tattoo to catalog later.


    ¡°Cooper, hang back for a minute.¡±


    The young man startled but did as she asked, watching the rest of the initiates file out while listening to Rebecca and Gabrielle negotiate crafting timelines. Laurel walked over, letting her fingers trail along the leaves of the plants closest to the window.


    ¡°Your family¡¯s rich, right? In the high brow social circles?¡±


    The young man¡¯s face reddened as he stammered out an affirmative. Maybe she should have phrased that more politely.


    ¡°Do you know who owns the Verilian Express?¡±


    ¡°The Express?¡± He shocked himself out of his own discomfort. ¡°No, no one does. It was a big thing a few years back when they started printing critiques of some of the steam engine producers. The official word was that they didn¡¯t publicize their ownership in order to be free from undue influence.¡±


    ¡°And the unofficial word?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I mean, I never paid too much attention to all that. My dad thinks it''s someone high up in the palace administration. Or someone like that who doesn¡¯t want to be associated with the opinions. But no one knows for sure.¡±


    He still looked confused at the line of questioning. ¡°I take it you haven¡¯t been reading it lately.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, you see Sectmaster. I tend to enjoy more of the fictional options from modern publishers, along with the historical tales from the Archive.¡±


    She waved away his nerves. ¡°You¡¯re not in trouble. It¡¯s just they¡¯ve been criticizing the sect and the guild. You know we¡¯re trying to get people to become official Citizens, pacting to the Core?¡± She paused to wait for his nod before continuing. ¡°It¡¯s not going great. It will be worse if these rumors start to stick.¡±


    Another pause and she looked out of the glass wall, into the countryside that hadn¡¯t at all recovered from the last beast wave. ¡°How about this? The girls are focusing on their challenge for now. Would you be able to take on an official mission to investigate the paper?¡±


    ¡°Umm¡­¡±


    ¡°You can get help, of course, and I¡¯ll make sure the contribution points are enough for a natural treasure to aspect your mana. Unless you¡¯re going with something really obscure, then we can negotiate.¡±


    Laurel watched as the confusion and fear in Cooper¡¯s eyes gradually transitioned to determination. ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±

 Ch 92 - Making It In The Big City

    The fat-bellied skyships swayed at their moorings, casting shadows over the city. Combined with the smoke from the massive ironworks and refineries, Grafton gave the impression of an eternal, depressing dusk. The industrial quarters of Verilia were larger, of course, but the sea breeze and the elevation meant the smoke only infected the worst of the slums. And that was before Laurel had anchored an air-aspected natural treasure to (mostly) negate the effect. Adam regaled the others with these comparisons and a hundred other gripes as they made their way through the city. It kept his mind off of the disturbing similarities.


    There were richer areas and slums, signs of industry and new technology like the skyships or a printing press, nestled between traditional artisans or old worn houses. Lively markets were interspersed with local government buildings or a trade depot. Most disturbing, however, were the people. They were just so irritatingly normal. Their clothes were unusual, with loose, unfitted garments in every color imaginable, the language complex, and they touched each other far too much, but take all that away, and he wouldn¡¯t be able to distinguish between these people and a random Meristan walking by him on the street. They laughed and cried and went about their days the same as anyone else. Except they would hate Adam and his friends on principle if they knew who they were.


    Adam¡¯s internal monologue was broken when they reached the city center only to find a massive crowd standing around and watching some sort of show on a crude stage in front of the mayor¡¯s mansion. It was a recent construction, if the unstained raw lumber was anything to go by. A collared man was kneeling in some symbolic ritual, with another character standing above and performing an impassioned soliloquy.


    ¡°Motherfuckers¡± Devon hissed.


    Martin grunted in agreement. Adam turned to look and almost took a step back at the naked rage on Martin¡¯s face.


    ¡°What? What are they saying?¡± He¡¯d gotten better at whispering Alraisan as they made it farther into the imperial heartlands. The ancient tongue was close enough to modern Laskarian that no one noticed unless they were paying attention.


    By unspoken agreement they eased a bit further back from the crowd before offering any explanations.


    ¡°The one kneeling is a cultivator. Maybe adept level, I¡¯m not sure, it¡¯s hard to tell with only passive senses,¡± Martin said. ¡°And this travesty of a production is a collaring ceremony.¡±


    ¡°Right. I know Laskarians are open but shouldn¡¯t that kind of thing be kept in private?¡±


    ¡°What? It¡¯s a slave binding ceremony. Once, a long, long time ago it was common to take enemy cultivators as slaves. Obviously you can¡¯t just keep someone like that in chains and expect nothing to happen, so some enterprising asshole developed collars that keep cultivation tied to obedience. It doesn¡¯t work on anyone above an expert, the internal cultivation is just too complex to do anything meaningful to, but for anyone else, well¡­¡± Martin trailed off and gestured back towards the stage.


    Adam watched as what he had mistaken for a cheap theatrical played out in front of him. True to Martin¡¯s explanation, the man standing produced an elaborate gold collar, and quickly clipped it into place around the kneeler¡¯s neck.


    ¡°That answers your question then,¡± Adam murmured. ¡°How they¡¯re keeping the cultivators in line while pushing all the anti-magic rhetoric, I mean.¡±


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Martin answered. ¡°But the Core for the city is being worked on and no one¡¯s doing that with a collar on.¡±


    ¡°More importantly,¡± Devon interjected, ¡°where are they getting the collars? Those aren¡¯t easy to make, and the method is ancient. Stars above, it was considered a barbaric relic back when we learned about them as kids, and that one is brand new.¡±


    The trio watched the rest of the ceremony, any further conversation drowned out by cheering from the locals. His early observations combined with the spectacle to form a queasy not in Adam¡¯s stomach. How many Meristans would cheer if they did the same thing to him.


    The crowd dispersed and they went along with it, making their way to the far side of the city where a transportation depot was set up. Adam had been excited to see the wonder of modern engineering when they first heard of it, but now he just wanted to get away.


    The building was as uninspired as the rest of the local architecture, but the scale was imposing enough on its own. Dozens of well-dressed locals were queueing at the far door, while a more varied group went in and out of the main entrance, the doors of which were propped open, in the doomed hope of a breeze. They went inside and stood in line for the less exclusive options. Adam stared longingly at the much shorter line on the opposite side of the building. The inside was sweltering, and when they eventually reached the front of the line, the woman behind the ticket desk had sweat beading across her brow and staining the cloth under her arms.


    ¡°North or West?¡± she asked in a tired voice.


    ¡°West. Three tickets if you would.¡± Devon took the lead, giving Adam more time to gawk. He watched one woman enter the boarding area with an entire retinue, including an actual, real-life fan attendant.


    ¡°How far?¡±


    ¡°Namrock.¡±


    ¡°Fine, that¡¯s one hundred and fifty silver, half due to the conductor when you board, and the rest when you disembark.¡± The woman brought out three pieces of thick, but low-quality cardstock and rapidly stamped them with plain black ink and handed them over. No artistry at all.


    ¡°Departure in two days at noon, if you miss it and come back there¡¯s an extra fee.¡±


    ¡°I still say we  should have kept the horses,¡± Martin said when they were outside again.


    ¡°And take an extra month to get there and back? No this makes more sense, especially with that collaring. I want out of this country as soon as we can manage it.¡±


    They were back again, two days later, but this time they waited on the boarding platform. Along with hundreds of others. It was crowded, noisy, and the smell of stale sweat made Adam gag when they stepped out. The platform was behind the main building, and they looked east, down the ramrod-straight tracks in anticipation, or faint disgust on Martin¡¯s part. Black smoke trailing into the air was the first sign. Soon after, the locomotive came into view. It was an ugly steel contraption. Like a snarling animal barreling through the countryside, smoking and whistling as it bore down on them. They watched as it ate up the distance in minutes, only slowing as it neared the city.


    Their tickets only purchased them seats in the last few cars, packed in with the masses. The expense of the one luxury car at the front, or even the slightly roomier middle of the train was deemed too attention grabbing by the master cultivators. Instead they were packed in, with just enough room to sit, shoved against each other, their packs on a shelf above their seats. A narrow aisle ran down the center of the car, kept clear of feet and belongings by the glares of those sitting opposite, and the employees running up and down without a care to who was stepped on. Only a line of vents near the ceiling provided any relief from the stifling air.


    When there was no more room to shove even a child, a new series of shouts started coming out from the runners. Another ten minutes after that, the whole contraption lurched and began to trundle west. In the first moments they were barely moving at all, but the train quickly picked up speed until they were moving faster than their horses would have been able to maintain.


    Hours passed as Adam realized a new horror of mass transit. His Laskarian was still not deemed by his companions to be safe for casual use. He was forced instead to sit in silence. The clanking of machinery, dozens of conversations, and unending thrum of the steam engine at the head of the train filled the gap. His bones rattled with the movement of the car, and the still too-hot air was combining with everything to give him a blistering headache. He looked to his left and saw Martin¡¯s eyes in the half-closed state that meant he was eavesdropping, either magically or the normal way. On his right, Devon was reading a paper from Grafton, looking far too posh for the crowd they were in, and entirely unbothered. Adam found the most comfortable position and settled in to wait.


    So far adventuring was just a sequence of moving from place to place in the most uncomfortable ways they could find.