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3.35 All quiet
🕑 Added 2024-03-07 01:27:22 +0000 UTCDifference: Minimal
AN: This has been, notably, a particularly bad week. Lot of staring at a blank page with a plan but without the words to enact it. I do, however, have a silver lining: To get around my block I ended up starting work on the end-of-volume interludes. While that is a good while away, it means I will likely be able to drop several at once when the time for it comes. So, that is something to look forward to at least.
Time passed. The Lich War was, as far as anyone knew, the quiet and insidious kind. Battles took place only when one side took the other by surprise. Sometimes a horde would be wiped out, sometimes a smaller force of the Federation would be caught off guard and vanish. Elizabeth told Irwyn that no undead beyond the power of a domain had been so much as spotted yet, which left everyone in the know nervous.
It all seemed rather detached in Ebon Respite. Though the cooperation with the Guild had been set into place, no real signs of the undead had come yet. Irwyn spent most of his days practising his magic, occasionally visiting his unlawfully inclined friends. Like that days flew by.
Soon enough it was over 3 months since his return to Ebon Respite.
His improvement remained rapid during this time. When he had first arrived at Ebon Respite he could wield 15 five-intention spells, maybe turn that into a bit over two six-intentions magics on a good day. In those three months he had experienced no visions to make any sudden leaps, though that did not mean he stalled at all. By the time they passed he could wield 25 six-intention spells.
Progress did, after all, accelerate the more powerful one became. Power beget power and such. To make a nine-intention spell was, purely mathematically, at least 362 800 times more difficult than casting magic with just one. If the rate of progress remained the same all the way, there may very well be no mages who ever got even halfway to the end.
After all his training, Irwyn could almost cast three seven-intention spells. Despite that, he had not managed to surpass Elizabeth yet. Perhaps feeling him hot on her heels, she more than kept pace - a fact she embarrassedly attributed to the ambrosia she had imbibed. Without any visions to help him along she had actually slightly increased the thinning gap between them again… at least as far as raw magical capacity was concerned.
When it came to the power of their Vessels Irwyn’s advantage only widened. He had noticed that even his most powerful spells gradually became less straining. Then at some point, he had reached a boundary when he had become literally unable to run out of mana - even his most powerful magics consumed less mana than he recovered. That was, apparently, unheard of even in the Federation’s long history. Elizabeth guessed Irwyn’s Vessel already surpassed almost all mages at the peak of imbuement, keeping in mind that nine-intention spells were quite literally at least 72 times more mana intensive than his seven-intention ones.
It was also that advantage that allowed him to keep up in their duels. Although Elizabeth still surpassed him in skill, at least technically, Irwyn had developed ways to close that gap. While he chose not to ‘stall at all cost’ - as that would be rather boring - his style was certainly more defensive and immobile compared to Elizabeth’s dexterous running around, depending more on hiding within her Void magics than blocking.
It was, coincidentally, after one of their ‘hideaway weekends’ as Alice had dubbed the way the two spent their time off dueling, that the relative normalcy was broken. They were resting after one of their matches, nearing the time they would have to return when a frown suddenly spread across Elizabeth’s face.
“That is bad,” she muttered. “We need to go. Now!”
“What happened?” Irwyn questioned, though they were already leaving. Elizabeth was, in fact, moving at a jog making Irwyn match the pace.
“Moment,” she headed for the Voidways, the staff not daring to disturb their obvious hurry. She only spoke again when they were inside at which point she also cast some quick body enchantment spells and ran. “A patrol has gone missing.”
“Oh,” Irwyn said. He had also cast several similar spells to keep up. His physical enhancement could not match Elizabeth but he could still do enough to run faster. “What happened to ‘no undead’?”
“We do not know for certain it was undead,” she bit her lip.
“Of course we do not,” Irwyn smiled, a bit teasingly, despite the grim situation.
“Let’s first get back and learn more,” she sighed. “The camp is put on high alert and the teleportation hub will give us priority. Alice is already checking the platform for us. Here.”
They left the Voidways and were almost immediately intercepted by a clerk leading them towards one of the many platforms hosted there, somewhere presumably deep within City Black. It took a few moments longer for Alice to send over her go-ahead. Moments later they were back in Ebon Respite, heading towards the already arranged meeting.
Alice was also invited, deciding to swallow two pills of painkillers to help with her soul related migraine. Elizabeth assured her that she would look after her in case of any side effects, though the Time mage assured them that even with the pain dimmed the meeting would be agonizing. Soon enough they made it to Elizabeth’s central building. There, at the first floor, all of the officers had already gathered, awaiting her.
“The missing soldiers - all manaless - were on their way to confirm a report from our Guild contacts,” one of the Lieutenants - … - Irwyn had given up remembering their name, it was the one who led their first platoon, spoke, expression rather grim. “Our equipment has detected a small flaring of mana at the same time their lifebound marks shattered at our end.”
“We need to get in touch with my contacts,” Irwyn suggested. “Perhaps…”
“I am already here,” a new voice sounded, making all the officers flinch away from it. To them it was disturbing for Waylan to seemingly just materialize behind them, unseen, unperceived. That usually implied a mage far stronger than them, rather than a mortal man merely supernaturally competent at stealth.
“Waylan,” Elizabeth spoke his name, bringing the room back to order through her calm. “Your people have already heard then?”
“I went straight here, but yeah,” he nodded. “I think half the city will know at least a bit of it by the end of the day.”
“What exactly happened?” Elizabeth frowned.
“We had no visual on the events,” the scarred woman in charge of the penal platoon replied. Certainly not the answer Elizabeth had wanted but Irwyn had noticed that their company had rather… limited means of gathering information.
“A pillar of light happened,” was Waylan’s
“Elaborate,” Elizabeth frowned.
“People saw a pillar of Light rise from several streets over,” Waylan nodded. “Except those people probably had no clue it happened right where your lads were standing. My friend made sure they were followed in case someone dumb tried to jump them. There was no trace they had ever been there by the time the light was gone.”
“Why would the attack be so showy?” Irwyn frowned.
“Standard doctrine,” the scarred woman spoke again. “As per our procedures, one of them was carrying a volatile magnifying talisman. It does j… little to protect them but when someone tries to hit them with magic, well, there are fireworks… lightworks? Good for making sure nothing sneakily slits their throats.”
“There was certainly little throat left to cut,” Waylan commented drily. “Though perhaps the makers had hoped for more collateral damage.”
“Can we know whether they were aiming to kill or to capture?” Elizabeth asked, ignoring the sneak.
“Undead don’t take prisoners,” Irwyn pointed out.
“We do not know for sure the attack is undead in nature,” she said.
“It does seem likely though,” Alice said. She seemed pale despite the medication.
“I have heard of undead capturing soldiers to replace them,” the penal lieutenant shook her head.
“We make no assumptions yet,” Elizabeth said. “Very little is known so far. First of all, whoever gave that tip - find them.”
“Being tracked down already, probably,” Waylan nodded. Aaron would think of that, surely.
“Then the place, on the map,” she nodded at Waylan, then pointed at the large map of Ebon Respite that had always hung unused on the back wall.
“Ugh,” Waylan suppressed a flinch. “I don’t exactly know where. Not much enough to even guess, really.”
“Fine, later then,” she nodded despite that. “Back to my first question: Is capture a possibility?”
“Not anymore, their lifemarks are broken,” the first Platoon’s Lieutenant shook his head – he seemed grimmer than usual. “But it is true it cannot be ruled out. Had the assailants known about the amplification talisman they would not have likely triggered it - and undead would at least know it was a possibility. It is plausible that the soldiers were killed in the explosion caused by the talisman itself.”
“Thank you, lieutenant Shwartz,” Elizabeth nodded, perhaps at Irwyn. He tried to commit the name to memory for the next few minutes. “Though actual undead might intentionally take a misstep just to confuse us.”
“We need to be ready if an actual incursion starts,” Irwyn said. “It would spread like a wildfire.”
“No spike in necromantic magic as far as our equipment can tell,” Shwartz shook his head. “If undead were being raised in number we would know immediately. No, this was a targeted attack.”
“Then why attack just regular soldiers?” Irwyn questioned.
“Because those would be the easiest to extract information from,” Elizabeth concluded. “They could even alter their memories so as to forget any such encounter ever occurred afterwards. Or just harvest intelligence from a distance if skilled enough.”
“Light magic implies they might have been intending to bind them first,” Shwartz guessed. “Therefore, it is unlikely our enemy has the strongest grip on Soul magic. Possibly there is not even a necromancer, just a small group of infiltrators.”
“Which would only be sent here either to secure some kind of strategic advantage or for an assassination,” Elizabeth said with a frown. “But we can really only guess.
“We do not know enough,” Irwyn nodded.
“But how do we learn more?” Alice asked.
“Just sending people to look won’t do any good,” Waylan opined.
“Bait it is,” the penal Lieutenant nodded, earning a glare from her tattooed once subordinate.
“That would be risky,” Irwyn shook his head. “We have no idea how powerful they might be.”
“We do not actually need to find them,” Elizabeth interrupted.
“What do you mean?” Irwyn frowned.
“Our goal is to prevent an undead incursion,” she said. “Not hunt down any trace of rot.”
“A small group can still do severe damage,” Alice said.
“Ebon Respite has no real strategic targets,” Elizabeth shrugged. “The closest thing to one are the manofactoriums and an attack one of those would cause enough ruckus that they can be taken out by one of the very bored and powerful mages waiting for deployment in City Black.”
“The undead could infiltrate deeper while we abstain from action,” Irwyn pointed out.
“They can do that no matter what we do. The inquisition will have to do a sweep through the city’s governance either way.”
“So we just… wait?” Alice asked with a frown.
“Exactly,” Elizabeth nodded. “From what we know right now anything else is taking a pointless risk. We can afford to be patient and respond to our enemy’s next move when we are better prepared for it. For the moment we will postpone vacations and restructure our doctrine - it is not suitable against a small but powerful group. In the meantime, we shall warn the manufactoriums to improve their security and give them a way to get in contact in case of an attic. Until we know more no essential personnel will so much as take a step outside of camp. Any questions?”
“What about me?” Waylan asked.
“With your skill at stealth you are naturally an exception,” Elizabeth nodded. “Not to mention technically external personnel. Anything else?” no one else contradicted her. “Then dismissed for the moment. We will discuss later what concrete steps to take.”
And so the lieutenants filtered out, each wearing a frown. Alice and Waylan remained behind alongside Irwyn though. It was him who spoke up first. “Are we really just going to sit around doing nothing?”
“Is there something wrong with that?
“It just feels… incorrect,” Irwyn admitted. “We have seen in Abonisle what the undead can get up to when given time.”
“If it even is undead in nature,” Elizabeth stressed.
“Sure,” Alice rolled her eyes, then sighed. “I am heading to bed. Trecha will probably have a speech about the painkillers too before he agrees to have someone check on me.”
“We need to keep our minds open,” the other heiress shrugged, ignoring the rant. “And I am not completely abandoning investigation. Waylan, you had mentioned your friend was looking into things.”
“Yes, Aaron likes a puzzle,” the boy nodded. “I cannot know how many clues there even are though.”
“Keep us updated,” she nodded, looking back at the map. “For now we wait but we will prepare.”
****
Irwyn would have thought that an encounter with the enemy, even a remote one, would be followed by some excitement. Unfortunately, it ended up being the exact opposite. As per Elizabeth’s decision, almost no one left the camp anymore. That very much included him. Gone was his schedule of visiting the Tears twice a week.
It only took him a few days to realize that it was exactly those more social occasions that had allowed him to relax and focus on his training most of his days… or perhaps it was just the sudden tension catching up to him. Either way, Irwyn found his progress suddenly sluggish. His attempts at imagining new magic uninspired.
Alice seemed no different in that regard, their tea-accompanied meetings with Elizabeth soon progressing into happening far more often than for meals and business but genuine attempts at the leisure they suddenly craved. Perhaps sensing that Waylan came to visit almost daily, always poking fun at their security which failed to so much to glimpse a trace of his arrival or departure in broad daylight.
The undead refused to make another move. No sign of anything awry happening on the equipment the army had. Those magical apparatuses had, much to Elizabeth’s chagrin, been running at full capacity ever since the attack. It was the first time Irwyn had found out there was an option of not doing so, as well as any details of their functions really. What he came to understand was that the enchantment was expensive to keep up and suffered damage from use.
“It seems this is not going to work,” it was after a week of such that Elizabeth revisited their strategy. “These undead are patient.”
“I thought we did not know for sure it was undead?” Irwyn asked with a smirk.
“Very funny,” she rolled her eyes. “Odds were they would have done something by now.”
“Dead don’t have no lifespan urging them forward,” Waylan shrugged. “Why would they hurry?”
“They are driven by their hatred of the living, this is well known,” Alice shook her head. “My grandfather taught me that 99 out of 100 undead were incapable of holding themselves back from killing for more than a few hours. And those who could tended to be the necromancers who had turned to undeath willingly.”
“Exactly my thought process,” Elizabeth nodded. “Six days is considered the 99th percentile of their patience. That means that whatever we are dealing with, unfortunately, most likely has endless restraint.”
“What do we do then?” Irwyn wondered.
“We will start sending out patrols again,” she sighed. “I am sure the Guild has gathered some suspicious rumours for them to pursue.”
“Won’t they just get picked off?” Waylan frowned.
“Possibly,” she nodded. “Which is why we will be taking several countermeasures. If we cannot outlast them, we need to at least know what we are dealing with.”
“The Lieutenants won’t like that,” Alice frowned. “Especially Shwartz, he seems to care for his men to some degree.”
“Does he?” Elizabeth seemed surprised. “I never noticed.”
“First Platoon, right?” Irwyn confirmed.
“Irw, even I know that by this point,” Waylan rolled his eyes at him, then turned back towards Elizabeth, perhaps staring a bit.
“All it took was talking with his soldiers,” Alice nodded. “He seemed upset for days after the last attack - two of the casualties were his men. Shwartz also promised to attend to funeral service when it happens eventually. Not how someone uncaring would act.”
“We can use second or third then,” Elizabeth decided.
“And what, they just get picked off again?” Waylan said.
“We will be paying much closer attention this time and send several such patrols at once,” Elizabeth explained. “We will be able to estimate numbers, power, perhaps more elements.”
“They will expect the amplifiers this time for sure,” Alice pointed out.
“We have more tricks to equip pawns with,” Elizabeth assured.
“Then I suppose I should go get your excuses,” Waylan nodded. The next breath he was gone. If Irwyn had to guess, rushing out of the camp.
“He just… left?” Alice asked after a moment, surprised. They were quite literally in the middle of discussing strategy, even if in a less official setting. Elizabeth did not seem overjoyed by it either.
“Waylan doesn’t like this, you know,” Irwyn sighed.
“Like what?” Elizabeth fully frowned and Alice also looked over.
“Sacrifice,” Irwyn said. “The very idea of it.”
“Ah,” Elizabeth paused as if it had not ever occurred to her - perhaps it had not.
“You certainly seem… indifferent,” Alice also seemed surprised by the obvious revelation as she spoke.
“I never cared much,” Irwyn shrugged. “But Waylan… well, we had what we called the ‘Trials’ in the Tears. Perhaps they still do it, I haven’t asked. It was a simple concept really: Everyone had to earn their keep as an adult. So, after each Solstice, we would take everyone who had turned 12 and sent them out to work.”
“As thieves,” Alice noted.
“Or robbers, burglars, blackmailers occasionally,” Irwyn nodded, though the last was not too common a choice for young teenagers. He only remembered it because it was how Aaron earned his first bits of wealth. “They had years of training and some support from their elders. But, you know, there were never that many of us and it was rather hands-off.”
“Wouldn’t a lot of them get caught,” Elizabeth frowned. “Inexperienced thieves seem like a bad matchup against career guards and paranoid shopkeepers.”
“They were taught for years, Old Crow seemed to always know how to uncover latent talents too,” Irwyn nodded. “Which meant a third usually made it all the way through their first weak. Third of that through the first month. Then the attrition slowed down, though we would lose older adults from time to time.”
“That is too much,” Alice opined. “Even mortal mercenaries don’t have attrition that bad when getting bloodied.”
“Well, some got locked up and we could get them out for a second shot,” Irwyn nodded. “The issue, unfortunately, often wasn’t the work. It was not getting shanked on the way to and from. We lived in a pretty bad area and reputation only goes so far, especially when I was younger. People only started to be wary of us when we robbed another gang out of existence for going too far and that was only about four or so years ago.”
“That sounds… unpleasant,” Elizabeth was clearly at a loss for words. Alice’s frown revealed that she still didn’t think the numbers added up but was not going to push the issue.
“Well, it seems to be better now,” Irwyn shrugged. “And as I said, I never cared that much. Could scarcely remember the kids. Waylan though… well, he always despised the Trials even if he never spoke up against it. He just cares for people more than a thief ought to, I suppose.”
“Now I feel bad for involving him in this,” Alice sighed.
“If you have any alternatives I am listening,” Elizabeth glanced her way, then at Irwyn. “This plan has only been discussed between us so far.”
“I have nothing besides just waiting more,” Irwyn admitted. He had spent some time during the week pondering options and it always came down to the same hurdle: Most plans involved putting himself in major danger against undead of unknown power. The rest of his ideas usually came down to reinforcements which made them barely solutions and more wishful thinking about someone else cleaning up their mess. It was not like Elizabeth couldn’t force some help to come, it would just be wasteful if it wasn’t warranted. And Irwyn had a distinct feeling she wanted to solve things herself if the odds seemed reasonable.
“Nothing either,” Alice shook her head.
“Then we break it to the Lieutenants,” Elizabeth nodded. “Perhaps they will have thought of something.”
They had not. Neither were they too happy about Elizabeth’s plan. Irwyn watched as Elizabeth tried and failed to get most on board. The speech was fine and eloquent, it was just that none - except perhaps the scarred woman in charge of the penal platoon - seemed particularly eager to make any sacrifices.
Irwyn also watched as not a single one so much as hinted at their dissatisfaction – false smiles and nods of agreement was their response. He wondered if Elizabeth had noticed. He had, after all, spoken with her about the fear that her family name was bound to inspire. It was, in a way, gratifying to see that these career war mages feared that insignia just as any thief would.
What Irwyn was not looking forward to was coaxing Waylan into things. His friend would come around to it, Irwyn knew. It would not be without much grumbling and mood spoiling. Either way, he agreed with Elizabeth’s assessment that staying idle was not working. So, he steeled himself and played out the upcoming argument in his head. Waylan was going to return sooner rather than later.
Comments
Lars de Tombe
Thanks for the chapter!
Simon
I can only agree here.
Observer Whimsy
Hey dude! Your work here is genuinely amazing. You’ve set a rigorous schedule for yourself, especially with uni, and still continue to put out amazing, high quality writing. That is fucking hard. I say this because, not only should you be proud, you shouldn’t hesitate to take breaks. Take care of yourself. After Tom Van Dyke disappeared, i just can’t stress enough how important that is. We, as the fans, will happily wait. Your work will stand any tests of time, so please don’t hesitate to take time to chill and let the writers block pass. Mental health first! Best of luck!
