25 - A hidden Watcher

I built my fortress upon Precursor ruins.

We dug deep into the stone, with my vassals, and we unearthed great, terrible wonders. The High Queen received her share, and praised me greatly, raising me to the rank of duke.

I built high towers and great holdings. Most importantly, I founded the University, and attracted great scholars and powerful mages from all over the Kingdoms.

With grain from the south, we built a great city here in the north, dedicated to the study of the ancients.

Merchants brought us new relics, the University began new excavations, and soon, Rakavdon became the great metropolis of the North, an impossible flower blooming in the frozen soil.

As our fame grew, and its treasures were depleted, the very first ruin lost importance. There are still underground levels, but they’re deep and protected by dangerous magic, and scholars believe the relics within might be too complex and arcane for us to use. So, we focus on easier picking in the many other excavations.

And yet, as my flesh fades into the Else, and I feel its call, my material success and temporal power seems less and less important to me.

I think more and more about those deep, half-forgotten ruins, and the great mysteries within.

Most of all, I think about the Black Door, which none could open or bypass.

What wonders or terror might wait behind?

* Duke Eicharaich of the Thaumocracy, in his memories

“You’re looking at the news?” Kaelich asks, sleepy, “Tell me the sky is broken, demons are pouring in, the Black Liar is back, so I can go back to bed and sleep while the world ends.”

As xe says that, xe shuffles to the breakfast table and collapses on a chair next to me.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Sorivel says, hastily making the Captain’s sign.

“But we have a double shift today, I hate those,” Kaelich whines. “And guarding the archaeologists sounds like torture.”

Xir tone is flippant, but my heart skips a beat. I felt real dread in front of the Black Door, the certainty that something terrible was close. Kaelich seemed almost unaffected, but maybe I misread xem - it wouldn’t be a first, reading people’s emotions was never something I was good at.

“So…you felt that too?” I ask. “That place is wrong, and dangerous. It affects the mind so strongly, I fear keeping watch inside the precursor site could compromise our effectiveness.”

Kaelich frowns.

“What- uh, you mean that Black Door thingie,” xe says, shrugging. “No, I hear a whisper if I look at it, but nothing worse. It’s just that there’s no StemLink connection in the cave, so the only way I have to pass the time is to look at the hot grad student. Which wouldn’t be bad, but he clearly doesn’t like me so he probably won’t sleep with me.”

Xe stops, widening xir eyes, as if suddenly struck by an idea. “Or…. do you think he’s the kind who’d hate-fuck me? He looks the type of person who’d enjoy that.”

Sorivel groans, and I pinch my nose.

“Let’s stop that conversation here, for the sake of our sanity,” I say. “Let’s rewind to your questions about the news, since we should pay attention to them. There have been five significant magical incidents in the three days since the attack in Valanes. All involved high-level mages fighting each other - even if none was anywhere as destructive as the one in Valanes. Mainstream media ignore the facts, and ThauCon bulletins dance around the issue, but it’s pretty clear two factions are fighting.”

“Do we know who’s fighting whom?” Kaelich asks, while munching corn flakes. This time, xe covers xir mouth with a hand. Progress. “And isn’t it good if villains fight each other? That’s how you win in Xenowatch 4 - you pit the Star Devourer swarm against the fungoids.”

“Nothing good comes from that which is fundamentally evil,” Sorivel answers.

Kaelich rolls xir eyes, then points xir spoon at Sorivel, in a mock threat. “That’s what a Fungoid would say. I should check you for mycelium next time we’re in the pool.”

Xe definitely played too much videogames this week. And Sorivel blushes so quickly at the words hot pool, I suspect his already bad crush on our brainless corporal is getting worse.

“I’m with Sori on this one,” I say. “The last time two major terror groups fought, there were thousands of civilian deaths. And whatever they are fighting for, the outcome can’t be good for us. But on the other hand, it’s clear this is not a new Mage Rebellion. So, it’s bad, but not so bad you can go to bed and wait for the world’s end.”

And if I play my cards right, and Quicksilver isn’t feeding me bullshit, I’ll be back in a position where I can do something meaningful, before a new rebellion comes. I’m not going to waste my time watching an incredibly creepy academic curiosity, when the Agency will fight for the world’s destiny.

“So, which factions are fighting?” Sorivel asks. “Is the Faceless Army really involved?”

“The bulletin doesn’t state it outright,” I say, “but reading between the lines… yes, it’s the Faceless, fighting the new Syndicate Cartel. I don’t think anyone knows who started it, or why. It’s not clear, either, if other factions are involved. The Black Library is hostile to the Syndicate Cartel, but they don’t like the Faceless, either, and there’s no proof of their involvement so far.”

I’m dying for a chat with Quicksilver, but I had no answer since I sent my slightly treasonous report. I’m not really surprised – Intelligence agents probably haven’t slept in the last three days, and the situation in Rakavdon seems to be stable, despite that Syndicate attack in the metro. So, I’m hardly high priority.

“My head hurts,” Kaelich says. “Why are there so many bad guys.”

I rub my temples, to distract myself from the need to point out that I mentioned three factions, how can anyone have problems counting up to three.

“Be thankful they’re divided,” Sorivel says, hastily making some more religious sign with his hands. “If all rogue mages were united in a single group… Captain help us.”

Someone walks to us, dragging their feet on the floor - it’s Althea, sleepy-faced and gorgeous. With frazzled hair and puffy eyes, she makes me want to hug her and cuddle her back to sleep. Not that our relationship is anywhere near that, of course - sleeping together is several notches more intimate than sex, most of the datasphere relationship guides I checked agree on that.

And with all these double shifts and news of catastrophic magical attacks, we haven’t even managed to make out again. Was that a one-off thing, or are we going to make it a regular activity? Not that I’ve given it much thought, of course. I can sort my priorities. Maybe we can snatch a few hours together on Engday’s, though? Should I suggest we agree on a time in advance, or would that be weird?

“Do you have to talk about serious stuff in the morning,” Althea says, sitting next to me. She makes a disdainful gesture, and a jug of milk flies into her hands, dripping green light along the way.

“Do you have to use the Dark Power that doomed our world to fetch your breakfast?” Sorivel says, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“You can bring me breakfast in bed, if you care that much about it,” she says, shrugging. “I’m not going to walk every time I want something, like I’m some mundane.”

Sorivel used to be truly upset about that, but now he hides a smile.

“Don’t start arguing before lunch, you’re both grumpy” Kaelich says, a hint of annoyance in xir voice. “Double shifts are bad enough without the two of you behaving like preschoolers.”

Sorivel looks away, blushing, and Althea looks surprised, then she laughs. Her laugh is so lively - I remember kissing her in the pool, and her hand clutching mine in front of the Black Door. That almost makes me want to face the horrific artifact again.

This is getting seriously distracting. We really should settle our sort-of-relationship status.

“Wow, you almost sounded like a legit officer, Kaelich,” Althea says. “Anyway, Sorivel started it, but I’ll be the bigger woman and ignore the fact he’s being a dick. I’ll change the topic, ok? I read something you could be happy about.”

She slaps her tablet on the table, harder than I would recommend, and opens a news site. She must go through a lot of electronics, the tablet screen is already cracked.

Special recruiting for the Council of Mages approved - Senate greenlights five thousand new recruits.

“That’s, uh, good?” Kaelich says, sounding confused. “More council mages?”

She sighs. “That’s good, of course, but not what I meant. To get new recruits, they relaxed the usual criteria. Basically, they’ll enlist a lot of young mages who were sentenced to re-ed. I checked the enrollment list, and it includes that little shit who almost went nova, Vakris.”

Kaelich beams. “That’s great! I felt so bad about him getting re-ed.”

“Do they really want him in the Council?” I ask. “I admit re-education was pointless punishment in his case. But he clearly had control problems. Silver tattoos would have been preferable.”

Althea scoffs.

“He was just unlucky with the timing of his veil-breaking,” she says. “Control can be taught - with an actual teacher, almost every mage learns it quickly, without the need of re-ed. But Vakris specifically has real talent. Whatever is happening, the Council needs a lot of real powerful mages to deal with it, and the Senate is finally recognizing that.”

Sorivel looks at his glass - full of plain water, of course.

“I used to think relying on the Council to fight mages was a misguided, self-defeating strategy,” he says, slowly, as if the admission pained him. “Sniffers like me can find mages, silver and theta disruptors can do the rest. But now… I’m not sure drones and silver bullets could kill a mage like the one who sliced that building in Valanes. So, let’s get as many council mages as we can, I guess. And may the Captain forgive us.”

***

As soon as the university opens, together with Team Green we go keep watch on the useless relics and the horrific door.

“No one wants to go anywhere near that fucking door,” Corporal Gehat says, curt. “But by our orders, we need one team down in the Precursor site. I could order you guys to go, but I’m not that much of an asshole. How do we do this? We draw lots?”

“Actually, I don’t mind watching the Door, and neither does Althea,” Kaelich says. I see Sorivel go rigid, and my stomach clenches. “But Ceri and Sori hate it. I think it hits people differently. What if we mix the teams? How are you guys doing with the Door?”

Korras, Team Green’s huge blademaster, shrugs. “It’s not half as bad as the shit I’ve seen in Saevin. I’ll go.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Not as bad, but it makes my skin crawl in the same exact way,” Gehat says, and she jerks back, as if recoiling from a memory.

“I’m starting to think the Door’s creepiness affects smart people,” Team green’s techie, An Koi - a short woman with icy eyes - says. “So Korras, who’s dumb as a brick, doesn’t feel it. Sergeant Gehat is smart, she feels it. Since I’m half smart, I half feel it. But it’s not bad. I can go.”

“Great!” Kaelich says - either not noticing, or not caring, that xe’s just been called stupid. “Let’s keep a common channel and we’ll be fine.”

Part of me feels weak for not insisting to join them, or rotate at least. But it’s clear Kaelich honestly doesn’t care about the Door, and Korras looks at least ok with it. Insisting to take a role I’m not suited for would be irrational.

I hate being unsuited for something. But I hate the Black Door even more, so I’m relieved as the others go down, and we stay on the upper floor, guarding the Relic Vault. Even if that means leaving Athea, and staying with Team Green’s disgusting oily mage, Jaeleri.

Honestly, I don’t mind this assignment. Guard duty is boring, and I wish there was better heating, but at least this level is silent and almost devoid of people. Crossing the student-infested upper levels stresses me out almost as much as facing the Black Door.

“Looks like we’re stuck together for a while,” Gehat says, looking at Sorivel and me, without much enthusiasm.

“So is the Captain’s will,” Sorivel says. He’s very serious, and I know his faith is sincere, but I’m starting to think he also does it to annoy people. It’s strange to realize that one can care deeply about something, and still make it… a sort of a joke.

Gehat snorts and leads us to the Relic Vault - the one modern door, with an electronic pad and ID scanner, in the long sequence of old, wrought iron doors which are probably locked in place by rust.

“I’m not sure this setup is tactically sound,” I say. “We’re very close to the room we’re guarding, standing in clear view. If a mage came by the stairs, they’d be about fifteen meters from us, and we’d have no advanced warning.”

“Speak for yourselves,” Sorivel makes a little smile, which if I didn’t know him better I’d consider smug. “I sent Truth to watch over the closest stairwell, and Curiosity guards the other one. We’ll have plenty of warning before anyone gets into this hallway.”

“Can’t you just follow our orders, without overthinking?” Gehat asks, with a hint of exasperation. “They won’t pay you more if you overthink it, you know. And sorry if I’m a simple woman, but if we must guard a room, standing in front of it seems like a solid strategy to me.”

I bite my tongue, feeling a sudden rush of appreciation for Kaelich, who at least tries to do xir job decently. And often does whatever I suggest anyway, so xe can focus on flirting with random strangers.

“Maybe we should try thinking a little bit, just for a change, if we like to be alive,” Jaeleri says. He’s slouching against the wall, looking like a bundle of red rags. It’s incredible how the same uniform can look so elegant on Althea and so shabby on him. Of course, the fact that he probably didn’t change it in the last week doesn’t help.

“Get to the point, if you have to speak,” Gehat snaps.

“My point,” Jaeleri says, resentment thick in every word, “is that there’s an ID scanner by the stairs, since below ground floor, access is restricted to University personnel. That means any mage who reaches this door already has a fake ID good enough to fool the system. Since the magical factions, unlike ThauCon, don’t just hire any idiot who can point a gun, they’ll have some basic competence, and come here only if they already have an authorization to enter the Vault. That’s not hard, we’ve seen undergrad students go inside! So, realistically, if a mage wants to rob the Vault, they’ll just smile at us and open the door.

“Alternatively, if a mage comes here without a good fake ID, it means they’re so powerful, that don’t care about being found out, in which case they can kill us all by wiggling their pinkie. So, what are we really doing here, O wise Sargeant? Are we wasting our time, are we waiting to be killed, or both?”

He’s so grating, I want to tell him to just shut up, but a mantra from Intelligence stops me - never discount an argument because of the person who made it. I can’t stand the lazy, perpetually hostile mage. But he’s not wrong.

“Can’t you just tell us if someone is a mage? That would solve the problem,” I ask.

Jaeleri snorts.

“Can’t you just shoot a mage if they come here? That would solve the problem, too” he answers.

I’m starting to think the black door would be better than any assignment with Jaeleri. No surprise Gehat is always in a sour mood.

“I don’t know what Jaeleri can do, besides getting on everyone's nerves and using his unholy powers to sin against creation,” Sorivel says, “but I can answer Cerical’s question as far as my own abilities are concerned. I can usually tell quite easily if someone is a mage – Disincarnation looks really obvious in the Else, I see Loannu and Za Ruik from outside the base, for example. But a skilled mage can fully incarnate if they focus on it, and then they look like any regular person. And a young mage, of course, wouldn’t have started to disincarnate yet – Althea and Jaeleri look normal in the Else, until they use their magic.

“Any mage who works for the Faction surely knows this, and will make sure to stay fully incarnated while inside the University. So, unless they actually Cast or Channel in my presence, I won’t be able to recognize a mage. If they’re good, they might sneak Bound spells past me, like a Lie changing their features, or even an invisibility ward.”

Once again, I realize ThauCon’s basic training on magic is horrifically lacking. It made sense in class - they taught us we’d find mages by patient investigation, by signature detection, and by looking for the signs of disincarnation. Young mages are harder to detect because they have a fully physical body, but they usually can’t hide their signature. I know well the capabilities and limits of Theta detectors, but we barely ever spoke about how Sniffers and Council mages can detect magical activity.

Except it’s already obvious that the way ThauCon actually works is to rely almost entirely on them to find mages. And our textbooks and guidelines ignore that, so we aren’t taught about the possibilities - and limitations - of this approach. A pity I was expelled before we even began to study fieldcraft.

Every ThauCon trainee should know this, though. Don’t the higher-ups realize that training without a Council Agent is a ridiculous, glaring flaw in ThauCon’s education? We already need mages’ help to catch other mages, why can’t we actually collaborate on every step of the process?

“So, we should be suspicious of young people,” I say, trying to adapt our strategy to the realities Jaeleri pointed out.

“This is a university,” Jaeleri says, rolling his eyes, “most people here are young-ish.”

“Aeniki,” I say, since we have comms open, and you can safely assume she’s always listening, “do you think you could tell if a student has a fake ID?”

“Hm,” she mutters through my earpiece, sounding less bored than usual. “Depends on how good a fake it is. And more importantly, on how much information I can use to cross-check. That would be much easier if I could access the University database. A mage posing as a student would have a sketchy, incomplete academic record, or would be a recent transfer. But Vorokan privacy laws are idiotic, so I need a specific warrant to look up any student.”

“Most students will have Stemlink,” Sorivel says. “A mage can’t have implants. It could narrow down our suspect list.”

“I wouldn’t be that sure,” Jaeleri mumbles. “Rumor maybe. But I heard the Hidden Schools found a way to make implants that work for mages.”

“And where did you hear that?” I ask.

He shrugs, slowly, making a large, fake smile - I’ve never seen him actually smile. “Here and there.”

Is he being difficult for no reason? Or does he really have some source about the Hidden Schools? But if that was the case, why would he speak so carelessly about it?

I hate the whole reading people thing, it was consistently my weakest point in Intelligence school. People are terrible at communicating and make no sense in general.

“We are overthinking it, honestly,” Sorivel says. “After all, realistically, if a mage came, they wouldn’t be here for the Vault.” He makes a quick Captain’s sign. “The relics here are harmless- everyone agrees on that. If a mage took the effort to infiltrate the university, it would be for the Black Door itself.”

“I still believe our job is to guard, not to think,” Gehat mumbles, “but anyway, Sorivel is right. Don’t worry too much. We’re here because some bureaucrat had a list of magical sites to cross out.”

“The unholy artifacts held here are still dangerous, for the body and the soul” Sorivel says, “but I agree we should worry more about people who go toward the excavation. That will be harder to infiltrate with a fake ID, though. The checkpoint only lets in the archaeology teams, they’re a small number and know each other, obviously. So…”

He stops mid-sentence, going rigid.

“Someone’s using magic,” he says.

Gehat picks up her rifle, fast as a snake, and puts her back to the wall, looking around the hallway. Jaeleri frowns, and his eyes flash with red, otherworldly light.

“Are you sure it’s not Althea Juggling a coffee cup?” I ask. “I mean, let’s face it, she uses magic every five minutes, especially when she’s bored.”

Sorivel shakes his head. “Not her. Wrong color and feel. Also, exactly because Althea uses magic all the time, I know her signature by now. Whatever happened, it’s over, though.”

I didn’t even know Sorivel could recognize individual mages - not that he shares much about the Else.

“Mission control”, Gehat says, her voice now sharp. “Sniffer reports magical activity. No alarm from our theta detectors. What do you read?”

A moment of pause.

“No sign of theta activity from our base’s detectors,” Aeniki answers. “Wait, I can get a telemetry from the university’s detectors, they’re less sensitive, but much closer to your position. No alarm and no obvious spike. Humans can be more sensitive than detectors, though. Jel… Mage Jaeleri, Mage Althea, did you see anything?”

“Nope,” Althea answers, cheerful. “Sori’s just having hallucinations. It happens when you catch religion.”

“Hm,” Jaeleri says. “I’m not sure. But I think I glimpsed something.”

“Let’s take no risk,” Gehat says, still checking the hallway with her rifle trained. “Mission control, get Lieutenant Sareas in the loop. Sorivel, check for anyone approaching with your drones. Everyone else, high alert until we identify the source, or we’re really sure it was a false alarm.”

“Blue leader here, I copy,” Kaelich says. “Nothing strange down here, though. Most of the archaeologists are out for lunch. Creepy black door thing isn’t creepier than usual.”

I unsheathe my blade, moving to a low guard position. It feels wrong, waiting for an enemy - most of our tactics are about rushing a mage, with surprise on our side.

“Someone’s coming down the stairs,” Sorivel says, “Oh, wait, it’s just the archaeologists coming back from lunch. Four people. Professor Adavert and her Gunner-cursed grad student, plus two researchers. Aeniki, can you check their IDs? I see no more sign of magical activity.”

“LT here,” Sareas says on the channel. “Everyone stay on high alert. We’ll keep team Gold in standby to reinforce. Mission control, keep checking for theta signals.”

“Mission control here, there’s an… anomaly,” Aeniki says. “I’m checking the university’s theta log. There is a brief signal spike, level 3.2. Magical activity, from a skilled mage.”

I feel my legs going weak, and I remember with terrible clarity the mage in the train station, that horrible moment when I was on the ground, and she looked at me with her endless blue eyes, her sword ready to cut through my body.

The world felt so terrifyingly thin, in that moment, like torn paper stretched in front of the fire of the Else.

I know fear negatively affects performance. I never realized it could affect my performance.

“What the Abyss? Why didn’t it trigger the alarms?” Sareas asks.

“This is… strange,” Aeniki answers, “the magical signature is white-listed by our system. But it’s not from any of our mages. I… don’t have the clearance to read the owner’s ID, apparently.”

As she talks, the researchers come down the stairs, wearing white overalls and carrying helmets with torches under their arms. They’re talking softly and they don’t look worried. Asshole grad student scowls at us, but he probably scowls at everyone, as a policy.

I don’t see any immediate threat. But the problem with magic is that it can do so many impossible things, you can’t prepare for them all - what if a mage is following them, invisible? What if a mage is riding the professor’s mind, or made themselves look like the insufferable student?

We have detectors, of course, plus Sorivel and Jaeleri. But if they see nothing, it either means there’s nothing to be seen, or the mage is too good. Lost Stars, I hate magic.

“Whitelisted? But not one of ours? How does that even make sense?” Sareas asks, sounding suspicious.

“It must be Council business,” Aeniki ventures. “Only Council agents can be white-listed by the system, obviously. But why weren’t we warned, if there’s a Council mage in Rakavdon? Does the Council do undercover missions?”

I relax a fraction. If it’s the Council, it’s strange, but not an immediate risk.

“Undercover missions? The Council? Are you out of your mind?” Althea says. “Council mages need a form triple-signed by the Chancellor if they want to cross the road.”

I really, really want to talk to Quicksilver. Would they give me some explanation?

“Hm,” Sareas says, “They could be supporting a mission for Bureau K or ThauCon Intelligence. Just what we needed, more mages fucking around. Keep an eye open, but if it’s the Council, no reason for alarm.”

It would make sense. ThauCon Intelligence might be sending undercover mages to guard the University, if they think it’s a target.

Except I remember Quicksilver’s words. A mage, a truly powerful one, lives in this city.

A powerful mage, who’s been here for decades. And ThauCon never learned about them.

What if that’s because our system ignores them? Could a mage get whitelisted with some trick?

Is the mysterious mage here, in the university? Or did we really stumble on some unrelated Council agent?

Whatever the truth, these are long games. I doubt we’re being attacked here and now. I relax, but keep a hand on my sword.

The group of researchers passes past us. Professor Adavert acknowledges us with a smile, while her colleagues ignore us, and Semejon, carrying a stack of books, glares. Even I can see he’s cute, if in a nerdy, scrawny way, but I really don’t think Kaelich has much of a chance.

“Any more magical activity?” Gehat asks, looking at Sorivel.

“No,” he says, moving his fingers in mid-air - a few of his drones zip past us, following the researchers. “But… I don’t know if that really was the council. That magic felt angry. Doctor, help us, it was so angry.”

***