“Plan for what is difficult while it is easy, do what is great while it is small.”
- Sun Tzu, The Art of War
The man cut the small string binding the printed rag and unfolded it on the table bearing indelible stains from many a spilled supper. An oil lamp flickered in the middle and shed an uncertain illumination while black smoke rose to the sooty spot on the ceiling left after many such evenings.
‘The passing of a great person! King Vilander Andrealphus Constantin von Margrinar- an obituary.’
‘Attack on the Surnfeldt Manufactorium. Workers escaped unharmed, building burnt to the ground. Republicans declare responsibility.’
‘Exhibition Fiasco! Famous Magister Drathur Illimen of the Academy of the Arts ready for retirement? Councilor Grenzwald accuses Magister of negligence.’
‘Famous Witches of the Past. Drawings by renowned artist Victor Pullwinkel inside.’
‘The terrors of our time. An essay by political philosopher Uther Banbridge about the underlying causes of the Republican Phenomenon.’
‘Mystery around the god of mystery! Is the new Lightbringer a student? Conjecture and guesses inside!’
The man stroked his mustache and slicked back the few hairs still left on his mostly bald pate. Licking his lips he searched for the pictures by his favorite artist and just as he revealed the drawing of a voluptuous woman wearing scandalously scanty clothes and holding a wand with a sinister smile, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder.
“You are not looking at them dirty pictures again- are you, Fred?!” The voice of his wife of nearly twenty years brought a cold sweat to his forehead.
Folding the incriminating evidence under the philosophical dissertation he answered. “No, dear, I was just reading this fascinating article about the Republicans.”
“Ah, those sods. But what they did with the ‘factorum was a right good idea, mind. My brother lost his leg there and they did not even pay his last wage, simply kicked him out. Would have been even better if master Surnfeldt had been inside when it burnt!”
“Tilly, be careful. They have arrested Jim from down the road for seditious talk. I don’t want to visit you in prison.”
“If I go to prison you will damn well visit me.” Tilly grabbed his ear and twisted.
“Aaaaaah! I…didn’t...aaaaah.”
“Yes?”
“Certainly, dear.”
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The Palace
Lieseleta walked down the great hall garbed in all the finery of state. Heloise was a half step behind and in front of them stood the high priest of Gesserach, High-Father Klaus von Zettloh.
Around them arrayed in ordered ranks were the nobles that had been available and willing to be present for the formal investment of the designated heir and the announcement of the regency.
An amulet lying against her chest, enchanted with strength and endurance, helped immensely because as had been common of late the princess had slept badly interrupted by nightmares of Carl’s death or him killing her and his father.
Unfriendly, calculating, or demonstratively gentle eyes weighed on her. ‘No one here can be fully trusted.’ Perhaps with a bit of time, she could further ascertain the position of Alea’s family who seemed quietly supportive which earned them her abiding gratefulness.
The prime minister had been a friend of the royal family since his time in the Academy of the Arts when Vilander had also been staying there. They had met and befriended each other in the fire magic class of all things. He would support her for this alone.
“We are gathered here in the light of Gesserach’s grace…”
After everything was settled she bestowed honors upon those that had stood by her side. Mostly it was some small honor or even a gift of gold or precious jewelry. But there were exceptions- Kadira looked completely out of place as she walked up to her with sinuous movements, cobra hood slightly flared gold-scaled clothes, silk probably, swishing around her lithe form.
Whispers surrounded her and she saw discomfort or outright hostility on many faces.
But debts have to be paid and to gain the admiration and loyalty of people who had none to give or reward someone who had already done their best to keep their end of the deal- she would pay her debts and take the good with the bad.
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Wisteria Dorm
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Alyssa lowered the impure mana jewel into the makeshift receptacle and closed the screws holding it in place. The tip of her tongue was caught between her teeth which escaped her notice but amused Mireille who was playing with Cyrus nearby.
The coffer she was working on had four boards affixed to the interior sides carved with runes and covered with a metallic looking paint. Several rods made of a coppery alloy led to a copper ‘egg’ in the lower right corner that still showed a bit of the muddy blue mana crystal fixed in place with several screws. The rods were not yet attached.
Righting herself she grinned nervously. “Nothing to it, I hope everything goes well.”
“Do you think you should perhaps- you know- do it outside? We only have this one dorm room.” Mireille said half-jokingly looking a bit worried.
“No, there is not much that could go wrong.”
Mireille winced at the choice of words.
...Alyssa continued blithely, “So without further ado.” She spoke a spell and connected the rods to the copper receptacle. A humming noise sounded and intensified until it began to hurt the ears. Space twisted and the interior of the coffer seemed to swim into and out of focus while the runes lit up with a pale grey light. The wood creaked alarmingly and the copper alloy rattled. Then the painful tone began to subside and only a background whisper remained as the formation stabilized. The interior of the coffer seemed strangely big as if looked at from a distance even while seen up close. The contradiction made for a headache-inducing spectacle.
Alyssa looked up and saw Mireille holding her ears with a pained grimace while Alea stood beside her with an intrigued look on her face.
Mireille mouthed, ‘Is it over?’ Without letting go of her ears to which Alea nodded.
“Puh! That was awful!”
Alea nodded appreciatively, “This looks good. The jewel will last for up to two months, probably. So it should be enough time for our field training. I will be able to fit a lot of my workshop materials in there. Thank you.” She smiled.
Alyssa brushed the sweat from her forehead and looked at a rune that seemed to flicker a bit. ‘Next time it will be even better!’ But her plans to enchant her backpack would have to be put on hold for the moment. The delicate spellwork that required would possibly need Vanessa’s expertise. She couldn’t for the life of her imagine how she would accomplish it on her own- for now at least.
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A certain cursed mansion
Vanessa raised her head from the khopesh and looked at Iseret. “Did you say something?”
“No, but I can as well ask- Is it finished?”
“Yes. I was only just checking to see if the metal would be up to the task. Conducting mana that is not metal in nature does tend to weaken a blade. But I think I have minimized that risk and I put a strengthening rune in the hilt." Looking a bit embarrassed she glanced in her friend's direction. "I wanted to make sure.”
Iseret unfolded from where she had been sitting legs crossed and for a moment her shadow seemed to be that of a large snake swaying with the shadows thrown by the elemental brazier that the vampire girl had linked to the leyline- under protest.
The curved sword was inscribed with small runes running around the edge and blunt backside and vanished beneath the wrappings around the hilt.
“Because I found it time-consuming to sprinkle the mana dust on all of those runes and get it to stick evenly I made an alteration. You can simply use a mana dust solution and immerse the top third of the blade in it. The runes will draw out and distribute the power.”
“Mh, convenient. And what about the effect?”
“I will show you.” Vanessa took the blade and pushed it into a glass beaker filled with a bluish liquid, some crystal swirled in the murky depths flickering with pale blue light. As soon as the tip was immersed in water, the blade began to shine and the runes lit up one after another while the water lost its light and color becoming a cloudy grey.
Raising the blade Vanessa turned it this way and that looking for flaws then spoke a spell and nodded. “Everything seems to be functioning correctly. Give it a try.” She pointed at a bucket propped on a heap of rubble in the corner.
“I would like to say that this should be taken care of but first- Thank you!” Iseret eyed the fallen masonry and the uncertain state of the ceiling where water dripped along an alagae-covered part of the wall to gather in a puddle on the floor that drained to somewhere the gods alone knew.
The sword was light in her hand and she looked to Vanessa for approval as she assumed a fighting stance. The elf with the blue-white hair nodded and spoke a short spell encasing the bucket with a glowing barrier.
The khopesh slashed downward only pausing for a fraction of a breath before the shield shattered and the blade carved through the bucket into the stones beneath. Ripping the blade out of the stone it had lodged in Iseret grinned. “That feels very satisfying. I can only reiterate- Thank you very much.” Inspecting the sword she nodded. “No damage to the edge. Marvelous work and I have seen some good enchantments. If you ever lack funds you could well make a living selling those.”
“Mh. I think it's sad that after hundreds of years my craft is still worthy of praise. Shouldn’t there be progress, invention? Should not someone say- Oh, that old technique is obsolete?” Vanessa frowned.
“Mh. I have been schooled in history but cannot confidently answer that. I think it might have something to do with the drowning of Allisair and the loss of many great mages and the books and workshops that were not easily transported. The first years on the continent would have been hard I suppose and clever enchanting designs were less important than functional, cheap, and easy runework. In addition, Elves have a reputation as the premier magicians of the bygone age.”
“Mh. We were blessed by Jaros and Yrgos with knowledge- the better to fulfill our obligations.”
“What obligations?”
“Another time perhaps.” Vanessa looked pensive.
“You make me curious.”
“It’s not a pleasant topic and if my conjectures are correct it is a problem to this day.”
“Even more curious now.”
“No. Not today.”
Iseret nodded, and ‘accidentally’ brushed along Vanessa’s arm while sheathing her sword. Rubbing her arms to get a bit of circulation going- the cellar was still very cold- she sat near the brazier. “Spring cannot come soon enough. Why did I have to go into the frigid north! There are perfectly acceptable southern archipelagos with a very pleasant climate.”
“This weather is unnatural. The Heartstealer is up to something and her power is causing all of this. I simply know it.” She gritted her teeth. “I’m worried about the acts of rebellion I hear talk about. It is not the time to spend on internal bickering. There is a great foe that will not grant us reprieve if we are not ready when she really focuses on us and for Rivenlorn it might be too late by then.”
“The Reborn are debating what to do, or even if we want to meddle at all. It will probably depend on further benefits.”
“Mh. I suppose that is to be expected. But take care, if you delay until the undead win then there will be nothing left worth fighting over in the end.”
“Don’t I know it.”