Things calmed down fast, by Winter’s standard, principally since she was in a forgiving, relaxed mood. Really, Carthagia had to consider himself lucky that she was so calm.

Not like Igern and the Luacae shared the sentiment, panting and massaging their almost dislocated shoulders and strained muscles, mostly giving her a glare under the veils.

“Stop wasting time, Carthagia. I’m not interested in playing these games.” Winter said, even when she very much did fall for his taunts and played his games earlier. “Keep in mind it was the Queen’s grace that allowed you to be here.”

She had been against the idea, in fact. There were around five or so more Archmages from the Knowledge or Reminiscence Paradigm in Arhontissa that could be called in place of Carthagia, none of which were one of the Mergifari founders.

The idea had been ridiculous in her eyes, so much that, if it hadn’t come from the Queen’s mouth, she would’ve accused the creator of treason.

…

“But why him?” She had asked back then “If Hasdrubal implanted thought seeds in any of their minds, Carthagia would be able to interpret them and team up with him! They wouldn’t even need to talk to each other!”

“If Hasdrubal leaves any seed, any information mage would be able to decode it, not only Carthagia.”

“You know what I’m referring to. Carthagia was Hasdrubal’s Selector. His teacher.”

“Isn’t that better?” The Queen laughed, a soft, graceful laugh that stopped Winter’s train of thought, making her choke on her tongue. “Who is better to punish an unruly student other than his teacher?”

She cleared her throat. “But how are you certain of that? His loyalty has always been to the Mergifari, not Arhontissa.”

“Indeed.”

“What do you mean?”

The Queen leaned over, looming over her from her seat. It wasn’t her throne, since that one was on Arhontissa, even so, it was relatively close in size, littered with elegant fabrics and pillows, allowing her to lay down comfortably. “Winter, do you trust my judgment?”

“Of course.”

…

“Of course.” Carthagia said, making Winter suspect of him peeking into her memories. Information Archmages were a pain in the ass for that same reason.

Well, all Archmages were a pain to deal with in some way, that’s what made them Archmages.

“Then I better get to it! Don’t want the guy to disintegrate while you dilly dally, do I?”

I’m hardly the only one dilly dall-! No, deep breaths, you can do this… Imagine snapping his neck- No, he doesn’t have one. Remember the time when you cut his head off… “Right.” She ended up saying between gritted teeth.

Carthagia hummed. “Creftalia, dear, turn around for a minute.”

“I will cover my ears too!” Not waiting a second more, she did as told, turning around and blocking her ears with charms.

“You’ve pampered her too much,” Winter complained. “She barely makes any progress.”

“Weren’t you supposed to pick a knowledge mage as selected to make her company?”

She remembered Velvet, one of the few novices from the Knowledge Paradigm from this year, who not only refused her generous offer for his, but also scared Creftalia shirtless. Not that doing so was hardly an accomplishment. “I tried to, but she chose another mag-” She choked on the word, grimacing. “Another.”

“Then you've got no one else to blame but you.”

“You-!” Deep breaths.

“Reminiscence mages need knowledge mages to advance, and knowledge mages need reminiscence mages to keep the pull of corruption away.”

She knew that. Mages whose Paradigms were related to Apathy were difficult to raise without issues. They weren’t exactly loyal, and, if left to their devices, they had a big chance of becoming witches without noticing.

Not that the latter was an issue in the Mergifari, being more of a problem of wild mages. But, since it was still an existing problem, mages with the resources available to do so usually paired apathy and apathy-adjacent mages with some “grounding” Paradigms.

Reminiscence being Knowledge’s grounder. The Paradigm focused on the results kept in check the one focused on the process. And, needing only one to figure out something, and another to repeat the result without making the previous steps was useful in its own way.

And, reminiscence mages presence kept knowledge mages feelings unburied, which stopped them from fully committing to “the end justifies the means” in their search for knowledge.

That’s why losing Velvet bothered her. Knowledge mages weren’t uncommon, but unaffiliated knowledge mages who had troubles with the mage families controlling their original country, thus being in need of protection from another place, and whose country’s deity was dead, making changing faiths easier…

Those were rare.

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Gurgling sounds coming from the corpse stopped her absentmindedness, as a dirty, whitish substance fell from the corpse’s eyes and ears, due to Carthagia removing the memories by force, destroying the brain in the process.

Soon, the white became translucid, floating instead of falling, before falling up instead of down. The gurgling sounds died down, as the now translucent, silvery liquid started flowing freely, first from the internal organs dissolving and then the skin, muscles and bones.

The whole dissolution didn’t take a minute to be complete, the spot where the mage was being now occupied by a floating, translucent mass.

None of the present mages showed any worry, since that was a normal occurrence when mages of two Escas died. The birth of a Mage Inheritance, a way to obtain a Grimoire.

Winter touched the liquid, the voice of Johan Raticheo sounding in her mind.

To the one who brings Hasdrubal’s head.

To a Raticheo by blood.

Completing any of the two petitions worked to unlock the Grimoire, but she didn’t have the means now. And the second choice was way easier.

She turned to look at Carthagia. “How much information did you get?”

“For which incompetent bastard do you take me for? I’m old, not senile!” Carthagia closed his eyes, and, after seconds of silence, Winter feared that the totally-not-senile old head had fallen asleep.

“Then?”

“Let me think, grow some patience!” Carthagia cleared his throat… or at least made a noise as if he was doing so. “You, son of Sty-”

“Igern. Don’t call me anything aside from my name.”

“Do you know where that name came from? Ah, whatever, call my granddaughter.” Igern simply grabbed Creftalia by the collar of her shirt, pulling her back and turning her around. “Can’t you be gentler?!”

That’s him being gentle… You should’ve asked me. Winter thought, not saying anything, as Creftalia removed the charms from her ears.

“Youngsters these days… back in my days we were true gentlemen!”

Wasn’t that thousand of years ago?

“Of course, what can one expect from mages raised by that no-elegance idiot…” Before Winter guessed who that no-elegance idiot was (it was her), Carthagia changed themes. “Creftalia, dear, take three steps back and two left.”

“Sure.” She did as told, no doubts in her actions.

As she took the last step, something collided with… everything, and the pocket dimension snaped.

…

Right before Lothrigern hit the ground, Velvet stopped tugging at the chains, changing into activating the formation needed to send the flesh to the other side.

The ball of flesh accumulated wasn’t much, fitting into a closed hand, but she wouldn’t risk it any more.

Cardomos had fallen, Lothrigern too. Only her and Frenese remained.

Blood freely dripped from her nose, eyes and ears, both her brain and Esca being pushed to their limits.

….

Cracks ran through the palace as it came crashing down, appearing from the air and crawling across all surfaces regardless of the material.

Creftalia fell down atop of a floor piece, the cracks running close to her but not close enough to be a danger. The same couldn’t be said about the others, who, despite being caught by surprise, reacted instantly, jumping and evading the fissures. Yet, the Luacae carrying Carthagia’s cage couldn’t keep the hold over it, as the cage fell down, clanking as it hit the palace debris and rolled away.

Yet the old man's maniacal laughter echoed across the spinning room. “Even with all your schemes, you are still a bunch of incompetent fools when real shit hits the fan!”

“Grandpa! Stop rolling across the floor!” Creftalia said, chasing after him, while tripping and rolling down.

“I would love to do so, but alas, while gravity is just a force, I’m just a head…” The old man muttered.

Luckily for them, or, more due to Carthagia’s calculations, she managed to reach and grab the cage, before taking out a protective staff and activating a shield.

Falling debris clashed against the wall, but got reflected. Instinctively, she closed her eyes while feeding the staff, ignoring the noises. After many trials and errors, she knew how much damage it cout take before needing to be replaced. And she had a lot of replacements.

“Creftalia, open your eyes!” Carthagia called. “Look up and witness what the Mergifari stands for!”

She did as told, thought begrudgingly, forcing her head up.

And soon, a formation lit up across the whole space, slowing the destruction, not only of their pocket dimension, but of all of them, all across the Mergifari, stopping all the pocket dimensions from breaking down at the same time.

“The Mergifari will be the last bastion, the lighthouse at the end of the world! Not the gods goons, nor the gods themselves could destroy it! And certainly not the Deriliam!”

Carthagia looked to the side, where Igern had jumped, close enough to them to hear the conversation, thus becoming part of it. “You have no idea of the price we paid to build the Mergifari. No, the price we are still willing to pay. We can give everything to keep it standing, can any of you do the same for your goals? From our life to our death-”

…

Three seconds, two seconds… Velvet kept tracing the formation with her own blood, counting the distance between them.

She didn’t have enough time. No matter how many times she counted or how many things she changed, the resulting conclusion didn’t change.

Andras' attack reached her before she finished the formation every time. Even when the brain of a knowledge mage worked a thousand times faster than their body, there wasn’t much they could do if there wasn’t anything that could be done.

Even if she added some time by letting the attack go through half her body.

Even if she added the time it’ll take to reach her heart.

Even if-

She didn’t want to wake up now, not when she was so, so close to winning.

There really wasn’t a worse defeat, that the one whose victory had already been tasted. But, she wouldn’t sacrifice herself for anyone, not for Cardomos, and not for the Mergifari. And so-

…

“And to us, death is nothing more than a transaction.”

…

Something moved at the corner of Velvet’s sight.

Cardomos raised. His armor was now cracked and gone, showing his damaged back, scarred under a thousand battles, half of it stone, all of it covered in eyes, previously unfocused and liveless, now with the irises colored white.

Not the first time Velvet had seen those eyes. Like Skugol’s, they were the result of the Blessing of Death.

“To get eyes like this, you need to die first.” He had told her. “And, of course, the Goddess of Death must allow you to come back.”

Then, what if the Goddess of Death herself was the one who waved goodbye?