Under the famous amber moon of planet Garom, Verox fled from a group of more high level mages than he had ever seen in one place - and he’d been to fighting tournaments. Mirror shots glinted off of dozens of glasslike leaves on the trees, missing his flickering form by less than he would have liked. The pillars of radiance that descended from the sky, he wove around without too much trouble. They split through said trees with a crashing, tinkling sound, but those were light-element constructs, not true light. Verox’s strides, crossing many meters and weaving in a complex pattern, could evade this kind of attack. Mirror Shot, on the other hand, was simply radiation. One could not best the speed of light - so aim-dodging was the best he could do. Anticipating dozens of mostly shrouded enemies, Verox wove. He relied on speed more than anything, though his Pressure Armor technique absorbed more than a few blasts before he reached the cliffside. Allowing himself a small grin at the slightest glimpse of his transport ship pulling into position, Verox muttered out a Tier III wind spell as he ran, turning away from the ship.
Open Spellcast: Launch. Enhance distance. Augment trajectory - type boomerang. Close Spellcast.
The entire recitation took two seconds after which he sailed into the air, wind shooting him like a cannonball off to the front-right, sailing far out over the cliffside. Once the enemies focused on his new position, he would be shot a dozen times. Before they could get that bearing, though, the gusts shifted, shooting him like a bullet straight to the left. The ship swooped in - and Verox sailed straight into the waiting cabin. He tumbled over several times, momentum broken and jerked in another direction, the hatch closing automatically behind him. The ship didn’t stop for a second, but Verox’s momentum was cut by a huge airbag that enveloped him. Shaking out of his daze and standing, he strode to another hatch. He noticed that a mirror shot had finally pierced his armor by the blood streaming out of his chest, and sighed mentally. Not physically, mind you. That could have been a punctured lung. He couldn’t feel it too well, yet, past the adrenaline. Two seconds is too long, he considered. I’ll have to make that a standard spell variant.
The hatch opened, and to his welcoming party, Verox merely gestured to the wound. A young pair of healers tended to it, faces focused and without reacting to the blood that shot out at them. They closed the wound instantly in a warming light, and he fell back easily into a chair hovering by runic enchantment. He was quickly ushered to a printer, fixed the rest of the way, and then hovered out on his way to his next appointment. On his right, a portly man with a thick red beard strode to his side.
“Milord! I registered heavy impact pressure on entry. Are you alright?”
Verox sighed. “Yes Fenrich, I’m not that fragile.”
“But yer heart, sir!”
So it was the heart. That was his guess, by position, but he was feeling a bit dizzy from the jump at the time.
“Repaired, I assure you. The printers are well-maintained, and I went right to it. The jump worked as well.”
“But it could have gone poorly. If yer Launch spell was a smidge stronger…”
“Do you doubt my abilities?” Verox asked pointedly. Fenrich was skilled, but his hysterics sometimes bordered on insubordination. Verox needed to curtail that - at least, for appearances’ sake.
“Of course not, milord!”
“And you should hold your skills in high esteem as well, since I have selected you. I practiced that escape several times in the flesh, and another hundred with your simulation. Even with the variable of dozens of enemy elites on my flank, the emergency evacuation worked as intended.”
“I still want to bump up the momentum cancelling runework,” the man mused, though he seemed mollified by the compliment. “Well, it appears you more than succeeded in the mission, milord.”
Verox nodded. “We’ve drawn the attention of the enemy forces in the city. With any luck, their sciers will be too busy looking for us to notice the real objective. Their fledgling spaceport on the other side of the city will fall.”
“And so our home Learsi remains safe,” Fenrich said, his eyes distant as if in a daze. Verox understood his feelings, but now was not the time to daydream. He cleared his throat.
“So, I assume the projector is ready for my meeting?”
“Milord, are you still intenting to attend?” Fenrich asked. He had reigned in the challenge in his voice, and it was a fair question. Verox wasn’t a regal sight with his shattered armor, torn clothing, sweat-matted hair. To their credit, none of his attendants lingered on the sight. He felt a bit of pride at his choices again - they remained consummate professionals.
“I need to check on the boy’s progress,” Verox said, gesturing his attendants to a hallway where he would quickly shower and dress, Fenrich stumbling to match their brisk pace.
“Of course,” Fenrich replied. “I’ll be sure the transmitter is ready for you.”
***
Verox faced the young prince, staring at him with eyes of obsidian and quartz, and moved a pawn forward. The boy - he really was just that - looked at his move, then tentatively made his own. He did fill the uniform jacket he was wearing better than last time, though. It even looked tight in places as he made his move. This was good - it cooled Verox’s frustration. Still, it was necessary to broach the obvious topic. Verox advanced his pawn, gaining center control as he spoke.
“I hear you have enrolled in Bruce’s training section.”
“I have,” the boy said after a long pause. Verox looked up and blinked stone eyes. The boy’s hand quivered slightly on his pawn, but that was his only tell. Confidence?
“And did I not caution you against such external help?”
“A-apologies, my liege!” Xenron said. Verox groaned internally as the boy bowed his head. “I was concerned that m-my progress was too slow, but I should have-”
“Quiet,” Verox commanded, forcing a trade on the board. The boy hadn’t made a terrible choice, and Verox needed to remind himself of that to temper his frustration. It was imperative that he get a baseline of power quickly - assassins were still a possibility, no matter how carefully Verox’s scriers watched the future. Once, Xenron’s short-term power had been of little consequence, but the situation had changed as war dragged out on Garom. Regardless of Xenron’s prudence, though, Verox couldn’t tolerate half-measures. “You intend to continue?”
Xenron looked aside for a long moment before looking at him and nodding tentatively.
“Then do so. But obey me better in the future, and be confident in your own decisions. We cannot afford to look divided now, but neither can either of us look weak.”
The boy cleared his throat, nodding. “On that point… what of the war front, father?”
The last word was a question unto itself. Verox gave a slight nod at it - he’d cautioned Xenron against using honorifics with him to the same end of unity - and pressed on.
“We continue to hold their spaceports, which is the most important holding, and have wardings against long range spacial magic. They cannot assault Learsi. However, the Lucerna are a potent foe. What do you know of them?”
“They are magical beings like Xexens, but do not have the ability to convert their body’s natural mana supply into elements other than light. They have blue skin in various hues and their hair is usually a metallic shade, believed to be more aesthetic than practical, though some scholars think their skin pigments are meant to reflect cancerous radiation. Others postulate that it is part of their control of light.”
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“You fail to understand you enemy,” Verox said. While he was pleased with the recitation overall… “You talk about their magic as if it is inferior. Not only do they still have access to pure mana abilities like sorcery and mental abilities like telepathy, they have an extremely powerful and unique control over light magic. Tell me, what is the most dangerous light magic ability?”
“Speed-of-light attacks?”
Verox sighed internally. Xenron regarded his stony form - a remote body on Learsi projected by complex runework to follow Verox’s actions on Garom - and the king realized it must look especially stern. His answer was decent. Most Xexens couldn’t break the sound barrier, and even though most combatants had attacks that moved faster via weapons or spells, Verox had minutes ago been reminded that nothing could compete with lightspeed transmission. Still…
“They are second to one - foresight. As you no-doubt know, the future is clouded with shades of possibility. Add to that the ability of the powerful to entirely erase themselves from visions with deep magic, and it’s not perfect. Still, information is always valuable. What do you suppose it would mean if one side of a war had a dramatic foresight advantage?”
Xenron seemed to consider this with an expression that faded to alarm, eyes wide. Good.
“They would have a huge advantage in intel,” Xenron began slowly, “exposing any wide-scale plans and adapting in advance. Only those guarded from sight or suddenly changing plans would be safe.”
“Right. Infiltrating their defenses has been difficult. Still, I have plans - which, of course, I can’t disclose yet for obvious reasons.” Xenron nodded, then looked down. “Checkmate,” Verox continued. The boy had lasted a passable amount of time, considering he held the conversation throughout.
“If I may, father,” Xenron said weakly, then sat up straighter. “There was one more matter.”
***
His Majesty quirked an eyebrow, barely showing on the intense golem body, then gestured for Xenron to go on.
“I have been having… strange visions. I’ve awakened my mana - a late but necessary step - but whenever I use it, I see strange things. Horrible things. Memories that clearly aren’t my own. I told Ms. Vale about this initially, and when I asked her about it recently, she said I should speak with you about it.”
The earthen proxy-King nodded slowly.
“Xenron, what do you remember of your early years?” Father said, speaking deliberately with the same dignity as ever.
“It’s…” Xenron frowned shaking his head. “Nothing, really. Does anyone remember those things? It’s hard to remember back that far.
Father shook his head. “Most people don’t remember their early years well, but there should be some impressions. The problem in your case isn’t from recent psychic interference to your brain - but from a specific encounter with your enemies. From a time before which your memory is blank.”
The Xenron’s hands gripped his chair hard, and he looked up with wandering eyes. Why didn’t you tell me? was the first thought that came, though Xenron pushed it down as impudent, trying to find the answer in the firm face before him. It wasn’t just that his false body was made of stone. Father exuded impassive confidence and endless pressure, in every situation.
“I am not meant to talk about it,” Verox said. “Memories were implanted by an experimental process, but couldn’t fully take root - instead, the result shattered your existing memories and the new ones into a state of chaos, as far as the psychics observed. Talking about the matter was… discouraged. Thinking on it too far could shatter your sense of reality, sure, but direct outside interference could unilaterally overwrite your shaky memory, and perhaps even leave it in worse disarray.”
“Then, when I channel my mana… I’m risking my sanity?” Xenron slumped in spite of himself. He should not show panic in front of Father - and yet...
“When you channel your mana,” Father asked, “the memories always come?”
The boy nodded.
“Mana is linked to the will,” Father explained. “Most people equate that to emotion, which is mostly accurate, but it’s more subtle than that. If your mana won’t come at your call without bringing back your memories, it means the two are inexorably tied. There are some studies to back that kind of connection, but it’s sparse. More pertinent is that you can only get to the full truth by your own exploration. There are still details from those days that I don’t know - though, admittedly, the matter isn’t urgent. Anyway, you’re a young man, now, Xenron. Damn what the doctors say, it appears you’ll need to untangle this.”
“Can’t you just explain it to me, Father?” Xenron said, speaking increasingly quickly. “I mean - if you told me - then I’d know what’s real, and what’s not. I’d know what to just ignore. I could know what’s real and what’s not, and then I’d be okay. I’d be okay, no matter what I saw, no matter how it tried to trick me…” Xenron trailed off at the end, noticing the frown on Father’s face.
“Would that be enough?” Verox asked, and Xenron nodded immediately, frantically. The King shook his head stiffly. “Is another man’s word enough to give you certainty, deep in your soul, of the truth? Would you stake your life, your identity, all the power you will ever wield, on another man’s word?!”
This time, Xenron hesitated. He should answer in the affirmative. He was a loyal son. A loyal servant of his liege. That was more than a task, more than a calling. It was him. Now, for the first time, he had a ghost of a chance of rising to fill that role properly. At yet, the tone of Father’s voice told him he was not supposed to unilaterally accept another role. Surely, it was a trap. A test. A challenge. Father favored such tests of conviction. And yet… in that moment, Xenron could not find the confidence to challenge his Father. He could not say with certainty that he would accept words as truth.
The King dragged the moment, offering neither reproach nor affirmation. He let Xenron sit with the question as he rose, taking a fighting stance. Then, Father offered one more piece of guidance.
“Say what you mean. Do what you mean to. Half measures will always fail when you mean to rule a people. If you wish for me to tell you the truth, damn the consequences, then say so confidently and I will.”
The King gestured for Xenron to rise, then continued.
“Time is short. Show me the extent of your strength.”
***
The boy suppressed his trembling. Internally, Verox couldn’t blame him. He had just learned something that would shake him in the days to come. Besides that, Verox’s body of stone, tall as his real form, made an imposing opponent. However, Xenron shook off all his doubts. Stone-faced, he rose, taking a fighting stance to the side of the table. Xenron mirrored Verox… no, the stance was different. Then, the boy lunged.
He started with a jab into cross combo. The first punch he parried, but the follow up was crisp and fast, making him flinch back instinctively. The face could have taken it. Still, the moment’s hesitation was an opening. Xenron didn’t pull back. He grabbed the parrying hand with both of his, then turned his body into Verox’s. An explosion of bluish translucent aurora filled the room, centered on Xenron, and he lifted the stone body with labored kiai. Verox’s projected body tumbled over Xenron’s shoulder, leaving Verox shocked, the stone body cracked in places and the floor similarly damaged. Verox’s real body had been thrown, too, by a telekinetic projection that kept him and the other body in sync. Xenron really had gotten stronger.
The King recovered instantly, of course. Moving with blinding speed, Verox wrenched his arm free in a burst of his own potent mana, then spun, launching himself with air currents into a fully extended kick to the side of Xenron’s head. Verox saw a spurt of the boy’s mana - his awakened aura’s unconscious defense - but he still lurched to the ground and collapsed from the single blow, blood draining from split skin. Perhaps Verox had overdone it a bit.
He had been excited, though. He’d heard that Xenron had awakened his mana, of course. The boy had to be under close watch. But he hadn’t expected the audacity, or the sheer increase in physical strength. It had been the better part of a month, and it seemed the boy had made good use of the time for once. His lack of elemental affinity was still a problem - his only chance was to rehabilitate his memory. But that was no news to Verox.
So, Verox immediately called for a nurse to check his head wound - even brain damage would be fine, if treated immediately - though he was confident he’d restrained himself well enough to avoid that. Additionally, he decided to be gentle in his follow-up message. He would firmly insist the boy learn some spell formulas to more efficiently use his new power, as well as doubly require that he continue training independently to learn his own techniques. Bruce’s guidance would be valuable - in the short term. But it had a definite limit. If Xenron didn’t fully awaken, it would be a frustrating loss - leaving the King to fight without a weapon against what was to come. He’s already directed the boy towards building a sufficient support network for his new power - visualization exercises, spell formula study, and martial forms - so his progress would be remarkably fast. He didn’t make any comments on the boy’s chess skills. He had done acceptably while holding a conversation, and more than anything that was an exercise in multitasking - though, the game did have some political use. That was enough, for now. Finally, his tutor would need to be sure to reinforce measured confidence in him. He wouldn’t stand to be represented by a cringing idiot.
Dictating an email to Vale, then Xenron, Verox hesitated for a moment. He considered whether he had overdone it with Xenron. Would the boy break? He set the thought aside. Everything was as it had to be, for him and the boy. In all the futures where he saw Xenron dying prematurely, few were by his own hand. All plans had some risks, and Verox had made his bet.