“You know, I've been thinking.” Girshan said, gesturing with his spoon. Everything about the citadel was just... Huge. Too large in places. The standing garrison hovered around five thousand, and the castle was so big that it appeared empty half the time. If it could even be called a castle. Among men, it would have stood as one of the greatest feats of architecture in history, and it had consistently been expanded and altered. Almost everything within was made from stone. The chairs, benches, tables, even the beds, though most brought sheets or mattresses to help with that. “That song magic you can do, like when you took out that awakened ape. Why don't you use it more often?”
Girshan had lightened up considerably in their time together. He had stayed, unexpectedly, as had Abe – seeing this for the gift that it was. At the very least, they were paid to be here, and that was as good a reason as any. He didn't distrust Tyr so much anymore, and had taken a Tiber-esque role as dual advisors. The two of them in particular made for fast friends. As for Ajax, he ignored the other beastkin, and both of them seemed fine with the arrangement. Keeping to himself most times, or with his fellows down in the pits slaughtering the 'faceless'. Tyr had been concerned they'd kill each other, but after a tense discussion the nature of which nobody but they were privy to, they'd simply agreed to stay away from one another.
“When used for its true purpose...” Tyr made a popping noise with his mouth, unsure how to frame it in a way that could be understood. “It's not really a weapon, more like a tool. It... Reveals me. In a way that words could never. My entire life I have lived at the benefit of others seeing me as some rabid dog incapable of thought. Hiding myself. I do not want who I am to be seen so readily, and in the process I am forced to confront myself. Otherwise, it's not much different than enchantment, I just use music as my medium, and it's not very strong.”
“Hmm.” Abe nodded, back to scribbling in his grimoire. Quite a lot, these days. He had an incredible amount of time on his hands. The landscape had changed such that the faceless men were mostly monitored – rarely fought. No paths existed to bring them further than the first line of earthworks before they fell into a hole and were incinerated time and time again by passively charging trap arrays. Sometimes adventurers would go out to throw stuff at them or urinate over the ledge, 'for fun'. “I don't think you're alone in that. I've never seen song magic like it, but I suppose I could understand. Facing the 'self' is hard, for everyone, gurus spend decades meditating on their inner truth.”
“I see.” Girshan took another bite of the slop they were fed. “This is awful, by the way.”
It tasted like complete ass, but there was food rationing going on. Due to the time dilation, it was like feeding an army of several hundred thousand, with bloomers, life mages, and druids constantly at work inside the space to grow more food. There were no animals left to hunt in the place, and they had been few to begin with. Except for the dense jungle, everything was lifeless and quiet. They'd tried bringing herds in from the other side, but the result had been a disaster.
Mana density in the atmosphere wasn't always a good thing, and here it seemed exacerbated. Within days, cancerous growths had appeared on the animals, killing them in a few weeks. Tyr had been 'cleansing' this unknown curse from many people, and reaping the benefits such as they were. Hence why he'd managed to get his hands on a masterwork set of leather armor, but hadn't shared this fact. He didn't want people to panic, nor did he want them to harass him until he was forced to spend all his time at it. They blamed it on redstone, which was toxic in any case, but it was the anomaly itself that spread a slow and creeping sickness throughout the land.
Here, inside, it was even worse. Fortunately, they had discovered it before anyone had died – and Tyr had been discreetly removing it from people. Often without saying as much. Still rather benign, it had been an effortless experience with no complications. He couldn't help the animals, though, but he'd tried. The rest of the participants in this escapade were taken inside the fortifications, and buffers were installed all over. A new device invented in the time dilated space that could render the mana being radiated from all over into something harmless. Tyr wasn't exactly sure how it worked.
“It's definitely not great.” They all agreed.
“Can't all magic be infused into an item, though?” Lina asked. She'd stayed in the space as well, often following Girshan around. He'd taken her in as an 'apprentice', surprisingly enough, though Tyr rarely spoke to her. He didn't trust paladins and priests, not after all that had happened. Whether she was pending inquiry from her church or not was irrelevant to him, he just didn't like her.
“What do you mean?” Tyr asked.
“You're a runesmith, right?” Tyr nodded at that, obviously. He'd been handing out advanced magical artifacts to all his friends like they were candy. Selling the 'failures' in bulk to the outside world to try to recover some of the overhead. “Runes, the same as cast enchantments, are just a web of programmed mana designed for a purpose. All it is, is magic that's been contained within a stable matrix. Items can cast spells, right? Wands and stuff can store spells. Can't you store your song magic in an item?”
“I...” Tyr frowned. “I've honestly never thought about that. You're correct, technically. Given the right materials, I can capture a spell with a storage matrix and cast an emission rune to conduct it. But... You're looking at a maximum capacity of a level three spell, maybe less depending on the complexity. That's why there are so many consumable focuses that use gems as their energy sources. If we could make items that could infinitely cast spells all day, we'd all be invincible. Advanced rings can store three charges of a level four spell at best, a single element one at that – and those use gems far beyond my ability to craft. An advanced focus might hold five of the same, but... Abe? How would you assess the level of that magic?”
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“It's hard to say.” Abe shrugged, flicking through his grimoire to find the page that he'd recorded the phenomena on. He'd seen, and felt it, and was totally incapable of deciphering what had happened by any known measurement. Magic for all races was predicated on their runic language. The whole system was built like that, whether it was natural prime-element magic or the magic circles and control arrays humans were fond of. What he wasn't willing to share was the makeup of Tyr's magic. At least that one in particular. It didn't use runes, it used fractal energy. Compressing the mana into a state just before it went solid, a crystalline structure to the spell. There were no runes involved, and fractals were akin to fringe science. Mana crystals were composed of a fractal network, hence their richness, but this could not be converted to anything directly equivalent, and never would be because it was too unstable. All you'd get is a nice quick death and explosion in the process of trying to emit something more than raw energy.
“See, this space warps and magnifies. Astral space does that, it's an influence of mana and something else. Spells can fail, or become greater. At a guess, I'd say level five. It is clear to me that the mana cascade was capable of bending reality, so it can't be anything less. Any spell that is capable of generating ripples in reality is at that standard, it's harder to understand how it all works at that point, and I'm no archmage. You cannot do it at will, correct?”
“Level five?” Lina blurted, looking at Tyr, aghast. “Are you an archmage.”
“No.” Tyr snorted. “And I wish you'd refrain from sharing that much to strangers, Abe.”
“You asked...”
“I'm not a stranger!” She protested. “We've been friends for almost three years!”
“I'm not your friend.” Tyr replied, stony faced. He tolerated her, but there was no need to elaborate on that with Girshan glaring at him. “But as he said, I can't do it at will. It's like... I am a conduit for the mana around me. It uses me, not the other way around.”
“Rare magic.” Abe nodded. “Ancient, too. I think. I share your thoughts – to infuse that into an artifact of physical origin should be impossible. Back in the days when everyone was an elementalist, and we worshiped the living world like a god of its own, they used to call that kind of magic 'bending'.”
But before their conversation could continue, or Lina could protest Tyr's cruel and unfair treatment of her, he was dragged bodily by his collar and out of his chair. Slammed into the ground painfully, a boot cracking into his sternum. It had all happened so fast, and so unexpected, that the table had been left in complete awe and silence. Staring at Jura in concern as she manhandled Tyr. Her long leg pinning him to the ground, arms crossed over her chest, eyes burning with wrath.
“Oi, what the hell did I--” She stomped again, cutting his words short and causing a high pitched wheeze to escape his throat.
“We are now married!” She roared for all to hear. Stomping one last time to cement her point. Lifting and dragging him by the collar along the floor as he hung limp and shocked. Offering no resistance. Watching as the concerned faces of the others receded into the distance.
“What... What just happened?” Yana asked nervously, letting her spoon fall into her 'soup' with a sickening squelch, unable to hold it steady. “Is this an orcish custom?”
“I, ah...” Abe grunted. “No. Actually, yes. In a manner of speaking... Or I suspect it is going to be, the process at least.”
“The process?” Yana tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“It's best not to ask.” Girshan exhaled from the nose. “You'll understand one day.”
“It's about time.” Benny grumbled. “That shit was giving me anxiety.”
“Our baby boy...” Fennic wiped a tear from his eye as Mikhail gently patted his back in a brotherly sort of way.
Tyr didn't return until the evening, when 'dinner' was served and one of two times most days when they'd all get together to share a meal. His hair an absolute mess and eyes glazed, shirt torn and bloody in places. His boots were worn on the wrong feet and a bit of blood crusted his left nostril. Fennic noted how similar his appearance was to all the bar fights he'd gotten into back in the day.
“Um...?”
“I don't want to talk about it.” Tyr waved away the questions before they could be asked. Though there was a playful tug at the corner of his lips. He looked stunned beyond rational thought, and for those aware of what had likely just happened – they could rightfully assume. Their varied levels of discomfort only rose when Jura joined them. Staring down at Tiber until he graciously cleared his throat with a respectful bow and vacated the seat immediate Tyr's right. Saying nothing, she inched closer to the man and blushed throughout the process, letting her boots stray a little too close to Tyr's own to be a coincidence. None of them missed the slight welting at her neck, but it was clearly the man would've certainly been in a rougher state if not for his ability to heal.
“Soup tastes better, tonight. Do you think they put salt in it this time?” Tyr asked with a nervous tic in his eye. He didn't like how Tiber and the others were looking at him. Samson's eyes were slit and mischievous, alternating between him and the woman, a faint smile on his lips. Apparently, he approved, of whatever had just happened.
Tyr wasn't sure if he even knew what had just happened.
“I don't think so...” Mikhail drummed his fingers against the stone table, bouncing his legs in an attempt to not voice his thoughts or crack a joke. Tiber had said not to, and he was trying. He really was trying.
“We have copulated, and I enjoyed it quite a bit!” Jura suddenly shouted, ending any and all suspicion before questions could be asked. None needed to be, though. That was... Uh... Pretty obvious. “It was my first time and he performed beyond satisfactorily after only a single misstep! I find him a satisfactory mate and though he has a lot to learn, so do I!”