Without much to do in Delitone until I passed the sanctuary’s security clearance, I tracked Meadow down. She was in one of the city’s parks, sitting in front of a shallow pond, tossing some cracked corn and oats out for the ducks to eat. I took a seat next to her on the bench, and she passed the bag to sit in between us, so that I could feed the ducks as well.

“We should talk,” I said. “There are certain elements of the story that I left out last night.”

“The hole in Kene’s tattoos?” Meadow asked, and I nodded, then took a deep breath before launching into an explanation.

I told her about the hag, about the deal to allow the hag to speak to Kene, and how she had abused the loophole to take control of Kene while we were asleep. How she had threatened Kene, and me, and how I’d spoken to Orykson. Meadow listened, patting my thigh on occasion.

“That’s not easy,” Meadow said, nodding. “I’m sorry that the two of you have to go through that.”

I let out a humorless chuckle and just nodded.

“It’s not great. Is there anything you can do to help? You told me about the sepulcher, but will that be enough?”

“Probably not,” Meadow agreed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “If the hag had remained a bundle of magic and instincts, I’d see no problem with crushing it for power, but…”

“It didn’t,” I said.

“It didn’t,” she echoed. “Let me think for a bit?”

I nodded, and we sat there, feeding the ducks for a while longer. Eventually, Meadow broke the silence.

“I know of a few ways and people who may be able to grow a body for the hag. But the body is only one part of the problem. The soul surgery to remove the hag is the next. I couldn’t do it myself, and I’m not entirely confident in being able to find an artifact that can. Perhaps the Craftsman could, but the last I heard, he was near one of the poles, trying to study the extreme energy fields there.”

“And creating a soul-like structure to give the separated spiritual mass structure?” I asked, and Meadow shook her head.

“I don’t know anyone who I’m confident would be able to. Ama is a powerful creation mage, but she’s never tried to delve especially deeply into creating something like a soul.”

“Ama. I met her and her wife one time, didn’t I?” I asked. “They gave me the Healer’s Heart in exchange for remaining independent at the Elysian Mastery Tournament.”

“Yes, that’s them,” Meadow said.

“Are they ninth gate mages like you or Orykson?” I asked bluntly.

A smile split Meadow’s face, and she patted my shoulder like a proud grandmother.

“You ferreted that out for yourself, did you? Well done lad. Yes, both are ninth gate mages.”

That did explain some things. Elohi was absolutely massive, bigger than the entire Mossford alliance and Kijani put together. If they had two magi protecting it, though, it explained why they were able to keep so much territory without losing it to wild spirits or magical beast attacks.

“But if they were that powerful, couldn’t they just… Snap their fingers and solve this?” I asked. I sounded whiney, and I knew that I did, but I couldn’t stop myself. This was Kene’s life hanging in the balance.

“No,” Meadow said, shaking her head. “They can’t.”

“Because they protect too many people, like Orykson?” I asked, sounding admittedly bitter.

“No,” Meadow said, and her voice was calm.

“The Sun Queen scoured a continent and ambushed you outside of your home because she was excited to meet my new apprentice.”

A smile touched her face then, and she nodded.

“They do keep some power in reserve, to defend people in the case of something happening, but they’ve worked hard to distribute their power, so that is less needed. As a result, they’re able to spend more of their on helping people. I won’t pretend it’s perfect, but they are not like Orykson. No, the problem here is that even Ama can’t simply wave her hands and conjure up a pseudo-soul.”

“That’s hard to believe,” I admitted. “I mean… they’re Magi. They can do anything. You can do anything.”

“It’s the truth,” Meadow said, and shook her head sadly. “And I cannot do anything. Trust me, Malachi. The further you reach, the less you find that you can do.”

I studied her. She did seem completely serious, and even though she’d mislead me about her power, she hadn’t lied. I could appreciate that.

“Alright,” I said after a moment.

“I am not completely out of ideas,” Meadow said. “You could petition the Death Queen for help. She is a petty tyrant, and unlikely to listen, but she also has a longstanding grudge as Orykson’s last apprentice.”

“She’s the ruler of Nightflock, right?” I asked.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Her allies also run Grim and the Obsidian Forest,” Meadow said, and I blinked.

“Wait, isn't the Obsidian Forest a nice place to live?” I asked.

“Politics is complicated,” Meadow said. “The Headsman has established a reasonably run government, much like Orykson has in Mossford and the Mossford alliance, but the Headsman is still a terrible person. Life is not so simple as having good people at the top creating good for people at the bottom.”

“You work against Orykson,” I said. “Why not try to kill the Death Queen? Or at least work against her.”

I frowned, thinking.

“Or… do you work against her?”

“I work against her as much as I can,” Meadow said. “Vivian – that is her name – is vindictive and jealous of her territory. If I spend too long in her territory, she is willing to escalate from taking a few blows to actively trying to kill me. I would survive.”

She paused to toss a handful of seed to the the ducks.

“But the people around me? They would not. The same is true of the Tower City of a Thousand Worlds.”

“Some people would say that you had a responsibility to sacrifice their lives to overthrow a despot,” I pointed out, and Meadow fixed me with a serious look.

“Some would. I cannot. When people’s lives are weighed, there is no victor.”

That resonated with me, with how I’d felt with Orykson when he’d explained that two lives was nothing but a rounding error. It may have been a rounding error, but lives were lives. Someone didn’t have more worth as a person just because they were or weren’t strong.

“Besides, Vivian has gotten on the wrong side of destiny. It very nearly killed her last year, and she was saved at the last moment. But she cannot be saved every time. And when destiny is moving to free the people, its hands are far more gentle and subtle than my own.”

She waved a hand.

“We have gotten far afield. Vivian may be able to help you, but I doubt it. The Dreamer could perhaps take her mind into his dreaming realm, but without the soulstuff, it would be risky, and may kill her. The Great Raven may be able to create a pseudo-soul for her, but I’m not entirely sure.”

“Who’s the Great Raven?” I asked. “I think I heard of the Dreamer. Wasn’t he one of the leads for the designing of the communication mirror relays?”

“He was, along with several others,” Meadow said. “The Great Raven is a death-crow, which grew to seventh gate. She lives deep in the wilderness, far from civilization, and she’s mostly sapient. She can converse, and is far smarter than a normal crow or raven. But her magic is focused around decomposition, not in creating things. It would also strain her immensely to try and form one, if she even could. She could certainly remove the hag, but little more.”

“Then… it sounds like Orykson is our best bet,” I said, and Meadow reluctantly nodded.

“He isn’t your only option, but he is your best. He managed to form the title he did for a reason – he is one of the best spellform designers, researchers, and data analysts on the planet. But think it over. He gave you fair terms as my apprentice, but that isn’t the same as being terms you’re willing to accept. If you don’t want to, then we can try to search out another option. Think about it, okay?”

I nodded.

“I will.”

We fed the ducks in silence for a while longer, before I asked a question.

I tapped my chest, where you could faintly see the pulsing darkness of the ingrained, half-melted mana channels through my shirt.

“Do you know what’s going on here? I think it might have something to do with resolve, but I really don’t know. There’s also damage of some sort, and I don’t know how bad it is. Are you able to tell me?”

“No easy questions today, hmm?” Meadow asked, smiling. “I can’t blame you. A lot has happened. Well, do you mind if I touch your chest? I can focus my senses stronger through touch, and for something so far outside of my field, that would help. But I understand if you don’t want it.

“Go for it,” I said, a bit of a goofy grin on my face.

I wouldn’t lie and say I had completely shaken my dysphoria around my chest, even though it was how I wanted it to look now, but I was rather elated to have gotten this far, and perfectly fine letting her do her test. A part of me was debating trying to convince Kene to go to a pool.

She put her hand on my chest and closed her eyes. After many long seconds, she opened them.

“Well, isn’t that interesting. Your mana channels would have likely eventually fused with your body, given the nature of the Beast Mage’s Soul and Magister’s Body. But the pressure that you put them under created long, thin cracks in them.”

I remembered Edgar’s words about my spirit forming cracks first, and like a dam, eventually bursting. Meadow must have read the panic on my face because she spoke quickly.

“The cracks might have killed you, if they hadn’t infused into your body earlier than they normally would have. As is, you’re going to always leak mana faster than a normal person as it fizzes out from the channels, which will slow your mana recovery rate by about a third, and there’s not much to be done about that. It’s also going to be much harder to veil your power.”

A part of me was relieved that the damage wasn’t worse, but I couldn’t help myself from letting out a groan.

“I finally figured out a way to blend in, and immediately curse myself so that it’s harder for me to veil myself?”

Meadow chuckled, but didn’t respond, instead opting to continue her analysis.

“The interesting part is that inside of those cracks, you’ve forged resolve mana, in a way that almost resembles roots, like the second stage of developing a connection to deep mana. Most people forge these roots within their spirit, and there is a limited number that can be forged – eight large roots, and twelve smaller roots. These four aren’t a part of those twenty. They’re extra, more than a normal person could have.”

“That sounds… good. Right?” I asked.

“Most people who have the right drive, destiny, or luck to make it to Occultist wind up with something – or multiple somethings – that marks them. They have many names, but I like to call them imprints of deep mana,” Meadow said, avoiding my question entirely. “Each one is unique, presenting a different power. But each one also has its own limitations or conditions.”

She sighed and looked up into the sky.

“I don’t know how yours will work. Like I said, each and every one is different in subtle ways. Perhaps yours will be clogged, and will remain as such until you can cleanse it in the third sepulcher. Perhaps it will only align itself to spells that you don’t want in your mana-garden, and force you to take power you don’t want. Maybe it will only work when you’re following the drumbeats of your deepest resolve. The truth is, for all the power that I have, I don’t know. There are a lot of things in this world I don’t, and never let anyone convince you that having power means you have all the answers.”

“My eyes are rainbows now,” I observed. “Are they an imprint of fortune mana?”

“I think… they could be,” Meadow said. “I’m not sure, though. They’re certainly nothing as obvious as the roots around your heart. If they are, it’s likely that it will empower your winds.”

I nodded seriously to her, and took her hand.

“You’re tired,” I observed, and she nodded.

“I am. Looking that deep is hard for me, and I’ve been spending too much power too quickly. And…”

She let out a happy, but tired laugh.

“I’m getting old, Malachi. It’ll come for us all one day.”

I put my arm around her shoulders and held her, and without conscious thought, my tail wrapped around her waist and settled on her lap. We sat there in silence, as I held the woman who had been more of a grandmother to me than any actual grandmother I’d had.