Chapter 404 - Cadria V

It didn’t take Allegra much time to pack her things. Perhaps having already anticipated the party’s arrival, and perhaps having long resolved herself to some sort of intervention, the rabbit had a rucksack full of supplies ready to go at the drop of a hat. She even had a sleeping bag and a tent stuffed into her luggage. Packing a few sets of clothes was all she needed to wrap up her preparations. That, and leaving a sign on her door that marked her shop’s temporary closure.

Thanks to the swiftness of her handiwork, the party was able to set out after lunch, not too long after Claire gave up on her tutor’s capture—she had harassed her throughout the packing process, but she had nothing to show for her efforts. Of course, she could have boxed the rabbit in with a series of Borises and called checkmate, but with the final resort feeling no different from a loss, she had begrudgingly thrown up her arms and given up altogether.

“I would say that you chant more than fast enough, but the real problem is with the way you chant. That, and the lack of originality. Your spells are too ordinary and easy to repel. You’ll want to come up with something that has an easier time throwing your enemies for a loop.”

“The way we chant?” asked Krail.

“Do you know how Jules abbreviates his spells?”

“I know the theory behind it. He has individual blocks compiled ahead of time, which allows him to cast a relatively standard spell on the fly.”

“Exactly,” said Alelgra. “For mages who opt for a chantless approach, his methods are ideal. Naturally, not all schools can emulate his behaviour exactly, given that most spells use absolute position instead of relative position for their targeting, but it’s still possible to learn from the principals.”

“In which manner, precisely?” asked Arciel.

“To begin with, you need to understand why spells need chants to begin with. The chants themselves don’t strictly play a part in weaving a spell, and that’s why you’ll often find cases where some spells can be used either with or without their chants. All a chant really does is enforce a set of ideas, which is then translated by the system into the corresponding output. You can produce the same output by simply finding different ways to represent the same concept.”

“I recall reading a paper discussing a similar matter,” said Arciel. “However, the methods that it touted were rather obtuse and impractical.”

“What do you mean?” asked Krail.

“You basically have to hypnotize yourself,” said Allegra, with a smile. “You have to keep associating an image or pattern with a chant until your mind accepts that they are literally the same thing.”

The elf scratched the back of his head. “How literally?”

“You’re not even allowed to recognize that one is an abbreviation of the other. Recognizing that it’s a shortcut will affect the spell’s output.”

“That is precisely why I touted it impractical,” said Arciel. “I cannot see how it might be possible for one to convince themselves as such.”

“Oh, it’s not that hard,” said Allegra, with a smile. “Now, I’m not saying that this is how you should do it, but some of Cadria’s other magi have suggested removing a part of your brain and then working on the spell while it regenerates.”

“How… barbaric,” said Arciel.

“I’ll have to pass on that,” said Krail.

“Don’t worry. The way that most sane people do it is through strenuous repetition. A few days of straight combat should put you in the right state of mind.”

“I remain uncertain that your alternative is any more appealing.”

Similar lectures ensued throughout the rest of the day. Each was an insightful, longform explanation of some topic or other, but Claire was completely uninterested. She spent far more time sleeping than not; her ability to stay awake was utterly destroyed by the familiar, droning voice.

Few others shared her boredom. Most of the party was better educated by nightfall, and even more learned by bedtime. Having spent the better part of a thousand years cooped up in her laboratory, the grand magus was practically a walking encyclopedia, only far more engaging and proactive. She added addendum to addendum, fact and observation to every discussable facet that she happened to cover throughout the day.

Much to Claire’s dismay, everyone else continued to prod at Allegra’s mind. The rabbit’s responses were so vivid that they somehow pierced the barrier that divided reality from the land of dreams.

Despite annoying her to no end, the rabbit’s rants made her sleep more restful. She had known that Allegra was fine, unaffected by the curse that had struck the manor following Claire’s initial departure. She had watched while the rabbit dueled her father, with both still in perfect health. But seeing her in person again, without the veils that were Rubia’s eyes, somehow put her heart at ease. There was no blood relation. No matter how hard she tried, the rabbit would never fill the void that her mother had left behind. And yet, the sense of comfort was entirely undeniable. Even though she knew that the feelings only went one way.

Irksome a thought though it was, she knew that she made Allegra anxious. She couldn't tell if it was because of how much her body had changed, or if it was simply because she was barely the same person, but she could feel the rabbit’s tentative eyes upon her. They often flitted in her direction, the gazes lasting only a few moments longer than most others before flickering away again.

Without the bolstered senses provided by her ascensions, she might not even have noticed them. And perhaps, Allegra was convinced that she didn't. But they were undeniably present.

When she looked at her, Allegra's eyes were hesitant, nervous, perhaps even guilty. It was difficult to get a good read, but whatever the case, it seemed like they were due for a long chat in private. The only problem was that there weren’t any obvious opportunities, or at least none that she was able to find during their first two days of being reunited.

Day three was equally as inconvenient, though it was less because the rabbit had remained the center of attention, and more so because they had arrived at a major city. The Pollux march certainly served as the nation’s international hub, but even with the work invested by the late marquis, it was far from the sort of place that most foreign merchants were willing to visit en masse. After all, Cadria was a harsh land. Even a small caravan would need a set of thrice-ascended bodyguards to successfully drive off the local fauna, and it was simply impractical to dole out the requisite payments lest one dealt in luxury goods.

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That was not to say that the land was devoid of travelers. Despite the dangers, Cadrians themselves often wheeled small caravans all over. Sure, they were still at risk of being attacked, but thorae could hover in the air, cottontails could hide amongst the weeds, and centaurs could pick up the pace. Even though the monsters were strong, few could be bothered to give chase to a horse-man running at full clip and many merchants picked skills to help with their sprinting precisely for those scenarios. Without a tamer class, it was often quite difficult to train a pet or monster to do the same.

Lamias were the only native species that, relatively speaking, struggled to get around, though it was hardly a result of their survivability. Rather, they could only freely move from the southeastern coastline during four of the year’s eight months. And even during that time, they generally preferred to stay put in their homes. Those that ventured outwards mostly did so to find husbands after spending a lifetime in an environment deprived of the opposite sex, hence the common reputation that lamian women only ever wanted one thing. Given the size of the city that stood before them, it was possible that they would find a few chasing just that.

Unlike the Pollux march, whose largest cities were all scholarly retreats centered around the study and manufacture of artifacts, the Titus county was of a more traditional make. Its cities were massive fortresses, and the provincial capital sitting in their path served as nothing if not a prime example thereof.

Modeled in the spirit of Valencia, it was a city in two parts. One was a massive, landlocked stronghold with giant steel walls built high enough to resemble a mountain, while the other was a floating island that served not only as the lord’s manor, but also the control center for the magical barrier that would shield the city in the event of an attack. As was the case with the three ducal manors, it was the only weak spot in a nigh impenetrable defense. Anyone that wished to lay siege to the city would need to either take over the floating castle or shoot it out of the sky.

Security was clearly not an issue with so many protections in place. And yet, perhaps because Lord Titus himself was more paranoid than his southern neighbour, the guards carefully inspected every caravan that passed.

“Look at this fucking line, goddamn. It goes on for fucking days,” said Jules.

“It is certainly rather… sizable.” Arciel joined him in sticking her head out the front and observing the path ahead.

“Lacrium’s gates are always busy, but they’ve been getting even more traffic lately,” said Allegra.

The traffic jam in question looked long enough to be counted in hours—there were dozens upon dozens of carts lined up outside, and only more gathering behind them. It was thanks to the three-way crossroads that converged into the highway leading up to its entrance, with one being the path that the party had taken, leading into the neighbouring provinces, and the other two leading to other major cities. The same story was told at each of the other gateways. Though no one bothered to check, a quick look from above would have confirmed that all three of the paths leading in and out of the city were completely packed to the brim.

“The local lord has been doing everything he can to boost the economy short term.” The cottontail continued. “I’m a little out of the loop, but I think his most recent strategy has been cutting taxes for permanent residents and loosening the restrictions you need to be counted.”

“So he can raise funds. For the war,” said Claire.

“Exactly,” said Allegra. “He seems pretty keen on sponsoring at least one of the seven.”

“He’s picking at straws,” said Claire.

The rabbit smiled. “He’s never been the keenest strategist.”

“He’d be in charge of a march if he was,” said Claire.

Marches and counties were technically ruled by members of the same rank. That is, marquises and counts were, for all intents and purposes, considered equivalent by the court. But while that was technically true, it was a truth that stemmed simply from the system that Cadria had borrowed during its founding. In reality, even though they had no more privileges, marquises were looked upon with more favour, for they were recognized as being powerful enough to guard the nation’s borders.

“Uhmmmm… so you’re supposed to be like, super important, right?” asked the fox on Claire’s head—she refused to give up the seat, despite needing a bubble to prevent Claire’s helmet from grating against her stomach. “Can’t you just like, get us in?”

“I was,” said Allegra. “But now that I’ve resigned, I don’t have any more standing than the average citizen.”

“Awww…” The fox collapsed into a pile. “At this rate, we’re gonna be stuck waiting all day.”

“It shouldn’t take that long,” said Allegra, with a chuckle. “One of the guards should be coming by to survey us soon, and we should be able to skip a bit further ahead if we tell them that we’re looking to fight in the ‘war.’”

“Would that not see us exposed?” asked Arciel.

“I don’t really think there’s much helping that,” said Allegra, with a bit of a grimace. “Me being here doesn’t help, but you would’ve been found out sooner or later anyway, even if you managed to lie your way into the city.”

“And whyever is that?”

“Half the gambling rings have moose and elves on staff,” said Allegra, “they’ll probably pick us out from the crowd in a heartbeat.”

Had the Pollux march been in a better state, the same thing likely would have happened further south. Even though the cities were full of book-brained artificers, there should have been enough high level moose and elves to discern their identities. Alas, most of them were dead. The sellswords and guards left hanging around were far less driven than those who had been shipped abroad. Though visiting a more combat-oriented city, like one whose main draw was its colosseum, no doubt would have produced the same result regardless.

“Wouldn’t it be better to avoid the city altogether then?” asked Chloe.

“There’s no point,” said Claire. “My father’s agents already know. They’ve had us marked since the moment we crossed the border. It’s only a matter of time before the public finds out.”

“Adding to that,” said Allegra, “there aren’t as many foreigners this far north, and I bet some of the patrols you’ve passed have already made the connection.” She took off her hat and hid it under her seat whilst replacing her witchy cloak with a more casual one.

“I would not think most of us stand out so readily. Though Lana and Jules are certainly difficult to disguise, the rest of us could pass for elves, so long as our ears are kept obscured. I was under the impression that was why we tasked Krail with driving.”

“I thought you all just pawned it off on me because you couldn’t, or couldn’t be damned,” said the elf.

“That was certainly a factor,” admitted Arciel, “but your continued aid has provided an opportunity for a disguise.”

“I really hate to say this, but that isn’t going to work,” said Allegra. “They’re likely to have lie detectors on them, and the elves here, are, well…” She smiled wryly, “just like the elves you’d find anywhere else.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” grumbled Krail. “Look, I know that the rest of you are obsessed with your silly fictitious gods, but I ain’t falling for any of that goddamn bullshit.”

“Why don’t we put the theology on hold for now and come back to it later?” said Allegra. “One of the guards is headed our way, and we’d be better off deciding our approach.”

Krail still looked a little miffed, but throwing up his arms and breathing a sigh, he dropped the topic entirely. As the rabbit had said, the closest guard was only five or six caravans away. There were a few wagonless groups smooshed between them as well, but in either case, they would soon be within earshot.

“Well, Arciel,” he said, “it’s your call. Are we heading down the rabbit hole or are we feigning ignorance?”

The squid paused briefly to tap her chin with her fan. “Let us do as Allegra has advised. I understand your suspicions, but I would rather we trusted her than not.”

“Wait, let me handle it,” said Claire. “I have a plan.”