‎Chapter 12: In the Lord Mage's Tower

Carcerus

Norman gazed intently at the one square meter board carved into the stone. Seemingly haphazardly arranged serpentine lines criss-crossed the board from all directions. Each one was divided by fine lines into a long row of roughly square boxes. The lines intersected and in two places at two opposite corners, five lines met in a slightly larger circular area. Spread across the board were two dozen small stone balls in different colors. Light gray and black. The student's hand hovered indecisively over one of the black spheres for a moment, then he moved it along one of the lines to three intersections. When the face of the guard he was playing against suddenly lit up, he flinched. Horst, who had always watched quietly and with interest, stood up and said as he walked away: "In about eight days he'll have the sippa'lager. You've lost. But he played well."

He gave Norman an encouraging pat on the shoulder as he passed and got himself a glass of water from the small canteen.

The guard looked at the playing field in amazement: "I actually only wanted to beat the foremost scout. How am I supposed to get to the clan camp in eight moves?"

The first few days in the Lord Mage's Tower had been difficult for everyone present, but the students had managed to adapt quickly. Horst had helped the servants carry heavy baskets without being asked. The Vigori had gratefully accepted his help until the Lord Mage's steward had learned of the mathematical skills he had noticed in one of the regular interrogations, or as the Lord Mage called them 'conversations'. Since then, he had helped with the very extensive bookkeeping and planning necessary to maintain the food supply for the population of the Nexus.

Jane had been very uncooperative at first, at least until the Lord Mage had shown her some of his experiments. Professional curiosity had got the upper hand. Her two fellow students had no idea what she was studying with him in the basement of the tower. She also claimed, probably not wrongly, that they wouldn't understand the magical theories anyway.

Norman, on the other hand, had done what he always did when he was somewhere new. He had approached people and taken an interest in what they were doing. Even at home, he had always been fascinated by how differently other people lived their lives. Everyone had different worries and needs. Everyone had different priorities. It hadn't been difficult to get into conversation with the servants. As long as he didn't try to interrogate them about their master, they chattered practically non-stop. The guards had been more suspicious, but they couldn't resist a conversation about stick fighting techniques. Norman wasn't even close to being an expert in this field, but he was able to explain the basic techniques he had learned. And there were clear differences between them and the local fighting techniques. After a few practice fights, during which Norman suffered a few injuries, it was agreed that he was clearly inferior to the trained warriors. Apart from a rather clever technique for sweeping opponents off their feet, he was unable to pass on anything useful. The fact that he accepted his defeats so good-naturedly earned him some sympathy and some of the guards took the trouble to teach him 'Ways and Veins'. The local rather complex version of a strategy board game. Norman described it in his mind as a mixture of chess and 'Snakes and Ladders'.

An impatient cough brought his thoughts back to the present. He pointed to the cube-shaped playing piece that symbolized his clan camp, roughly equivalent to the king in chess: "I can't reach the way out of the vein in time before your piece here. You can just walk through. No matter what I do, I'll be wiped out in eight moves. Never would have seen it on my own." The two looked at each other and the guard grinned, "Me neither. Another round?"

"No. Not today. My head is already pounding at the thought of being chased across the field again." He stepped to the window of the tower and casually looked out. A group of workers were dragging bales of willow bushes across the site and placing them in five circular areas, each about two hundred meters in diameter, which had been cleared of grass and the few sparse bushes and beaten flat over the last few days: "What are they doing down there?"

The guard rose comfortably and strolled to the window: "They're preparing to build hover disks."

"Like the ones the nomadic clans travel with?"

"I think so. The workers have been talking about nothing else for almost two weeks. One minute they were still in their usual rut, the next they had to drop everything and harvest willow bushes. Besides, he must have summoned pretty much every weaver in the Nexus."

Norman scratched the back of his head thoughtfully: "Sounds pretty urgent. I thought it would take years to build flying disks."

"Quite apart from the fact that, as far as I know, we don't have a single mage who can enchant flying disks. But the Lord Mage has never ordered anything that didn't make sense. He will have his reason."

"Probably."

"You still don't think much of the Lord?"

"He's quite... tough. And what he's done to the servants... I don't know. They are slavishly devoted hunchbacks. There's magic involved. And not good magic, that's for sure."

"It gives us a security that is unique in our world. Every nomadic clan would sacrifice two out of five of their clan members to stay with us."

"Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration..."

"The first clan that came through here after our settlement was founded, according to our lore, offered just that when the members felt they were too numerous to all be accepted as new residents of the Nexus."

"You're exaggerating!"

"No. And if you really thought seriously about what life is like in the veins on eternal wanderings, you would understand."

"Well, I was there for quite a while..."

"How many old people have you seen? Really old ones? I can tell you: not a single one. The space on the floating disks, assuming the clan has any at all, is very limited and is mainly needed for essential supplies. Those who can no longer keep up are left behind and die. Anyone who contracts an illness or injury that cannot be cured in the foreseeable future is left behind and dies. If the clan becomes too large to feed itself on the journey..."

"I..."

"Surely you have never witnessed this, Freeborn. I would sacrifice my life without hesitation to preserve this safe haven for my family.

Norman hesitated, too much was going through his head. He now saw too many things that he had seen in a completely new light. He sounded very quiet and thoughtful as he continued: "You talk as if the Lord Mage has been the ruler here for a very long time. Do you mean his family..."

"No. He himself. We are born, grow old and die. But he... He lives forever. Through his wisdom and his magic. Once he was just an ordinary man, born and raised in one of the wandering clans. But he has learned and researched and developed into what he is now. And as long as he lives, we will be safe here."

"In my world, there are numerous stories about magicians who become immortal. In all of them, they pay a price."

"What are you trying to say?" Norman noticed how the guard unconsciously put his hand on the dagger at his belt.

"I... nothing. I'm sure it wasn't easy becoming immortal. I'm sure he had to... study for a long time and stuff."

"Why don't I think that's what you meant to say?"

"Because you're an extremely suspicious person?"

They looked suspiciously into each other's eyes for a long moment. Then they started to laugh at the same time.

*

The three students were regularly fed three times a day. Apart from that, the Lord Mage had not looked after them. Horst had already begun to worry that he had simply forgotten about them and was letting them languish up there.

But as one of the hunchbacked servants was clearing away the food, another entered and brought them the Lord Mage's invitation. He was very friendly, but none of the three had any illusions that they had a choice about appearing. They met him again in his study. This time, however, he was not sitting comfortably in his armchair, but was slowly pacing back and forth. Deep in thought. When they entered, he almost looked up in surprise, but then immediately regained his composure: "Ah! My freeborn guests. Take a seat! I have criminally neglected you. Please tell me a little more about yourselves."

Norman was just about to start summarizing his CV when Jane interrupted him: "What for?"

"Well, it's a gesture of courtesy to get to know your guests better..."

"Nonsense. Something is wrong here. You are the most powerful being for miles around. As far as I understand it, probably in this entire dimension. But you're still afraid. "

"That's really..."

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Some of the information snapped together in Norman's mind after a delay and he couldn't stop himself from interrupting the Lord Mage: "No one can settle down in Carcerus. That was the first thing I learned here. And there are fields, houses and a tower here. They have more men, women and equipment than ten wandering clans put together. And with that amount of magic, they could just chase a passing clan through the Nexus with a lot less effort. They don't think they can stay here anyway. Because the Lightbringer's wrath prevents them here as it does everywhere else. But he doesn't, does he? Otherwise they couldn't stay here either. They can't be more powerful than the ruler of an entire dimension. As one of these Primordial Gods. You could have an agreement with him and work for him. But with his protection, you would certainly be even more powerful. And you would have nothing to fear. So there's only one explanation that makes sense..." The Lord Mage had raised his eyebrows in disgust at the interruption and was about to retort sharply, but then he had regained control with a single concentrated breath. While Norman took a short breath to emphasize a dramatic pause, he sat down in his chair, seemingly completely relaxed, and beckoned him to continue.

"... And that is that they have been hiding here unrecognized until now. The Lightbringer does not see them here. That's why his creatures leave them alone. And whatever happens to pass by, well, your guard zombies should be quite sufficient for that. But something must have changed."

Bhargamon formed a triangle with his fingers, which he placed on the table in front of him to gaze calmly at his three guests for a while. Then he nodded: "Something significant has indeed changed. The Seal of Creation has been stolen. A magical amulet that renders the wearer and his surroundings - and I'm talking about an environment with a radius of several thousand paces in a spherical room - completely invisible to any kind of clairvoyance. The clan I once belonged to found the black, lightless stone when we were breaking boulders out of the wall of one of the paths to make points for our weapons. A pointless attempt considering the rock was far too brittle for that, but we had plenty of flying disks and enough men to set some of them aside for what we expected to be pointless experiments. Suddenly, our guardians of memory could no longer see. That was the first sign that something had changed. The stone was the only new thing. We tried our most powerful clairvoyance spells on it. To no avail. Then we noticed that our clairvoyance magic was also failing for other tasks. A scout who came running excitedly a few days later reported that his clairvoyance spells had also failed. We experimented. When we moved, the stone shielded a radius of about nine hundred paces. But every time we camped, the zone slowly expanded. And the protection behind us was also slow to fade. Even when we traveled through a vein at top speed, clairvoyance magic remained ineffective for four or five days. We experimented with the stone. Its shape is irregular and it is only the size of a finger phalanx. But it cannot be cut. It is harder than any other material we know. Magic cannot influence it. Not clairvoyance magic or anything else. We never learned that the anger, the raging lightning that emanates from the veins, would no longer haunt us. We never held still long enough to let this danger get to us. It would never have occurred to us to try. In fact, the stone hindered our work more than it helped us, because it hindered our scouts and blinded the guardians of memory. It took quite a few storytellers to keep them happy."

Norman held back with great effort and politely raised his hand instead of simply interrupting the Lord Mage. The latter nodded to him.

"But the guardians of the clan we were traveling with had no problems. They would certainly have reported it if they had suddenly gone blind. And the scouts didn't report any disturbances either."

"Of course, over time we have found ways to channel the effect. The setting in which the stone is placed, the actual seal, limits the effect. It took the magicians thirty years, but they managed it. A magical stone found by chance became the Seal of Creation. And only the powers of beings connected to the power of creation itself are blinded by it. The Primordials! We couldn't even disrupt the magic on their level if we wanted to. The magic we normal humans use to cast spells, yes. You could block it with years of work."

Norman nodded thoughtfully. "And now that protection is gone. How long do you have before this Lightbringer finds you?"

"Not for long. The seal has protected this place for countless generations. It will take time for the effects to wear off. We still have a few weeks, maybe a few months. Then he'll find us. A group of people standing relatively still? Even in an entire universe, that will stick out like a glowing, glowing needle in a haystack. A haystack of transparent hay. But that's not the worst of it. The wrath doesn't even require the Lightbringer's personal attention. Lightning will destroy everything we have built. Strike down everyone who lives here. Men. Women. Children."

"What can we do to help?" Norman didn't hesitate for a moment to offer his help. Jane opened her mouth to contradict him, but then changed her mind, leaned back quietly and let Norman continue the conversation on his own. The huge Horst tried to remain as small and inconspicuous as possible in his chair and watched the whole thing with a slightly confused expression on his face.

The Lord Mage raised an eyebrow slightly: "Help? You? I don't know." His arrogance wavered slightly, allowing the doubts that lay hidden beneath his self-possession to shine through. "Those ungrateful Gargyls have damaged the seal. Now it's blocking my magical clairvoyance again too. I can't find them with magic. My still loyal gargoyle warriors search the surrounding paths without ceasing. I have only five left, circling over your clan. Five! I can't pull any more corpse golems from the other entrances without running the risk of the perfectly normal wandering dangers coming in here. You've probably been here long enough to know what's wandering around. Terrible dangers for my people here. If we don't beat them back at the entrances, the Lightbringer will one day grow suspicious as to why he sees lush, contented monsters suddenly reappearing in the paths. His attention can't be everywhere and the entrances provide perfect places for a defensive battle. And near most entrances, he can also observe them. But if his monsters only strike here at my tower, at our settlement, then he hasn't been able to see this yet. And it won't be long before he turns his full attention to this place. Then no power in this universe will be able to stop him from finding us.

But the most acute danger and my greatest concern is the wrath. As you have no doubt learned by now, the veins attack stationary creatures after four days with magical lightning and storms. They draw their power directly from the Lightbringer and his power is infinite by our standards. If the lingering protection from its detection wears off before the seal is back here in the Nexus... Well I think you see the problem. The Gargoyles are a servant race and one of my main goals so far has been to bring the few that defy my orders, in my opinion they have simply gone mad, back to the safety of my realm. Preferably before they die and their souls enter the cycle of rebirth with their knowledge of my lair."

Jane couldn't stop herself from interfering after all: "It's no use. People die here too!"

"Well young lady, that may be so, but there is an important difference..."

"The collars." Norman said quietly and absently. Jane tilted her head uncomprehendingly: "What kind of..."

"Indeed young man. The collars. Interesting that you noticed them. Most remarkable. The magic makes them slip into the background, so that most people miss them completely. Even the wearers can usually only notice them when they get caught. And even then, the memory quickly fades. Anyone who wears one of these collars made from the rune-decorated skin of a Gruach beast will have their soul trapped in it when they die."

"And what happens to her then?"

A cold smile appeared on the Lord Mage's face: "That's a secret I'll keep to myself. But please, let's move on to the more important topic. What incredible abilities do you have to offer that will help me find my amulet?"

The three of them thought in silence. Clairvoyance magic was not Jane's strong point. The Lord Mage's gargoyles searched a distance every day that they couldn't cover in two weeks. And there were no real clues.

"No suggestions? Well, then we'll talk again after the current crisis. If an escape becomes necessary, I will of course take her with me. After all..."

"There is a way to follow the trail of the object designated as the seal of creation."

Jane, Norman and the Lord Mage looked around in confusion at the source of the unfamiliar voice. Three pairs of eyes focused on Horst, who was sitting motionless with his mouth closed, staring into space. His right arm hung loosely down, the other was held across his body. His wristwatch sparkled on his wrist. The dial and hands disappeared, leaving behind a dull black surface in the center of which a single blue light flashed in rhythm with the words: "The structural variation emanating from it dampens the quantum vibrations of the affected zone. This change can be measured for a long time with the sensors available to me. The surrounding paths have already been extensively searched. Even if there are some possibilities to hide a smaller number of people, a whole tribe of Gargylen should have already been found. They will therefore have moved away at top speed and may still be moving away..."

"His bangle can talk?" The Lord Mage was more amused than surprised.

"Wristwatch. And yes, obviously she can. Horst? Horst!?" He shook his fellow student.

"Please keep Mr. Baumschüttler out of this conversation. At the moment, I have disconnected his consciousness from reality so that he cannot perceive anything. So far, he doesn't know that the watch he found after my former wearer suffered a fatal accident contains a high-performance computing core with artificial intelligence. It would be detrimental to him should he learn of my ability to remotely control his body by directly stimulating his neural pathways. He would consciously or unconsciously begin to resist my control. As a result, I would have to deepen my influence. At the moment, his personality and neural pathways are still completely intact. If he begins to actively resist, it could cause irreversible damage. Even if I manage to prevent physical damage, from a psychological point of view, severe lasting trauma is virtually unavoidable."

"You stole his body?" Norman stared sternly at the clock.

"Borrowed. In total, his consciousness has only been switched off for 17 minutes and 29 seconds in the two years he has been wearing me. In return, I provide him with answers to mathematical equations and support his further mental development."

"Except for his language." Jane couldn't help but take a sideways glance.

"I see no reason to manipulate his language habits as long as communication with his environment works in principle."

"What do you want?" Norman had relaxed a little again.

"Your security rating is not high enough to let you in on my mission."

"Can you tell us where you come from? From one of the more technically advanced parallel worlds?"

"No. From the future."

Jane crossed her arms snidely: "Nonsense. There's no such thing as time travel."

"My level of information differs in this respect."

Norman looked uncertainly back and forth between the two, while the Lordmagus leaned back in his chair and followed the conversation passively, but visibly fascinated. Norman only hesitantly intervened in what was an unfamiliar topic for him: "So Leo told me that time travel is completely impossible. Time travelers actually only change dimensions in the direction of a parallel world in the past or present."

"My level of information differs in this respect."

Jane was convinced that such a thing as time travel was completely impossible and she didn't give a damn what this piece of tin believed: "Listen, talking clock..."

Norman interrupted her, which earned him a nasty sideways glance: "Do you actually have a name?"

"W.A.T.C.H. My name is an acronym for Scientifically Accurate Temporal Computer Historian."

Norman and Jane looked at each other briefly and rolled their eyes in sync. The ability of technicians to come up with sensible names for their inventions had probably not improved significantly in the future.

"As fascinating as this exchange is, I'd like to get back to the topic. Can you find my artifact?" The Lord Mage still kept his hands folded in a relaxed manner, but there was a slight edge to his voice.

"Positive. I can clearly perceive its effects with my sensors and follow the path."

"Good, then we will postpone further discussions until your return. I will order some gargoyles to carry you."