Problem-Solving

“That could work.” The Sage of Wisdom rubbed at his chin before frowning and shaking his head. “No, not just could. If I’m being truthful, it’s ingenious and inspired, an idea that only seems possible given your understanding of the Sage Above All. I doubt even I would have considered such an idea as a possibility.”

It was considerable praise from the likes of the Sage of Wisdom, even more significant given that the Sage was a Great Sage, the pinnacle of what it meant to be a Sage.

I half smiled; it was an idea that sounded too outlandish to work, more suited for a work of fiction than even magic could recreate.

But it would work. The Sage of Wisdom seemed confident, so I would also be confident.

“There are still a few issues with your idea, though.” Wisdom said after a moment. “Namely, the issue of power and anchoring.”

“A ritual then.” I pointed out.

“It will still require quite a few participants.” The Sage pointed out. “At least a dozen others of similar mana capacity as yourself.”

“That... might be more of an issue.” Rook frowned. “I can gather maybe eight.”

“Eight will work.” Wisdom offered, “But it will require more time and focus on your part. Your allies won’t be able to rely on you during the ritual.”

“That… well, not like we’ve got a choice, do we?” I said.

“May I offer some advice?” Wisdom suddenly added an expression I didn’t recognize on his face.

“Uh, sure?”

“If this operation should go south, I would advise simply leaving those you are with behind. Your standing is above their station. You are the first living Sage of a new era. I’ve seen war and conflict between lessers, and it’s often ugly and nonsensical. Do not let them draw you into your destruction over what is little more than dogs baring their fangs at one another.”

It was my turn to frown, taking in what Wisdom had just said. “Just... abandon them? Just like that?”

“Of course. While I may have had my reservations regarding you, this idea of yours has shown my worth that your essence could only whisper of. One day, you’ve got the mind and the makings of a high-standing Sage, perhaps even a Great Sage. Average do not dream of what you speak of. Even most Sages did not consider such a wild idea as you. I can see a future where you tread places few ever imagined. It’s almost amusing.”

“What is?”

“You, or rather, the nature of your identity, of your split soul. The original apprentice of the Sage Above All, he was talented but rather soft of spirit and gentle in nature. In truth, they were not suited for the Sage Above All, something I advised my peers when they considered who would be the potential master of a talented youth. Still, it ultimately came down to the Sage Above All to decide, and she agreed. In hindsight, it’s likely that she just never considered it much of a nuisance or a gain; it was just an existing variable that she could play around with. But you? You speak of the impossible, break conventions held long true, while having but a speck of the mana your equal as a Sage would. In fact-”

The Sage of Wisdom seemed ready to say something else before closing his mouth, a smirk and a shake of his head ending the subject.

“It matters little to you, I suppose. My point is and was that should things turn against you, dying a valiant, heroic death does nothing. You stand as an existence above the mere pawns on this chessboard.”

“Righttt.” I was growing uncomfortable with how little regard the Sage of Wisdom had for non-sages. “Anything else?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“There is one matter.” The Sage of White Peaks suddenly popped into existence, startling me.

“Yes?” I questioned.

“Your identity as a Sage. Once, you were titled the Sage Who Flows, but I believe you’ve shown enough of yourself that you warrant a title of your own to proclaim for yourself.”

Wisdom closed his eyes briefly, thinking, before nodding several seconds later.

“Yes, I concur, as I suppose the others also have.”

“That’s why I’m here.” White Peaks laughed. “I was discussing the option with some of the others.”

“Is a self-proclaimed sage title that big of a deal?” I questioned as my head swiveled between the two dead sages.

“Yes and no.” White Peaks informed me. “It is a mark of sorts that as a Sage, you are no longer of the apprentice status. For some, that could be delayed into their seventh ring, others as early as the fifth. You would be one of those early few. There was a hierarchy of sorts within the Sages. Potentials were youths who showed the potential to be taken on as a Sage. Then there were apprentices, those who’d completed the basic education and training and were ready to gain their first ring and literally apprentice under a higher-ranking sage. After that is the standard title of sage. About seventy percent of all who claimed relation to the sages were of that level, with the other twenty-eight percent being apprentices or potentials.”

“And I assume the final two percent were Great Sages?”

“Exactly.” White Peaks winked at me. “At the time of our fall, there were three active Great Sages. In the thousands of years of Sage history, there have been only seventeen Great Sages, approximately two hundred years between occurrences. It was rare for two Great Sages to be born from the same generation.”

“Circumstance and coincidence.” Wisdom merely shrugged. “Above All and I weren’t trained together; we didn’t even meet until well into our sixth and seventh ring, respectively.”

“Back to the original point, as a full-fledged sage, that would grant you the ability to work with other sages and other specific resources directly, but…”

“But you’re all dead, so not exactly like that does much for me,” I answered.

White Peaks smiled stiffly as if he were internally wincing at the proclamation. “Hence why I said it is and isn’t a big deal. It would be a grand accomplishment in our day, but given you’re the only sage of your era, discounting Above All, well, you don’t need me to explain it.”

I didn’t, as I highly doubted the Sage Above All would suddenly descend from the heavens, pat me on the shoulder, and talk to me like I was her equal.

“It might assist in gaining access to lost Sage facilities or such that were open to the general audience of full-fledged sages, but no outsiders.”

“Such as the facility in the north?”

“Possibly, I am not familiar myself with the admission protocols of that facility; the few times I was there, I was there as an honored guest.” Wisdom said matter-of-factly.

“Right, thanks, I guess.” The only sage facility I was interested in was the Citadel of the Moon, but I’d already won the keys to that castle years prior. I just hadn’t had the need or desire to return; in fact, I was explicitly blacklisted from the area for the longest time, thanks to my friends at the Adventurers’ Guild.

I do plan to return one day.

Which suddenly reminded me that there was a Thread-Weaver I was supposed to meet up with again once I achieved my sixth ring; I would need a new God-sleeve for my left arm to hide the Sage Rings that would begin appearing there.

I still have no idea how he knew all those things.

The Thread-weaver I’d met wasn’t a Sage that much, I could say with reasonable confidence; it’s just that I had no guesses outside of that. Perhaps a form of Ascended or Enlightened magical beast like Imako, but even that was reaching, and I knew it.

There's no point speculating.

My attention returned to the present, and I focused on the two sages nearby.

“So, I just give myself a name? Does it matter what name?”

“Usually, sages picked a name that denoted their pursuit or what they believed best represented them. Wisdom pursued wisdom in its purest form, so he named himself as such.”

“And Above All truly believed herself as someone who stood above all others; hence she gave herself the title.” Wisdom didn’t seem annoyed. Instead, he was smiling sadly as he remembered some ancient memories. “The faces of the sages at the coronation were… displeased, to say the least, but in the end, she proved her word true.”

Something that represents me or something I’m in pursuit of.

It was a question one didn’t have to consider often: what was the essence of who they were, or what strove them to seek the metaphorical horizon?

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Horizon... Hmmm, I like that sound of that.

“Was there ever a Sage of the Horizon?”

“Yes.” White Peaks answered after only a moment of thought. “She was a rather interesting person.”

Taken, damn.

“How about ‘Sage of the Split Horizon’?” I questioned after a single pause.

“No, none.”

“Then that’s what I will go with,” I said, confident with my answer.

“May I ask why?” It was White Peaks who seemed curious, scratching at his nose. “Horizon implies an ideal that is unobtainable.”

“That was the original basis of my thought process, yes,” I confirmed. “But, let me ask you something. Have you ever been on a ship before during a storm, looking out at the horizon as the sea threatens to swallow you whole?”

“Once or twice.” Wisdom answered with a half-formed smile, some untold story behind it.

“Well, it’s strange when you see that horizon during a storm; it’s like watching some great split in the earth itself as if the world were on the verge of splitting down the seam.”

“Quite a bit less poetic than seeking a lofty ideal.” White Peaks frowned.

“Because I had my ideal already,” I said, scowling. I found a life I was confident I would be happy with, and everything went to hell. My world was torn apart.”

“So, it’s the inversion of the lofty goal that can be chased but never achieved, instead the representation of those ideals that were achieved but can never be reclaimed. Pessimistic.” Wisdom snorted. “You understand you will live for hundreds of years, correct?”

“It’s not just that. My very existence is the representation, the horizon between two things that can never overlap, the past and the present.”

“Ahh, speaking of Above All’s time transcendence.”

I nodded. I was surprised by my depth of consideration into something as silly as a Sage title; it wasn’t as if I were about to introduce myself to people by the name, yet here I was, considering it from several angles.

“Any other rationale behind the title?”

“Sure.” I nodded; this was the simplest explanation of all. “My affinity is for aulous. The horizon is where the sky meets the sea. Thus, it fits.”

“If that is the case, then I shall ask you a final time, have you settled upon thy title, young sage?” White Peaks asked gravely, the entire process more significantly important to the present sages than me.

“Yes,” I answered after a moment of consideration.

“Then, from henceforth, the Sage who Flows shall now be known as the Sage of the Split Horizon and be recognized as a full-fledged sage. May your pursuits prove endless and fruitful.”

“Great, awesome,” I said, somewhat lacking in conviction. “So… now what?”

“Normally, there would have been some degree of networking or whatnot with other sages near your station, but…”

“But I’m the only one of my era, right.” I sighed. I was beginning to grow restless with my time in the thought dimension of the sages. While it had been invaluable for formulating my strategy for taking down the walls of Theronhold, hanging out with a bunch of dead people who could only reflect on things thousands of years past wasn’t exactly what I was looking to do for the next-

“How long have I been here?” I suddenly questioned, only now considering my grasp on the flow of time was entirely defunct within the strange realm of dead sages.

“Oh, several days.”

“Several- what!?” I nearly yelled. “It’s been that long?”

“Of course, time doesn’t always flow the same here.”

“Shit.” I cursed. “I need to leave now. They’ve got to be at Theronhold by now.”

“Hm, well, I suppose we could assist with that.” Wisdom smirked. “While I’ve not much for celebrations, given you cannot receive most of the boons of becoming a proper sage, perhaps we can offer you something else.”

“Cut to the chase.” I snorted.

“Years ago, you were transferred through space, placed directly in the path of convergence.”

“And in normal people's language?”

“We used the power of the mountain to send you where probability best converged with your stated goal. What Wisdom is likely about to offer is something far simpler than that. Much like a Ring Gate, the pond and this mountain can be used to cut through space itself; I’d say it’s far more powerful than any Ring Gate given the many sages who call it home and can help guide it.”

I scrunched up my eyebrows. “So, you can teleport me there?”

“Correct.” Wisdom said.

“Great, well, it’s been swell, but I have places to be.” I nodded to the two sages. “You can tell the other sages that next time, maybe they can say hello themselves and stop acting like a bunch of scared schoolchildren.”

Wisdom snorted, amused, and White Peaks pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, you can definitely see the marks of Wisdom and the Sage Above All on you, on your character as a Sage.” White Peaks sighed. “Abrasive and all that. Fine, no point dragging this out.”

The Sage snapped, and then I was suddenly falling through a void, a sensation I’d long grown used to after using Ring Gates throughout my life.

-------------------------------

I hope I’m not late.

“What do you mean he just… left!?” Dirk wanted to roar in anger but settled for taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose, counting to ten in his mind.

“He said he wanted to visit somewhere nearby.” Rorak offered sympathetically. “So, I told him I could… cover for a few days.”

“Gods and lords above, damn it,” Dirk muttered. “I thought it was strange he was always conveniently missing. If it weren’t for who he is, I’d have him strung up and lashed until the whip broke.”

“I’m not certain that would end well,” Rorak said.

“Yes, I’m aware, hence the entire ‘If it weren’t for who he is’ part.” Dirk sighed. “Do you know when he will return?”

“Soon, I think?” Rorak spoke, uncertain. He doubted a man like Zero would abandon, but he also hadn’t gotten every detail from him before he left.

“I hope so.” Dirk frowned. They were camped outside the city, and both sides were beginning to grow antsy. They’d made a big show of settling in. For a relatively small deployment to have decided to set up camp outside the most unconquerable city in the country, it had made its inhabitants uneasy that there was something amiss. Still, that unease was likely at its limit, and a probing force would certainly be coming shortly. If it arrived before Rook did, the battle could prove disastrous even if they escaped largely unscathed. They were outnumbered significantly, and each casualty would be felt within their forces several times before the city truly paid attention to their losses.

This entire operation hinged upon Rook. It had only been considered initially with the Third Star leading it, his power great enough to make capturing the city possible potentially. Even then, it had been considered a long-shot attempt only to bring the war to a close before it could ever drag on in the first place, a move of unlikely surprise.

They needed Rook.

A cadet suddenly stormed into the tent as if on cue, saluting the two officers.

“Sir- Sir’s.” The cadet corrected, outranked by both Dirk and Rorak.

“Speak.”

“It’s him. He just… appeared in the middle of camp and then asked for you.”

“Him?” Dirk questioned.

“Zero.” The cadet answered, gulping.

Oh, right. I can understand how they might look at things.

Rook had been M.I.A. for the last few days, with excuses about his absence that few, if any, had questioned, so his magical appearance in the middle of the camp was bound to start rumors of some clandestine secret operation.

For fucks sake, though, if I don’t prefer that, then the truth that he’d gone sightseeing is to be spread, though.

It’s not like Dirk hadn’t been one of them under false illusions about the whereabouts of the enigmatic adventurer-turned-teacher-turned-wanted criminal-turned-freedom fighter.

“Bring him to me and make it quick.”

I should ask for a raise.

-----------------------------

I had to blink several times as the sunlight struck my face, appearing dead center of a camp.

Well, that was easy.

I hadn’t expected to be teleported directly into the camp; I’d been expecting to land just nearby or so.

Glancing around, I saw several soldiers staring at me in shock and even some faces of awe.

Right, well, that’s uncomfortable.

“You.” I turned to face the youngest-looking of the bunch.

“M-me, sir?”

“Yes, you. I need you to find Dirk and inform him of my return.”

I had no doubt my leave of absence had already been discovered, so it would be best to bluster my way through and show no sign of remorse.

It doesn’t look like they’ve been attacked yet, so we should be fine in that department—no harm, no foul.

The young man saluted to me, another strange feeling, before taking off.

I wasn’t surprised the young man knew where Dirk likely was; he’d basically taken over as the lead commander of this little warband, after all.

I only had to wait a few minutes before the young man returned, jogging up and saluting.

Again.

“Right this way, Sir.” The young man nodded to me as he led the way.

He must be what, seventeen, maybe eighteen? God, he looks like a child playing grown-up.

The thought made me uncomfortable. Kids should be learning and taken care of, not playing war.

It's not really ‘playing’ now, is it?

Except it was, and perhaps only I understood. It was a matter of perspective. Young men and women nationwide would die in droves, fighting to the bitter end in what amounted to little more than ants fighting over a sand pile. All it would take was a certain Sage out there to decide she was bored, and she could crush them all, me included.

So, they -we- were playing war because, in the end, they were like fragile little toys, be it from some supreme Sage or just their leaders deciding where their lives were more valuable.

Best do what I can then.

Following the young man, I was soon presented with a tent that looked little different than the rest of the tents; marking your commanders was like inviting an assassination.

“Zero.” I heard Dirk as I pulled aside the tent flap, Dirk and Rorak watching me with crossed arms.

“I’m back,” I said plainly. “And I’ve got the solution to the problem of the wall.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear we didn’t come all this way for no reason.” Dirk sighed, letting his façade drop as soon as the young cadet had left. “I was told you were off visiting someone?”

“Something along those lines,” I answered, deflecting. What matters is that when I was gone, I figured out exactly how to pierce the walls. There is good news and bad news.”

“Good news first,” Dirk said instantly.

“Well, the good news is that it’s possible.”

“If that’s the good news, I’m worried about the bad news.”

“The bad news is that I require about eight of our best mages to help perform a ritual.”

“Of course.” The man seemed to want to nap, but he shrugged it off within a moment. “And how long will it take?”

“Four days.”

“Shit,” Dirk exclaimed. “Four days without our best mages is asking us to go into the upcoming battles without our strongest support. We were meant to compensate with magical might for what we lacked in numbers.”

“It’s that or sit outside their walls and starve until we surrender, or they kill us with overwhelming numbers.”

“I’d rather not starve.” Rorak finally spoke up. “It sounds like a good plan to me, the not starving part.”

“Thank you, Rorak.” Dirk sighed once more. “Fine, I’ll call in the others, and you can explain the plan to us all simultaneously. It will take roughly half an hour as they finish up with other duties around camp. Then, you can regal us with your magical genius that ensures our victory, as once again, we’re all here relying on you to do the impossible.”

“No pressure, thanks,” I muttered.

“In the meantime, go get something to eat or take a bath or whatever you want to do with the next half an hour.”

“Roger that.” I snapped a salute, one I could admit to being somewhat sarcastic. I wasn’t one to be pointing fingers, considering I’d gone missing for several days, but having Dirk come down on me about how everyone was counting on me wasn’t exactly inspiring me.

That, or I was still feeling combative after prolonged exposure to the Sage of Wisdom.

Leaving the tent behind, I quickly found directions to the nearest dining tent. The captives we’d had were missing, so I had to presume they’d been given to the city. It was also probably part of why we hadn’t been attacked yet, a sense of, if not gratitude, at least pity toward launching an assault so soon after prisoners had been freed. That wasn’t the only reason they hadn’t attacked yet; in fact, I could guess what that other reason was.

Me.

Or, more accurately, the stories of me, of what I’d done, had probably spread from our released prisoners.

But even then, all good things ended, and I could surmise that Dirk was right to be concerned about an impending attack; a testing force would likely be shortly on its way.

Not my problem.

I was here for my magical talents, not my skill as a commander. All of that figuring and planning was best left to the career professionals.

Feeling my stomach begin to growl, the thought of eating had finally awakened it after several days of dormancy; I quickly marched toward the smell of food.

Eat first, and plan one-of-a-kind rituals later.