“You are late, Private.” Fynn's powerful voice was heard all over the plaza before the Arcane Sanctum.

“The sun has yet to greet me.” I retorted with a frown. “I’m well before the accorded hour.”

“Everyone else is already here, that makes you late.” I groaned mentally at his words. “And where’s your uniform?”

I looked down at my clothing, and yes, I wasn’t wearing it. I had come straight from Thal’mer and I didn’t have the time nor the presence of mind to change my clothes.

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” I retorted and Fynn seemed to think the same as he didn’t bother to protest any further.

And he was right, everyone was here. More people than I had expected, that’s for sure. Fynn and Amira stayed together, both of them wearing their pitch-black military uniforms. The next one I noticed was Kirielle. She was wearing an overdecorated and formal tunic that didn’t suit her. Another person was wearing the same tunic beside her.

But the most eye-catching people were a duo of ellari. One was a tall dark blue man with a purple tunic that looked more akin to armor than clothes, and the other one was a violet woman with a shining golden open dress that... highlighted her assets.

It was easy to tell who those two were.

“What’s an academy student doing here, Albeyr?” The armored man lazily pointed at me, circling my tunic with his finger.

“He’s one of my soldiers, Deyn,” Fynn responded. “As for his utility, he’s a healer...”

“And what use is going to be a student healer?” The man interjected.

“...who is of the eleventh star.” Fynn stopped talking and the man’s expression suddenly relaxed, then substituted by a slight blush.

“I see.” He responded taciturnly.

“There are more people than I expected,” I asked Amira whilst everyone was discussing.

“Yes,” she nodded, “we managed to get both of the Ministers and heads of Houses we had planned. Redundancies, but you can never be sure.”

“I agree.” I looked at the colorful group. “Who are they?”

“The one wearing the same clothes as your mentalist friend is Dai Nagor, the Minister of Agriculture. The clothes are just the official Minister's garments. The... revealing woman is the matriarch of the Kryol House, Auran Kryol, who specializes in Force magic. And the man discussing with Fynn is my father, Ol’oin Kalyd, the patriarch of the House Kalyd. As for the specialization, it isn’t hard to imagine.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” With a quick Soul Sight, I saw that everyone here except Dai Nagor was of the eleventh star. The naturalist in question was just of the ninth star. And it made sense, he was a Minister, not a fighter or a scholar. “Is your father as strong as you?” I asked her as both were of the same star.

“He’s not,” Amira responded without hesitation. “But per the decree of the High Arcanist, no military man or woman can become the head of a Noble House.”

“I didn’t know that,” I admitted, “but it kind of makes sense? He definitely wouldn’t want to give a soldier much political power.”

Fynn raised his hand, not a single word came out from his mouth, yet everyone stopped their conversations and looked at the electromancer. That signaled how much attention and expectation were on the man’s shoulders right now.

“In a few minutes, we are going to enter the Arcane Sanctum and I’m going to request the ish’mat’era.” The Command Sergeant Major spoke. “As you have seen, we have more than enough people to invoke the duel, if anyone is having second thoughts, they are free to go.”

No one did.

I don’t know if it was because they were intimidated, or they truly felt like supporting the cause. It made sense for Amira’s father and Kirielle to be here, but I couldn’t know the motivations behind Auran and Dai.

“Alright.” Fynn nodded after everyone stood in place. “The plan is as it follows. We’ll all go to the Audience Hall, there I’ll make my intentions clear. According to one of the recent letters I received from Au’ter, the High Arcanist will ask who the petitioners are and for them to present their selected champion. Then everyone except the champion will be asked to leave the room.”

This was to be expected. The Audience Hall at the top of the Arcane Sanctum would become a rough battlefield.

“That’s basically the gist of it, but I do have an extra petition for you, Private.” I looked at Fynn. “The ish’mat’era isn’t a duel to the death, but we are talking about a fight between eleven-star and twelve-star mages. Survival isn’t guaranteed. No matter the result, I want you to heal whoever is still moving once the fight ends.”

“Even if the winner is the High Arcanist and you’ve perished?”

“Yes.”

I couldn’t understand his intentions, but I nodded. But one thing is sure, if Fynn were to die, that man wouldn’t get healed.

“Let’s go.” Command Sergeant Major Albeyr ordered, and everyone obeyed, even the mighty heads of the Noble Houses or the influential Ministers of the Arcane Sanctum.

We walked into the massive building in grim silence. The guards on the doors didn’t stop us, they even straightened as we entered. Our committee was formed by two high-ranking military officers, two heads of Noble Houses, two Ministers, and... well me. I kind of was the odd one out here.

But I was the only healer present.

Kirielle notwithstanding, of course. Whilst I trusted her to fix people’s psychological problems and illnesses, as a neuromancer she couldn’t heal the body, only the mind.

Everyone followed Fynn to the center of the Arcane Sanctum where the artificial leyline split off from the main one and ascended into the ceiling. The floor below us grumbled momentarily and we began moving upwards.

The slow ascension didn’t help our sore moods, but at least, it allowed us to slowly dawn on the upcoming battle. This was the moment.

The levitating platform moved us many floors upward, perhaps forty until it finally stopped. We weren’t greeted by a grandiose room, but a dimly lit one.

I didn’t know what was happening, but everyone moved with great confidence, so I followed them. It would seem I was the only one here who hadn’t ascended the Arcane Sanctum before.

The doorway we crossed led us to the exterior. Powerful wind currents thrashed around, but none strong enough to destabilize us or make us trip.

The outside of the Arcane Sanctum was a continuous balcony that circled the whole tower, it wasn’t very wide, but it certainly wasn’t small. Most sections of the balcony floor were made out of sturdy glass, though some white stone beams gave the structure cohesion.

Embedded into the walls, there appeared to be some open elevators, just like the platform that brought us here but far smaller. One of them was still big enough for the seven of us to ride.

Then we were greeted by the Audience Hall.

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A colossal room that occupied the whole floor of the Arcane Sanctum. The walls were made out of violet glass and they towered over ten meters high. Fynn opened the five-meter double stone door as if it was nothing, allowing me to see the interior.

The artificial leyline cut through the middle of the room, but more importantly, on top of the leyline lay a throne made out of glass. Made out of glass and stuffed with a myriad of cushions, the High Arcanist sat on it.

En’yen Yagul, the High Arcanist of Ferilyn and the only mage of the twelfth star in the world looked at us with interest.

Alike Amira’s father, Yagul wore garments that resembled more armor than a tunic. His armor, made out of dark purple leather, was embedded with gems. They looked like amethysts, but I couldn’t be sure. It could have been sizeable chunks of purple manite. Which were far more expensive than the gemstones. Whilst the gems shone with a light purple, the High Arcanist skin remained a mate dark purple.

As we walked forward, traversing the colossal yet empty Audience Hall, I finally saw the High Arcanist’s staff which had been previously occluded by the overwhelming light coming out from the leyline.

The shaft of the staff looked like a normal tree, not like the ter’nar of Ferilyn, but its white wood split into a canopy like those threes. Yet instead of leaves, the High Arcanist’s staff had gems of multiple colors, it was impossible for an ellari to not recognize them.

White, pink, blue, violet, and purple.

The colors of mana.

The staff gleamed like a pastel-palette rainbow as the light from the leyline was reflected by the gems. These ones were clearly manites, one for every step in the ladder of mana coloration, even some in-betweens.

The entourage stopped halfway through the Audience Hall and the High Arcanist stood up. It was difficult not to be impressed by his size. En’yen Yagul was without a doubt the tallest ellari I had ever seen. The man stood at a towering three meters, maybe even more, or at least that was the sensation he gave with the leyline standing behind him. The colossal staff from the root to the canopy was shorter than him, even if it towered over most ellari by itself.

“This is quite the gathering,” Yagul spoke with a neutral voice. Not powerful, yet not unbefitting of his stature and status. “Command Sergeant Major Albeyr, Sergeant Major Kalyd, Auran of the Kryol House, Ol’oin of the Kalyd House, the Minister of Agriculture, the Minister of Education, and... a student of the academy? Well, certainly quite the diverse group.”

“You know why we are here.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement that Fynn made.

“Indeed.” Yagul took a step forward, and I could feel the mana in the room suddenly shift. “I haven’t been exactly secretive with my... endeavors, but neither have you been, Ceaseless Storm.”

The leyline shone slightly brighter. Not by a lot, probably imperceptible for others, but my inner arcanist felt it without looking.

Ol’oin, an arcanist of the eleventh star, also felt it as he took a step forward.

“I, patriarch of the Kalyd House, chose Fynn Albeyr as my champion for the ish’mat’era.” The man intoned powerfully, his voice reverberating through the crystal halls.

That prompted one of the Ministers to come forward.

It was Kirielle.

“And I, Minister of Education of the Arcane Sanctum, chose Fynn Albeyr as my champion for the ish’mat’era.” Her voice was carried differently than the others. It was clearer and simultaneously soothing. I detected she had carried her words also through the cognitive plane.

Fynn took a step forward, now putting himself at the head of the group.

“My name is Fynn Albeyr, Command Sergeant Major of the military of Ferilyn, and I accept their summoning.” Lightning crackled around him. The smell of the air changed as ozone formed. “En’yen Yagul, High Arcanist of the Ferilyn Meritocracy, I challenge you to the ish’mat’era and end your reign of blood.”

Upon such declarations, Yagul only spoke two words.

“I accept.”

He hit the ground with the end of his staff, and the glass wall of the Audience Hall sprung into a million lights. They shifted from translucid to opaque, the room became dimly lit as now the sun no longer filtered through the windows, making the leyline the main source of light.

“The petitioners may now leave the Audience Hall.” Unlike before, his voice now echoed through reality itself. They radiated power.

Almost as if we were compelled by his voice, everyone except Fynn left the room, the stone gates closing behind us with an act of magic.

“And now?” It was Dai Nagor, the Minister of Agriculture, who asked the question we were all asking ourselves.

“Now we wait,” Amira said silently, her eyes locked on the gates.

It didn’t take more than a few seconds for hell to break loose. Even if the glass walls of the Audience Halls had become opaque and shone brightly, they were overwhelmed by the sparks coming from the inside. Blue and purple would shine intermittently, the flashes radiating like a thousand suns.

I could tell that the room, the windows, and the gates were inlaid with powerful and expensive enchantments. Most were simple magical and physical reinforcement, but some were sound-muffling enchantments. And good ones at that. Yet that didn’t stop the thunder and the explosions from almost bursting our earlobes.

We waited with great expectation and fear for hours.

The sun had already risen up and the city had woken up. From the top of the balcony, through the glass floor, I could see the gazes of civilians and mages looking up at the Arcane Sanctum. The towering needle in the center of the city had become a glorified lighthouse.

I couldn’t understand how they could last this much time in a fight. Normally, mage duels lasted minutes, if not seconds as spells got more and more ridiculous the higher you went on the Starry Tier. But not hours.

The moment the sounds of battle stopped I could feel my heart stop simultaneously.

Seconds later, the gates opened.

It took me seconds to comprehend what I was looking for, but someone reacted faster than me.

“Fynn!” Amira rushed into the Audience Hall toward an unmoving black and blue mage on the ground.

The High Arcanist stood up, seemingly unhurt. He looked at Amira with a tired looked.

It didn’t take me more than three seconds to rush to Fynn’s body and examined it. His face was slightly burned, but otherwise unhurt. Most importantly, he still breathed.

“He’s alive, oh thank the Arcane, he’s alive,” Amira muttered between sobs as she held Fynn’s head.

I wasn’t so optimistic.

“Stop!” I shouted at her. “Don’t move the body.”

My sudden outburst disconcerted Amira, but she obeyed, slowly putting Fynn’s head back into the ground. Fynn was alive, yes, but not for long if he didn’t get any medical assistance soon.

“Brain activity?” I asked Kirielle who already made it to my sight.

“Low, but active.” She diagnosed without raising this voice. “Symptoms?”

I looked at the unmoving electromancer. His face looked burned, two-degree burns, non-lethal. His soul wasn’t damaged, nor was his mind. The damage purely lay on the body. It was obvious with a more curated look. The blood vessels on his blue face slightly shone purple.

“Mana poisoning,” I responded.

For all the possibilities we had accounted for in our sparring, we had forgotten the most obvious one whilst dealing against a leyline walker. If only we had prepared better...

Fynn’s current status was a problem, I had no way of curing mana poisoning. Neither I had survived mana poisoning before. I had died multiple, unnumerable times because of it. I just avoided it by resurrecting myself.

Thankfully, we had many proficient arcanists in our entourage. I began casting a spell but kept it to myself. If I didn’t use it in Fynn, I would probably end up needing it myself.

“Amira,” I called out to the grieving woman, “start casting Disruption Field.”

The Disruption Field spell was a ten-star arcane spell that worked as the evolution of Purify, which was at the same time the evolution of Cleanse. The Cleanse spell series had two functions, but the only one that mattered right now was the one that removed foreign mana from the body. And unlike Mana Field, the other field-type arcane spell, Disruption Field repealed mana instead of attracting it. One was the culmination of Mana Pond and the other of Mana Vacuum.

“I... yes!” Flames ignited in Amira’s eyes as she started spellcasting.

Mana poisoning was truly problematic. It wasn’t like combating a single sickness, but thousands of small ailments. I began by casting Invigorate on Fynn’s body to give it extra strength to survive long enough for the Disruption Field and I also used Soothing Touch to calm his unstable soul. Leyline damage could penetrate the planes easily. I could see Kirielle doing the same but for his mind.

He had broken some ribs and burst some blood vessels, but with a single cast of Regeneration, I solved that. Taking into account the fact that Disruption Field is a ten-star spell and had a considerably long spellcasting time, I used Greater Cure, a spell typically reserved for physical poisons on his body. It wouldn’t take much effect as mana wasn’t entirely physical in nature, but it would help.

I used another cast of Regeneration to accelerate his blood production and a few cantrips to make his heart pump at a slower rate. I couldn’t allow the mana to become stale on his blood, but pumping blood too fast would accelerate the corruption.

A minute later, the Disruption Field kicked in.

I instantly had difficulties controlling my mana, but considering I mostly used my soul, the corporeal spell didn’t obstruct me.

Fynn’s expression rapidly improved.

He was stable.

He would survive.

“Done?” The High Arcanist spoke with disinterest. “You can go now then, your little plan has failed.”

The lack of emotion in his voice made my blood boil. Then I remembered what Au’ter secretly told me. I weighed it down against my promise to Marissa, but unfortunately, I was a hotheaded moron.

I stood up.

“En’yen Yagul,” I shouted, “I declared you to a duel!”

My proposal made the mighty made slightly stumble in surprise. But mostly offense. ‘How dare a student challenge me?’ His expression said.

“I see that you have more than enough Ministers and heads of Houses to declare a new ish’mat’era, but I regret to inform you that only one in half a decade can be declared.”

I didn’t know that, but it didn’t matter. That wasn’t my intention. I gritted my teeth as the words that I was about to say hurt me.

“I, Edrie Nightfallen, mystic of the eleventh star, challenge you, En’yen Yagul, High Arcanist of the Ferilyn Meritocracy and arcanist of the twelfth star, to claim the right to lead my lineage as the founder of a new Noble House!”