Some Typeless naturally wanted to take their benefits and run. Those were the ones who didn’t make it into Allegiance, and so didn’t get Marks, didn’t get Valences... but they could get good jobs that made good money, even as they watched their companions risking their lives and improving with almost breakneck speed as they did so, capable of casual use of powers and spells those who left didn’t have and were not given access to.
From the viewpoint of the Families, ours was an interesting experiment and nothing more. Without access to higher tiers of spells and the ability to improve, Typeless ‘wizards’ weren’t worth much at all. The word was soon a mocking insult among the elite who talked about them.
The fact that those who joined us could and would improve was a minor, unseen factor. The fact we were recruiting mages of White, Yellow, and Orange to join us, and accepting Blues and Greens who likewise Swore Geases and were not in the service of others, and we could teach THEM Wizardry of their Elements, was judged largely inconsequential. After all, just knowing the core spells and such from the Spellhouses gave broad diversity in that Element as one leveled, multiple Elements giving people more than enough spells to handle multiple situations. The elites only had to follow the tried-and-true advice that had kept them in power for ages.
That Levels in Wizardry guaranteed Magery breakthroughs was not something we let slip, because it was a benefit for those who chose to follow us. That true Artifice and Alchemy changed the way people looked at the world was, too.
And, of course, the money continued to flow in. If they looked down their noses at us, they still wanted the new spells and Toys and geegaws and items of minor magic that started coming out of Coralost as a new wave of wizards and artificers and alchemists began to play.
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Sama set down a lead case next to me, grinning with malicious glee. I glanced at it, nodded, and stole her moment by saying, “Look at this, Sama.”
She blinked, rolled her eyes, and bent down to look, muttering, “’Hello, Sama! I see you’ve got some awesome trophies from a wickedly clever scheme with you!’”
“’Fae, you’re too kind, complimenting my modest self that way!’” I shot back, pointing at the screen showing test results for the new class of high schoolers... pardon, vocational Magic School students, at Coralost Academy.
Sama’s eyes glittered at the list of Assayed Stats. “Those are talented kids... with unawakened Starfields. Sixteen of them? They could all use an Awakening Stone. Why are they in Coralost Academy?”
“You and Briggs’ reputation that sterling? You know word has to be getting out. None of these kids are children of your employees, I checked first. Looking at the jobs they have, and things they are doing, there’s clearly a hundred times more Typeless working here than mages. The Typeless have good jobs, their magic is improving, and its obvious bunches of them have made Adept... but none are leaving for other pastures, despite some absolutely enticing offers, I’ve been informed many times.”
“The last time the Ilitches tried to bribe away one of my people, I responded by hiring away their entire Typeless domestic staff and most of the Novice Mages who worked for him. They still work here... and he doesn’t know it, but they aren’t Novices anymore. He threw a fit for a month.” She eyed the names. “Are some of those foreign transfer students? I’m certain some governments and Families want the secret of Typeless wizards, even if they are inferior. Some magic is still better than none, after all.”
“I actually don’t know. Would you like to talk to them and see?”
Sama considered that a moment, then nodded. “That seems like a good idea,” she agreed. “Now, can you gush over my haul?” she wheedled at me, giving me a tug on the shoulders.
I sighed theatrically, unflipped the lock, and tossed open the lid.
Amulets, pendants, two bracelets, one earring, one ring. A bit on the gaudy side for me, but when the Earth Lead (plumbum/nihilor) box was opened, the Mana in the air tingled and something started trying to divert it towards the ten different items in the box... except the interwoven ripples couldn’t find what they were looking for in a White Mana Zone.
I held up the obsidian-inlaid ivory Bracelet. “Undeath Element,” I murmured, staring at it. “Plus Sound and Healing.” I eyed the Ring and Earring. “I gather making the non-Elemental versions must be difficult, as I don’t doubt there are more of them.”
She nodded calmly. “One of each variety I found, no broad ones. I could probably get more if I raided the other Families, but I figured the seven Elements, plus one from a few Advanced Elements, would do the job.”
“Any problem if I completely break these down?” I asked, watching the things try to draw in Mana in a White Mana Zone, the peculiar attuned ripples rising from each of them both similar and very individual.
“You know those things go for the price of a Soul Seed, right?”
“It’s why I asked, right?”
Sama smirked and shook her head. “Knock yourself out. But you have to let me watch. There’s a unique kind of thrill you get when you trash a multi-million-dollar Toy, y’know?”
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“Oh, you better believe it. And then, when I make the alternative to it via Artifice for a few goldweight, well...” I set the Undeath Element Bracer back in the case and flipped it shut, folding my arms across my chest to regard it. “Hah! A hundred million dollars in sales, gone like that! Are these like master copies they kept as references?”
“I think so. The Sharif are turning Cairo upside down looking for the thief.”
“They aren’t going to be happy you’re on this side of the ocean already. Which reminds me... how the heck did you Teleport across the Atlantic?” I turned my head on her inquiringly. “At its absolute narrowest point, that’s a sixteen-hundred-mile Teleport!”
“Which, if you have absolutely the right kind of Seal Focus, can be modified to a Waterjump, right?” she wheedled me.
I opened my mouth and closed it. “Tremble’s not Casting at Twenty, only Fifteen,” I finally said. “I’m assuming you actually ran or sailed to the applicable points. Ten miles per Caster Level, doubled for a Lived-Line, Doubled for an Energized Seal Focus sending you off, another doubling for an Energized Seal Focus receiving. You’re still only at twelve hundred miles.”
“Well, there you have it. Obviously, I only Jump twelve hundred miles!” Her eyes sparkled mischievously.
“You don’t really want me to go looking for a relay point in between there, do you?” I sighed aloud, and she pouted dramatically at being found out. “You specifically hinted at Waterjump, so it’s floating on or just below the surface. You can’t use an obvious anchor or Aquatics might come by and cut it, but you need a positional fix, so you can’t let it drift.” I tapped my chin thoughtfully. “Given the means available to you Rune-smithing... I’m assuming some kind of floating Disk, probably invisible, built along the principles of an Inertial Rod, probably in a sargasso or other thick area of green to conceal it. Either that, or you inscribed it on some random clump of rock sticking up out of the sea out there.
“It probably Energizes at dawn. So, it’d be four hundred miles offshore, letting you jump to the pre-set self-Energizing Foci you have in place on the opposite shores.”
Sama rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “You are SO annoying at times. Yes, it’s a Disk floating in a sargasso of giant seaweed out there. The place is forty miles in diameter and a known navigational hazard, with tons of Aquatic Beasts living there. Briggs and I ran across the ocean on a lark to get the Lived-Line connection across the water, and put it in place out there so we could make the Waterjump once we were high enough Level to do so. We had to wait until Fifteen, as Ten just got us to the mid-Atlantic, and there’s absolutely nothing out there to use as a reference point. We would have had to put in some evasion things for a buoy-type Disk instead, and decided that camouflage among lots of living stuff was more useful.”
“Raise your Teleport to VI, and the problem should go away.”
She squinted at me. “I don’t happen to have Teleport VI among my Artificing knowledge,” she wheedled happily.
Reach Teleport, basically. Which, as a VI, I couldn’t Cast yet, although I could dump the Meta, which did jack-all for putting it into an object. “Apologies, don’t have that Valence for a true example. My Reach Teleports are from cross-Valence Theurgy.”
She put her head down on mine, bonk!, and looked into my eyes. “Is someone not breaking through to Eleven who totally should be able to?” she asked me at close range.
“It’s not that simple. What did you two do to break Ten?”
She straightened back up, looking away as she tapped her chin with her finger. “I’m not sure. Melee-killing Commander Aquatics, much to their disbelief, or offing those two goddamn Archmages who thought they were all the shit, and most of their Families? Whatever, when we wanted to punch the Second Ceiling, it was already satisfied.”
Okay, by the standards of this world, that was pretty fucking epic. Non-Casters just didn’t DO those things.
“Seriously, how can you NOT have satisfied the requirements for breaking Ten?” she asked me archly.
“I have an absolute base Caster level of Twenty. It probably wants me to do something worthy of a Great Archmage or half-Sage.” I arched an eyebrow. “Y’know, someone breaking through to Legendary status.”
“What?!” Sama was caught between a snort of disbelief and a guffaw of amusement. “That is so, so... fucking appropriate?” she finally admitted, thinking about that. “Crap, are the others going to have the same problem?”
“Probably.”
She ground her teeth. “Is this relative to the Archmage Barrier, too?”
Making it to Mage required a massive boost of energy, which the Seven Stars Formation and the Refactory Towers could provide, saving tons of money there. But making it to Archmage required ‘inspiration’, a way for the Mage attempting the leap to grasp the higher magic and concepts of Archmagery, exploding their Nebula to a full Galaxy and taking the step to becoming one of the most powerful people in the entire world.
“I literally do not know for most of the Typeless. I’m pretty sure I’ve got that handled with my Arcane Star Theurgy. I have multiple Levels, layers, and Types of magic mastered that nobody else on the planet does. But as far as Power of Ten is concerned, I’m a True Archmage, and taking the next step is Legendary, becoming a High Archmage, or a Sage, here.”
Sama turned around and leaned back against my desk, arms folded and looking down at me. “There’s no way you haven’t been planning for this, so I assume you have ideas. The Spellhouses obviously aren’t doing it. Setting up schools teaching Wizardry isn’t doing it.”
“Those might have been my Second Ceiling feats a long time ago, if late. Really, being seen as an equal by the Beasts of the Beast Realm probably satisfied the Second Ceiling. But I’m way past that.”
“Didn’t you make a Pyramid to cap that Rift to the Underworld over there?” Sama frowned.
“Yeah, but there really wasn’t much to it, in the end, just a more effective version of the Stone Ring in Pennsylvania.” Helping close the damn Rift in the first place was worth more towards the cap, but really didn’t take making huge magical stones, just time and vivus.
“Oh ho! So, a Pyramid can still be involved in things?” she asked quickly.
“I’m hoping. There’re two places in particular I’d like to build ones, which would be truly useful.” Sama lifted a prompting eyebrow. “The American Firelands, and the South Pole.”
“Whoa!” Sama grimaced. “Not aiming a bit high there, are you?”
“Legendary chutzpah, that’s me!” I admitted. “I think I can get an audience with the Fire Phoenix Emperor. It’s just selling the idea at that point.
“If I can sell him, and the idea works, I might be able to get a major one in place down in Antarctica.”
“Why not here, in human lands?”
“Because it’s going to be a lot harder to sabotage them if they are being guarded by Emperors, who won’t charge us money to do so.”