No protection will suffice. This threat cannot be contained, only held back with blood and spell.

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Jair woke the morning of the second day fully invigorated and ready to go. He stood and stretched, turning in a slow circle as he did so to re-acclimate himself to the place.

Sunlight streamed through the window, lighting up his whole room in golden light. His blocky swampwood bookcase stood out in all its drab brown pride among the curved silver elegance and bold black ornamentation of the bed, dresser, closet, and side table. Pale curtains hung limp over closed windows, hiding the Institute’s crest in unintelligible broken patterns, but the matching white pattern in the rug stood out clearly.

How many times had he stood on this very rug, watching the sky through those same windows? More than he’d ever be able to count. Yet it felt small and foreign to him now, the sharp reality of it not matching up to the impression of it that lingered in forgotten memory.

Before anything else, he ran through his spell imprinting routine and laid in the foundational tracing for his first set of spell imprints. It would be days yet before anything visibly impacted his mana flow and he could do away with the guide diagrams.

For now he’d be going with a standard complement that combined utility with defense. The lightning spells he could draw by hand, while the gravitational and passive shielding sets required exact measurements and took considerably longer without an existing imprint to trace.

Absorb and Reflect would retain their usual place as his hand spells, unconventional choices but not something he’d ever had cause to regret. Most people who fought using magic would slot attacks as their fastest and easiest to cast abilities, but Jair had always been a believer in survival first and everything else after. Even a split-second advantage in activation speed could be the difference between life and death.

He still had a week or two before any of the imprints grew stable enough to resist simple alterations, so he could always change course if something came up.

Jair’s timeline was a tangled mess of causality, running back past where he could have any effect, through the present and his current slate of decisions, into the future with its eternally compounding dire perils.

Raina’s looming encounter with an angry dragon was seeded in deep history. Somehow. Exactly what was going on there, he’d never managed to learn. Jair had tried tracking down Raina’s mother to ask why she had such a ticked-off dragon hunting down her family, but any trace of Tamma Serin’s whereabouts had long since vanished.

Regardless of the reason, the threat remained.

Killing a dragon took a very long time. The active fighting time of an average hunt lasted between seven hours and three days, to say nothing of the days of preparation, tracking down the creature, and luring it into a direct confrontation. Not that dragons were particularly hard to provoke. Prideful creatures, confident of their place at the top of the hierarchy of the world, and not without good reason.

The average hunter party also tended to go after younger dragons. Weaker, smaller, less stubborn and without as much to lose. Brash and self-assured, dragons in their first century of life would be too prideful to retreat and reckless enough to believe they could turn things around regardless of how impossible it became.

A dragon matriarch behaved very differently. With increased strength, more powerful magic resistance, and stronger breath attacks, a matriarch would defend her territory with a fierce violence that an entire pack of younger dragons would fail to match. Indeed, more dragons were killed by other dragons than were ever killed by hunters.

Everyone knew better than to mess with dragon families. Mountains were left well alone, avoided almost as assiduously as running water. Hunts never took place where they could be noticed by anyone particularly dangerous, taking down new dragons as they tried to establish intrusive territories within civilized lands rather than challenging established dragons.

It took a dozen people to take down a single young dragon, and only after hours of carefully prepared violence. A dozen young dragons would be easily torn apart by a single matriarch for intruding on her territory.

There was a reason an angry dragon was considered an existential threat to entire cities. Indeed, Jair vividly remembered this very dragon tearing through the entire city of Hastven to get at them.

Technically, the school had the resources to kill a dragon, just as the palace did, or the noble district, or even the Hyperion Guard. They may not be specialized as dragon slayers, but given time, they had the skills and access to equipment necessary.

Unfortunately, doubling, quintupling, or expansively multiplying the group size wasn't enough to keep up with the power difference between a standard dragon and a matriarch.

The full strength of the continent could eventually wear down and defeat the dragon despite its anti-magic properties. The problem was the attacker’s single-minded nature. Killing the dragon could be done. Short of a pre-planned and focused defense, nothing would stop the dragon from eating Raina before it went down.

It would be a miracle if they could slow the dragon down for more than a few minutes. In those handful of timelines where Jair survived and the Institute staff took down the dragon once it was finished with Raina, the fight generally lasted close to two hours and left the entire academy in ruins. More often, the beast merely shattered the dome as a warning, ate Raina, and flew away.

If they evacuated Raina through the transit platform, the dragon followed. If, if, if… Jair could list off countless permutations, all of which came down to the same point in the end.

Nothing they did could prevent an angry dragon from doing exactly what it wanted.

Once finished with his imprinting layouts, Jair headed out to the main room and spent another hour in stretches and exercises gradually increasing in strenuousness. His already strained body protested, begging him to stop to no avail. Jair hated being stuck at baseline. Driving himself to the edge of his capabilities was one thing, but there was a whole different frustration to being unable to do things he knew he should be able to.

These early days would be the foundation of a whole new sequence. No way he’d leave out any preparation that could help in the future. He’d ignored worse for a whole lot longer, and the lingering traces of the Veshin healer’s soulspell would help solidify the increases far faster than normal.

Already the balance of power was tilting wildly away from anything he'd known in the past. Others could potentially handle things he'd always had to deal with himself, and new gaps might be opened as a result of how drastically the timeline had shifted away from standard baseline.

Aside from upkeep and improvement on himself, there were a handful of useful things he could do that didn’t rely on how the rest of the week played out. Much like getting Lian’s little gang out of the way for the moment, adding protective constructs to the school’s warding scheme would only ever be beneficial. Simple things that he could assemble in his sleep, so there was no need to give the task his full attention.

The suite of protections necessary to give them even a remote fighting chance against the dragon created a significant draw on the Institute’s grid once activated. Jair couldn’t put the final connections in place until the last minute unless he wanted to start an academy-wide investigation, but the vast majority of the work could be done quietly over the next few days.

But he already knew the best he could come up with under ordinary circumstances wouldn’t be enough.

An ordinary weapon would be useless against any creature with enhanced protection, and a dragon’s scales were well beyond that. Even if you found a spot with missing scales, a dragon’s hide could resist a mundane weapon’s attack, or that of a standard soulsword.

The reforged weapon of a mageblade graduate would be Uncommon rarity at worst, and at least one in five managed Advanced—though that required a lot more time than most had patience for, Jair included. To reforge a soulsword to Advanced level tended to be a decade-long effort. He’d done it several times in the past, but once he settled on full ascension as the most likely option for success there was no point aiming for anything but speed. An ascended blade would never be lower tier than its previous version, but it wasn’t guaranteed to be any higher either. That could only be done with procedure and materials.

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He could only hope a Legendary ascendant blade would be enough to tip the balance in his favor.

These first few weeks would be the hardest, though it would be months before his capabilities started to match what he required of himself. For now, he’d focus on augmentation and control. Better to move in a direction and have to backtrack than wait around.

Blademaster and Archmage, titles he would reclaim as soon as possible, were not attained by the faint of heart.

He sat down and started drawing up the plans for what he needed. He was nearly finished when the door opposite opened.

“You’re up early.” Raina yawned as she walked through on her way to the kitchen. “Want anything?”

“Sure, heat me one of whatever you’re having.”

“So, last night we didn’t have a chance to talk about everything, what was it like being an actual competitor?” Raina began pulling out plates and utensils. “You got to see Veshin’s basements firsthand. Anything much change in the past few years?”

“I don’t know. But that reminds me, we need to get Lord Veshin a few million nirei I promised him. And I have some things to pick up in town.”

Raina set down the knives with a clatter. “Wait. You promised him what?!”

“A little under three million.”

Raina stared, speechless.

“It’s very important,” Jair added, holding up the diagrams he’d drawn out for Veshin’s craftsmen.

Raina walked over to look at the drawings, then at his very serious expression, then back to the drawings, growing more perplexed by the moment.

“Armor? We’re mageblades, Jair. You know the ‘mage’ part you’ve been so enamored with?”

“That only starts to matter after we have functional imprints. Until then, it doesn’t matter how many layers we wear.” He shook his long, loose white robe sleeve in demonstration. “Without my protection spells, I have to rely on physical barriers to avoid being, say, skewered and crunched.”

“Since when are you an armor designer?”

“I’ve been interested in the art for a while now. This felt like the appropriate time to take action.”

“You’re serious?”

“Very serious.”

She waited, as though expecting him to laugh.

He didn’t.

She stared back at the drawings. “But… three million? Where are you going to get that kind of money?”

“You, obviously.”

Raina squinted at him suspiciously. “You’ve always refused my offers of financial assistance, and now you go from zero to three million? That’s more than my allowance for the next five years!”

Hm. Perhaps he’d miscalculated what resources he would have available at this point in time. Well, there had to have been a reason he spent so much time toadying up to nobles in the past. Of course it had been for the money. Silly thing to forget. “We can talk to your father. I know of some lucrative investments. We can make it back and then some in a year.”

“Something’s very different about you, Jair Welburne.” Raina walked around him in a tight circle, as though staring at him from a different angle would reveal the secret. “This isn’t like you at all.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Suddenly changing your attitude on basically everything overnight? Yes! Are you sure your sword unlock didn’t break something? Did you get smacked one too many times at the exhibition? I’d blame Bren Tolo and his group of idiots, but clearly you arranged all this well before running into that lot.”

“Lian’s group of idiots,” Jair corrected absently. “Bren isn’t close to being the leader.”

“You know what I mean.” She stepped back to the counter and started slicing the cheesebread. “You were never… I mean, I’m glad that you’ve decided to stand up for yourself, I’m so proud of you, but this is…” she trailed off, taking a big bite of the savory bread without bothering to add a spread, then placed two more slices on Jair’s plate before going back for the meat and vegetables.

“My abrupt shift to assertiveness has taken you by surprise and now you’re off balance and confused.”

“Yes.” She finished her slice of bread and passed Jair his plate. “And that sentence is not one I would ever have expected to hear you utter.”

“Thank you.” He started eating mechanically. “My ability to moderate my utterances is a bit out of practice. I need to get the money right away. It’s critical that Veshin start manufacturing this today.”

“And you couldn’t have talked to my father about it last night?”

“No point. It would have been seen as grasping. At least with you to vouch for me and a full investment plan, we can appear responsible rather than opportunistic.” He pulled out another sheet of paper and stared at it.

“It’ll still come across as a bit opportunistic,” Raina admitted. “Not that it is,” she added hastily. “I know you wouldn’t do something like that. But the appearance of it, one day after putting on that crazy show…”

Jair nodded, still staring at the blank page. He knew a thousand things to invest in, but right now none of them came to mind. He could feel the shape of them, the impression of each, but the specific words of their names escaped him. He’d been away from this part of the timeline for too long, details were lost in the distance and repetition.

“We’ll need to take a walk around the city,” he said aloud. “Maybe more than one. Parein, Vaes.” Jair grimaced. “Astralla.” He may detest the place, but couldn’t deny it had investment opportunities aplenty. Astralla City desperately wanted to be Vaes City, but didn’t quite know how. The regulations and taxes were more stringent, but more than a few of the local businesses could go on to great profit in future.

“If we’re going out shopping, then I’m taking you to a healer.”

“I’m already as recovered as magic can make me. Better than ever.”

Raina met his grin with a flat look. “A specialist healer, to be sure nothing’s gone terribly wrong with your head.”

“I can assure you, my head is in flawless condition.”

“Then you won’t mind if we verify that.”

“I’ve got a lot of things to do and not much time to do them in. I’m fine, I promise.”

“Of course. And why do you keep doing that?”

“Hm?” Jair glanced down. He’d begun to trace the manapath for Absorb on his palm. It was quite a complicated form, eight interlocking sequences elegantly combined together to create the best magical protection short of dragonscales. Or would be once it finished imprinting, weeks later. “Just reinforcing my patterns.”

“Aren't you worried about causing damage before imprint training begins? For someone who put off deciding for so long, it’s strange seeing you rushing ahead recklessly."

"Don’t worry, I know what I'm doing." Jair switched hands, tracing Reflect onto the other. It wouldn’t do much, constant repetition gave diminishing returns after the first couple passes, the manabody needed time to relax into the new shape. Errors in rapid repeat tracing were more damaging to the spell imprint’s functionality than was worth the risk for a tiny increase in imprint speed.

General imprinting practice was to trace everything once daily, and never without guide lines. Once every twelve hours for the very ambitious. But for someone who rewrote his life constantly, it was better to trace too often than forget. Trace the imprint flawlessly every time, and there’d be no problem.

"See? That! That's what I'm talking about. Something's different. And don’t try to play it off as you being tired this time."

"I'm a mageblade now, and I’ve got a dragon to slay. No more time for fooling around."

"This obsession with dragons all of a sudden. Whatever happened to 'as soon as the ceremony is over, I'm sleeping for three weeks straight'?"

"Did I say that?"

"Yes."

Jair laughed faintly. He had been like that once, hadn’t he? "Well. Maelstrom changed everything. I can't even think about resting while there's still so much to do."

"If that sword scrambled your wits—"

"It hasn't."

“So you keep saying.”

“It keeps being true. I don't want to waste hours going to a healer just for them to say 'you shouldn't overwork yourself, even if you are a scholarship student. You can go without studying for one night to get enough rest'. I know what I’m doing.”

“So you say.” Raina sounded utterly unconvinced.

“If I agree to go with you, you’ll let it go.”

“Yes.” She practically exhaled the word, heavy with relief.

“And you’ll stop questioning my inane suggestions for the rest of the week.”

“Never.”

“Worth a try.”

“But you’ll come—”

“Yes, yes. It won't help anything, I already know what I'm doing and how to—" Jair cut himself off with a sigh. "You know, never mind, there may be some residuals lingering that I'm not aware of.”

After all, he had never managed to carry something with him back in time before. Until now, his every attempt had destroyed whatever was in his soulspace, or occasionally dropped him out of the timefall along with some nasty soul backlash the moment the item came into his possession.

Neither of which was a valid precedent for this new reality.

“We can check just this once. But if they don’t find anything, that’s it.”

“Deal. Let’s go.”

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