“It’s a game, to them. They don’t see lives and events, they see pieces and potential. And therein lies their clearest weakness. Everyone wants the strongest piece.”

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Jair woke before dawn the morning of the third day, both weary and restless. He didn’t even try to go back to sleep. He ran through his imprints and basic exercises in the dark, then slipped out the back door to work on the walls some more before anyone was awake.

Technically, tampering with the wards was forbidden, but he had long ago shifted to a policy of ignoring rules that interfered with trying to help people. Improving the school’s protections would only be a positive thing for the students living within, so rules against tampering clearly shouldn’t be applied to his specific situation.

The coming of dawn only reinforced the tense anticipation he struggled to control. Two days left. Half his brief window of opportunity had already gone by, just setting up the barest necessities.

The whole Veshin exhibition had taken nearly all of the first day. His usual shopping from day one was then pushed into day two, which pushed day two’s construction into day three.

As much as he’d rather avoid it, he needed to dedicate some time to feeling out the various noble contacts he’d made during the initiation ceremony and Veshin exhibition. Some would be shallow and useless, perhaps most of them, but if even one yielded significant change it would be worth it.

“Out here again so early?” Raina came to a stop beside him, peering at his unfinished work. “What is all this?”

“Wards.”

“The school has its own wards.”

“It does. They’re not good enough.”

“And you can do better?”

“I’ve been studying.”

“You’ll get in trouble.”

He carved another line with quick precise taps of his chisel. “Undoubtedly. Larenok does love finding ways to make my life complicated.”

“Headmaster Larenok would be within his rights to impose severe restrictions on you if he finds out you’ve been tampering with school wards. That’s not a matter of personal attack.”

“He’d find a way to make it personal. Don’t worry.”

Raina leaned closer, staring at the sharp angles and precise geometry carved into the wall. “And you’re doing this from memory?”

“If you want to help, there’s sandstone putty over there. You can cover up any sections I’ve finished, except the ones that would connect with the existing wards. Those will need to remain open until the last minute.”

She tapped her chin contemplatively. “Do I want to be an accomplice to such blatant misbehavior?”

“You know you do. Having a secret is fun, especially when it’s a harmless one like this.”

“I have only your word that it’s harmless.”

“Do you distrust me?”

“Not distrust, exactly, but you have to admit you’ve been behaving strangely lately.”

“I need admit no such thing. If you’re not going to use the putty, pass it here. This section’s ready to cover.”

“No, I’ll do it.” She began packing the concealer into the gaps around the ward construct pieces, sealing them in place as well as hiding them from sight. “You haven’t even opened a book to study for tomorrow’s exams.”

“They’re not exams, they’re assessments in the guise of an essay. I don’t need to prepare for something like that.”

“But you need to adjust the school’s wards?”

“Yes. Trust me, you’ll be grateful for them before long.”

“Have you been listening to Oliss? You know she’s just making things up.”

Jair paused. “Oliss? Why, what’s she been saying this time?” Her prophecies were one of those variables that didn’t remain constant across loops—anyone whose soulspell touched on time could be unpredictable. But this was the first time Raina brought it up.

“Oh, just that some great monster is going to swallow the academy whole, apocalypse coming soon, you know. Because predicting break-ups isn’t getting enough attention any more. If that’s not why you’re making changes to the wards, why are you?”

Jair grinned. “If I said it’s to prevent a great monster from swallowing the academy whole, would you believe me?”

“Not if you say it with that expression.”

“Probably for the best. Now let’s get this done.”

For a time they worked in silence, falling into the easy sync that made working together effortless. After the first moments, he didn’t even need to give her direction as she intuited the remaining steps to the complex but repetitive construction.

Of all the problems that assailed Jair in his efforts, the lack of available money was quickly moving to the top of the list. He'd grown accustomed to ignoring money, given the sheer ease of obtaining valuables from any number of troves.

Sure, even at his best he couldn't walk up to ancient dragons, but there were plenty of solo vampires who had sufficient resources to be worth dueling for it. Few monsters, however strong, could contend with a prepared archmage. Those times he did die to creatures of one sort or another were usually from being overwhelmed by numbers or forced to bleed his manabody dry.

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Past a certain point, with a soulspace stocked with jewels and artifacts, simple currency became practically obsolete. The circles Jair had lived in those later years traded more in reputation than nirei, and by then he'd grown a dazzling reputation indeed.

The problem being, that kind of near-mythical status couldn't be attained overnight.

Most of his usual targets were located in the northern jungles of the Oriad, Orard's wild untamed heart. But more than continental channels separated Veor from the Oriad, though they would be enough. The Orard ingaldria was an ocean away. Until an appropriate lunar passage, there was no chance of popping over to loot a few vampires.

"Though that's probably for the best," he mused.

"What is?"

"Even if I could find a vampire to fight, I'm not sure my manabody could hold up to the aftermath."

"So you've moved on from fighting dragons to fighting vampires? I'm not sure if I should be relieved or more concerned."

"No, I'm still fighting the dragon. That hasn't changed. Vampires will come after."

"At this point I'm starting to think you're intentionally being ridiculous."

"Of course it's intentional. Accidental ridiculousness is how you end up as king."

"Don't say that too loudly." Raina glanced around, as though to verify they were alone.

Jair snorted softly. "Farshen isn't that far gone yet. He's not going to have me executed for such a minimal perceived slight."

"King Farshen," Raina corrected, staring at him wide-eyed. "So your newfound disrespect for authority goes higher than just the headmaster."

"It's been a long time coming, but yes."

"Do I need to reconsider keeping you around?"

Jair laughed softly. "If you care about your political reputation being a particular way, then yes. But that's been the case for years. You've been steadily wearing away at people's ideas of who you ought to be since the moment you decided to stand up for me. Sharing living space with a swamp-brat isn't doing you any favors either, politically."

"You're more than just some swamp brat."

"I know that, and you know that, but does anyone else who's gossiping about you?"

"I don't think it'd stop them if they did," Raina admitted.

"Exactly. So, you've been fully aware of my potentially deleterious impact on your reputation all along, and always chosen to protect me regardless of the opinions of others. Is it finally time to give in and drop me like the reputational liability that I am?"

"Right when you're coming into your own as a man worth standing beside? Not a chance. That said, I will strongly suggest you not insult our king any more than absolutely necessary."

"No promises. Say, on an unrelated note, what does your father think about high-stakes gambling?"

Raina blinked. "I think his reaction to your investment proposal should make that easy to guess."

"Any chance we can change his mind on that, say, in the next day?"

"I don't see how."

"Me either." The things Ajriol Serin valued and respected weren't things that could be manufactured in a day. And, unlike with the other nobility who'd had no contact with Jair previously, Ajriol had met and interacted with his pre-loop self. So, that made things more complicated. Jair's confidence could easily be mistaken for bravado and affectation, coming from someone like who he'd once been.

The problem was, though he knew plenty of ways to make quick money once he established himself, most of them required preparation he couldn’t shortcut. Approaching the Astralla underworld would be slow, requiring weeks of investigation into every facet of his life before they’d consider trusting him that much.

The games among the nobility would be fine for casual spending money, but insufficient for the kind of expenditures that would actually make a difference. He could weasel his way into the Ielga family’s good graces and position himself as heir-consort, but Homiki was still too young to have unrestricted access to their accounts. Without drastic action, any efforts on that front wouldn’t bear fruit until far too late.

“At this point, I think I’m desperate enough to try anything. At the least, we can use a test run to verify if the Veshin armor is enough to be worth the fuss.”

“I don’t think Father will be convinced to make such a large investment no matter what approach you come up with.”

"So, having established that I need a significant amount of money very quickly, who would be best poised to fulfill that need?"

"It depends on your criteria. If all you need is someone rich, pick anyone. If you need specifically money on hand for immediate spending…"

"Yes. That one."

"That makes it harder. Convincing someone to liquidate their assets on a rush notice for uncertain gains, I don't know anyone who would be willing to do that. It would take something very drastic."

"How drastic are we talking?"

"More drastic than anything we could come up with, that's for sure." Raina laughed.

Jair smiled faintly as dozens of plans, each more drastic than the last, flashed through his mind. "Don't underestimate me."

"That sounds concerning. Should I be concerned?"

"No. Nothing you need to concern yourself with. I'll take care of it.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

Jair waved it off. “I'm going to talk to people about borrowing money. Do you have any suggestions for where to start?"

"The bank?"

"Their vetting process is too long and they won't give someone like me nearly enough. If you weren't legally restricted in access to your family accounts, you could take a loan on my behalf, but you are."

"Right." Raina sighed. "And if my father isn't willing to lend you the money himself, he would be equally unwilling to put family assets up as collateral for me."

"Any hypothetical suggestions for who else I could approach about it?"

"Zialir? I know they've been open to arrangements with high performing students in the past."

Jair nodded. "They're on the shortlist."

"Geron?" Raina scowled. "It's a bit of a stretch. But they were doing better last report. They seem more open to investment opportunities than most."

"Geron, interesting." Tuin-Re Geron was one of his fellow class three initiates, but his parents weren't present at the affair and Tuin-Re went largely unnoticed among the rest. "I seem to recall him focusing almost exclusively on meta imprints to enhance his body and other spells. And not particularly well formulated ones either." He tried to bring the boy's parents to mind, but whoever they were had been insignificant enough that they left no trace in his mind.

After some discussion, he'd narrowed the shortlist down to families Zialir, Geron, Berris, and, reluctantly, Ielga.

Jair had a secret shortlist of his own, people who’d be easily coerced or exploited for short-term gains. He didn’t like relying on it, but it could serve in a pinch.

Petty thievery could only go so far. Grand larceny, he could probably pull off now that he had Maelstrom to cut through any obstacles in his path. But that ran the risk of making enough of a splash that they called in a pastwatcher. Even if he disguised himself, there was no way to disguise Maelstrom.

Blatant criminal activity was an option of last resort. It tended to cause more problems than it solved, in the long run.

For now, bribery, blackmail, fawning, and favor-trading were the weapons of choice. People were much better at protecting secrets when they’d be in the crossfire themselves if the truth came out.

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