Cira held a jar of shimmering red liquid tightly in her hand. Turning it over, it slowly seeped down towards the lid. The consistency is good, and the color is exactly as I remember. Just translucent enough to let a little light through and a vibrant ruby red. Like Mac before he lost his luster.
“Yep. This is vestigial nectar.” Cira sighed inwardly as Kuja and James both glared at her. “How could I have expected this?”
Picking up on some of the tension, Reverand Shores nervously spoke up, “Why does everyone look so upset with the Captain?”
“This idiot,” James exclaimed, “promised the Third Order something she doesn’t even have for the nectar you just brought.”
“What?!” Shores went deathly pale and there was fear in his eyes when he turned to Cira, “You did what?!”
“What’s done is done.” Cira said curtly, “More is better, anyway. We don’t know how long I’ll be in the loom, and I’d have to thin this much out anyway in order to have enough. No harm will come to anyone so long as they are within Breeze Haven’s barrier and once my soul is repaired, I will personally make sure they don’t bother this island.
“So, what,” Jimbo asked, “We have a week to do everything and then it’s a mad rush to that soul cairn place? How are you going to stop them from following us after you rob them before their very eyes?”
“I bet she plans on killin ‘em.” Joe nodded assuredly, “Worked with Wick’s guys.”
Good grief… “What do these guys even do? All I have to go on is that they sent an unnaturally large man to help Don keep the deritium secure. I don’t even know if I can argue they were complicit in his way of doing business, but it begs the question of why they didn’t just take it for themselves or send mages? I still don’t know what they’re really doing with the deritium. The Gandeux power cities with it, so are these Third Order folk even bad guys?”
“Do the Gandeux really do that?” James was taken aback, “I guess it makes sense if it’s got enough mana to turn Fount Salt into an egg.”
Cira rolled her eyes at the lack of useful information he had to offer, and Shores picked up the slack.
“My father told me about them from back in his paladin days… The Church clashed with them a few times. Wouldn’t be surprised if they still do.” His gaze grew somewhat distant as he reached into his memories, “Anything that happens in the Gandeux or surrounding skies that has to do with spirits or the supernatural catches the Final Sky’s attention—it’s their job to deal with it.”
The ‘supernatural’ was a loose term for the as of yet unexplained. The Church evidently assumed the role of those who explain it. “And…?” So, they investigate any mysterious problems within their purview. But I don’t care about the Church.
“The Third order apparently has similar interests, and my father encountered their mages twice. Once they just disappeared but next time it happened, the whole crew woke up on the next day on the deck of their ship. Nobody knows what they want, but they’re dangerous.”
Cira kept hearing that nobody knew their intentions, but that much seemed clear as any day outside the Lost Cloud. “Well, they want knowledge. That much is obvious. The first time they probably finished learning what they set out for. The second time around, your father and his crew must have interrupted them either studying something or perhaps performing an experiment. What’s curious is that your father lived to tell the tale. How did he know it was the Third Order?”
“Their commander said never to mention the encounter, and my father wouldn’t shut up until he knew why. Kind of forced his hand, I guess.” Shores chuckled fondly as he recalled the story, “He died when his liver gave out, before you ask. Nothing fishy there.”
“Sorry to hear that… but, I don’t get the impression the Third Order kills when they have nothing to gain. Though it would be a concern if they do it for something as menial as mentioning their name. They didn’t even tell me to keep quiet. Does anybody have a credible story of something bad the Third Order has done?”
She looked over her clueless mages, then her pirate pals, and eventually Kuja. They all wore blank faces, shrugged, or shook their heads. Cira landed once again on jaded James, and her glare intensified multiple times over the span of a few seconds.
“Well? Anything?” At this point I have to assume they’re doing some kind of human experiments with deritium, but was that giant in Uru a victim? He wasn’t a mage, but he sure looked like an eager pirate. As the only piece of evidence, it’s shaky at best.
“They’re a secret organization.” James argued, “Why would anyone know about the things they’ve done?”
“Wouldn’t much be secret at that point.” Jimbo agreed.
Sure, it made sense, but that wasn’t what Cira wanted to hear, “One way or the other, I can conclude they want knowledge and don’t like dealing with more trouble than they need to. At the very least, Eliza matches that notion. Until I discover a good reason not to, I would like to maintain amicable relations with them. Hopefully they will realize that killing me won’t bring the deritium back.”
“You—you can’t seriously be thinking about joining them?!” Shores cradled his head in his hands as he looked at Cira with shock and something close to betrayal.
“Of course I won’t join them.” While the benefits they offered were tempting, Cira wasn’t fond of committing her allegiance any which way—it was more like a weathervane. “But I do wish to see their library and stock up on rare ingredients. I’m practically obligated to investigate them when my aura returns at this point, so I may as well make a trip of it.”
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“I think you are getting a little ahead of yourself, Child.” Kuja stopped her.
“Yeah,” James agreed, “Are you forgetting that we’re talking about your plans to double-cross them in a week?”
“I will do no such thing.” This was a hill Cira would die on, “If they don’t like what I did with the deritium, that’s their own fault for not being specific with the terms. They’re supposed to be the wise ones. Whether this sways them or not, I need to return to the forge before I can plan any further ahead. There is no longer time to waste.”
___
Downstairs, Cira let out a sigh as she placed her staff upon the workbench. The onyx which reflected no light somehow seemed to glimmer. She had just moved it out of her father’s collection and into her own the other day, so this was a bittersweet moment.
“It pains me to do this, but we will be turning this staff into a needle.” She gave it one last wistful look. Oh, the things I never got to darken… With another onyx, she could rebuild it, but it wouldn’t be the same. It would just be a new staff.
This was not something of which any blueprint existed, nor was it something her father had ever created. Any good artificing needle absorbed a little mana to offset the cost to the craftsman, but relying on such a function would greatly limit the efficacy, efficiency, and/or longevity of the resulting artifact.
One could always make ridiculous arrays or implement catalysts to make up for this, but that came with its own host of limitations. Without an aura to imbue Cira’s will into the mana which forms a glyph, she would never be able to produce such complex artifacts as she used to.
However, Cira had a staff that was excellent at picking up her will and applying it to its own stored mana. Just like Aquon or Prismagora. In practice, these staves could either enhance her own conjuration or allow Cira to cast smaller spells without interrupting her mana regeneration. She could also cast light spells for less in low-light environments with Prismagora in her hand, for example.
These were all incredibly handy features when she had an aura, but such staves could in a sense be considered her auxiliary auras. Similar to how the seven suns of Fount Salt carried out her every whim. The hard part was getting mana into them in the first place. The dark staff was relatively slow even beneath the mana well, Prismagora could only recharge during the day, Aquon was a blue lump of jelly resting in a punch bowl.
“Is that possible…?” Ike asked, “The needle will be pretty big. Who’s gonna use it?”
“I am.” The entire point was to get Cira back in the game. The staff could manifest her will—if only it could carve glyphs too. This was her aim. “The artifacts I need are a little too complicated to walk you through in a week when we already have far too much to do. The only way this goes well is if I can create them myself—with free mana.”
She slid a paper that she had just finished sketching on across the table and Tawny picked it up with concern, “Are these… supposed to not be complicated? You expect us to carve these glyphs into this staff?
The plans included a few rather detailed magic circles and some of the more difficult runes Cira knew. “You will also need to remove a few, but unfortunately, I can’t make this any simpler. The arrays need to be large enough to never reach capacity, and staves are specifically made to never conduct mana down their haft. Along with converting dark mana back into pure aether, this will be a high-level artifact. You will practically be professionals when you’re done with it.”
Ike stepped in front of Tawny with a determined flare in his eyes, “Then of course we’ll do it. This girl’s just scared of a little challenge.” While his confidence was only a façade, it didn’t falter when Tawny rebuked him.
After a couple minutes, Cira left them to mark up some practice slates to get started and took the opportunity to reconvene with her council of captains. Shores had laid the rest of his materials out on the table, and the other two gazed at them in wonder.
Cira picked up a dark crystal that held a myriad of twinkling stars within it and took a moment to admire the raw gem’s natural beauty as it sat comfortably in her hands. “Well done, Shores. It’s a good size, and definitely genuine.”
“Y-you’re sure, right?” There was a nervous tinge to his voice, “It’s darker than the one I remember.”
“That’s because it lacks mana, which is fine for our purposes. I thought you said it would be expensive, though. I certainly didn’t expect you to bring it back on the first trip.”
Perhaps this was simply the severity of his desire to serve the Saint directly. The man did good work, it could not be argued. Cira almost forgot the thing about him that bothered her.
“You see, my contact is a man of good faith.” Shores twirled his mustache as a grin grew on his lips, “Once I told him who needed it and expressed the urgency, he handed it right over! But it was—is expensive. And he wanted to meet you… Uhh, you see…”
Cira made a displeased face, “You didn’t…”
“H-he can help! He wanted to help!” While Reverand desperately made his case, James shook his head disapprovingly. “He’s an artificer, I swear!”
“And what’s, he waitin’ on the boat?” Jimbo posed a great question. Did he leave him in the dark with all the revenants?
“No, of course not—I left him on the other side of the mountain. I wouldn’t bring him here without express permission from the Saintess herself—”
“Ohhh!” Joe called out from the back.
“Yup.” Jimbo agreed with a laugh, “Back to Green Pit with ya’.”
Shores’ was mortified, looking between the two and then fearfully at Cira, “P-please don’t send me back! I wish only to serve you in my fullest capacity, my Lady Saint!”
“There’s another one. Once you get to Green Pit, just keep on goin’!” Jimbo sneered and even got a chuckle out of James this time.
The man was devastated with his jaw hung slack, and Cira admittedly got a laugh out of the whole thing too, but she couldn’t go that far. “Okay, I know what I said, but he wasn’t here. It’s only fair he gets a pass after the stellar work he’s done here.” Nobody thought her pun was clever, but Shores melted in relief, gazing up at her reverently once again. “From here out don’t bring anybody on without approval, but are you trying to tell me he’s just waiting in the wilderness for you to pick him up?”
“Er, as I said…” Shores shifted awkwardly under her gaze, “He is a man of great faith.”
Cira felt her lungs would collapse if she had to sigh any more today, “Well, go on then! Collect him.” What else was there to say in this situation? Unless he turned out to be a blatantly powerful mage, there should be no issue allowing him to help. She didn’t like the whole faith thing, but it sure came in handy from time to time. Not to mention the benefits of having a legitimate artificer around, he was worth trying out.
Shores hurriedly ran off again, straight out of the forge and his footsteps grew distant once he rounded the hall.
“That guy’s somethin’ else.” Jimbo said after the silence hung for a few minutes. “Is the rest of your stuff good?”
“Seem fine to me.” It was disappointing at first because she thought he acquired white gold as well, but apparently the heist was already a given. Cira picked up a jar of gray powder—rinspar was a common, soft ore that smiths ground into a powder which helped metal components bond.
Blessed silver was the easiest one on the list, but she used all of hers up back in Uru. Thankfully, Shores brought a bag full of mismatched holy relics she intended to melt down. In perfect Gazen fashion, the blessed silver would serve to harvest all that juicy mana that was just lying around.
“Now that we’re back on track.” Cira continued, “How do you guys feel about breaking into Wick’s treasury tomorrow?”