Bernt’s knees ached as he triple-checked the chalk markings on the stone behind his desk. It was already late in the evening – he'd spent most of the day poring over Iriala's history book. From the reading material alone, he could already tell that Iriala was going to be a difficult task master. The book provided an accounting of many disparate events that felt disconnected, though Bernt was sure that wasn't the case.
The text casually referred to other events, rulers, sects and traditions that he'd never heard of. The stupid book was written for scholars, not someone like him. He didn't have the proper context to understand the larger picture that the book was trying to convey. It was frustrating, and he couldn't help but feel like Iriala had told him to start there on purpose. She was probably trying to nudge him into doing his own additional research at the library. That, or she just wanted to put him in his place. Tomorrow, he'd try some of the other books – maybe they'd make more sense. But there was no way he’d go home to sleep before he tested this.
The rune circle in front of him wasn’t his own design – he’d copied it from a book – but that didn’t mean he could afford to be sloppy.
Familiar bonds didn’t create a direct connection between the caster and the familiar the way most people imagined. There was no mutual mind-linking or control spell at work, no magical tether. Conceptually, they were much simpler than that.
Souls were loud, magically speaking. They sent echoes of themselves vibrating through the ambient mana all around. Familiar bonds took advantage of that by keying the spirit of the caster to resonate with that of the intended familiar. From there, the link was mutual and entirely passive. Both would, to an extent, feel and sense the same things as their familiar, though obviously much less intensely.
In the mortal world, the intensity of the transmission was largely dependent on proximity. In the hells… well, the fact that Bernt could still sense Jori at all was dumbfounding. He had no idea what to make of it, but at least it was working in his favor, for now. He had a connection, so he didn’t need to understand everything to make it work for him.
The circle in front of him was designed to read the resonant frequency of his own spirit, and then to collect and amplify all similar frequencies back at him. To try it, though, he had to get into the circle and open his spirit to influence from the circle. Even relatively simple rune circles weren’t toys – if he’d messed up any of the markings, all kinds of terrible things could happen to him. Hence, why he was triple checking the entire thing.
He should have gone to visit Therion and told him about the bond. Doing this alone was stupid. Besides, the other mage had a broader education than Bernt did and might have some valuable input. But… he didn’t want to wait anymore. And the circle was perfect, he was sure of it.
Taking a deep breath Bernt stepped forward into the circle and closed his eyes, concentrating on his connection to Jori.
Rushing water filled his senses. Not real water, of course – it was the bond as it filled his mind with unintelligible noise. It was louder, for lack of a better description, but no clearer than before. He still couldn’t discern anything specific from it – just that Jori was alive and feeling something that might have been a sense of satisfaction. Even that, though, was more of an intuitive guess than anything else. It was too… fuzzy.
Letting out a breath, Bernt stepped out of the circle again. It sort of worked, in the sense that it amplified the bond, but it didn’t do anything to clarify what he was getting from it. He would have to try something else. That meant the time for guesswork was over. He needed to talk to someone who knew more about familiar bonds – and probably planar theory. Someone who wasn’t a warlock.
Only one name came to mind, but could he trust him with this? He’d have to think about it.
***
Bernt spent the next morning skimming through the primers on the four gods who sponsored the Invigilation. He’d never bothered much with religion, outside the occasional offering at the Temple of Aedina before a big test day at the Academy. It was traditional for students to bring the goddess of knowledge and learning symbols of their ignorance, followed later with proof of their intellectual growth.
Idly, Bernt wondered if he should submit a copy of his banefire spell to the temple. He might get a minor blessing out of it. But it wouldn’t work if he went there to procrastinate having to read all this crap.
Of course, Bernt already knew who the major gods were – at least those worshiped by humans. But that didn’t mean he’d bothered to study theology or to memorize all their ancient mythology. Gods were extremely dangerous and sometimes capricious, but none of them would go after a normal person who was just minding their own business. That had always suited Bernt just fine.
The texts were easier to follow than the history text the day before, but they were terribly dry, plainly explaining the role of each god and their relationships to all the other gods, various peoples, places and even abstract concepts. Balarian, for example, was the patron of trade and the winds, and was most highly honored in Illuria. The text went on and on about the use of his priests on trading vessels in the Illurian Sea, his island temples, and a string of wars against the merpeople where he was supposed to have played a pivotal role.
Noruk was most closely associated with Madzhur and Eyeli with Besermark, and by the sound of it, each of them had spawned enough history and lore to fill a library on their own.
The only thing that truly surprised Bernt was that Kallrix, despite being a maritime power like Illuria, apparently revered Ruzinia above all others. She was a young goddess, relatively speaking, only dating back to the early Imperial Age, where she apparently opposed the spread of human civilization – at least, according to imperial records.
The early Madurian Empire had pressed ever southward from Mahat’Ur, driving orcs, humans and trolls down into the coastal lowlands that had, until that point, been occupied by small warring tribes of seafaring goblins. That should have resulted in another chaotic war, but against all expectations, the goblins didn’t fight. They welcomed the foreigners with open arms, citing the will of their “great spirit”, which they called Rixin. According to the temple itself, this was the first direct written reference to Ruzinia.
The result was the first Kallrixian Republic, which would go on to resist Madurian expansion for over a century before its fall. Once it did, worship of the goddess spread throughout the empire, carried on a tide of desperate refugees as they fled from their ravaged homeland.
Ruzinia was considered a minor goddess, despite her reputation for raising great heroes in times of need – Bernt had never considered that she might be a bigger deal elsewhere. More surprisingly, though, this implied something potentially curious about the natural spirits that goblins worshiped. Were they all just minor deities of some kind? If that was true, where was the line between a shaman and a priest?
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
The priests he knew of mostly treated goblins and other shamanistic peoples as lesser heathens. But what was the difference, really? And why did no one ever talk about it? Bernt couldn’t imagine that the temples themselves wouldn’t have the answer. He would have to ask Torvald about it when he got a chance.
Closing the book, Bernt got up and began to make his way down the hallway to the stairs. He was starving and it was well past lunch time. But first, he had another stop to make. He needed help, and he wasn’t going to get anywhere if he didn’t take any risks. It was time to talk to Hallan.
***
The librarian who opened the door was not Hallan, but rather an older woman who looked pointedly down her nose at him with narrowed eyes when she opened the door. Also unlike his former classmate, she asked him to “sign in” using a broad, runed cylinder of some kind, which he had to submit a sample of his mana to.
Bernt carefully made sure to use his left hand, so as not to destroy the heavily enchanted object.
Nothing happened, and the woman looked at him with a sour face.
“All set.” she said curtly. “Might I help you find something?”
Bernt cleared his throat. “Yes, actually. Do you know where I can find Hallan?”
She grunted and waved him off. “Try the medical texts. He was giving a consultation the last I saw.”
Bernt made his way down the stacks, looking for the appropriate section. They weren’t clearly labeled as far as Bernt could see. Instead, each row was marked with a number, and smaller sections in each row were marked with runes. He assumed there was more to their organizational system, but from what he could see it was all very unclear.
Fortunately, he wasn’t looking for a book, so he just glanced down each row as he went.
He’d almost made it to the tablet library when he finally found someone – but it wasn’t Hallan. Therion held a small stack of books in one arm as he awkwardly flipped through the one on top. He looked up at Bernt’s approach and nodded a greeting.
“Hey Bernt! Doing some reading?”
“Yeah,” Bernt replied, “something like that. How’s your dad?” He'd been meaning to go and check on Therion again since the battle, but he hadn't had time. He felt a little guilty for it now.
“Better," Terion said. "He’s eating on his own, but he still won’t talk. I’m looking for possible therapies that might help. There’s really a lot more here than I expected.”
“That’s great! Good to hear. I didn’t realize they even had that kind of information here.” Bernt looked at the books around him. A treatise on chronic fatigue, a text on the causes of hallucinations, an exhaustive compilation of spells for first aid – all medical texts. “I hope he’s back on his feet soon. The Adventurer’s Guild is probably lost without him.”
Therion chuckled half-heartedly. “Probably. The Rangers certainly aren’t the same. A few of them come to check on him every couple of days.”
“That’s good, I’m sure seeing people he knows has got to help.” Bernt paused awkwardly, unsure of what to say. “Uh, I actually came looking for Hallan. Did you know he works here? The librarian up front told me he was doing a consultation in the medical section.”
“Yeah, sure.” Therion said, sounding relieved at the change of topic. “He’s helped me out a few times. I don’t know where he wandered off to, but he’ll be around here somewhere. What do you need him for?”
Just as he asked, Bernt caught sight of the librarian as he turned down the stack and headed toward them. He waved when he saw them and grinned.
“Bernt! What’s going on?”
“I wanted to see if you know anything about planar theory,” Bernt said, deciding not to dance around the issue. “It’s about that thing with the familiar bonds I was looking into.”
Hallan stared at him, suddenly looking alarmed. “You didn’t! No, no you couldn’t. What’s going on? You better not be doing what it sounds like you’re doing!”
“No, I’m not trying to summon and bond an elemental.” Bernt said patiently. “I already have a familiar, and she’s trapped on another plane, but the bond didn’t break.”
“She? Okay, so, not an elemental, then.” Hallan threw a glance at Therion, who gave him mischievous grin that reminded Bernt eerily of his father, Garius.
He looked back at Bernt suspiciously. “What plane?”
***
“You bonded a demon?” Hallan said incredulously. Bernt had pulled his friends off into one of the small reading rooms, away from potential prying ears, explaining to Hallan about Jori as he went. “Are you completely insane?”
“It’s fine!” Bernt protested, trying not to sound too defensive. “Honestly, I don’t know what all the fuss is about. She’s more intelligent than an animal, friendly, and she can throw balls of fire. What’s not to like?”
“Maybe that linking your mind to a demon could easily drive you insane in minutes?” Hallan hissed. “Do you have any idea how alien an extraplanar entity’s mind can be?”
“I don’t know,” Therion interjected. “I thought she was nice. She really saved our asses in the dungeon. Besides, she’s a hero! Haven’t you heard?”
Hallan’s mouth dropped open a bit, and his gaze flicked from Therion back to Bernt. They could practically see the gears turn in Hallan’s brain as he realized exactly which demon they were talking about.
“Look, I know demons are dangerous.” Bernt explained. “But Jori… well, she was pretty much like a cat when I found her. Or, what I imagine a cat’s mind would be like. I imagine it helps to bond them early. The point is, I want to reestablish communication with her. She’s trapped in the hells, and she’s pretty much reliant on the Solicitors for all outside contact. I don’t like that, and I think I should be able to fix it at least that last bit, assuming that I can figure out exactly what the problem is.”
“Wait, hold on.” Hallan said, holding up both hands. “Doesn’t this make you a warlock, at least in every practical sense? How are you even a guild member? And wouldn’t the Solicitors take issue with something like this?”
“I have an arrangement with all the relevant parties. You’re welcome to ask archmage Iriala about it. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave out the part about the familiar bond still working, though. I’d like to keep that quiet if I can. I definitely don’t want it getting back to the Solicitors, assuming they don’t already know.”
“Yeah… it is strange that it’s still working.” Hallan conceded, scratching at his head. “Familiar bonds are spatial, but you’re not in the same space. At least not in the conventional sense of the word. There shouldn’t really be any way for you to still sense her.”
And just like that, Bernt knew he’d won him over. He’d piqued the librarian’s curiosity, and he knew the man well enough to know he would have to scratch that itch.
“I tried simple amplification, and that doesn’t work. I need to figure out how the connection is reaching me in the mortal world. I know how the elemental planes connect, but I think the hells are fundamentally different. There aren’t any hell confluences, so what is the connection?”
Hallan gave him a strange look, but it was Therion who answered.
“Souls transit freely into the hells, right? Do you really need a tangible connection for that? I mean, familiar bonds are transmitted through ambient mana. As long as there’s mana between here and where Jori is, your connection should work, right?”
Bernt blinked. That was a good point.
“So… the better question might be why it’s so constant, now. The connection doesn’t get weaker depending on where I go anymore, and it’s still pretty strong – just very indistinct.” Bernt paused and fixed his gaze on Hallan. “Want to help me figure it out?”
Hallan looked conflicted for a moment and made a frustrated noise, but then he nodded. “Fine, I’ll help. But you owe me for this. Honestly – bonding a demon!”