It was late by the time Bernt made it back to the Undercity – the evening rush on the market was already well underway. He’d managed to learn a few things, though he still wasn’t sure about what to do about his next investiture. It was frustrating, but at least the day hadn’t been a total loss.
It had taken some fast talking, but he had eventually managed to convince Hallan that he wasn’t going to attempt to bond an elemental. That settled, Hallan let him check out a copy of an ancient imperial researcher’s treatise on familiar bonds, including notes and even a few variations on the usual bonding spell.
Bernt had already taken a look at it back at the library, and he was sure he could figure out a way to temporarily strengthen the connection. Assuming that worked, he might finally be able to communicate with Jori again. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t really a substitute for having her back, but he hated relying on the Solicitors for updates – not least because they never actually told him anything. That was fine, he didn't need them.
Bernt wanted nothing more than to go straight home to work on it, but he still had another appointment to get to today. He and Nirlig had talked Torvald into meeting them after work today to update them on what he learned in his meeting with the count.
Rumors had been running rampant around the city about the fall of Loamfurth, but nobody really knew anything concrete yet. The priestess in the break room last night had practically confirmed that it was Nuros and his Duergar, back for another round. His army had been defeated and Jori had literally burned him to ash, yet he managed to level another city less than two weeks later.
Bernt tried to picture it, but he struggled to grasp the scale of the catastrophe, even having seen what happened here in Halfbridge. It was too big, too devastating to make sense of. What did it mean? Could the Duergar do the same to Walport, up on the northern coast? Did they have other armies sitting under Yetin’s Harbor and Teres, waiting for their demonic general to appear? And would they come back here?
He caught sight of his two coworkers sitting at a small table in front of an alehouse and waved as he joined them. Torvald wouldn’t have answers to these questions, of course, but any news was welcome at a time like this.
“Hey, you made it!” Nirlig said cheerfully, raising his mug in greeting. Torvald nodded at him, his expression much more serious.
Bernt waved to a goblin barman as he sat down and ordered a pint and something to eat. He’d forgotten to get lunch, and his stomach growled hungrily at the smells that drifted out from the kitchen.
“Alright, he’s here. Are you going to tell us what happened, now?” Nirlig asked Torvald impatiently. “I’ve got people in Loamfurth, you know. My cousin lives there!”
“Well, you better hope he got out,” Torvald said gravely. “It sounds pretty much like the worst-case scenario. The city’s been destroyed. My father told me the refugees should start reaching us in a few days, maybe two or three, depending on how quickly they’re moving. That’s not even what the meeting was about, though. Not really." He let out a slow breath, choosing his words. "They want to coordinate an international response to the Duergar – the temples, I mean. They want to set up this big conclave at the Sacral Peaks to revive the Invigilation. I'm going.”
Bernt frowned in confusion. “Can they do that? I mean, don't they just stand on street corners and preach about the dangers of summoning demons nowadays?”
Torvald shrugged and nodded. “Yeah. No one ever made them stop hunting rogue warlocks, the temples just stopped actively pursuing them after the Solicitors and their sister organizations in Madzhur and Kallrix were set up and began policing their own. Their mandate is totally intact across the entire continent, legally speaking. And right after the fall of the empire, the Invigilation did coordinate large-scale wars against powerful warlocks who tried to set up their own kingdoms, though they were just “The Temples” back then. The pretentious name came later, when everything was codified in treaties – ”
“Alright, yes, fine. We can do the history lesson later,” Nirlig interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “What happened at the meeting?”
As Torvald recounted what he’d heard, Bernt tried to grasp the implications of what he was saying. The Invigilation was trying to seize some kind of political power here, right? It had to be. If it actually worked, they might gain control of the combined military assets of multiple countries. Or influence, at least. That would change things – everything, maybe. The gods didn’t normally get involved in human politics like this.
Bernt couldn't begin to guess what this meant, but it probably wasn’t good. Not for regular people who just wanted to mind their own business. On the other hand, Beseri cities were being burned down by a mad demon lord and his Duergar armies. The likes of general Arice and the wealthy nobles in Teres certainly weren’t going to fix it. So, maybe they were just doing what was needed. Who was he to say?
“So, wait,” Nirlig said as Torvald finished his explanation. “You're saying you need an escort to go with you to the Sacral Peaks, and it just has to be someone who works for the government?” He grinned excitedly. “Can I come? It sounds amazing – I’ve always wanted to travel!”
Torvald gave a pained smile. “Ah… I don’t think that’s a good idea. The count is ultimately the one who selects the legitimator. The temple district might… uh… take issue with him selecting a pagan. I don’t think he’s going to want that.”
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Nirlig’s grin morphed into a bitter frown and he took a swig of his ale. “A goblin, you mean.”
“Yes,” Torvald confirmed. “Not just that, but yeah. Sorry. It’s politics.” He looked over at Bernt, meeting his eyes. “Actually, I was going to ask you.”
“What?” Bernt choked on his ale in surprise and coughed. “Torvald, are you crazy? Everybody thinks I’m a warlock! If the count won’t take Nirlig, what do you think they’ll say about me?”
Torvald waved Bernt’s protests aside. “They won’t say anything. I don’t think you realize what kind of backing you have. You’re a member of the Mages’ Guild, and pretty much everyone has heard about how you burned demons to cinders in the battle down here. Besides, no demon, no infernal powers, no warlock.”
“That’s not how it works!” Bernt protested. “Everybody knew about Jori, not to mention her killing the Duergar general!”
“Doesn’t matter,” Torvald insisted. “My mom always says individual facts aren’t really that important, it’s about your image. It’s why she hates politics so much. But it’s working in your favor in this case. Jori is very popular in this town right now, and she was fighting the bad guys. Hardly like a demon at all. You’re not associated with any noble families and frankly, you’re a local war hero. The count will give you the job if we nudge him in the right direction. Specifically, he will if my mother does the nudging.”
“I don’t know, man,” Bernt said unenthusiastically. “It’s been a hard couple of months here and there’s no telling how long I’d be gone. Besides, I really need to work on my development as a wizard – I’m in a pretty difficult position right now.”
He needed the guild library for his research, and Pollock’s expertise to find the right way forward. Besides, what if Jori and Ed came back while he was gone? He wanted to be there for that.
“Are you crazy?” Nirlig blurted incredulously. “What do you need more magic for? You burned hundreds of Duergar with a single spell. Listen to yourself! You could get paid to travel. Who wouldn’t take that job?”
Torvald leaned forward in his chair. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but think about it, please. We won’t be out in the wilderness the whole time – we’d be traveling through a lot of towns and a few cities. Fergefield and Goldwater are big enough to have their own guild branches. Their libraries probably have texts you can’t find here. After we’re done at the Sacral Peaks, we could even visit Teres and check in on Josie!”
That… well, that didn’t sound too bad. Put that way, it did sound crazy to refuse. A direct appointment from the count probably was probably well paid, too. Still, it was a big decision to make at the drop of a hat. He needed to think this through.
“I’ll think about it,” Bernt allowed. Being able to visit the other guilds really might be worth it. Traveling clear across the country was expensive, and he doubted he was going to get a lot of opportunities to do it without losing his job, never mind getting paid for it.
Besides, there was something else he’d just remembered. The Sacral Peaks were right next to the Phoenix Reaches.
***
When he got home, Bernt pulled the books he’d checked out from the library out of his bag and stacked them on his stone desk, putting the one on familiar bonds to the side for later. One of these had a map in it, though he couldn’t remember which one. He started flipping through them and got almost halfway through his stack before he remembered where he’d seen it.
Cursing himself, he rose and grabbed the oddly proportioned book on elemental summoning off his shelf. There, in the back cover was a map of the continent, with various confluence locations marked. The Phoenix Reaches were marked with an ignition rune and right there, in mountains directly on its northwestern edge, lay the Sacral Peaks. The holy site was famously inaccessible. It had to be, to serve as a refuge during the darkest days of the Madurian Empire.
That wasn’t what Bernt was interested in, though. What mattered was whether he could access the Phoenix Reaches from there. If he could, then he might be able to get his hands on exotic pyromancy materials, or even try his hand at elemental summoning. It should work.
Idly, Bernt flipped backward through the book, going over the various types of elemental creatures. While summoned elementals were powerful, they all came with a serious drawback – they couldn’t be summoned from just anywhere, and they were difficult to control. They instinctively hated the chaotic energies of the material plane, and sought to return to the purity of their own element. Sooner or later – usually sooner – an elemental would slip its leash and return to its home plane. At least, that was what the book said.
If he wanted to experiment on elementals, he needed to start small. Remembering one particularly boring entry, Bernt looked up the first elemental listed in the Fire section.
Lesser Flame Sprite: The simplest type of fire elemental, this semi-sentient flame responds easily to the will of its summoner and can sustain itself through the combustion of mundane materials. While not very powerful, its simple upkeep makes it an ideal long-term tool for summoners operating far from an appropriate summoning location.
It was made entirely of flame – it didn’t really have a body… what would happen if he put one into a rune circle for analysis? What was it, really? Was it a spirit in the same sense as what goblin shamans interacted with, or was it more like a natural creature with its own mana network? Or was it more like a magical material in its own right? One that had gained its own rudimentary intelligence?
Questions whirled in Bernt’s head as he considered the possibilities, even as he realized that he’d made a decision. Torvald hadn’t been wrong about visiting other guild libraries, and he would need to talk to Pollock to clarify exactly what to focus on and what kinds of experiments to run. But regardless of the details, this was something he really couldn’t ignore. He might never get another opportunity to access the Phoenix Reaches.
Besides, traveling with Torvald could be good for him. Ruzinians didn’t associate with rogue warlocks and evildoers – they destroyed them. The paladin’s renown was already spreading since his explosive first battle, and this conclave wouldn’t exactly make people forget about him. Being Torvald’s official legitimator could help him protect Jori by association, whenever they managed to get her home.
He’d wanted to do something to help, anything that didn’t involve just sitting on his hands and hoping Josie saved the day with her legal battle in Teres. Well, here was something. It wasn’t a solution in itself, of course, but it was a step in the right direction.