Bernt held the vial up to his face as he walked, admiring the drop of burning rain inside. It wasn’t just the bit of burning liquid he’d expected. No, it formed a sort of smoky mist that swirled lazily inside the container for a few seconds, then condensed into a single, gravity-defying golden droplet that hung there for a moment before bursting into brilliant flame. When the light dimmed, it left nothing but swirling mist behind, ready to begin the cycle again.
At that moment, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. On a rational level, he knew it wasn’t that valuable of an alchemical material. But to finally be holding it in his hand like this after being stymied again and again felt like an incredible achievement.
He was so distracted he didn’t even realize Jori was at the Underkeepers’ headquarters until he walked inside and found her standing on a chair, talking excitedly to Ed.
She was clutching a sheaf of papers, practically gushing with a mixture of pride, relief and gratitude.
“Bernt!” she called out as he came in, waving the papers above her head with a rustling sound. “I have the papers! The Great Ones signed them! Not just Ed, both of them!”
Bernt stopped, surprised. That was good. But… why now? Ed had sounded more suspicious than enthusiastic last night, even if he had clearly been more positively inclined toward Jori since the battle.
“That’s great!” he said, before he turned to Ed. “Thank you—I’m glad we won’t have to look over our shoulders anymore.” Then, trying to sound casual, he added, “Did you find out why the Solicitors offered the guarantorship?”
Ed nodded. “I did. Iri and I went and had a talk with that Radast guy. It was sort of what we thought—he’s playing games. But… it wasn’t anything too nefarious. Not for a warlock, I mean. Turns out we’re doing him a favor with this, and we’re going to get a little something extra for our trouble. Nothing for you to worry about just yet. Tell me what happened with the Alchemists’ Guild.”
Bernt took a seat and started talking, relating the conversation as best he could remember. At the end, he brought out the vial and held it up for Ed to see.
“She said they would send someone by the office with payment and to pick up the castrum root within the hour.”
“That’s good,” Ed said, looking at the vial of burning rain with a raised eyebrow. “That was quick thinking at the end there. It wasn’t perfect, but you let her feel like she was getting the better of you without looking like you were running off with your tail between your legs. It’s good work, considering that it’s your first time doing this kind of thing. I’ll be taking the price of that reagent out of your pay, though. You negotiated for it on my behalf, after all.”
That was better than fair. Bernt smiled and his chest swelled with pride. “And now I can finally attempt my first investiture!”
“And it’s about time,” Ed said seriously. “You ready?”
“Uh… now?” Bernt froze. He’d meant to review the procedure again from the book before attempting it at home tonight. “I know how… but I was going to—” Ed raised a hand to cut him off.
“You should just do it now, assuming that you’ve looked over the procedure for the droplet. You don’t have time to wait around—life comes at you fast. And you’re going down into the dungeon tomorrow, general’s order,” he said, tone brooking no argument. “The investment process isn’t easy, but it’s not complicated either—not your first investiture, anyway. And this way I can keep an eye on you and stop you if you screw it up before you get too far into it.”
Bernt swallowed and glanced over at Jori. She was leaning forward eagerly, staring at the vial lighting up with incandescent flame.
It was as good a time as any, he supposed. Nobody else was here to distract him, and there was more room to work with in here than at home. Not that he needed a lot of room… but still.
“Do you have a bit of chalk?” Ed tossed a stick toward him before he even finished the question, and Bernt twisted to catch it with his one free hand.
Bending down, he slowly drew out the same rune circle he’d used to analyze Jori’s blood a few days before. This time, though, he was far more careful. It probably wouldn’t make a difference—but this wasn’t the sort of thing you cut corners on. Ed watched in total silence, letting him work. Jori, for her part, seemed to be carefully reading the contract Ed and Iriala had signed for her. Bernt didn’t let it distract him, focusing exclusively on the task in front of him.
Finishing the circle, Bernt held out the vial, waiting for the vapor inside it to condense back into its liquid form. He didn’t know what would happen if he poured it out at the wrong moment.
When the time came, he lifted the glass stopper and flipped the container upside down. The droplet floated inside for a moment, and Bernt worried it wouldn’t come out. How had they put it in there in the first place?
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Just then, the droplet burst into flame and fell straight down into the circle, where it rapidly unraveled into a complex, three-dimensional pattern of mana flows. Bernt examined the pattern, trying to find a natural “beginning” to the spellform. It didn’t matter where he started—as long as the spot made sense to him. He found the ignition rune, what he considered the heart of any fire spell, and focused on the top left point, where he would begin the first stroke if he were drawing it out.
Then he reached out a hand and pushed his own spirit. In actuality, he was moving mana around, just as he did when he cast a spell. But instead of channeling it out of his spirit and shaping it into a spellform, he just… pushed on it. The result was a thread of silvery light that emerged from his finger.
Now came the hard part. Concentrating, he split that thread down its length and, holding one steady, started threading one half into the spellform suspended over the rune circle. Of course, it wasn’t quite that simple. The mana of the burning rain wouldn’t interact with his spirit until he allowed it to—and he needed to avoid doing that until he’d shaped his spirit to match the spellform perfectly.
Blocking out everything else, Bernt pushed more mana into that thread, carefully guiding and shaping it as it grew through familiar runes, unfamiliar symbols and seemingly random loops and patterns. It took nearly twenty minutes of intense concentration, and sweat was beading on his forehead by the time he finished. When the thread emerged from the spellform again, he connected the thread to the second one, which he’d been holding still, and formed a loop that led back into the rest of his spirit.
A cramp was forming in the back of his neck now, but he did his best to ignore it. There was still one more step to go. Being careful not to mess up any of the smaller patterns, Bernt began to tweak the overall shape of the spellform according to the instructions for the architecture he was pursuing. For now, this wouldn’t actually do anything—but this shape would ultimately allow him to properly attach the second and third investitures and form a proper augmentation. Finally, he looked up.
“Ed?” he said, and the archmage stepped forward, examining his work. He moved around it in a circle, examining it from different angles until, what felt like an eternity later, he nodded.
“You’ve got it. Go ahead.”
Taking a slow breath, Bernt did something he’d never, ever done in his life. He opened his spirit to foreign influence with an effort of will, and then reached out and smudged one of the runes in the circle.
The spellform tried to collapse back into its original form, but it was stopped by his thread of spirit. He felt an uncomfortable pressure and nearly panicked before he remembered what to do. With another simple effort of will, he made the still mana inside his spirit spin. It began to flow through the thread and the entire spellform. Within seconds, his spirit absorbed the original substance of the burning rain, leaving only his own spirit in the shape of its spellform.
“There it is!” Ed said. “You can relax, that’s it.”
Bernt did, releasing his spirit and allowing it to pull back into him. The spellform didn’t unravel, but he could see it shrink down and somehow fold as it snapped into his body. How strange.
“Congratulations!” Ed clapped him on the back, smiling broadly. “You can add a stripe to your robes if you want.”
Bernt smiled back uncertainly, rubbing at his still-twitching neck. He’d never seen Ed smile before. Not like this, anyway. It was disconcerting. Not bad or anything, just… not normal.
“Go on, try it out!” the archmage said. His expression returned to something more neutral, but still far from his customary scowl.
“I’m… not sure how. Do I just run mana through the spellform in my spirit before casting a normal spell?”
That wasn’t quite true. Bernt had been taught exactly how it worked—there were diagrams and everything. But… well, the explanation he’d gotten at the academy didn’t match up with what it felt like.
“Do I just run mana through the spellform in my spirit before casting a normal spell?” he asked. That was what he’d been taught, but he felt his mana running through the spellform now, so how was he supposed to activate it?
Ed shook his head. “That’s sort of how it works, I guess. But you don’t need to consciously do any of that. You should make a habit of always keeping your mana in motion. When you have more investitures and entire augmentations, you’ll have to be mindful of where in your network you draw mana for different spells. Right now, anywhere will do.”
Nodding, Bernt held up his hand and sketched a pattern in the air to cast his torch spell. He wanted to do it without his focus for now—just to make sure it wasn’t influencing the spell.
Unlike the usual bright flame, a liquid-looking orb of roiling flames formed over his right shoulder. It was very bright and the light was steadier than his old torch spell. Incredible!
“Wow!” he said. “I wonder what it did to my fireball.” Or his fire dart? Bernt itched to start experimenting, but… he was at work right now.
“Thanks for your help,” he said. He really did owe Ed for this—he’d have to find a way to pay him back. The old man had done both him and Jori a very big favor today. “So, should I get going on my rounds?”
Maybe he could sneak in a bit of practice in the sewers. Probably not, though. There were still soldiers running around down there.
Ed snorted. “No, you’re not working today. You should go outside the city and find a nice, barren patch of dirt to practice on. You’ll need to work out how not to use that investiture. You won’t be able to cast any normal cantrips without setting them on fire until you do, and you’ll be practically useless as a mage until then.”
Bernt carefully did not smile in excitement. “Of course. I’ll get right on it.”
He turned toward the door, signaling Jori to come along through their familiar bond. She hopped down from the chair to follow, but Ed stopped her.
“No, not you. You’re going to work with Dayle down at the main breach today—I want you to spend a little time working with all of the Underkeepers before we get our new… support from the Solicitors. It’s part of the deal.”