“It should come as no surprise to any within this room that this ritual was doomed from the beginning.” A thunderous voice boomed, one that was promptly isolated and traced by the drone to that of a familiar white-robed dean. Everything about the elf, from the way he stood to his tone of voice, was saturated with an air of terse authority which was now reinforced with a dismissive and snide passive aggressiveness.
“I would tread the subject matter which you broach very carefully, Professor Astur.” The unmistakable monotone of the black-robed Mal’tory responded in kind. “Self-fulfilling prophecies are unbecoming of figures of authority such as yourself. You of all people should know, that should failure arise from this ritual, and should the proper channels be informed, that any and all verbiage that can be construed as seditious will be investigated.” The man stepped forward, walking around the devastated landscape that was quickly being reassembled back into its original, undamaged state. “A standard ritual of duplicity, performed by planar-class mages, all graduates of the Academy no less; failing in a manner that hasn’t been seen since the summonings of dawn? Why, if I were to place myself in the shoes of his majesty’s investigator-general, I would place the blame not on faulty mana-pools, or a peculiarity in extraneous circumstances, but on purposeful undermining of Academy ritual-protocols.”
“Just be a man and be out with it, Professor.” An annoyed, elderly female voice entered the fray. The red-robed professor all but pushed herself in front of a frayed and frazzled blue-robed Vanavan who had yet to have cast his hat into the ring. “If you’re going to be throwing around accusations then be blunt with what is being accused. Will it be sabotage? Or will it be sedition against the crown? Perhaps today we shall sprinkle in a dash of obstruction of protocol and decorum into the mix? Don’t beat around the bush, you quill-pushing, lazy, ignorant, taint-ridden, mouthpiece!”
Instead of the expected return of vitriol, Mal’tory simply stood firm, cold, and calm, his face betraying only the slightest hints of annoyance to the vitriolic finger-pointing. “I will respond out of respect for your years of service, Professor, and indeed, out of the fact that I am still to this day your pupil.” That cold calm collectedness however vanished for a split second, if only to reinforce the power dynamics in the room. “With your advanced age, I believe it wouldn’t be my place to remind you not to conflate my respect for your person, with my respect for your station. So please. Do help me retain that respect for your person, by ensuring that I do not lose my respect for your station, Professor Belnor.”
A brief standoff was had between the two professors, which was promptly broken by the frayed Vanavan who was still reeking of nervousness and anxiety. His facial expressions all but locked in a permanent haze of indecision.
“Professors, please. Let us place the failures of the ritual behind us and focus on what truly is at stake. The safety of those within the castle grounds. What we really must worry about now is how best to deal with this… this runaway null.” Vanavan interjected, as he attempted to veer the conversation away from the heated personal attacks and back towards whatever the whole situation was about in the first place.
“Aye, it will be difficult.” The red-robed professor responded with an exasperated sigh, turning towards Vanavan and purposefully allowing Mal’tory’s ultimatum to bounce right off of her. “The null’s lacking in a mana-field, similar to the girl. The soulpath map will be useless, and we can’t have the gargoyles roaming the halls lest we raise further suspicion and incite panic. This is not even putting into consideration the fact that doing so will be a violation of the unspoken truce under the precedence set by the grace period. A precedent which I believe none of us here wishes to change, not when we are now staring down the face of not one, but two unknowns.”
“The girl is not our primary concern, not right now at the very least.” The dean proclaimed, as his eyes shifted towards that of the plinth, and the bear-like figure, still completely still and lifeless in the corner of the room. “Our primary concern should be the recapture of this null, and its immediate destruction before the situation unravels even further than it already has.”
A collective murmur of agreement echoed throughout the room at that.
“Mal’tory.” The Dean continued. “Since it was your department’s decree that the ritual of duplicity be enacted, it falls on your head to clean up your untended mess.”
Another stare-off quickly ensued between Mal’tory and the dean, but this time, it was clear whose argument had won out as Mal’tory gave the shortest of bows in acquiescence; only to land that sharp gaze on a figure that stood just in front of the drone’s field of view.
“I think our apprentice has certainly seen her fair share of how Academy interdepartmental relations are handled.” Mal’tory announced in that signature monotone, this time with a clear undertone of sarcastic intent.
The Dean quickly interjected as he turned his attention to the apprentice in question, his voice shifting from one of absolute authority to one of a more fatherly, patronizing tone. “Step forward, Larial, you have not barged into a conversation you were not privy to. You will, after all, be standing where I stand in due course. It is necessary for you to see it all, every angle of the Academy, from its greatest successes to crises such as this. Indeed, it is not enough to merely be an observer, but to actively partake in such critical junctions.”
“The Apprentice does need to complete her prerequisite experience criterion in Crisis Mitigation, this would be a perfect time for her to gain some real world experience.” Mal’tory offered.
“With a null?! Absolutely not!” The red robed professor quickly shot back, taking a few steps closer towards Mal’tory as she seethed.
“How long should we shelter our own before they one day take our places? Would you wish for an individual with no experience in the handling of critical crises to stand by your side as you face off with another Unbidden? Or perhaps a mass-null crisis? Or a collapse of the book of souls? Could you see yourself on that day, amidst a crowd of inexperienced newbloods, and feel confident in your chances of survival, let alone successes?” Mal’tory shot back with little in the way of emotion, speaking as if he was pulling the situation from the pages of a history book rather than straight out of his own ass.
It was at this point that Vanavan found it in him to step up to the plate once more. “Professor, please, the Academy isn’t an institution preparing for war-”
Only to be shot down by Mal’tory before he could even make his point.
“But it is an institution that must be ready for crises. The null situation we face is barely considered a crisis in the grander scheme of things. If you aren’t ready to allow your apprentices to face such a threat, then I fear for the threats that we will inevitably face in the coming years.” Mal’tory interjected, but this time, there was something distinctly different about his tone of voice. It was one of the few, if not the first instance where he was actually being genuine. There was a look in his eyes that didn’t quite match that same glassy, aloof attitude he always seemed to have.
There was something there that he wasn’t telling the rest of the faculty.
This fact was not lost on the dean who had maintained careful eye contact with the black-robed professor, only to cut it off, as if signaling that the topic wasn’t worth pursuing. At least not right now.
Belnor, however, was clearly adamant on pushing forward her warnings. “Professor Astur, please. You know for a fact what a null is capable of, and you understand it will stop at nothing to accomplish its twisted aims.” She pleaded with the dean, who remained completely silent on the matter. “Professor, please… it will stop at nothing to achieve what we failed to create.”
These pleas fell on deaf ears however as the dean simply gave a nod of approval to Mal’tory, who relayed his orders to the apprentice without hesitation.
“Apprentice.” The man spoke, eliciting an immediate response in the form of the elf taking a knee in a display of respect.
“What will you have me do, Professor?” Larial spoke with her head bowed low.
“You are tasked with tracking down the whereabouts of Emma Booker’s null. You will be given limited authority over the gargoyles of the halls and their sight for the duration of this assignment. In addition, should you believe yourself to be capable, you are to attempt to use all force necessary to neutralize the threat posed by the null. Doing so will grant you a Privy Seal commendation on this semester’s final report.” Mal’tory laid out each and every word with his signature inflection of authority. One that was in equal measures dismissive, yet overbearing.
Belnor had opened her mouth in protest once again, getting so far as to let the first few huffs of indignant breaths out, only to be held back by Vanavan as he gripped her shoulder tight.
“I accept this assignment humbly, Professor.” The apprentice responded, not once lifting her head up to face the man.
“Then so be it. I expect an in-person update this evening. Do not disappoint us.” Mal’tory concluded, waving the apprentice away as the group of professors now moved towards the bear in the far corner of the room.
The footage cut off there, with the drone making a beeline for the door following the apprentice’s leave.
With that entire exchange having concluded, I leaned back deeper into the plush couch with a heavy thud, feeling the rough frame of my exoskeleton biting into my joints as I hissed out expletives at the suit’s haptic feedback for not giving me relief when I most needed it.
“There’s… a lot to be unpacked here.” I managed out with an exasperated sigh. “First off, anyone here know what a ritual of duplicity or a null is?” I turned to both Thacea and Thalmin, both of whom responded with varying degrees of the same response: no.
“Alright…” I took another breath, winding back the footage to confirm a suspicion that had been gnawing at me throughout its entire runtime. “That.” I pointed, freezing the image on the bear-like figure with half of its face obscured by a hood, or some sort of cloth. “That broach.” I highlighted, then juxtaposed the drone’s footage to that of the recording of our earlier interactions with the gaggle of nobles, zooming in to Uven in particular. “And these anthropometric parameters.” The footage was interlaced with a grid layout, as the precise measurements of both Uven and the mystery bear in the labs were analyzed, revealing a precise match with the only exception being the mystery bear’s obscured face. “Heavily imply that we’re dealing with Uven having been in two places at once.” I stated in no uncertain terms. “Does Uven have some sort of a twin brother or another member of his family currently serving at the Academy?” I asked plainly.
A brief few moments of silence punctuated this line of questioning, one that I expected a resounding ‘we don’t know’ from either of the two. Thacea, however, clearly had the right idea as she brought out the orientation letter from the previous night, the one that listed out the professors and faculty present within the academy.
I had no idea how vital this piece of intel would be until now, as we both scanned the document line by line, as well as the animated portraits on the parchments, but it was easy to strike out the idea of Uven’s relatives being in the faculty almost immediately.
As there were no bears in any of the portraits present.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“So. I guess we’re left with a pretty big question here.” I rewound the footage, pointing at the timestamps on both the drone’s and my helmetcam’s footage. “Look, the two were recorded barely 10 seconds apart. How the hell was he in two places at once?” I voiced out with distress as any semblance of Earth logic was clearly of no use here.
“A class of illusionary spell which replicates an image of the person in another location? A costuming spell that allows for one to temporarily assume the superficial likeness of another?” Thacea offered, none of which made any sense given there didn’t seem to be a need for it. “Though I don’t see a reason to go through the effort. I apologize Emma, I cannot for the life of me fathom this incongruence in logic.”
“You guys said you didn’t know anything about this duplicity ritual, or whatever the fuck a null was. Maybe the answer is staring us right in the face?” I theorized. “Thacea, you mentioned replicating the likeness of another right? What if that’s what the Uven doppelganger was? And what if this whole null thing is something related to that?” I offered.
“That’s not how illusionary spells work, Emma.” The avian replied bluntly. “They’re transient, and I’ve never once heard the term null being used in the context of any illusionary or light spell.”
I paused, considering the situation as I broached another possibility. “Maybe, just maybe, they’re trying to clone whoever’s bound to the book? That’d explain the whole Uven situation. It’d explain why Mal’tory prefaced the null by saying Emma Booker’s null. Maybe they were trying to clone me from the book? And for some reason, Uven as well?” I offered, basically throwing it all out there as the pair stared back at me with a look of absolute confusion.
“I don’t know what you mean by cloning, Emma.” Thalmin responded simply. “But if you’re implying what I think you’re implying, that being the creation of another version of yourself from a soulbound signature… then I’ve never heard of such a thing.” The mercenary prince confessed.
“Thalmin is right, Emma.” The princess offered. “I understand this is your first exposure to our world, and to the capabilities of magic. It is difficult to gauge what is and isn’t possible, but what you’re describing is one of the aspects of known magic that is simply in the realm of impossibility.”
A silence quickly descended on the room after that, with no one willing to break it. Until finally, Thacea decided to continue where she left off.
“Unless… of course, that it is possible, and we both are simply ignorant of it.” The princess admitted with a sharp chirp. “There is only one place I can think of where we may be able to uncover the truth behind the ritual of duplicity and the true nature of these nulls.” Thacea offered, which certainly caught my full and undivided attention.
“Yeah?”
“The library.” The avian spoke succinctly.
The entire chain of events leading up to this point just outright snapped at this idea, as every fiber of my being refused to believe what I’d just heard. I turned back to Thalmin, who instead of hosting what should have been a look of similar incredulous disbelief had simply shifted to a look of minor doubt, as if the proposal was somehow reasonable enough to even entertain as an option worth exploring.
“Are you serious?” I snapped back.
“Yes.” Thacea replied with a cock of her head, as if unable to grasp just why this was a bad idea.
I let out another sigh as I attempted to grip my forehead, resulting in my hands once again bonking against the glass and composites of my helmet; the armor refusing to let me emote as much as I would’ve liked to.
“Thacea, wouldn’t the library be the last place in the world we should be headed to? It’s literally part of the Academy, and the whole place is under the iron fist of an administration conspiring against us. If we were to waltz in, request a book on the hot topic of the day, wouldn’t that raise a few red flags with the librarian? Or wouldn’t some alarm be raised, notifying the administration that a student just so happens to be interested in an obscure, scarcely known topic, that coincidentally lines up with the current struggles faced by the upper brass?” I offered, not once realizing that perhaps things might have worked differently here.
Earth, the UN, and the entirety of humanity had been spoiled by an age of unbridled access to information. The past 1000 years of human history since the invention of the internet was, without a doubt, a game changer in the mentality of every single generation since its inception. Yet as much as information was freely available, so too was it capable of being flagged by the appropriate authorities. This was a given, at least in my mind, so much so that it never occurred to me that this might have been the point where I finally took a deep dive into fundamental systemic incongruency.
Because after nearly thirty generations of constant exposure to the internet, and by extension twelve generations of exposure to the infosphere, was enough to establish a set of fundamental beliefs so ingrained that it was difficult to really think outside of it.
Part of me realized that was the case as soon as I’d finished laying out my points.
But still.
Wouldn’t it just make sense for a place so embroiled in its political games, to be on top of the information restriction game?
“Those are entirely valid concerns to have, Emma.” Thacea responded with a heavy nod. “And they would be entirely pertinent to our current predicament and directional course, if the library was in fact, an Academy-bound institution.” There was a brief pause where Thacea took the time to establish eye contact with me. Looking right at me through my opaque lenses with those sharp, calculating eyes of hers. It took a second, but I realized what she was doing. She was pausing for dramatic effect. A gotcha moment, that was so out of character that I had to do a double take just as she’d already departed with the rest of the conversation. “Thankfully, that is not the case, and it has never been the case from the inception of The Library, and the Academy. For both were established for vastly different purposes, by two entirely different parties, which to this day, maintain the same agreements set forth by their respective charters.”
I turned back to Thalmin to gauge his reaction, which had remained the same stalwart look of apprehension.
“The princess is right.” The mercenary prince spoke with a heavy sigh. “However, the library is a place of trickery and deceit.” He warned, as he got up and stretched, holding both arms behind his head as he continued to speak his mind. “The princess will have more knowledge on this matter than I do, I admit. However, I am not entirely illiterate on the topic of the Nexus and its deeper lore. The fact of the matter is, the library is an enigma, and a living antithesis to its very existence. Legends speak of a great ivory tower, holding all worldly and magical knowledge. A tower which is supposed to be accessible to all, no matter what their station. Yet was built atop a sheer cliff face, precariously overlooking a waterfall, with the only known passage being a small bridge originating from within the Academy’s grounds. It claims to offer knowledge to all, yet it requires magical accumen to comb its great archives. It claims no allegiance but to the spirit of knowledge, yet it constructs enigmatic rules which serve no one but itself.”
The explanation felt like it was equal measures, a fairy tale being recounted, and a bitter disenfranchised partisan venting his frustrations. It was a strange dichotomy that honestly felt like tonal whiplash, but then again, tonal whiplash was starting to become the norm here rather than the exception.
I craned my head over to face Thacea, as if to gauge whether or not these explanations were in fact, valid.
I was met with a careful pondering look of reflection, which very much matched what the avian had to say in response.
“Those are the primary issues with the Library, albeit abbreviated and embellished.” Thacea admitted. “As many would say, the library works in mysterious ways. Yet it is the only equalizer in an otherwise Nexus-dominated reality. Yes, it is meant to be accessible to all, but it positions itself in such a way that makes that relatively difficult for the average commoner to access, let alone discover what they seek without the aid of magic.”
It was at that point that I decided to make an executive decision. “All I need to know is if this library is in fact a separate entity, and won’t rat us out to the Academy.” I made sure to maintain eye contact with the other two, despite knowing it probably meant nothing given the helmet. “I’m really trusting you guys on this one here, so just answer me that one simple question.”
Both Thacea and Thalmin locked eyes, and nodded simultaneously. “That is correct.” The pair responded.
“Then that’s all I need to know. Let’s head to this library, figure out what the hell a null is, what this ritual of duplicity is, and get back on track to getting the bomb situation sorted, because I’m starting to get really annoyed by all this side-questing.” I made my intentions clear, and with little in the way of anything else to add, the three of us left the dorms with Thacea leading the way.
----------------------------------------
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, En Route to The Library. Local Time: 1050 Hours.
Unlike many of the other locations we’d previously entered over the course of the day and a half, the library actually required us to exit the main structure of the castle for the very first time. A pair of unassuming double doors marked the end of the castle proper, and the start of something completely breathtaking.
Through those double doors was a massive open expanse of sky. Or at least, that’s what it felt like at first as we were met with nothing but open space on all sides, with the exception of a narrow, stone bridge barely two bodies wide in front of us. The spindly, narrow bridge was all that connected the castle to the stark white tower that stood ominously in front of us. A tower which soared at least a hundred stories overhead, perched atop of what could only be described as a small rocky outcropping on the other side of the waterfall that I’d noticed from the Grand Dining Hall just earlier this morning.
The structure was bland, resembling a cylindrical pillar of pure white that pierced the misty fog above us. Indeed, it was completely separate from the Academy, connected only by a walkway that didn’t even look like it could support Thalmin’s weight, let alone my weight.
The cacophonous roaring of the water around us was logged at a deafening 91 decibels, and would’ve been overwhelming if it wasn’t for my suit and my decade spent in the heart of the noise capital of the world: the Acela Corridor.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 200% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
I heard the suit bark at me a total of two times, the source of these spikes in mana radiation quickly being narrowed down to both Thacea and Thalmin. It was clear that they’d probably used some sort of magic to deal with the deafening sound from the waterfall as well. Thacea took the lead in walking forward towards this awe inspiring structure, not once flinching as I took it upon myself to follow, confident that whatever magic that was behind the impossibility of this structure would somehow keep it stable as I walked over to the other side.
There was a single, unassuming timber door that provided the only entry between the world outside and the massive tower which we now stood at the base of. Unlike everything in the Academy, its design was unassuming, bland, and dare I say very commoner-looking. There were no embellishments, no golden trimmings, but at the same time, the timber and steel looked as if it had shrugged off any corrosion or wear and tear that would’ve been expected in an environment this extreme.
Regardless, I allowed the Princess to once again take point, as she gave the door a series of carefully timed knocks.
Seconds passed.
And we received no response.
It was only after a minute had passed before the door finally opened, revealing a space that should not have been possible as far as euclidean geometry was concerned.
The base of the structure from the outside was barely 140 feet in diameter.
The room I was currently standing in, in stark contrast, was larger than the largest of the mega-stadiums down south.
Suffice it to say the size of the space within the spire was well beyond the dimensions we’d seen of it on the outside, and the cause behind this phenomenon became very much apparent in the form of a simple alert.
ALERT: INCREASE IN BACKGROUND MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 400% ABOVE BENCHMARK BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS.
The place was bathed in a heavy uptick in mana, which was more than likely the source of all of this non euclidean tomfoolery.
“What is it you seek?”A voice suddenly peeped up. Though it wasn’t anything grand as I’d expected, nor was it something that would’ve fit the bill of being even remotely intimidating. Instead, it was a squeaky, cordial voice, that didn’t come from another stuck-up elf or some self-deluded noble, no.
Instead, I had to look down to determine the source of that voice, as I was met face to face with someone, or rather, something I never expected.
Coming in at barely a foot in height, was a red fox with a book wedged inside its maw. One that sat patiently with both of its paws politely splayed out in front of it. Its fluffy, feather-duster-like tail swishing to and fro, its eyes transfixed not on Thacea who was closest to it, nor at Thalmin, but at me.