Novels2Search
Web of Secrets [Modern Cultivation]
Book 3 - Chapter 47: Meetings

Book 3 - Chapter 47: Meetings

“I’m here,” Elend said as he approached the barn. “Open up.”

‘Took you long enough,’ Glim’s voice echoed in his mind. The door opened with a click, and the wards rippled as he stepped through. ‘Here I thought Kalden was boring. His brother’s even worse.’

Elend remained silent as he strode down the dimly lit corridor. This barn sat at the back of his property, almost a full mile from the main house. Each room had a bed, a shower, a toilet, and a sink. Layers of impedium ran through the walls, and the wards were strong enough to contain most Masters. His family hadn’t held actual prisoners here for several decades; there was little need for prisoners in this day and age.

Except, of course, when someone attacked his students.

Six hours had passed since the qualifying rounds, and the kids were all safe in their beds. Irina guarded the main house in case more thugs showed up, but such an attack seemed unlikely. It would take a Grandmaster to break through their defenses, and he doubted the Sons of Talek had any volunteers lining up.

Elend reached the end of the hall and stepped inside the cell. There, Sozen Trengsen sat cross-legged on his bed, while strands of pure mana bound him to the stone floor. These restraints gave him free movement, but they would tighten if he got too clever.

The lad immediately rose to his feet and dipped his head. “Grandmaster Darklight.”

Well, at least he had manners.

Elend nodded back and turned to the mirror above the sink “I’ll take it from here.”

“What?” Glim pouted. “I thought we were gonna play good cop, bad cop!”

Sozen shot the mana spirit a wary glance.

“Trust me,” Elend said. “You’ll be the first to know if he gives me trouble.”

Glim faded from the mirror, and Elend conjured a pair of leather armchairs in the center of the room. He lowered himself into the nearest chair, gesturing to the one opposite him. “Have a seat, lad.”

Sozen’s restraints vanished, and he took a few cautious steps forward. “You’re not worried about my abilities?”

Elend flashed him a knowing grin. “Conjure one of those blades for me, would you? The same one you used to slice off Dansin’s hand.”

Sozen went very still. “Do you understand what these are?”

“Moonshard,” Elend replied. “It’s a Construct technique made of Angelic mana, invented by the Archaeon Treluwyn. You have an Etherite soul in your chest. This lets you power it.”

Sozen exhaled slowly, then a blade of pale blue crystal sprang to life in his right hand. Like most blade mana Constructs, this one had a cylindrical hilt, big enough to grasp with two hands. The blade itself was semi-transparent, but a storm raged beneath its surface.

For a moment, Elend simply stared at the weapon in wide-eyed wonder. It was one thing to research Angelic mana in old books. Quite another to see a technique with your own eyes. Finally, he leaned forward and stretched out his hand.

Sozen yanked the blade back. “I’ve cut Grandmasters with these.”

“I believe you.”

The lad eyed him for several more heartbeats, then he brought the weapon back into Elend’s reach. Elend pressed his palms to either side, squeezing with all his might. The blade dug into his skin, but it didn’t draw blood.

Moonshard was impressive, but it was also a defensive technique by nature. A skilled Blade Artist like Sozen could reshape it, but he was still limited by his own power.

Elend also had a stronger body than most of his peers. As a boy, his parents put him through the toughest training money could buy, breaking every bone in his body, slicing and burning every inch of his skin. Others had slacked off in their younger years, hoping to make up for it in some vague, far off future. Either that, or they rested on their laurels and fell behind.

“I’m not showing off,” Elend told him. “But you should know you can’t hurt me. You’ll waste everyone’s time if you try.”

Sozen dismissed the blade, looking appropriately thoughtful. “Fair enough.”

Elend leaned back in his chair, resting an ankle on his knee. “I’ve gotten some mixed messages about you, lad. Akari said you helped her this morning. You made sure that Space Artist wasn’t around, even before you broke his portal. You ordered the others to use stun rods rather than mana techniques, and you kept them from attacking all at once.”

“That’s all true,” he said quickly.

“So you don’t mean my students harm. You never have.” Elend held up a finger. “However, you were at the scene of the crime today. I want answers, and someone has to give them to me.”

Sozen didn’t reply this time.

“I could make you talk if I wanted.” Elend wove a few dream Missiles between his fingers as he spoke. “But you’re Kalden’s brother, and I’d rather not turn your brain into a smoothie. So I’ll make you a deal . . . ” The mana faded form his hand, and he held up his middle fingers. “You answer three questions for me. Three questions, and I’ll let you go.”

The lad let out a long breath as he considered. It was a good deal, and he knew it. Certainly better than his scapegoat would get from the Espirian Crime Agency.

“What if I’ve sworn a soul oath not to discuss something?” Sozen asked.

“Then we’ll skip it, assuming you’re telling me the truth. And believe me, I always know.”

“What if the answer might put you in danger? Or someone else?”

“If I sense you’re being reasonable, then I might take your word for it. If not . . .” He trailed off and shrugged his shoulders. “I intend to get my answers either way.”

“The ECA will still be after me,” Sozen said. “I’ll need to lie low for a while—probably back in Vaslana.” He looked up and met Elend’s eyes again. “Can I say goodbye to my brother first?”

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“Aye. That can be arranged.”

He gave a slow nod and swallowed. “Three questions, you said?”

“Well, three topics. There might be some tangents, but I’ll stick to the spirit of the promise.”

“Sounds like I don’t have much of a choice.”

“Excellent,” Elend reached into his bag and pulled out a water pitcher from the built-in pocket dimension. A pair of glasses followed, then he forged wooden table between them—an exact replica of the table in his office.

“I know you’re an Aeon,” he said as he poured the drinks. “But you’re also a Mana Artist. You and Kalden have the same parents, so this couldn’t have happened naturally. And yet, no one’s walked away from the Aeon ritual without permanent damage. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.” He took a sip of his water and leaned forward. “I want to know how you did it.”

“You heard right” Sozen glanced down at his lap, and a regretful smile touched the corners of his lips. “Lady Solidor did the ritual herself, but I didn’t walk away unscathed. I’m stuck at Artisan for life.”

“Ah . . . I’m sorry.” Beyond that, no words came. What did you say to someone who’d reached the end of his path? All Mana Artists strove for immortality deep down. Few would ever reach such a lofty goal, but even fewer had their hopes so thoroughly crushed.

“I’ve made my peace with it,” Sozen said, “even if it wasn’t easy. I’m helping to save my home.”

“A worthy goal,” Elend agreed.

Sozen sipped his own water, and his eyes went momentarily distant. “More than most people can say these days.”

“So you were Lady Solidor’s test subject. She must be making progress, then. You wouldn’t have volunteered otherwise.”

Sozen lowered his glass and looked up. “Is that your second question, Grandmaster?”

Elend shook his head. “I want to know if the Solidors have perfected the ritual. And if they have, I’d like to know the requirements in broad strokes.”

“They have the theory down,” he said after a short pause. “And they expect their next attempt to work. As for the requirements, I’m not at liberty to say.”

“That’s alright.” Elend waved a hand. “I’m guessing it needs to happen during the Artisan advancement. If you’re any stronger, your body will reject the crystal. Any weaker, and you’ll suffer permanent damage.”

“I can’t confirm or deny anything.” The lad tried to keep a straight face, but he wasn’t good enough to fool a Dream Artist.

“I’m sure it’s more complicated than that,” Elend said. “You’d have to train with smaller crystals first. Artisan bodies can’t heal what they’ve never faced, right?”

Sozen’s eyebrow twitched at that. This was probably the part they’d messed up during his own ritual. Too bad they hadn’t compared notes sooner, or Elend could have helped them.

“Last question,” Elend said. “I’ve been trying to contact the Solidors for years now. Our goals align, and we seem like natural allies. So why are they avoiding me?” He’d asked Lena this same question, but she’d never been a part of her church’s inner circle. To her, the Solidors were as unreachable as the Angels themselves.

“They don’t know who to trust,” Sozen said. “And the Mystics are still a threat to them. People have betrayed them before, and they’d rather not let it happen again.”

“What about Akari Zeller? They’re looking for a Spacetime Artist, aren’t they?” This was technically a fourth question, but Elend didn’t feel too bad after they’d breezed through the first three. If he’d wanted to, he could have dragged on the conversation and squeezed the lad for more information.

Sozen must have realized the same thing because he didn’t hesitate. “They know about Akari, Including her progress this past year. But a successful Aeon ritual would be even stronger than you think.”

Hope flared in Elend’s chest. “So the rumors are true. Aeons can absorb mana and use that to advance quicker.”

“Much quicker,” Sozen said with a nod. “This could make a whole new generation of Mana Artists. One that might someday oppose the Mystics. Maybe even the Angels themselves.”

“Aye.” Elend felt a slow smile spread across his face. “I’m counting on it.”

~~~

The kids woke up a few hours later. Sozen joined them for a late lunch, said goodbye to his brother, then made his way back to Vaslana.

Raizen was still in his office when Elend arrived on campus. No surprise there. It might be Azulday evening, but the qualifying rounds came with a mountain of paperwork. Elend opened the door without knocking and found his fellow teacher staring out the window. Darkness shrouded the campus beyond, and the only light came from the distant dormitories.

“Grandmaster Darklight.” Raizen kept his voice casual as he turned toward the door. It was all an act, of course. This man wouldn’t relax if someone killed him.

“Grandmaster Raizen.” Elend’s blood boiled as he stepped between a pair of cushioned chairs. “Why’d you do it?”

To his credit, Raizen didn’t bother with denials. “You know my wife is sick.”

“Let me guess,” Elend said. “The Sons of Talek offered you a cure. You just had to look the other way while they kidnapped my student.”

“I’m sorry,” Raizen said. “Truly, I am. But I’ve watched both of my brothers die in battle. I’ve watched friends die, and soldiers under my command. You’d think I’d be used to death by now, but I’m tired of it.”

“I’m sure,” Elend replied. “It’s much easier to stomach when it’s someone else, isn’t it? Even better when you don’t have to see it happen.”

Raizen narrowed his eyes. “What would you do in my place? Would you let Irina die, knowing you could help her?”

“There are worse things than dying,” Elend said. “Like living in a world of spineless cowards.”

The other man gave a humorless chuckle. “It’s fitting that you quote President Collaza. She died miserable and alone. Tell me, what’s the point of immortality if you lose everyone you love along the way?”

Elend shook his head. “You were responsible for these students and their safety. You ignored that, and no amount of philosophical bullshit can justify it.”

Raizen stepped forward and placed his hands on the lacquered wooden desk. “I still believe in your cause. The Mystics have us playing games, and the Sons of Talek are their pawns.”

“You can’t have it both ways,” Elend said. “I’ve seen the fighting in Creta, and it’s only a matter of time before it comes here. When it does, you’ll need to pick a side.”

“Today was a victory for both of us” Raizen retorted. “I got my cure, and you saved your student. You also got two prisoners, and exposed Dansin Roth for what he was. It’s not my fault you picked yesterday to leave the country.”

Elend shook his head and stood straighter. “As of tomorrow, my students will no longer be attending your classes. Not this semester, or any semester after that. We’ll replace that time with private lessons, and they’ll still get full credit.”

“This can be arranged,” Raizen said.

“Good. And if you ever come near them again—”

“Don’t threaten me, Elend.” Raizen’s face darkened like a storm. “I agreed to your terms as a courtesy, nothing more. We both know you can’t fight at my level.”

Elend was tempted to prove him wrong in that moment. But no . . . he’d gone years without using his power like that. What’s more, Raizen might be right. Even now, the other man cycled blade mana through his channels, ready to destroy any techniques Elend sent his way.

He was about to leave when he felt a bit of dream mana leave his soul. Someone had just used a technique, but it wasn’t him

Glim appeared in the window behind Raizen. “Here’s the thing about Dream Artists,” she said in a low voice. “You never see us coming.” Then she leapt from the window, straight into Raizen’s body. His skin shone violet as she became a Cloak technique. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed like a fallen tree.

“Most Dream Artists choose fear as their weapon,” she said. “But fear is like an old friend for you, isn’t it? You’ve fought it before, and you could do it again. Indifference, though . . . that’s one of the worst feelings in the world. No one can face it alone.”

Raizen remained perfectly still for several heartbeats. Then his hand moved to his windpipe where he conjured a blade of silver mana.

“I could make you slit your own throat,” Glim said. “And you’d drift off to sleep without a care. You might be brave deep down, but no one would ever know.”

Elend stepped around the desk, but he didn’t intervene.

Glim’s voice went higher. “I could turn your brain to mush and leave you drooling in a cup till the day you die. Become my enemy, and you’ll never know a moment’s rest. You can’t run from me. You can’t hide.”

Raizen’s hand moved on its own, inching the blade even closer to his throat.

“Glim,” Elend snapped. “That’s enough.” He reached out through their bond and pulled her back.

The mana spirit returned to the window, taking on her human-like form. Her blue eyes were hard when she looked at him, and her fists shook at her sides. “They’re my students, too, you know.”

“I know.” Elend glanced down at Raizen’s unmoving body. The blade had faded from his hand, and his dark eyes stared up at the ceilling. “He got the message.”