Instantly, light swirled around Kelfir; a golden radiance bloomed from the great machine at the heart of the tower's apex, surrounding the entire structure in a coruscating aura of white luminescence. "The Tower is now sealed to outsiders," he snapped to Topher, stepping close; "We must assume that the forces of whoever destroyed Zytis and Tuveinth will act with alacrity once they become aware of this. Channel akasha, and quickly." He closed his eyes and held his hands out before him; a band of white light began to stream from his right palm to his left.

Topher nodded, suspending the Soulstone between his hands with Attract Object; his control over it now was so subtle and fine-tuned that he could accomplish most object manipulation without even casting Mage Hand these days. Concentrating, he slipped into his Metaphrasty trance and began to channel akasha, but he did so in a bent stream that avoided the Soulstone and instead crossed into Kelfir's stream. Their consciousnesses merged instantly; he felt surprise and defensiveness from the Archmage, and pushed his own thoughts through the connection as quickly as he dared. It takes two. Vashyarl would have overwhelmed and devoured me if Sahlerra hadn't been helping me; we have to work together. There was a short pause, then he felt Kelfir's assent come across the link. Moving his hands perpendicular to Kelfir's, he straightened the band of his akasha even as the Soulstone entered the point where their streams merged, forming an X with the Soulstone at its center.

The world around him became Blue.

It wasn't nearly as violent and disruptive as hosting Vashyarl's essence; partially because they were merely channeling Irineth, rather than trying to evoke the Immortal Beast's form, and partially because Topher had at least some idea of what to expect this time. Additionally, Kelfir's ironclad discipline and deep well of arcane knowledge steadied Topher and gave him context for much of what he was experiencing; as a result, he felt much more in control as the totality of the ancient Otherworlder expanded and unfolded throughout his consciousness.

Of course, that didn't mean it was easy; howling gales of identity buffeted Topher, threatening to snuff out his psyche like a candle in a windstorm. But his new Edict-supported mind could withstand the crushing weight of the dragon's ipseity, and he focused on containing and subduing Irineth's essence while Kelfir channeled and circumscribed its parameters. In moments, the Archmage reduced it from a ravening explosion of otherness to an orderly and comprehensible state that, though still impossibly vast and complex, could at least be understood as a thing external to himself.

Where Vashyarl's spirit had been chaotic and violent, Irineth's was cool and regimented -- a thing more of intellect than of will, of stately logic and apprehension that transcended the boundaries of Topher's mind like a mountain rises above a landscape. The Otherworlder -- born a girl, Topher felt as much as saw, but quick to experiment with forms and gender in this new world -- had been obsessed with the acquisition of knowledge, relentlessly pushing the boundaries of magic and morality before an eventual descent into power-mad depravity. The Otherworlder's Class -- Great Sage -- had been possessed of all manner of Skills related to Status analysis and spell knowledge, and the dragon had been capable of casting nearly every Mage and Priest spell. Its True Rune was nearly twice as vast as Vashyarl's had been, stretching and spreading across runespace, and powerful emotions reverberated through it -- lust, industry, satisfaction, and an echo of impotent rage -- that threatened to burn through Topher's soul. I need help, he pleaded with Kelfir as he fought through the waves of overpowering sensation; the Archmage responded by sheltering his mind, blunting the torrent of emotional weight so that Topher could focus on his objective. Sensing that the rage was the foreign element, he followed and traced it down through the ghost of Irineth's mind; what he found at the end nearly destroyed him.

A memory, impossibly vivid and graphic, assaulted him as he plunged into it like a drowning man; Irineth and Vashyarl grappling, clawing at each other as they crashed through forested mountaintops. Spells reverberated from each of the combatants as the battle intensified, and Topher came close to being overwhelmed by Irineth's despair that even their most powerful attacks could find no purchase against Vashyarl's myriad layers of protections. And when the battle came to its gruesome end -- Vashyarl wrenching Irineth's Soulstone from its living, savaged body while the other dragon choked out its final breath through blood-filled lungs -- the sense of unfairness, of wretched injustice that a lesser intellect had triumphed over a greater one -- threatened to twist Topher's mind into a haughty reflection of its rancor.

But he was too familiar with such things to be conquered so easily; inch by inch, he reclaimed himself, following the thread of memory back up into Irineth's past. He flew past deep wells of cryptic and inscrutable lore, aware that mastering the smallest fraction of it would make him unrivaled amongst mages, and pressed forward towards his goal. Somewhere in this fragmented and embalmed phantasm was the secret somebody else didn't want them to find -- something worth destroying precious heritage that had lain untouched and ignored for a millennium -- and he didn't know how much time they had to find it. He roared past ancient feuds, winced as he flickered past debauched sexual experiments, and delved as deeply as he dared in search of it.

But even with Kelfir's help, there was simply too much; the Otherworlder had been much more complex than Vashyarl, a deeply torn and conflicted person who had suffered and struggled with demons both without and within, and their intense and intricate experiences had spanned hundreds of years. The tapestry of Irineth's life was simply too vast, too sophisticated, and too labyrinthine for even their combined wills to master; and, slowly, Topher felt his stamina beginning to erode. We need to get out soon, he frantically transmitted to Kelfir; he felt the Archmage return agreement, and the two of them began the slow and difficult process of extricating their minds from Irineth's totality.

He wasn't sure if it took minutes or hours; the unrelenting Blueness saturated everything, trapping them within spirals of memory and temptation, as though the ancient Otherworlder's spectre wished to ensnare and consume their identities. But, at the last, they were vomited up upon the shores of individuality once more, gasping upon the floor of the Tower like landed fish.

Kelfir recovered first; pulling himself into a seated position, he squeezed his eyes shut and beat at his head with both fists, cursing in Elvish that Topher couldn't understand, while Topher just curled into a ball and concentrated very hard on not throwing up. Eventually, the torments receded; Kelfir staggered to his feet in search of wine, while Topher just conjured a dwarfmeal tumbler of water and guzzled it desperately. "Fuck," he gasped as he struggled to rise, finding that even his newly-strong legs would not support him; finally, he just crawled to a chair and collapsed into it. "You elves. Even your gods are dicks."

"Indeed," Kelfir commented drily, sucking at the neck of an expensive-looking wine bottle as though his life depended on it. "Though one suspects human gods are also, as you put it, 'dicks'."

Too tired for words, Topher made a saluting gesture of acquiescence; Kelfir shuddered and downed another draught of wine. Eventually, he dropped the bottle carelessly on the floor and collapsed; his Wyrd caught him like a dancing partner, forming itself into a curving couch beneath his supine form. "Folly," he murmured, over and over. "Folly."

"Guessing that means you didn't get anything useful either," Topher grunted; after a moment, enlightenment dawned, and he cast Remove Fatigue on himself. The worst of the physical exhaustion faded noticeably, and he staggered over to Kelfir to bestow the same upon him. "Unless you count a few dozen nightmares worth of shapeshifter sex party bullshit."

"I am not sure," the Archmage responded, speaking slowly; he sat up, staring bleakly into space. "It may not be actionable. But, putting together the pieces of snatched memories, I know that Vashyarl did not slay Irineth on a whim; the Infinite King ordered the killing, to silence the Immortal Beast." He shook his head, rubbing his temples and concentrating. "Some secret... some power..."

It took him nearly a minute, as Topher stared onwards in dumbfounded exhaustion; but when Kelfir uttered the truth, Topher felt like lightning had struck his entire spine at once. "Irineth had discovered how to create an Edict."

----------------------------------------

At first, the intensity of what the Archmage had said did not register with him; Topher merely stood there, stupefied, and wallowed in the dread that they might have missed whatever their secretive adversary was so desperate to keep from them. But, slowly, understanding began to trickle through him, and with it, little pieces of a larger insight that had been building within him. Ever since he'd learned what a Wyrd was and seen how the Archmage wielded them, he had toyed with and discarded idea after idea for what sort of Wyrd he wished for himself; he'd imagined himself wielding an invincible sword, but couldn't help visualizing the natural consequences (his hand getting chopped off, accidentally wounding his companions, and so on). Other forms, like an impenetrable shield, blazing wings, and other accoutrements had each come with their own brand of prospective terrors, and he'd abandoned them one by one long before he'd actually crafted his first Wyrd. When he'd discovered exactly how horrific and atomic the process actually was, his outlook on the entire prospect had been even more bleak; and after the travesty at the battle, he'd nearly given up on the idea of ever making another. But Kelfir's mention of an Edict stirred half-glimpsed memories he'd also seen inside Irineth's echoing mind; conjured images that tantalized him with their similarity to his Edict-reinforced mind. Shaking himself, he put it away for now; but then another fragment of recollection hit him, and he reached into his Magic Bag a second time. "Hey, what about this?"

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Hm?" Kelfir craned his neck to look at the spellbook Topher had produced; with his new familiarity, Topher now recognized the handwriting as Irineth's. "What of it?"

"This was Irineth's spellbook, I think." Topher opened the book, flipping to the middle; he tapped the first of the two high-Level spells. "Tempus Thumos and Tempus Lepsis -- you recognize either of those?"

"I cannot say that I do." The Archmage examined them intently, flipping back and forth through the thick pages as a frown gathered on his brow like a thundercloud. "They are... very complex. I am not high enough Level to cast them."

"You're not?" Topher's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What Level are you?"

"Level 69," Kelfir replied, then scowled at Topher's amusement. "Why is that funny?"

"Nice," Topher managed, trying not to succumb to another giggling fit. "Otherworlder stuff -- you wouldn't understand." He took the spellbook back from the elf and flipped to the beginning of Tempus Thumos, scrutinizing the runes. "I could cast these, at least in theory -- but it would take weeks or months to decode all the runes. Fat lot of good they do us."

"Unfortunate," Kelfir agreed. "What of your other new Skills? I admit familiarity with Encrypt Document -- it is used in some matters of state by Clerks employed by various governments -- and the functionality of Duplicate Document seems self-explanatory. But what of the others?"

"I never tested Encrypt Document; I was afraid I wouldn't be able to undo it," Topher admitted. "As for Authenticate Document, it basically seems to just tell me who created a document and how long ago." He held the spellbook aloft and concentrated on it, then reported what he saw to Kelfir.

Irineth's Spellbook 0F3A

Author:

Irineth The Blue

Created:

197624 Days Ago

Last Updated:

184211 Days Ago

"The numbers at the end are presumably some manner of sequence," Kelfir mused, pacing again. "The rest seems understandable, if less than useful." He looked up at Topher. "You may rest easy regarding Encrypt Document -- its sole function is to make a document unreadable by any except the encryptor's designated parties, and the encryptor may reverse the encryption at any time. If you are concerned, I might suggest Duplicating Irineth's spellbook, then Encrypting the duplicate as a low-risk test."

Intrigued, Topher did as he asked; he also noticed that, unlike most of his other Clerk powers, Duplicating a document cost him a hefty chunk of SP each time. Guess it prevents anybody from making an infinitely-large stack of books to fall on their enemies. Following Kelfir's guidance, he Duplicated the spellbook, then Encrypted it such that only Kelfir could read it; all the words within became meaningless squiggles, but the Archmage reported that the book still looked identical. Reclaiming the tome, Topher Decrypted it back to its original state, verified he could read it again, then banished the Duplicate; he was pleased to discover that this refunded about half of the SP that the Duplication had cost him. Handy. I bet this really would be neat if I was doing actual clerical work, rather than trying to use my Class as a shitty substitute for half a Mage and a quarter of a Priest.

Restore Document proved equally easy to use, undoing burns, tears, and soakings with no apparent difficulty; "I'd make a hell of a librarian or archaeologist," Topher commented to Kelfir, who simply nodded without evident humor. Locate Document, on the other hand, was obnoxious as all hell to use, and it took them nearly an hour of trial and error to discover that firstly, it could only be used on documents Topher could both visualize and was certain they existed; and secondly, it printed the document's location in Topher's Ledger rather than doing something more sensible like giving him a vision or a Status window.

Validate Document was the final one they tested; early attempts accomplished nothing they could detect, but experiments on a notebook page Kelfir had written in Elvish eventually proved that Validated documents could be read by the validator regardless of language. Furthermore, Topher could discern the truth or falsehood of any statement in the document, which excited them both initially; however, further testing quickly revealed that it only revealed truth or falsehood as known by the document's creator, preventing the vast majority of any particular clever exploits they could envision.

Frustrated, Topher leaned back in the chair the Archmage had conjured for him; he rubbed his newly-shortened beard, sighing. "I dunno, Kelfir. It all seems useful, but I can't think of any way it helps us in our current situation."

The elf nodded. "The use of Encrypted documents for secure messaging, at least, seems obvious; however, there is no guarantee that the Demon Lord's forces do not possess agents with Classes who may use some manner of Decrypt Document Skill." He shuffled a few papers, then did something which shocked Topher; he went to a large cabinet, unlocked it with a golden key, and retrieved a large, ornate tome which he then leafed through. "Still, some level of security seems better than none. Would it discomfit you unduly if I were to ask you a favor?"

Topher blinked. "Uh, no. You've done a lot for me -- shit, you're doing a lot for me right now. Why wouldn't I listen to any favor you wanted?"

"Ah." The elf grimaced, looking down at his shoes, then looked back at Topher. "It was more of a courtesy question." He held out the tome to Topher. "Would you mind Encrypting my own spellbook?"

Topher blinked. "This? This is your spellbook? You keep it in a cabinet?" Shrugging, he reached out and touched the tome lightly; with a flex of his will, he made it unreadable to anyone other than Kelfir. "I figured you big fancy Archmages would be beyond that sort of thing. Or at least be able to summon them whenever you wanted."

"Contrary to what you might believe," Kelfir murmured, taking the book back and leafing through it, "The Archmage Class is not simply a 'better' version of other spellcasting Classes. Each has their own specialties; the Clerk's Summon Ledger ability may not have been intended for a such purpose, but it is much more advantageous than you likely appreciate. Most mages, myself and the other Archmages included, are very vulnerable to the loss or destruction of our own." He nodded, satisfied, and closed the book again before looking back to Topher. "If we survive the coming events, I would be glad to share any spell you wish from my own collection -- though I doubt I have many you do not already possess. As you may have surmised, higher-Level spells tend to be idiosyncratic and challenging to master; each Class tends to possess only a handful of spells above Level 30."

"Shit, seriously?" Topher felt taken aback. "I would have thought you'd have had, like, a few hundred."

The Archmage shook his head. "I have mastered near seventy spells -- slightly more than three times the average mage -- and may, with luck, master an additional ten before succumbing to senility. As I expect you have learned, however, power comes not from having a wide variety of spells, but from having the facility to use a few spells very flexibly." He cast an Illusion of a roaring fire, then twisted it through a surging orb of water and into a freezing sphere. "Members of the Illusionist Class tend to master fewer than ten spells overall, but they are formidable in the extreme; quality, as they say, surpasses quantity."

Topher's eyebrows went up. "Illusionists? Seriously? How could they be formidable?"

Kelfir chuckled. "You are fortunate I am willing to explain rather than demonstrate. Let us simply say that combining threatening Illusions with spells which may actually harm can be quite effective." He locked his spellbook back in the cabinet and secreted the golden key away once more; Topher regretted not convincing the Archmage to let him cast Amanuensis, but figured it might be impolite.

The thought did give him an idea, however; he summoned his Ledger, cast Amanuensis to copy the contents of Irineth's spellbook into it, then handed the original over to Kelfir along with the Soulstone. "These things are probably safer with you than with me. And I guess they're technically important cultural treasures of the elves, or something. You should probably have 'em, either way."

Kelfir's eyes grew large; he examined both items intently for several seconds, then secreted them among his robes slowly and with great care. Extradimensional pockets, just like Vashyarl. Pretty neat trick. He bowed to Topher, very formally. "I thank you, Christopher. You show great trust in me."

"Yeah, well, for all the horrible shit you've done, you're a good guy at heart," Topher snorted. "Just don't get killed over it. Better if you don't let anyone know you have them for as long as you can pull it off, yeah?"

The Archmage nodded. "Perhaps a half-hour remains to us before the convocation; are there any experiments left for us to try?"

Topher shook his head. "Not unless you have anything else you want me to Validate. The other Skills aren't that useful, but if you have some kind of message from Sahlerra or something you want to check for lies, that one could at least be helpful there."

Kelfir shook his head. "I do not; we typically do not communicate in written messages, for reasons of security." He tapped Topher's Ledger. "However, do you not wish to Encrypt your own spellbook?"

"What for?" Topher shrugged. "There's nothing in there I care about anyone else reading. Worst they can do is tell me my math is shitty." Abruptly, however, a thought struck him. "That said, I guess I could try Validating it -- maybe it'd tell me if any of my math is wrong?"

The Archmage nodded. "A worthy experiment, given what I have seen of your aptitude." Topher rolled his eyes and snorted; Kelfir did not smile, but Topher could tell it had been a joke. "Let us make the attempt."

"Sure." Topher laid his hand on his Ledger, flexed his will to Validate it, and promptly blacked out.