Havoc1021
patreon
Rise of the Archon: Book 2, Chapter 73
🕑 Added 2025-03-31 07:07:44 +0000 UTCI found Wallace standing in his workshop. It was a small room built into the back of his home, and I opted to remain at the doorway rather than crowd the already cramped space.
Fortunatus padded up beside me, and I sensed his curiosity through our bond. That and something else. His aura felt stronger. Denser, maybe. Had he grown more powerful these past few months, or was I growing more aware of it as our tether grew more stable? Questions for later.
Wallace glanced over his shoulder, dropping the hunk of cold iron from his hands as he turned to face me. His expression was tired but neutral, and I could see the moment he realized why I was there.
"You're leaving," Wallace said, not bothering to pose it as a question.
I nodded regardless. "I am, yes."
"When?"
"In about two hours," I replied, "Give or take. I want to get on the road sooner rather than later."
Wallace nodded a few times, but something was in his gaze. "...Why? I mean, it's not like they found us, have they? Yeah, I know you can't figure out reinforcement, but I still think you—"
"I told them the truth," I interrupted.
The metal mage's eyes widened, and I could see anger creep into his features. I decided to press on and explain myself before he grew enraged.
"Keeper Yorish knew. My deception put him into an impossible position, one that jeopardized everything. I needed to make a choice, and there seemed only one left."
"Leaving?" Wallace sighed, shaking his head as he pushed away from the table he leaned against, "Alright, I'll start packing my things. I'm guessing we're traveling light."
"Yes, I am," I replied, emphasizing the word.
Wallace's face pinched in confusion, and I continued, "Keeper Yorish and I came to an understanding. I have to leave, but you can stay here. So long as you want to, of course."
His face looked confused, and Wallace finally asked the obvious question.
"Why?"
"I have no right asking you to keep following me," I explained with a half-shrug, "These assassins are my responsibility, not yours, and I will solve them myself."
"I'm...not sure what to say," Wallace finally said, clearing his throat as he finished speaking.
"Nothing needs to be said," I replied with another shrug.
A part of me wanted to say more, but I could not think of anything. So, I gave the man a nod and turned to leave. Before I could, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
I turned and saw the expression on Wallace's face. He looked...not confused, but something similar to that. Curious, maybe? He examined me for a moment, maybe two, then stuck out one hand.
"Take care, Vayne," Wallace said, "And don't you dare get yourself killed. You owe me a rematch."
I raised an eyebrow, then smiled and took his hand. "You as well. I expect you to figure out cold iron when we meet again."
Wallace returned my expression with a confident grin. "You can bet on it."
I released his hand, nodded again, and left for my room. Fortunatus followed me, and I sensed his thoughts brushing against mine, feather-soft and confused.
"Wallace friend?" the creature asked.
I had learned over the months that Fortunatus did not fully grasp the concept of friendship. He was a beast despite his intelligence, and such ideas did not come naturally to him. All I had managed to teach him so far was that friends traveled together, watching over one another.
But he was learning, and it was a question worth answering. The only problem is that I did not have an answer. Wallace and I had not gotten along well, and it had remained a relationship defined by self-interest, circumstance, and mutual benefit rather than affection.
Still...I wished things had been different. Wallace was a man abandoned by his family through no fault of his own. He had made mistakes, but so had I. Now, he had the chance to move beyond his past and maybe we could do the same someday.
So, I nodded and replied with a smile. "Yes, friend."
The cat sent a flicker of confusion through our bond, but he had caught bits of my thoughts. I waited for him to ask more, but he remained silent.
It took us about an hour to pack up as much as possible. I had taken care to slowly trade labor for materials and supplies over the past few months. Still, my pack felt distressingly light, with only a tent, a few spare sets of clothes, some essential survival equipment, my spear, and a couple other odds and ends to my name. Hardly enough for a protracted time on the road, but it was about as good as I could manage.
We left around midday, cutting a path across the grasslands and rolling plains to the north. I moved as fast as I could manage, drawing heavily on my Aether to run at near-full speed through gentle declines and hills, dodging holes, roots, and shallow streams.
Our route had no rhyme or reason because I had no destination in mind. My primary objective was to put as much distance between us and the Everforge as possible before word could spread about my true identity. I doubted Yorish would gossip, but better safe than dead.
I decided to set up camp and get some rest. A small clearing within a copse seemed as good a place as any, and after about an hour, I found myself sitting on a rock with some dried meat and hard bread in hand. As I ate, I thought about my next move.
The assassins were the looming problem and one I needed to fix sooner rather than later. They might not know where I was now, but there was no reason to assume that would remain true. I saw three options before me, and unfortunately, all three had problems.
First, I could find another benefactor, like I had with the Order of Forgetenders. Powerful mages often sought out personal students, and I might be able to convince one to take me on as their apprentice. Still, this felt unlikely.
My second choice was to take the fight to the Silent Ones. If I could wipe them out, there would not be anyone to hunt me down. This was a fantastical dream, and I considered it only out of principle. It was a solution to my problem, after all.
Third, I could throw myself into isolated training and study, seeking to gain as much power as possible. If I became a significant enough threat, these assassins might decide the pay was not worth the risk. All I had to do was get that powerful before they found me.
That last thought brought me back to something that had begun needling at me for months.
I had stagnated.
My progress had not stopped entirely, but it had slowed to a crawl. I had gained new talents that might prove useful, and my basics felt more polished than ever, but the whole thing was disjointed. Like a puzzle where the pieces did not quite fit together.
But I could see it. There was an image, a greater idea of my personal magical style. All I needed to do was put it together into something cohesive.
Over the years, I had created or modified five spells: Arcane Body, Traveler's Armor, Flicker Step, Mana Bolt, and my rudimentary force magic. Those would serve as the foundation going forward, and my best choice was to blend my new talents into each.
The question was how?
I decided to start with Creation. It was an obvious first choice after months of honing my talents in the field, and it felt the easiest to incorporate. Crafting permanent weapons and armor from Aether was the logical progression, though I needed more mana before either became viable.
Destruction felt the natural counterpart. I had taken the skill from an accidental side-effect of uncontrolled magic to a usable tool after a month of focused training. How far would it progress with months of more effort? However, I could not see a place to slot it into place. Not yet, at least.
Slowly, my mind wandered to other topics.
I had first decided to learn healing magic to improve my physical enhancement magic. It felt like an obvious choice and had served that purpose to an extent, but there were limits. I planned to puzzle out true permanent augmentation someday, but I had to accept such a day was not today.
However, the Everforge and my bond with Fortunatus had caused me to re-evaluate that.
Permanent physical improvements had to involve binding mana to the body. It was the only thing that made sense, and every bit of our research had suggested as much. I had assumed this was limited to flesh and bone, but was it? Maybe there was something...deeper. More fundamental at play.
The Everforge was the clue. Yorish's blade had felt like magic and metal bound together, but not so crudely as most mages. It felt whole. Fused. Mana and material merged seamlessly and wholly into a single object of singular purpose.
I knew there was an underlying structure to metal. High-quality swords felt more orderly if you pushed mana into them, which I knew played a role in durability. Maybe that was the trick to it.
Was it possible that magical beasts bound mana to flesh on a more fundamental level than I thought? Or was I overthinking it? Would my Aether even allow such an interaction?
I shook my head, moving away from that line of thinking. It did not feel quite right, but it had led me down an interesting path. The Everforge had not only fused mana with metal, but it had given the blade something else. I had not caught it then, but the sword had felt...not alive, but focused. Purposeful.
Intent.
A shiver ran down my back, and I almost grabbed a notebook from my pack, only to stop myself. Would that count as breaking my word? If I had to ask, it felt best to err on the side of caution. So, I refrained and instead turned over the idea in my head.
Magic worked off of intent, and this was particularly true of enchantments. The only thing that gives structure to an enchanted weapon or tool is the will of its creator. Runes helped focus that intent, but I had already theorized that it was possible to sidestep this requirement.
What if the Everforge did that? What if this was how such a technique would appear? What if, taken to their logical conclusion, Forging and Enchanting reached the same place?
Dozens of ideas bloomed in my mind. Another shiver ran down my spine, and I felt my fingers tapping a chaotic rhythm on my leg. Concepts connected with one another, new questions arising even as old ones felt answered.
I could never return to the Everforge...but what if I could craft one of my own? What if, instead of creating a forge designed to channel six other elements, I made one designed to channel just one. And what if, rather than steel or iron or bronze, I used mana.
Namely, mine.
Such an idea was not ambitious. That felt insufficient a term. It would require years of careful work, but the base concept was one I could apply now. All I had to do was learn to create constructs while imbuing them with my focused intent. I doubted it would be nearly as stable as making it using tools, but it seemed possible.
As the sun peeked through the branches, alighting our quiet camp, I began conjuring a blade of pure, brilliant green Aether.
Comments
Alex Perez
Manaforge bouta go crazy
vdv9
Tyftc
