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Rise of the Archon- Book 2, Chapter 69
🕑 Added 2025-03-17 06:24:03 +0000 UTCMy idea was not wholly unique. I had read about it once, but it was a rare talent most regarded as pointless to learn. What's more, mastering it to the point where I could use it in a demonstration seemed like something that would take months.
I had three weeks.
Despite that daunting prospect, I found myself more driven and focused than I had felt in months. A part of that stemmed from simple envy and fear. Wallace had surpassed me with apparent ease, and it needled my pride. And there was the specter of death and the creeping dread of failure, which had begun whispering in my ears.
But the lion's share of that focus came from simply having a goal. I had spent months aimless, moving from whim to whim, but now I had a purpose. All I had to do was make it a reality.
Weeks passed in a blur as I fell into my training. My days became a cycle of sleeping, training, note-taking, and more sleeping, interspersed only by meals. Bathing became a luxury I indulged in as little as possible, and I pared away whatever responsibilities and social obligations I could.
Wallace seemed to understand my determination and was content to leave me to work. In fact, he often assisted me in my training, bringing me cubes of various metals, along with writing utensils and paper.
Ironically, I should have assisted him, as it was Wallace's home rather than mine. He was the disciple, after all. But, whether through some sense of gratitude, burgeoning friendship, or altruism, Wallace deferred to me.
Fortunatus was my only companion during this time, and he was a poor one at that. I intended to examine him further, trying to figure out how mana enhanced his body or what benefits our bond granted me, but I had to set those tasks aside. It was the most frustrating part of the last half-year, but it was a sacrifice I made without much regret.
All too soon, my final attempt at the trials arrived. A disciple led me to the same chamber I had entered many times over, and I once more stood before the Speakers and the Keeper. I had learned most of their names, but only one drew my attention.
Keeper Yorish's face was stoic as he intoned, "Show us your three fundamental skills, initiate."
I nodded, then raised my left hand and began shaping mana. Aether swirled between my fingers, gathering into the shape of a dagger above my palm. The energy swirled and rippled as I held it in place. Then, I focused my intent and squeezed, not with my body but my will.
Wisps broke free from the construct, but hundreds of repetitions had made this step second nature. I went slow to ensure perfection, but it was no longer the all-encompassing mental effort it had been months ago.
Soon, I reached the point where I had failed for months. The construct felt sturdy and stable, but I knew if I relaxed, it would fall apart within minutes rather than the days that even a poor effort at permanency might allow. Rather than release my grip or cut off my mana, I gathered up more and pushed it into the dagger.
It was unintuitive, a step I had taken only through watching one of the initiates preparing a meal in one of the common areas. The man had boiled away too much liquid, leaving the product inedible, and that had led me to a realization.
Skill and control helped bridge the gap, but permanency required sheer volume above all else. You did not need just enough mana to form the construct. Instead, you needed to push in as much as possible until the entire thing became stable.
How it worked remained opaque, but that could wait. I would discover that secret sooner or later.
Aether flooded into the dagger, filling in the blade not unlike molten iron might fill a mold. I felt it grow denser, sturdier, and more real in my senses. Pressure built in my mind, and the first signs of strain started to creep into my body. Then, the construct snapped into place.
The dagger dropped into my palm hilt-first, landing with a soft thud. I glanced down, turning the weapon over in my fingers. The entire thing was a uniform deep-green shade, dark enough that it might appear black in shadows. The edge and point looked razor sharp, the guard curved at the ends, and the grip was just long enough for my hand.
My testing had found several bizarre traits, not the least of which was an extraordinary weight to the material. This dagger was at least three times the weight of a steel blade of comparable size, and I saw no reason to expect larger constructs would be different.
I pushed those musings aside and held the blade up, turning to face each member of the Order in the room.
Most looked indifferent, though a few leaned forward with more focused expressions. Permanency was a rare talent, even among forgemasters. Even fewer could boast such skill at my age. Of course, none of them had channels strong enough to spend hours each day training, but these masters had no way of knowing that particular detail.
When it seemed each of the Speakers had their fill, I closed my eyes and reached into the dagger. All it took was a single, sharp tug to disrupt that equilibrium and break the construct apart into raw Aether.
Power exploded out, and I grabbed it, losing only a portion of the energy. I could have used Aether from my core, but reusing mana from my construct felt more impressive. This was a test of my talents with alteration, after all.
Aether swirled around me, held at shoulder height under my will. I closed my eyes and focused, splitting the mana into seven orbs, each the size of my fist. They spun slowly in place, gradually smoothing out as I molded each into as perfect a shape as I could manage.
I allowed them to orbit my body once before reaching into the first. It shifted smoothly into a perfect cube with crisp corners and edges. The second changed into an elongated cylinder, the third into a tetrahedron, and the fourth into a diamond.
One by one, I altered each of the seven into their own distinct shape. It was slow, exacting work, and those brief pangs in my head worsened into a distinct throbbing pressure. By the seventh, I had to grit my teeth to avoid grimacing.
I opened my eyes to see seven glittering shapes rotating around me, each near-perfect to my eyes. This demonstration had taken several times as long, but a few more Speakers looked more intrigued. Not impressed necesarily, but not unimpressed either.
However...every face had the same undercurrent of doubt. They had seen me fail, and none thought I could do enough to pass these trials. None believe I could impress them.
They would regret that doubt if I had my way.
I took a deep breath and reached into my pocket to pull out an iron cube. It was cheap, impure, and about the size of an apple, which made it good for practice and reinforcement demonstrations but not much else.
"Honored Keeper and Speakers, please forgive me. I remain unable to reinforce physical materials despite my best efforts. My Aether appears incapable of the skill, and because of this, I cannot demonstrate that skill," I said, meeting each of their eyes as I spoke.
Keeper Yorish took it in stride, nodding once with pity in his eyes. I hated that look.
"Then I fear we must fail you once more, young initiate," Yorish said, nodding to me, "Please follow the disciple back to the entrance hall, and you may—"
"Apologies for the interruption, honored Keeper, but you misunderstood," I said, holding the cube higher, "I said I could not reinforce. I did not, however, say I lacked a third skill to demonstrate. Please, watch closely and judge for yourselves."
They said something, but I ignored it as I pushed my awareness into the iron cube. My senses flooded through the metal, taking just seconds to note the flaws and impurities. I might be unable to fix these faults, but finding them was like peering through glass.
Reinforcement was simpler than some might expect. You pushed mana into physical materials, then used it to burn away impurities, smooth out cracks and faults, or bind the energy to the structure itself to grant it unnatural strength. It was a slow, laborious process that demanded exacting control and focus, but it was uncomplicated.
This particular cube was as low-quality as I might find, so full of impurities that even a novice would have something to fix. It would be so easy to burn away those bits of sand or rejoin those broken chunks if I had Wallace's affinity.
I did no such thing. Yes, my mana flowed into those flaws as if I planned to repair them, but that was where the similarities ended. I did not allow the mana to sink in but instead held it within my will as I focused my intent. Then, I pushed.
Magic responded to will, and mine was focused on a single task. I did not want to create something new out of nothing, as I had during the first test. I was not attempting to alter the cube into something new and different, as I might with alteration. My mana was not trying to reinforce, purify or refine, as most would for their third skill.
My intent was not to create, alter, or reinforce because that was not my ultimate goal. Not really. My future counterpart had said as much so long ago. I did not want to shift my destiny. I wanted to ensure it never came to pass, no matter what that took.
The cube shattered into countless pieces within my hand. I had thought to wrap my arm in Aether as a precaution, which proved prescient. Metallic shards bounced off my armor with near-imperceptible clinks, leaving me unharmed.
I paused for a moment, then held the sundered cube high overhead. Pieces spilled out from between my fingers as I shook my head. I met each Speaker's eyes again before finally meeting Keeper Yorish's gaze.
"This," I proclaimed, "Is my third fundamental skill. Destruction."
Comments
dash w
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Alex Perez
probably the best chapter in the series so far
Ruan Labuschagne
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