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Rise of the Archon- Book 2, Chapter 11
🕑 Added 2024-10-05 11:57:53 +0000 UTCConversation was non-existent across the next few days. No one seemed eager to bring up our failed hunt or the tragedy that had resulted. Instead, we each withdrew inward, staying busy however we could.
Sophia threw herself into training, often pushing her body past the point where it was safe. She would practice weaving and controlling lightning mana as we walked down the road, only stopping long enough to set up camp before vanishing for private training.
Simon studied day in and day out, speaking with me only on rare occasions. We still discussed things, usually enchanting or alchemy, but those conservations tended to die within minutes as Simon returned to reading or note-taking. The irony was not lost on me.
Amelia practiced her ice magic, though I could not say what she planned. So far, the only spells I had seen her use were her aura and something akin to my Mana Edge but with ice mana rather than Aether.
Leon took it the worst of the five of us. His warm, open demeanor vanished behind a stony wall as he drew inward. He rarely spoke, ate little, and sat atop his horse with blank eyes and a bent spine.
I tried to jar him from his malaise three times before eventually giving up. He would come out of it sooner or later, and truthfully, he might deserve to feel some guilt.
We had not caused the death of that woman's husband, but we had not helped. The drake had attacked their home because it was starving, a direct result of our actions. No, of my actions.
I should have thought of the drake's possible magical abilities. It was such an amateurish mistake that an actual mage worth a damn would never have made. And if I had been stronger, I could have finished off the beast in a single combat, injured as it was.
Still, I did not need to shoulder all of the blame. Leon could take some of the burden.
We traveled south, heading straight for the Estton holdings. Originally, we had planned several more stops, but our protracted stay in the border town had cut our time short. Still, there was one place we would pass that might be worth visiting.
I rode up beside Leon, clearing my throat softly. He did not react, so I tried again, louder this time. Still, he stared down, his eyes distant as if lost in thought. I reached out and touched his shoulder, finally earning a response.
Leon blinked, then turned towards me. He mustered a weak smile, "Ah, Vayne, sorry about that. What is it?"
I almost regretted disturbing him but pressed on with a forced smile of my own, "I know time is of the essence, but our path will bring us within only a half-day of the Titan's Valley. At the risk of being too bold, it might be worth our time to-"
"Yeah, sure, as long as the others agree," Leon replied, waving a hand with clear apathy.
"I...see." I said, "I apologize if I am overstepping, but are you okay?"
Leon did not respond, and I suspected he might not have heard me. His eyes had grown distant and downturned again, and his shoulders seemed to have shrunken inward.
I opened my mouth to ask again, then shut it and shook my head. Leon would speak to us when he was ready. And I would listen. But I could only do so much to help him when he refused to talk with me.
So, I pulled back on the reins and drew away from Leon to speak with the others, leaving the young noble to walk alone at the front of our party. And I tried not to notice how small he looked.
***
All Archmagi had a sobriquet. Often, this indicated their magical talents and skills. Umari the Ironwrought used his magic to create, strengthen, and reshape metal. Lyrei, the Spell-Breaker, could use mana to disrupt other mages, preventing them from casting their spells. Corrick the Unbroken crafted a hundred different flavors of defensive magic, and it was said he went the last thirty years of his life without a single injury.
However, most of these mages earned their nicknames at the same time as their title of Archmagus. Traditionally, the monarch granted both during a long, formal ceremony celebrating their ascension. The rest had become famous as masters or adepts, gaining these titles as a matter of course.
The sole exception was Torros. He had become the Titan-Bane, not as an Archmagus or as a master. No, the first whispers of that title began while he was still an apprentice.
The stories said that Torros was traveling through Ferris to help his countryman and hone his talents when he came upon a nightmarish scene. A dragon had made its way deep into Ferren's land and was set upon the countryside, pillaging and destroying unchecked.
Torros blasted the beast from the sky with a single spell, killing it with as much effort as Leon would a bird.
It was an appropriately titanic feat. Three of us had failed to kill a drake with poisons, traps, and an ambush on our side, while Torros slayed a true dragon with one attack.
While I doubted it was quite as effortless in reality, the facts remained that Torros killed a beast some masters would fail to best. And it was far from the only one of its kind that Torros slayed during his life.
Torros became a bulwark, holding our eastern border against any and all threats. As his powers grew, Torros pushed further. No single mage since the Founders expanded Ferren territory as much as the Titan-Bane. And no mage in written history could claim a feat quite as impressive as his duel against an elder dragon.
Legends claimed the battle lasted three days and nights before Torros finally slayed the beast. Again, I suspected that part was fiction, and again, it did not matter. No mage had ever slayed an elder dragon single-handedly, not even the Founders.
And now we stood where Torros had accomplished that legendary feat.
I knew Sophia had learned the same spell as Torros. He famously passed down all of his knowledge, after all. But, face to face with the aftermath of Torros' magic, it was hard to imagine the two spells shared anything except their element.
A valley stretched before us, thousands of feet across and long enough that it would take hours to cross. It was triangular in shape, narrowing to a single point where Torros must have cast his spell. The valley's walls were towering, clearly unnatural, but with rounded edges thanks to erosion over the years. I could see deep grooves and cuts along their faces as if a thousand hands had dug into the earth before dragging their fingers through it.
At the bottom of the valley was a deep lake, where it was said the dragon's body still lay. Some legends claimed it held a portion of the monster's strength and that those who stole a piece of its body would gain some of its might.
I doubted both claims based on simple logic. The body of an elder dragon was much too valuable to leave to rot...but I still added the valley to a mental list to revisit later. When I had more time. And when I had a means to illuminate the depths of the lake. I did not usually fear water, but diving into its pitch-black depths sent a shiver down my spine.
We stood at the valley's edge, and for a time, no one spoke. I spared a glance at Sophia, who looked down at the scar with a complex expression. She noticed my examination, meeting my eyes for a few seconds before inclining her head just a fraction.
I could not say what that look meant. Was she acknowledging what she might become one day? Asking for my help? Simply returning my attention? Sophia's inner thoughts remained a puzzle I did not care to solve.
Leon took a few steps closer to the edge, peering down into the valley. I watched as his back straightened, and he turned towards us, looking between our faces in turn. Something in his eyes had changed as if he had aged years in just a few days.
"When I was a child," Leon said, "I dreamed of becoming a lord. But I didn't think about the realities involved. I didn't think that people might-"
Leon's voice caught, and he shook his head before continuing, "That man's death is my fault. But I can do better. I have to do better. And all I can ask is that you help me."
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Leon walked past me and headed back down the incline where we had tied up our horses. And though he did not quite stand up straight, there was a firmness to his steps. While I could not say if he was back to normal, I could hope.
***
On the eve of returning to the Estton's, I retrieved my notebook, enchanting supplies, and a wrapped bundle, laying each beside me before opening my notes and flipping to the pages on enchantments.
When I first crafted my shielding vambrace, I had thought it a poor enchantment. Workable but crude, inefficient, and mildly dangerous. Simon had revealed that poor was too kind a word.
It had taken Simon five minutes to deduce that the object would degrade at an accelerated rate. He had been kind, noting that I had done a passable job with my existing skills, which sounded damning by faint praise.
I had initially assumed this flaw was due to my Aether. The element tended to break things after all, and Simon agreed this likely played a role. However, he suspected the lion's share of the damage came from a failing on my part rather than a shortcoming of my magic.
As Simon explained, runes acted as magical "hot spots," focal points where mana flowed most strongly in an object. This flow was crucial, as too much in any one location caused strain, which would eventually break the object altogether.
It was a relatively advanced concept not taught to first-years because their mana was not powerful enough for it to matter and because most would not attempt enchanting on their own.
Beyond that, the crude nature of my shield likely came down to the number of runes. I had the right idea that fewer runes could work with enough willpower behind them, but that was the sort of thing a master could do. While I was likely a decent enough enchanter for my age, I was no master.
Simon's proposed version originally contained six runes designed to help gather, hold, shape, and compress my Aether into a shield. It was a simple, clean, and efficient design that he estimated would last at least three months, even with my Aether.
As I reviewed the drawing, I felt a familiar sting of envy and respect in equal parts. Then, I set it aside and got to work.
I unwrapped the bundle to uncover two matching vambraces. Each was sized to fit me and consisted of a smooth, curving metal surface mounted atop a leather and cloth bracer. When worn, the steel would sit on the outside of the forearm, protecting the wearer from weapons. In my case, it also provided an ideal surface upon which to bind an enchantment.
With nothing left but the enchanting proper, I drew out my tools and started carving.
I began carving the first of the six runes, a sweeping symbol with sharp edges representing the idea of "gathering" something. In this case, it would gather my Aether into one place and ideally do so as efficiently as possible.
Usually, I would need five minutes to etch the marking, but I worked slowly, double-checking my work to ensure as few mistakes as possible. I had also altered the runes marginally, personalizing them to disguise their purpose, which stalled the work more. When I finished the first rune, I moved to the next, symbolizing "holding."
Hours passed as I worked. I stopped a dozen times to review my notes or examine the vambrace for any flaws while I could still fix them. But soon, I had all six carved into the metal and ready for the actual enchantment process.
Pouring in the silver and binding mana to the runes took hours longer. I had to drain my core twice along the way and spent roughly half my enchanting supplies in total. But finally, with just hours left until sunrise, I held the finished product in my hand.
I twisted it in the candlelight and smiled. Six silver runes shone against dark gray steel with the faintest flicker of green glinting off them. I could sense my mana, bound tightly into it, and admired the flowing, graceful markings. It had taken me hours, but it would be worth the effort if the vambrace worked as I hoped.
While I wanted to try it immediately, I decided to sit down first. I could rest my eyes for a few minutes, then run a few tests on the new enchantment.
The next thing I knew, I heard the sound of my friends breaking down camp outside. I opened my eyes and sighed, glancing over to see Cat staring at me with a look that might have been amusement.
"Yeah, I know," I murmured, "Never 'rest your eyes' when you are exhausted."
Cat predictably yawned before padding through the tent flap. I rolled my eyes, stood, and slipped the vambrace onto my right arm before packing the rest of my possessions and following the feline.
Testing my new enchantment would have to wait until we reached the Estton holdings. And hopefully, said testing would not involve defending myself from an enraged duke.
