Chapter 28.5:

  Lady Lane Copperscript, head of the Lira branch of the Enchanter’s Guild was not an unobservant woman. She caught the tension in the young guild officer – so elevated specifically so she could oversee the work at the quarry rift. Lady Lane Copperscript, however, incorrectly interpreted her subordinate’s hesitation as fear of House Rodrigo.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “You, what was your name?”

  “Violet, milady,” said the guild member.

  “Violet, you were there for the rift inspection. I assume you performed a check on the enchantments. What report did you give?”

  At this Violet began to sweat. She cleared her throat, her eyes darting to the door, then to the secretary, and finally back to the branch leader.

  “I couldn’t detect any anomalies, milady.” Of course, she couldn’t detect anything at all. However, that wasn’t part of the report she had delivered, and the report is what she was sticking with. Violet watched as the branch leader’s face pinched and her voice sharpened.

  “Who do those backwater, new-step nobles think they are? The lady has some meagre talent with script smithing and suddenly she’s an authority on guild affairs? Some uppity common-borne gets raised to 4th Step and now even her pre-pubescent spawn think they’re enchanting authorities.” Violet flinched at the harsh rebuke, but Lady Lana – a woman from a branch family of generational 4th Step nobility – paid it no mind as she continued her tirade. “We even humored their child’s ramblings, and what did we find?” She turned to Violet.

  “Nothing?”

  “Nothing,” the Lady Copperscript agreed, waving her hand at the secretary. “Bring it here Alvin,” she said. Gesturing for the man to bring the missive forward. Once it was in her hands, she took her pen and scrawled two words across the margin: ‘false alarm’.

  “Send it back,” she ordered, thrusting the parchment toward the secretary.

  The man hesitated. “How shall I file the local copy-”

  “It’s a non-issue” the lady waved her hand. “Do not waste more of my time on this. Violet, you too are dismissed.”

  Alvin bowed and obeyed, exiting the office with Violet trailing behind him. As she was passing the man’s desk she turned.

  “Sir, will it really be okay?” Her voice was low but earnest as she faced the secretary. Alvin just shook his head.

  “That is above our station and out of our hands. Do yourself a favour and keep your head down. Something about this situation has her unusually unhappy, and you don’t want to be in casting range if it becomes a problem.”

  “Oh, okay. Thank you,” Violet said, walking away with her head bent. The secretary filed away the capital missive then sent off the reply to Central. He marvelled for a moment at the device that allowed them to instantly send messages over long distances. It was one of Lady Sela’s devices, relying on spatial enchantments and some of house Rodrigo’s proprietary script work. Alvin just sighed and decided to take his own advice, putting the entire ordeal out of his head.

  As far as he was concerned, it was way above his station and entirely out of his hands. The reply was dispatched, carrying Lady Lane’s reply straight to the capital.

  ~

  Back at the keep, the workshop was warm with the quiet hush of two people entirely comfortable in the quiet of their mutual industry. Aria was perched at the edge of her seat, her legs dangling, and fingers working carefully through the fabric. Small, neat stitches lined the cuff of the sock she had upgraded to.

  Eli leaned close over his own work. The construction of the leather pouch was almost complete, the bindings were done in a mana dense reagent know as rune-cord. Everything was prepared, he simply had to connect the woven and etched enchantments, anchor the disparate scripts, and complete the actual ‘stasis’ portion of the project, something that would require him to tap into his time magic.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  For a while Eli contented himself with double, triple and quadruple checking his work, however he knew, sooner or later he would have to use that affinity. It was simply too powerful of a tool to ignore.

  For a moment he reached for it, felt it thrumming in his center, and radiating from his pool. It was a familiar yet disorienting affinity to channel, but he had done it thousands upon thousands of times before.

  Time burned.

  His pool ignited as the mana rose, spread, seeped like acid into his channels and-

  The smell of ash and dust in the air mixed with the iron tang of blood to create a cloying, revolting concoction. It glued itself to his lungs and made breathing more of a question than a reflex. What had once been the even terrain of well-maintained city streets was now a ruined rocky mess that would turn any unprotected feet into bloody meat, and made navigation a painful, treacherous process.

  Eli could hear the battle as it raged on around him. The screams of the enraged, the battle-lost, and the dying. The sound of rubble hitting stone, earth, and the living. The tromping of hoofs, of charging feet, of combatants and survivors alike fleeing or shuffling dazed through the mounting carnage.

  The amount of mana being flung through the air created a dense morass of ambient energy that crackled through the air and pressed invisible but dense against his skin. It made everything feel both more and less real.

  He was leaning against what was left of a wall, the top having come down around him as he crouched, spent and recovering while the never-ending slaughter raged around him. He was alive through sheer luck, stubborn determination, and the unhesitating sacrifice of those already fallen.

  People who loved him. People he had loved.

  In one hand he held a dagger. Something he was proficient but not excellent at wielding. In his other arm he held a body.

  His name had been Ezra. He was a cousin on his mother’s side. One of his uncle’s children who had managed to make it into Centris Academy the year after Eli. He was a reservoir. Eli’s reservoir. His best friend and staunchest ally. His first true partner in the world. Now he was dead.

  His body was still warm in Eli’s arms as the young mage, not yet 30 years of age sat in the ruined city of a small island country the Empire had declared a target.

  There, in the rubble of some common family’s simple home, as the elements of nature were wielded with the same skill and brutality of a soldier’s blade above, and on the ground below lives were reaped with all the solemnity of a farmer’s harvest, Eli wept.

  In his chest, the hollow ache of a severed bond resonated through him like grief made manifest. With Ezra’s loss, he was abruptly, painfully, viscerally, less. It hurt. It hurt! It hurt, it hurt, it hurt it hurt ithurtithurtit-

  “Eli?” Aria’s voice was like being plunged abruptly into warm water after sitting in the snow.

  The time aspected mana he had been channeling was wrenched back and slammed into his core in a sensation so unpleasant he had to cup his mouth to keep himself from throwing up.

  “Eli are you okay?” She asked again. Eli in turn took a few deep, steadying breaths as he shoved the memory into that nowhere place inside himself where such memories seemed to accumulate.

  Seven years and centuries. The thought swirled through his head, not for the first time. However, this time there was none of the initial awe for the grand feat of magic that was his current existence.

  Aria gave him his moment, and he took it with all the dignity he could muster. When he was sure his voice would stay stable, and the contents of his stomach would remain inside his body, he spoke.

  “Hey, Ari, all done?” He asked. His friend looked at him for a while before conceding to his deflection.

  “Yeah, all done,” she said, holding up her sock with a small smile on her face. Eli reached over and grinned back. He ignored the feeling of the mana rebelling in his channels. He was the master of his body, not the other way around.

  His body eventually settled down as he guided her through the sequence of activating the enchantment on her own. It was a simple durability script, and one she had to use a crystal to activate as she was not awakened and couldn’t manipulate or manifest mana. However, it was all her. From the stitching to the activation, it was her work alone.

  “These are really good, Ari,” Eli praised. “Your first enchantment, how do you feel?” Eli asked. Aria just looked at the pair of socks, then at her friend – and he truly was her friend, wasn’t he – then back to her very durable, very comfortable pair of enchanted socks.

  She had enchanted them. Her fingers had placed each stitch, her hands had copied out each part of the script just so. It was precise, neat, all her handiwork. She had done something of value. She had made something good. Eli had said it, and he was a noble, so he knew these things. He had never lied to her, and now he was telling her that something she made was good. She was useful.

  She dropped both socks, buried herself in his arms, and wept.

  The stasis pouch could wait, Eli decided as he carried his friend away from the room. He could wrestle his mana some other time. Besides, he was sure his mother wouldn’t mind activating it for him if he asked.