"I do not wish to add anything to the Beasts of the Dungeon, thank you."
- The first and last entry of Archmage Horzo Kaelith.
Excerpt from The Beasts of the Dungeon
REPLACE WITH LINE BREAK p^o^q REPLACE WITH LINE BREAK
Horzo suppressed a sigh, willing his foot to stop tapping. Everyone but the continent's newest Archmage was already here, and somehow, the man was running late.
If I could teleport, I'd never be late for a thing in my life.
He breathed, letting go of the small surge of irritation. It was unbecoming, and dangerous besides. This would be their first proper meeting, and Horzo wished to make a good first impression.
That party in the palace didn't count. One 'hello, nice to meet you' did not, in fact, constitute a relationship. Which he would need, considering how their specialties could enhance one another.
Horzo shifted in his seat, straightening his cloak with an effort of will. The cloth obeyed like it always did, seeming to almost vibrate in excitement. How alien that feeling had been, once. Now it brought him peace.
The door on the side of the room opened, two fully armored figures stepping through. Horzo felt more than saw his own guards stiffen, their clothes whispering it to him, but Thunnos calmed them with a raised hand. The Prince nodded to him when Horzo glanced at the man, which didn't help much.
He'd insisted that Thunnos take his place in the seat he now sat in, as the Prince Primus of the Merchant Princes. Yet the man wouldn't hear of it, no matter their rules.
'The Prince Primus represents us, but you are an Archmage at a meeting between Archmages.' The man had said. Horzo didn't agree, but what could he do? Thunnos was Primus, and he himself wasn't even a Prince.
"Presenting King Marcus Sepsimus Lannoy, The Archmage of Unending Reach," the herald called, her voice ringing through the meeting room. "Presenting Queen Elenoir Marsennius, The Calamity's Bane. Hail."
The guards repeated the call, both his and everyone else's, but Horzo was more interested in the title. The last one, specifically, since he hadn't been aware that the Mirranian Queen had been awarded one.
Glancing at the Empress revealed nothing, and neither did Vistus. Likewise, neither of their guards had reacted like his own, and he pushed down a flush of embarrassment. Unlike The Irregulars, or Vistus' demons, neither his nor Marcus' guards had decades to build their reputation.
Yet the Mirranian Royal Guard looked, felt and acted like their equals, while Horzo's did not. Also unlike his guards, the Royal Guard had actually fought in the last Dungeon Break.
Horzo took a moment, breathing evenly and clearing his mind. It was irrelevant, and he would not embarrass the Princes by being intimidated.
"Apologies for our tardiness," the spatial Archmage began, sweeping into the room. The man's eyes glanced at the single chair available for his side, no others in sight. It was a room especially prepared for this meeting, after all, to ensure equality— "Vistus, would you mind?"
The man made a vague noise of agreement, and a second chair grew next to the first. Horzo blinked and the things had moved, placed perfectly side by side and with equal distance from the edge. Marcus sat, and the Queen's chair flickered back then under her. The woman rolled her eyes.
Horzo, meanwhile, was trying not to stare. Apparently, one chair per side was a much looser rule than he'd assumed. He thought about requesting another one himself, but the moment passed when the Empress spoke.
"Welcome," the woman greeted. If she was annoyed about him violating the rules, she didn't show it. "This meeting will establish and verify the preparations concerning the invasion of the Dungeon, as well as all details pertaining to it. Brandon?"
The Crown Prince of the Empire approached from where he'd been standing, an illusionary chair appearing for him to sit in. Horzo managed not to scowl, flicking his hand. Yet another chair appeared next to his own, this time made from cloth. Thunnos sat smoothly, and only Vistus seemed not to care about adding more furniture.
"I'll be coordinating the invasion," Brandon began, taking his seat. Fake or not, the chair held his weight with ease. Then again, 'fake' wasn't really a word that applied to the Empress, not when it concerned her illusions. "The Armor of Aversion grants me flight, which will allow me to scout and travel between the various ships, and my knowledge of the Dungeon is second to very few. Does anyone object?"
There was silence for a moment before the Queen spoke, her tone almost supernaturally even. "You have fought against Calamities, correct? I would know how you fared. Not to insult your skill, but the death of the Crown Prince will cripple an already wounded nation."
And her own was recently tied to it though the ducat, Horzo knew. The Crown Prince leaned forward on the table, his usually cheerful face drawn into a serious expression.
"I would be willing to spar, if that alleviates your concerns. While I can not claim to have killed a Calamity, single handed or otherwise, I have survived against nine."
The Queen nodded after a moment, glancing at her husband. Something passed between them, though what Horzo couldn't begin to guess at. The Empress continued after a moment. "No further objections? Then we shall move forward. Archmage Horzo, would you update us on the progress of your ships?"
"Of course," he replied, making sure none of his emotional state leaked through. Not his best skill, admittedly. "The fleet for the invasion is entering the final quality control phase. As requested, the interior has been left bare, leaving the possibility for spatial expansion. I will warn that the core, while stable, has to be excluded from any other type of magic, and that the ships have a strict weight limit."
The Spatial Archmage spoke up, tone unworried. "That won't be a problem. Weight stabilization is not so hard once the initial space restriction has been breached, at which point it ceases to be a problem. Likewise, excluding the core should be doable, assuming my admittedly brief examination during the Dungeon Break holds. And to cut a potentially long debate short, yes, I'm willing to spatially enhance the ships."
Horzo nodded, breathing an internal sigh of relief. That man wasn't the only one who could enlarge space, of course, but doing so to an area that was already thoroughly magically enchanted? He doubted anyone but the Empire's best could manage, and even then, not quickly.
"Thank you, both of you," the Empress said. "I trust you to schedule a time on your own. Moving on, supplies. There will be an approximate fifty thousand soldiers with the first fleet, another hundred thousand with the second. Their main priority will be to assist in killing flying Hounds that attack the ships and to secure any potential landing sites. Such a large number of troops requires water, food and equipment, all of which will be provided. Vistus has already started on creating a ten year supply of dry rations."
The Transmutation Archmage shrugged. "It's not fun, but I'll get it done. I still say it's redundant. I've got great respect for a regular man picking up a sword to fight the Dungeon, but their usefulness will be limited while inside the ships."
"We don't know what we're going to find down there," the Empress countered. "And we have the space. I'm not holding anything back, not with our survival at stake. So, the first fleet will be responsible for killing Calamities and gathering intelligence, the second to kill as many Hounds and Champions as possible. Second fleet is not to engage any Calamities that manage to get past the first. Whichever Archmage is currently on the surface will take care of them."
Meaning anyone but him, Horzo translated. He didn't mind. With the Gates allowing them to maintain sporadic but stable access no matter how deep they went, it made sense to always keep someone up here.
It would be rather ironic for humanity to die after having potentially found a solution.
The Mirranian Queen spoke up, shaking her hand side to side. "How many ships per fleet? Morale will be an issue if we keep people in the literal dark for too long."
"Six for the first fleet, fifteen for the second," Horzo answered. That was how many he'd been able to build. Well, how many cores he'd been able to build. Not like he was going to be crafting whole ships and decorating their insides, let alone all on his lonesome. "The Empress wishes to keep a number topside, should the worst happen."
"I did. Should the invasion fail and the Dungeon overruns humanity, I want to have options. No offense to the Parnanian people, but magically resistant undead are more manageable than endless Calamities."
The Queen did, in fact, seem to want to take offense. But after a long moment the woman nodded once, which Horzo found surprising. That one was not known for her great reservoirs of restraint, something that made her great, great fighting prowess all the more dangerous.
An evacuation would also only be buying them time, though no one was quite sure what Calamities would do when faced with the ocean. An endless, escalating war between them and the monsters that lived there was, apparently, the more optimistic outcome.
Horzo spent the next two hours enduring the meeting, though in truth it wasn't so horrible. A hundred details had to be decided upon, but few involved himself. It wasn't his army that would descend with the ships, but those of the Empire and Mirrania. It wasn't his supplies that needed to be decided upon, that was for Archmage Vistus to arrange.
He built the ships, and those would work. The sky itself would fail first. The rest was ultimately irrelevant to him.
Horzo stood when the meeting was at an end, nodding to the youngest Archmage and gesturing to the side. The man moved over without acknowledging the request, though that seemed more out of distraction than a desire to be rude.
When they joined, four faceless mages were with the man, and Horzo had the feeling they were watching him. It was an interesting bit of enchantment, that, and he could feel their cloaks rustling in silent glee. But interesting or not, those four could do little to him.
They dressed in that which fell under his domain. It would only take an effort of will to snap their necks, though what came after that would be far less in his favor.
"I have something I could use your opinion on," the Archmage began, derailing Horzo's own thoughts. The man reached into his bag, then kept reaching until most of his arm was gone, and retrieved a… stone cube? "This, as you might have guessed, is the School of Life."
He had not, in fact, guessed that. Horzo hummed and pretended to be unsurprised. "I suppose you wish for me to examine it?"
"The thought had crossed my mind," Marcus replied lightly. "I don't expect you to fix it, but I have benefited greatly from studying the artifact, and I see no reason to hoard that knowledge. Not from you, anyway."
The cube was handed over, which Horzo took. Then he nearly dropped the thing, because it was heavy. Not unbearably heavy, but the Archmage must be in better shape than he looked to handle it so casually.
His cloak twisted from his back to take the weight, holding the thing up to let him study it. Horzo clasped his hands behind his back, eyes narrowed. "Fascinating. It's not at all how I weave my own formations, but I can see the common root from which disciplines grew. How he managed this without individually controlling each strand, as I do, I can't begin to fathom. Would you mind if I take a copy?"
The man nodded slowly, so Horzo waved over one of his guards. The man brought a spool of thread with him, which promptly started unspooling itself. Horzo looked at the cube again, making sure not to focus on any individual detail, and filled the thread with his will.
A hundred threads became a thousand, splitting over and over again until each was ten times finer than a strand of hair. Horzo hummed to himself while guiding them into place, the structure of the School of Life soon coming together.
He ignored the magic, since it was nothing like how he enchanted, but the order to it was astounding. The language it told, how each function was separate yet one. A million letters creating a tapestry of meaning, one that he was more than happy to learn from.
The knot finished after a few silent minutes, after which both Vistus and the Empress had come to take a look. Horzo cleared his throat. "I'm done."
"You've created a… ball," the Mirranian Queen said, sounding unsure. She looked at her husband, who shrugged. "Cool."
Vistus snorted. "It is technically a ball, yes, but while it holds no magic, it is a complete copy of the heart of the School of Life. Horzo, friend, why has no one told me you were capable of this?"
"Or me, for that matter," the Empress added, looking almost hungry. Horzo wasn't sure what to say, because he hadn't exactly kept that a secret. "We simply must introduce you to—"
Thunnos interrupted before things could get out of hand, his smooth voice cutting through the excitement. "I'm afraid the Archmage has duties to return to, Empress. I'm sure something could be arranged in the future."
"Yes, quite," Horzo replied, a surge of relief flooding through him. "The ships won't build themselves. Marcus, how does the third day of next week work for you? To enhance the ships, I mean."
The man nodded in agreement, tilting his head in mild confusion. Horzo backed away without elaborating, handing the School of Life back to the Archmage, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief when his guards closed ranks around him. Hells but he hated being surrounded like that.
Thunnos joined him after a moment, the man's calming presence almost washing over him. "You really must work on that, my friend."
"I'll start with something less terrifying than the full attention of the four most dangerous people in the world," he shot back. Horzo paused. "Three. I'm pretty sure the Queen didn't really care."
The Primus snorted. "Fair enough. At least the Mirranian King seemed nice?"
"Generous," Horzo corrected, handing the torso-sized ball of thread to one of his assistants. The man held it like it was a newborn, though it was only a copy. "I'm not sure about nice. But Vistus seems to like him, and that man is a good judge of character. Anything else will have to be revealed by time."
Silence fell while they moved outside, the rest of his contingent of guards straightening. Three other groups were there, standing somewhat apart, but Horzo found his eyes drawn to the Royal Guards. Specifically, their mages.
The Mirranian Academy was something of a hot topic among the Imperial magical elite, and the same went for his own home. It was rising quickly, collecting knowledge and training its own staff, but that wasn't what Horzo found interesting.
He was very aware of how expensive it was to fund the magical arts, let alone a school. And yet, from all reports that he'd read, the Academy was actually making a profit. Part of that came from the ravenous desire of their own nobility, which had lacked proper enchanted equipment for a long time, but they even sold to the wider Empire.
And that man, the Archmage, controlled it every step of the way. From the sea monster extermination, to the processing of the corpses, and to the enchanting of the collected material. Hells, the man even profited from their sale.
The benefits of being King, Horzo supposed.
He shook his head, returning his attention to the Strada Gate.
A line of people were waiting in front of it already, more standing to the side for their assigned slot. The Gate network, to the surprise of absolutely no one, was popular. Massively popular. Trade caravans could move in days what would have taken months before, and those seeking work suddenly had the entire Empire open to them.
Military use was heavy, too, though more so for specialists than soldiers. But the level of demand was entirely moot, because the moment their party was spotted, the Gate was already being reconfigured to Atheron. It took a long minute, and the spatial mage appeared to be sweating, but soon enough the Gate flickered from matte black to invisible.
Horzo stepped through, and just like that he was home again. Thunnos spoke up once they had left the dome, passing an almost identical—if less busy—waiting area to that in Strada. "The other Princes will be eager to hear my report. Until tomorrow, my friend."
"Prince Primus," Horzo replied, bowing his head. The man waved it off with a laugh, leaving him alone. Horzo plucked his newest curiosity from where his guards were carrying it, stroking the cube of thread. "It's alright, pretty one. One day he'll get the hint. Now, let's get you a nice dry place to live."
He cleared his throat, glancing to see if his guards had heard him. They didn't appear to have, which was good. More rumors would help nobody. Horzo returned the cube, setting out towards his own laboratory.
Two dozen assistants were already at work when he arrived, rising to bow, but Horzo waved them off. He went deeper into the complex, passing rooms full of experiments, equipment and half-finished cores.
Horzo hesitated when he passed the second-to-last chamber, glancing inside. The massive core was still where it should be, pulsing softly, and he smiled in relief. Big Betty was fine, as she had been for months. Which, he could assure with full confidence, hadn't always been the case.
His so-called 'secret project' had had temperamental phases. Still, his aunt would have gotten a chuckle out of her namesake, he was sure. At eight foot nine, she had well-earned that nickname.
He placed the copy of the School of Life in the next chamber over, activating the wards with a thought. Glancing between it and Big Betty made him grab for paper, because he was pretty sure several foundational principles could apply from the former to the latter.
Horzo hummed as he worked, the quiet sounds of progress lulling him into peaceful productivity. This was home, this was his workshop, and this was where he belonged. Not ruling the Merchant Princes, not chasing the secrets of the Dungeon.
Here, in his workshop, quietly working away. That was where he was at peace.
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