Corvis Eralith
Two days after Pitrah's successful referendum, I was back again in Xyrus City, the Magic Capital of the World.
"I have gained all the necessary information from Kai Crestless," I informed Cynthia, as I sat in her study donning the visage of her protégé Leòn Leurenzian, but behaving more like Eralith Asclepius, current Highprince of the Asclepius Clan.
"From what I have learned, House Wykes works with an Alacryan known as Draneeve and is directly involved with the Alacryan spy network in Dicathen. To what extent House Wykes has a role in this, however, is still a mystery."
The Director of Xyrus Academy and her wyvern bond remained in total silence as they listened to my words, be that from fear, respect, or both I couldn't tell.
I raised the cup of hot liquid Cynthia had offered me to my lips. It was something akin to green tea, but sweeter and with a vague aftertaste of peppermint.
"I am already planning what to do about this, but I would like to hear your opinion and knowledge of House Wykes," I said, raising my eyes from the drink. "As Director of Dicathen's greatest magical institute, I am sure you have had your fair share of interactions with the Wykes family."
"Of course I have... Leòn," Cynthia said, as if addressing me as Lord, or any other title befitting an Asuran lord, scared her.
Her voice was careful, measured, the voice of someone who had learned to weigh every word before speaking.
"I have had the pleasure of having the oldest son of House Wykes as a student of Xyrus Academy, he graduated not even a decade ago, and I have had the displeasure of interacting with his father more times than I wanted to."
I nodded. Bairon and Otis Wykes—one a Lance of Sapin, the other the Lord of Fiery House Wykes. Two sides of the same coin, both dangerous in their own ways.
"Tell me about this oldest son," I said, carrying an apple—one of the many treats on the coffee table between us—to my mouth and taking a bite.
The fruit made a melodious crisp under my teeth, and juice filled my mouth, the taste of it mild compared to Elenoi apples, but not unpleasant. It was an Ashbercrisp, I realized.
I rarely ate this kind of Sapinese apple; they came from the orchards of the rural town of Ashber in northern Sapin.
"Bairon Wykes was the best student of his year during all his studies at the academy," Cynthia started, her voice taking on the measured cadence of a report. "He was a battle mage, but almost all nobles choose that path for their scions. What truly makes Bairon Wykes one of the best students ever graduating from my academy was his mastery over lightning magic."
"Obviously to His Great Lordship lightning magic is as normal as breathing, but for humans it is a sign of great talent," Avier intervened, his owl form perched on the armrest of Cynthia's seat.
"Yes... I know," I said, embarrassed by the wyvern's behaviour, but I concealed it very well.
There weren't many Dicathians able to use lightning magic in the novel: Arthur himself, Bairon, and Hester Flamesworth. I myself have never personally met a lightning mage in my life, even if I was sure many in my flock were able to use it.
"What else? A single deviant element, while noteworthy for a student, isn't something surprising," I said, keeping my tone neutral.
"Obviously, Leòn," Cynthia said, a hint of her old confidence returning. "Bairon has also been the first and only student who has managed to be Student Council President for all his six years of studies."
Student Council President. Tessia too had taken that role during her stay at the academy in the novel's timeline. Bairon too had taken that role... I wondered what that could tell me about the man behind the title.
"He was a model student, I take it," I commented.
That pretty much confirmed my take on Bairon's character: someone very adherent to the rules, and to his House's rules even more so.
"Academically, yes. As an upperclassman, Bairon Wykes even started teaching the basics of fire magic to first-years," Cynthia sighed, her expression growing distant. "Behaviourally... he had a very short temper when dealing with other students, often abusing his powers as Student Council President."
That was a very Wykes-like thing to do.
"A bully, you tell me," I said. "A bully in a position of power and blessed with unnatural talent. Have you done anything about it?"
"I wish..." Cynthia continued, her sigh deepening. "It wasn't until recently that I have enough power to truly make strong decisions against noble students. For many years, I have been forced to strike deals with Dicathian nobility for Xyrus Academy to continue existing."
"I guess this is where you talk to me about Otis Vayhur Wykes," I pointed out. "The lord of House Wykes."
"There is not much to say about the man," Cynthia started, her voice carefully neutral. "He is the classic entitled noble, like many others: rich and powerful, almost as much as the king and queen themselves. I can see why he—"
Cynthia stopped herself, the curse placed on her by Vritra killing the words she wanted to speak. Her face contorted, a flicker of pain and frustration across her face.
"We need to get that curse out of our way," I said, my voice firm. "Luckily, I have come prepared today. Avier, could you open the balcony's door?"
The wyvern didn't wait a single moment and did as I said, his beak going to open the balcony connected to the Director's office. The glass doors swung open, letting in a gust of cool air.
I whistled, using wind magic to let my mana signature travel with the air currents.
Soleil, Doctor of the Asclepius Clan, in her robin form glided inside the office, landing on the coffee table between me and Cynthia. Her beak came down and she pecked a biscuit, eating it with the casual grace of someone who had all the time in the world.
Lately, Soleil had told me she had been busy aiding Tessia with her Beast Will; it seemed the Woods Wide Web was starting to give problems to my sister.
Luckily, Grandpa was helping her integration; whatever that Beast Will was, the "Forest's Will" as named by Tessia, she would be fine.
"Soleil, does this seem the way to come inside?" I asked the robin, a hint of amusement in my voice.
"Lord Mordain's first rule on how to approach lessers is to not scare them," Soleil said, ignoring Avier and Cynthia, hopping into my lap. "That is: not showing up in the place they feel the most safe in and making their whole world crumble in front of their eyes."
She was speaking of how I had approached Cynthia, right? Of course she was. The memory of that first confrontation still lingered, a reminder of the fear I had inadvertently sown.
"What exactly has Chantelle told you?" I questioned.
"Nothing. She chanted your deeds with all of the flock," Soleil said, her tone carrying a hint of pride.
"You are here to work," I reminded her, taking the Asura between my hands and showing her to Cynthia. "This is the doctor of my Clan I was talking to you about. Soleil Asclepius. She is here to help you with your problem."
Cynthia looked at me and the talking robin with wide eyes. All her life in Alacrya she had seen the Asuras as unreachable gods: the Vritras as her dark, tyrannical Sovereigns, and the Asuras of Epheotus as the enemies of her masters.
The scene that had just unfurled between me and Soleil must have shaken her understanding of the world a little. It didn't do for Avier, who remained in religious silence.
"Thank you... Lady Soleil," Cynthia said, bowing her head deeply, something that was almost painful to see in an old lady like her. The gesture was heavy with the weight of decades of fear and hope.
The robin freed herself from my grasp and in a burst of light transformed into her Narmanakaya, the humanoid aspect of the Asuras.
"I am Soleil Asclepius, Cynthia," the blonde Phoenix said, offering a reassuring smile to Cynthia as if she was a child... which was true, considering how ancient Soleil was. The oldest Asclepius alive, if Agrona had truly killed Mordain. "I promise you I will break the curse the Vritra Clan put on your soul."
I noticed Soleil was avoiding looking at Avier, while the wyvern, sensing the otherworldly nature of the Phoenix woman, kept himself distanced from her.
"You think you can do it without drawing attention?" I asked.
"I won't disappoint you, milord," Soleil promised, embers crackling to life above her palms.
It was the same technique she used as a robin to relieve fatigue from me or Tessia, but then those embers flared into a rich, golden flame that were almost hypnotic in their dance.
"What's that?" I asked, curious about the mana arts of my Clan.
"Rohavala, the Healing Flame of the Samsara," Soleil "explained" as she approached Cynthia. "I was taught the healing arts of the Phoenixes by Mordain Asclepius himself, Cynthia. You have not to worry. If there is something that can break Tamasa, it's my flame."
"Tamasa, what is that now?" I asked, hating when Asuras continued to use those words in the unfathomably old language that was Oldest Asuran. "You know what? Do your work. I will ask Evascir about an Oldest Asuran dictionary."
There was another matter I wanted to address, a more personal one, but maybe I could turn it useful to my other projects.
For now, however, I would leave Cynthia Goodsky in the good hands of Soleil.
—
The Helstea Mansion, the estate in Xyrus City that served, in another timeline, as the home of Arthur Leywin during his residence on the floating island, stood in front of me.
The building was horseshoe-shaped, two stories high with a decent garden behind, just like most of Xyrus City's estates.
I wished to talk with Lilia Helstea after what had happened in the warehouse of the auction house of her father.
I was still puzzled by why she was there, and I had come up with only one single answer that could satisfyingly explain that: she was trying to awaken as a mage, using the mana-filled artifacts in the Helstea Auction House's collection to help her in that achievement.
I rose the stairs that led to the manor's entrance. "I should find a map of Xyrus City and study its topography..." I murmured, but I shook my head.
Job first. Pleasure later.
I wanted to offer Lilia Helstea the chance to become my subject (yes, it sounded very, very bad) in my attempts to satisfy Dawsid Greysunders's request of making him a mage again.
I needed to develop a reliable and highly effective mage-making... thing; I still needed to work on the details.
While Lilia Helstea would serve as my test subject for people below the age of usual awakening, I also needed someone that served as a subject for a later age, but I already had the perfect candidate in mind: Filbrass Torserian, the young dwarf from Pitrah.
The awakening process I had used as a baby and then taught Alwyn, who had taught Tessia in return, was fallible and highly inefficient.
Arthur had used fire magic to "ignite" the sparks that could potentially develop into a mana core. I had used REmould on both myself and Alwyn, and maybe REstringify too—that event was still a mystery despite all the Insight I had gained since. As for Tessia, she had had Soleil's help.
Raising my fist, I knocked on the Helstea Mansion's door.
I feel like Arthur after he returned to his family after staying four years in Zestier, I said in my head. I don't even know why.
To make sure I was heard, I used sound magic to make my knock reverberate through the walls of the Helstea Manor, the Article of Freedom destroying every spatial limit of my door-knocking.
The sound echoed, carrying through the building like a gentle thunder.
Soon, the inhabitants of the Helstea Mansion came answering the door. Or rather—
A short greige-haired girl, five years old at most, pushed the door open, her forehead sweating from the struggle.
Noticing her—Eleanor Leywin, I immediately recognised—I took the door myself and pulled it.
"Hello!" Eleanor greeted me, standing on her tiptoes for some unknown, childish reason. "What do you want?"
"Ellie, is that how you greet a visitor?!" A new voice said and, lifting the young Eleanor from the floor, her mother, Alice Leywin, came to the door. "We should enroll you in some etiquette school."
"Sorry for my daughter's behaviour, young man," Alice said, her voice warm and apologetic. "Were you the one to knock the door like that?"
"Yes, miss," I replied, noticing as many more people approached the entrance; it seemed my Freedom-enhanced knock had given its effects.
"Leòn!" Vincent Helstea greeted me with surprise and pleasure in his voice. "I truly wished to see you again! I have to repay the money you gave me!"
"Mr. Helstea, I have given the money to you because I—" I was interrupted by the human merchant.
"I absolutely can't accept money from Director Goodsky's protégé!" Vincent exclaimed in that scandalised tone I had already heard more than enough times. "Especially not after she has sung your praises and asked me—and I quote—to 'spoil you as she can't do it personally.'"
What has Cynthia told Vincent? I asked myself. The man had probably contacted the Director to see if I was telling the truth after what I had done to his warehouse, and the former spy must have spoken very positively of me.
And, more importantly, what kind of merchant refused free money? Looking at Vincent, however, I could see a glint in his eyes. The light of a merchant sniffing opportunity.
In the novel Vincent had wished for Lilia to become a mage also because it would give the Helstea family more prestige.
He probably hoped to entangle the protégé of Cynthia Goodsky with his business—Reynolds had suggested that himself last time I went to the auction house. Vincent needed a win for his operations that could match Elder Rahdeas and Finn Warend.
"Anyway," I said. "I would like to apologize to your daughter personally for what happened last time. Lilia was her name, right? I am really flattered for what happened, and while the money and the beast core might get me forgiven by you, I don't think the same is true for your daughter."
My words left Vincent and Alice stunned; it was Eleanor who spoke first.
"Bring her a new doll!" the innocent girl beamed ecstatically.
"That's very thoughtful of you," Alice said. "Though I wonder what happened."
"Nothing to be worried about—all is already forgiven, Leòn!" Vincent said. "But sure, if you want to apologize to Lilia, please, come inside. I would gladly have you as a guest."
I entered the Helstea Mansion, its entrance hall being so familiar despite me never having seen it before.
For an instant, I could swear I saw an auburn-haired boy, reincarnation of a king from a dystopian Earth, walk down the stairs to reach me.
The one who had been stolen a life in Dicathen, condemning Grey's soul to be Agrona's puppet, his tool to reincarnate the Legacy only to fail at my hand.
Did that mean I had condemned Grey to death, now that the High Sovereign had no use for him? Better not to think about it.
"This way, Leòn!" Vincent said, making a gesture with his hand to signal me to follow him, and so I did.
—
"Lilia, dear!" Vincent called, knocking on a door which I presumed was Lilia's room. "There is someone looking for you. You have heard the... quite powerful knock on the door, right?"
The door was opened, and the young Lilia Helstea appeared. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and she blinked against the light of the corridor, her eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness.
"Who—" Her eyes landed on me, and she almost jumped on her feet. "Y-you?!"
"Hello," I said, waving my hand as Vincent restlessly moved behind us.
"You want something to drink or eat, Leòn?" The merchant asked. "I am going to tell my wife we have a guest right away. You two speak as much as you like."
Vincent hurriedly—and awkwardly—went to take refreshments, I guessed.
"Your father is... unique," I joked, trying to make the mood lighter. "He even wants to give me back four hundred gold coins."
"Dad... is Dad," Lilia sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. "He has his quirks."
"I surely believe it," I chuckled. "Lilia. I told Mr. Helstea I am here to apologize for what happened in the auction house—I must have caused you quite the scare."
"A-about that..." Lilia said, stumbling over her words and lowering her gaze. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have been there to begin with. You shouldn't have come all the way here just for that."
"That's because I didn't," I said, causing Lilia to raise her head in surprise. "I am actually here for a whole different reason, in truth."
Lilia blushed—what was she thinking?
"A whole different reason?! What do you mean?" Lilia asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and confusion.
"You see, I have a theory for what you were doing in the warehouse of the Helstea Auction House," I replied, my calmness completely antithetical to Lilia's nervousness. "You were attempting to awaken as a mage, am I right?"
Lilia's face turned from red to normal as she shook whatever thought was in her head.
"How did you figure it out from just seeing me once?!" Lilia asked, stupefied, genuine wonder in her voice. "And without even speaking to me!"
"Call it intuition," I winked. Intuition, or knowing about a version of you Fate had engraved in my head, I wanted to say. "So, I can take it as true?"
"Yes, but why do you want to know it?" Lilia asked, her voice cautious.
"I have an offer, or a request, for you, Lilia," I said politely. "I would like you to help me develop a way to make mages. Artificially."
"Really?! But why me!" Lilia exclaimed, not doubting for even a single moment what I was saying. That was another perk of working with someone as young as her, she believed in the impossible.
Was that considerable manipulation? I didn't know.
Filbrass would listen to me because I was the Lord Throneholder asking him for a favour, but I needed someone who genuinely believed in my project. Lilia was just perfect for this as I would also fix the fact Lilia wouldn't become a mage in this timeline without Arthur.
It was a matter of little concern, but if the chance arrived, I would gladly repeat the same good deeds Arthur had made in his life, and Lilia was one of them.
"I mean..." Lilia continued. "You are a student of Xyrus Academy and obviously someone quite important if Dad is making a fool of himself around you! Why me out of all?"
I thought about it for an instant, making it seem like I was actually pondering an answer, a finger under my chin.
"You are in the age range where no one awakens as a mage," I started my list. Lilia was still too young to be a mage. "You are obviously interested in becoming one, as you admitted so yourself. Your father, while a noble, is a minor one and from a line of non-mages—that helps me to develop a reliable system to awaken people."
It was easy choosing an easy subject: the son of a mage, or the scion from a noble house of magicians, would have been useless. Lilia was necessary to prove my methods would work even with people that normally would never awaken as mages.
Considering Dicathen as a whole, only one out of a hundred children became a mage, and most of them were mediocre at best: reaching the orange core if they were lucky, or the yellow one if they were both talented, resourceful and lucky.
There were only a handful of mages above the yellow core, most people could see a yellow core mage at the light stage and call them the strongest person they have ever seen in their lives.
Even a slight improvement on that statistic could make a difference in the coming war. I had not nearly enough time to hope to match Alacrya's percentage of population with magic, but I had to work with what I had.
"And yes, I still feel in debt with you for what happened the other day," I said. "I hope this answers your question."
"How do we start?" Lilia asked, forcing the words out of her mouth as bravely as possible.
"I am still working on it," I said, causing Lilia's expression to turn from excited to dumbfounded. "But the hard part is done—recruiting subjects!"
"I don't think that's the hard part!" Lilia exclaimed.
Oh, trust me, it is, I said in my head. After all, I can just try again and again, spending as many loops as I need until I find the answer I am seeking.