by Andrew Rowe
Taelien’s eyes narrowed. “You—”
She raised her hands in a warding gesture. “I don’t steal any. They’re given freely, and they’re not complete souls. Just pieces. Whatever someone can spare.”
Taelien drew in a deep breath. “That’s still...”
“I know, I know. It’s not the kind of sorcery that most people approve of. But it’s in service of an important cause. One that may be necessary to keep the entire world from being destroyed.”
“Why? Did the worldmakers plan to destroy their own creation, like what happened with Rendalir?”
“No, nothing like that. We were more fortunate than they, at least.” Wrynn shook her head. “Instead, our makers chose to war with each other, both directly and through proxies — great armies of their creation. Humans, monsters, and colossal machines. Their last war left empires in ruins and divine corpses strewn across the planet.”
She sounded pained as she continued. “I wasn’t one of the ones that sealed them away — that was before even the time of your parents. It was the firstborn children of the makers, the ones you’d call the first generation of gods, that turned on the makers and caged them within deep within the world. On my continent, the firstborn trained our people to serve as living seals for the maker sealed there, as well as the terrible beasts that served him. I trained for many years with your father to become one of the seals.”
“Why not gather the strongest people we can and release it so we can defeat it more permanently?” Taelien’s hand drifted to his hilt subconsciously. “I’d help you fight him.”
Wrynn snorted. “Of course you would. I’m sure you’d love that. I would, too, in concept. But none of us would stand even the slightest chance. Last time a seal broke on one of the children of this maker, I fought it for a time to hold it at bay while it could be re-sealed. Your father and mother were with me, as well as your father’s first apprentice, and dozens of others of similar strength. It nearly obliterated us all in a matter of minutes.”
“But...my parents did survive that, didn’t they?”
“Sure, but only just.” She shook her head. “If it had been a maker, I don’t think any of us would have. It’s easy to assume that you’re strong when your only competition is what you see here on Mythralis. There are some truly powerful people here, like Aayara or Jacinth, but they don’t exactly go show off in fighting tournaments. If you want to grow strong enough to face threats like what I’m telling you about, you need to leave here and see the rest of the world. Learn the things that have been hidden from you.”
Wrynn shuddered again. “I’m sorry. I need to get into the pool and rest for a time. We can discuss this more in a few days, when I’ve recovered enough.”
“Wait.” Taelien reached out with his hand. “Exactly how much of my spirit would you need to buy yourself a few more weeks out here? I’m sort of on a tight schedule right now.”
Wrynn took a breath and stepped away from the pool. “Not much. Just a small section. But you should know that as long as I have a portion of your spirit, we’d be connected.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’m more worried about how much it might diminish my combat abilities, or if it would make me vulnerable to forms of spiritual attacks. Creatures like Daesmodin, for instance.”
“You’re right to be concerned about things like that.” She took a sharp breath. “I’ll have to be brief, I’m running out of time. Minimal loss of combat performance. You’ll be weak to possession and such, but only briefly. Your spirit will heal itself within a few weeks.”
Taelien nodded. “Do it.”
Wrynn’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing. “You’re certain?”
“I don’t think we can wait a few more days to get started on finding that crystal you mentioned. And, I’d like to help you bear your burden, even if it’s in a small way.”
Wrynn sighed. “You’re just like someone I used to know.” She shook her head. “Fine. I’ll do it. But you should know...this is going to hurt.”
Chapter XIV – Lydia V – Immortal Sorcerer
As the teleportation spell broke through Lydia’s Comprehensive Barrier, her second barrier — the green, shimmering shield generated by Vendria — manifested beneath it.
Even then, Tarren’s single spell left wide cracks in the second barrier, threatening to break through.
The next instant, Lydia flooded that remaining shield with additional power.
“Repair.” A year before, when her incantations were slower and more focused, she wouldn’t have managed such a quick response.
A heartbeat after that, she was lifting her cane.
Tarren blinked, taking a step back. “Unexpected. You’ll have to forgive—”
Lydia twisted the top of her cane and pulled upward, drawing the steel blade within and stepping forward. She whispered as she moved. “Sorcerous Shield.”
An additional barrier fell into place around her, replacing the Comprehensive Barrier that had broken.
[Be cautious, Lydia. That is no ordinary opponent.] Vendria’s voice rang more clearly in her mind than usual, tinged with more than a little worry.
“Erik Tarren, I’m placing you under arrest.” Lydia leveled her blade at his chest, but didn’t strike.
Tarren snorted. “I think not. Do you realize who you’re talking to? And where we are?”
“I’ll take my chances with filing the paperwork with the Thornguard. You’re clearly up to something.”
“I’m always up to something, my dear. Several somethings, in fact. And I truly was just trying to help expedite your travel.”
Lydia narrowed her eyes. “I’ll take my chances with moving the old fashioned way. The last people I remember you teleporting ended up seriously hurt, and I still have the scars from my part in the rescue.”
“Ah.” Tarren winced. “I truly regret my part in that. I didn’t intend...but it doesn’t matter. I understand your reticence to accept. Fine. Don’t trust me. But I’m not going—”
Lydia reached into a pocket at her side, then hurled a handful of dust at Tarren. He didn’t react fast enough to get out of the way.
He didn’t need to.
The dust passed right through him.
Lydia grit her teeth. “Detect Illusion.”
The image of Erik Tarren in front of her began to glow, and she swung her head around, looking for the original. He must have swapped places with an illusionary duplicate just moments before, while they’d been talking — an illusion couldn’t have handed her the objects just before that. Not unless it had been a solid illusion, which this wasn’t, since her dust had passed through it.
She found another Tarren standing in a corner nearby, watching her. He also was glowing, indicating that there was an illusionary effect over him as well. He could have been another fake, or simply disguised; her Detect Illusions spell wasn’t that specific.
I should have kept that spell active earlier, but it doesn’t matter now.
She ignored the Tarren she’d been talking to and marched toward the second one.
He frowned. “You’re not going to take me by force, either. I can keep this up longer than you can.”
“I’ll go get my squad, then, and we’ll make this complicated. Is that what you want?”
Tarren raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’m not going with you, but I’ll answer one question for you that I shouldn’t. Any one question. Be careful what you ask for.”
“You’re distracting me again. You could flee the area and leave illusory duplicates while I ponder.”
Her Detect Illusion spell might identify such duplicates, but she couldn’t be certain. Sufficiently advanced tricks could fool her spells.
Tarren shrugged. “False on the first, true on the second. I could be doing that, but I admit you’ve actually put me in a bad position. I do not want you to bring your squad in here.”
Lydia was about to ask “why”, then realized that might have counted as her one question.
Then, she realized that even asking if it counted as her one question could also count as one question.
What is it with old sages and their ludicrous riddles and games?
[That’s the same in any world, believe me. We had our share of them on Rendalir, too. Including a whole deity dedicated to that sort of thing...no, several deities, really. The Fateweaver was particularly obnoxious, but he also had his children, and there’s also the Apparition, and the Jester...]
Rendalir? Is that where you’re from?
[Ah, yes. Forgive me. I have remembered much. I will share the pertinent details with you soon.]
Lydia took a moment to think, never taking her eyes off Tarren.
Any insights?
[The obvious question is ‘Who is the Shrouded One?’.]
True, but he already said he didn’t know that. It might be a waste of a question if he was being honest before. Maybe I could go with something less direct, however.
[You could also dig deeper on personal information, like ‘What do you know about my father?’ or ‘What do you know about Taelien’s past?’]
Both tempting, but I’d like to stay focused here.
“You seem to be concentrating very hard, Miss Hastings.”
I could take my chances with trying to capture him and interrogate him at my leisure, but the chances of success are low, and the chances of actually holding him for any significant period of time are even lower.
But if he’s going to play this game, I don’t have to accept it on his initial terms.
Lydia wrinkled her nose. “Five questions.”
Tarren gave her a strained smile. “Three questions. And that is my final offer, I’m in no mood to barter.”
She nodded. She would have accepted two. “Very well. If I sense any hint that you are deceiving me, however, our deal is off.”
“Understood.” Tarren leaned up against the nearby wall. “Shall I give you some time to consider?”
“Just a moment. Detect Truth.”
Lydia didn’t actually have a truth detection spell. She’d spent months attempting to get one to work, but she’d run into many obstacles. Knowledge sorcery didn’t seem to have a clear way to discern objective truth, at least as far as she’d been able to find through her experiments and researching previous attempts at similar spells.
That left attempting to determine if the target thought they were telling the truth, which was possible, but generally required casting something on the other person that would give a signal if they were being deceptive. The flames used in the court of Xerasilis were an example.
She did have a spell for making people glow when they were knowingly attempting to deceive someone, but she would have to touch Tarren to execute it, and he almost certainly could fool it with illusions. Deceptions and sight spells were the bane of knowledge sorcerers everywhere, which was what made people like Tarren — and Jonan — so irritating to counter.
Sensory-enhancement spells used to pick up verbal and physical tics were also possible, but generally involved other types of sorcery, rather than knowledge.
So, in short, she didn’t cast a truth detection spell at all. She simply acted like she was casting one and hoped Tarren wouldn’t notice.
Meanwhile, the actual spell she was casting took effect.
A line appeared between the paper that Tarren had given her and the current Tarren she was speaking to.
It was a tracking spell — one that drew from the dominion of knowledge to trace the caster of an active spell effect, like the one on the piece of paper Tarren had given her. The glowing arrow that she could see overlaying her vision would show her the location of the real Tarren, which meant that she’d be able to tell immediately if he’d teleported away in the middle of the conversation and left a duplicate behind.
Tarren raised an eyebrow, presumably reacting to her saying “Detect Truth”. He was a famous scholar of sorcery, and there was a high chance that he’d know how difficult and unreliable truth sensing spells were. That was fine. All she needed was to sow some seeds of doubt in his mind. If he thought there was any chance she’d detect a fabrication, he’d be less likely to attempt to deceive her.
Probably.
She didn’t have a complete model of his personality. Perhaps he’d be the type to try to test if he could lie to her...but she didn’t think so. He seemed to sincerely want to avoid any further conflict or investigation, and she was counting on that.
“What are your questions?”
“Give me a moment.” Lydia folded the paper he’d given her, tucked it in her bag, and withdrew a blank page and a pen. Then she began to write.
“Let me stop you right there. If you’re trying the ‘what are the answers to all the questions on this page list’ trick, I’m not going to answer that.” Tarren laughed. “I do appreciate the effort to squeeze as much information out of me as you can, I’m not some elemental being bound by a sorcerous pact. Your three questions are three questions, don’t try to artificially extend them.”
Lydia folded the note she’d been writing, then tucked it back away. “Very well, then. I will be more direct.”
Well, it was worth a try.
[It would be a good strategy for dealing with a Gatherer of Knowledge. Many of them are quite literal with the terms of their agreements.]
Three questions.
I’ll need to prioritize the ones that give me the broadest information to act on.
Tarren was probably expecting them all to be broadly related to her current investigation, but he’d never said that they had to be. There were plenty of options to ask about.
Events in the ancient past. His current goals, and why he was hiding them.
Those were all intriguing and potentially important. But she had something to ask that had far greater significance in the grand scheme of things.
I don’t want to scare him off with my first question, though, so I should keep that simple and within his expectations.
“Who is the powerful backer for the Shrouded One that you were concerned about?”
Tarren sighed. “You can’t make this easy for me, can you? Fine. To the best of my knowledge, the Shrouded One is being supported by the Blackstone Assassin.”
Lydia felt a shiver run down her spine. She was about to ask if he was certain, then she recalled that would count as a separate question.
Jacinth, the Blackstone Assassin. Once he set his eyes on a target, their fate was sealed. Even gods could not escape his judgment.
That certainly explains why Tarren wouldn’t want to antagonize him. And why Aayara might be willing to provide Taelien with the name of the Shrouded One — she may be playing us against her legendary rival. They’re always looking for ways to earn advantages against one another.
Tarren gave her a strained smile. “I can see you understand the implications of that knowledge. Do us both a favor and do not spread it further. You will only put more people at risk.”
Lydia tightened her jaw. “I will take that into consideration.”
I don’t like keeping information like that to myself, but...
[Is this Blackstone Assassin truly that dangerous?]
If the legends are true, you could make a pantheon out of the gods he’s put in their graves. And in terms of mortals, you could probably fill a city with his victims.
[Can you stop him?]
I don’t know.
Honestly, I’m not even sure I should try.
The Shrouded One is the priority. She’s the one who orchestrated the attacks against my own people...unless she was acting on his orders.
That would complicate matters significantly.
“Next question?” Tarren asked, sounding impatient.
“Right. Allow me a moment.” She unconsciously tightened her hands, then released them.
“What methods do you know for humans to achieve immortality?”
Tarren gave her an appraising look, then broke into a deep laugh. “I’m impr
essed. Most people would have focused on their immediate investigation, but you thought about broader questions.”
“There will be other ways for me to gain information on the Shrouded One and her patron. Now that I’m aware of who we’re dealing with, I need to take the opportunity to ask you about things that might benefit humanity as a whole.”
“You’re just like her.” Tarren smiled. “Very well, then. Since you asked for ‘methods’, I’ll tell you a bit about a few. Not all the details. Neither of us has the time for that.”
Lydia nodded curtly. “Go on, then.”
“First, in all cases, I should note that what most call immortality is a misnomer. None of us have truly solved eternal life. We have, however, discovered methods for addressing the problem of aging. I could get hit by a carriage, just like anyone else.”
“Understood. Your methods are effectively similar to the rethri, then.”
“Some are, some are not. Pausing aging like the rethri most closely resembles Edrick’s method.”
Lydia perked up at that. “You are aware of the methods used by the other immortal sorcerers, then.” She was careful to phrase it as a statement, not a question.
“Yes. Edrick preserves his life through the use of a dominion bond, similar to the ‘coming of age’ ritual undergone by the rethri. Obviously many humans have tried that method; he’s simply the one who managed to make it work. But his method, like every other, has flaws. Edrick is aging, just very slowly.”
Lydia nodded. “Go on.”
“Hartigan would be next, then. I suppose you already know his methods?”
Lydia smiled. “Perhaps.”
“Ah. Seeking to use this as confirmation that I am speaking the truth, perhaps? Very well. Blake began with attempting to find an alchemical solution, much like the people of Tyrenia. He succeeded for a time, but found the results...unsatisfying. His modern method is actually quite brave — he isn’t immortal at all, in the conventional sense.”
Tarren looked wistful for a moment. “You have heard of Kelryssia, yes?”
Lydia raised an eyebrow at the surprising shift in tone. “Of course. She was one of the worldmakers. An ancient goddess of destiny, long dead.”
