On the Shoulders of Titans (Arcane Ascension Book 2)

by Andrew Rowe

  “What’s this?”

  I smiled. “I could tell you for the right price.”

  “You’re cute, but hiding the value of what you’re negotiating with isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

  “It’s a magic lockpick. Put it into a lock, it opens it.”

  Sheridan turned the hairpin over in their hand, considering. “Interesting, but no.” They handed it back to me. “I’ll make this a little easier for you. Use your Arbiter attunement on me.”

  “That’s all?”

  “I want to know what it feels like. And it should permanently increase my mana, if only a little. That’s nothing to scoff at, even at my level of power.”

  I nodded. Sheridan extended their hand. I removed my glove, took Sheridan’s hand, and channeled mana into them.

  “Tingles a little bit.”

  “Don’t move.”

  “Sorry, sorry.”

  I continued concentrating until my hand burned, then released Sheridan’s hand.

  “Interesting.” Sheridan flexed their hand experimentally, examining it. “Thank you for the experience.”

  “So, what was the hidden objective behind that?”

  Sheridan’s eyes fluttered. “What makes you say I had a hidden objective?”

  “Your personality.”

  “An excellent answer.” Sheridan smirked. “And you’re right, but I won’t answer that particular question. You’ll find out eventually. As for your previous question, however, I can give a little bit of insight.”

  “What can you tell me?”

  Sheridan leaned back. “Are you aware that attunement designs have changed over time?”

  I nodded. “There are different generations of attunements. Either the goddess herself or the visages are still improving them somehow.”

  “Correct. One of the elements of attunement design that has changed over time is how quickly they can grow.”

  “Meaning that it used to be harder for your attunements to get stronger?”

  “Mostly easier, I believe, although I haven’t studied the details of every individual generation of attunement.”

  “But why make those sorts of changes? And if there are mechanisms in place for that, how do they work?”

  “Excellent questions.” Sheridan retrieved something from their pouch; the mana watch I’d given them. “You made this little device to measure the amount of mana that someone can safely use.

  “Every attunement has something similar built in. Or, several somethings, really. Functions for measuring the amount of mana in the body, and storage functions that determine how the values have changed over time. And also functions for determining the health of the body.”

  I could follow the logic. “So, the attunement stores what your last maximum mana was, and continuously tests you to see if you meet certain conditions. If you do, your maximum mana increases.”

  “And at certain thresholds, the attunement unlocks entirely new functions,” Sheridan explained. “Carnelian, Sunstone, all of those levels are mana thresholds built into the attunement. And they did not always exist.”

  That was new to me. “They didn’t?”

  “The first attunements just gave all their abilities to the attuned immediately. The result was a form of mana poisoning that was almost always fatal. Attunement levels and the safety thresholds for mana growth are designed to prevent that.”

  “Okay, that explains a bit, but it doesn’t...” I stopped as it began to make sense to me. “Katashi didn’t make my friend’s attunement more powerful. He fundamentally changed how it works.”

  Sheridan nodded. “I can’t say for certain, but that’s what I suspect. He most likely changed the values in the rune to say that she was ready for a higher level attunement. In theory, the safety functions in the attunement would still prevent it from flooding their body with too much mana all at once. Your friend’s mana capacity probably increased gradually over the course of several weeks at the maximum possible rate that the attunement deemed safe.”

  And Marissa spent those few weeks feeling sick and under-performing.

  Still, I knew a lot of people that would be happy to be able to have their attunement level increased rapidly without any significant effort.

  There had to be a greater downside than I was seeing.

  “If that sort of thing is a possibility, why aren’t all of our attunements designed to increase in power automatically by a certain rate every day?”

  “Every time you cast a spell, your body acclimates to using that type of mana. Using mana types and amounts that your body has not acclimated to properly can cause your body harm. If your body had a tremendous amount of mana, but you had never used mana before, and you cast a spell that used even a tenth of it, you’d kill yourself. Because of that, attunements generally require a degree of mana usage before your capacity increases.”

  “Why would Katashi make an exception, then, if it’s an important safety function?”

  “He was probably able to evaluate your friend’s situation and determine that they could handle it. For example, some types of mana are safer than others. You can safely have — and wield — more life mana in your body than fire mana. If your friend was a Mender, for example, Katashi may have been able to increase their power with minimal risk.”

  I nodded. Marissa was a Guardian, and life was one of her mana types. Her attunement was generally defensive in nature. It made sense to me that there would be a lower risk of damage from saturating her body with extra mana.

  She also trained constantly, and it was possible her body was able to handle a higher amount of mana than what her attunement was giving her.

  The overall answer made sense to me, but it was disappointing. It meant that there was no quick and easy way for me to just change someone’s attunement to Emerald and give them a tremendous amount of power in an instant, even if I figured out how Katashi had done what he had done.

  Still, there were avenues I could explore with this knowledge. If Katashi somehow knew that Marissa could handle more mana than she was currently getting, maybe I could figure out how he knew that and learn to do the same. If so, I could potentially accelerate the power growth of other people when it was safe to do so.

  And there were some other options I’d have to think about as well.

  “What about things that increase mana capacity without exercise, like lavris fruits and enhancement elixirs? How do they work?”

  “I’m not an expert on those, but there are a few ways they could work. Lavris fruits and similar foods probably strengthen the body in ways that help it tolerate more mana. It’s possible they also simply use up some of your mana in the digestion process, which would effectively be the same as casting a spell.”

  Sheridan took a breath and then continued. “Enhancement elixirs work more like your attunement; they flood the body with mana. That can be useful in moderation, but as you’ve seen with your own attunement, there’s a maximum benefit you can achieve without causing the body harm.”

  I rubbed at my chin, thinking. “Okay. But none of that explains how the brand worked that Katashi gave me, or how he changed that into an attunement.”

  “You’re quite right, that’s something different. Unfortunately, it’s not something I’m allowed to explain.”

  “You sure there’s nothing else you can tell me?”

  “Anabelle Farren.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Head researcher for artificial attunements in Caelford. If you really want to know how that brand worked, or how to give someone else an attunement in general, you should talk to her.”

  That sounded like something that I absolutely needed to do, but that I couldn’t do immediately. Caelford was weeks away by train, and I wasn’t done with the school year. And even if I was, I didn’t find it likely I’d be able to slip away to Caelford any time soon.

  Still, it was good to finally have a name of someone I could talk to. It was both a lead on how to research my own
abilities and potentially relevant to Tenjin’s whole situation.

  “Anabelle Farren,” I repeated. “I’ll look into that. Thank you.”

  Sheridan smiled. “Good. Now, I think I’ve given you enough secrets for one day.”

  I nodded and stood up. “Thank you. You’ve been a tremendous help.”

  Sheridan waved a hand dismissively. “You were entertaining. That’s a good enough exchange for me.”

  ***

  After talking to Sheridan, it occurred to me that I still hadn’t heard anything from Derek about the other Theas sibling.

  There was a part of me that was still tempted to confront Elora directly. She was a key part to all this, but she was also vastly more powerful and influential than I was, and I wasn’t sure if I could deal with her safely. Things clearly hadn’t gone as she’d planned, and I didn’t know if she was still working with Tristan or not.

  I decided to ask Derek first. “She’s not around,” he explained.

  “Around?” I asked. “What does that mean?”

  “She’s apparently been in Dalenos for a month or so.”

  I stared at Derek. “Isn’t that around when the grand cathedral in Dalenos exploded?”

  I deliberately didn’t mention that my mother was also in Dalenos. This news strengthened the possibility that Elora was working with Mother in some way.

  Derek shrugged. “That doesn’t sound like her style.”

  “But kidnapping a visage is?”

  “That was unusual for her, admittedly. But blowing up a major place of worship seems too...messy for her. She values precision. Organization. The kind of random destruction caused by something like that wouldn’t appeal to her.”

  “But you’re not ruling out that she could have been involved?”

  Derek sighed. “No. I can’t rule anything out at this point. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a part of the same organization that she’s working with that caused the explosion, I’m just saying I doubt it was her personally.”

  I nodded. “Do you have any way of getting in touch with her at a distance? Wayfarer, that sort of thing?”

  “I already sent her a few messages. She hasn’t bothered to reply. She’s probably still angry about...well, lots of things.”

  That was inconvenient, but I could work around it. “Okay. Point me to your Wayfarer, and I’ll contact her.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Derek frowned. “If she’s reminded that you exist, that gives her a reason to start paying more attention to you.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “You do not want Elora Theas’ attention unless you can control that attention.”

  I twisted my lips in concern. I didn’t like the sound of that. “I’ve managed to keep up with Sheridan so far. I think it’s worth a try.”

  “Deni and Elora are not the same...but it probably won’t hurt. Okay, I’ll give you some directions and write my friend a note.”

  Derek gave me a letter, as promised, and sent me to a Wayfarer on the other side of town.

  I wrote a brief letter, hoping it would get me an effective response.

  Dear Lady Theas,

  Please forgive me for the unsolicited message.

  This is Corin Cadence, son of Magnus Cadence and Laura Lyran.

  I believe we have both been involved in some matters relating to the Serpent Spire, and I would like to arrange for an exchange of information.

  It is my hope that we can be of use to each other.

  Sincerely,

  Corin Cadence

  The Wayfarer sent the message for a discount, but it still cost me more than I would have liked. I planned to get back to enchanting and selling goods as soon as the exams were over.

  For the moment, I just had to hope the message was worth the cost.

  ***

  Two more weeks passed.

  It was week twenty-six, with four weeks before the winter ball.

  I was far from idle during that time.

  I continued training with my Arbiter attunement, using it to bolster Patrick and Marissa’s mana, as well as the power of my own Enchanter attunement.

  Sera wouldn’t let me check her mana for a while, claiming that she didn’t like me bothering her all the time. When she finally let me check her a couple weeks after the exam, her mana registered at 24/24 — more than I’d started the semester with. I still wasn’t comfortable using my Arbiter attunement to make her stronger, but she was getting to the point where she was something closer to a functional Summoner again.

  She still had difficulty speaking, though, and pushing herself always resulted in a series of wracking coughs. Sheridan apparently paid her a couple more visits and continued to help heal the mana scarring damage, but I wasn’t around for any of them.

  My own attunements were still growing stronger. My Arbiter attunement was up to 121/121 mana, and my Enchanter attunement was at 90/90.

  In terms of the rating system, that meant I’d moved up from Carnelian E to Carnelian D for my Enchanter attunement, and my Arbiter attunement was already at Carnelian C. I was well ahead of most of my classmates at this point, although I’d heard about a couple truly outstanding cases that had already gotten even further.

  After I hit Sunstone, advancing further would get exponentially harder. The mana requirements for each attunement level went up six-fold for each level. People at higher attunement levels generally gained mana more quickly as well, but only a little bit, not six times faster.

  If I wanted to catch up to people like Derek, I’d need to keep finding ways to increase mana capacity faster.

  It was with that in mind that I spent most of the first week trying to make an enhancement elixir.

  I had a unique advantage in that endeavor. I didn’t need a complex and expensive apparatus to purify my mana: my attunement handled that. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only difficult part of the process.

  First, I had to figure out how to create mana in a liquid state. I’d gotten much better at making solid mana crystals, but making liquid mana was a slightly different technique.

  I asked Vellum for advice. This was, as usual, a mistake.

  “Oh, making Citrine-level potions now? Congratulations, you must have taken two years of potions classes and graduated from the university while I wasn’t paying attention.”

  After a few more minutes of exchanging barbs, she made it absolutely clear that I was not ready to make enhancement elixirs, and that she was well aware I would continue to attempt to do so anyway.

  She was right, of course. But she also wasn’t particularly helpful.

  I dug into books for techniques on mana manipulation, and eventually found some practice exercises for making liquid mana that sounded doable.

  The easiest was just channeling mana into a glass of water.

  The trick was getting the mana into the water at exactly the right rate so that the water didn’t evaporate, solidify, or explode.

  I mourned the loss of many cups that day.

  When I finally succeeded in charging a glass of water with mana, the result wasn’t an enhancement elixir, or even a mana potion — it was just water with some mana in it.

  Mana potions were the next logical stage in progression from there, and that involved mixing mana-charged water with specific alchemical agents.

  Enhancement elixirs required pure mana in liquid form, rather than mana-infused water, as a base. After days of effort, I still couldn’t get mana to coalesce in that state.

  And beyond that, an enhancement elixir still required other ingredients — some of which, I learned, were quite expensive.

  That week wasn’t a waste, but it wasn’t as much progress as I wanted, either.

  I switched my focus on the following week to something I’d neglected — life magic. Life was the secondary mana type for my new attunement, and I hadn’t done anything with it yet.

  Ignoring a secondary mana type was pretty common for first-year students. Marissa had barel
y studied life mana herself, and she’d had it from her Guardian attunement since the beginning of the semester. The primary mana types and compound mana types — like lightning, which Patrick could make from a combination of both air and fire — were far more popular.

  It probably would have been more efficient to wait until my second year, then enroll in a class on life magic. But I had a bad habit of wandering into near-death situations.

  I didn’t want, “Healing magic didn’t seem like a priority,” to be my final words.

  In fact, I didn’t really want to have final words at all, unless they involved something like, “At last, I have transcended beyond the boundaries of my frail human existence.”

  Not in a metaphor for dying sense; more in an ascending to a higher state of being sense. That sounded pleasant.

  Unfortunately, healing magic wasn’t exactly the type of thing I could master in a week.

  I learned early on that “healing” spells involved bombarding a specific part of someone with mana and guiding that mana to rebuild the damaged location. This required a high degree of precision, almost like performing surgery.

  If I didn’t have a firm understanding of what the healing spell was supposed to accomplish, it wouldn’t work properly, and I could actually do more harm than good.

  For example, if I found someone with a slice in their leg, I could use a healing spell to patch the hole in the skin — but if I didn’t know how the muscle underneath was supposed to be repaired, I could either leave it in a damaged state or heal it incorrectly, making the injury worse.

  That meant my week of learning healing magic was largely dedicated to studying books on human anatomy.

  The rest of it was spent on practicing the Lesser Regeneration spell, which worked like a weaker version of my ring — it caused the body to heal itself faster. It was much slower than a direct healing spell, but it didn’t require any skill to use, and had a minimal chance of causing harm.

  I didn’t expect to get much utility out of the spell, since it was about a tenth the power of the ring, and about a third the power of the bracer. Still, if I was ever in a situation where there were more people injured than I had items to handle, it would potentially be useful.