The Blue Mage Raised by Dragons

by Virlyce

  “Thank you for doing this,” Tafel said and lowered her head. She raised it again and looked around. “This place was really expansive, wasn’t it? It makes you wonder how much time the humans have spent making it.”

  Vur nodded as he sat down next to Lindyss. “There’s still another floor,” he said and pointed at a stairwell in the corner of the room. “How long have we been here? I’m getting sleepy.”

  “About six hours,” Lindyss said. “Two hours per floor.” She stood up and stretched her arms above her head. “Let’s take a peek at the fourth floor. Some of the epitaphs are really interesting.”

  “You’ve been reading them?” Tafel asked and raised an eyebrow. She glanced at the plaque attached to the foot of the sarcophagus closest to her. “Here lies Lady Poe, the first person to scale Mt. Berg. Passed away at 80 years old when she tripped over a chicken.” Tafel frowned. “Are these real?”

  Lindyss chuckled. “They are,” she said. “You just chose one of the less heroic ones to read.”

  “Here lies Mr. Ratsel,” Vur read aloud. “The only thing we know about him is his name, but he must have been important if I was asked to make a plaque for him. –Plaque Maker Josef.”

  “…”

  “Well, the other four thousand were interesting, okay?” Lindyss crossed her arms and marched towards the stairwell. Vur and Tafel exchanged glances before following after her. The trio descended down the stairs, leaving footprints in the dust. At the bottom, there was a pair of double doors with two armored statues standing at the sides, facing each other.

  “This wasn’t here for the other floors,” Lindyss said and examined the lock on the door. She hummed as she rubbed her chin and fiddled with the runes surrounding the lock. The door remained closed. She pointed at the keyhole and said, “Vur. Key.”

  Vur took a step forward and kicked the lock. Metal screeched as the doors were torn off their hinges, and a plume of dust erupted as the doors fell to the floor with a clang, causing the three to cover their faces. Lindyss waved her hand, and a fireball materialized in the air in front of her, illuminating the darkness ahead. The room was tiny with a single glass coffin resting upright in the center. A purple carpet lined the floor, and words were inscribed around the walls, leaving no white space.

  Lindyss gasped as her body froze mid-step. Her eyes were locked on the figure in the coffin ahead. Vur tilted his head and blinked at the young man’s preserved body resting behind the glass. “Do you know him?”

  Lindyss’ hands clenched into fists, but she didn’t respond. Her body trembled as she took a step forward, eyes never leaving the corpse. Vur frowned and reached for Lindyss’ arm, but Tafel grabbed his wrist and shook her head. She brought him to her side and put a finger to her lips as Lindyss took slow steps towards the coffin.

  Vur opened his mouth, but Tafel placed her finger on his lips without taking her eyes off Lindyss. She shook her head again. Vur sighed while turning away from Tafel.

  Lindyss placed her hand against the glass coffin. A single tear rolled down her cheek and dropped to the floor. After a few minutes passed, she sighed and wiped her face as she turned around, displaying a slight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Let’s go,” she said and brushed past Vur. “We’ll dig up a few corpses in the cemetery outside and place the rest of the spirits in those.”

  “You’re not going to reanimate him?” Vur asked, taking one last glance at the man in the coffin before he followed after Lindyss.

  “No,” Lindyss said as she trekked up the stairs. The fireball flickered out of existence, returning the room to darkness. “He deserves to rest.” The trio remained silent as they climbed to the third floor. Lindyss turned around and waved her arm, causing a wall of earth to seal off the stairwell.

  “Who was he?” Tafel asked as the group made their way out of the mausoleum. She looked at her toes as she walked. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” She squeezed Vur’s hand as Lindyss continued to walk in silence. A minute passed.

  “Here lies Vincent the Dragonslayer,” Lindyss said, her voice steady. “If any man deserved to join our ancestors in the afterlife, then it would be him. Unfortunately, he paid the greatest sacrifice for the sake of humanity.” She fell silent.

  “Dragonslayer?” Vur asked.

  “He didn’t actually slay any dragons,” Lindyss said and gritted her teeth. “He was the one who injured the patriarch and forced him to sleep.”

  “My grandpa?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “With a sword.”

  “What kind of sword?”

  “Orichalcum.”

  “He used an orichalcum sword to injure Grandpa?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he use magic?”

  “No.”

  “Was he that strong?”

  Lindyss snorted and didn’t reply. Tafel tugged Vur’s arm as he opened his mouth to ask another question. Vur frowned. “You’re acting strange, Auntie. Are you on your period?”

  “Die.” Lindyss whirled around and threw a black lightning bolt at Vur’s face. “What do you know about periods, you brat? And call me Lindyss!”

  A black aura enveloped Vur’s hand as he caught the lightning bolt. He beamed at Lindyss, and the black lightning crackled before dispersing. “That’s better. A mad Auntie is better than a sad Auntie,” Vur said. “Maybe I should tell Grimmy that you were sad today.”

  “If you tell Grimmy, I’ll kill you and feed your soul to a squirrel,” Lindyss said and ruffled Vur’s hair. She smiled with her eyes narrowed into crescents. “And then I’ll feed the squirrel to Tafel. Understand?”

  Tafel’s face blanched. “He understands,” she said and covered Vur’s mouth with her hand.

  “But seriously,” Vur said as he pulled Tafel’s hand away from his mouth. “How was he that strong?”

  Lindyss sighed. “Resentment,” she said as she turned back around and headed towards the mausoleum’s exit.

  “Resentment?”

  Lindyss nodded. “If the humans’ god is made up of spirits who must have certain qualifications, then what happens to the spirits who fail to join? Surely you don’t expect every commoner and villain to become a god. People would just kill themselves if that was the case,” she said. “That man chose to harbor all the spirits who failed to become god and gained immense power, but lost himself in the process.” She sighed as she pushed open the door leading outside. A sliver of sunlight shone on her face.

  “Then where are all the spirits now?” Tafel asked.

  Lindyss shrugged. “The humans probably sealed them away somewhere…” Her voice trailed off as Mr. Skelly’s words came back to her. She mumbled, “Weakening formation?”

  ***

  “The formation’s been stabilized.”

  Gale was kneeling on the floor while a golden spirit stood in front of him with its arms across its chest. A white crystal emitted yellow smoke underneath it, flowing into the spirit’s body. The runes on the floor beneath them were completely golden; there were no signs of the black spots that had existed before. The cracks had been repaired, and an extra layer of golden light laminated the floor.

  “You did well in informing us, Gale,” the spirit said and nodded. “We’ve been too preoccupied with the new king and surveillance in the outskirts of the kingdom.”

  “Thank you for the praise,” Gale said, still kneeling. He hesitated before speaking. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly does this formation do?”

  The spirit sighed. “I suppose you have the right to know as pope,” it said. “Let me ask you a question. What happens to an animal after it dies?”

  “It stops moving,” Gale said and nodded.

  The spirit blinked. “Obviously! I meant what happens to its soul?” Gale opened his mouth, but the spirit stopped him. “Wait. Judging from your previous answer, I’ll have to start with an even more basic question. What is a soul? What is it made of?”

  “The soul is a pe
rson’s essence,” Gale said and frowned as he rubbed his chin. “Is it made of mana?”

  “Close,” the spirit said. “The soul is the energy that generates mana. Every person’s soul differs in power which causes different constitutions between people. Now, what happens to an animal’s soul when it dies?”

  “It disperses into the surroundings, right? That’s why people level up.”

  “Incorrect,” the spirit said and sighed while shaking its head. “The education system truly is failing. The residual mana is what disperses; the soul remains intact. How do you think resurrections work if the soul disperses?”

  “Err.”

  “Never mind that,” the spirit said and sighed again. The crystal underneath it dimmed as it released a noticeably lower volume of smoke. “I’m running out of time, so I can’t hold your hand all the way to the answer. Listen up! Not all souls are equal. Some get tainted as they go through life, whether by evil thoughts or outside measures. As god, we only accept the purest of souls; however, the tainted souls still linger: some are reanimated as undead, some are eaten by certain beasts, and others are reincarnated and given a chance to become pure again. This formation seals the souls who are beyond hope.” The spirit’s image flickered as wisps of smoke trailed out of its body. “Don’t touch anything and let us know if it weakens again.”

  “I understand,” Gale said and scratched his head. “I do have one last question.”

  “Speak,” the spirit said. Its feet blurred and turned into smoke, followed by its calves.

  “Why do I need a crystal to summon you but King Vur doesn’t?”

  “He summons a powerless version of us. The crystal provides us with a medium through which we can apply our strength,” the spirit said. Half of its body was gone.

  “Doesn’t that mean you can stop your dispersal right now?” Gale asked and tilted his head. “You’ll just be powerless, but still here, no?”

  The spirit cleared its throat as it scratched its nose. “That is…. We’re very busy,” the spirit said and nodded as its neck disappeared. “Have to do god stuff, y’know? If every Jack and Jill could summon us at will, we’d never get to have any fun—err, important stuff done.”

  “But…” Gale sighed as the spirit disappeared completely. The dim crystal on the floor cracked and dissolved into dust.

  42

  Raffgier wrung his hands together while gritting his teeth. He was sitting at a circular table with three men standing before him. They hung their heads, staring at their toes. A banner with an eagle crest hung above the four men, and a bloody straw-hat lay in the corner of the room.

  “What do you mean the poison was ineffective?” Raffgier asked as he slammed his fist against the table. “How incompetent are you fools? I paid you quadruple the normal costs, and you come back with no results. Explain yourselves.”

  “There’s not much to explain, Sir Raffgier,” the man on the far left said as he raised his head. “I personally handed the king the goblet with the striped snake’s venom inside of it. He drank all of it in one gulp, but nothing happened. I later applied the venom to a passerby who died almost instantaneously.”

  Raffgier snorted. “Then you should have tried again,” he said as he leaned back against his chair. “Doesn’t your organization guarantee the death of anyone for the right price?”

  The man in the middle sighed. “Sir Raffgier, we’ve already helped you reclaim your land and noble title, not to mention the previous deeds we’ve done for you,” he said and rubbed his bald head. “You should already know we’re the best around. The target is a little more difficult. We’ll need more time.”

  “I don’t have time,” Raffgier said and ground his teeth together. “Who knows when that brat will decide to check on my household and find that I’m back in power? I don’t care what you have to do. If you can’t kill him, then turn the people against him. Kill a few bishops and frame him. I don’t care; just get him off the throne. Do you understand me?”

  “We understand,” the man in the middle said and nodded. “It wouldn’t be good for us either if we lost our biggest customer.”

  “Good. Don’t disappoint me again. Call Julia in here on your way out,” Raffgier said as he exhaled and clasped his hands together. The three men nodded and exited the room. Raffgier closed his eyes and tilted his neck towards the ceiling.

  “You called for me?” a feminine voice asked.

  Raffgier’s eyes snapped open. “Yes. I want you to get in contact with all the nobles who are discontent with the king”—his eyes narrowed—“demons too. Surely not all of them are satisfied with such a young, female demon lord. Rope them in with treasures. Spare no expense on the gifts; we want everyone to cooperate.”

  A chill ran down Julia’s spine as she lowered her head. “I understand, Sir Raffgier. It will be done.”

  ***

  In the royal dining room of the castle, Vur was sitting across from Tafel with a table filled with food between them. Vur was shirtless with his crown resting on an empty chair beside him. Tafel was wearing a purple sleeveless dress that stopped at her ankles. Vur made a face as he swallowed his drink and sniffed the empty goblet.

  “Was it poisoned again?” Tafel asked as she eyed the liquid in the goblet by her plate. She sighed and put her fork down as Vur shrugged. “You shouldn’t drink it if it is, you know?”

  “Sometimes it tastes nice,” Vur said as he rinsed his mouth with a conjured ball of water. “And you know it won’t hurt me.” He glanced at the rose tattoo on his chest. Its roots pulsed with a slight purple glow.

  “But still, it makes me uneasy,” Tafel said and frowned. “You go through ten assassination attempts a day. There’s no need to take unnecessary risks. Why don’t you do something about the people targeting you?”

  “They’ll give up eventually,” Vur said as he cut his steak. “It’s a waste of effort. My problems tend to go away if I ignore them long enough. The attempts are already starting to lessen.”

  Tafel sighed and shook her head. She nibbled on a piece of bread and leaned back in her chair. She remained silent as Vur ate, a small smile appearing on her lips as Vur brought a cube of meat to his mouth with his fork.

  “What?” Vur asked after he swallowed his food.

  “Nothing,” Tafel said and giggled. “I was just thinking back to the first time you ate with my parents. You’ve gotten better at not breaking things.”

  Vur stuck his tongue out before focusing his attention on his steak. “I’ve gotten better at a lot of things.”

  “Oh? Like what?”

  Vur rolled his eyes. “Like everything.”

  Tafel smiled as she placed her bread down. “I suppose that’s true,” she said and leaned forward. “You’ve gotten better at controlling your emotions and thinking before acting. Although your common sense hasn’t improved one bit.”

  Vur shrugged. “I think my common sense works well. It’s everyone else’s that doesn’t make sense.”

  “Mm. You’re right. Everyone else is clearly wrong,” Tafel said and nodded. She rested her chin on her palm. A moment of silence passed as Vur chewed on his steak. “Hey.”

  “Yes?”

  Tafel’s cheeks flushed. “When are you going to marry me?” Her gaze lowered to the food on her plate. “Because, you know. We’re almost seventeen and all,” she said in a soft voice. “Most girls are married when they’re sixteen.”

  Vur blinked a few times. “I thought you didn’t want to get married young,” he said and scratched his head. “Didn’t you want to be an adventurer?”

  “What does being an adventurer have to do with marrying young?” Tafel asked and raised her head. “There are plenty of married adventurers.”

  “I don’t know,” Vur said and rubbed his chin. “I just assumed you wanted to explore the world before you got married.”

  “I can still explore the world,” Tafel said and crossed her arms. “And it’ll be more fun if you came along too. This is why I said you h
ave no common sense. Jeez.”

  Vur slowly nodded his head. “I see,” he said and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Then let’s get married. How do we do that?”

  Tafel froze. “Um. I’m not too sure on the details myself,” she said and stared at her hands. She nodded. “Let’s tell our parents first.”

  Vur swallowed the rest of the food on his plate in one gulp. “Alright,” he said and nodded. “We should go see my parents first before they decide to sleep for a few months.” The two stood up and left the room, leaving the dishes behind.

  A boy with a suit flinched as the door opened and Tafel and Vur stepped out. “Y-you’re done eating, Your Majesty?” the boy asked with wide eyes. His face was slightly pale.

  Vur nodded. “You can clean up now.”

  The boy lowered his head and nodded.

  “Hey,” Tafel said. “Don’t you think he’s acting suspicious? He probably the one who poisoned you, you know?”

  Cold sweat rolled down the boy’s back as he froze in place.

  Vur shrugged. “I know, but it doesn’t matter,” he said and held Tafel’s hand. “He’s just the messenger. Let’s go before it gets too dark.” The two walked down the hall, ignoring the frozen boy. Only after Vur and Tafel rounded a corner did he dare blink.

  ***

  Julia stood across from Raffgier’s table with her head lowered. Raffgier’s face was red and veins bulged on forehead. “You’re saying none of the nobles want to join forces with me?”

  Julia nodded. “They accepted the gifts at the start, but eventually all of the gifts were returned,” she said. “They requested we not ask them again in case they’re mistaken for colluding with a traitor.”

  Raffgier’s armrest splintered as his right hand clenched into a fist. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Julia pulled a stack of letters out of her bag and passed it to Raffgier. “All the nobles who were originally receptive to the idea have attempted their own assassinations and failed. To quote Sir Klug, ‘I refuse to fight against an enemy that drinks poison like water and uses a sword like toilet paper.’”