by Andrew Rowe
“I didn’t even realize there were still any alive,” Taelien said. “But the description is interesting. Apparently she brought two human ‘attendants’ with her, and they’re all applying to join the Paladins of Tae’os together.”
“So, it’s a political thing?” Velas asked. “I can’t imagine the Delaren have the same religions we do.”
Taelien shrugged. “No idea. If she’s here as some sort of political move, it’s a strange way to do it. Wouldn’t it make more sense to marry her off to a prince or something?”
“Most women don’t like being ‘married off’ like they’re objects, Sal.”
He frowned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that. I just thought that, you know, traditionally—”
“Yeah, I get what you meant. Anyway, from the description, it sounds like she came here of her own accord. And if she has human guards with her, they already have some integration with human culture.”
“Why come here now, though?” Landen asked. “And taking the trials to join the Paladins of Tae’os – I mean, that implies she must have at least known when they were happening and how they work.”
“Well, why don’t we just ask her when we see her?” Velas set the paper aside. “Shouldn’t be easy to miss the girl with purple crystals for hair.”
“The paper said she doesn’t have any transformations yet, so she must be pretty young,” Taelien added.
Delaren were well-known for being born with the ability to reconstruct their bodies. According to legend, Delaren were born with a humanoid appearance and could only grow larger over time – once they had added something to their bodies, they couldn’t get rid of it. Amir Orin, a legendary Delaren king, was often described as having a layer of bony armor and tremendous wings.
The transformation abilities of the Delaren were supposedly fueled by dominion essence contained in their crystalline hair. This essence was reportedly essential to the Delaren’s survival, making a Delaren’s hair a major point of vulnerability.
It was also one of the most stable sources of dominion essence, since it naturally grew into a crystalline state, and each hair-like strand contained a mixture of essence of several different dominions. That made it an extraordinarily valuable commodity to sorcerers – valuable enough that the Xixian Empire had captured and bred Delaren slaves for centuries, purely to harvest their hair.
Aside from transforming their bodies, Delaren could supposedly use their hair to enhance their physical or sorcerous abilities – but at the cost of years of their lifespan.
“I suppose she’ll be able to blend in somewhat if she hasn’t transformed at all yet,” Landen remarked. “As long as she keeps her head covered.”
“Yeah, at least she’ll be able to fit through doorways,” Velas added. “A fully grown Delaren could barely move around in a city like this.”
“A good point. I wonder what their cities are like,” Taelien mused.
“This is interesting, too.” Landen lifted a few other pieces of paper, passing them to Velas. “Valerians. You know any of them?
Velas glanced over names on the papers. “No one I recognize in specific. This gal is from House Laurent, which I’ve heard of, but I don’t know her specifically.”
“Unfortunate. Well, nothing else in here seems quite as exciting as that creature of legend.”
“Asphodel,” Taelien noted, drawing looks from the other two. “Her name is Asphodel.”
Landen nudged Taelien. “I didn’t know purple was your color.”
Taelien shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m just tired of people thinking of me as ‘the man with the Sae’kes’ rather than Taelien or Salaris. I’d say she’s probably going to be dealing with a similar problem.”
“Suppose that’s fair,” Velas noted, “But if you feel that way, you really shouldn’t be calling yourself Taelien. It invites people to think about you that way. And, as I said, Sal is a much cuter name.”
Taelien sighed.
“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”
Chapter VI – Lydia II – Suboptimal Moves
Lydia navigated the citadel’s halls by rote, reading while she walked. The book was the latest in a series on protection sorcery by Edrick Theas, the father of the murder victim. Reading the book served to both enhance her sorcerous techniques and to try to glean more information about the writer. If his daughter’s assessment was accurate, Kalsiris Theas – apparently called “Kae” by his friends – was likely murdered for political reasons connected to his father.
It was during the third year of the western campaign that I began to favor the use of spells that simulated the creation of a suit of armor. I did not invent the Sorcerous Armor spell, of course, but conventional wisdom had long held that it was better to completely stop an attack with the ubiquitous Sorcerous Shield or Essence Barrier spells.
My logic for the switch in methodology came down to two factors. First, since the Sorcerous Armor spell only served to deflect a portion of an attack, the amount of essence expended for any given strike was far less than attempting to stop an attack entirely. This meant that an armor spell with the same amount of essence invested could diminish the impact of a much larger number of attacks. Since the armor’s protection was often sufficient to prevent weaker attacks – such as arrows or ordinary swings of a sword – from causing harm, the extra essence expended by a more potent defense was essentially wasted.
Second, I found that soldiers and sorcerers alike were more cautious when they felt the impact of attacks. Someone who knows that they are likely to be completely unharmed by a certain number of strikes is far more likely to take risks, and much less likely to realize when their defensive spells have been worn away. The more granular nature of the armor spell allows the recipient to continue to feel the force of each impact increase as the armor weakens, giving him or her a chance to react appropriately.
While I have primarily switched to using armor spells for protecting the troops under my command, I do still utilize the more traditional defenses in specific cases. Armor spells provide minimal defense against mental incursion, and thus, I typically protect myself and others with Sorcerous Shields when confronting Esharen sorcerers. Similarly, armor spells are insufficient against attacks with a level of force that would crush an ordinary suit of armor – and thus, Sorcerous Shields are also necessary protection against siege engines and war sorcerers.
Of course, the best defense against a siege engine is still to avoid being hit by a siege engine. No amount of sorcery can provide certain protection in the face of sufficient force.
The writing was sufficiently enrapturing that she didn’t notice Taelien standing outside the door of her office until she had nearly wandered into him. Blinking, she looked up to meet his grin. “Oh, Salaris. I don’t think I have time to give you any advice on the tests today.”
Calling him Salaris still sounded awkward on her tongue. Using Taelien in Velthryn would drag them both into more politics than she was prepared to deal with – at least for now. Once Taelien was established as a paladin…then things would be very different. She needed to wait for the right time to strike.
He stepped out of the way of the door, motioning toward the handle for her to open it. “I’m not here to bother you about that. It’s the eighth.”
She quirked an eyebrow, searching her mind and failing to find the connection. Looks like one of my spells must have eaten that memory. Either that, or I’m just getting old. “The eighth?”
“Sorcery measurements.”
“Ahh, right.” She found a bookmark in her pouch, shoved it into the book, and then dug deeper into the pouch for the key to her office. After a few more moments of fumbling, she opened the door and gestured for Taelien to go inside. “I suppose we’ll have to do it now, then, or the tests will be invalid. We’ll have to be quick, though. I have some rather important business to attend to.”
“Anything I can help with?” Taelien tilted his head to the side.
&nb
sp; She shook her head. “Not at the moment, unfortunately. Once I’ve concluded the preliminary investigation, perhaps.”
Once they were within, she locked the door. This wasn’t the kind of business she wanted someone walking in on.
Taelien took a seat in nearest chair, unrolling his sleeve. Lydia walked around to the opposite side of the table, lifting up her own chair and dragging it over to set it down next to Taelien.
The swordsman took a deep breath. “Before we start, have you heard anything from Colonel Dyr?”
Lydia shook her head. Back in Orlyn, Taelien had been advised to ask Orin Dyr about Erik Tarren – the man who had handed an infant Taelien to his adoptive parents. Lydia had asked Orin on Taelien’s behalf, but Orin hadn’t seen Tarren in years.
At Lydia’s urging, Orin had sent letters to a few locations he knew Tarren visited – but it was not uncommon for the Erik to disappear for years at a time. An expert on travel sorcery, Erik wandered the countryside to learn its features, which enabled him to teleport to a broader variety of locations.
“Nothing. He sent a letter to Erik’s family in Velrya to ask if they know anything, but it will be weeks before we hear a reply.”
Taelien nodded sadly. “Thank you for looking into it, at least.”
“It’s nothing. Any other questions before we begin?”
Taelien shook his head.
“Alright, then. Anything unusual to report?” It was her standard opening question, but she didn’t expect much of a reply.
“Apparently, Velas is a motion sorcerer. Explains how she throws me around like a rag doll.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “I already knew that. Anything about your own abilities?”
He shrugged. “Still stuck at four runes most of the time. Occasionally, I can get up to five, but it’s extraordinarily difficult. I’m not sure why. In the past, whenever I managed to reach a certain degree of control over the sword, repeating the process got easier – that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.”
“I’m pretty sure I know why, but we’re going to more information today. If it agrees with my previous findings, I’ll let you know about my hypothesis.”
Taelien raised an eyebrow. “Finally filling me in? You must be pretty confident, then.”
I was pretty confident five months ago, but I hate being wrong.
“Yeah, I’m getting there.” She put a hand on his exposed arm. “Okay, you know the process. Anything else before I start?”
“Don’t think so. Ready as I’m going to be.” He took a deep breath. “Go.”
Lydia closed her eyes, picturing an outline of Taelien’s body in her mind. “Dominion of Knowledge, measure the flow of essence within his body.”
Within her mind, Taelien’s body began to glow. Networks of lines illuminated a multitude of sorcerous connections. The brightness made it difficult to examine any individual line, but she knew that the spell was attempting to illustrate each of the dominions within his body in a form that she could comprehend. Each line was a different color, allowing her to distinguish between the dominions they represented.
Most humans had about two dozen visible lines of color within their bodies, representing each of the prime dominions and a series of deep dominions that were essential for the functions of the body. In an ordinary human, these lines typically displayed similar levels of brightness, although there were exceptions. Athletes often had strong lines of motion or stone, scholars often had powerful lines of knowledge, and artists frequently had brilliant lines of deception.
Sorcerers displayed stronger lines for any dominion they practiced, and spells similar to Lydia’s were often used to evaluate the potential for talent among students at sorcerous academies. These lines would grow stronger through use, like working a muscle – but, much like with muscles, they could be torn and ruptured, damaging both the ability to use that form of sorcery and other bodily functions.
Rethri typically had a single dominion that was particularly dominant, and their other dominions were frequently less pronounced than those in humans. After a Rethri received their dominion bond during their coming of age ceremony, they developed a visible pool of dominion essence of that type near their eyes. If Lydia’s measurements on Aladir were any indication, this pool grew stronger over time even when the dominion was not being actively used – making Rethri extremely potent at their own particular sorcerous specialties.
When Lydia had first examined Taelien’s dominions while he had been jailed in Orlyn, she had detected what appeared to be two dominion bonds. Initially, she had assumed this meant that he had been bonded with a ritual similar or identical to the ones the Rethri used. Having two bonds was rare, but not entirely without precedent – she had heard of cases of powerful Rethri developing bonds to a prime dominion and one or more of the deep dominions connected to the prime.
A more thorough examination had displayed problems with that hypothesis.
His dominion bond to metal was easy to examine with this more advanced spell, but the form it took was perplexing. A Rethri bond looked like a single lake feeding into tiny streams. Taelien’s was a broad river that began at his right hand and traveled down the length of his right arm before splitting off into the smaller streams. His focused source of essence made it easier to draw on if he was touching something directly.
The essence source she had assumed was a second dominion bond was even more perplexing. When visualized, it did not look like veins of light at all – rather, it looked like his body contained several tiny stars, each of which emanated essence that permeated everything nearby. The auras from the stars saturated his entire body, growing brighter every time she observed them.
The brightest stars were within his hands, and these were what she observed as Taelien began to draw the Sae’kes.
As soon as the first rune was visible, Lydia watched the lights in Taelien’s body flicker and redirect essence toward his right hand. From there, she could sense it flowing directly into the Sae’kes to power the rune.
“Stop there for a measurement. Dominion of Knowledge, measure the rate of essence flow into the Sae’kes.”
Three point two domini per minute, the spell registered. Almost exactly what I estimated. We’ll see if the trend holds.
The sorceress had developed this particular spell specifically for the purpose of this test, since most knowledge spells directed at the Sae’kes showed useless results. She had made some progress with identifying the functions of the gemstones in the hilt and pommel, but the blade itself offered no answers.
“Go ahead and power the next rune,” she instructed. She kept her eyes shut, watching the star on his right hand intensify.
Most dominion lines dimmed when in use, rather than growing brighter. Even Rethri dominion bonds were no exception.
Metal scraped against metal as Taelien continued to draw out the blade until the second rune was exposed. He let out a deep breath as he infused the second rune.
“Dominion of Knowledge, measure the rate of essence flow into the Sae’kes,” she repeated.
Ten point two four domini per minute, the spell reported to her. Lydia nodded absently. “Continue.”
She repeated the process for the third and fourth runes, mentally recording the results.
Thirty two point seven eight domini per minute.
One hundred four point eight five seven six domini per minute.
The star in his right hand was blinding, its aura extending beyond his arm and half way across his chest. The other stars within his body pulsed independently, seemingly unaffected by this process. The lines representing his other dominions were gradually fading. They were slowly being drained.
She paused, debating if she wanted to push him to continue. The amount of essence he was burning through was absurd by a normal sorcerer’s standards, but his breathing seemed normal, and his results were matching what she expected.
Do I need another data point? Not really.
“I need to keep my e
yes closed. Keep your sword out, but put your left hand in my left hand,” Lydia instructed. It was a non-standard test, but potentially useful. “Dominion of Knowledge, measure the uncategorized essence within his left hand.”
This spell required two adjustments – one to only measure within his hand, another to measure the unusual essence within the ‘star’. She used the term “uncategorized” because she still had no idea which dominion it represented – any effort to identify the sorcery type had provided her with nonsensical results.
Two hundred fifty-five point nine domini.
Lydia frowned at the number. Disconcerting how much essence he can hold. With that amount of essence, he could power several spells without needing to draw on dominions at all. That would probably kill him, of course.
“Keep your right hand on the sword, but put your hand in contact with mine.”
“That’s going to be tricky to do without cutting you, give me a minute.”
Taelien pulled his left hand away, shifted in his seat, and she felt the brush of his skin against her fingers a moment later.
“Okay, you’re touching me.”
Lydia nodded once. “Dominion of Knowledge, measure the uncategorized essence within his right hand.”
Numbers flickered in Lydia’s mind, flickering as they rapidly shifted. One thing was clear in the chaos of digits, however.
He’s drawing essence from somewhere else just as rapidly as he’s using it.
“All right, Tae – Salaris. That’s enough. You can sheathe the sword.”
She opened her eyes, blinking. She could feel a burning in her temples and at the back of her neck – the first signs of a mild overuse of her own sorcery.
Taelien carefully pulled his hand away from hers, allowing the runes to fade one at a time as he slowly lowered the blade back into the sheath.
“I heard some new incants in there. What’d you figure out?”
