"Same, I have Forgemastering later."
"What about we meet at Quylla's place after the end of the lessons?" Yurial proposed. "I bet
that with her learning speed, by the time we get there, she will be able to teach us the
basics."
That afternoon, much to Lith disappointment, Professor Wanemyre went back to theory
lessons. In the first trimester, they had learned how to infuse a single enchantment in an
object.
The topic of the new lesson was how to mix two enchantments together, introducing a new
set of runes and magic circles whose complexity was on all another level. He was eager to get
back in the lab and put them to test.
Because of Soluspedia, when it wasn't involved fine mana control or a particular timing in
manipulating volatile energies, such lessons were just redundant for him.
He already knew every rune and circle, so he spent most of the lesson practicing how to draw
them perfectly, instead of listening. The second forgemastering tome was a gold mine of
inspiration for Lith.
Meanwhile, Yurial was diligently taking notes about the arrays Professor Tinnam was
introducing. A Warden had a supportive role, he couldn't cast random spells like most mages.
It was important to understand in what circumstances a magic formation would do more
good than harm. Since the Griffon Kingdom was at peace, Yurial had chosen such
specialization hoping to help the development of his family's fief.
His wish was to become able to build dams, bridges and roads almost by himself, saving the
money to hire more healers and teachers. One of his great-grandmother teachings, was that
without its people, a Country was just a piece of land.
The new arrays were even more difficult to perform and hard to control than those of the first
trimester, but at least the casting speed was the same. The biggest flaw of a Warden, was the
long time necessary for a single spell.
After the lesson, he was about to leave, when he was approached by an old acquaintance. It
was Lyam Lukart, the military looking guy that Lith humiliated during Trasque's second lesson.
Yurial knew him because he was the son of archmage Lukart. They had started the academy
together, three years prior, but had quickly parted ways. The Lukart family was one of the
oldest magician bloodlines, and were pretty stuck up about that.
Despite their fathers held the same status, Lyam had never treated Yurial as a peer, let alone
as a friend. Following his family's teachings, he considered the Deirus household a branch
family at best.
Having centuries of mystic legacy, a household with only three generations of mages was too
young to be considered a real magical bloodline. Lyam demanded blind respect and loyalty
from those he deemed inferior.
The Deirus household, instead, didn't give a damn about traditions, respecting only talent and
achievements. Yurial couldn't bear Lyam's groundless arrogance, so after a while, he had
politely but firmly put a distance between them.
"Deirus, do you have a minute?" Lyam asked.
Yurial put up his best smile, trying to cut that conversation short. Calling Yurial by his last
name, was a polite way to underline their difference in status. Whatever Lyam wanted, he
wasn't willing to give.
"Not really, Lyam. Dimensional magic seems really hard. I'm in a hurry to practice for
tomorrow's lesson." Refusing his request was usually enough. For someone like Lyam, having
to ask twice was akin to begging.
"Then let me accompany you for a while, I promise it will not take long."
Yurial was so flabbergasted, that for a second he lost his composure, but was quick to
recover. He nodded, prompting the other to continue.
"You have been here as long as I have. What do you think of all the changes Linjos
introduced?" The question was odd, but Yurial had no reason to lie or refuse to answer.
"Honestly, I don't know what to think. No finals, that terrifying mock exam, the new
Professors and their scoring system. It's too soon to judge his performance, but I must admit
that so far things have become more interesting."
That clearly wasn't the answer Lyam hoped to hear. His upper lip curled up in an expression of
disgust, without even trying to hide his feelings.
"I get your point." He sighed.
"Tradition has value only for those who contributed crafting it, and live by it. But, you see,
many people feel differently about what's happening. First the seed of a bad apple got
accepted to one of the six big academies.
Then, an outstanding member of the magical society, like Headmistress Linnea, has lost
everything in the name of diversity, just to quench the thirst for revenge of social climbers
that got too close to the Queen's ear.
And now the prestigious White Griffon gets rid of its history, treating it as garbage, abolishing
finals in favour of this farce of a grading system?" Lyam spat on the floor, uncaring of the
disgusted looks people threw at him.
Yet his voice was calm and collected, Yurial doubted that anyone beside him could hear
anything.
"Many people, both at the Court at the Mage Association, are not pleased with the course of
these events. They would like the Queen to reconsider her decisions, taking her time to
properly reflect before doing something this¡ drastic."
Yurial knew there was little if no trust between them, and how Lyam was being subtle, making
no names.
"What all this have to do with me?"
"Well, some think that all magical bloodlines should stick together and try to correct this
situation. People like Linjos need to be put back in their place. And for that, I'd like your help."
"I'm not going to hurt my friends!" Yurial angrily retorted. "Nor I am going to let anyone harm
them!" His hostility only met an amused laughter.
"Your friends? It's what you think this is all about? No one cares who do you pick as boot boy,
or what kind of wench you prefer for warming your bed, to each his own. Everyone has his
eccentricities.
No one will touch your servants, there is no need to. What we want is to get rid of Linjos. To
prove that all these so called 'changes' do nothing but let weeds proliferate, while real talents
get smothered in the crib.
I came to you today, because I need you to persuade your father to join our cause."
"Good luck with that." Yurial managed to say. "Do whatever you want, but leave me out of
this. Be it the old or the new system, is none of my business." He didn't know if to report
everything to the Headmaster, but he wasn't stupid enough to reveal his intentions.
Keeping a neutral stand while deciding what to do was the best course of action.
"That's unfortunate." Lyam clicked his tongue.
"I really hoped you would come to your senses. Picking the wrong path in life can have
terrible consequences."
Yurial looked around, noticing that the corridor was empty. No one was around anymore, only
the two of them remained.
Before he could demand for an explanation, Lyam punched him in the stomach, following
with a hook to the chin that sent Yurial to the ground.
Suddenly, several people joined the beating, carefully avoiding to hit his face or vitals. While
trying to protect himself, Yurial recognized some of them, al
l heirs of powerful nobles or
ancient magical bloodlines.
"The good thing about stupidity, is that up to a certain degree it can be beaten out. Even
dumb dogs learn their lessons with the proper training." Lyam kneeled, using a powerful tier
three healing spell on Yurial to leave no trace of the brutal aggression.
The pain, though, was still there. Yurial needed all of his willpower to not give them the
satisfaction of begging to stop or screaming in agony. He hadn't made a sound the whole
time.
"Tell your father that this was just a warning. We can't wait to have a proper talk with him
too."
Chapter 98 Failures
When someone heard referring to the King's Council Chamber, usually his mind would think
of the throne room.
More than twenty meters (66,6 feet) long and over ten meters (33,3 feet) large, a single red
silk carpet with gold embroidered edges going from the three meters (10 feet) wide double
doors up to the two steps that distanced the floor where nobles stood and the raised one for
the royal family.
That way, even sitting on their gold thrones, carved to resemble a rampant griffon, they
would be able to look down on everyone present, reaffirming they status and authority.
The whole room was lit by crystal chandeliers, fueled by magic, leaving no space for shadows
or need for maintenance.
On the walls, magically enchanted tapestries would recount over and over the great feats that
the current King had accomplished to be deemed worthy of his power. Both the floor and the
pillars of the room were realized from gold veined marble, the most precious and robust
material available in the Griffon Kingdom.
And that someone would be dead wrong. The throne room was perfect for holding social
events or awarding a particular general or noble. But when it came down to state secrets, it
was a security nightmare.
Between the main entrance, the servants' passages, the secret passages and the balconies for
the spectators, circling around the room, a small army of spies could easily go unnoticed, even
after searching the whole place with a tooth comb.
The real Council Chamber was located in the King's private apartments, inside of a heavily
guarded tower. The room was about 6 meters (20 feet) long and 4 meters (13 feet) large with
only a round table and wooden chairs as furniture.
The round table didn't mean that every opinion held the same importance, it was simply the
only way to be heard from every side of the room without the need of shouting non-stop.
Aside from the furniture, the room was bare, with no windows and only one entrance. Both
the floor and the walls were of a pale grey, there was no colour outside that of the magical
stones the room was made of.
Most of the assemblies would last hours, and given the sensitive nature of the subjects that
required the King's direct approval, discretion was of vital importance.
The whole place was enchanted to prevent eavesdropping, either by conventional or magical
means, not to mention all the protections necessary to avoid the whole high command
getting killed in one fell swoop.
In that particular day, the Council Chamber wasn't occupied by ministers or generals, but by
the upper echelons of the Mage Association. In such occasions, it was the Queen's duty
chairing the debate.
For the Crown to have absolute control over both political and magical matters,
responsibilities were shared as such. The one of the royal couple most versed in the magical
arts would become the head of the Mage Association.
The other, would be in charge of all the military power and oversee the ministers' activities.
Together, they would hold all the keys to the Kingdom.
Queen Sylpha wore a simple blue satin morning dress, with long sleeves covering her arms.
Despite being over fifty years old, it was hard thinking her a day past thirty.
With her square chin and sharp features, she couldn't be considered beautiful, but the aura of
confidence and power she exuded coupled with her perfect manners, still made her quite
charming.
"Your Majesty, we still cannot find Linnea." Said a bald middle-aged man with a grey goatee.
"We are certain she hasn't crossed the borders yet. She would never leave her children
behind."
The Queen dilated her nostrils in annoyance. Recently she would only receive bad news.
"And? I want results, not hypothesis! If you can't find her, she could have defected to the
Blood Sand tribes or even hiding up my powdered a*s for all I care. What about the Gorgon
Empire? Is it true that they are developing clairvoyance magic?"
The idea of their worst enemy being able to spy on them from a safe distance, caused the
Queen to lose sleep over it.
"Yes and no." Sniggered an old woman with long white hair, held up in a pony tail. "Yes, they
spent thousands of gold coins to indulge the Emperor obsession with prophets, seers and all
that cr*p about predicting the future.
No, because up to date all those so called 'mediums' were only frauds. Some of them were
actually our agents, that managed to drain considerable sums before disappearing."
"Finally, something goes right!" She slammed the table with her fist hard enough to make
several goblets fall off.
"What about the great academies?" An awkward silence fell into the room, instantly ruining
her good mood.
"Your Majesty, maybe you should reconsider your line of action." Said a tall middle-aged
woman with short red hair.
"So many changes at once are hard to accept. It would be better to implement them one by
one over time."
"One by one over time." The Queen echoed, drumming with her slender fingers on the
armrest.
"Tell me, dear Bolna, how long has the Mage Association tried to change the rules nice and
easy, to avoid unrest?" Her tone was calm and amiable, causing those present to shudder.
The Queen was many things, but amiable was not one of those. As any purebred politician,
she was capable of hiding her emotions and thoughts whenever it was necessary, but her
nature was that of a fiery woman, passionate in everything she did.
When speaking about state affairs with her counsellors, she would not mince words or waste
time with niceties. Her being calm meant that a storm was incoming.
"Over forty years." The woman swallowed a lump of saliva, forcing herself to answer without
trembling.
"Even before my crowning, yes. And how many rules have been actually been changed until
now?"
"None."
"Last question. How many potential Magi did we lose during all this time?" Her voice had
turned stone cold.
"At least four." Incapable of returning the Queen's gaze, Bolna lowered her eyes.
"All of them defected swearing an oath of vengeance."
"Let me get this straight." The Queen pulled back her chair, standing up. She was a woman of
average stature 1.62 meters (5'4") high with a slender build.
Despite being held up in a chignon, the long black hair still revealed her uncanny gift for the
mystical arts, with all the six shades of colours marking her as blessed by all the gods of magic.
"We lost four one-man armies for nothing but petty grudges, and your great idea is to keep
up t
he 'good work'?" The Queen moved so fast that one could think she had Blinked, but the
blur behind her told a different story. She had simply walked.
"Do you think that when the god of death returns from the Blood Desert, leading the army of
undead that he has been raising for all this time, will he take his revenge bit by bit overtime,
or just slaughter us all?"
Sylpha said while lifting her by the neck with only one hand, despite Bolna was taller and
double her weight. None dared to interfere. All of those present were very powerful
archmages, but there was a reason for Sylpha being the Queen.
She was capable of casting several spells with barely any delay, moving faster than a wild
beast and ripping in half a fully armed knight with her bare hands. Many suspected she was
actually a dragon in human form.
"Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result is the very definition of
madness." She brought Bolna's purple face near her own.
"Your masters should have trained you better." Sylpha clenched her fist, producing a snap,
before throwing the body in a corner of the room. Bolna's head was now tilted at an
unnatural angle, her limbs sprawled under the heavy magician robe.
"Now that we got rid of the spy among our ranks, we shouldn't lose so many agents
anymore." She said returning to her chair.
"Bolna was a spy?!" Everyone was shocked at the news, questioning and discussing what had
just happened.
"Yes, she was." The Queen rubbed her forehead with a sad expression. She looked tired and
thin, with no trace of her previous vigour.
"The old families have their men and women planted everywhere. Academies, Court, even
the Mage Association is not outside their grasp. They know I invested too much money and
energies in the White Griffon.
If my project fails, it will be only on me. I would be left with no choice but leave everything as
it is, hoping that my successor will have better skill and luck. I may even be forced to resign as
head of the Mage Association and leave the position to one of my children.
I already have too many failures on my shoulders, another one of such significance and my
authority and role would be greatly diminished. Even I would question my competence."
Th Queen's aides didn't know what to say, so they waited in silence for her to recover.
A True Genius Worries Page 12
