Marin's Codex

by Benjamin Medrano

  “How long would the barrier last?” Emonael asked curiously, frowning at the thought of the spell to destroy the library.

  “That depends on attackers, but up to a day. I’m planning to set up a secondary one around the internal tower too, but that’ll come later,” Marin replied absently, finishing the diagram and slowly standing, wincing visibly. “I think I was on my knees for a little too long.”

  “You shouldn’t kneel like that, then. I suppose a day might work,” Emonael admitted, frowning as she added, “I wish you wouldn’t talk about burning the library, though. It makes my heart ache every time you do.”

  “Not surprising, but I’m also surprised you haven’t realized that I’ve been ever so slightly misleading everyone about what would happen,” Marin replied, grinning as she nodded toward the stairs. “Let’s go downstairs; I want to sit down and rest for a minute.”

  “As you like, Teacher . . . but what do you mean about misleading us?” Emonael asked, her eyes narrowing as she followed the mage downstairs.

  “The library will go up in flames, yes. However, that will be right after the contents of the library are teleported to my hidden vault, and the fake, blank version of the library currently in the vault are teleported back onto the shelves here. A most complicated ruse to set up, but one which I feel was well worth the time,” Marin replied, reaching the bottom of the stairs and glancing at Emonael, then laughing. “Oh, the look on your face!”

  “Teacher! How . . .” Emonael gasped in disbelief, staring at Marin. “That shouldn’t even be possible! Teleportation is nearly impossible; it only seems to work from one point to another, usually on elemental nodes!”

  “Exactly right. And this tower is directly on top of an earth node,” Marin replied, her tone slightly smug as she stepped into the library and pulled out her chair, sinking into it gratefully. “As for my vault, it’s in the Monastery of Hidden Words, on a node to the north. I paid them quite well to keep it quiet.”

  “Teacher, why are you telling me this now?” Emonael asked, trying to tamp down on the sense of incredulousness that was bubbling up inside her. The sheer amount of preparation that Marin’s scheme would’ve taken was daunting, even with what she knew of her teacher’s tendency to focus on her goals.

  “I’m telling you because I’ve decided to trust you fully. You’re my heir, Emonael, and if something happens to me . . .” Marin paused for a long moment as she thought, and the demon couldn’t help staring as she pulled out a chair for herself. Finally, Marin sighed and shook her head, asking, “Do you know what my greatest fear is?”

  “I’ve always thought that it was that you wouldn’t finish your research before you died,” Emonael replied after a moment, feeling a little more subdued. “Isn’t it?”

  “That’s a fear, yes, but not the one which is weighing on me now. Unless I’m killed outright, I possess the magic to ensure that I’ll last long enough to finish my work. No, my greatest fear is that my research will be suppressed, destroyed, or hoarded. That it’ll be finished, then forgotten,” Marin replied, looking down at her hands, which Emonael realized were trembling. “So, I’m going to offer you the keys to the vault, Emonael. Oh, I’m certain you could get your hands on the books even without them . . . but all I ask, Emonael, is that you don’t allow my research to be forgotten. It’s my life’s work, and I don’t have time to ensure that what I wish for is done.”

  “But what about the others? Hothar, Larin, Reesa, and Valis?” Emonael protested, her mind stumbling slightly as it raced through the possibilities, trying to untangle the confused emotions rushing through her. A part of her was elated at the possibilities ahead of her, but another part was almost angry, as if she was upset by the thought of Marin dying so soon. “I don’t think—”

  “I can’t trust them with this,” Marin interrupted softly, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “All but Valis are too selfish in their own ways, and I can’t trust that they wouldn’t try to build their own magical dynasties with my research. Valis is selfless in many ways, but he’d try to ensure that only Pharos had the use of the research, which would lead to problems in its own ways, and might lead to my fears coming about. I trust you, Emonael. You chose to believe in my research, when most others scoffed in derision.”

  “I . . .” Emonael paused for a long moment, sighing as she came to a decision and spoke again. “As you wish. I promise, on my name and magic, that if it is within my power, I will not allow your research to be buried and forgotten.”

  Marin’s eyes snapped open and her eyebrows rose at the oath. “That’s a bit stronger of a promise than I expected, Emonael. Especially from you.”

  “Why shouldn’t I make a promise of that nature? You’re entrusting me with centuries of your work!” Emonael countered, somewhat surprised at her own smile.

  “Largely because such an oath is particularly dangerous for you,” the High Mage said, shaking her head in obvious confusion. “It’s bad enough for mortals, but for a demon like yourself . . .”

  Emonael froze, staring at Marin for a long moment as she was almost paralyzed by shock. Licking her lips, she spoke again, managing to speak incredulously despite the near-panic racing through her mind. “What’re you talking about, Teacher? I’m not a demon!”

  “Yes, you are. I knew what you were the moment you came to my door the first time, Emonael. I’d been experimenting with a spell to see the true form of things that morning, and the spell was still active when I opened the door,” Marin told her, laughing softly as she sat back and shook her head. “The pendant I gave you, to help you through my wards? I’ll admit it carries a few measures that were intended for if you betrayed me, but they were also there to keep others from noticing your true nature. In the end, I’ve grown to trust you, since you’ve done nothing to harm me or the Association.”

  Emonael resisted the urge to respond instantly, instead taking a moment to think. Eventually she simply chuckled softly, shaking her head as she sat back, relaxing. “I suppose that denying it at this point doesn’t make sense. I’m also somewhat chagrined that you realized without me noticing that you’d done so.”

  “That’s because you were overconfident. Demons are innately able to use some forms of magic, unlike mortals, so you have an inborn sense of superiority over us. I’ve seen it before,” Marin told Emonael, reaching for a flask of water and unscrewing the lid to take a drink. “If someone figured out what you were, what were you going to do?”

  “That depends on the situation and how they reacted. As you’ve noticed, I didn’t do anything to you,” Emonael replied. “If I was in bed . . . probably drain them entirely. Most magi I’d fight, then run afterward. If it was a High Mage like yourself, I’d almost certainly run for my life.”

  “You’re being short-sighted. If you’re my apprentice, you need to learn to plan ahead, Emonael,” Marin scolded, setting the flask aside and leaning forward. “Do you think I set up the spells for my library on a whim? I started preparing them back when I built the tower, just to be safe. If I really wanted to, I could expand them to transport me as well, but that’s a far more complicated series of spells, and maintaining the existing hanging spells is difficult enough as it is. What you need to do is make certain that you have an escape plan in every situation. Otherwise, you’ll end up in a position where you can’t run or fight, and I’ll be very put out. Always have an escape plan.”

  “Teacher, are you really telling me this? I mean . . . you’re giving advice to a demon!” Emonael asked, unable to hide her shock.

  “You’re the one I’ve chosen as my heir; beyond that, what does a little issue like your species matter?” Marin asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Though I do have to admit, there’s part of me that’s been rather disappointed. I didn’t think I was so plain that even a succubus would turn up her nose at me.”

  Marin’s comment prompted an involuntary giggle from Emonael, and she shook her head as she spoke. “You . . . you aren’t too plain, Teacher.
That’s hardly an issue at all.”

  “Oh? Am I too old, then?” Marin asked, brushing a hair away from her face. “It obviously isn’t my power. I can practically feel Valis’s faint aura on you, after all.”

  “Pfft. I suppose you could say that, but not in the way you’re meaning,” Emonael told her teacher, smiling more naturally now. “Yes, I’m somewhat worried about the idea of facing any of you High Magi in direct combat, but not in my own arena. My worry about you is how close you are to the end of your life. The way souls work . . . yours is particularly fragile, and might not heal properly if I harm it. It could accelerate your death, and the last thing I want is for you to die before finishing your research.”

  “Ah, much is explained. The selfish nature of demons at work. You value my research more than me,” Marin teased, and as Emonael inhaled to protest, the elf waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t try to deny it. I can’t say that I’m any better. Over seven centuries old, and the number of real friends I possess can be counted on a single hand. That assumes that some of them are even still among the living, in fact. I’ve lived for my research, so how can I blame you for wanting it as well?”

  “That isn’t entirely true, Teacher,” Emonael disagreed, shaking her head. “Oh, it was at first, don’t get me wrong. But I’ve come to admire your dedication to what you’ve decided you’re going to do, and the brilliance that it took to put all of this together.”

  “Hah! Anyone could do this if they had the time. The information I’ve gathered, the research I’ve done . . . it’s only the beginning; you know that,” the elf murmured. “I’m curious what people will make of it, in the end. They’ll still probably end up specializing in specific styles of magic. It’s curious how similar gestures in spells have similar results.”

  “You’re giving other people too much credit. I’m sure that if anyone could put together all the information you have, they could figure everything out, but you’ve done most of this on your own. I’ve only scratched the surface of your journals,” Emonael scolded. “Besides, you had the right suspicions centuries ago.”

  “Yes, and it took until now for me to actually prove myself right,” Marin retorted, and shook her head. “Still, let’s change the subject. I doubt we’re going to agree on it.”

  “I suppose that’s true . . .” Emonael admitted, pausing a moment before asking. “So, how’d you get the teleportation to work? I know you said it was between two mana nodes, but no one I’ve heard of has been able to figure out why some nodes allow it, and others don’t.”

  “Ah! That one’s actually surprisingly simple in the end. Tell me, have you ever been to Dallat, the western continent?” Marin asked, her eyes brightening.

  “I haven’t. I’ve spent most of my time in the lower planes, and the handful of times I’ve been summoned, it’s been to the northern realms,” Emonael replied, tilting her head curiously.

  “I see. Well, I went there during my travels. I settled down only a century ago, you know. Anyway, there’s a massive forest out that way, ruled by a number of clans of fey, with a single incredibly powerful nymph over all of them. They call the forest the Eternal Wood, and it certainly seems to live up to the name.” Marin’s eyes grew slightly distant as she reminisced. “The magic in the forest is thick and powerful, and it took some time to gain their trust. When I did, they decided to show me something they normally don’t allow outsiders to see.”

  “I think I have heard something about the forest . . . a few other demons avoid the place like the plague, since the inhabitants are quite powerful,” Emonael murmured, her eyes narrowing. “They also said something about space folding around the forest. But what does that have to do with nodes?”

  “I’m getting there, don’t be impatient. You have all the time in the world,” Marin chided gently. “You’re right on space folding. It’s a thousand miles from the border to the center of the forest, no matter that if you circle the Wood it appears to be only two hundred miles across. At its center is a massive tree, though; one which they call the World Tree. Seeing it in person . . . I must admit that it struck me with awe, for the branches of the tree extend into the clouds themselves, and the region thrums with so much mana I was nearly drunk on it. It was there that I learned of the ley lines, though.”

  “Ley lines?” Emonael asked curiously.

  “That’s what the fey called them, at least. Think of them as conduits of mana that extend outward through the land, sea, and sky. Periodically they create upwellings of mana and branch outward, crossing the world to create a web of power.” Marin explained, and smiled as she asked, “Can you guess what the upwellings are?”

  “Nodes?” Emonael guessed, though she didn’t feel that it was a fair question. “So, you’re saying what? That these ley lines determine where you can teleport to?”

  “Exactly. They’re rivers of mana that flow outward from the World Tree, from node to node across the entire world. Teleportation simply uses them as roads to go from point to point. The problem is mapping them. I only knew about them because the fey could see the flow of mana going outward from the tree, and they taught me about it,” Marin explained. “In the end, I managed to kludge together a spell that worked, and which I refined with my research. A dwarven prospecting spell that searched an area for metal, combined with a mana detection spell.”

  “I see! That certainly makes sense,” Emonael agreed, and grinned as she asked. “Kludged a spell together, though? I never thought I’d hear that term from you.”

  “It’s the right term, though. The doing was . . . unpleasant. I nearly lost a hand in one experiment,” Marin said sourly, shaking her head. “Thank Balvess for my healing magic.”

  “That would be unpleasant,” Emonael agreed. “In any case, you look like you’re doing better, Teacher. Since I don’t have to pretend to be the ignorant student with you, would you mind teaching me how your little ritual spell upstairs works?”

  “I’ll do better than that, I’ll even let you help with it,” Marin replied, standing up slowly. “After all, it might be useful for whatever escape plan you come up with.”

  Emonael rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help a smile as she replied. “Whatever you say, Teacher. I promise to keep it in mind.”

  “You’d better. I’ll be very put out if you manage to die and let my research be controlled by the others,” Marin told her, her eyes narrowing for a moment, then headed into the tower. “Still, let’s get to work. Time waits for no one.”

  Chapter 13

  Marin waited as patiently as she could manage while Emonael slowly flipped through Marin’s Codex, Volume 1. Part of her desperately wanted her apprentice to hurry up, but the sane part of her kept chiding that part of herself. The last thing she wanted at this stage was to have missed something vital in writing the book. At least the volume wasn’t terribly long, so Emonael’s review shouldn’t take too much longer.

  Even with that knowledge, the wait was nearly agonizing for her, so Marin busied herself with arranging the notes she’d mostly finished putting together for writing the second volume. The first three volumes wouldn’t be too difficult, but the next three would likely be pushing into the next year. More than enough time for Emonael to prove her research with a few students, Marin hoped.

  “This looks good to me so far. You’ve cleared up quite a few of the more difficult explanations that we discussed, so this is simple enough that most people should be able to understand it. Assuming they can read elven, at least,” Emonael spoke at last, turning another page. “I’m impressed at how quickly you managed to write it, though! Nearly two hundred pages in two weeks? I think it’d take me two months.”

  “I’ve had a lot of practice over the years. I suspect you could do it faster than that, if you didn’t spend so much of your time socializing,” Marin told her student, smiling and relaxing slightly at the demon’s praise. “I know why you do, but even so . . .”

  “I’m supposed to be younger than you, so I have to kee
p up with the times,” Emonael sniffed in mock derision, then smiled. “Still, it does look good. I have about half of it to go through, but the first half is clear enough. Since this volume is about the tones and gestures, what’re the next few going to be about?”

  “I consider the first three volumes to be more for apprentices and basic knowledge than anything else. The next two will be addressing the variables that we’ve worked out, and how to adjust the gestures of many common spells to change the effects they have, split up based on the element they’re an aspect of. It’s still more of a broad overview, with many examples like in this volume, but that’s the problem with trying to make a comprehensive reference,” Marin explained, sighing. “After that things are going to get harder.”

  “That makes sense to me. You’re going to be putting ritual magic into volume four, then?” Emonael guessed, sitting back and looking at Marin curiously.

  “No, that’s going to be pushed back. What each gesture and associated tone affects is going to be first. There’s no point to going over ritual magic before teaching people the basics of creating their own spells. It’s still going to be a brutal task to simplify it down to fit into only one or two volumes . . .” Marin’s voice trailed off and she sighed, reaching up to rub her eyes. “When I think about it that way, the task is utterly daunting, Emonael. How can I write all of this properly, in a way people will understand it? We’re not even talking about ley lines or the more complicated aspects of magic yet.”

  “You can do it. You taught me enough to make an enormous difference in just a few months, Teacher. I’m just happy you taught me the spell to allow me to rapidly transcribe copies of the book. Otherwise making copies for the other High Magi would take forever.” Emonael replied, glancing down at the book she was holding almost reverently.