Marin's Codex

by Benjamin Medrano

  “In that case, someone either wants my research, or wants it destroyed.” Marin sighed, shaking her head. She considered a long moment, then continued. “I supposed I’d better speed things up.”

  “Is that wise? I mean, there’s a lot of tests you haven’t performed yet.” Emonael asked, looking doubtful. “You just started the fifth volume.”

  “Ritual magic, spell construction, ley lines . . . all of it is simply expansions on things I’ve already done, Emonael. While I’d love to take things slow and do this in more detail, we’ve done the vast majority of the research for this already,” Marin explained, and sighed. “I had hoped that it wouldn’t come to something like this. I hoped that the last days of my research would be peaceful, that those around me might even try to help me spread the knowledge far and wide. Alas, that hope was in vain. Too many people are selfish, wanting to keep things as they are, or to keep precious knowledge to themselves.”

  “We won’t let them succeed, Teacher. You have my word on that already, and my promise is absolute,” Emonael assured her, smiling broadly. “So, where do you want me to start? I can try hunting down these interfering jerks if you really want me to.”

  “As tempting as your offer might be, I think that would be going a touch too far, and attract attention I don’t need,” Marin said. “Instead, I have the fourth volume, so why don’t you get to copying it? Your students have been asking about it, haven’t they?”

  “Yes, they have. In fact, I think they might be getting a little too cocky, though yesterday seems to have put at least a little fear into them. Near-death experiences tend to do that,” Emonael said, sighing as she nodded. “I’ll get the book copied and to the other High Magi. My students are just going to have to wait until they’re ready for the chance to delve into the more advanced topics. I think there’s at least a one in ten chance that Nia would overestimate herself and explode the entire Grand Hall.”

  Marin couldn’t help giggling at the thought, remembering the look of embarrassment on the young woman’s face when she’d pinned herself to the ceiling, then murmuring, “You’re likely right, at that. Who do you have the highest hopes for?”

  “Christoff and Damiya. Christoff has the steadiness and determination to go far, even if he doesn’t excel in the same way as the others do. Damiya has the fire to do it,” Emonael said promptly. “The rest . . . yes, I chose them. But I just don’t have the same hopes as I do for those two at this point.”

  “Fair enough. Now shoo, I’m going to get to work. Gods know that I have to get moving if I’m going to get these written quickly,” Marin murmured, taking a deep breath.

  “Just take care of your health, Teacher. As much as I want the research, I’d far rather keep you alive as long as possible,” Emonael cautioned, prompting another laugh from Marin.

  “As you like. Now shoo!” Marin said, reaching out to tap the demon on the nose. Only once she was gone did Marin turn back to her pages. She had the information she needed; now all she had to do was write it down. Taking a moment to trim the quill, Marin began to write in earnest, a strange sense of foreboding hanging over her. After all, who knew how much time would pass until another attack came? She would likely have to ignore Emonael’s request, if she was being honest.

  “I hope that none of you object to my making you practice shield spells so much before this?” Emonael asked, looking at her students and resisting the urge to grin at them.

  “I never complained about it!” Damiya protested, looking slightly taken aback.

  “No, you didn’t. Neither did Christoff, but that’s partially because the two of you nearly got eaten by a pair of drakes, along with me. The others, though . . .” Emonael’s voice trailed off as she looked at Andrew, Nia, and Uthar, all of whom looked guilty as she finished. “I did hear the complaining the three of you did, since the spell is more complicated than most of those you’ve been taught before or since.”

  “I’ll admit, I didn’t understand why you put such an emphasis on shields for so long,” Uthar admitted, bowing his head as he continued. “I did also wish that you would move on more quickly, Emonael. However, my opinion has now changed. Had you not emphasized the spell so greatly, and forced us to gain mastery of it, we very well may have perished yesterday. I apologize for my actions and words before this.”

  “Agreed! I was just . . . I get impatient. A shield didn’t feel all that impressive to me,” Nia agreed, swallowing hard. “I’d always thought that the idea of shooting fire or lightning was amazing, but . . . but they aren’t much good if you can’t survive the battle, are they?”

  “No, they aren’t,” Emonael agreed, her eyes settling on Andrew, whose eyes were downcast. A moment later she asked. “Andrew?”

  “I’m sorry, Emonael. I’ve . . . I’ve tried hard as your student, but I guess at some point I lost sight of why I wanted to be a mage. I started thinking that there were better things to learn, and maybe even that I knew better than you,” Andrew replied slowly, his voice low. “It was . . . frightening, yesterday. Those monsters and the howls. Yet I also saw how much weaker than everyone else I am. I’m never going to make it as a mage, am I?”

  “If you want to give up now, you can do that,” Emonael replied, her voice sharp as sudden anger kindled inside her. “If you feel that you lack the confidence, you can go home, secure in the knowledge that you were granted the keys to change the world, yet didn’t have the stomach for it!”

  “E-Emonael?” Christoff interjected, seeming shocked at her words, and everyone stared as Emonael ignored him, stepping forward and staring at Andrew.

  “Have you not seen Marin? She struggles to cast spells at half the speed any of us can manage, and for two reasons. First, she’s a perfectionist. She has to make certain every spell is perfect, because her attention to detail doesn’t allow her to do otherwise . . . and that’s fueled by the fact that she cannot channel mana the way we do. If Nia could cast spells as quickly as she can channel mana, she could cast a spell in one tenth the amount of time that Marin does!” Emonael told him, glowering at Andrew. “My teacher has been that way for her entire life! When she was sixty winters old, as an apprentice she was cast out because of her lack of ‘talent’ because her teacher found a ‘better’ apprentice, the current Holy Priestess of Charda! Yet despite that, she didn’t give up. She traveled the world, ignoring every mocking word and phrase, and slowly clawing her way past her deficiency to become one of the most powerful magi in the kingdom, and in the world!

  “You started without Marin’s innate mana reserves, but that’s all you lack. Those can be developed. You’re being offered the fruits of her knowledge and learning, so please, decide whether or not you have the courage to actually take the gift which she’s offered you and use it, or whether you want to crawl back home and feel sorry for yourself!” Emonael’s rant came to a close, breathing hard as she looked around the small clearing at the others. The shock on their faces was obvious, but she didn’t much care at the moment.

  “I . . . I’m sorry, Emonael. I didn’t realize that she’d had it that hard,” Andrew replied, his voice shaking, and he swallowed again before trying to explain more calmly. “I promise, I won’t complain anymore.”

  “When we came to the Association, everyone called her Mad Marin, because they thought that her quest was just that; completely and utterly mad.” Christoff spoke softly, looking at the ground. “I regret that I thought the same, no matter how deeply I buried it.”

  “I don’t care if you complain. I don’t care if you think she’s crazy, or that I’m a taskmaster and witch. I care about whether or not you take the easy road and give up,” Emonael replied, letting her scowl fade slightly. “Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Teacher,” Nia spoke first, her back straightening as she asked, “Where do we start today?”

  “Good. Now, since we’ve had a few too many difficulties of late, I’m going to be teaching each of you more combat spells,” Emonael explained, trying to suppre
ss her anger at whomever had been attacking them. “It won’t be easy, but I’d rather have all of you prepared to defend yourselves if things truly go badly.”

  All of them perked up slightly at her explanation, and Emonael couldn’t help but wonder why so many people were fascinated by combat spells. Certainly, they were useful in some situations, but they weren’t nearly as flexible as other types of magic.

  Grumbling wouldn’t help at all, though, so Emonael took a deep breath and got to work, planning to whip her students into shape as best she could. She was going to be busy copying books again soon enough.

  Chapter 28

  The weeks began to pass in a blur for Marin, as for the first time in months, she truly plunged into her research and ignored everything around her. Everything beyond the tower may as well not exist as far as she was concerned, and she focused every bit of energy and attention on piecing together her research in the most concise way possible. Hundreds of years of research, thousands of years’ worth of spell development by other casters, and she was trying to boil it down into less than two thousand pages of writing. It was a daunting project, but she refused to think about that. Marin couldn’t allow herself to be intimidated by it now.

  Emonael occasionally broke through Marin’s haze, but the High Mage gently removed her student from the room once any requests were dealt with, not willing to allow anything to interrupt fully. Her days and nights were filled with the intricate designs of ritual spells, the web of ley lines, and the interactions of mana with one another. Only by living and breathing it could Marin find the words to express what it was that she was trying to convey in the time that she had.

  So she ignored the concerns of others, and one by one, Marin completed each volume in turn; from the fifth through the eighth took her three months. Marin could almost taste the end of them ahead of her, as she burned through her supply of quills at an increasingly quick rate.

  At first, Emonael wasn’t too concerned at the degree with which Marin was concentrating on her research. She already knew that her teacher would be focusing on getting the other volumes done as quickly as possible, but as time progressed, she grew worried.

  Marin didn’t just focus on her research, she immersed herself in it. Every waking moment was wrapped around her books and writing. One day, Emonael had walked into the tower to find that Marin had scribbled hundreds of complex runes, notes, and spell-forms on the walls with chalk, which concerned her deeply.

  It didn’t help that Emonael couldn’t pay nearly as much attention to Marin as she wanted to. Her time had multiple draws on it, from teaching the others to being turned into the effective liaison between Marin, the High Magi of the Association, and the newly arrived war magi that the king had sent to help guard the grounds. Marin wasn’t talking to anyone else, so it quickly fell on Emonael to deal with all others, whether she liked it or not.

  “I’d really rather speak with the High Mage herself about her precautions,” Lord Vince the Resplendent said, the scarred elven mage tapping his finger idly on the table. “Is it truly impossible to do so? I know that you’re a skilled magister, Emonael, but no one knows as much about defenses as those who put their wards into place.”

  “If you’d arrived at any time in the last year, I would’ve happily helped you speak with her, Lord Vince,” Emonael told him, shrugging helplessly. “However, with the previous attack, Teacher decided to accelerate her research, and the results were unanticipated for me. She’s completely lost herself in it, and every attempt I’ve made to draw her out has met with failure. If I’m being honest, it has me a touch worried.”

  “She’s right, Vince,” Hothar nodded in agreement, looking worried. “I tried visiting the other day, and I may as well have been talking to a brick wall. She was muttering something about the flow of mana, nodes, and something about the layout of ley lines. When I tried to insist that she answer, she cast a silence spell around me and continued her research.”

  “Wonderful. In that case, anything you can tell me about what to expect from the High Mage’s defenses would be wonderful, Emonael,” Lord Vince sighed, shaking his head. “His Majesty warned me this would be a difficult assignment. Oh, and please, call me Vince. We’re all magi here, and there’s no need to stand on ceremony unless we’re in public. I leave that to Valis.”

  “I don’t insist on formality in private!” the fire mage protested, sitting up in his chair.

  “As you wish, Vince,” Emonael acknowledged, sitting forward in her chair. “As for defenses, Marin’s tower has minimal wards to stop intrusion, enough to keep out most apprentices and some master magi, as well as complex wards to warn her of intrusions. I’m the only one who has access to bypass them, though the other High Magi have tokens that can allow them entry easily a single time. However, those are merely the passive defenses she’s set up, and they require minimal maintenance every month, which I can perform.”

  “Remarkable that she can make them last that long,” Lord Vince murmured, his eyebrows raising. “At the palace, the magi need to work on the spells almost daily. Still, you mention active defenses?”

  “Yes, there are two that I’m personally aware of. Each is what Marin referred to as a ‘hanging’ spell. She built the spell, powered it, then didn’t fully activate it. It requires less maintenance than if they were fully powered, but more than the current spells because of their strength,” Emonael explained, frowning slightly. She wasn’t entirely happy with explaining any of the defenses, but these shouldn’t hurt anything. “The first wards the entire building, and the second shields the tower itself. Once activated, the spells create massive barriers that prevent anyone from entering or exiting the building, and would require the combined power of four to five high magi a minimum of an hour to breach, at her estimates. They can otherwise last up to a day, but that’s only if they aren’t under active assault.”

  “I see. That’s something of a relief, and I must say that it makes me feel better,” Lord Vince nodded firmly. “Is there anything else about the tower I need to know?”

  “Marin has a spell set up to torch her entire library should she be killed.” Emonael said bluntly, not telling them about the failsafe. If that went off, the library was hers, after all. “Also, the experiments she sometimes performs can be visually impressive, loud, or otherwise chaotic. Unless the building is actually on fire or glowing with shields, don’t enter it. You’re likely to annoy her.”

  “That seems like another jab at me . . .” Valis murmured, and Emonael’s sober mood lightened slightly as she smiled at him.

  “You were only trying to help, and it’s a good example of what we’re talking about. With Marin’s current mood, interrupting is bad. She’s working on the sixth volume as we speak, and I’m working on the copies as well. We have our work cut out for us,” Emonael told him, looking at the war mage before asking. “Is there anything you can tell me, Vince? I know that Larin is helping with the scouting at the moment, and Reesa is helping build the lodging, but I don’t know much else.”

  “I’m afraid that I don’t know much more than you. I have a dozen magi with me, and we’re going to do our damnedest to secure the area, but this region has never been fully civilized. There’re bandits and smugglers in the woods, and monsters in the mountains that haven’t learned we aren’t food yet.” Vince told her, shaking his head. “Worse, whoever has been behind the raids on the Association hasn’t shown any sign of who they might be. We think Tethlyn is involved, but that’s just a vague suspicion at the moment. Gods know that there’s enough ill blood between our countries, and even the rumors of what the High Mage is up to have to have them on edge. There’s only so much we can do without a direct threat. If I had a solid target, I’d come down on them with all the force I can muster, but they have the initiative right now.”

  “A most unpleasant situation,” Hothar said unhappily. “The only High Magi in the Association who’re decent at lasting defenses, aside from Marin, are Reesa and myself, and our
powers aren’t good for our particular situation. If you needed ramparts and fortifications, we could do well, or if you wanted her to make the forest grow even more unruly, but that would just make it harder to patrol. We haven’t had enough time to pick up enough new spells yet.”

  “Exactly. I just hope to all the gods they don’t have a mage capable of flight like High Mage Larin. That would be very close to a nightmare scenario for me, combined with a summoner,” Lord Vince groused, but took a deep breath, sitting back and looking Emonael in the eyes. “Still, we’re going to do what we can. If you can help, we’d appreciate it as well. I don’t suppose we could get a copy or two of these early books to try to make things a little easier for us, could we?”

  “I’ll try to ask Teacher, but unless she tells me that it’s allowed, I’m afraid not. I made an oath on my very magic,” Emonael explained. “Hopefully she’ll agree.”

  “Fair enough. I’ve taken up enough of your time, and I need to see about getting these patrols properly organized,” Vince conceded, standing up and nodding at all of them. “It’s a pleasure to meet other magi, and I hope to see a lot of you in the future.”

  Emonael nodded, letting out a soft sigh of relief as she stood herself. She needed to let off some tension, and she knew how to go about it.

  “Emonael . . . is Marin okay?” Damiya’s words were unexpected, and the succubus couldn’t help but tense ever so slightly at them despite the other woman’s gentle embrace.

  “Why do you ask? I think I would’ve said something if she wasn’t doing well,” Emonael replied after a moment, unwrapping an arm to raise Damiya’s chin to look at her. The lighting in the room was dim, but it was more than enough to illuminate her friend’s eyes, and to see the concern in them.