Asheron's Fall: The Power of Ten, Book Six

“Which is passing strange, as in the Matrix system, obsidian has a clear affiliation for necromancy, binding souls, and bloodletting. It’s the preferred thing to make a sacrificial knife from, for instance,” I informed him.

He was silent for a minute with that, as was Kris. “Well, that’s a right ominous thing t’ learn. And in combination with a Diamond Scarab, no less?”

“Yes. I ground up some supplies of each, as we have some among our salvage that we sifted up, even if it was mostly inert and useless. Hoarded against the chance someone might find a use for it, I guess.”

“That sounds like an unwholesome combination, Ryin,” Princess Kristie commented, still trotting along at the speed a normal man could only sprint. We should reach our first destination within the hour, despite the terrain and our occasional swerving diversions to clean out Summons and get some Naming Karma. “Boosting the power of necromantic magic in your spells?”

“What? No, no!” I laughed softly. “The obsidian tracks and absorbs the darkest elements in the roving mana, and the crystal component incinerates them, purifying the magic and cleansing it for the next stage.

“Of course, it took me quite a few tries to get the mixture and formation of the taper right. I was lucky that some of the dead masters there were also experienced alchemists involved in the making of the prismatic tapers, and had some very useful examples on how to proceed with the formation of the things.”

“No doubt eager to see what else might be done with such an odd combination of reactive elements, too,” Kris observed dryly.

“One doesn’t just shut off the thirst for knowledge, and I confess to being interested with what they might find out… although I warned them that if they tried the combination for the manner in which you commented, they might well damn themselves and all those around them, so stay away from blatant empowerment of vast negative energies, mmm?”

“I doubt they be wanting to make their condition any worse, but with the dead, eh...” the Mick trailed off, shaking his head. “We can only trust their duty at this point.”

“Which has availed us well, so let’s trust in it. It’s not the undead Tradition of the Empyreans, which is significant at this point, nor the corruption involved with the shades.”

“Fair enough. Did ye manage to work out some Gold spells, then?” he inquired.

“Technically, no. However, I managed to boost my Silvers to Gold level, as it turns out. The power of absolutely nothing rose… but I was able to affect duration, range, and so forth and so on, instead.”

“It applies a Meta to your spells?” Kristie asked sharply.

“Exactly two of the Basic Metas, of my choice at the time of Casting. Double range and double duration, or affect two different targets. Same cost as a normal Gold spell.”

“That be interesting. What o’ the Pyreal, and Platinum Scarabs?” the Mick inquired.

“I don’t have the skill level to vie for either of those, and won’t for some time. The masters are aware of the one point a day limit, and like you lament its existence. It certainly didn’t exist during their rise to power, and they were somewhat surprised when I reminded them that it was the normal limit back on Ispar, too.”

“It were never even important a detail t’ consider until we came t’ this world,” the Mick agreed calmly. “Raising multiple Levels or points in one day, when might that have ever happened to any o’ us? And we wouldn’t have known it were even possible elsewhere, since it were not at home.”

“Karmic buffets didn’t happen too much at home,” Princess Kristie agreed. “Do you have to keep the new tapers on you, or can you ignore them like you do most components?”

“I have to use the Diamond Scarabs or the tapers, but not both. No Material Components won’t let me waive both of them,” I reported. “I’ve a supply of both, the dead Masters were kind enough to scare up a few dozen Diamond Scarabs between them.”

“Hunting down Diamond Golums t’ scavenge a heart be a dangerous an’ time-consuming task, lass,” the Mick stated with the air of experience. “I be not sure how many reserves o’ such things we have left, but they won’t be cheap.”

“I might be able to barter with some knowledge of my own, Lord Mick,” I replied calmly, and he half-laughed.

“Aye. They’ll want ye to share everything with them, an’ then pay ye nothing for it all, then demand taxes for what favors they did bother to give you, like room an’ board, or the pyreal coin yer burnin’ away, shameless waster of precious metal that ye are.”

“I see you understand the proclivities of government revenue units and the educational institutions funded by them.” He guffawed at me. “Actually, I intend to do some reinforcing and empowering of the Diamond Scarabs I have to massively increase their resilience and resistance to consumption, which should greatly reduce or completely ameliorate their vulnerability to such things. If successful, I might be able to do things like create Eternal Scarabs of the various tiers, meaning you’d only have to carry one of each, ever.”

“And the Feat ye mention means no more carrying o’ the tapers,” the Mick mused, patting the satchel at his left hip. “Lass, ye’ll turn the heads of the old, wise blowhards on their ears if ye dare revolutionize the magic like that!”

I just rolled my eyes. “Avoiding unnecessary wealth sinks is like common sense, Lord Mick. I’d almost say the Isparian system’s proclivity to burn away components is almost designed to be a money pit you never grow out of.”

“Aye, an’ aren’t no cheaper now that pyreal is scarce an’ the need for magic be no less than it were a decade ago,” the Mick agreed. “Oh, before it escapes me. I actually know the fellow what used to own the Islandwatch Villa, though he be gone during the Fall with so many others.”

“Interesting, if not surprising. How about the owner of the Mansion we’ll be stopping at?”

“I knew OF them, but we weren’t friends. Cloudrider Allegiance, kind of snooty fellows with elitist attitudes,” the Mick scoffed. “Now, Fremont, he were a bit o’ a madman, crazy Life an’ War spec mage running up to kill things in personal combat before it were all stylish an’ the like.

“He were a bit of an odd duck, a musician on the side, always hoping they’d find some kind of combat magic that involved singing or playing a yitar or drumming really well. When he finally got tired o’ charging into bands of virindi an’ getting himself blown apart, he did a lot of pub rounds as an entertainer to keep himself amused, knew everybody everywhere.

“Must not have given up some o’ the prime gear, tho, as he’s not been seen since the Fall, like so many others...” he trailed off, flexing his left hand and its missing finger without noticing.

“He have anything interesting we could hope to salvage?” Princess Kristie asked smoothly, pretending not to notice the gesture, either.

“Probably not. The place is high up an’ fairly dry, an’ I be sure the inside’s been poked around by the curious many times over the years.

“But the magic ye have has been capable of Sifting out things I’d no idea were there, so mayhap we’ll have a bit of a surprise.”

------

“Huh. Well, color me surprised,” the Mick admitted, as Kris pitched the last three-hundred pound chunk of stone out of the way, and a swirling play of lights arose from beneath it.

It was a small shield, not much bigger than a buckler, and a rough circle of lights was rotating about it. I cocked my head at it as I looked at it.

“That’s more force structure than material, and not very strong. Use that as a shield, you might as well be waving around a shield of paper,” I analyzed at a glance.

“Ho, lass, that’s not a real shield. That’s an original Aegis!" The Mick had been helping move stuff around and shedding light, with a couple of the scouts interested in speeding matters up also shining Lights about. Our trip to the Villa had been without incident, and Kris and I had gone through the floor area with a fine tooth comb.

The area around where the basement dimension’s chest had been had yielded up a handful of salvage, those most associated with various Imbues: high grade steel, iron, and granite shards, mostly, with several handfuls of the fire opal, black opal, sunstone, black garnet, aquamarine, emerald, jet, imperial topaz, and white sapphire associated with Weapon Imbues on top of that.

It all went on the Disk, along with a single surviving Ring of delicately-carved purpled ruby that the Mick had blinked to see, but refrained comment on until later.

He picked up the Shield, the halo of magical particles it emitted instantly expanding to encircle him as he clasped the buckler-sized Shield in his fist.

“Huh. Fremont were an Advocate at one point. Didn’t know that about him,” he murmured, watching the color of the lights going around. “These Shields were more an identifier of the status than useful in a fight in a traditional manner.” He sent me a keen look.

“I can see the abjurative qualities, Lord Mick.” Kris lifted an eyebrow my way at that. “It’s an ablative field, weakening incoming magical damage effects. It’s not very strong, but it is there. Perhaps ten points?”

“Like an omniversal Energy Resist?” Kris was naturally interested.

“Aye, but it stacked with most of the Protection spells about, which were nice if ye were facing Casters.” The Mick took the thing off with care and reverence, the orbiting circle of lights rapidly shrinking back down to just around the Aegis itself. “They’ve made stronger versions o’ Aegis, both in real and magical protection, but this was the first. These were given t’ those tasked with greeting an’ helping newcomers brought in t’ Dereth through the Portals, back in the day, making it easy t’ identify them. In time, they mastered the Portals enough t’ centralize where folks would arrive, an’ set up formal training paths fer new arrivals. But during the wild an’ woolly old days, when people were arriving right an’ left an’ the world were new an’ strange, the Advocates were some o’ the few you could turn to fer help an’ some advice on what t’ do next.” He turned it over in his hands. “The Madman was an Advocate. Well, Fremont, yer secret is out, an’ I’d shake yer hand for it, were ye here.”

He set it atop the Disk quietly, respectfully, and lifted out the Ring, holding it up in the Eternal Lights everyone had up at this point. “Seems dark,” he judged, peering at it closely.

“Internal pathways are scorched. The runeways are intact, but it’s like having nodes with no working lines to connect them,” I informed him. “I see you recognize it.”

“Aye. ‘tis a copy of the Royal Ring o’ the Queens of Aluvia.” He glanced at Kris with a small smile.

“The Rose of Celdon? The Ring of the Orts?” she said immediately, stepping forward and holding out her hand. The Mick handed it over, and Princess Kristie held it up close to her eyes to examine it.

“Hah. The style is almost identical, and the shade of the rubies is only a little off.” She looked inside the band. “They even replicated Urbek’s inscription? Thorough! The real Rose is still in the Aluvian treasury, awaiting a proper Queen in the court there. How did they manage to make such a close replica?”