Hope

Irwyn stared at the box for a few moments before he chuckled. First hour back in the Ebon Respite and he was already getting secret memos from Old Crow again! He opened it, riding the nostalgic high, finding a letter neatly placed on top of a cloth layer. Not impatient, Irwyn read first:

I,

Or Irwyn. Secrecy appears redundant at this stage. Congratulations on your temporary acquittal, not many people get away with crossing House Blackburg or any of its branches. Though between us, I never had any doubt - Avys von Blackburg is a fearsome ally. Ideally, make sure that your interests remain aligned for the next few decades at least.

I too have been busy. The escapade at Abonisle had disrupted the schedule I have expected, not to mention that I have lost many acquaintances in the fall of Steelmire. Even delivering this package I had to delegate. It carries far fewer things than I would have wanted it to. Do not let down your guard, Irwyn. A Lich War is a disaster at all levels. Given you have resolved your dispute with House Blackburg I will redirect my attention to preparing for the calamitous surprises that no doubt await.

Inside this box you will find a few gifts I had gathered in the meantime. The potions are Soul warding, they should offer notable protection even against conception Soul magic. The intricate circles are spirit catchers, they should delay Liches in returning to the phylactery if you bring one close enough, effectiveness varies. The ring enhances mental alacrity, though frankly, House Blackburg will likely provide you with a better one if you ask. Lastly, the pendant… well, I will let you figure it out for yourself, though I believe you will quite like it.

I will not tell you what to do in Ebon Respite - you seem to have handled yourself rather well deciding on your own - but I would suggest that you visit the penal platoon sooner rather than later.

Best regards,

Old Crow

Irwyn smiled at that, thinking it over but also looking at the paper itself. Specifically, at the blank back side. Irwyn summoned a bit of heat, not enough to burn the paper - just to warm. And a few seconds after that more words began to appear, a second letter on the flip side. Not a speck of magic, nothing such on the letter. Old Crow never mentioned it but Irwyn now wondered how many mages would not even consider that a secret message could be purely mundane in nature. The new text was far less formal.

Step lightly about Steelmire. Something is wrong with its fall but I cannot yet determine if Avys was involved. If she was, it is better to remain uncertain.

Do not go to the Duchy of Yellow. I have recently uncovered secrets best not put to the page, however, avoid heading there. Even with the backing of House Blackburg, it is not safe.

Alira has put a bounty on your head. As far as I am aware she has gone behind the backs of House Fathomsight. The price is therefore not enough to attract anyone particularly dangerous, however, do not let your guard down. I have already made sure it will not be taken or spread by the Guild.

One of the spirit catchers has a slight notch. It is more potent than the others, to the point it might cause suspicion. The same applies to one of the soul wards.

Please, keep these secret from the girl. Avys has been attempting to find me and she might incur some hint of my movements. Best of luck to you, Irwyn.

Irwyn read the letter, then read both sides a second time. Afterwards, he burned it to ash, frowning. He would keep it a secret as his mentor requested, though he wasn’t too happy about it. Particularly keeping the fact that there was some kind of bounty for his head close to the chest as there existed actual repercussions this might have for Elizabeth. And also because she could most likely do something about it.

Nothing for it though, Irwyn proceeded to remove the layer of cloth and look into the box. First, he removed the potions, Soul wards of some kind. He felt no magic from them though that was perhaps the point. A close inspection revealed that there was indeed just the slightest notch just below the cap of one, so small he would not have noticed if not looking for it. Noting which one it was, Irwyn put them away into his spacial bag. Then there were the spirit catchers: Complicated art-like mandalas. Not quite runes though - runes were reminiscent of letters. These were just seemingly haphazard pretty shapes. Not a trace of magic either.

He moved on to the ring, inspecting it and quickly finding that the enchantment was still too complex for him to really decode. It definitely felt like concept magic, though obscured. In such a way that Irwyn could not feel what the nature of the concept was, or even the element. He put it on and felt a surge of clairvoyance as his mind’s speed leapt forward… Well, jumped might be more accurate. The increase was significant, just not groundbreaking. Irwyn was always maintaining the magic overlaying his brain that improved his cognitive capability manyfold over to the point it had become subconscious. The ring added just… another chunk. Maybe a tenth, probably less.

It still notably worked together with the mind enhancement though - the technique's main limit was Irwyn’s tolerance of the empowered perception, which the ring somehow bypassed. And maybe he was also getting choosy that a ten percent increase no longer felt like a massive improvement for what was essentially a one hand motion of effort. Curbing those thoughts, Irwyn looked at the last item inside the box.

It was, indeed, a pendant. A beautifully carved little thing from a borderline glowing golden wood. It depicted a figure somewhere in the middle in between a person and a Star - the human silhouette was there, but wavy, as if changing to or fro. And it was all overlaid over the spherical shape of a sun, melding into one another and leaving Irwyn guessing if it depicted a Star taking on human shape or shedding it.

It was a bit too large to reasonably wear as an amulet, so it would be an awkward and very visible fit with a suit. It could easily be hidden on the inner side of a robe though. Irwyn felt around with his magic and quickly found a magical receptacle of sorts. Once within his magic flowed over familiar pathways, tracing out a…

WEEPING STAR

Irwyn did not reel from the strong impression for once. He had half expected it after feeling the beginning of those channels. Yes, it had been a while ago but they had left an impression back then. The finished product looked different stylistically but there was no doubt as the Starfire exited the pendant empowered by a decent chunk: This was exactly the amplifying thing Irwyn had helped test in Abonisle.

He even remembered the crafter’s name! Han Daut, for all it sounded funny - visiting Abonisle with his daughter, Alice. Thinking back, Desir had mentioned that the craftsman from Steelmire had some connection to the Guild. Apparently, he used to also owe Old Crow a favor which had been burned for Irwyn's sake… not that it probably mattered given that Steelmire had apparently been razed to the ground without any survivors.

Irwyn shook his head, intently not thinking about the dead too much. He had certainly coveted this thing back then when he had been just asked to help prove it worked at all, so it would be hypocritical to complain about it ending up in his hands. He would need to figure out exactly how to use it. It empowered his Starfire in a strange way that defied the simple arithmetic of counting intentions. It also could only empower a certain quantity of mana at once which still had to pass through the entire pendant. That took around a second if Irwyn pushed, already a long time in battles he could fight currently and that would no doubt only become more extreme in the future.

That was all fine. He expected that the return to Ebon Respite would be, if not uneventful, at least safe enough. There would be plenty of time to test out and iterate.

That being said, he had to readjust his plans a bit. Instead of just directly leaving the camp he headed upstairs after exiting his room. The office area was basically the inverse of the residential zone beneath. The main corridor went through the middle of the floor leading to several open cubicles that had all the equipment Irwyn would expect from a scholar’s place of work - well, maybe he would expect a proper window rather than the thin grate that barely let in enough sunlight. Elizabeth had claimed one such table right by the stairs and had clearly noticed Irwyn’s approach.

“Do you need anything?” she had begun sorting through documents judging by the few stacks on her table. There were maybe a few dozen, so a lot but not nearly enough to form overwhelming towers.

“I have received a message that changed my plans a bit,” Irwyn admitted. There was no second chair so he made himself one from solid Starfire, sitting opposite to Elizabeth.

“Message?” she frowned. “You were in your room.”

“And that’s where it was planted,” Irwyn nodded. “A package from the Old Crow.”

“Your… mentor,” Elizabeth said hesitantly, though the unhappy grimace did not leave her face.

“Exactly.”

“Which has somehow gotten past all our security and into your room with no one being the wiser,” the frown only deepened.

“It did mention an intermediary doing the delivery itself,” Irwyn shrugged. “Though I would expect nothing less of the old man.”

“Yes, I witnessed firsthand that he can eavesdrop through crows,” Elizabeth sighed.

“He can?” Irwyn paused. He had not known that. “Old Crow isn’t a mage.”

“That was my exact first thought,” she nodded. “He did the pretentious run around that old timers love, saying that magic as we know it isn’t the only path to power without actually explaining anything.”

“Huh,” Irwyn paused. “In hindsight, he obviously couldn’t have been just a wise elder. Controlling crows… it could certainly have a lot of utility for spying. And no one would expect it.”

“I asked Calm but even he doesn’t know exactly,” Elizabeth continued. “Apparently the powers that they use outside the Duchy Federation are much more esoteric. And Calm is from there so he would know."

“I see,” Irwyn nodded. “It was mentioned to me that Old Crow did come to the Duchy of Black from somewhere North of the mountains, thought I don’t know where at all. My only clue is that he likes some special tea from his homeland.”

“Yes, the tea also came up, though it seemed completely normal to me, a bit distinct I suppose. And I know magical tea. That was not one such.”

“I did not try it when he offered - just as I was about to flee Ebon Respite,” Irwyn sighed. “Kind of regret it in hindsight since it was apparently more than just regular tea.”

“You mentioned a message,” Elizabeth re-railed the conversation.

“More of a letter,” Irwyn nodded. “I got some trinkets and some advice which I intend to follow.”

“Anything good?” she asked.

“This ring,” he showcased it. “Makes my mind faster. I am surprised these never came up, since they are apparently possible.”

“You shouldn’t wear it outside of battle or sometimes training,” Elizabeth nodded. “There are many enchantments that empower the body or mind, and they are generally addicting. I, for one, have mine tucked away.”

“I was wondering why I never see you use anything like it,” Irwyn admitted, taking the ring off. The sudden slowing of thoughts was a bit jarring.

“In Abonisle they were locked away in the dress where I couldn’t reach them,” she nodded. “And they are not usually appropriate for sparring and such. I might as well just come at you gowned in defensive talismans you cannot hope to breach at that point. Here I am going to keep them within arm’s reach. How is the effect of yours?”

“About a tenth improvement.”

“I should get you a better one,” she frowned. “There must be hundreds of 30 percent or better in our ancestral vaults somewhere. And a few more things while I am at it.”

“Heh,” Irwyn chuckled.

“What?” she stared slightly.

“ ‘Frankly, House Blackburg will likely provide you with a better one if you ask,’ well, I suppose I didn’t even need to make the request,” Irwyn quoted with bemusement.

“Just a way to deflect a subpar presents,” Elizabeth scoffed.

“I am sure this is quite valuable for people whose family hasn’t owned an entire region for millennia,” Irwyn rolled his eyes. “He might have gotten it months ago before it was apparent I would end in your good graces as well.”

“Fine,” she surrendered. “What else did you get?”

“Some potions,” Irwyn produced one, not with the notch thought. He had been asked to keep a secret and he damn well would. “Soul warding, apparently.”

“I feel no magic,” she frowned. “There should be at least something apparent from a proper potion.”

“Neither do I,” Irwyn shrugged. He hid the potion and produced the other similar article. “But I trust Old Crow enough that these will work. Next, I have these spirit catchers which are much the same.”

“I think we have about a thousand of ‘spirit catchers’ in a storehouse somewhere here in camp,” she raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Those are provably efficient at evicting the undead.”

“These are handmade though,” presumably. “And not meant for just killing regular undead. Apparently, they can help keep Liches from escaping after defeat, at least for a while.”

“And again, without a trace of magic in them,” she glared a bit. Irwyn just shrugged with a smile. He knew Elizabeth didn’t like Old Crow before they started talking so he would take her skepticism with a grain of salt.

“Lastly I have this,” Irwyn revealed the pendant which, to his joy, Elizabeth did not recognize at a glance. He ended up explaining what and how it did, down to the impressions he received from using it and the story of his earlier encounter with it in Abonisle.

“Han Daut was marked as what? Brink of attaining conception?” Elizabeth paused for several long seconds when Irwyn was done talking. Then stared at the pendant with something in between frown and flabbergasted amazement.

“That’s the impression I got from him when we met,” Irwyn nodded, remembering that semi-incomplete feeling.

“That,” Elizabeth pointed at the box, “Is not the work of a conception mage. It’s barely a work of an exceptional domain craftsman. Nothing less should be able to accomplish what you describe.”

“The effect is great,” Irwyn said slowly, skeptically. “But it doesn’t seem that great.”

“Say it again, Irwyn,” she shook her head.

“What?”

“The impression it gave you.”

“WEEPING STAR?” Irwyn had to raise an eyebrow as he repeated himself.

“Yep, that’s exactly it,” Elizabeth nodded. “At least I assume it’s the same thing as last time since I couldn’t hear it.”

“What do you mean ‘couldn’t hear it’?” Irwyn stared.

“Exactly what I said,” she laughed. “My brain short-circuits just trying to understand the words. Just hearing them said out loud is such an unbearable strain my soul replaces the sound with incomprehensible noise, Irwyn. Sure, it’s probably amplified because the Light part of it clashes with my Void, but that isn’t a concept or a domain, Irwyn. That is an Aspects damned Truth. And it’s insane you somehow remember it.”

“But that is ridiculous,” Irwyn almost instinctively replied.

“Oh, it absolutely is,” Elizabeth nodded. “Retaining even the smallest fragment of a Truth of any sort at our level is supposed to just disperse your soul. More precisely, it just shouldn’t be possible at all.”

“Are Truths not even above domains in terms of magical attainment?” Irwyn stared. “How could I possibly have that.”

“I mean, you obviously cannot tap into even a fraction of what a Truth has to offer,” she smiled. “I am still processing this cataclysmic implosion of a news you just dropped on me, Irwyn, so I don’t exactly have any answers. Presumably, it has something to do with your visions?”

“This… seems like a lot,” Irwyn said carefully.

“You are telling me that,” she scoffed, paused, then sighed. “Damn it, I am not getting any of the paperwork done with this coursing through my head. Anyway, there will definitely be more to that pendant than just ‘amplification’.”

“I may have a distraction for you then,” Irwyn smiled. “In big part, I came up here because I was advised in the letter to go and see our penal platoon.”

“The penal platoon,” she repeated, a bit skeptically.

“I was a criminal, you know,” Irwyn inclined his head. “That’s where I am statistically the most likely to recognize someone. And I assume there will be someone specific.”

“Yes, you are right, sorry,” Elizabeth said. “The penal platoons just… don’t have the best reputation.”

“Yes, people have a dislike for crime,” Irwyn nodded.

“The penal platoon is not for petty theft, Irwyn,” she shook her head. “They are dedicated meat shields and human bait that got a choice between probably dying at the hands of an undead abomination and the literal noose.”

“Oh,” Irwyn paused. “I had no idea there was such a practice.”

“Sometimes the undead bite only into living flesh,” she shrugged. “Better that flesh be a death row convict than a soldier. Or a mage.”

“Calloused,” Irwyn commented.

“Better than most Duchies, honestly,” Elizabeth inclined her head, deep down clearly uncaring. “The Duchy of Purple for one has innocent conscripts dying in numbers on a daily basis outside a Lich War.”

“I am not so soft that it would bother me,” Irwyn explained himself. “Though I would prefer we do not overuse that resource.”

“We probably won’t see any undead at all,” she shrugged.

“Should we get going?” he offered.

“Yes, let’s,” she nodded at that.