Hope

Everyone seemed to be giving Elizabeth’s building a wide berth. It was apparent in the wary stares of the soldiers who were attempting to stay as far away as they could while keeping the structure in line of sight. That being said, Irwyn had been assured that Elizabeth was inside and waiting with whoever these ‘guests’ were, therefore he stepped in after slowing from his jog.

All three figures sat around the ground floor’s large table. The heiress was facing him, and gave Irwyn a nod as he entered. The outsiders had their backs turned towards him, revealing little - not even a trace of magic. One even wore a loose cloak while the other was… Irwyn paused. Was their hair turning darker with every step Irwyn took? By the time he arrived at the table he was almost sure that had been the case.

“Please, take a seat, Irwyn,” Elizabeth inclined her head, her tone implying that whatever was happening it was quite serious.

“Thank you, your Ladyship” he nodded as he sat down with all the etiquette he could muster, turning towards the newcomers. The cloaked figure revealed nothing new even from the front - their visage was obscured by impenetrable darkness. The other was far more curious, forcing Irwyn to suppress a frown. They seemed half-familiar, yet also uncanny at the same time. Like their features did not quite mesh together perfectly. Irwyn could not even guess what their gender may be: Some clues screamed male while others the opposite - yet not really in a way he would call androgynous.

“Good day to you, Irwyn,” the uncloaked one spoke, scrutinizing the young mage. Their companion merely dipped their head and remained silent.

“To you as well,” he nodded. Irwyn kept scrutinizing the face and realized it was slightly shifting. Slowly enough it was difficult to perceive but there were still some hints. He also realized why they seemed rather familiar - he was pretty sure some of those mismatched facial features belonged to Elizabeth, though the smile was certainly someone else’s.

“They have come to ask you questions,” Elizabeth said with a slight frown.

“Questions?” Irwyn repeated, glancing at them. He was unsure who the presumed shapeshifter was but Elizabeth was not questioning their appearance so it could clearly wait.

“Yes, our apologies for taking your time,” the clearly more sociable of the two guests spoke again. “We have, however, obtained the Duke’s permission.”

“I have been advised by my mother that it would be unwise to lie,” Elizabeth glanced at Irwyn. “But also that ask is all they will do.”

“I would not dare bypass the Duke’s will,” Irwyn nodded his agreement. No lying… but perhaps refusing to answer was on the table. It really depended on the topic. And Elizabeth bringing up Avys implied that the situation would be within a schemer’s palm. “Please, ask away.”

“Yes, I will show a series of pictures,” their spokesperson nodded. “Tell me if you recognize the person within them. The first one…”

Irwyn shook his head as the first portrait was presented. It was not a photograph but rather a hand-drawn portrait with exceptional attention to detail and realism. The only reason he could even realize that was because there was no background. “No,” The first person was a bearded man. The second was androgynous - leaning woman - also completely unfamiliar. As were the next three - people of various visages. Though Irwyn had noticed they seemed to be of similar build and height, the detail was only apparent because the portraits were drawn with the exact same style and structure.

“And the last one,” the man opposite to Irwyn showed the final picture. That one did give Irwyn pause.

Irwyn slowly nodded. “Yes, I know him,” because it was, beyond the shadow of a doubt, Desir. And that brought up a lot of questions, but it did seemingly answer what this was about. Desir had once upon a time implied he had pursuers… On the other hand, were the previous pictures unrelated or just personas? Looking back at them, it would have been a very impressive disguise but Desir could have fit the general build. Not that it mattered in the great scheme of things - Irwyn’s friend from Abonisle was quite dead.

“Under what name have you known them?”

“Only as Desir,” Irwyn said. “No last name.”

“Where have you met them,” they asked.

“In a small-town North of Drathsol, I don’t recall its name,” Irwyn thought back. “We have bumped into each other by accident as I was heading towards Abonisle by cart and foot. We met a few times more along the way and eventually made the final track for the city together.”

“What did you note about him at the time?”

“That he seemed quite paranoid, as if being hunted,” Irwyn paused. “Well, I can see now he clearly had a reason to be.”

“Hmm, yes, this conforms with what we know,” the apparent interviewer nodded. “Has ‘Desir’ ever spoken about his origins?”

“No, I do not believe so.”

“How would you describe his social skills?”

“Quite high,” Irwyn recalled. “Both men and women seemed to swoon around him.”

“Has he made advances towards you?” they immediately followed. Irwyn thought he noticed Elizabeth shift slightly.

“No,” Irwyn paused. “I was called a 'pointless battle' or something of the sort.”

“I see, thank you,” the guest seemed to sort through their thoughts for a moment. “Has Desir ever consulted you with preparations to leave Abonisle? Or has he done anything that implied he was looking to flee, such as a high-risk burglary, antagonizing powerful people for short term gain, or taking desperate gambles?”

“No,” Irwyn shook his head after thinking for a long while. But he could not recall anything like that. In fact, Desir had seemed rather worried about his reputation just on the eve of the undead incursion, even arranging leisure time before the Undead began to swarm. “Not as far as I know.”

“I see, then lastly I would like you to reiterate the events that have led to his presumed death,” the conversation jumped forward. “What do you recall of it?”

“The ceiling was collapsed by the undead while I was talking with him,” Irwyn explained. “I barely managed to run out, not really keeping track of my surroundings. Desir was further in and no one had seen him thereafter.”

“Did you ever see the body or moment of death?”

“No, but we brought a Life mage to check for any survivors,” Irwyn shook his head. “None in that section of the rubble. I don’t know if a corpse was ever recovered – though it sounded unlikely in the wake of an undead incursion. I left Abonisle soon afterwards.”

“Do you believe Desir is truly dead?”

“Yes,” Irwyn nodded truthfully.

“Thank you. That is all we have to ask,” said their guest despite being the only one from the duo to ever speak.

“May I ask why you are so… interested?”

“You may ask, I will not answer,” they nodded, then stood up and vanished.

Irwyn blinked. He had perceived nothing, not even a trace of mana or motion. His mind, for all it had been accelerated, had not registered any transition between the two figures being present and then gone.

“What… was that about?” Irwyn asked as Elizabeth sighed a deep relieved breath.

“I have next to no idea, and now my mother is interested,” she grimaced. “She has been listening in until a moment ago.”

“Who were they?”

“Demons,” Elizabeth said, much to Irwyn’s surprise. They seemed human, even up close… Maybe that is why one was cloaked and the other most likely a shapeshifter. Succubi did have some kind of shapeshifting based on the mortals around them, Irwyn recalled. That would explain their possession of Elizabeth’s facial features, and presumably his. Irwyn had not spent enough time in front of a mirror throughout his life - and especially lately - to be sure about individual half features of his face. “Particularly powerful Demons, both with domains.”

“And they are looking for seemingly a nobody imbuement mage?” Irwyn paused. Desir was by most metrics quite talented… but not nearly at Elizabeth’s or Irwyn’s level. “That does not add up.”

“You can probably see why my mother is suddenly so interested,” Elizabeth sighed, blatantly unhappy about it. “They called him a fugitive from the Void, mentioning some kind of powerful patron he had offended. I can keep you updated if I am told more.”

“Please,” Irwyn nodded. It would be a lie to say his curiosity was not stirred.

“At least it did not take long,” Elizabeth said. “I was afraid this might turn into a labor of hours where they meticulously ironed out the tiniest detail. I suppose I need to let Alice know that right after lunch still applies.”

“I actually ran into her earlier,” Irwyn said.

“Really?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

“At the target range,” Irwyn nodded. “She is quite good with firearms.”

“A rare skill,” Elizabeth inclined her head. “Mostly because no one bothers.”

“I had the same assumption,” Irwyn agreed. “Maybe it was more common in Steelmire?”

“You can ask her yourself,” Elizabeth shrugged. “There is a reason they are not favored by House Blackburg and by extension not particularly cared about.”

“That seems insensitive at best,” Irwyn shook his head. Asking about a destroyed home was hardly a light topic.

“She has her ring.”

“It’s not completely flawless,” Irwyn reiterated. “I have seen her still suffer a short outburst of grief, if only for a moment.”

“Is that so?” Elizabeth paused, eyebrow rising. “I suppose it might not be wholly without issues.”

“Hopefully it will get better with time.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth nodded.

“I have to admit though that you were right that Time mages seem convenient to have around,” Irwyn kept to the topic. “I had not realized they could just teleport random items around at a whim. It seemed almost too easy. Just anything nearby placed anywhere she wants it with a thought.”

“Well, she is rather talented. It is also more difficult with magical items and people,” Elizabeth inclined her head. “Not to mention distance. Finity still applies which makes travelling across long ranges prohibitively expensive, as well as other laws making it difficult. Continental teleportation requires rule-bending.”

“Like the Beacons,” Irwyn nodded.

“An extreme example,” Elizabeth nodded. “Those are edict adjacent with a Named sacrificed for their creation and thus beyond mortal comprehension. Usually, Time mages will just learn to fold space, thus reducing the actual distance their teleportation needs to cross despite Finity.”

“Wouldn’t this ‘folding’ also be affected by Finity?” Irwyn raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, but the initial cost is a fraction of the actual teleportation and can be much better optimized,” Elizabeth nodded. “Teleportation is all about optimizing and reducing the cost on mana and mind. Especially when the targets become magical.”

Irwyn paused. “How does being magical affect it?”

“Teleportation is, in principle, changing the location of something in an instant,” Elizabeth began to explain. “It needs to account for variables - the displacement of air is a physical example that applies to everything. The issue with highly magical items in particular - and I mean containing concepts at the very least - is that their magic has a certain presence. It interacts with the ambient mana and even nearby magics in small ways I will not go into. But simplistically these tethers are gradually established through spacial proximity and changing them too quickly results in what is called dissonant resistance. A term used basically only in teleportation and for specialists moving at incomprehensibly extreme speeds.”

“How does that work with travelling through the Void or alternative methods?” Irwyn immediately remembered the alternative he had semi-witnessed in Abonisle and asked.

“That is different,” she shook her head. “There are principles you are missing, but the dissonant resistance is caused by things essentially leaving such a footprint in the fabric of Time and Space that being resynced requires either a Time mage to manually mend the dissonance or risks damaging the transported object. When going through the Void the object is severed from the local fabric of Time and Space completely and then re-enters, reforming that bond anew, thereby causing no dissonance. Same as with most exotic methods of teleportation.”

“What do you mean ‘severed from Time and Space’?” Irwyn paused.

“Time slips in the Void, you know that,” Elizabeth said. “To a lesser degree that also applies to other, albeit smaller, regions of absolute elemental purity. The exact mechanics of it are the subject of entire academic courses and, frankly, beyond my ken.”

“Fine, I suppose the basics are enough,” Irwyn sighed. “Does it work the same with people?”

“The dissonance still applies - and the result of not eliminating it can be quite gruesome - but people are hindered by more,” she elaborated. “For one, Fate disagrees with displacing people from where it knows them. Just like good incantations will make it assist in spellcraft, teleporting a person over long distances will cause a progressively stronger negative causal nudge. Secondly, with mages who had claimed a domain their imprint goes from just the fabric of Time and Space to downright influencing any magic in their vicinity. The mage teleporting a domain holder thus must overcome that resistance. That is not easily done even when their target assists them in the endeavor and this becomes only worse with even more powerful mages. Teleportation of strategic assets is a major hindrance in every Lich War as there are simply not enough Time mages with peerage in magecraft to the Federation's best war mages."

“And the beacon ignores that because?” Irwyn asked for elaboration with interest.

“Edict nonsense,” Elizabeth shrugged. “Truths can bend laws and Edicts can outright rewrite them. I am sure there is someone out there who knows exactly how the Beacons work but it’s not me. Alice might understand more but even if she does there is a high chance you will learn nothing from an explanation given by a Time mage. Imagine you explaining to someone how exactly Starfire burns.”

“I suppose it would be difficult to go into detail beyond what it feels like to me in some places,” Irwyn admitted after a moment of thought.

“It is outright recommended to learn magical concepts of affinities you will not wield from a generalized book or an instructor who is like you,” Elizabeth nodded. “Academics who can describe higher concepts in ways that those without their affinity can easily grasp are relatively rare, better not to roll the dice the person in front of you is one of them and just use a tome which has stood the test of time.”

“You know, somehow you seem to always know the answer to almost anything I ask about magic,” Irwyn smiled in mild disbelief.

“I know everything about magic on a very surface level,” she shrugged. “As should most heirs to nobility, if they didn’t slack in their studies. There are likely a few secrets in my mind that some others might not possess but omnidirectional basic knowledge is the standard, not an exception. The exact methods, chants, and pitfalls might be jealously kept but the Federation has long been in accord that it is best their future leaders and elites be taught enough to understand at least somewhat the magic of those they will one day command… and to not be caught unaware by the undead. Some nasty tricks can be avoided with ease if you know how to identify and counteract them.”

“Like?” Irwyn smiled, curious. “Give me a particularly bad one.”

“Hmm,” she thought for a moment. “Reducing the air pressure low enough will make the spit in your mouth both freeze and boil at the same time, simultaneously making breathing quite difficult as oxygen thins to almost nothing - unpleasant, but not lethal by itself. The issue is when this begins to also affect the blood inside the veins. This is particularly dangerous because it can happen even if the mage reinforces their flesh enough that the pressure itself does not harm them and the effect is seemingly entirely non-magical.”

“Gaseous blood does sound lethal,” Irwyn paused, imagining it. Would it be painful or numb? Presumably the former.

“It’s not a common angle of attack, mostly only used deep in confined underground spaces,” Elizabeth continued. “But the rarer something is the more dangerous it can be. Of course, anyone who knows the signs can either immediately dig up to open air, rapidly retreat, or employ a more personalized countermeasure.”

“Knowing what to do seems useful, yes,” Irwyn nodded. If he was caught unaware but a strange phenomenon like that would he run? Or perhaps hunker down with several barriers, looking for whatever was causing it? He was not sure whether the barrier he used would protect him from low or high air pressure - Irwyn scarcely understood it as a concept. But since air did pass through it, he assumed not.”

“Natural phenomena are still very much capable of killing even powerful mages if they have the wrong countermeasures - for all it is an uncomfortable thought,” Elizabeth nodded. “Which is why the Federation makes sure its mages are not easily caught unaware. For example, I have enough specialized enchantments on hand to let me comfortably survive without breathable air for a week, and a day more very uncomfortably if I subvert different ones. Starving powerful mages out of oxygen rather than fighting them used to be a particularly popular method among the undead in the past. Nowadays they rarely ever try it anymore within the Federation.”

“They just stopped because it did not work anymore?” the implication gave Irwyn a pause.

“The undead can be intelligent and they pass on knowledge and schemes seamlessly between ‘generations’,” Elizabeth nodded. “None are opposed to holding back an ace for several centuries if it means using it to achieve a critical strategic objective, neither do they fear death nor sacrifice. It’s in part what makes fighting them so dangerous despite the millennia of experience the Federation has. As we learn, so does the enemy. And the Betrayer's rot is unsurprisingly competent at misleading us. Every new discovery or weakness could very well be just a trap prepared for your great-grandchildren.”

“Surely there are methods that work though,” Irwyn frowned. “Methodologies and such that apply at least most of the time.”

“The Inquisition’s official stance is to never assume you know the rot’s schemes,” Elizabeth shook her head. “And they have two dozen often-contradictory doctrines distributed among their junior members so that there is no blind spot that covers all of them. Their senior inquisitors are highly encouraged to develop their own sets of methods, ideally several each and to still make sure to either toss a coin or roll a die when deciding between even options lest their personal bias makes them predictable over years and decades. And the Inquisition is dedicated entirely to hunting undead and necromancers. The Duchies take their word for it on such matters.”

“Certainly encouraging word in the middle of a Lich War,” Irwyn smiled ruefully.

“Well, we are sitting this one out so far,” Elizabeth smiled. “And if it’s any consolation, I told you previously we are far lower on their assassination priority list than we would be if the extent of our talents was fully known.”

“Well… early lunch?” Irwyn asked after an awkward moment.

“I don’t think the kitchen will be ready for at least an hour yet,” Elizabeth shook her head. “Even my word is unlikely to manifest a meal from thin air.”

“We could eat out,” Irwyn suggested. “Or something could be brought if you think leaving the camp’s safety is too risky for you. Plenty of good food to be found around the city.”

“Hmm, it does sound enticing,” Elizabeth said, then sighed. “Alas, the visiting demons have added yet more workload to my plate - right before I thought I would be done with paperwork too. My report must be written out before I meet with Alice or my mother might begin to grumble - it would be helpful if you could inform our Time mage that I will still expect her after lunch though.”

“The Duchess had literally listened in,” Irwyn pointed out.

“Yes, and she still wants me to write down every little observation and detail that she might have somehow missed,” Elizabeth nodded. “Unlike our recent guests, my mother does, unfortunately, insist on excruciating detail once she takes interest.”

Irgaleth suppressed a shudder as he and his companion vanished, passing a hop and a skip away through the shallows of the Void. The two demons did not dare linger in the home of nothingness, feeling the Duke’s omnipresent gaze following each of their movements. They soon re-entered the Realm in a secluded location where they had, ironically, far more privacy.

“Those children were strange,” his cloaked companion spoke in their raspy and broken voice. The metamorphosis that Envy had offered him was wonderous… but not flawless nor painless.

“No shit,” Irgaleth allowed himself the slightest shake of fear. His physical features were already vanishing as he quickly purged the lingering shapeshifting. He rarely did so but his oath to the Duke compelled him to do everything he could to not learn more. “I can see now that the Duke’s insistence we do not snoop was more than pointless flair.”

“The girl is like a Temzda,” his companion nodded. “Mortal children cannot be that way.”

And she did feel like one. It was not magic or any technique that had allowed them to perceive that. It was something far more innate and instinctual. After all, albeit the Demons were Umbra’s creations she had sparred them little love. Elves, on the other hand, elves were her darling children. So much so that to this day Demons experienced something akin to existential dread when in their presence. Even after eons it was recognisable.

“Too potent to be just half-blood,” the succubus analyzed. “Yet not enough for pure. And the Duke likely did not lie when he called her his daughter in the oath’s wording.”

“Someone has caused this,” the demon of Envy nodded his agreement. “This must be investigated closely.”

“I agree, albeit it cannot be us,” they were still oathbound not to do so. “But the Duke only forbade us from spreading anything we learn across this Realm,” not that he would not have a way to escape the bindings in time – it was all a matter of price. Likely his death, in this case. Thankfully, he would not have to resort to that. “Our liege will certainly be interested. Perhaps these mortals have uncovered something that could be subsumed for his project. Better yet, someone to replace his dead pet.”

“I will learn what I can without breaking the oath during the war,” his companion affirmed. “Perhaps the Lord will forgive the death of the stable sample because of this.”

“Keep an eye out for them, even after what we know,” Irgaleth warned. “There is a slim but distinct possibility they have enlisted the help of someone powerful enough to feign even the demise of their Fate.”

“I know, I will be careful,” the Demon of Envy slightly nodded. “Fighting the rot is still the safer of our two tasks.”

“So it is,” Irgaleth slowly nodded. He grasped the thread of reality, ready to open a way into the Void. He would need to be careful as to not allow the Duke’s gaze to trace him all the way home – there would be no surviving that failure. “Hopefully his peerlessness will be in a good mood upon my return.”