Hope

“I cannot believe you would suggest this, Irwyn!” Alice shook her head exaggeratedly.

“You mean… walking?”

“What an awfully peasant action to take!” she nodded.

“The Duchy of Black doesn’t really have ‘peasants’,” Irwyn pointed out. At least not by that name.

“Semantics, semantics,” Alice tutted. “How could you possibly expect me to just walk out of the camp? What if I am seen?”

“It has literally been noted down you would be leaving,” Irwyn said with a raised eyebrow.

“Honestly, you are no fun,” she scoffed.

“I apologies for my lacking delusions of grandeur,” Irwyn replied, deadpan.

“Fine, be like that,” Alice rolled her eyes. “But I was being serious when I said we should not walk through the front. We are going incognito after all. Someone might be watching the gates.”

“Well yes,” Irwyn nodded. Neither of them wore their uniforms. “But flying over the walls is much more eye-catching.”

“Who do you think I am, Irwyn?” she shot him a grin.

“I was under the impression that teleporting people was difficult,” Irwyn shrugged. The implication was clear coming from a Time mage and he had obviously thought of it. “Especially from within a camp defended against such attempts.”

“It’s not easy, but distance matters,” she shook her head. “Two people just a few streets over? And I have been taught the camp’s bypass, meaning I can teleport from the open ground and back in.”

“Not the buildings,” Irwyn noted.

“Most of those don’t have any bypass for obvious reasons,” Alice nodded. Undead were notorious for their conversion rate after all. “Otherwise it’s easy enough if you just don’t resist my spell.”

“And what does not resisting entail?” Irwyn nodded his agreement.

“For direct displacement, I would need you to let my mana seep into your entire body… Which is why we will be using a portal that is much less intrusive,” she explained. “Just keep any magic in your Vessel - to not disrupt my spell - and don’t stop moving until you are on the other side. I am paying extra for every moment something is in-between. Ready?”

Irwyn nodded. Alice waved her hand and reality opened. It was distinctly not tearing. Rather it was practiced and precise twisting. A surgeon’s incision followed by re-stitching. To the naked eye, the spell caused a disk to emerge. The very edges were teal blue - there was a reason the color was associated with Time magic - while the rest was much like a mirror, showing a street Irwyn guessed was just at the edge of their line of sight through one of the gates. There were seemingly no people around. Everyone was giving the camp a massive birth with maybe the exception of a few curious snoopers – hence the worry of someone watching the gates.

“Can I look it over?” Irwyn asked. “I am not sure how much mana it costs you.”

“Only the price of natural light and air passing through,” Alice shrugged. “Those are almost weightless so the cost is negligible. The portal is already made, keeping it open does not cost anything beyond paying for things to traverse... at least while I am this close. Go ahead.”

So Irwyn did. He walked around making a few observations: For one, the portal was impossibly thin - to the point it was invisible from the side - and was one-sided. The back was dimmer Teal though it seemed nothing would be able to pass through. His second observation was that it was incredibly subtle magically… At least while dormant. Being cast, and presumably used, was exponentially more noticeable.

“Is it possible to cast without intentions?” Irwyn asked curiously. He was counting four, though Alice was doing a good enough job of controlling the spell he could only guess which.

“Continuity or something of the sort is required for actual portals,” she shook her head. “Regular displacement technically speaking does not, though I would not try that on anything non-mundane or living. My teachers let the children try it on a rat or a rabbit when we are just learning so that we never do it again. I certainly won’t.”

“Fascinating,” Irwyn nodded. Then he stepped to the other side. It was… much like walking through a door. He thought he might have felt some kind of pressure shift, but that could have been him imagining things. It was, frankly, incredibly smooth.

“I do wonder how that works,” Irwyn looked back as the portal closed behind Alice. A moment later there was no trace of it as they began to walk, Irwyn leading the way. “Is it some kind of space folding? Reducing the distance to zero?”

“No, not whatsoever!” Alice shook her head rolling her eyes with sudden but clear annoyance. “It is a fundamental principle of Time that you can use mana to instantaneously change something’s location. That mana cost is proportional to distance, weight, Finity, and other details that you don’t really need to understand. The portal does not remove the distance between the two ends or any such nonsense that people assume for some reason – removing distance is more of an extra thing I can do for longer-range spells. Portals work on the same principles as displacing things directly; you just move them one layer at a time.”

“Well, it does look like the other side is moved closer,” Irwyn pointed out. When the portal stood the other side had literally looked a step away.

“Because natural light travels through from the other end…” she began.

“And natural light reflecting off of surfaces is how the mortal eye sees,” Irwyn finished for her, grasping the explanation. “That does make perfect sense.”

“If were to I isolate the light the portal’s face would be entirely teal. Though it’s rarely worth the effort. Filtering out specific things from passing through is orders of magnitude more difficult than the portal itself.”

“Actually, what did you mean ‘one layer at a time’?” Irwyn frowned, thinking a few sentences back. “I hope that only sounds dangerous.”

“It means exactly what I say,” Alice shrugged. “And portals are incredibly dangerous if something disrupts them. Never use one made by an incompetent mage, getting split in half is a very real possibility. Honestly, I thought you might refuse to use one on principle, even if you trusted me.”

“That is usually the kind of stuff you tell people before asking them to step through,” Irwyn stopped walking and glared.

“Consider it me testing you,” she just innocently smiled. “It’s hard to take your ignorance at face value with how powerful you are.”

“What if I was too hard to transfer?!” Irwyn did not relent his stare.

“Oh yes, you are definitely absurdly heavy,” she nodded. “Like, about thirty times more expensive to move than I would expect you to be. But I am not some lass fumbling my way through this. I have practiced portals thousands upon thousands of times. If you were too heavy for me to bear - if there was any risk whatsoever - I would have realized it before your fingertips were halfway through and shut it down.”

“With my fingertips already on the other side,” Irwyn had to point out.

“This happening is not a ‘maybe’ hypothetical,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s a ‘what if an insane one in a million happens because you are somehow carrying something crazy that messes with my magic in obscene ways despite being impossible to sense’ scenario. In which case learning would be presumably worth your fingertips. With Elizabeth here she would probably just get you a proper graft within ten minutes.”

“I am carrying a spacial pouch,” Irwyn said.

“Made by my father to not impact teleportation,” she nodded. “If it was a fourth-rate temporary trash bag I would need to account for it. A well-made bag does not interfere with most common transportation techniques. AND has fail saves if something like that were to happen.”

“Fine,” Irwyn sighed. “I will expect you to warn me before using something potentially lethal on me next time.”

“I will be sure to shout my every attack if we ever spar,” she snickered.

“Very presumptuous you would have the breath to spare,” he smiled. “Or chance of landing one.”

“I hoped your friend is as good of a cook as you claimed yesterday,” Alice changed gears, deciding that maybe challenging Irwyn’s magical might may not be a conversation she would win.

“You just ate lunch.”

“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want something more to snack on.”

“Narcinia doesn’t really do desert as far as I am aware,” Irwyn shrugged. “She already has enough work cooking regular meals for all the kids.”

“Truly unholy,” Alice raises her fist in an exaggerated gesture. “We should create a god of sugar and sweets for her to worship.”

“I am not sure that’s how it works,” Irwyn paused. He had mentioned Narcinia’s direction of worship when talking to Alice of the Tears so it was not that surprising it came up.

“Of course it does work like that… well outside the Duchy of Black,” Alice shrugged as if it was self-apparent. “But we could go a bit South then come back. A quick beacon trip.”

“Take a step back,” Irwyn urged. “What do you mean create a god.”

“Do you…?” she raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you don’t. Since you brought up gods yesterday I thought you knew how they worked.”

“Is that something widely known?” Irwyn question

“Well, mostly,” she nodded. “I think. Maybe not. Want a rundown?”

“Obviously,” Irwyn urged.

“Gods are a lot like artifacts when we get down to it,” she said. “Belief and legends have inherent power. When enough faith is gathered around something else than a specific item, it forms a godhead. Then someone either takes it on and becomes a fulcrum of that worship or it can eventually be granted a soul of its own and start a life as a pure god.”

“How have I never heard about this?!” Irwyn stared, startled by his own ignorance in the topic.

“Well, we use the word ‘gods’ but they are really not that impressive,” Alice shrugged. “Their power is weird and not compatible with magecraft. They also need ridiculously large followings to become actually mighty. Not worth the effort.”

“Do the Duchies not harness this then?” Irwyn was baffled.

“The inquisition keeps if a few as far as I know. Gods dedicated to hunting the Undead,” Alice said, thoughtful. “Their kind of magic works completely differently from what mages do so they can be useful for countering strange tricks. As for why they are not used often… Well, if someone important goes through the effort of spreading stories and legends they might as well just make an artifact, you know. The results of that are much more reliable and don’t need maintenance. Gods are way more common in the North as far as I know, though. Past our borders.”

“You mentioned the Duchy of Black is different,” Irwyn remembered while digesting that.

“Yes, quite notoriously there are no gods in the Duchy of Black,” Alice nodded.

“You made it sound like that was the case almost everywhere.”

“No, no, I said no one usually bothers raising one into something useful. There are many unimpressive lesser deities splashed around the Federation. Some are practically just monsters, usually born from widespread legends about local monsters. A few embodiments of weather or landmarks. Then a few mortal cult leaders and such. In the Duchy of Black there are none.”

“Why?”

“Not the slightest idea,” Alice shrugged. “My grandpa tried to figure it out on a whim a few times but never could. All he found out was that they started rapidly vanishing around 120 years ago. Maybe Elizabeth knows or can ask someone who does.”

“And the ‘New gods’?” Irwyn asked after a moment. “I am pretty sure they have a larger following from what I have heard.”

“Yeah, but they reside North, way past the Federation,” Alice nodded. “Whole religions. Some tried to spread southward to us with no real success. Go halfway through the Duchy of White and most people would not have even heard of them.”

And why would they? The mages had nothing to gain by worship - they were each deities unto themselves. Without official endorsement or support, which Irwyn had never even heard of being granted, the only way to propagate was by mortal mouth. That word rarely ever travelled far, Irwyn would wager. Even if these gods did grant their ‘blessings’ within the Federation’s borders it would be more of a rumor than a known thing. Those who believed and even chose prayer would thus remain an ever-obscure minority. He had once wondered why they were not banned despite the Duke Households practically worshipping the Aspects at least outwardly… but perhaps an outright ban would grant the religions more legitimacy than they otherwise ever had.

“Probably don’t mention any of that in front of Narcinia,” Irwyn sighed.

“Noted, unpromised,” Alice grinned.

“I think you will get along with Kalista.”

And Irwyn had been right. For all the initial introductions were a bit awkward the icebreaking did indeed happen through Kalista. Not just because of their mutual propensity for teasing, though that certainly played a role, but because the two got caught up in a spotting competition of all things.

“262,” Alice announced with a grin.

“Correct,” Aaron admited. Only he had known how many balls of string had actually been put in the other room – someone must have stolen a whole shipment for so many to be lying around. Irwyn in the meantime had made sure Alice would not cheat by using her magic preemptively while his friend had been hiding them there.

“How can you count them so quickly?” Kalista complained as she put her glasses back on. She had been staring into the wall… or rather through it. She had not lost every time, but was definitely more likely to than not.

“Magic,” Alice smiled.

“Magic,” Irwyn nodded sagely in support.

“Magic,” Waylan joined in.

“You cannot even use magic,” Kalista pointed out, eyes narrowing at their tattooed companion.

“Never claimed otherwise,” Waylan shrugged with an innocent grin.

“It is not reasonable to just say ‘magic’ whenever we ask how something is possible,” Rainer spoke in Kalista’s support.

“True,” Alice nodded in full agreement… Then proceeded to silently sit with a serious expression.

“Please explain?” Kalista tried.

“Fine, fine,” Alice chuckled. “I do have two big advantages. Firstly, my mind is accelerated to a significant degree, that makes an obvious difference. Second, the way I spot with my spell means I don’t actually have to count. I understand the quantity in a different way than individually adding them up, then I just need to transfer that into thought and words.”

“Welp, she has you beat,” Rainer patted Kalista on the shoulder, earning a glare.

“Unfair!” she sighed.

“Magic is an unfair advantage, yes,” Alice nodded. “Honestly, I don’t want to sound rude, but your eyesight is impressive. And pretty but that is beside the point.”

“Definitely pretty,” Rainer nods, giving Kalista another pat.

“I had no idea honing left such visible effects,” Alice nodded. Everyone paused.

“You know much about it?” Maxim was too good to let his eye narrow or to flinch. The mood though certainly became sharper. It was obvious their abilities were not mundane… but their exact origin was still a secret Irwyn had vehemently refused to expose.

“Hmm, it came up,” Alice nodded. “Back… home there were a few people who practiced it, so Grandpa told me that it exists.”

“It seems to be very rare around here,” Irwyn noted. So much so that even Elizabeth seemed to have very little knowledge on the topic. And yet the heiress of Steelmire for some reason did. Well… Steelmire had been a mercenary settlement as far as he recalled. They did not employ only mages so it would be a natural place of gathering for many manaless yet still relatively capable people.

“They were foreigners from up North,” Alice elaborated. “Those sometimes go to the Duchy Federation, seeking fortune without knowing they are far too weak to grasp much of it even if they find it. In the end there is a small but distinct niche in the market for people who have superhuman abilities but are not mages. Spies, mostly – a lot of people dismiss anyone without mana as completely mortal. But none I had seen had such distinct changes… or were as good as any of you.”

“Still not much next to a mage, clearly,” Kalista sighed.

“Mages rule the Federation for a reason,” Alice shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing. Irwyn could not deny that perhaps it was. “The environment here is so good for us, we have outcompeted and smothered out everything but the undead.”

“I would still think the Federation might utilize any kind of power or advantage,” Aaron frowned.

“I had the same thought years ago,” Alice nodded. “But just honing is not enough power on its own to be used at scale - easier to just devote those resources to more mages. And apparently honing is completely unsuitable for said mages. For my curiosity, my grandpa found out that some centuries ago the brother of that time’s Duke of Green was rumored to have been killed for taking such experiments too far – and he still achieved no results. And the man was definitely neither the first nor last to try. Since no one ever figured it out in all this time it’s probably impossible.”

“Hmm, Old Crow did sometimes mention he was born North,” Rainer hummed in agreement. “It makes sense.”

“Old Crow?” Alice turned to him with sudden alertness and no small amount of alarm.

“You recognize the title,” Aaron was the first to give voice to the obvious conclusion.

“Old man, kind of decrepit, knows many things non-mages absolutely shouldn’t?” Alice described, then paused. “No offence.”

“Don’t forget mysterious - yet harsh but flare,” Waylan nodded.

“You have met him?” Aaron asked directly while Irwyn mind worked to connect the dots.

“My father had hosted someone like that for weeks, much to my mother’s disapproval,” Alice nodded, frowning. Irwyn kept his expression neutral. He had been almost certain that the little amulet Old Crow had sent him was the very same item made by Hen Daut… who was Alice’s father. Of course, it made perfect sense they had met. He had just not thought enough about it to reach the conclusion sooner. “You said title. I had been wondering whether it was a nickname or something back then, since he never told us his actual name.”

“To us neither and he had basically built up the foundation of this place,” Aaron sighed.

“Now that I am thinking back to some things I have overhead…” she looked up at Irwyn, frowning even deeper. “They did talk about some prodigy in trouble and their similarity to my father. Hearing about this connection… was that perhaps you?”

“Most likely,” Irwyn nodded slowly.

“Wait, did my dad hire you to test and item he was making for you,”

“Quite probably,” Irwyn smiled. “Very gainful employment. Though in my defense, I had not known at the time.”

“What trouble could you even have been in?” Alice squinted. “You are literally following around a Blackburg heiress.”

“At the time I had last spoken with Old Crow he would have thought I might end up outright hunted by a branch of our Duke’s House.”

“Oh,” she blinked.

“Oh, indeed,” Irwyn couldn’t help but blink. “It is close enough to resolved now, thankfully.”

“What does ‘Old Crow’ even mean?” she returned to a prior point. “It’s a weird title.”

“It’s obviously a Fowl,” Kalista shrugged.

“Foul?” she repeated doubtfully.

“Fowl, as in, bird,” Maxim corrected.

“Bird…” Alice paused, frowning as she visibly dredged up memories. “Oh, he did call my dad Rook. I thought it was meant like in chess but that is a bird as well, isn’t it? What do these titles even mean?”

“It might be talking about your father's past,” Aaron broached. “It speaks quite volumes, actually.”

“He did say it was an old nickname,” she paused. “Is it something bad?”

“Depends on how you look at it,” Kalista grinned.

“All about perspective,” Rainer added. “An honest living if you ask anyone here.”

“Fowl has a specific meaning in some circles,” Irwyn decided it would have to be him who properly explained, judging by her confused expression. “Specifically, the robbery and theft inclined ones.”

“Wha?” Alice seemed genuinely surprised. “My dad might have been brash at times but certainly no criminal!”

“He said himself it was an old nickname,” Aaron appeased. “It could have been in his youth, before you were even born, settling somewhere on the more over-the-desk side of things. It’s not common for those who make a Fowl but not unheard of. What was your father’s profession.”

“Enchanter,” Irwyn answered before she could get her thoughts in order. “Demand is always presumably high for that.”

“He could have been much like us,” Kalista hummed. “Orphan who had once grown under Old Crow’s charity. It fits with what you are saying.”

“I suppose… it’s not impossible,” Alice reluctantly admitted, clearly uncomfortable with it. “Why birds of all things though? That is just kind of dumb.”

“Which is why we use the word Fowl,” Aaron pointed out. “Each is a person of high competence, bearing respect of anyone in the Guild.”

“It still sounds stupid,” Alice reiterated.

“Now, now, you wouldn’t wanna hurt the feelings of the one in the room,” Waylan chuckled.

“Presenting in all his glory…” Kalista stood up, as if on cue, and began walking over to Irwyn.

“...the one and only!” Rainer followed her, both aligning behind their friend with all the improvised flair they could muster. “Young Mockingbird!”

“Chirp!” Irwyn did his best impression.

“Pfff,” Waylan nearly fell out of his chair.

“I…” Alice paused. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Chirp!” Irwyn shrugged.