Hope

Alice snuck out of her room in the early morning with practiced light steps. The boards of the floor did not creak nor had the door as she made her way downwards, down, down, towards their house’s conference room where she knew that guest was being entertained.

She had set up a little trigger, just a basic enchantment to tell her when they entered. Unlike her dad, Alice’s talents leaned more towards direct application of magic. That did not mean that she had not meticulously learned what she could of enchantment. She once dreamed of attaining her Daut’s capability at craft, though now that she had a better understanding of what that level was she had been mostly disillusioned of it. Notably, that did not mean that she had completely given up; just prioritized other parts of her training. She would have time later on in life.

As she reached the back wall of the conference room she took a deep breath, looking around for her mom; she was nowhere in sight for the moment though so Alice could begin. She carefully whispered her spell.

“I know and trust

Wisdom’s hold

Therefore I must

Hear and behold”

And she imbued into it every ounce of focus that she could muster. Hide, Pierce and Empower. Three intention spells were… not easy for her. She could still manage a decent few but this one was particularly complex given what it needed to do. It was supposed to prodigious to just be capable of any intention in her magic at such a young age, though she distinctly, and somewhat bitterly, remembered a certain someone just as young completely eclipsing her in that regard.

Their house was heavily enchanted. As any master artisan’s ought to. Someone at her current capacity would have frankly stood no chance of breaking through them. But most of those protections were aimed against spells coming from the outside. The enchantments were still strong but mostly meant to prevent attacks. Alice’s spell was no such thing so just barely it got through.

The first thing she noticed as the spell established hearing and sight inside the room was her dad twitching slightly. Obviously, someone at his level would immediately notice, though considering he was not storming out to chide her nor immediately breaking down her magic she was probably in the clear to listen to the rest of the conversation. Easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Normally she would be far less daring, most guests Daut would entertain under their roof were so good at magic they would undoubtedly notice and might take offence, however, this one was an exception. In fact, they were not even a mage which had been upseting her mom severely during the guest’s stay. Alice also did not quite understand why her dad was showing them such deference.

Because next to her father sat just an old man, withered and full of wrinkles; though still healthy despite their clearly advanced age. They wore that confident, easy-going smile as if immune to her mom’s poorly concealed hostility shown over their stay. And also drinking that tea. Alice had tried some when the man had offered and found it nothing special, just decent tea; the man had said afterwards that few people could truly enjoy it, whatever that meant. Lastly, the man went by a strange name. Her dad only called him…

“....Old Crow. Either way, despite the incredible hassle it’s finished,” the conversation was already ongoing.

“I apologize for how complicated what I ask was,” the man nodded. “Though you were the only man I could think of that might be capable of it. If you need anything I can offer, you shall have it.”

“Think nothing of it,” her dad just shrugged to Alice’s disbelief. He was not even getting paid for this? “I owe you this ten times over.”

“Oh?” the old man raised an eyebrow with exaggerated facial movement and a slight grin. “I thought you did not do handouts?”

Then her father did something unexpected: He laughed out loud. This startled Alice. He never laughed when doing business; always serious to his guests even if he adapted his speech a bit. He might do polite smiles and perhaps even joke around when he thought it appropriate, but never laugh. Not even to clients he was friendly with. Alice knew that as she had been used as a ‘cute little girl’ prop when she was a bit younger from time to time, not to mention he never ever acknowledged how his name sounded so comical.

“What can I say? I can make an exception for an old friend.”

“Well, I can hardly refuse the generosity,” the old man nodded cordially. “Though I will remember this if you ever need anything.”

“If I can find you,” her dad grinned. “You know, everyone I asked really thought you had an unfortunate encounter in the last lich war.”

“I was hurt at a siege,” the man acknowledged. “My stay in hiding had been extended by… circumstances local and political. Let me at least give you a warning of what I was able to gleam lately. There will be a struggle for power at the highest echelons of Duchy of Black within the decade; maybe as soon as 5 years. There might be something similar to the war that had almost broken out against the Duchy of Yellow right before that great Lich appeared 16… I suppose 17 years ago now. If my estimate is correct it will be bloody, sudden and onesided but if things get drawn out, it will be basically a civil war.”

“Damn, things really do not change with you,” Daut snorted, though she could tell he was much more serious than a moment prior. She herself was stunned; how could an old man, not even a mage, possibly know such things? Even in Steelmire knowledge about the leadership of their adjacent duchies was limited. “Even when you help people it only adds to their worries.”

“Well, I would hate for you to get dragged into anything lethal,” Old Crow… the Old Crow? What was up with that name? just shrugged.

“I will try to bring the clan head’s attention to it, though he probably wouldn’t hold your advice in high regard. I will figure a way to lead him towards those conclusions I suppose.”

“Well, if he is stubborn about it, I am sure I can do enough digging to impress him,” the old man sipped his tea and smiled. “His type tends to quickly develop respect when you start reciting full names of their acquaintances from a century or two ago.”

“Well, now I am imagining what face the old man would make,” Daut grinned and Alice had to do the same just for the absurdity. She could just imagine it: The light surprise, quickly concealed into a pleasant smile followed by an invitation to… tea probably given the Old Crow seemed to be partial to it. Alice was not great at reading people in general but she had gotten pretty good at understanding those right around her.

“Your leader has always been a wise man,” Old Crow nodded. “I am sure with enough clues he will be brought to caution.”

“I certainly hope so,” Alice’s dad nodded, then changed the topic. “When will you be leaving?”

“Right away if you do not mind,” Old Crow said. “I am sure that your love will be glad to be rid of me.”

“Please don’t think too badly of her. She is a wonderful woman but she just does not understand this because of her upbringing.”

“What are you? 15 again that you would seek my approval over a girl?” Old Crow chuckled. “I am going to be far too busy to hold a grudge over some slight.”

“Yes, I suppose,” Daut also chuckled, shaking his head. “I assume this is meant for someone. Similar to me?”

“Perhaps even more talented than you were, though they had gotten into some serious trouble with the law,” the old man nodded. “I am going to be calling in a lot of favours in the following month and hope that gets them out alive.”

“You know… if necessary I could…” Alice’s dad hesitated.

“Don’t even say it. The issue might be a tad too big for your valley,” the Old Crow said and Alice spluttered. What kind of problem too big for Steelmire could he possibly tackle?

“That bad, huh,” her dad took it completely seriously though.

“Even worse than you are thinking. Thankfully, even more dangerous people have taken interest in them.”

“Good for your latest prodigy then,” Daut nodded. “You will have to introduce us at some point in a few years. I am always looking for new clients.”

“I certainly will when this problem finally blows over, though that will not be before the Duchy of Black resolves their internal dispute. But I am stalling,” the old man sighed. Then he turned and stared directly into the spot from which Alice was looking at them. Right at that slightest pinpoint that was her magic. But he was not a mage. “Give my best regards to your daughter,” he chuckled lightly. “I am sure she will make a wonderful leader in a decade or two.”

“Do you want a bit of a head start?” Daut asked.

“North-east if you would,” the old man nodded. “I am headed towards Dawbre next.”

“The Pelican? I had no idea he owed you a favor or a few,” Daut said as he reached into his pocket, taking out a spherical device which he deployed with a practised motion. It quickly stirred and activated, Alice feeling the fabric of Time and Space being lightly realigned.

“That’s the trick, Rook, everyone owes me a favor or two,” Old Crow grinned and just a moment later the magic grasped him, whisking him away a good distance away from Steelmire. There was a limit because of Finity, however, if Alice recognized the expensive device correctly it could save days of travel.

“Alice, if you would please come in,” her dad sighed, sitting down.

“Good morning,” she greeted as soon as she entered, “I am sorry I eavesdropped like that but I was just so curious…”

“I figured, though what did I tell you about that when it comes to my guests?” he said, though did not even bother to frown.

“That most of them might take offence if they noticed the attempt,” she recited. “But he is not even a mage and I was being sneaky.”

“You underestimate the old man too much, just like your mother,” Daut sighed deeply.

“Even if he is smart or good at whatever he does, how would he overcome incapacity for magic?” Alice shrugged. In the end, people incapable of magic could only become so competent. The human body had limitations, unlike the soul.

“And that is exactly the way both of you think,” Daut nodded. “And that might indeed be the case for almost anyone. But Old Crow is simply different.”

“How so? You said yourself he is not a mage.”

“I did and yet…” her father closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. “I think the best example is the simplest one. I have first met Old Crow a long time ago, when I was barely a lad of some ten years or so. Can you imagine how he looked back then?”

That was… some 35 years ago. She imagined the old man had to be well into their 70s or maybe even older but she tried to imagine them middle-aged, without graying hair, fewer wrinkles…

“Whatever it is you are imagining Alice, it’s wrong,” het dad interrupted her then. “You see, three and a half decades ago, the Old Crow looked exactly the same as today.”

“How is that possible?” Alice’s eyes widened. Over almost four decades even very powerful mages would show some signs of aging, even if undergoing treatment.

“Who knows?” Daut chuckled. “I let him keep his secrets. You see, I once got curious about this, a few years before I met your mother, and managed to find the oldest mage I could meet who knew Old Crow personally. You know what they told me? That when they first met some 80 years ago from today, Old Crow already looked like a timeworn elder.”

“And you did not search further?” Alice was surprised. Any method of extending one’s lifespan had obvious value, especially if it could somehow be combined with those already in use by old mages. Performing those services provided incredible wealth and prestige

“I respect him too much for that, Alice,” her dad shook his head. “Just like I did not try to guess who the person he wanted the box for is; even if I have my suspicions. Not everything in this world is about profit or benefits. Gratitude also matters. Old Crow helped me when I was an orphan with nothing but a bit of talent and grit; raised me up instead of letting me die in a gutter like most would. I will never forget that.”

“He called you Rook… like in chess? Is that an old nickname?”

“Older than you are,” he chuckled. “Though don’t mention it in front of your mother. She doesn’t want me to talk about my life before I was ‘tamed’.”

“Is that so,” a mischievous grin snuck to her lips. “Maybe I better ask her for details.”

“I am sure she will appreciate that and not take vengeance on us both,” Daut laughed. “Though maybe I can bribe you to occupy yourself. Your grandfather should finally be returning from his mission soon.”

“Really?!” Alice chittered with joy. It had been weeks since her grandpa had gone and she missed him. She also wanted to vent some of her frustration about being beaten at spellcraft by a certain boy of similar age.

“Perhaps you should go greet him,” Daut said. “His squad had passed through the southern outpost less than an hour ago. They should be home before noon.”

“I will wait in his office then,” she immediately nodded. Even if she had to wait a few hours, there would be plenty of things to occupy herself with in there. Her grandpa kept several collections of wonderous items.

“I will tell your mother to make lunch just for two,” he nodded, knowing she would stay over to eat. “Enjoy yourself.”

“I will,” she smiled. “Bye, dad. See you at dinner.”

Her grandpa arrived much sooner than she would have expected. Even with conservative teleportations, it should take them hours to get home from the outpost in the south. Unlike Abonisle, Steelmire did not possess a temporal beacon or anything close to it after all. If teleporting to or from a beacon was like driving down a highway, long-distance transposition without was comparatively like going through an overgrown forest in most places. Steelmire was a bit better because they had some meta-physical infrastructure to make it easier, however, it was still straining even for the best mages they had to hurry overmuch.

And her grandpa was the best mage they had. Technically speaking, there should have been several greats before the grandfather part, however, Alice disposed of them since they were so close. Although her grandpa was a few years past his second century of life, he still retained some youth, even still personally going on missions more often than even needed.

Steelmire was after all still primarily a mercenary city. Although the upper echelons were closely related in a ‘clan’ of a kind, they still facilitated many mercenary mages or even regular people; lending out their name and reputation in exchange for a cut. There were some contracts though that required the best of the best and her grandpa had gone on exactly one such mission. He had done so half a hundred times just in Alice’s own memory so not a worry had crossed her mind.

Until she saw the man teleport into the office, short of breath and noticeably more hunched than usual.

“Oh, Alice,” her grandpa said as he spotted her, slightly startled. And that was an even bigger sign that something was amiss. Her grandpa was never startled.

“What’s wrong, gramps?” Alice asked, noticing the man’s feverish eyes. The bags from the lack of sleep and trembling of hands. Signs of exhaustion all around. But her grandfather was a demigod in his own right, a mage exceptional even in the Federation, the kind that could feasibly challenge even some of the younger Dukes. It was not easy to push him to such a state.

“Alice, oh, dear Alice, I might have made a horrible, horrible mistake,” he said, calming down a bit. His eyes focused more turning to a cabinet. He took a step there and with one motion opened a drawer and removed something. “Here it is. Thankfully you are already here,” he turned around and Alice realised he was now holding a signet ring. One she knew very well. She had been eyeing it for years now, long promised to her. The Chosen Heir’s mark.

But it was too early. Maybe a decade more, her grandpa would always tell her. If you reach conception before it is granted, you will be beyond questioning or challenge. But now he held it, almost desperately giving it to her. Alice’s stomach twisted in fear.

“What in the world happened?” she said, an octave higher than she meant to.

“Oh, Alice, we have seen something that shouldn’t be seen,” her Grandpa sighed deeply, a tremble unlike any she could ever remember from the man coursing through his body. “It was by accident. It really was. If we had the slightest inkling… any idea at all, we would not have gone. But it is done and we were noticed. And I am so terribly afraid of what might happen as a result.”

“Who did you offend? What did you see?” Alice demanded. “Is it one of the Dukes?” Steelmire did border three duchies after all and her granpa was one of the greatest mages alive. Who else could frighten him so?

“Not yet, Alice, not yet,” her grandpa shook his head. “If there is any hope for this to resolve peacefully I cannot tell you. But we must prepare before…” then her Grandpa paused. “Nevermind. They are already almost here. We will have to improvise…” he thought for a moment. “Yes, that is the way to go. Alice, have you practiced the stealth magic I have taught you.”

“Yes, I have become proficient in it,” Alice nodded.

“Good,” her Granpa smiled. “I need you to cast it, better than ever before. Until a tiger could not hear your breath, until a wolf could not smell you in the same room, an eagle could not see you on an empty field. Until your very soul is completely beyond perception.”

“That… is a lot to ask,” Alice was quickly feeling much less confident.

“I know, I know, but I believe in you. They will be looking for my magic and notice if I do it for you. And you will have this,” he gave her the ring. “With it, I know you can do it.”

And she tried. Putting on the ring she felt power coursing through her. Clarity unlike anything she had ever felt before. It made her feel so much better. Lighter and more competent. With focus beyond anything she had managed in all her life she nodded to her grandpa’s encouraging eyes and spoke words well practiced; not hesitating:

“In our corner little

We built a nation brittle

The meek and their betters

Both Concealed in fetters

For that which is bound

Shall nevermore be found”

And she felt the effects immediately. Like chained, her limbs grew stiff and numb. Her knees almost buckled as she struggled against what felt like doubled or even tripled gravity. That exceptional clarity receded leaving her feeling barely better than before she had put on the ring. Her senses grew a little duller, her thoughts slower.

But she was hidden. For every little bit of weakness caused by that spell was spent twofold to help conceal her. A spell speaking of legends half-forgotten, kept secret among her clan and bloodline. A spell left behind by her distant ancestor who had founded Steelmire, their records speaking of how he had bound himself to others in order to be allowed to form their group at the border of three Duchies. Hiding in those fetters, pretending to be weak as their schemes came to fruition without any of the three Dukes so much as suspecting anything.

Sadly the word of mouth also spoke of the failure. Of how despite everything, in the end, the founder died through failing to claim a Name; despite decades of preparation. It was perhaps the deepest secret Alice had been privy to, carefully hidden from the Duchies. Those at the height of power, after all, hated the uncontrollable variables that independent Named represented and tended to punish failures brutally even after the incomplete ascendant perished in the attempt; just to discourage others from doing the same. The Soulscatcher was a living example of how an unaffiliated Named could disturb the balance of power after all.

“You have done well Alice,” her grandpa nodded, clearly struggling to keep his eyes on her despite her standing right in front of him and the extreme difference in their relative power. “It is not quite perfect but it will do. Alright, in a few moments, I will move you to a crawlspace just below the floor here. You will be able to hear everything but do not make a sound. If anything happens that leaves me indisposed I need you to tell everyone exactly what happens.”

“Are you in danger?” Alice gasped, her voice coming out as a distant whisper, muted by the spell. Finally, it dawned on her why her grandpa wanted to take all these measures; she should have realized it much sooner.

“I will not lie Alice,” her grandpa sighed again, looking so pale. “I will do everything I can to avert disaster but if the worst comes to pass you must be strong. Whatever happens, I know that you will live up to my every expectation. I wish we could talk more Alice but they are almost here,” he then flicked his wrist and Alice was underneath the floor, lying in a tight space. With the sheer qualitative difference, she had not felt the slightest amount of magic course. That was to be expected though, so she steadied her breath the best she could and did exactly as she had promised: Hid and listened.

It was less than a minute later when another set of footsteps entered the room. Slow and confident, perfectly paced.

“Welcome,” her grandpa said, his voice firm again. She realised he was sitting directly above her, helping conceal her just by not suppressing his own powerful presence. I might have been suffocating if their high affinity for Time did not match his own. “I apologize that I have neglected to prepare tea. If you wish I can call for a servant.”

“That will not be necessary,” a new voice replied. Alice thought it sounded at least middle-aged, maybe old. It was hard to tell without seeing anything. She could also not feel the slightest trace of any magic beside her gradpa’s though that was always going to be the case. Still, she had hoped she might at least feel the person’s affinity if they didn’t bother hiding it.

“Straight to business then,” her granpa said, she could just imagine how he would be nodding. “First of all, I will obviously apologize for the incident. Please believe me, if we had the slightest inkling of what we would find we would have rejected the contract outright.”

“Obviously you would have,” the other voice replied. “But you didn’t have the slightest idea because until now I have made sure that not a word of it was known to anyone anywhere.”

“I realize that this is upsetting to you and what an awkward position this situation has put you into. That is why Steelmire will fully cooperate with any measures you wish to take. I have strictly forbidden everyone else in my team from so much as utter the slightest mention of the events and we are all naturally open to revealing the employer as well as having our memory of the incident erased, including myself of course.”

Alice stopped herself from gasping. This must have been even worse than her grandpa had implied. Modifying memory was a dangerous process that required incredibly skilled mages or risked severe side effects but it was a completely different story to allow a mage that you did not have implicit trust in to perform this kind of procedure. False memories and hidden commands were a serious risk and allowing it would be an act of complete submission. Yet her grandfather did not even try to avoid that and instead offered it immediately as if it was the bare minimum.

“Tell me, old friend, do you know the odds?” the other voice sighed deeply.

“The odds of what?” her grandpa sounded perhaps slightly confused.

“The odds of betrayal from your comrades. The odds that someone had written down what they had found. The odds that someone had told their spouse or child. The odds that something slips through the crack of a changed memory.”

“Everyone who had gone with me are some of the most loyal men and women I have at my disposal,” Alice’s grandpa tried to appease the worries. “I have worked closely with each of them for at least half a century, longer with most. They obey me implicitly, especially in something this serious.”

“So tell me then, what are the odds they do not? One in a thousand? In ten thousand? A hundred?” the other voice rose half a pitch. “That they are not as loyal as you think? That you lie to better appease me? That there are other things at play we have not even considered? Do you actually comprehend what is at stake if just the slightest whisper of this reaches a single wrong ear?”

“I understand it would put you and everyone close to you into great peril,” Alice’s grandpa said. “But if this is handled with prudence the odds of even the slightest hint of this emerging are extremely remote. Look me in the eyes, you know I am not lying. We have known each other for decades. And I can offer my personal services for dealing with those issues in the case that any emerge; free of charge, of course.”

Then there was silence. A good half dozen seconds before the unknown person released such a bone-weary sigh Alice could almost feel the tiredness and… sadness?

“If it was anything else, old friend, I would have calculated the odds. Considered the dangers and benefits. Put the consequences against what I could gain. But in this… The truth is that in this, one in a hundred million is too great of a risk.”

“Even if you kill me it will not improve the odds of hiding this,” her grandpa’s voice grew tense as Alice felt her heartbeat rapidly go out of control. No please no. Not this. “Rather, it will only raise questions.”

“I think you misunderstand,” the voice sighed again. “Not a clue must escape. Not the slightest inkling of anything. Not even a hint of suspicion. Far too much is at stake… Though I will regret it for the rest of my days, tonight Steelmire will be erased.”

“You are mad if you think this will work,” Alice’s blood froze in her veins, her mind descending into panic as her grandpa also lost their cool. “You would be murdering thousands upon thousands of innocent people just for worse odds. Others will look and they will figure out it could have only been you. Even if they cannot prove it they will know and it will raise questions. Please, this is not the path you want to go down. Your own niece lives here.”

“Seven and thirty-six,” the other voice said and Alice despite feeling near catatonic felt magic gather as both men prepared to clash. “There have been seven incidents provably involving necromancy or undead in the Duchy Federation over the last three months. Thirty-six where such involvement is suspected. The pattern is clear, we are in a prelude to the next Lich war and everyone knows how valiantly Steelmire performed in the last one 16 years ago. When the Deathseekers come to investigate, they will conclude that you were merely the first true casualty. An isolated target of opportunity.”

“You are mad, utterly insane,” her grandpa spat. “You will not get away with this,” The magic gathering now made Alice feel distinctly suffocated despite also being a Time mage. And the pressure was only rising.

“It is already done,” the voice spoke, one last deep sigh. “I am sorry it had come to this, old friend, I really am.”

Then all that magic was let loose. Hundreds of spells, each leagues beyond anything Alice could ever conjure. A genuine tide of magic clashing, utterly overwhelming Alice’s senses for a moment. And then one touched her. A hidden tendril grasped her, a single subtle surge, perfectly concealed among the barrage of magic that did not bother with any subtlety. It grasped her and then she felt no more of that battle.

Because she was in a forest. Sitting on the ground. She felt the trace of that magic which had brought her here, shatter and retract so that it could not be traced. So that no one would know such a teleportation had even taken place. There had been no time for words. Not a moment for a goodbye.

Alice sat there on the ground in sheer shock for what felt like hours. Then she screamed.