Unbound

Felix led them down the street, sticking to the edges of the crowded thoroughfare. The roads were busy and loud, but Felix found it strange that there weren't any merchants hawking wares. It wasn't an obvious change, just an awkward silence in place of the thing he'd grown used to in every city he'd visited. People talked and shouted and laughed and argued, but it was a dull roar, unpunctuated by the vibrancy of over-eager merchants.

Instead, there were a multitude of shops, each marked with statues of metal. The statues were figures, often humans, but not always, their hands lifted in complicated gestures that looked like people releasing skills. These statues always sat beside or above the door in places of honor, carved out for them in the structure. Felix asked, but Zara didn't know their function. They seemed to be signifiers of some kind—at the very least, the garb of the figures seemed to match the services on offer. Those ranged from tailors, furniture makers, and inscriptionists, of course. The latter was the most prevalent, but inscriptions seemed to be part of every craft in the city. Even the hand trucks used by workers were marked with sigils designed to increase durability and speed.

Together, they wound through slanted avenues and terraced levels as the caldera Levantier was built upon sloped inward toward the center. It wasn't a steep angle by any means, but it was noticeable. Their view across rooftops was basically unimpeded, saved by a few outlier structures that rose a bit higher than most.

Trees and gardens were planted atop many buildings, filling the caldera with a freshness Felix hadn't been expecting. The Green Wilds sang within the city—not exceptionally strong, but bright. It was an interesting counterpoint to the confusing morass of noise the Mana all around him gave off. Birds flew through the air, great flocks of them, between the floating Towers and the inordinate amount of traffic.

Small Manaships filled the skies, clearly functioning as public and private transports. Many of them were similar to the sloop he'd once stolen from pirates in the Void, meant to move no more than a handful of people. Others were like wide, flat barges that slowly trundled across the sky, ferrying what looked like people as well as pallets of materials.

"These hills," Atar groused. “I might be hale, but it doesn't mean I enjoy trudging across hill and dale. Why can't we get one of those?" He flung a careless hand toward a sloop as it weaved between the metal peaks of the tenements and the ever-present air traffic.

"We'd be moving twice as slow up there," Felix pointed out. "It's chaos.”

“Frankly, I cannot determine how no one has crashed already," Alister added. "There seems to be no rules to their movements, just a constant jockeying for position."

Darius watched the skies, his gaze serious and stern. "Seen a few places like this, though it was wagon work. But even still, drovers are drovers. They fit where they can, and you either make way, or you're in for a bad time."

“Easier to explore from the ground,” Felix reiterated. “Maybe build up some leg strength for you.”

more strength is good. to climb to the peak requires much.

"I’m a mage, not some dockworker," Atar muttered, but the heat in his voice was gone.

They kept moving.

The crowds flowed similarly to the ships above, thinning in places only to press tight in others depending on the buildings around them. No matter if they were locals or visitors, most folks congregated around the shops and food markets, of which there were many. The smells of sizzling meat and seasoned vegetables was mouthwatering to Felix, but he passed around those areas whenever he could.

What they were seeking wasn’t going to be found in a food stall.

Coin passed hands all over as folks moved in and out of the shops lining every street. Boxes and chests filled with sundry items glowing with Mana were hauled from doorway after doorway, often in the hands of sweating attendants and their burly guards. Personal skiffs would occasionally dock at the upper levels of the buildings, disgorging mages in silken robes directly into some of the nicer facilities. There was a lot going on, all of the time, and that included thieves.

Pickpockets were everywhere, though Felix kept track of them as they wandered the crowd. He had spotted the first of them easily, and it wasn’t hard finding the rest as they ghosted among the throng. He had shaped his coin pouch into the inside of his Garment a while ago, but he wasn’t particularly concerned; the thieves didn’t approach them once. Perhaps it was due to the weapons they carried, or a Skill the urchins had, but their Spirits twitched uncomfortably whenever Felix met their eyes.

He wasn’t mad about it, but it did make him worry. If the pickpockets noticed something off about them, did anyone else? Felix eyed a man covered in silver Oaths. Did Siva?

Still, they hadn't been bothered or even glanced at twice, and all of them were listening with their Affinity. There were no sudden spikes of alarm or attention pushed their way, at least none they had noticed. The city being as crowded as it was, that was the best they could do.

Quite a few mage guards marched in formation around the different Towers and sections of the city. They were large and scowling, looking very similar to the Umber Tower's men, save for their color-coded armor. The dominant hues changed every couple of blocks as they left behind one section of the city for the next.

The famed Lucent Towers were all around them, and every single one floated higher than the Umber, though most only by a handful of stories. They were easy to see with the sloping terrain and stuck out, not only because of the glowing glyphs and sheets of liquid Mana that clung to their sides.

Every single Tower was also accompanied by a number of outbuildings, structures that floated beside the tall, often cylindrical Towers like moons around a planet. All of them were floating, too, connected by small bridges between chunks of earth and masonry that made up their bases. People swarmed those places, walking across parapets and in small walled gardens filled with floating lights, far more than in the Umber Tower.

Felix was thankful for the crown he wore, constantly realigning him whenever his attention veered off course. The thick connection across the sky was strong, tugging at his chest like he was made of iron, and the target was a magnet. If not for that, he’d have been dazzled by the sheer variety of Mana that surged all around him. The world was made of Mana, of course, but the Towers themselves exuded so much of it that it tangled across his senses in a confusing mess. Deep blue and purple-white rivers of liquid light poured past them, infusing the air and fueling dozens of enchantments inscribed into the buildings on the ground around the nearest Towers.

He mentioned that to Zara, and the woman bobbed her head in understanding. "The Towers have their outbuildings, but those are not the only support they enjoy. Each of these shops sells to the nearest mages, thriving off their largess. Why else would there be so many places specializing in protective gear, artifacts, and elixirs all so close together? The very presence of the Towers provides power for many of their enchantments. That Mana you see is flowing through these districts, pouring into receptacles within each of these homes. It is a mutually beneficial relationship that has deepened over the centuries."

It was fascinating, and Felix wondered if the technology could be replicated elsewhere. “Where are they getting all of this Mana from, though?”

She lifted a finger. “That is a question many nations have asked, and none but the Tower Masters know.”

“Do you think it’s an artifact?”

“Perhaps. All I know is that it is a feature unique to this mountain, at the very center of the city.”

“What’s at the center?”

“You’ll see. It’s quite a sight.”

“Bah, who cares where they get their magic? Azure Tower. Cerulean Tower. How many of these damned things specialize in cold and water Mana?” Atar groused, rubbing at his arms beneath his summer cloak.

“They do exude a persistent chill…but your Temper should protect you from any adverse effects, especially so far away.” Zara peered at him. “Is it the Urge?”

i am the undying flame. i am not “the urge.”

“...Apologies. Are you responsible for Atar’s discomfort?”

we—

“He is,” Atar interjected. “I’ve never been a fan of the cold, but now our…cooperation means the Mana in the air hurts. I could counteract them by burning brighter, using some of the heat and fire Mana inside me…but it’s too conspicuous right now. I’d shine like a torch in the dark.”

the cold of lesser magics is of no consequence. we are but biding our time before unveiling our grandeur.

“Uh-huh.” Felix stepped around a beggar and surreptitiously dropped a few silver coins into his bowl. “Is it a Skill?”

“Less a Skill than a technique surrounding one.”

“You should be practicing it, then. If cold is going to be an ongoing weakness, you need to overcome it now. Not later.”

the autarch is wise. we shall unveil our might to these lowly mages now. steal the very heat from their bones and render them into ash.

Felix frowned. “Just focus on keeping warm.”

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Atar pursed his lips and tucked a strand of curly white hair behind an ear. “Very well.”

While they walked, and Atar busied himself by manipulating his fire Mana, Zara continued to expound on the things she knew about Levantier.

Apparently, close to all of the etheric designs originated in Levantier, whether research into old methods or newly developed constructs. What’s more, the best Manaships were designed and built in the city.

“There, at the far end of the mountain. You can see the honeycombed shipyards.”

Felix did see them. They were carved into the edge of the caldera where the mountain resumed its climb upward toward the summit. No houses, shops, or even Towers were close to the shipyards, but visible waves of magic danced around the docks and bays.

“A useful place to have on our side,” Felix said.

“If they will join us, yes. If not, there are a number of powerful Grandmasters in the city that could make our time here…fraught.”

“Could they pose a threat to the three of us?”

“Ultimately, no. I believe I could face down one or two Grandmasters if I were required to do so, and you could likely destroy the city itself were you keen to try, Felix.”

He blanched. “I’m not.”

“And that is the point. The true threat is the loss of life, on our side and theirs. I’m not interested in saving the world from Ruin, only to leave it razed in our wake.”

Felix smiled, despite the stinging presence of Siva’s threads. “Me, either.”

“Gah!” Atar hissed, putting his fingers in his mouth. The skin was red, but the blemish faded quickly. “If they’re so powerful, why do they bend the knee to the Hierophant?”

“Why did your old Master consider it?”

“Resources, most likely.”

“Such is the way of the world. Levantier can make wondrous things…if they have the materials. Their trade with other Territories has long been a strength, but if the Hierocracy closed its borders this city of mages would find itself without means to support its populace.”

The crown led them inward to the center of the city. The caldera dipped farther and farther until the stepped sections became incredibly steep. The roads narrowed and no longer traveled in straight lines, instead spiraling down switchback paths that rode the edge of each terraced neighborhood. The buildings continued inward, skies speckled by glowing Towers and Manaships, until it came to the lowest portion of Levantier, where the bottom of the caldera began to even out. There, it was far more developed than in the outer edges of the city, with mansions and palaces that stretched over wide swaths of land. It was obviously the center of wealth and power in Levantier.

At the very center of the caldera, however, there were no buildings. Instead, there was a giant hole bored deep into the mountain. From a distance, it looked small, but judging by the size of the fortress that crowded around its edge, the hole was easily three city blocks wide.

“Whoa,” Felix said. “I see what you mean.”

Zara only smiled.

Rising from the enormous bored hole was a veritable geyser of liquid Mana. It poured upward, colorless and undifferentiated, sparkling in the morning sunlight like jewels tossed into the sky. At its peak, the Mana turned to vapor before falling to the earth once again, and Felix could track it as part of the thousands of rivers that swept through the city. Wherever the Mana was coming from, that bore was clearly responsible for the power that the Towers enjoyed.

At the very peak of its fount, just above the steaming vapor before it fell, was the highest of all Towers, a huge collection of floating islands draped with glowing banners of purple light.

“The Seal is there,” he said. The thick line drove toward it without deviating, ruler straight.

“The Violet Tower. The current rulers of Levantier.”

“Current. That suggests the Seal moves.”

“The Towers do. That island there, above the Vent? That is stationary, and the Tower that rules will settle atop it.”

“Where’d the island come from?” Alister asked.

“It has been located there since before the city was founded.” Zara pointed to a few other Towers in the sky. “There are many of them. Chunks of earth suspended by ancient etheric techniques that the mages reverse engineered to develop their Towers. The power to hold them aloft flags as it spreads outward, however. That’s why the ‘lesser’ Towers are so low to the ground.”

Standing at the edge of a terrace, Felix studied the Violet Tower. His Perception allowed him to see much of its structure, despite it being over a mile distant. Aside from the curtains of purple Mana that hung from the veritable floating fortress, it was covered in sigaldry. Much of it seemed to be decorative, causing the peaks of the spires to catch the sunlight or generating illusions that played across the walls. However, he spotted enough to recognize at least six different protective wards—and that was only on one of the smaller outbuildings.

“I’m gonna guess that it has wards strong enough to keep me out,” Felix said.

“A wise assumption.”

“Frontal assault on a mage’s floating fortress would be idiotic,” Darius agreed. “Even if it weren’t surrounded by allies and who knows how many armed Manaships.”

“Let’s call that Plan B,” Atar suggested.

listen to the autarch. such an assault would be a declaration of our might!

“That’s the opposite of what we’re hoping to accomplish,” Alister pointed out. “Keep up.”

“Quick and quiet. That’s the goal,” Felix reminded them all. “First step is finding a way in. Zara—”

“I will not!”

They all turned as a man’s voice echoed above the crowd, and people went still, necks craning to see the commotion. A tall and very skinny man stood next to a handcart full of wooden baubles, each inscribed with small glyphs that gave off a dull light. He wagged a bandaged finger in the face of a pair of blue armored guards.

The guard had several days worth of stubble across his cheeks and looked exhausted. He sighed. “Sir. All merchants must swear an Oath to Levantier in order to do business within its bounds.”

“I am not conducting business!” His dull yellow robes flapped in the breeze that threatened to knock his wide-brimmed hat askew. “I am simply handing out free samples of my wares! There is nothing against Levantier’s laws that says I cannot!”

“The laws have changed,” the other guard said, and venom laced his tone. “Oaths can’t be ignored. You wanna live here? Wanna bring your shitty knicknacks to our streets? You get yourself bound.”

“That’s outrageous!”

The bored guard rolled his eyes and gestured to the merchant. “Come with us to the metal mages’ Tower, and we’ll get you sorted quickly. You won’t like the other option.”

“I’ll not be swearing anything!” The yellow merchant’s voice went shrill, and he grabbed the handles of his cart and started pushing. “And I’ll be telling everyone I know not to sell anything in this town again!”

The guard moved fast. His fist connected with the merchant before he could take a single step, and it dropped him in a heap. The cart flipped over, spilling the rounded wooden baubles onto the ground. They bounced down the sloped cobblestones, scattering in all directions.

“Blasted foreigners,” said the tired one.

Blood dribbled down the merchant’s face, now split open across his nose, lip, and cheek. “Y-you hit me!”

“And you’ll get more if you don’t shut your yap and come with us!”

Felix’s blood boiled. Seeing someone treated like that—there was no reason for it. He stepped forward.

Zara grabbed his shoulder. “Quick and quiet, remember? We cannot afford to interfere. Not now.”

He took another step and dragged Zara as she held on. “Felix!” she hissed.

The guards reached for the merchant again, but the man in yellow spat out something unintelligible, and fire burst from his open mouth.

The guards shouted, conjuring shields of ice that blunted the merchant’s assault, but not enitrely. The yellow man shouted something else. and the fire tightened, becoming two beams of orange light that sheared through their shields. Ice melted and failed, and the guards threw up enchanted vambraces against the onslaught.

quite the talent for fire. The Urge made sniffing noises from within Atar. delicious mana.

“This is pointless escalation,” Darius muttered. “Someone is going to get hurt, and it won’t be them.”

Felix agreed. “Atar, consume any fire or heat Mana that comes too close to the bystanders. Alister, ready your force shields to protect from stray blasts.”

“Already readied,” Alister said, hand on the pommel of his sheathed blade.

“Good. We should—” Felix’s words faltered as his senses throbbed. The shadow of silver intruded into his awareness as the world thrummed around him. He swiftly shifted to Skein of Fate, letting it burn within his core. The vast network of silver threads around them quaked, shaking as if a fly had gotten tangled in a spider’s web. Felix felt a sliver of something that pivoted toward this tiny altercation.

Abruptly, the threads around the guards flared, bulging around their limbs like snakes attempting to swallow too much. The wriggling threads flexed, and the guards lifted their arms outward, pushing back the beams of fire just as their flagging shields of ice thickened and grew back. In the angry guard’s hand, a halberd of frost formed from his free hand, and he grasped it and swung in one brutal move.

It slashed into the merchant across the shoulder and chest, spattering blood onto the dry cobbles as the fire went out.

A second strike took the merchant down completely.

“Is he—” Alister asked.

“No,” Felix said, watching the man’s Health loss taper off. “He’s hurt badly, though.”

The guards, armor still steaming with icy Mana, hauled the unconscious merchant around, slapping him in manacles and an elision collar for good measure. The tired one hoisted him up on a shoulder, and without another word, they walked off.

I Smell Food, Hunger rumbled. Familiar Food.

Siva. Was that her attention I felt? Or something else?

“Zara, can Oaths channel power?” he asked quietly.

“They are conduits of power, but they do not function in such a way…except to enact the terms of Oathbound agreements.”

“Hm.” He had felt something, he was sure of it. “Power was being channeled to them by someone. Through the Oaths. I could see them swell.”

i felt it, too. the ice swelled to overcome the fire. it was…unnatural.

Atar rubbed his hands, as if his knuckles pained him. “Could be it’s the Towers. Maybe they’re using the Oaths to funnel power to a special few?”

“Perhaps. I would sooner suspect a new form of sigaldry than altering an Oathbinding…but I trust your senses, Felix.” Zara looked around them. The crowd had resumed its flow, though a few shopkeepers and locals stared after the arrested merchant with carefully neutral expressions.

“They mentioned laws changing. That is concerning. We need more information if we’re to breach the Violet Tower. I have a contact in the city…he should be able to get us in.”

Felix finally turned away from the retreating guards. “Who?”

“Someone you’re quite familiar with, Felix. Pagewright Vilas Tern.”