Unbound

Felix paced at the edge of a sloped roof, the sky of Levantier above him full of Manaships slowly meandering between him and the clouds. He worried at his lip with his teeth. It had been several long minutes since Pit had eaten the Twilit Ape, and all Felix had to soothe himself was silence.

Pit. Is it done? Is the fight over?

Yeah. His Companion sounded tired. People got hurt, but I'm helping.

Hurt? Felix's thoughts went to Vess immediately. Who? How many?

Haven't counted. Lots. Oh! A measure of pep returned to Pit's voice. We found one!

One what?

A tenku!

Felix loosed a breath. Really? Where? Did the map lead you to them?

It did. Sorta. But that's how we found this Twilit Ape, anyway, who was chasing her.

Tired or not, Pit's emotions swelled with pride. I'm a hero.

A grin stretched Felix's lips. He was proud of his friend, too, but mostly he was relieved. Team Flight had already taken a significant step toward completing a fourth of their ultimate task.

Is she still there?

I think so—yeah, she's out there, flying around our fleet. I don't think she trusts us yet.

Wait, fleet? What fleet?

A whisper of effort rippled through his friend. I'll explain later. I'm healed up, so I gotta keep helping.

Go. Felix forced his emotions to still. He envisioned buildings crawling over them and crystalline houses sealed tight around his fear and anxiety as Void Sanctuary hummed within him. Do what you can. Tell me more later.

I will.

Their bond faded into the gulf of distance between them, until Felix could feel little from his Companion. With them being so far away from one another, Pit was only a mote in the corner of his consciousness, easily accessed but muted, like a friend in another room of a huge mansion.

Zara landed atop the roof, her black chorister robes fluttering around her. "Are things settled? You seemed terrified for a moment there."

"Yeah. There was an attack. Pit handled it."

"That is a relief. I did not know your Companion bond could be accessed at such a large distance. You’ve never mentioned it.”

“We weren't sure. Never tested it this far away."

"It is good that we can stay in touch with at least one of the teams. Would that you had a second Companion to send to Jaast."

"I think I have enough people in my head."

Hmm?

Yeah, I'm talking about you. Go back to sleep.

Hunger settled back, the darkness at his center swirling a touch faster. She had been resting more and more recently, but she was alert now.

"Hey! Who's on my roof? Get off before I call the guard!"

Felix winced. “We should get going."

"Indeed."

"So, it was a Divine monster that attacked them?" Atar asked.

Felix walked with the others now, hands in his pocket as they trudged across a short bridge. "Yeah, created by Noctis and Vellus. We tasted it ourselves, and it’s impossible to mistake them.”

“We knew they were a threat. Your visions saw these Moontouched," Zara said. "Pit handled himself incredibly well."

"He's a strong boy," Felix agreed. "I didn't get all the details yet, but it sounds like they found some Manaships and a lead on their goal."

"Better than us," Atar admitted. "Faster, too. How long have we been walking in this city? It's nearly nightfall."

"Tern's home is on the opposite side of the caldera, and there are no convenient pathways," Zara explained. "And no, for the tenth time, we will not take a ship."

Atar rolled his eyes. "Why not cloak us in your Void Skill and let us leap across this Blighted city?”

“There's too much weirdness going on here. The Oath threads, the Towers, and their magic auras… I can't be certain we won't be spotted by wards or worse."

Felix looked out toward the center of Levantier. The Violet Tower stood tall, visible whenever the skyline opened up. "We're in a hurry, but we're not going to be stupid about it."

Lanterns turned on as they walked the winding streets, the ambient magic in the air activating the moment the shadows grew too thick. The evening was warm, but an occasional refreshing breeze wound through the city, originating from the peak of the mountain. They were nearly in the Frostfells, that long range that ran east to west across this portion of the Continent, the same one that bordered Nagast's northern edge. If they traveled a thousand or so miles north, they'd hit the Hoarfrost, and about twice that eastward would bring them to the Rimefangs.

"Vilas Tern," Alister said after a moment. "I can't believe you know him, Zara."

She smiled gently. "An acquaintance from my time in this city, many long years ago."

"Amazing.”

“Am I the only one who doesn't know this guy?" Atar asked. "Wait, is this that researcher you love? The one who made the modern Manaship?"

"Yes. You remembered!” Alister put arm around the fire mage. “Except he didn't make the Manaship. He just adapted some of the old diagrams for the engines so he could make them out of modern materials."

"Impressive. I guess."

"More than impressive. The man's a genius."

Alister wasn't the type to say that lightly, yet Felix recalled him saying so previously when they'd sailed the Leviathan Depths. The force mage's core space was even inspired by the machinery that Tern had helped create.

Mostly, Felix knew him from the book he'd written. The Vicissitudes was a tome he'd been gifted by Prioress Kartez of the Menders, and it detailed the responsibilities of the powerful. He'd later been told that it was a banned book, which made sense considering people's attitudes toward anything resembling... he supposed “social responsibility” was the best term. It was a fascinating read, and it had, in some respects, led Felix down the path of rulership he now walked.

"Zara, what can you tell us about this guy?" Felix asked after a moment.

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“He is a mage. He was once a Pagewright of the Violet Tower.”

"And what's that?"

"A Pagewright is one of their upper echelons, second only to the Tower Master. But Tern was in a unique position," Zara said. "His intelligence and ingenuity earned him that."

"And why isn't he in the Violet Tower now?" Atar asked. He gestured around them, where the buildings were painted varying shades of red. "And why are we here in—what was it called? The Red Tower's neighborhood?"

"The Carmine Tower. We are here because Vilas is no longer in the Violet Tower. He settled just a bit farther along here between the Carmine and Aquamarine Towers' influence. Focusing on fire and water, respectively, they are rivals in the deepest sense. Both have once ruled Levantier, but now they fight for second place, ever since the Schism.”

“So, he was kicked out of the Violet, and now he's settled between two rivals, both of which were rivals of his previous Tower. How come he isn’t dead?"

"The Carmine and Aquamarine Tower won't make a move on him. To do so would suggest that they’re either trying to kill him, as you suggest, or worse: recruit him. Both would induce further machinations from their rivals.”

“So, he's playing all the angles," Atar said, approvingly.

power does not require angles, Flame muttered. it only requires a target.

“Be that as it may, Tern is extremely Skilled and incredibly intelligent. Not in the sense of stats, or even his Tempered Mind. Instead, it is an inquisitiveness that is rivaled by very few on the Continent. The Violet Tower claims they ejected him, but it is widely known to be a lie. He left. Rumor has it that the Violet is still attempting to lure him back."

"Why'd he leave?" Felix asked.

"The official story is differences of opinion with Tower leadership.”

“Sounds like you doubt that.”

“Tern is the kind of mage you don't argue with. He's the kind you shovel resources to and wait for his next breakthrough." Alister shook his head, a sour expression twisting his face. "I cannot imagine any organization stupid enough to drive him out.”

Hm.

Felix looked ahead as the street widened into an angular intersection, the red buildings giving way to blue-green structures just beyond. Situated in the middle, in a lot where the street split, was a yard overgrown with weeds and thorn bushes on all sides. The plant life was wrapped around the base of the home that sat in its center, clinging like thick serpents studded with bright red thorns.

“I take it this is Tern’s place,” Atar said, looking up.

Built atop a tall foundation of what looked like rusted iron pillars, the place was a leaning collection of wooden boards and angled stone slabs. The outside was painted a bright yellow, a stark contrast to the reds and blue-greens on either side of it. Windows covered most of its walls, not just in size but in quantity. Tiny, medium, and large rectangles were filled with colored glass and flanked by shutters of varying hue, though they leaned toward whatever clashed the most. It was almost painful to look at, and Felix could only imagine how annoyingly bright it'd be in the daylight.

Zara snorted, and Felix gave her a questioning glance. "He mocks them even in this. The paint, as far from carmine, aquamarine, or violet as he could go, while also being blatantly garish. It is something he would do."

She strode forward, walking through a narrow pathway through the thorns and onto a winding staircase that had seen better days. The moment she stepped on it, the entire staircase wobbled, and it did so increasingly as they ascended, each step sending creaks through the structure as paint chipped from it in great flakes onto the ground below.

"Bloody ash! This is a hazard," Atar complained. He pressed his weight onto a plank, and it cracked. He pulled back in alarm. "I get the feeling this man does not like visitors. I wouldn't be surprised if he started dropping boiling oil on us next."

A large, triangular door stood at the end of the stairs, which rose perhaps two stories before the house began. It was set atop a narrow porch without a railing, fitted with a single flickering Manalamp. A doorknocker was set into the wood, and it was the most imposing feature yet.

"This definitely feels like a trap," Atar said.

Alister elbowed him. “Shush.”

The door knocker was shaped like a large, male face made of rusted iron and easily the size of Felix's head. Severe-looking with sharp cheekbones, a high forehead, and a well-groomed beard of curls, it was a handsome face. There was a hinge splitting its beard just below its twisted mustache and extending across its entire lower jaw. Felix inspected it and the door beneath, but nothing dangerous leapt to his attention, even as he briefly flared Manasight. The whole building was layered with so many arrays that it was blinding even to him. He cut off the Skill, and for a moment, his vision was speckled with afterimages.

"It's clearly enchanted, but I don't see any traps." Felix pressed the iron chin backward and let it go. It snapped forward instantly, slamming together like a hammer on steel.

The building before them rippled as if made of water, radiating from the knocker in spreading concentric circles. Then the windows began to light up. Sigaldry flashed, rising to the surface of the building before disappearing again, tracing lines that flowed in and out of view. The wooden walls flexed one last time, hard lines tightening around the triangular door, until it looked like exposed beams pointing at the entrance.

The knocker opened its eyes.

"Gah!" Atar exclaimed.

"Who dares approach my home?" The knocker demanded in a booming voice. The house rippled again, shockwaves rolling away from the iron face. "What ruffian hedge-mage dares—"

He peered at them. "Zara Cyrene?” “Hello, Vilas."

The iron face looked at them all and pursed its rusted lips. The hinge creaked. "Why?"

"The Realms are turning. Confluence beckons."

The iron face stiffened, immediately losing whatever magic was animating it, and the entire front of the home settled back into its normal shape. The door opened, creaking into a dark entryway.

"Come in, then," said a sharp, higher-pitched voice. "Be quick!"

Inside, it was like a hoarder's dream. A plain wooden floor was covered in rugs of various sizes and colors, many of which were threadbare. Piled atop them were pedestals, side tables, and plinths by the dozen, crowding everything but a few narrow pathways. Atop them were glass jars and metal cages, filled with objects that gleamed with visible Mana vapor. The vapor flowed upward like clouds of incense, accentuating the dim Manalamps that lined the walls between even more objects in shadow boxes.

A wide staircase rose up in the back of the entryway, and it was much nicer and solid-looking than the one outside. Three arched door frames led into other equally cluttered rooms, looking far more like a thrift store museum than a home.

The doors slammed shut behind them, and an array activated just beneath the surface. It hummed at Felix, a faint chorus across his senses.

He locked us in.

"Welcome to my home." The man before them was short, only a bit over five feet tall, and was very clearly elderly. He was an Elf, judging by the shape of his ears, but his skin was creased and weathered, appearing older than any Elf Felix had ever met. He was still fit, though, looking slim in his green-gold robes. They were an older design, Felix guessed, and unlike any he'd seen elsewhere. Loose at the shoulders, but tapering in at the waist and down his slender hips to the floor. A darker green undershirt extended down his arms, looping across the backs of his hands, where bright blue embroidery depicted diving birds clutching thorned flowers.

"Vilas." Zara stepped forward, and the two of them embraced briefly. "How are you?"

"I've been better. Age is taking its toll on me."

"You look fantastic. I see you've ditched the walking stick.”

“Bah! The only people that fooled were the Apprentices and petitioners. Grandmasters aren't known for their infirmities."

Atar sucked in a tight breath. "I'm sorry. You're a Grandmaster?"

Vilas’ attention shifted to the three of them, but he didn’t answer. "Who are they, Zara? Fledgling Chanters? Your Apprentices?"

"They can speak for themselves."

"Atar," Alister chided.

"No, it's quite alright. I am being quite rude." Tern’s face split into a grin. "But so are you. Bringing Sorcerers into my home. Sorcerers and something extra." Atar stiffened.

do you think he means me? Flame whispered.

"So it speaks as well." The old Elf walked up to Atar, peering at him. "Fire attuned, but not of a type I've seen before. Must be your passenger. I've not seen an Urge so intertwined with a mortal in all my days. And to have two in one place. Remarkable."

"Two?" Atar asked.

two?

Tern's expression faltered, his eager gaze turning contemplative. He looked between Atar and Felix. "Am I wrong?"

Felix frowned. "Yeah. I don't have any sort of Urge inside me."

"Interesting." Tern looked absolutely delighted. "Then you are something new. Or perhaps very old. Hmm."

"Maybe it's just something I ate," Felix suggested with a smile. "Can we talk?"

"Aren't we speaking now?" The Elf leaned over, inspecting Alister now. "Another mage. Force mana attuned."

Alister brightened. "Why yes. How did you tell?"

"You've absorbed several units of the vapor in this room, but only the force Mana has been depleted. You have a passive Skill active." He flicked Alister in the chest. Felix clenched, but the Elf's finger pinged off of a faint blue shell that coated Alister's jacket. "Force ward."

Alister gaped. "How can you distinguish levels like that? Do you have an array running Mana Gauge?"

"Tricks of the trade, son. Live for enough centuries, and you'll learn so many you'll have to start inventing new ones." He whirled back to Zara. "You used our code. I assume your need is dire."

"Dire enough to bother an old man," she said with a sharp-toothed grin.

"Bah!" he walked away, through the archway, on the right side of the room. "Come, sit. Tell this old man your problems, Chanter Cyrene. And bring your students with you."

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