Published at 11th of December 2023 12:54 pm

Chapter Intermission: Calm after the storm

This chapter is updated by NovelFree.ml

Calm, and that was actually his full real name, looked through the casualty report again, ignoring the annoying crow singing behind his office's window. Almost 3 days ago the dead had risen all across Ebon Respite and he had been called to figure out what happened. Such a matter could not be taken lightly, however, because an heiress of a major branch was involved it would be too much of a risk to send someone the branches perceived as competent.

Politics were all about perception after all. Letting someone see what they expected was oftentimes far more efficient than hiding the truth. Case in point: The 'hidden' man reading over Calm's shoulder was genuinely convinced that the supposedly inferior mage would be absolutely unable to sense him.

Arrogance and conceit were such beautiful things. Thanks to them the branches actually believed that the succession struggles were a close affair. That the current Duke got his seat more thanks to luck than through ruthless schemes. And that suited the true House Blackburg, which Calm humbly considered himself part of despite the lack of any blood relation, just fine. If immediately after the succession struggles all the branch families, and there were a lot of them accumulating over centuries of unregulated polygamy, had united, they could have legitimately overthrown the ruling new Duke and Duchess. 3 decades later they were a shadow of what they once were. Goaded into mutual self-destruction by a deft hand they considered weak. Their collapse was only a matter of time.

He opened another dossier, one that detailed the accumulation of necrotic magic over the days before the sudden rising. Of course, he already knew the document by heart, severe soul surgeries in his early childhood had allowed him to develop perfect memory, among other things, however, it was better if the man who thought himself hidden did not begin to suspect that. It was not quite the time to uproot the pretenders to Pride. The document itself contained two graphs and a commentary. The first was the overall progress of the buildup along with the theoretical expected curve which it mostly followed; then at one point it suddenly spiked by over 300%, about an hour before the first sightings were reported. The second chart represented minute by minute detail of the spike, clearly showing that although unexpected, the increase was linear. That suggested the sudden increase was likely natural rather than caused by an actual necromancer. Though a natural source that could quadruple such buildup was in itself extremely worrying.

Realising that no, Calm was not stupid enough to read through secret documents when expecting a visit from a stealth specialist, the man behind him finally moved away, opened the door from the inside to pretend as if he was just coming in and then took a seat opposite of Calm, finally dismissing the magic and pretending as if he had just arrived.

“Good of you to finally show up,” Calm feigned annoyance as he looked up from his paperwork, leaving a quick note and a bookmark to really sell his performance.

“I have other things to do than answer your questions,” the man replied with the usual obnoxious dismissiveness.

“For hopefully obvious reasons I will record this,” Calm said and put a recording stone on the table before him; and a second one was already in the special compartment he had gotten installed for this exact purpose after certain experiences. The man before him was a shadow of House Blackburg; raised from childhood through a brutal regime refined over the centuries by the noble family to create properly indoctrinated agents of the highest caliber. A shame that half of them were completely insufferable towards Calm, despite their similar backgrounds; well, in all fairness, they did not know. And not being known was exactly what Calm had worked so hard towards.

“Serve yourself,” the shadow was dismissive, however, Calm felt him sharpen, becoming slightly more alert. It was not a shift in expression or a nervous tick; the man was too well trained for that. What he was not trained in was to fully conceal the fluctuations of his very soul. Why would he need that after all? Soulreading was such an obscure skill in the Duchy of Black and frankly, not usually very useful against elite assassins. The only hypothetical use was hiding from necromancers who could sense souls and those abilities were already restricted by the advanced soulwards any high-value agent would have prepared for such a mission despite the incredible cost.

“Just to reiterate, I am speaking with the shadow currently codenamed Oxen, please confirm.”

“Yes, that is me.”

“His Lordship the Duke...” Calm started, intentionally not mentioning the Duke by name because he knew the person across him had somehow got it in his head that Calm was not worthy of it. “...would like to hear from you the reason that young ladyship Alira von Blackburg, which had been under your care and guidance, had not fulfilled her duty of preventing undead from rising in Ebon Respite.”

“She had been injured,” the man replied curtly.

“Who could have done such a thing under your eyes?” Calm faked surprise, raising his eyebrow. Then he immediately corrected it, reinforcing the impression that he did not have perfect control over his expressions. Avys had spies everywhere so he had obviously heard at least a description of the sorry state the young 'heiress' was in; to Calm it seemed more like a curse than an attack but he was no expert in Void magic.

“They will be taken care of,” the shadow did not elaborate.

“That implies that such a person is still on the loose,” Calm immediately deduced. “This is not a simple matter. You have the obligation to report such dangerous individuals.”

“He is not a significant threat,” the shadow genuinely thought despite the half-dead state of his charge, no matter how incompetent that one in particular was. “And my obligations are to house Blackburg. Not to you.”

“I have the sigil to act with the Duke’s authority,” and he produced such from his pocket.

“Then I can confirm its validity and return to this conversation next week,” the man said, his petty scheme clear: He wanted to stall until he and his backers could cover up the situation. Even if they could not lie in an investigation afterward, it would be difficult to ask questions Calm didn’t know about or interrogate people he never suspected were involved.

“Fine, I will communicate to the Duke your unwillingness to cooperate,” Calm manufactured a frown and felt the man’s thinly veiled smugness. He considered the situation for a moment and decided that he needed to know. The situation was fresh and had possibly massive implications. It was worth the cost. He had prepared a contingency for this situation though using it was going to reveal a bit of his competence and put the opposition on guard. “One last thing then,” Calm sighed to make the shadow believe he was admitting defeat and tossed him the sigil to ‘validate’ at the same time he activated an enchanted stone imbued into a ring. It was actually relatively advanced for an accessory: A heavily encrypted speaking stone. One of those that could be re-calibrated to connect with different members of the same spell network. The person on the other side was prepared for the moment.

“You will not move or attempt to flee, shadow, in the name of House Blackburg,” the voice spoke. “Nor will you hide, attempt to prevent yourself from hearing further commands, or intentionally lie.”

“You…” the shadow snapped to attention with sudden surprise, so much so that a little even leaked into his facade. Then came anger, but smothered with just a bit of fear. Because this was a strategy designed specifically against people like him. To ensure loyalty from their most fearsome assassins, they were each bound by very strict oaths. Not the spoken kind, rather, the 4 pages of carefully reviewed text forged into a contract that used up the kind of binding materials the Duke had to approve personally kind. Among them, they were obviously strictly bound to obey house Blackburg and its heirs. It was a fetter that they were incapable of breaking even if willing to die. There, of course, had to be some distinctions and exceptions. It would, for one, be ridiculous if a relatively unimportant bottom heir barely clinging to the title could just order them to sabotage or kill those above him. So in order to completely restrain a shadow working for the branch families, all he needed was someone who technically outranked everyone who could be possibly involved in the wording of their oath. That being said, Calm could not just contact someone all the way in City Black. In the one second it would take to form the magic, the shadow would realise what was happening and escape before any commands could be imposed upon him. An oversight in the ancestral contracts that house Blackburg had not adjusted for generations, one Calm suspected to be intentional; because this sort of trick could work both ways.

Calm waited for a few more seconds before a young woman entered the room. Although she was already 17 Calm struggled to consider her attractive rather than just cute, despite the engineered beauty she possessed. Such things apparently happened towards children one knew from their birth. He allowed a smile to form on his face, for all of the people he pretended to she was one of the few he genuinely cared about, as far as he knew at least. Her features were much sharper but her long ebony hair was just like her mother’s when they were the same age.

“Young ladyship Elizabeth,” the shadow almost hissed, still so off balance he failed to control his emotions fully. But he could not escape from this trap. If he had been more on guard he might have noticed the familiar girl waiting in the lobby of the hotel next door to the administration. But the shadow did not check; why would he, in an area with no hostile threats to someone of his power.

“You will answer truthfully from now on,” she reiterated just in case and took the seat Calm offered her as he stood up. The Duchy of Black was still strict on hierarchy so on a semi-official occasion like this he stood half a step behind her. She would likely insist to make it up to him later with a tea party or whatever new trend she might have come to fancy since he last saw her. “Tell me, how exactly did Alira get injured?”

“I am not completely certain,” he tried.

“Then tell me what you believe,” but Elizabeth had been taught better than to fall for that trick.

“I believe she was struck down for breaking an oath,” he didn't grit his teeth while Elizabeth played the part of a stone-cold interrogator, but Calm could tell that the man wanted to.

“Did she not take precautions?” she pressed.

“I had personally ensured she was using a class 4 talisman. And it had worked completely fine before it suddenly broke,” a few more words than necessary, Calm noted. Probably pride over even the suggestion he had let her break oaths without sufficient protections.

“With whom and how did it happen?”

“Some nobody thief with a bit of magic,” the shadow said, completely emotionless in voice again while his mind was venomous, finding someone else to direct his anger at. “The talisman worked just fine. Class 3 would have already been overkill for someone like that, but I decided to go a bit higher because they had insisted on an oath directly to Umbra. When we had him captured, young ladyship Alira wanted to gloat and met him face to face. When he called her an oathbreaker the talisman inexplicably and suddenly broke.”

“And where is ‘he’ now?”

“Gone… He escaped.”

“Gone? How?” Elizabeth broke character out of sheer surprise. She was taught very well but still relatively young. Even Calm himself had felt severe disbelief.

“I left him unconscious in manabane chains when young ladyship Alira was injured and prioritized giving her medical attention. When I returned I found this,” he reached into the empty air as magic rippled. A secure storage in the Void itself, in a corner so far away from anything the odds of it ever being found by someone else were nill. The Void was vast beyond comprehension, even all the denizens of it occupied barely a fraction of a fraction. Then shadow withdrew a hunk of mangled metal. Chains, except their ends had been badly damaged. Melted, he realized.

“How much blood was left behind?” Calm asked. Shadow looked at him and kept his mouth shut.

“Answer,” Elizabeth commanded him.

“No blood. Or anything else.”

“How is this even possible?” Elizabeth questioned, unsure.

“Manabane chains work by draining any mana as it is drawn from the vessel, preventing spellcasting,” Calm explained. “This power needs to be expelled. A common design expels excess mana as heat and it would be, theoretically, possible to feed them enough mana to make the metal melt. However, that would also quite literally burn off the limbs of anyone held by those chains.”

“Yet there was no proof of injury left behind,” shadow nodded and Calm could tell he also wanted to know how this happened.

“It would be possible,” Elizabeth realised. “Mages who have attuned themselves excessively to an element can become increasingly resistant to the element and even its natural manifestation. However, the melting point of enchanted steel is not something a nameless mage should be able to withstand,” her eyes turned to the shadow who had introduced the mage as a ‘nobody’. To his merit, the shadow spent a moment thinking. Calm even felt the exact moment he came to a logical conclusion.

“It was an after-effect of the artifact,” he said with confidence. “He retained resistance to flames I did not detect because of the chains.”

“Artifact?” Elizabeth frowned because that word was not used lightly; and it was rather late into the conversation for it to come up now.

“The thief used some kind of consumable artifact to temporarily allow him to control Starfire at the level of early conceptualization.”

“Compared to?”

“I have observed him beforehand struggling to wield basic intention,” shadow replied. And Calm had to admit it was quite the leap in power. An entire stage, bypassed. But that wouldn’t distract him from the real issue in the sentence.

“So you are telling me there is a rogue mage who had achieved early imbuement,” Calm said. Such power was just on the boundary of what all shadows would be compelled to immediately report “That is a reason more to tell us everything about him. We cannot have someone capable of destroying smaller settlements overnight just wandering the city.”

“We are looking for him,” shadow said. “He was seen leaving Ebon Respite in the opposite direction of City Black. It is only a matter of time until he is hunted down,” and then they would make sure there was no witness to their own incompetence willing to share.

“You neglected to mention how they got their hands on an artifact,” Elizabeth returned to the subject.

“It was stolen from a vault in the city in a night raid.”

“And were you aware that they were planning to steal it?” Calm immediately latched on.

“Yes.”

“Then I know who to direct this complaint from Marquis Longstrider about an unidentified magical item of significant potency going missing along with the staff guarding it,” Calm raised the associated report from the pile on his desk. “Which coincides with the many reports of mage combat the night before the undead rose," He could almost see the timeline now. "Why did you allow young ladyship Alira to take an oath.”

“I was instructed by her father to not interfere unless she was in danger so that she may gain experience with real life,” shadow did not even struggle against that one. It was a relatively common practice across many noble houses in the entire Federation.

“And what plentiful experience,” Calm grumbled, reaching for another pile. “She wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious caster who had been accused of murdering several important figures in the underworld of Ebon Respite, very much including several which had been cooperating with house Blackburg for up to a decade, and had been believed by most interrogated thugs to be the main reason for the borderline uprising?”

“Young ladyship Alira had simply been looking for a trace of who had murdered Frederick von Blackmaw while he was in your company,” another attempt at diversion from the topic. Though Calm had to admit that had been a mess. He had to undergo several very invasive sessions of enhanced interrogation with a lot of witnesses to be clear of suspicion. Then the case had gone completely cold, until now at least. It was clear there was a new prime suspect.

“That was not the question,” Elizabeth remembered to not get distracted though, just as she had been taught.

“I believe she has slain some low-lifes.”

“Now correct me if I am wrong:” Calm started, a full picture forming in his head. “Young ladyship Alira was hiding through her magic, looking for other targets when this caster found, ambushed and subdued her, forcing her into an oath, I assume one to leave him alone, you decided not to interfere. Then you figured out that this person will be involved in the theft of an unknown relic not owned by her and rather than stopping them beforehand, young ladyship decided to let him have it and subdue him afterward. The time of the broken oath coincides perfectly with the spike in necrotic energies as measured from the capital. It is a known phenomenon that oathbreaking, as it institutes betrayal, may cause an increase in the Betrayer's magic. Therefore, it is logical to assume it was the broken oath which caused the spike, making the undead rise several days before our projections.”

“Is he correct?” Elizabeth, of course, had to ask to get an actual answer.

“Yes,” the shadow said though he did not comment on any potential missing details.

“Then the last thing we need to know is a description of the caster,” Calm nodded. If they could get to them first, who knew what advantage was there to be had. “You wouldn’t happen to have made a portrait already?” the shadow shook his head. “I thought as much. Well, I can send out basic descriptions, a rogue caster should not be too difficult to find if he visits any larger city. What does he look like?”

And the shadow answered. In needlessly excruciating detail, to the point, it was difficult to form a coherent image as the description kept jumping back and forth to be as confusing as possible. However, what captured his attention was that when it came to the age, the shadow had just said: “Not old.”

“Be exact about his age,” Elizabeth frowned, also noticing, and Calm suppressed his own. Because what reason would there be for the shadow to be evasive about that? Calm could even feel his unwillingness to speak before the man’s oaths forced him to.

“He did not appear much older than her young ladyship Alira,” he internally grit his teeth again. Calm did a double take, barely remembering to make his surprise register on his expression. Elizabeth had the opposite problem as her jaw dropped visibly. The wording again, Calm thought. Although Alira was long 16 she did appear a year or 2 younger. In other words, the mysterious caster could be as young as 16 too.

“Who knows about this?” Calm asked and the shadow looked at him, he felt that anger flare again underneath, even making the man's visage actually twist ever so slightly.

“Answer.”

“That would be only me and young ladyship Alira,” he said. “The accompanying mages have not even seen him properly.”

“Any contacts, allies?”

“I paid a visit to his gang not even an hour after he was caught but they were already long gone. Without a trace.”

“Which gang was that?”

“They had a tear sewn into their armbands,” and that obviously stirred Calm’s memory, along with the description. Of two young men he had decided to share a drink with. But they were not casters, Calm was confident. He had not felt a spec of magic from them; even though they were both strangely resistant to his soulreading and his magical suggestion had a surprisingly hard time taking hold on both he had judged that to be just strange natural disposition. But perhaps he had been wrong. To assume infallibility of oneself is inherently a fault, a principle he had learned to live by.

“I would request that this information does not spread,” he said, turning to Elizabeth.

“You will not report anything about this caster to anyone else nor anyhow suggest that anyone pursues him in relation to this situation or another reason, nor will you pursue them yourself,” she declared to the shadow. It would not last forever, commands wore down eventually if the oathbound struggled against them, which this shadow would, but it would give them the edge they needed. Because in the hierarchy of the contract, even the heads of the branch families did not outrank Elizabeth’s words.

“You may go now and remember what to not do,” she said and the shadow disappeared with one last glare. Calm felt him leave the building but not before the man took the recording gem. Calm had been using pairs ever since that had happened the first time rather than stopping them. Keep as much hidden as possible. Thanks to Elizabeth's last command the shadow would not be able to share it with anyone for a good while anyway.

“He is gone,” he sighed, allowing his feelings to surface. “Well done. Nothing for me to complain about.”

“He is going to struggle against it, right?” she also relaxed, becoming far more casual in private. “How long are my words going to last? And is it even worth it?”

“Talent is a strategic resource,” Calm smiled. “If the shadow is right, this mysterious caster might genuinely be your match in magic and talent. Not to mention I suspect I might have met them without realising they had mana.”

“They managed to hide even from you?” she raised an eyebrow, not hiding her expression. He had personally trained her in many aspects so she was well aware she could not do such a thing herself.

“Well…” he suddenly cut off. “Someone is coming,” there was a knock on the door a few seconds later before a young man’s voice sounded.

“Apologies, I was told to bring up tea,” the man was polite and truthful, though Calm did not recognize him based on the voice. That didn’t mean much considering he had always only stopped at Ebon Respite for at most a few days at a time.

“Come on in,” Elizabeth exclaimed when Calm gave her a nod in confirmation. The man, a handsome enough lad, brought a platter with two large mugs. To his credit, his expression did not change when he saw the supposed important official Calm had introduced himself as still standing behind a seated young woman. Calm liked tea, though he usually brewed it himself. He would later inquire who on the staff was perceptive and considerate enough to notice.

Naturally, he took both cups to his hands first. Poisoning was not common in the Federation but it was a needless risk to take with an experienced poisoneer like him nearby. He caught a whiff of the scent and quickly determined it was not any poison he knew, and he knew most. However, it was very vaguely familiar while he couldn't quite place the aroma. Exotic. He reinforced his senses and memory with a push of magic and then remembered where from. He had drank this tea in the past; exactly once.

He looked at the crow, still singing behind the window. He had ignored it, it was just a bird after all. Not a hint of magic on it. And birds could not spill secrets. Only, there was one distinct exception that came to mind.

His soulreading told him that the young server was completely neutral and professional. That he patiently waited to be dismissed without any significant emotions involved. But when he turned again he was greeted by a wide grin, stretching from ear to ear. Eyes that mocked him for his carelessness.

“Damn,” and the bird had heard everything that was just said. Calm allowed himself the biggest outburst of genuine emotion in the last decade and then calmed down again. He needed a cool head for what was to come.

“Damn indeed,” the old bastard sat down where the shadow had sat just earlier.

“What is happening?” Elizabeth asked, realising something was wrong.

“It just so happens that good young Calm is not as faultless as he would like to be,” the man bowed deeply in the chair, reaching for his face. Then as he rose, he tore off the mask, meticulously prepared to be truly lifelike without a smithereen of magic, and revealed his real expression. That of a withered old man.

“I apologise, I should have suspected something. This is, unfortunately, an old acquaintance. He is a very major figure of the Guild that governs the underworld all across our Duchy, as it has for over a century. I have closely worked with him during the succession wars where he had rendered vital services. However, in doing so he had managed to grasp multiple secrets too important to risk leaking. Thus this man had become too dangerous to kill and basically blackmailed house Blackburg into far better terms than the Guild deserved after your parents obtained their rightful position.”

“Terms which had been broken here,” the old man said with that reserved smile.

“You are well aware this was not within our control.”

“That does not stop me from demanding the rightful compensation. A lot of people have died.”

“You do not feel like magic,” Elizabeth interjected. She had been staring hard, trying to detect anything.

“Of course not. Magic is not the only path to power. Though I do have to admit that it would be foolish to follow the others in a place as rich in mana as your Duchy Federation,” he waved at the crow behind the window which waved back at him and then took flight. “Mine is in particular so obscure even where I come from few would know how to deal with me, so used to dealing with only other mages. People like me will never have a chance to claim a Name, but I did not have the talent for it anyway. And for all my deficiencies, I have managed to become the one man house Blackburg has come to somewhat fear.”

“You should not overestimate how much damage what you know could do,” Calm stared at him, not allowing irritation to take root.

“Yes, yes, I jest,” the old man waved his hand. “I know how much I can get away with. I still have maybe 40 years left in me and would rather not spend them running from elite assassins. Though I would like to congratulate young ladyship Elizabeth on reaching the imbuement stage as you mages call it, which I believe is at your age considered ‘unbelievable’. Unless something has changed in the last 16 years? I have largely secluded myself since the last Lich war.”

“I am not sure what you are talking about,” Elizabeth tried to feign obliviously though she was taken off balance.

“There is no point in denying,” Calm had to unfortunately admit. Elizabeth’s talent had been downplayed in the recent years so as to not alarm anyone before she was ready. The meteoric rise of her eldest brother had given the Branch families too big of a start and her potential was even greater. “Whatever strange power he nurtures, he can read souls far better than me. And hide his own from others. If you came here you want something, especially now that you have another secret we want to be kept. So what is it?”

“Oh, no need to get so nervous old friend. We actually want basically the same thing.”

“Do we?”

“Yes, of course. I want a personal ally within the main house Blackburg for when your position becomes so stable you decide that you can risk sending someone to silence me permanently. You want ever more weapons to use against the branch families in the preparation of when you inevitably wipe them out.”

“And how would those be the same thing?” Elizabeth asked. But Calm already understood.

“You know the boy,” Calm stated the obvious implication.

“His name is Irwyn. But know? That does not describe our relationship. I have first seen him a decade ago, walk out of a burning hellfire of a building, delirious from fumes but unburned; not even a reddening. I watched him manifest light out of nothing for the first time with the natural ease of a virtuoso. I have witnessed my last fateseeker shatter when I tried to measure his future. That’s why I fully committed to my little project in this small town. Raised him to be as competent as I possibly could. Because I saw in him my own future.”

“You are assuming that we will accept whatever you have to offer,” Calm tried to not let him completely control the situation but deep down understood that the man only acted when he knew and controlled all the cards.

“We both know how Avys thinks, Calm,” the old man just smiled. “I am offering her the keys to the heart of an impressionable young prodigy with the potential to one day claim a Name of his own. We both know she would be willing to pay twice as much as I will negotiate for out of respect.”

“Then what? You sell out someone who trusted you so that you can profit?” Elizabeth asked with obvious distaste.

“Sell out is the wrong word, it implies betrayal. He is almost certainly going to be overall far happier than he would have been if I had not taken him under my wings. And I am hardly sending him out to something unpleasant. In fact, I am negotiating for him an envious privilege.”

“Still, you just stay on the sidelines and profit off of your manipulations,” Elizabeth still felt wrong about the idea. Perhaps it struck too close to home, Calm thought. “If he truly becomes as powerful as you claim he can, it would make you untouchable.”

“Young ladyship, when two dragons fight to the death, do you know who always wins in the end?” he smiled again and Calm recalled those words. He had told him the same when they had first met. “It's the hidden Old Crow that gets to feast.”

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