Published at 3rd of September 2023 10:06 am

Chapter 32

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Miranda stepped slowly into the laboratory, hands folded meekly over her chest. She was slightly surprised to find Orion already there, finely chopping a bundle of herbs with a silvered knife. She always tried to be very early whenever he planned to meet her, knowing how much he valued punctually. It was better to be very early than risk annoying him by coming a few moments after the appointed time.

He looked over when she quietly closed the door behind her, nodding a silent greeting before turning back to his work. He deftly weighed and added a few pinches of purplish moss to each of the eight bubbling vials he was working on, making the liquids inside bubble and spit. He nodded slowly, jotted something down in his ever present notebook, and returned to his chopping.

Miranda silently made her way over to one of the chairs in the corner, trying not to look at the clearly pre prepared examination table standing on the other side of the room. She took a deep breath and began to organize her things, neatly laying out the folders and other notes she’d brought with her on the small table. She spent several minutes fidgeting with the papers, carefully adjusting them until each stack was perfectly straight and equidistant from the others.

Every few moments, she glanced back over at Orion, but he seemed content to ignore her for now, focused as he was on his brewing. She was slightly surprised to see Orion making potions of all things, she’d taken Introductory Brewing alongside him but hadn’t gotten the impression that he was interested in the practice. He’d been decent at it, as he seemed to be at most things, but hadn’t had the same spark that he exhibited in some of the other classes they’d shared.

A few minutes later, just before the time he had ordered her to be here at, he turned off the alchemical burner and carefully transferred the vials into a cooling rack. Without turning to look at her he called out, “Give me a few more minutes Miranda, just want to get cleaned up.”

“Of course sir.” She bit her lip and watched silently as he stowed away his remaining ingredients and used a spell to scour the work surface and his hands. At the same time, he used some form of telekinetic magic to put away the other equipment, opening cabinets and floating delicate instruments into their places without looking.

She wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose, but it was a stark reminder of the difference between the two of them. She knew for a fact she couldn’t match that little show of skill, and likely wouldn’t be able to any time in the near future. Maybe if she learned some specialized spells for it, but she had a strong feeling this was simply pure mana manipulation at work. Even if her own skill with it increased dramatically, she had no idea how he was doing it without looking.

She looked away again, nervously fidgeting with the hem of her dress. It felt odd wearing something so relatively modest, the skirt reached down all the way to her knees and the opaque red fabric covered her almost completely from the neck down. Still, after their decidedly odd meeting on Friday, she’d wanted to see how, if, he would react to something like that.

She still wasn’t sure what to think of that entire experience. His simple command to ‘come along’ had nearly caused her to freeze up, her body moving while her mind silently panicked. The ensuing conversation had been like riding a wild griffin, leaving her almost unable to understand what he was staying.

She still somewhat regretted leaving the way she had; if she had played her cards right, then maybe… No, it had been the right choice. Who knew what he would have said or done or made her do if she had stayed there any longer. She had to keep telling herself that.

Eventually, he stowed the rapidly cooled vials in a padded case and turned to look at her. He looked… stressed, it was immediately obvious from the set of his shoulders and the tightness in his jaw. It had been a while since she’d seen him like this, and like all unfamiliar things, it scared her. She was slightly reassured by his words the week before, but then again, he’d never said he wouldn’t do it again. Simply that it hadn’t been meant as a punishment. He’d never said he wasn’t going to do worse.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. You were earlier than I expected.” Another jolt of fear, she hated it –‘Sorry about this. It’s nothing personal.’ Her throat tore as she screamed and screamed and screamed into her gag. The cold steel slid effortlessly through warm flesh, removing another layer of skin– when he apologized.

He sat down across from her, raising an eyebrow at the meticulously arranged documents. “This looks very nice. I hope the material itself is as thorough as the presentation?”

“Yes sir, I think so.”

He didn’t respond, simply leaning back in his chair and gesturing at the papers.”

“Of course. Sorry sir.”

She cleared her throat and sat up straighter in her seat. She needed to show him she could still be useful for something like this, for something otherthan her flesh and organs. She took a deep breath, then began her report. “As you requested last week, I’ve compiled a report on all three of the students. I have their class schedules, daily routines, with what people and where they spend their time, and other details I felt could be important.”

She gestured to the three folders in question, each labeled with the girl’s name. “Beyond that, I’ve also found what I could about their families and other connections. None of them have particularly close ties to any major powers, but I suspect that Verdan may be a distant relative of Eldest Ice-On-Blue-Leaves. Still, I don’t get the sense that they are particularly close, likely a several-times great-granddaughter.”

Orion nodded slowly, but made no move to interrupt her, so she continued, “Cayla is similarly a distant relative of the main family. She is the fourth daughter of one Clarion Spellblade’s son. From what I understand, he is the one paying for her to attend, but she has never actually met her benefactor. Even if they are close, Clarion is not a graduate, nor particularly well connected, so he should have no direct reach inside the academy. He received the Spellblade name a few decades ago after a successful kraken hunt where he distinguished himself.”

She looked up, hoping to see some sign of approval or annoyance in Orion’s face, but he simply continued to sit blank-faced as he listened to her presentation. She took a deep breath and pointed to one of the notebooks. “Briella is the best connected of the group, but that's not saying much. She’s the second child of Lord Ongallo, but she has both an older and younger brother who will likely inherit the family name before her. Even the cousin I mentioned last week is more likely to inherit than she is, the Ongallos are traditionally a very patriarchal house.

Still, she clearly has access to a not inconsiderable amount of resources. She spends a lot of time on alchemy, particularly on potions meant for body modification. That sort of thing is very expensive to experiment with, but she doesn’t have any problems paying for it.”

She paused for a moment, digging out a specific page from Briella’s folder. “If you want to do something to her soon, there is actually a very convenient moment for it coming up. She’s gotten permission to miss two weeks of classes starting next Friday for an unspecified experiment in one of the isolation rooms. If you can catch her just before she goes in, no one will know anything is wrong for a while. Cayla is also coming with her, though I’m not sure if Verdan is as well. The elf is much more secretive, so I’ve had some difficulties looking into her.”

“That’s… very nice to know. You’ve done well Miranda.” She almost gasped in relief at those words, quietly letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. He leaned over to grab one of the folders, quickly flipping through the neatly organized schedules, notes, and pages of observations and hypotheses. “Yes, this looks very good.”

She sat silently as he went through each pile page by page, only moving to answer an occasional question. Her eyes were glued to his face, watching for any tiny hint of irritation or joy. His vocal approval of her work was all well and good, but the padded table she could just barely make out in the corner of her eye loomed over her thoughts like a specter.

Eventually, he set the last notebook down on top of the stack of papers that had formed between them and leaned forward to look at her, resting his chin on his folded hands. “This is exactly what I was looking for. You’ve done a great job.” Despite herself, she smiled slightly in satisfaction, even as her nails bit into her palms. There was a ‘but’ coming, she just knew it.

“Still, I’m not quite done with you yet.” Of course, there it was. Memories from the previous week flashed through her mind, writhing against tightly fitted manacles as he loomed over her. “I just have a few things I want to try, nothing nearly as invasive as last week. I don’t even think the restraints will be necessary today, I don’t expect any writhing around.”

Oh. That didn’t sound too bad. He reached out to the side, summoning a single vial filled with a nearly transparent pink liquid from his bag. He pushed his seat away from the table and beckoned her over. “Come here.” She did not resist as he carefully positioned her body, pushing her down onto the floor with her head between his knees. It was a somewhat intimate position, but the cold, clinical look in his eyes crushed any shreds of arousal she might have felt.

He handed her the vial, then carefully positioned his hands. One went towards her face, thumb on her forehead and palm resting on top of her head. The other rested lightly over her heart, one of his feet pressing roughly against her back until she thrust her chest out.

“Drink.”

She gave the potion a nervous look, remembering the many lessons she’d had about not imbibing unknown alchemical creations. The potion gleamed slightly under the harsh white light that lit the workroom, almost glowing as it sloshed around in the clear container. Orion shifted forward slightly and she hastily removed the stopper, the liquid inside sloshing in her shaking hand.

The alchemical treated cork came out easily and she slowly raised the small vial to her mouth. Her first whiff of the liquid nearly made her drop the vial, knees buckling as a wave of pain and arousal washed through her body. She suddenly had a good idea what was in the vial. It was that same thing Orion had poured down her throat during their meeting the week before.

She took a deep breath and then threw it back like a shot. It burned against the inside of her mouth and throat, a feverish heat of distilled pleasure intense enough that it hurt. Her entire body shuddered again and she would have collapsed if not for Orion’s hands and knees holding her upright.

She tried to control the sudden torrent of energy that flooded into her body, but it was just too much. It wasn’t the same as it had been the last time. It was still the same power and feeling but so much more intense. She tried to direct the energy the way she’d learned growing up, pushing it towards her soul and body in an effort to burn off excess energy. It worked, but it was simply too slow, barely making a dent in the veritable ocean roiling under the surface of her skin.

She was cold and hot, tired and bursting with energy, her nerves screamed in pain and pleasure all at once. She felt Orion’s mana reaching through her skin, probing at her insides and only adding to the burning heat that seemed ready to cook her from the insides. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she blacked out. The last thing she heard was Orion’s quiet mumbling. “Perhaps I increased the concentration too much this time…”

Kol Niran Kan, Third Magelord of Port Anangala frowned as he took in the destruction. He floated silently in the air, weightless body swaying slightly in the stiff breeze blowing off the ocean. Far below, he could see relief and salvaging efforts proceeding as expected, hundreds of ant-sized specs moving in a controlled chaos across the flooded docks.

The damage was better than he’d feared, but much worse than he’d hoped. Casualties had been surprisingly minimal, but the Port’s infrastructure had been dealt a terrible blow. All but one set of docks had been swept away by the roiling waves and most of the cranes and other unloading equipment had been similarly destroyed.

Of the homes and businesses that had lined the bustling coastline, only a handful remained. Thankfully, the records center had survived the attack mostly intact, the powerful wards protecting the building shielding it and the crucial papers it contained from the crashing waters. Still, it was a small mercy.

He smiled ruefully. Small mercy indeed. He’d been inside the building when the attack began, and had only caught the tail end of the battle. Several of his colleagues had not been so lucky. The seventh and eleventh Magelords had both been caught off guard by the first attack as they dined. The Seventh had survived, but had been seriously injured by flying debris. The Eleventh had taken a bread-knife to the eye, killing her instantly.

She would need to be replaced in the coming days, along with the Fifth, Sixth, and Ninth, who had perished driving the dragon away. It was a terrible blow to the city, even worse in many ways than the estimated two-hundred-thousand civilian casualties. Civilians could be replaced, a few years of lifted fertility limits would rapidly grow the population back up. It took much longer to replace trained, loyal archmages.

They would need to make a show of power soon, lest other city states try to take advantage of the weakened city. It would be a stressful few decades, but as long as no other disasters struck, they would recover.

He turned slowly, looking at the distant square where the Avalon portal had stood until just a few hours earlier. He had mixed feelings about their sudden departure, nearly two weeks ahead of the scheduled date. On one hand, it was one less thing to worry about. It freed up the dozens of mages and government workers who kept the portal under constant observation and the added manpower was sorely needed.

On the other hand, it was another sign of weakness that Anangala’s neighbors would certainly take note of. Hosting the Academy’s portal was a prestigious position that had brought millions of pieces in trade into the city. Between travelers coming to meet with members of Avalon, the unique magical reagents that Avalon produced and sold, and the individual dealings that students and alumni engaged in, the city had profited greatly over the last few weeks.

Still, he couldn’t say he was too sad to see the portal go. He’d noticed its mages using the chaos as an opportunity too loot, even if they had stayed within the bounds of what was reasonable. He burned at letting them steal his people and whatever random treasures they had stumbled across. He almost wished they had gone too far, taken someone important enough that he could kick up a fuss, but they knew better than that.

He had also noticed the stark lack of assistance from the Academy’s mages. Had just a handful of Avalonian archmages come to the city’s defense, they could have saved tens of thousands of lives. Instead, those that had been in the city retreated back to the portal at speed and not a single member had tried to engage the dragon.

He knew it wasn’t something that was required of them by the contract they had signed with the city, but it would have been nice. Nice. Hah. Avalon’s mages were certainly not nice. He’d spoken with several over the last few months and that had been a very simple conclusion to come to. Whatever else the rumors said, one thing was for certain. Whatever they did in that ‘school’, it did not make for nice graduates.

With a tired sigh, he began to drift downwards towards the shoreline, his short rest over. As he went, he began to weave a new spell, preparing to reinforce another section of the cliff face. He could think about the greater consequences of this later. For now, he had a city to save, lest everything be consumed by the hungry sea far before their neighbors had a chance to strike.

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