***
Hanseln,
The Valley Guard captain had mixed opinions about what they were currently doing. The grim determination in him was battling with apprehension.
He, like many people in the Valley Guard, was furious about the recent fires. A lot of good equipment was just gone. Supplies for long-distance patrols, including herbal medicines against colds and fevers, spare saddles, heavy clothing, sleeping mats… You name it, the men had fewer of it.
The worst off, however, were weapons and armour. Two entire armories worth - was the vast majority of the newer equipment the Valley Guard had access to.
Steel wouldn't melt in a normal fire. But if the fire was fierce enough, it could certainly lose its edge and hardness, blister and dull. And each of those recent fires was intense. It wasn't the usual matter of a building burning up before the roof collapsed and mostly smothered the flames; no, those were infernos powerful enough to reduce the entire structure to embers and cinder.
Which is why when the fires were finally extinguished, damaged weapons were expected, but that's not what ended up being found in the ruins.
The majority of the armour and weapons in those fires melted to slag. That, at best, could be sold back to the blacksmiths for copper coins.
This raised eyebrows and was the reason the Guard pestered the Bürgermeister for an investigation. Because this just doesn't happen with honest steel in fires, clearly, something was amiss.
It didn't take long for the Ahnungslos to provide, much to everyone's regret.
The investigation, apparently, was insistent on the cause: each separate armoury and storehouse had burned down due to alchemical fires prompted by improper, outdated storage methods.
Ridiculous, one may think. Surely, another attempt by the Bürgermeister to wipe his feet on the Guard, this time by ignoring a clear malicious action against them…
That was the sentiment at first.
But officers in the Guard did some digging to try to present their displeasure properly.
To everyone's complete bewilderment and growing dread, the Bürgermeister's team seemed to… have a point.
It turned out that yes, alchemical supplies were stored improperly next to the weapons, precisely because the weapons were deemed non-flammable enough for it to be safe. Regulations had come out in the last twenty years that required normal storehouses to stop this practice and dedicate separate storage buildings for any volatile substances, but the Valley Guard, being an entity above the laws placed upon the guilds, had ignored these regulations. Not even out of malice, but because the regulations didn't apply to the Valley Guard, so whoever was responsible for stocking up armories and storehouses two decades ago just ignored how the guilds switched their practices and moved on, never thinking twice about the matter.
But even granting the improper storage…
There shouldn't have been any supplies that could have caused fires hot enough to melt steel. Logically, at least.
The Valley Guard wasn't the alchemical guild; they weren't storing liquid darkfire potions or anything equally dangerous. At best, medicine, potions the smell of which repelled wild beasts, some very mild quick-fire starters, and liquids that would warm up to the touch in the bottle when shaken, for long stakeouts in the mountains. Potions of this sort, which you can buy in most villages when visiting a herbalist.
Or at least that's what Hanseln expected. He couldn't check the ledgers and storage records, as, for some asinine reason, those were stored in the storehouses and armories themselves. Meaning those precise ledgers were currently ash, and no one had any idea what, in truth, was being stockpiled in those storages for decades.
It was a moment of quiet horror when Hanseln realized how terrible the Valley Guard's bookkeeping was regarding their storehouses, and that he, a captain, genuinely had no idea what had been stored in those armories or in what amounts, and had no way to find out now.
In the end, the Bürgermeister approached Commander Stolz in private. Told him the mess was, for all intents and purposes, his fault. Told him the only reason he wasn't being investigated was that no one had died, and because of his prior exemplary service. Told him to let this matter die, because if he kept trying to attract attention to the event, Ahnungslos would have to act on the information he did have to avoid public outrage.
And it's Stolz's head that will have to roll first to appease people, because even if other factors were involved, Stolz clearly was at fault in large part too for allowing the quartermeisters to store things the way they did.
So Stolz let it go.
There was a reason the Golemwarrior tournament was pushed a few days earlier.
The Bürgermeister desperately needed the spectacle to distract the public and sweep the whole affair under the rug before he had to give the matter more thought. As Ahnungslos was one of the main sponsors of the event, it wasn't hard for him to arrange it to happen a bit sooner.
It was impossible to even blame the Bürgermeister for once, as far as everyone could tell, he was doing the Guard a favour this time. And while the man was hated in the Guard for consistently cutting into their budget, Stolz was well-liked enough that most appreciated the Bürgermeister actually doing something for him.
Hanseln had his gripes with his Commander, but for the most part, the old man did his duties well. Hanseln learned a lot from him and his conduct. It didn't sit right that Stolz accepted the untold losses of the supplies that patrols and mountain outposts needed, just because the Bürgermeister had him by the balls... But Hanseln understood the position.
Open defiance and attempt to push the issue would have cost Stolz his command, and a new Commander installed by the Bürgermeister would be far worse for everyone, considering all the other issues the Valley Guard currently had.
The coincidence still stank, though. A few important armories and storehouses are going up within weeks of each other. It could have been negligence. It could have been enemy action.
Without proper records, there was no way to tell what went up in flames and how. The people who worked in the storehouse didn't exactly memorize the ledgers. Some of the workers swore nothing flammable was ever stored in some of the burned-down buildings; others swore the opposite.
Not to mention that one sighting of some figure supposedly setting fire. It was a mess of ridiculous proportions.
The Valley Guard had three captains under the Commander. Hanseln oversaw the patrol division, responsible for roads and outposts. Fährte, Berg's cousin, oversaw the huntsmen, the folk who trimmed the monster population and watched the high passes. And Glimpflich commanded the city guard.
Fährte shared Hanseln's suspicions but had a more immediate problem. His hunters needed equipment as it was his busy season, and he had turned to Berg and the dwarven clans for help with that. Finding out who or what was responsible was secondary to making sure his men had what they needed to do their work, and the hunters always required rather expensive toys compared to everyone else, simply because they had to operate in the most remote and troublesome areas, and ate through potions and magical supplies like entire squads of patrolmen.
Hanseln couldn't blame the man for waving all of this away and focusing on solving the issue.
Glimpflich was a different matter entirely. The man ate from the Bürgermeister's hand. Hanseln had enough dealings with him to know that this fellow captain of his was a careerist to the bone. He would never investigate this because he knows that if the Commander knew that he did, it wouldn't end well for him.
Which left Hanseln.
He had loyal men whom he trusted to keep quiet, but none suited for this sort of work.
In his company, most men and women were either adept cavalrymen or had the patience and temperament to stake out in remote watchtowers and outposts, usually both. What Hanseln didn't have were people adept at investigative work and magic.
Berg, when Hanseln brought the situation to him, agreed that the whole affair stank and suggested someone Hanseln hadn't considered: Albert.
In hindsight, it was obvious. The man had better insight into monsters, magic, and strange phenomena than anyone in the region. Throughout the last few years, Hanseln had approached him privately more than a few times for help with various problems and was never refused.
But Albert spent most of his days buried in paperwork and teaching, and somehow that had pushed him off the list of people Hanseln thought of.
Berg's suggestion was more of a reminder, really. The elf somehow tended to be the last person you would think of.
No wonder he was called The Hermit back in the day.
The sun sat low behind the western peaks, casting the guard district in long, deep shadows that swallowed the streets whole. What little light remained was a dull orange band along the ridgeline, and it was fading fast.
The ruins of the second armoury looked worse in this light than they did during the day. The two walls that still stood were black against the darkening sky, and the debris between them was a shapeless mass of ash and twisted metal. It smelled the same as it did weeks ago. Odd, unnatural smells that you would find in alchemical shops or around tanneries.
The district was quiet. Quieter than it had any right to be, even at this hour. From somewhere far across the city, carried on the wind in fragments, Hanseln could hear the distant rumble of a crowd, punctuated occasionally by something that might have been a cheer or might have been an… explosion perhaps?
Hanseln couldn't tell at this distance, but it was hard to believe an event like this was permitted to be conducted in the city limits.
The opening ceremony of the tournament had drawn half of Sturmkamm to the venue, city guards included, and the streets around here had been empty since late afternoon.
Waiting for the tournament was Berg's idea.
They had already inspected the armoury positioned outside the populated areas days ago, but had to wait for today to check the more public sites. Hanseln simply had no authority to access the burned-out sites without attracting the wrong sort of attention.
Which is why using the opportunity where the least number of people would be nearby will have to do.
Albert moved through the ruins in the twilight. The elf was little more than a silhouette against the darkening stone, crouching here, pausing there, occasionally pressing a hand flat against a surface.
He probably used spells of some sort, Hanseln was sure. He knew hunters had spells to track the mana of monsters and residual energy; he was certain a mage like Albert, who by his own admission specialized in hunting monsters, had plenty of similar tricks.
Hanseln leaned against the wall of the building across the street, where the shadow was deepest, and kept his eyes on the road.
He had meddled with the guard schedule and reassigned anyone who would normally watch the ruins tonight to the main venue.
He could only do so because for festivals of this sort, Glimpflich usually didn't have the men to keep peace, and had to request Hanseln's men for help. This allowed Hanseln to meddle in rotations and schedules somewhat.
And so Hanseln still stood, keeping watch like a petty criminal.
In other circumstances, it would have been amusing to him. As it was, he just felt that the situation was absurd. After getting his promotion to captain, he never expected to do this sort of thing.
Hanseln kept watch even as he mentally dwelled on the situation when he noticed something off, tensing.
Footsteps. They were light and quick, coming from the direction of the market district. Hanseln's hand found his sword hilt before the rest of him caught up. He squeezed the handle before letting it go.
A young woman rounded the corner. She was bundled in winter traveling clothes, her greenish hair catching what little light the sky still offered. She was scanning the street, deliberate rather than rushed; she was searching for something.
Her gaze swept past the shadowy corner where Hanseln rested, fixed on the ruins for a bit too long.
She couldn't see Albert, he realized immediately, and started to act to distract her.
"If you will excuse me," he spoke up, stepping away from the wall and addressing the woman who turned around and looked at him without much wariness. Which, by itself, was unusual. He addressed her from behind, in the dark and out of nowhere, but she didn't even seem startled. Maybe she knew he was there? "You shouldn't be here, lady. The main festivities would be where you came from."
Hanseln felt awkward trying to make his voice sound more coarse and unfriendly, but needs must.
He couldn't just introduce himself on the off-chance the woman would decide to share what happened here, even if he could recognize a foreigner in her. The make of her well-made traveling clothing gave this much away. He was quite certain she wouldn't recognize his face, and Hanseln wasn't stupid enough to come to a task like this wearing his uniform.
Yet this also meant he couldn't exactly order her to leave with the authority of a guard.
"I am searching for the Headmaster of the Academy," the woman said instead, glancing around, and, to Hanseln's luck, she was likely unable to spot Albert in the dark of the burned-out ruins nearby, "He is an elf, blond, I am sure you are aware who I am talking about." She looked at Hanseln, her eyes fearless and quite piercing, "Have you seen him?"
Now, at this point, Hanseln felt rather pressured.
He mostly asked himself how in the demon king's name would a random mage search for Albert here of all places. And the woman could be nothing but a mage; who else would be so unafraid of a stranger in the dark, knowing where he was without looking, and searching for the DAMN headmaster with such confidence?
Still, the plan stayed the same. He needed to make the woman go away as soon as possible, using any pretenses.
"I've seen him," he said, nodding, before pointing to the alleyway on the left, "He went that way, though I can hardly tell what business he would have in these parts."
The woman studied Hanseln, her expression growing displeased.
"I would appreciate not being lied to so blatantly," the woman said, her voice annoyed, as she folded her hands under her chest, "I am a mental mage, you see. To be frank, I am already very annoyed with the headmaster. Please don't test my patience further and simply point me his way."
Had Hanseln never dealt with some of the more powerful adventurers, the subtle threat would have only been amusing from a pretty girl half a head shorter than him and unarmed to boot.
But as it is, he knew she was serious, and it was an uncomfortable position. On duty, anyone trying to threaten him like this will find themselves in a cell. But he was off-duty. Moreover, he couldn't afford to be recognized.
So he swallowed the retort and instead focused on the matter at hand.
"Lady, your business with the Hermit is your own," he said carefully, glancing aside. He remembered Albert's words about monsters who mess with the mind needing some sort of a lever to establish a connection, for you to inhale the scent, eye contact, things of such sort. "Please just move along, your presence isn't appreciated right here and right now." He paused, "I am sure the headmaster would be happy to see you in the Academy tomorrow."
The woman just scoffed.
"Not appreciated by whom, you alone? I don't sense anyone else nearby," as she said this, Albert rounded the corner behind her back, glancing around the ruins, before once again rounding the remaining blackened wall. Hanseln, seeing this, felt sweat on his brows, "I would have you know that my mana senses are quite refined; aside from you, there is no one outside their homes for quite some distance around!"
Hanseln barely kept his face straight, hearing her certainty, and instead focused on her point.
"I can tell you are clearly hiding something, and I can sense the enchantments on whatever it is you have beneath your coat," she said, pointing a finger at him. "You are clearly not some random bandit! And you clearly know the headmaster, or know where he is. I can tell that much. So please cooperate," she requested, heatedly, stepping closer and poking him in the chest with her finger, "I don't know why that horrible man has been avoiding me, but I've been chasing him for three days! I came to the academy - he is in Sturmkamm, so I go there, but once I arrive, he goes to the Academy again, so I travel after him, only for him to be gone again by the time I arrive, so I decide to wait!" she explains, heatedly, faster and faster, until she takes a break to inhale, "And wait… for a day! And then I go to the Academy, and he is gone! Again!" Hanseln was relatively sure the mage was a step away from crying, either that, or maybe casting some hex. "I can tell you know where he is! Tell me, I need to know!"
For a moment, Hanseln genuinely felt bad. He glanced aside.
The last few days? That would be Albert going to the other sites with him and traveling to help organize the tournament. He was at least partially responsible for his sporadic movements.
"Well, I wouldn't know where he is," he said, awkwardly, "So you should just move along, lady."
He risked glancing down at the face of the cute woman beneath him, who approached so close, looking from below right at him, and seemed about ready to explode. She was pouting, but didn't seem conscious of it, and instead had her fists clenched as she glared up.
"I am serious," Hanseln tried, "Listen, if I knew where The Hermit was, why wouldn't I just tell you…?"
Hanseln's attempts to defend himself were cut short when he looked past the mage; he noticed a figure stepping under the lanterns behind her.
It was a moment of pure dread. He wasn't looking for just a second, taken aback by the woman's pushy attitude; apparently, it was enough for Albert to approach, making almost no sound.
"Hanseln, I am done," the man said blandly, glancing somewhere down the street, and looking almost lost. "I may have something, so let us go."
Words failed the Guard Captain for a few agonizingly long moments.
Before he could even attempt to react, the mage girl turned around, beholding Albert in all his glory.
The elf was currently dressed in a well-made, yet rather basic traveling cloak that concealed the majority of his clothing, as he studied something between his fingers fruitlessly, before giving up and gesturing with his other hand.
A small flame ignited on the tip of his finger, as he studied a small… scale? Completely ignoring both the girl and Hanseln himself.
A single ring with a ruby glimmered on his right hand held the flame.
Neugieri didn't move for a few seconds. She just stood there, her back to Hanseln, her fists still clenched at her sides.
Then she whipped back towards Hanseln, and the look on her face was exactly as terrible as he expected. Not that she actually looked intimidating, it was more that her pout and general promise of retribution in her expression shamed him greatly.
Hanseln had to look away, for he was afraid he would try to console the lady. And maybe pinch her cheeks.
The woman turned back towards Albert, who was still turning the scale between his fingers in the light of the small flame hovering above his other hand. He hadn't looked up.
"You," she said.
Albert's eyes moved from the scale to the woman standing before him. He studied her for a moment with the same detached attention he seemed to give everything, then glanced past her at Hanseln, as if expecting an explanation.
Hanseln had none to offer; he was currently hoping the earth would rise and swallow him whole, from both direct and second-hand embarrassment.
"You are Albert," Neugieri stated, her voice wavering between composure and something far less controlled. "The Headmaster of the Dornpass Academy. You also go by 'A' in your correspondence."
The flame on Albert's fingertip went out.
The scale disappeared into his cloak. His full attention was on the woman now, and the shift was immediate and quiet.
It would be hard to tell for anyone who didn't interact with Albert often enough, but the way he was suddenly looking at you, as if into your soul, instead of past you, was the usual tell.
"Who are you?" he asked simply.
The question, delivered with no hostility, no curiosity worth noting, and certainly no recognition, seemed to take some of the wind out of the woman's sails.
She straightened her back, visibly composing herself, though her cheeks were still flushed. Hanseln also unconsciously noted that she reminded him of a bullfinch bird puffing her chest out.
"My name is Neugieri," she said, lifting her chin, "I am the apprentice of the Great Mage Serie, of the City of Magic, Äußerst." She was clearly expecting a reaction.
Silence settled over the street.
Hanseln, who knew nothing about any of this, glanced between the two mages. Albert's expression hadn't changed, but he glanced aside for a moment.
"Serie's apprentice," he repeated, his tone flat.
Most people would fail to interpret what he meant by this at all, as the man's expression and tone lacked any clue, but Hanseln knew he was merely repeating what was said to buy himself time to think more. He saw it when the man gave his lectures, sometimes.
Neugieri nodded firmly.
"That's right! This would make you and me fellow apprentices," she added, and there was a note of accusation in the word that Hanseln suspected carried a lot of context he wasn't privy to. "I've been looking for you. For quite some time now, actually. For the last three days in particular."
She shot a glance back at Hanseln that could have curdled milk.
Albert looked at Hanseln, too.
"She showed up here searching for you out of nowhere, and I can't have someone else just interrupt," Hanseln said, because he had to say something, before shaking his head, "If you know her, let us go, we shouldn't be talking about this here, of all places!"
The elf considered this, nodded once, and turned back to Neugieri.
"For the record, I wasn't avoiding you," he said. "I didn't know you existed."
The honesty of it was so blunt, so entirely without cushioning, that Neugieri's mouth opened and closed without producing sound. Her face went through several expressions in rapid succession before settling on something that was either deep offense or resigned acceptance; Hanseln genuinely couldn't tell.
"Of course you didn't," she muttered, more to herself than to either of them.
"We clearly have some things to talk about," Albert offered, "But not now, and not here. Let's return to Berg."
Hanseln gave the elf a long, annoyed look for disclosing another important name.
Somehow, Albert caught that and even interpreted him correctly.
"She is who she says she is, and therefore, trustworthy," he said simply, with complete surety.
Hanseln just sighed, but nodded.
"Back to the tavern we go, then."
***
Albert,
Berg's tavern wasn't as busy as it usually was, but that wasn't surprising.
The whole tournament idea that I originally allowed simply to let the students practice their designs and develop better had evolved into a commercial venture, and as such was completely beyond my control.
It also sold a lot of tickets this year, so the people who would normally sit here drinking were probably there now. Well, most of them, in any case.
Berg wasn't present in the tavern, because at least one of us needed to attend the tournament to keep up appearances. Berg and Hanseln weren't sure if the Bürgermeister kept tabs on us, but wanted to be safe rather than sorry.
I strongly suspected that their attempts at maneuvering around and being 'stealthy' were pretty amateurish, but I couldn't exactly correct them on their behavior. Social things were difficult for the current me; it didn't come naturally and required a lot of deliberation, so I simply left most of the planning on that front to my co-conspirators.
Until Berg was here, there was no point in bringing up what I found.
And so, sitting here in the VIP booth…
"So the ears…?" Neugieri asked curiously.
"My ears were always this way," I offered honestly, briefly touching my pointy ears. They were indeed pointy, but not anywhere near the long monstrosities elves had according to the murals of the goddess… and the depictions in the manga, "Hard to say why." Quite literally hard, as it would threaten my life, the reason in truth was that I wasn't an elf at all.
The mental mage seemed to struggle with asking more about the subject, but thought better.
She was more sensitive than most. I had some scholars directly ask me if I am somehow a half-elf. To which I had to remind them that, as far as everyone knows, no race could crossbreed. Unions of dwarves and men produced nothing, and there were no reputable records of a child conceived between an elf and a human.
Most simply assumed that some elves might have had ears like mine, much like how humans varied in skin tone. I didn't correct them.
"...she really didn't mention me? Not even once?" the girl asked, half lying on the table, sounding miserable.
Hanseln sat on her side of the table and clearly felt a bit unsure how to act.
"'S' and I rarely share personal correspondence," I explained simply, "If she truly allowed you to read the letters, you must know that much."
Neugieri, the supposed mental mage, sighed heavily, shaking her head.
"You were keeping up writing to each other for over a century! I can't possibly know all you ever talked about, and the master could be surprisingly bashful about that stuff!" she grumbled. "Besides, she doesn't allow me to read her replies, and doesn't let me see some of the sections you write."
I somehow doubted Serie, the thousand-year-old elf, could be bashful. Yet, I decided not to waste air bringing it up.
"Until recently, I wasn't convinced 'S' was an elf," I said simply, taking a small sip of ale for appearance's sake. I was neither thirsty nor could I appreciate the taste. "I say recently, but I mean that I grew certain she was an elf in the last few decades."
Looking back, it was probably because for the first time since I started to write my letters as 'A', I considered the topic of a human lifespan seriously. Because I knew Lisch didn't have that much time left, and I understood that no apprentice of his could help me with my work the way he did. It just wasn't feasible.
In the same way, it wasn't feasible to assume that 'S' was a group of people who were somehow consistently more competent than me in magic in general for years. That was an assumption I was allowed to make a century ago, and I didn't care enough about the topic to muse on it for a while… but keeping to delude myself would have been silly.
It's not that I couldn't have realized this sooner; I just didn't particularly care to think about the topic much.
Because fundamentally, I didn't care who I was speaking with. I had no consideration to spare for the person on the other side. Because I didn't see a person, I saw a colleague.
A perfect peer to exchange ideas with, ask for criticism, and try to ask for advice when needed.
'S' was a perfect sharpening stone for all of my research, and proved to be able to distribute the works I produced and needed to spread.
The realization that the colleague on the other side never seemed to have asked for my advice and help arrived only in hindsight. As did the fact that most topics we debated about to this day were fundamentally started by me. 'S' seemingly had few topics 'he' would talk about unprompted.
So, it wasn't hard to conjure a guess who could be the long-lived mage who was ever more knowledgeable than me in any area of magic, bar Chimerology.
But even knowing I was speaking to Serie, which I was almost convinced of in recent years… changed absolutely nothing. Aside from giving more consideration to sending her some of the things I thought she would find interesting.
Until today, that is.
"You know, I came here because I wanted to know what you are like," she said, looking me in the eyes, her brows furrowing, "'A', the mysterious mage who turned magic upside down, and got the Great Mage agitated… a mysterious mage whom master takes for an apprentice, and gives so much attention to…" she sighed, shaking her head, "I should have expected someone like you. Who else would just write to someone else for centuries without even exchanging names?"
I stared at the girl, trying to see her point.
Catching my look, she just sighed, not answering the unvoiced question.
"I have more than my fair share of oddities," I admit simply, "Yet I fail to see the reason you would wish to make such a journey just to meet me." I tilted my head a bit to signal my curiosity, "I remember the tracking spell about a year ago. I was concerned about it initially, thinking someone might have intercepted the familiar to attach it, but 'S' merely told me not to overly worry about it."
For some reason, Neugieri grew alert, hearing that, glancing at me.
"W-wait, you knew?! And you told her?!" she asked, her voice growing small and deeply horrified.
I just blinked.
"Well, naturally?" I questioned, a bit confused, "'Mark an object and trace its location' spells have a rather bright mana signature, they are easy to spot even if you do attach them to grimoires as you did. It's also very out of character for 'S', so I immediately questioned her to make sure our line of communication wasn't compromised." I did suspect Schlacht immediately, after all.
"The signature is imperceptible to anyone who isn't practically scanning for it!" the girl complained, shaking her head, "Oh goddess, she is probably so mad that I messed with her things, she will definitely be mad when I'm back…"
Only after her explanation did I realize the reason for her distress.
Lack of any empathy, bar an intellectual one, made me a bit slower on the uptake sometimes in those matters. I was thinking she was distressed that I could spot a spell she was trying to hide, and that it would wound her pride.
"My question still stands, however," I reminded softly, yet firmly, looking at the girl, "If not for your master's request, I would like to know why you sought me out."
Neugieri looked up at me, her brows furrowing a bit, as she studied me.
"She is your master too, you know?" she offered.
I shook my head. I saw Neugieri seemed displeased by it.
"She is not," I started slowly, "She certainly helped me considerably; I wouldn't be where I am if not for her," I said honestly, "That being said, she isn't my teacher. She is a fellow professional with whom we talk about our craft," I explain simply.
Neugieri shook her head.
"She sent you grimoires and study materials!" she argued.
I nodded to that.
"Which I appreciate greatly, but she didn't teach me anything," I explained simply, not sure why Neugieri was even getting so heated, "Any studying I did by myself, the research too, was my own work."
Neugieri just shook her head, looking absolutely bewildered.
"She wasn't personally teaching me, at least not most of the time. I, too, did most of my studying and research for myself, but she was there to spot your mistakes and tell you how to do better, wasn't she, just like she was for me?" she said, and for a moment I wasn't certain how to answer.
I wished to deny it, but looking back, it was, in part, what she did. She provided me with proper terminology and gifted me a number of grimoires.
My tangent into enchanting and golemomancy was due to her, at least at first.
And come to think of it, it was always me coming for advice and a second opinion. True, I grew more confident in the specific research I was trying to do, but I always contacted 'S' to oversee what I ended up doing from a position of someone more knowledgeable, didn't I?
Why then have I never considered this before?
I sat there for some time, analyzing what little feelings I did have in my demonic heart.
"I may have grown too prideful," I admitted before nodding, and meeting Neugieri's eyes again, "You are correct, by most, if not all metrics, I would be considered to have apprenticed under her." I pause for a bit, considering the issue, "I suppose, the idea is met with some resistance in my mind because I don't feel like we have a dynamic of a master and an apprentice. Usually, you inherit more than just knowledge from your master, do you not?" I asked, my question filled more with curiosity than anything else.
"I… yes? I think so?" She might have been taken aback by the question itself. "But can you honestly say that… well, that letters and what you learned from her gave you only the knowledge of magic?"
The question did make me pause.
If there was one thing to pick…
"Maybe there was one thing…" I offered, trailing off.
I remember how it felt when I started submerging myself in magic. It felt like an Abyss, a literal void of knowledge and possibilities, with only me alone to shed some light and search for a way deeper.
In that Abyss of magic, I was completely alone, navigating by touch, and otherworldly knowledge that a structured approach to exploration of this Minotaur's Labyrinth will eventually help me to find my Golden Fleece.
But it certainly didn't feel like it. I felt like I was alone in my search.
Letters with 'S' proved that I was not. My ideas weren't so foreign, my methods not quite so eldritch, my search not so pointless. Because others could follow in my footsteps, which meant what I was doing wasn't impossible, nor was it doomed to fail.
'S' showed me that for all its unfathomable depth, even magic could be mapped out and explored.
And that there are those in the dark who know more than you, and can help.
"One thing is enough," Neugieri said, her voice surprisingly soft, "I am not master's copy either, you know? I think she knows neither of us will ever be completely like her, and deep down she is okay with that, even if she grumbles," There was surprising depth in Neugieri's words, even if she sounded wistful, and her cheeks were a bit reddened by alcohol.
"I suppose it doesn't change much either way," I said simply, before glancing at the girl, "Let me ask you for the third time, why did you seek me out?"
Neugieri paused, searching my face for something.
I half-expected her to switch topics again.
"Master did a lot for me," she said simply, glancing down at the mug in front of her, "I am incredibly grateful to her, it's a debt I will never be able to repay completely," she said, determined, before glancing up, "She was putting a lot of trust in you, an elf she never saw, and didn't know anything about… and it scared me a bit. Because that made her vulnerable."
Neugieri looked me in the eyes.
"I wanted to meet you to see what sort of person you are. Traveling for a bit to see the world seemed like a nice idea, too. I… didn't think far beyond that," she admitted quietly.
For a moment, our private table was quiet; only the rare sounds of the mostly empty tavern interrupted the quiet.
"If your main goal was to see the world outside the City of Magic and get to know me, you can stay at the Academy for as long as you need," I offered simply, making the girl blink, as she looked up, "I don't rightly mind, and if it puts you at ease, all the better for it."
She seemed to hesitate for a long moment.
"...thank you," she said, before glancing at Hanseln, who was pretending to look down at the floor below, "What about him?" she said, pointing at him with her thumb.
I think the man almost choked on the ale at being addressed so unceremoniously.
"What about him?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"He heard that you are 'A'!" she explained heatedly, gesturing, "Weren't you keeping it a secret?!" she asked, whispering at me, "My speciality is mental magic, just so you know."
I just stared at the girl. I was confident Hanseln also just heard this.
"I did some time ago, maybe," I admitted, my tone empty, "But you do realize I teach Chimerology in the academy? And that I did tell my students the pseudonym I published under?"
Neugieri just stared at me for a moment.
I then pointed at Hanseln by her side.
"Also, you do realize that he is a knight, and a person of importance in the region, who can probably have you arrested?"
Neugieri slowly turned to Hanseln.
The man just smiled at her; the expression would have looked friendly if it didn't show too many teeth.
"Tee-hee, sorry, master always says I have a terrible sense of humor!" she immediately lies badly. "I didn't really mean anything by it at all!"
"You didn't, did you?" Hanseln drawled, meaningfully, "That's good to hear. Let me, too, share a story. We had a case about an alchemist spiking a drink with memory-muddling potion…"
I took a sip of the ale, glancing down, and letting Hanseln unwind with the girl. As a demon, I couldn't really ignore his story, but could pay less attention to it.
***
I entered the storeroom and immediately spotted Berg leaning back against a barrel, his hands on his chest, as he looked at me.
So it was he who asked the serving girl to call me here after all.
I expected as much, but I wasn't sure why he didn't want Hanseln here, too. Maybe because the young captain got a little too into sharing stories with Neugieri?
"Are you going to call Hanseln here too?" I asked simply, igniting a small magical light above my palm to have some more light shed. "I believe he also wanted to know what I discovered."
The dwarf squinted in annoyance, but shook his head.
"Didn't ye already talk this out?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"We were preoccupied with someone else," I explained curtly.
"Well, I'll pass the message to him," Berg said grimly, "Can't have the three of us together, I've been followed here again by one of the Bürgermeister's men." At my look, the dwarf just shook his head, "No reason to make the man unnerved, Albert. He doesn't want me involved, so he shouldn't see me interactin' with ye two together."
I elected not to argue on that topic again, even if I did feel that those charades were pointless.
"I found this," I said, bringing up a small thin piece of stone that I carefully threw to Berg.
It rotated in the air like a coin, but was pitch black.
He caught it.
"Scale?" he asked immediately, leaning closer, before correcting himself, "No, it's more as if someone engraved a scale out of stone…"
"It is a scale of a Thundercrackle Turtle," I offered simply, "They are the type of monsters who don't have a heart and who don't dissipate into mana after death. Quite rare, and not native to this region, they can usually be met deeper in the Central Lands." I explained, not bothering to bring up terminology that I knew Berg disliked, "It took me a while to remember it too."
I was more or less honest; if not for the Resonant Soul, I am sure I wouldn't have recognized it.
"Yer point?" Berg asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"It's a rare potion ingredient," I told him simply, "It works as a catalyst. Never really dissolves or disappears in the potion itself, even as it's activated, it's there to facilitate a reaction." I explained pretty thoroughly, before shaking my head, "To be clear, I am not an alchemist, I just know the basics. But I think I saw this as an ingredient to potions that can start very rapidly expanding magical fires."
Berg just studied me for a while.
"Right, it's somethin' ye'll check, I reckon?" he asks rhetorically, and I just nod in agreement, "Good. So we may potentially have a potion that shouldn't have ever been fuckin' kept in the Valley Guard armoury bein' found there?" he muses to himself.
"Not necessarily," I reminded, "We don't know what has been stored in there over the years. It could have been one of the things hoarded by a quartermeister, maybe because it was confiscated?" I offered, before shaking my head, "Even if I recalled correctly, it doesn't mean this scale was in the potion that caused the fire… and if it was, still doesn't mean it was intentional."
Berg just nodded to that.
"Ye found anythin' else?"
I just shook my head.
"Sorry, but no," I folded my hands on my chest, "Residual mana would have disappeared after so many people walked all across the site, so predictably none of my spells picked anything up. Other than that, what do you expect me to find? I am not capable of postcognition."
The dwarven warrior just stared at me.
"Of what?"
"Seeing the past," I clarified, shaking my head, "The best I can do is…" I trailed off, suddenly realizing that I can, in fact, do postcognition of a sort.
"Ye've got an idea, I see?" Berg asked firmly.
I slowly nodded.
"Possibly. Were any of these sites anywhere near a stable? Maybe a house with a cow or a dog?" I asked, turning to a dwarf, "There is a mental mage in town, a pretty good one at that; if a living creature was watching, she can probably see its memories."
I could see Berg's eyes widen at that, as he started to pace back and forth.
"I don't know," he said after a moment, "I need to check the sites, ask some people, but that's a good lead. It'll give us information we can work with. Aye, I like that." He nodded to himself, before glancing at me, "I'll check about that on me end, while ye check those potion ingredients?" he asked, more clarifying than giving a command.
I just nodded.
"Seems like a good idea. But Berg," I glanced at the dwarf meaningfully, "Try to finish your search as fast as you can. Mental mages can only work with the memories and thoughts the mind still has; if those fade, they can do nothing. Farm animals don't have the best of memories, so you should hurry." Naturally, my Resonant Soul had no such limitations.
Mind was imperfect at storing memories, but the soul remembered everything, if only you knew how to coax out the memory.
Naturally, it meant that I wasn't limited by the amount of time that had passed. But with Neugieri in the city, I was decisively against trying to pretend my curse is merely mental magic.
In general, I elected to keep myself as far as possible from Neugieri's spells, as I am a demon.
Her magic won't work on me the way it works on humans, and it will give me away.
Normally, that would be a cause to keep away from her in general, but she is hardly the type to try and cast mental spells on me unprompted, from what I can tell, so there was no reason to overreact.
"I'll see what I can do," the dwarf nodded resolutely. He didn't seem overly happy.
I understood why. Ultimately, we were chasing ghosts. Chances are, if this was a deliberate sabotage like Berg swore his gut was telling him, the perpetrator would already be long gone.
After all, the Guard had been successfully gutted.
I didn't expect much from this investigation, and mostly did my part as a favour, but that is simply how such things go sometimes.
***
"Excuse me, sir Albert?" It was at the exit from the tavern that I was stopped by a nervous-looking man, who smiled at me awkwardly the moment I directed my attention towards him.
By his manner of dress and the badge, I recognized what he was instantly. That is, a stadtbote, a liveried servant of the city hall; the Bürgermeister had a few of those on standby.
Glorified messengers of the Ahnungslos's office. I've met a few, but not that particular young man, it seems.
"That's correct," I replied neutrally, which immediately made the man smile in relief.
"Sir Ahnungslos wanted to request your presence in the arena," He said politely, "I believe he wanted to discuss the sequence of matches? Something to do with golems sustaining more damage than anyone expected, your expertise is needed, good sir!"
I considered the summons for a moment before nodding sharply.
"It can be done. Would you mind passing a message for me once we reach the arena?" I requested, receiving the expected 'of course!' a moment later. I gestured, and a piece of paper levitated from a pouch on my belt, and a more advanced self-writing spell started to etch letters directly into the paper a moment later. I caught the paper, inspecting the message, before nodding to myself, "Pass this to the Enchantress."
This was a request to compile a couple of books about alchemy, nothing that would be suspicious even if the message were to be intercepted.
"It will be done," The stadtbote said, carefully folding the paper with practiced ease and placing it in his own bag, before glancing up at me, "Shall we?"
I merely nodded.
The trip to the arena that was erected on the plaza not far from the city center didn't take overly long, despite how many people were out and about.
I shouldn't be overly surprised; this might not be the Emberwake festival, but it was the Winter Solstice.
People placed lanterns on the windows and outside their houses, so despite the dark, it wasn't hard to navigate.
As always, Sturmkamm was a clean and pleasant city, the only part of it I would have complained about, were I still a human, was the varied elevation.
Finally, we arrived, and quickly enough, I was directed to a private room, not in the building of the arena itself, but rather in an inn nearby that was completely bought out by the Bürgermeister's office for organizing the tournament and preparing food.
Dodging a few serving girls and men who were ferrying empty mugs and plates, I got to the right place and cracked the door open.
"Albert!" The Bürgermeister looked up from some papers, waving me in, "You are right on time. Unfortunately, Master Zaudern already retired; age and the excitement are catching up to him, I am afraid, but I still have his suggestions here…"
This tournament was Zaudern's passion project of sorts. I was the one who came up with it, and whose students fueled it, Ahnungslos funded it, and gave us certain permissions to operate in the city once he saw a financial promise of the venture, but Zaudern?
It was his passion project.
The old man loved the idea of teams of mages inventing new and better golems to challenge one another with in a fight. According to him, it's the most exciting thing he's ever seen, and unlike the usual bread-making business of his, this actually made his heart beat, so he wanted to dedicate himself to the 'sport' while he still could.
It was completely unexpected to me at first, but I understood, intellectually, I believe.
This was quite an exciting premise to see magical machines battle it out.
"What exactly is the issue?" I asked simply, approaching, "We did agree that I won't be needed today, didn't we?"
Ahnungslos smiled apologetically.
"Indeed, we did. I apologize for interrupting your day off with this… old warrior friend of yours. Goddess willing, I know you spent a lot of time organizing things on your end too." He said sympathetically, "The main reason I wanted you here is for a secondary opinion. You see, the golems fighting today received more damage than anticipated. Zaudern says most of them wouldn't be fully operational tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow." The slightly overweight man shrugged helplessly, "He claims it's better to postpone the last part of the tournament for a few days. If it's necessary, I would agree, of course," He said, shifting in place a bit, "But it's rather expensive, and it would take even longer to clean the plaza? I wanted you to have a look, and maybe find a way to… maybe speed up the repairs?"
Knowing Ahnungslos, he likely offered to leave the rigid time frame, saying that the golems don't have to be fully repaired to fight. Which likely made Zaudern storm out.
This is probably the Bürgermeister's attempt to find the middle ground. By involving me.
I sat down across from the man, looking him in the eyes.
"I assume you have the grimoires for the golems or at least the damage reports?" I prompted, making the man clearly exhale in relief, as he nodded and passed me the stack of papers.
I opened the first one and started to inspect the report.
It was clearly written in a hurry, and from a single glance, I could tell it wasn't my student's golem. They knew better than to write documentation like this.
"This won't work," I said after a few minutes, putting the stack of paper aside, "It would be better if I could expect the golems themselves and talk with the teams behind them." I tilted my head, "But normally, I wouldn't expect it to be possible to hurry things up. Maintenance cycles for golems can be long for a reason, and shortening them is an art in itself. Repair work is related to that proportionally most of the time. If it would take you eight hours of work to maintain a golem, you likely won't be able to replace an important component much faster." I commented, frowning, "That said, while a day or two for repairs is unreasonable, giving them more time than four days would be too much." I met the man's eyes, "That's my preliminary opinion, in either case."
Ahnungslos just chuckled, shaking his head.
"Direct as always, I see. Well, I certainly can have my people give you a tour," He offered, before sighing, "If only men were as easy to fix. Do you think it's possible to use those constructs in the defence of the region, headmaster?"
Ahnungslos asked, his eyes piercing and attentive as they stopped at me.
"You've been informed on how long it takes to maintain them." I replied simply, raising an eyebrow, "Considering the Valley Guard's current condition, I somehow doubt you have money to spare."
The man chuckled unamusedly, leaning back in his seat once again.
"Once more, direct," He commented, as a smile evaporated from his face and his eyes met mine, "I assume it's your friend Berg who is telling tall tales about the poor toothless Valley Guard? Bah," The man shook his head, "They've been overstuffed and overbloated for years. Our region is one of the safest in this part of the continent, because of the mountains, few monsters ever wander in, and most valleys are practically cleaned out of the dangerous beasts. We don't need that many good hunters and patrolmen to maintain the peace on the roads and to monitor high passes," He said simply, before his voice grew annoyed, "Berg is one of the old men who does not realize that time has changed. This valley? This whole mountain range? They were dangerous back in his day. Hoarding weapons and people for the guard was necessary for survival. But for us, right now? It's just a waste."
The man seemed utterly convinced by what he was saying, even if his annoyance and dislike of Berg seemed to extend a bit past the mere difference in opinion and worldview.
"The one who does not feed his own military feeds the enemy's, no?" I quoted, glancing at the man, "Besides, you can never fully predict monster migration. Having weapons and trained people to spare is just good practice for safety."
"This is an interesting quote," Ahnungslos's brows furrowed, "Where is it from? I can't seem to recall?" He shook his head a moment later, before I could answer, "Albert, you may be an expert on monsters, and a man who lived a life longer than I could imagine, but you don't seem to understand that structures like the Valley Guard are living, breathing creatures too." He explained simply, "Merely showering your problems with more gold will not make the solutions present themselves faster. There are diminishing returns in such matters. If you pay past a certain threshold, the result won't be improved, and the excess money will just… disappear like morning mist. Especially when it comes to the production of goods or military matters. Sometimes it's better to pay less; it makes corruption a lot less blatant." The man explained, sitting back.
I studied him for some time.
"You believe Valley Guard to be corrupt?"
The Bürgermeister laughed out loud at the question.
"Albert, come on, who do you think isn't?" He shook his head, "No, they do their work just fine right now. And that's exactly it, they work fine with the money they are getting now, they fulfil the obligations they have. If they had more, they would start hiring some more people, they would want to build more watchtowers, they would need more weapons and supplies… and of course, some coins will be lost here or there along the way. As for how many of those new structures, people, and weapons are actually necessary? No one will be able to judge. That's the issue of building up forces 'to be safe', Albert. The people who tell you when you are safe will never do so because they want more of your coin. Trust me, I can see schemes like this from a mile away, like a hawk," The man joked, bringing up both of his hands and shaping his fingers in a 'grabby' claws, or perhaps talons.
The man chuckled humorlessly.
"Don't listen to Berg panicking over nothing, the Donnergipfel Region is safe. It always was, and it will be. The absolute worst case scenario?" The man smiled carelessly, "We have you."
I stared at the man in front of me and realized with sudden clarity that I understood the deep fear Berg had for the future of the region.
After all, unlike this man in front of me, I, too, understood just how powerful some monsters out there could be. After all, I, myself, am one such monster.
Knowing that the only shield of the region was reduced to the glorified patrols and hunters, who also will have to spend a few years now restocking their arsenal… wasn't good news.
Yet, I voiced none of it.
After all, there was always a chance the storm would just pass this place by.
Part of a letter addressed to 'L'.
…which is why a triple redundancy may be a good idea here, Lisch. I remind you again, this healing magic needs precision, not speed. We talked about this. Goddess's Magic deals with flesh wounds in battle just fine; your magic could be so much more than that as long as you apply it to things Goddess Magic can't do.
You can treat the previously untreatable diseases, and what's more important, this magic of yours can be adapted and developed further. Making sure it works reliably, no matter how long it takes to cast, is the priority.
With this sorted, I have an urgent question for you.
How often did you encounter demons trying to sabotage the warehouses or strategic logistical key points, such as buildings? Is this normal behavior for the demons you have fought? How strategic do they act against the Empire?
As you may guess from the question, something like this is happening where I currently reside. It's an issue mostly separate from me, at least for now, but a lot of equipment the militia who patrolled the roads and guarded towns used - went up in alchemical flames.
There are a few things that I don't like about the situation; the demon somehow knew of the alchemical supplies stored in the warehouses and armories, which implies reconnaissance. Reconnaissance that would take days, even if one could turn invisible. And, from what I understand of demons, this is too much time for a demon to sneak around and not kill a target of opportunity, or two, or ten. Yet nothing of that sort happened.
It's as if a demon entered the town, ignited things, and left.
Then there is the fact that no demon activity in this region was reported.
No travelers went missing, at least not in any unusual way, no patrols, no watchtowers went dark. I know that the one burning down supplies was a demon, but that is the only sign. I only know because the mental mage we hired used the eyes of a horse that was in a nearby stable to see it jump on the roof during the night. The demon had horns, was supernaturally quick and strong, and could clearly fly.
Have you ever encountered anything like this?
Excuse me if the contents of this message are a bit sporadic. I write them in a hurry and attach them to the rest of the notes I've been composing for weeks to send to you immediately. Please answer this message separately and send me a familiar back as soon as you possibly can, at least if, in your experience, this situation is eerily strange too.
Sorry for bothering you with this on our work channel.
A.
***
Part of a letter addressed to 'S'.
…ultimately, your apprentice is well. I don't think she will stay here for all that long, but seeing that you asked, I will help her with combat magic for as long as she stays.
You are oddly insistent, but I understand. I give you my word that I won't tell her about your instructions concerning her.
I have experience teaching even people who lack talent in the area, thanks to 'L', so having her develop further in combat magic, if you say her fundamentals are solid, shouldn't be too much of an issue.
Other than that, it's hard for me to judge her yet. She seemed like a young woman who is yet to determine what she wants and how, though I don't doubt that she is an incredible mage in her own right. Especially if she indeed did crack the way to cast mental magic on monsters.
In any case, her aside, allow me to correct you about page 12…
----
Author notes: Here comes the chapter, it's pretty big. A lot of things are happening here, too.
I am using the opportunities I have now to clear up some lore stuff, character motivations and such, as well as give you clues into the worldbuilding so things are established. It slows down the pacing somewhat, but I feel like it's worth it. Though do tell me what you think, I wander if those chapters are a bit too slow for some people.
Next chapter, as always, is on Patreon.