Chapter 165 - Speedrunning the Loop - Solem 21 (Patreon)

Mirian sat in the heart of the Alkazaria Citadel around a long, crowded table. The large, domed room they were in was ancient. Long ago, kings had held meetings with their lords here. The old stonework and angular carvings on the wall were contrasted by the modern glyph lamps.

Ibrahim was still missing, which meant, ironically, they were having to do things the hard way. By now, the sheer amount of changes in the timeline had made conversations like this far less predictable, and the events, more volatile. This time, a scout had claimed to have caught another sighting of Atroxcidi. Mirian wondered if it was chance, or Troytin leveraging the Deeps to screw with her. After all, she’d been too busy with her own agenda to properly impede him this time.

Torres and Jei sat to her left at the table. On her right was Praetorian Trinea. First Praetorian Voran didn’t sit; instead, he paced around the table holding the myrvite detector.

Since Mirian was disguised as Adria, she kept still and waited patiently to talk.

“You’re sure?” Voran asked.

Torres glanced at Mirian. “Yes,” her old professor said stoically, though Mirian knew she was nervous as hell. “The beast will emerge. Then, it will seek out the largest source of magical energy it can find. We must strike it while it’s weak.”

“You have airships. We have a target.”

“With respect, the target will wait,” Mirian said. “The titan will not.”

“You have airships. What the hell can it do?”

“Burrow and wait them out,” Mirian said. “Professor Jei?”

Jei nodded. “Iliyia’s device tracked the beast moving back and forth underground. The logical conclusion is the titan can move within the fourth spatial dimension. This makes sense. The Elder Gods and myrvite titans are closely connected. What is necessary is spells that attack it there, in the arcane dimension. This is not something artillery can do. It takes highly trained expert spellcasters.”

“Consider Archmage Protocol,” Mirian said. Trinea, in an earlier cycle, had explained that the Praetorians had a common tactical playbook. ‘Archmage Protocol’ was the idea that, if you were going after an extremely powerful caster with unknown capabilities, you wanted to hit them as hard and as fast as possible with such overwhelming force there was no chance they could deal with it. Mirian would have rather explained how the protocol related to the Elder titan, but Adria wouldn’t.

The meeting hadn’t been going as smoothly as she liked. She considered revealing herself a Prophet, but because she’d been trying to lay low in previous cycles and had hidden herself, she didn’t know how the Praetorians would react if she did. Better to stick with what she’d practiced; combining all the routes together had been enough of a headache. The changes were all building on each other, and she’d already been forced to improvise several times.

The haze of exhaustion kept trying to settle on her. She’d been burning soul energy from her repositories regularly just to stave it off.

First Praetorian Voran looked at Mirian again, eyes narrowing. Finally he said, “Director Arturus has been in contact with me.”

That raised Mirian’s hackles. He’s at the forefront of the conspiracy within the Deeps. So it is Troytin’s work. “And?” she said, working to keep her voice steady.

Voran still looked like he was trying to bore a hole in Mirian with his eyes. “He told me some concerning things. Most worrisome, that Atroxcidi seeks to strike Baracuel. Soon. Very soon.”

There was a sharp intake of breath throughout the room.

Mirian sneered. “The Department of Public Security has been playing politics with the Akanans. Their cell in Torrviol is out of control. I caught Nikoline Brunn sending false reports to the Capital. I don’t trust them.”

Jei looked worried, though to anyone that didn’t know her, she still looked like a statue. Her old mentor knew she was improvising now. Another damned avalanche, Mirian thought.

Voran’s shoulders relaxed slightly. There was longstanding animosity between the Deeps and Praetorians. They had to work together, but there was a lot of competition, especially as the Deeps continued to encroach on the purview of the Praetorians. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

Mirian wanted to launch into a long explanation, but that wasn’t how Adria talked. She said, curtly, “It didn’t seem relevant. It’s not part of my mission.”

Voran went back to pacing. “I can’t simply dismiss the report. If there’s any truth to it, if we’re out of position when he strikes… I don’t need to tell you how much damage he could do. And it would be the honor of the Praetorians that would die first. If the beast emerges, I have reason to order us north. But the mission comes first.”

Damnit! Mirian thought. There would be no time to organize, and that would leave her myrvite hunters and other allies unsupported. The Praetorians were crucial for preventing the beast from usings the fourth dimension to evade them.

Troytin’s mobilized the Deeps. If he has Arturus, he has a lot more. He at least has a inkling of what I’m trying to do, then. Which means, he has agents here.

On a hunch, Mirian cast the celestial spell detect life. Sure enough, she could see someone who appeared to be in the wall. A secret passage, and someone listening. She needed to improvise further.

“While we continue preparations for the necromancer, let Professor Jei train the Praetorians on the spells, and Professor Torres lead the authorized scribing of the forbidden glyphs on the devices I’ve prepared. That way, we are ready for both contingencies.”

“Done,” Voran said. “Otherwise, all preparations are still to move south for the operation.”

“First Praetorian,” Mirian said with a slight bow, and left the room at a swift walk. The spy in the walls started moving too, the passage leading north. Mirian took a left and sped down the corridor as fast as was reasonable.

She arrived at Saint’s Hall, an expansive room with a tall arched ceiling, just as the spy in the wall stepped out of a secret passage and replaced both the hidden door and the tapestry covering it. The room had several guards lounging around, and several workers busy renovating a wall. She didn’t recognized the man, but she noticed a bishop sitting at one of the tables. Bishop Saban. The bishop who liked to look at her funny. But she hadn’t seen him since Ibrahim stopped attacking the city.

None of the workers or soldiers in the room had reacted at all to the spy stepping out of the wall. Mirian embraced her soul-sight. Bindings, she saw immediately. That it was illegal for the Deeps to impersonate soldiers was irrelevant. She knew instantly the room was full of agents. But the spy who had come out of the wall was just another agent. The coin being siphoned from the Grand Sanctum to fund the conspiracy had come from the eastern temples. The connection came to her. Now she knew who was in charge of this operation.

Mirian ignored the spies, and strode over to the bishop.

“Ah, Adria,” Bishop Saban said, rising. “I’ve always said you had the courage of a…”

He left the sentence dangling, waiting for her to finish it. Specter’s tripwire word. Troytin told him I wasn’t the real Adria, but he wants to check first. “Apologies. I don’t really have time. I have a lot to do by nightfall.”

She noticed Saban’s gaze narrow as she said the first of Specter’s code words.

“And I lost my cerulean pendant on the way here. Commander Hirte was hoping I’d wear it to the masquerade after this was all over. So I’m not in the mood.”

The bishop looked at Mirian, then looked at the gathered agents. He would know Mirian had the celestial bindings disguising her to look like Adria, but he couldn’t know she wouldn’t look like Nikoline with them removed. Clearly, he’d been ordered to disrupt her plans here.

Mirian stepped closer. “The target isn’t here yet,” she said in a harsh whisper. “Who’s fucking with my orders?”

The agents started to reach towards their belts and weapons. Saban hesitated, then made a quick hand signal. They relaxed. The bishop brought his own voice to a whisper. “I got orders from the director himself.”

“Bullshit. I just talked to Arturus. Someone’s fucking with the operation. Is it one of the Akanans?” A lie had to be stated with perfect confidence.

“It had his seal,” Saban said, but he wasn’t confident.

“You of all people should know how easy those are to forge. Check for the secondary tripwire word.”

“Secondary?” the bishop said, confused.

Mirian thought of a word that would definitely be in Troytin’s letter. “Curse,” she said. “He doesn’t use them often, but he also isn’t full Director yet, just Director of Operations, so it’s necessary when a problematic cell is involved. And if you’re going to plan an ambush, don’t make it so hamfisted. This is embarrassing,” she said, gesturing at the room.

Saban swallowed. “I’ll… ah…”

“Tell Voran whatever you need to. But I need us to go north. Understood?”

The bishop nodded. “Yes, Specter,” he said.

Mirian let him walk away first. As he walked, he used three more hand gestures, and the agents in the room began to depart with him. Then she headed back to her quarters.

Nurea was waiting for her.

“Oh good. They didn’t get you yet,” the knight said. “I just received an emergency communique from my contacts. The Deeps—”

Mirian sighed. “I just handled it.”

***

The following afternoon, a courier came to get her. Voran wanted to see her.

Mirian was already supremely annoyed. They were running behind schedule. She’d already done her whole thing with Commander Hirte and implied they’d have time to properly talk after this was all over, so the airships had already departed. There were myrvite hunters who were no-doubt growing restless. Most of them were independent groups or contractors who competed with each other. They’d be at each other’s throats without direction.

Surely, the Deeps liaison had told Voran about the corrected report by now? Then what was he waiting for?

Mirian entered Voran’s quarters. They were sparse. He’d even directed servants to take most of the luxurious pillows and tapestries and hide them, though a few were peeking out from an alcove.

Voran was pacing back and forth again.

“Welcome,” he said. “I just got the strangest message. The Department of Public Safety rarely corrects its intelligence briefs, and when they do, it’s a matter of months, not days.”

He didn’t say ‘Adria,’ Mirian realized.

She held up a finger, and cast detect life. Sure enough, there was another spy listening in the walls. Since they weren’t using any magic, Voran probably had no idea. A dozen defensive and detection wards, but he simply hadn’t accounted for someone simply standing in the right place and listening. Too much reliance on magic. Mirian flipped through Luspire’s book, then cast silent area, a barrier spell that stopped all sound.

“There’s a Deeps agent on the other side of the wall,” she said. “He can’t hear us anymore. Use detect silver if you’d like to confirm my claim.”

Voran’s spellbook flipped into motion. He looked at the section of the wall, perturbed, then closed his spellbook again.

Then she noticed Voran’s device on the table. A divination device that had, by its illusory readout, detected whatever it was looking for. It appeared to be a sequence of glyphs.

Of course, she thought. Archmage Luspire was still looking for his spellbook. Of course he’d contact the Praetorians. If she’d missed even a single tracking glyph—

And she had, she realized. Normally, it didn’t matter, but this time, with Troytin helping direct the Deeps against her, Luspire had more information. Gently, she put the spellbook away and looked at Voran. He’d stopped pacing. His hand was at his side, holding a wand.

“I interrogated Professor Torres. In the end, I was forced to determine she did not actually know how the myrvite detector worked, nor how several of the glyphs are interacting. She could not explain how a celestial rune made its way into the design, nor its function. Then, I got a strange message from Archmage Luspire.” He glanced over at the detector.

“Don’t signal the others yet,” she said, raising her hands so he could see they were empty. “Hear me out.”

“What did you do with Adria?” he asked.

“Nothing. But Nikoline Brunn killed her three years ago. I needed to stay hidden from the other Prophet while I recruited your aid, only, he finally figured out what I’m doing. He’s acting through the Deeps, through Arturus. The original goal of the conspirators was no doubt to have the majority of the Praetorians off on a sandrunner chase through the desert while the coup took place, but now it’s to stop me.”

Voran stared at her. “Why should I trust a proven liar and thief?”

“I require nothing on faith,” she said. “The titan really will emerge soon. And I really am a Prophet. Watch.”

She manifested Eclipse. Voran drew his wand and took two rapid steps back.

“That’s the Sword of the Fourth Prophet, soulbound to me. I have a writ from Oculo, as well.” She tossed him the scroll. “Prophets are above all laws and doctrines,” she said. “Only, there’s never been more than one before.”

Voran looked at the blade, then glanced at the writ, wand still pointed at her. “Who are you really?” he said, voice low and dangerous.

“A student from Torrviol. A nobody. You wouldn’t have heard of me.”

“Still, I’d like a name.”

“Mirian Castrella,” she said.

Voran lowered his wand and looked at her. He was silent, his gaze unreadable. “Fate’s a funny thing,” he finally said.

He said that before. She wanted to ask him about that, then she suddenly got the feeling it would be a waste of time. The mission’s more important. I need this to be done this cycle. Now that Troytin had caught on to a genuine objective of hers, she might not get another chance.

Voran was silent still, looking at her, so she spoke. “The titan will emerge, and it may be the cause of the eruptions around the world. Or at least, connected to them. But the titan can’t be defeated by a gaggle of myrvite hunters. I’ve set it up like this: Adria will assign me as leader of the assault on the beast, and return to her mission to protect the Monument in Torrviol. Then, there will be no more deception. But we need to start moving north as soon as possible. The longer we delay, the more likely we run into a problem. Once the leyline erupts near the tracks on the 23rd, we’ll be severed from the events to the west.”

She looked at Voran. I’m doing it again, she realized. Forgetting that she needed to explain each thing, forgetting how the things that had happened to her a hundred times were still new to them. She opened her mouth to start a proper explanation, but Voran interrupted her.

“So you’re the next Prophet?” He looked at Eclipse, then brought his hand close to it. She embraced her focus without thought, and watched as his auric mana sizzled against the blade. “Fate’s a funny thing,” he said again. “We go north tomorrow.”

“And keep this secret,” Mirian said. “The more we stray from the plan, the less predictable the timeline gets.”

“Very well, Prophet Mirian.”

True to his word, the Praetorians started moving north the next day.

Soon, Mirian thought. She just had to keep the exhaustion at bay.