The Archmage: Chapter Sixteen (Patreon)

Eventually, my office hours came to a close, and I headed up the stairs to the old summoning circle. 

Tara and Osheen were already there, powering up the wards, and I tossed my whispering wind spell into the center of the circle and activated the function to get Awel Meddal’s attention. 

It took her a little while, but eventually she appeared. She looked me over, head to toe, then raised an eyebrow. 

“Coya?” she asked. 

“What?” I said, confused. I didn’t even know what Coya was… 

“No?” she said. “Well, color me surprised.” 

I blinked, thrown off by her seeming randomness. She’d never taken that tactic with me before. 

“What did you need?” Awel asked curiously. “You’ve entirely fulfilled your debts to me in time. I admit that I half expected you to never call upon me again.” 

“You’ve treated me as fairly as I could reasonably ask for,” I said. “This time, I need information. About myself, my new arch-star, and about my humanity…” 

I let up my dual auras, and Awel studied me. 

“What I know about this,” she finally said, “Is incredibly limited. But I’ll share what I can for the right price, and better yet, I can refer you to the man most suited to answering your question properly.” 

“What price?” Tara asked, and Awel smiled, then extended a hand, as if to help pull Tara to her feet. The wards didn’t flare, so she wasn’t trying to break them, simply making a motion. 

“Two things, though maybe I should make it three, for magic’s sake. First… you have no familiar bond, do you, Tara?” Awel asked. 

Tara shook her head silently, and Awel nodded. 

“I thought not. I know you won’t accept one of my Lords or Maestros, but what if I were to offer you a bond of a Sylph? That should be safe enough, no?” 

“Why?” Tara said. 

“It would give us a foothold,” Awel said. “Your power is… Very different than ours. Take young Evan here – he has, by virtue of his bond with Oracle, greatly expanded the amount of power the being once called the Silver Queen can call on, even though he’s not expanded his aura directly in the way you mortals think of it. The same would happen for me, and I could use it as a foothold to expand my power further north. Currently, my domain barely touches upon this winter world.” 

“I see,” Tara said. 

“What are the other two?” Osheen asked, and I shook my head. Before Awel could speak, I cut in. 

“You want to give your sylphs to prospective mages in order to expand your foothold here?” I asked. “I can make that happen, easily, provided you’re looking for a standard familiar bond, not anything crazy.”

“Oh?” Awel said, tilting her head. 

“Yes,” I said. “I can extend the offer to my classes. More than two dozen possible new mages, each of whom will grow in power.” 

I’d already prepared my first lesson in general witchcraft, after getting done with the basics of languages, to be about summoning familiars. I wasn’t a summoning expert, so I’d just purchased one of the simplest summoning spells I could from Mabel, a spell to summon an elemental mite.

A sylph may not be extremely powerful, but it was a step up from a mite, at least.

But there was no reason to let Awel in on this. If I could get my students more options and help her, it could be a win for everyone.

“Surely you can’t expect the value of those mages to be the same as the boost from Tara,” Awel said. 

“It’s a gamble,” I said. “Some of them will fail, and you will only get a minor boost in power. But some of them will succeed, and you’ll reap a far larger boost.” 

“I see,” Awel said. “If you do offer my sylphs to your students as long as you teach, and Tara takes one on as well, I can accept it.” 

“No,” Tara said. “I get the point, but I don’t want someone else in my brain. It’s weird.” 

I gave her a strange look, and Oracle, who was perched on a table nearby let out an indignant squawk. 

I squinted. I knew that Tara had tried to summon a familiar when she’d been a student – that was why the ligature had turned her away. 

Had she failed several times and given up, kind of like how Sarai almost had? 

Interesting. 

“Well,” Awel said. “How about if you build me – or rather, build Lady Mellt – a powerful offensive water artifact on par with your staff, and offered the sylphs to your students?” 

“Seven years for the sylphs,” Osheen interjected. “You can’t expect lifelong commitment for one instance of information.” 

“In addition, you need to provide the resources for the artifact,” I said. “I’ll deliver it within a year and a day.” 

“I can accept those terms, but I’ll need a wind and a water artifact,” Awel said, and I felt my eyes narrow. 

“This is to push Mellt from a Lady of Lightning to a Lady of Storms, isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” Awel said brazenly. “You’re both enchanters, and I hope this will give her an inspiration to manage to change it.” 

“I changed mine easily,” I said. Again, it just tumbled out without my intention, and Awel smiled slightly. 

“You’ll want to get a handle on that,” she said. “It’s an inconvenient part of being a faerie. But why don’t you change it again?” 

I focused and tried to tap into the song, changing it from the beat of Change to that of Spring. 

Nothing happened.

Not even a small change. The tempo of the song within the Aura didn’t even stutter. 

“It’s easy for the first three hundred and thirty-three seconds after your power condenses into the Maestro stage. Or in your case, your faerie nature awakens completely. After that, it becomes far, far harder.” 

That was interesting, but not terribly relevant. 

I glanced at Osheen, who shrugged, and then at Tara. 

“You won’t be spying on the students or using it to influence their minds, will you?” Tara asked. 

“No,” Awel said, sounding slightly exasperated. Not that I could blame her – I had already said that. “They will be ordinary bonds. Beneficial for both parties. But if your students mistreat a bond, the fae will take revenge, as is right and proper.” 

Of course they would. They were a fae, after all. 

Still, I thought I could live with these terms.

“Deal,” I said, and Awel and I shook hands. Magic flared around the both of us, and I felt my Faerie Aura light itself. Power passed between us, and then settled away. 

Awel took a step back, then sucked in a deep breath through her nose. Magic swirled through the air, sliding into her mind before she finally bobbed her head in a nod. 

“I’ve not seen your specific case before,” she admitted. “And I’m not a Queen of Death, with some great sense for the soul. Your faerie aura will continue corrupting the bits of humanity left there until it’s completely faerie, and then it will either stop, or it will leap the current barrier, and slowly corrupt everything.” 

“We already knew that much,” I said. “If you don’t have more, I don’t see how that’s worth two powerful tools.”

“Well, your breath of life isn’t human,” she said. “But it’s not faerie either. It reminds me of an elven lifeline, in a way, but less… potent. More like that of a Satyrs, I suppose, but definitely not influenced in such a direction, it’s a different breed of faerie influencing you. You’re definitely still a mortal, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you lived to a hundred and forty or so? As you continue to develop, I suspect you’ll be able to cast rudimentary faerie spells, but will likely never be able to progress past a Maestro level. Perhaps lord.”

“I can fuse with a phoenix, but I don’t have this sort of… condition,” Osheen said. “Why does Evan?” 

“Your arch-star allows you to physically combine with the vessel,” Awel said. “This is similar, but different. If you had three more familiars, you could fuse with any of them, and gain access to a variety of magics, and your power is limited by the two of you. This is permanent, but more limited.” 

“You said you knew someone who would know more,” Tara said. “Who is it?” 

“His name is Oberon,” Awel Meddal said. “A strange faerie king, one who shifts from court to court at a whim. Powerful, too. Dangerous. He has, at various times, been a consort to Medb, Titania, and Herne the Hunter, to say nothing of all of the lesser kings and queens and sovereigns that he’s courted.” 

I raised an eyebrow at that. I tried to not judge, but I was curious how he’d help me. Maybe, since his loyalty shifted so often, he was excellent at changing the tune of Faerie magic? 

“His central magic is that of…” Awel trailed off, tilting her head one way, then the other.
“To put it generously, clinging. Each court that he spends time in, he keeps a tiny portion of their magic. He’s able to then weave together these magics. If he wants to cast a healing spell, he might weave together a bit from the breath of life, a touch of healing springs, and a droplet of spring renewal. He’s collected dozens of different powers over the centuries, and if there’s anyone in all of the planes who would be suited to assisting with your situation, it would be him.” 

She considered it for a moment. 

“At least, that I’m aware of. I don’t claim to be all knowing.” 

“I see,” I said quietly. 

Even I had heard of Oberon, but I hadn’t considered him as a real option. 

“Can I really contact him?” I asked. 

“Oh yes,” Awel Meddal said. “You’ll need a good summoning array, like this one. You’ll need strong summoners as well, and you’ll need to fill the empty bowls here with components related to Oberson. Then you’ll need an offering to give him as a gift. But… It is possible.”

“How long does he have until the faerie magic hits the barrier?” Osheen asked. 

Awel stared at me and squinted.

“I suspect… Six months? The Autumn equinox is a significant time of change, but it will wane during the Winter solstice. Perhaps the Spring equinox? Or in the week leading up to it.” 

“I see,” I said, relaxing a little. That was a timeline, but not as bad as I feared. 

“Could replacing his aura spark with a new one via the ritual purify it, up until then?” Tara asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Awel said. “I suspect so, but it may undo the arch-star.” 

I nodded. That was honestly what I expected. If I had to remake my arch-star, that wouldn’t be the end of the world. I’d done it once, I was confident that I could do it again. 

I didn’t think I’d be splitting it again, though. As neat as coming up with a new arch-star was, if I just had two human auras… I guess I could become a sorcerer or something? Or gain some more bonds. 

Hmm… 

“Evan?” Osheen asked, “Any other questions?” 

“I don’t think so,” I said. “At least, not in this negotiation. But how much do you know about memory and information compression?” 

“Not much,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re allied with Garnet, yes?” 

“Loosely,” I said. 

“You could summon and speak to him. He knows more about it than I do, as does your own Queen of Change.” 

“I see,” I said. I wasn’t willing to thank her – I thought we’d built enough of a relationship of mutual assistance that I’d be able to, but it wasn’t worth the risk. But I did the best I could. 

“Your information has been clear and useful,” I said. 

“I am certain your weapons and future bonds will be quite useful,” Awel said. “I am glad to have an amicable working relationship.” 

“As am I,” I agreed. 

Awel vanished then, a small breeze floating across the space. I looked at Tara, then at Osheen. 

“We do have two powerful Druids,” Osheen said. “If Draven and Seth both pitch in.” 

“Components will be a problem,” Tara admitted. “But if we were to heist a noble vault…” 

“Those will all be on high alert,” I pointed out, “maybe Draven will have something?” 

“Maybe,” Tara said. 

As we headed down to get dinner, though, I felt… Light. I could still manage this, control this. It wasn’t an insurmountable mountain. It was a puzzle.