The Abjurer: Chapter 36-37 (Patreon)

I checked everything that Travis had told me against my copy of his own notes, of course, but once I was sure it was mostly correct, Osheen, Tara, and I were forced to make a trip I didn’t want.

It was time to return to the king’s summoning site.

There were two main reasons for this.

The first was Phillip. He had summoned two demons during our fight, and I was certain their cores had to be around the ritual somewhere – the consumer’s had been, after all.

The second was to make use of the summoning circle.

I didn’t have, or technically need, a proper summoning circle to call up the spring king. The boon served that purpose just fine.

But with what I was asking, I wanted to squeeze every drop of favor I could out of the boon, so I might as well activate it at a leyline connected to the fae sovereignties, at a point with a high grade, permanent summoning circle.

Thus, the three of us snooped through the room until we found the core stones, before I stood just a few steps from the center of the circle.

For safety’s sake, Tara started by activating the wards that were already inlaid into the circle, Osheen assisting her by flowing his power through Rowan’s old crystal and letting her draw it out.

Once they were active, I lit my aura, and wove it slowly through the first of the three twisting knots that made up my favors owed.

As I did, a wind began to sweep across the ward ring. It spun with increasing violence until, at last, green fire slipped out of nowhere and congealed into the form of the Vernal King.

He glanced around at us and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“It’s you, the guy who murdered my predecessor. What do you want?” the king asked, sounding more bored than angry.

I winced. Technically, I hadn’t been the one to kill her, but I did feel somewhat guilty about her death.

Not responsible.

But guilty.

I held up a sheet of paper and pushed it forwards, across the ward boundary. The king snatched it, and I would have tumbled inside if Osheen hadn’t grabbed me and steadied me.

The paper had a list on it, a list of all of the components that I would need for both my cloak and the spell I was planning for Osheen, as well a copied out list of components from the book containing the aura-spark resetting ritual that Draven had given me, before a final group of anything else I could think of that might be remotely useful for enchanting projects – materials to rebuild and enhance my elemental wands, paralysis knives, and other components that were just plain useful.

Each of the components had a rough weight or size listed as well – I wasn’t about to get snubbed by the king providing a rice grain sized amount of everything.

I hadn’t had the time to read through Draven’s little book, not with all of the spells I was cramming in, but I had looked at the list of components.

“I invoke the first of my favors owed,” I said. “Bring me everything the scope of the favor allows, sorted from the item at the top of the list in the orientation you hold it now, to the bottom in the same orientation.”

The Vernal King lowered the paper and looked at me, disbelief clear on his face.

“You’re calling in a favor… For spell components?”

I shuffled and crossed my arms defensively. I didn’t say that I’d actually be willing to burn more than one favor, to ensure I got everything on the list, and I did my best to firm my face into a hard mask.

“Well, since you value my request so low and are thus clearly able to provide everything on the list with ease, I’d be happy to write out additional components that I require,” I said. The Vernal King’s eyes narrowed, and several bright red flowers burst up around his feet.

“No. This list is too much. The first nine items only.”

I let out a short, bark-like laugh, and Osheen snorted.

“Want me to curse him for his stupidity?” Tara asked.

I was mostly sure she was bluffing, but I did tilt my head as if to consider it.

“Well, after seeing how well a novice’s curse attack worked on a spring queen, I am tempted to see what a true archmage can accomplish. But… No, not now.”

Tara nodded, and I turned back to the vernal king.

“Bring me everything on the list, and be glad I don’t press you for more,” I said in a flat voice.

“Continue to argue, and you’ll be contending with an insult to a Mortal King of Enchanting, his husband Lord of Fire, and his ally, a Mortal Queen of Charms,” Osheen said, casually hooking his thumbs into the pockets of his blue coat.

The spring king glanced between all of us, sizing our group up.

“I’ll need time,” he eventually said. “I can get the things on the list, but I don’t have all of them on hand.”

“You have three days, as is measured in the mortal world,” I said.

“Three weeks,” he countered.

“Seven days,” I shot back.

He nodded.

“That will be satisfactory. Did you wish to call in your second boon?”

“Not at this moment in time, but rest assured their use will be found,” I said.

There was a flash of green fire, and the vernal king was gone. I sagged in relief, and glanced at Tara and Osheen.

“Ready for the second round?” I asked.

At both of their confirmations, I began to cycle my aura into the summoning array built into my bracer, and tossed it into the center of the ward circle.

Power bloomed out of it and took the shape of a middle aged woman with tight gray hair.

“Awell Meddal,” I said, bowing slightly. “Pleasure to see you again. I admit, I expected to get someone of lower status.”

“Well, you went through all the trouble of making it an easy connection point, and even had a spring king clear the way. It was the least I could do for such hospitality.”

I inclined my head, and Awell clapped.

“Well then, what sort of assistance did you require? Oh, and are you, your husband, and your ally amenable to mutual peace for the duration of our meeting?”

“I am,” I said. Osheen nodded, but Tara shifted nervously before she agreed.

We lowered the wards, and Awell smiled. Tara tensed, but the Queen of the Breeze merely sat and gestured across from her. I sat as well, and Osheen joined, but Tara slinked around in the background, almost out of sight.

“What are you working on?” Awell asked.

“We have a weather shielding spell,” Osheen explained. “It should give us some defenses against wind and water, and keep the air fresh around us.”

“I figured that if anyone could help us tune up a weather shield to a proper defense, it would be the court of air,” I continued. “We’d like your help, and two doses of faerie court of air magic to help the modifications we make.”

“I see, I see,” she said, patting her stomach. “Well, how about this. Lunch for us all while we work. My assistance, alongside one of my Lord of Weather’s help and Lady Mellt’s help. Both are also included in our peace. And I’ll provide two reasonable sized doses of Weather Power.”

“And in return?”

“Hmm, let’s see. Three of us, so… Three times the amount of time we spend working on this, plus an equal share of human power, provided via aura crystal.”

“Contingent upon Evan being willing and able to spend the time, and that you provide the high grade aura crystals for us to fill,” Osheen threw in, and I shot him a grateful glance.

“Of course,” Awell Meddal agreed, and held her hand out. I shook it, and felt a flicker of binding magic that reminded me of a compact.

“I’ll go get us lunch,” Tara volunteered before practically sprinting out of the room. I glanced at her, wondering what made her so nervous around Awell. Osheen just chuckled, as if he knew something funny, but I didn’t get it.

Oh well. Tara wasn’t a weather mage, enchanter, or a sorcerer, so she would be working outside of her expertise anyways. I would have still liked her knowledge on the tongue of Old Bradlewyr and her general knowledge of witchcraft, but…

Awell said several things in a tongue I didn’t recognize, and a moment later, lightning blasted out of her frame. It formed into the shape of Mellt, suspended in midair, who gracefully glided down to land. Winds picked up around Awell, and a very dour looking man with hair down to his knees appeared.

“Evan, you already know Lady Mellt,” Awell said.

“Heya! You’re alive! And not a faerie either! That’s cool!” Mellt said, smiling broadly. “You have another spell to work on?!”

“And this is Lord Typhus,” Awell continued.

“An honor,” the surly Lord said.

“Indeed. Glad to see the both of you,” I said. “And yes, I do have another enchantment for us to work on.”

I started laying out the diagrams of the various attempts at the spell that I’d made, and Osheen put down the ring with the foci version of it I’d made the year before.

In a blink, we were all elbow deep in enchantment and spellwork.

Osheen was able to provide a lot of useful insight into the sections of the spell that kept the air fresh – since fire wanted to burn the most vital portions of air, there were apparently dozens of known countermeasures.

It turned into a bit of an argument between Osheen and Lord Typhus over if the language of Old Bradlewyr or Ancient Paerús was more apt for the task. In the end, they used a mashed together mix of both languages that mildly annoyed both of them, which was perhaps the best I could hope for.

Mellt stripped away almost all of the lightning shielding, and instead connected it to the cage spell she’d wagered me. I expected the removal of lightning focus would dampen the Lady of Lightning’s spirits, but she seemed happy enough, chattering on about how much power it could save.

I also wound up trading her the wands I’d made at the party for another copy of the cage spell. I didn’t regret the trade – I had components on the way, after all, and I needed a copy of the cage for Osheen’s spell anyhow.

Awell proved herself dedicated to the task as well. She made several modifications to the wind parts of the spell, changing it so that instead of forcing wind to a dead stop, it used the protean nature of wind itself in defense – turning gusts aside, dampening whirlwinds into breezes, and splitting a great wind into many smaller ones.

Once Typus stopped arguing with Osheen, he proved quite helpful at the parts of the spell that reflected away rains and the tides of water on the ground. This one spell would never be able to stretch itself to defend perfectly against all water, but it could dampen attacks made with it – hopefully enough for the other defenses to stop them. And against a storm like Theo had called down on me last year, it would be near perfect.

Even Tara was able to provide some insight, in particular with deft definitions of language.

It took us five hours to finish what was, in my estimation, a quality spell that would put the basic one Wisteria had shown me to shame.

Part of that was cheating, of course. I was blending faerie magic from the Court of Air with human magic.

But part of it was the fact we had three highly skilled Fae, an archmage, a talented sorcerer, and a competent enchanter all working together.

It was said that cooperative witchcraft was what kept Zheren’s Grande Ward working, and I’d always assumed it just meant lots of witches pulling power from lots of places and sending it to the ward.

After today, though, I had my doubts that was all there was to it.

There was so much that could be done with people working together, and Paerús squashed it to propel a few chosen people. Not even the few who showed the most promise – those who were born into it.

It made me mad, but there was nothing to do right now – but I would one day.

~~~

A few days later, I got a knock at the door. Not expecting anyone, I was a bit on edge, so I grabbed my staff and tossed on my cloak. Osheen had tensed as well, and I suspected that if I opened my third eye, I’d be able to see his magic spiraling up his arms.

I stepped forward and opened the door.

On the other side was Wisteria.

“Osheen, Evan,” she said pleasantly. “Elaine would like to speak to the both of you.”

Osheen’s tension rose again, judging from the expression on his face, and I felt the pit of my stomach fall out.

Elaine, the headmaster of Yesgol. A talented sorceress with light, sound, and force rune bonds, she’d nearly killed me my first year after I used some consumer parts and tripped a ward.

Seeing the looks on our faces, Wisteria laughed and shook her head.

“No no, nothing bad. I promise.”

Still, as she led us through the long, winding routes of Yesgol, I couldn’t shake my nerves.

Elaine’s office was… Disapointing. After seeing Travis’ office, filled with things in jars and components and enchantments, and Tara’s office, hidden behind secret mechanisms and layers of wards, my expectations for the headmaster were high.

But no. She had a very normal looking office. There wasn’t a rune from a dead language in sight, not even ward lines or glyphs.

I flicked open my third eye, and while I was able to spot a few bits of magic with it – notably a spot on the desk that seemed to combine sympathetic magic and sound arrays, which was probably how she could broadcast into our rooms – there still wasn’t exactly an abundance of magic.

That was disappointing to my mind. What was the point of being the headmaster of the greatest magical university in Paerús – admittedly a title achieved by default – without being able to lace some magic through your office?

“Ah, thank you Wisteria,” the elderly headmaster said. “Please boys, take a seat.”

She nodded to the chairs across from her desk. I studied them with my third eye, just to make sure they weren’t a trap, before sitting. Osheen waited and sat with me.

“Why did you call us here, headmaster?” Osheen asked, his tone projecting a calm I didn’t feel.

Elaine laced her fingers together and leaned forwards.

“Tell me, do either of you have any interest in teaching?”

I blinked.

“You wouldn’t be holding any advanced classes, not yet,” Elaine clarified. “But both of you have shown extraordinary growth. While I wouldn’t have expected less from Osheen, had he retained his connections, he did not.”

“Still, teaching?” I asked, dumbfounded.

Elaine sighed and unlaced her hands to run them through her hair.

“Evan, it’s… Difficult… to attract teachers here. More than half our students drop out before they can graduate and are drafted into the military. Of the half that don’t, almost all of them are noble students who already have positions lined up for them. The few that want to teach usually only want to teach a specific, niche class that aligns with their interests.”

“You recruit from the others, then,” Osheen said. “The commoners who succeed. The nobles who have been disowned. The really minor nobility.”

“Exactly,” she agreed. “And that brings us back around to you. We are prepared to offer you a reasonable salary, but the main thing that you’d gain is in our benefits. Free access to a deep root lab, to our healers, to all of the school facilities that you’ve used. Loans can be deferred for up to five years while acting as a teacher as well.”

“How long to we have to decide?” Osheen asked. “Would we get any say in our classes, or is it fully assigned? Is interest accrued during the five year period, or is it a complete deferment? How about a retirement fund, and if so, what’s the percent match, and where is it invested?”

I glanced at Osheen. I may be the superior negotiator when it came to matters of faerie affairs, but when it came to the mortal world, interest rates, and that sort of thing? It was impressive how much he knew, at least to me.

Elaine held up her hands.

“Hold on there. One at a time. You have until a month after the start of summer break to decide – you’ll need the rest to settle into your offices, get caught up on meetings, and that sort of thing. You won’t have much say, but if you feel strongly, you can talk to me. I can’t promise anything, but I will listen. As for deferment…”

It took them a while to go through all of Osheen’s questions, which became increasingly financial and contractual in nature, talking about indemnification and conduct clauses.

I tried to help, but there wasn’t much I could do. In some ways, I wished I was dealing with a fae contract instead – at least those I just had to rely on figuring out what the faerie wanted, and what I could afford to give.

Eventually the contract talk wound down, and Osheen and I left the room.

“What do you think?” I asked him. “You understood it better than I did.”

“It’s a reasonable offer,” he said. “You could probably make more money if you just sold spell bottles to the highest bidder, though.”

“And I have to think about anxiety,” I said. “I can manage a small class, maybe. But a group of thirty is going to be… Hard. And if she wants me to host general magecraft? No way. Not that I’m qualified to teach general magecraft, but my point stands.”

Osheen shot me an odd look, and I frowned.

“What? You know how I get. I’ve gotten better, yes, a lot better, but…”

“No, not that,” Osheen said, shaking his head. “What makes you think you’re not qualified to teach general magecraft? Didn’t you already read the entire textbook, front to back?”

“Well, yeah,” I said. “But that’s just a textbook. It’s not real.”

“And aren’t you practically running along the edge of being a druid?” Osheen continued. “Even ignoring your… gift… from the spring queen, you would have been getting close to it.”

“Well, kind of,” I said. “I don’t know much about portal magic or summoning arrays, but I know a little. It’s just not really been the most interesting part – I much prefer seeing what I can do with multiple systems working together.”

“And haven’t you been practicing some of the basic aura techniques, like a sorcerer?” Osheen asked.

“I’ve done some of the ones you showed me on the carriage ride,” I said. “But I’ve been pretty busy.”

I held up my hands to preempt the comment that I knew was coming.

“I know, I know. It’s important, especially given the way it interacts with my new… Boon.”

We were walking in the halls, rather than the privacy of our room or one of Tara’s safe spaces, so I didn’t want to admit I’d awoken a fourth arch-star.

“But I just haven’t had the time,” I said. “I could squeeze it in while we’re spending time together, but I don’t want to do that.”

“That’s sweet,” Osheen said. “But… Hmm. How about practicing during the crafting club?”

Usually I spent my time in the club working on designs for my seven sets of seven defense, but I supposed that I could shift things around some, especially since I’d gotten to the point where that was actually getting close to finishing – the design phase, that was. The actual building and charging… I didn’t know.

“Alright,” I agreed, then I noticed Osheen giving me a look. “What?”

“We do have free time right now,” he said.

Oh no.

We made our way to one of the many empty classrooms in the school and I lit my meager aura. Osheen lit his – much more impressive – aura, and started making a basic folding motion.

That was basically the technique that he’d shown me the first time we’d ever talked about it, so I mimicked it without much difficulty.

“How hard is that for you?” Osheen asked.

“I don’t know?” I said. “That’s a weird thing to quantify. It’s not… hard. But it’s not easy?”

“On a scale of one to ten,” Osheen said.

“An eight?” I said.

“An eight?!” Osheen asked. “I thought you said it wasn’t hard.”

“Beautiful boyfriend, light of my life… Did you make it so that ten is the most effort?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Why would it be any other way?”

“Because ten is a nice number,” I said. “It’s the base for our system. One is a rude number, it’s small and mean. So in your system, I guess I’d say a two or three.”

“No, ten is the hardest because it’s the biggest,” Osheen insisted.

“Nope,” I said.

“Like the mineral hardness scale,” Osheen said.

“That scale is wrong,” I said adamantly.

“I think that this is just your brain being twisted around,” Osheen said. “I think everyone would agree that ten is the biggest, and thus, the hardest. But anyways… The next exercise, spread apart your aura to make it as thin as possible, then try and snap it back together.”

He demonstrated, stretching out his aura like a band of rubber, then allowing it to spring together.

That one took a bit more effort, but after half an hour or so of effort, I was able to get it down, after which the next step was to do the two motions at the same time, folding it on an x axis while stretching and springing it on the y axis.

That one I couldn’t get, despite Osheen making it look absolutely easy, and I found myself having to re-evaluate whether or not my opinion on sorcerers was entirely fair.

I’d always known Osheen was smart from the moment me met, and a small part of the back of my mind had wondered if he might have been wasted as a sorcerer, rather than a witch. After all, witch magic was complex to me, while I tended to think of sorcerers' magic as rather… thuggish.

Like a club. It wasn’t that a club was a bad weapon, but it wasn’t one that took a whole lot of skill to manage to swing one.

And that opinion of sorcery might have held true for the terrible sorcerers who made up the weakest levels of the magic, like the terrible mages who’d been sent to capture Finnalir, Emilia, Osheen, and myself.

But as I watched Osheen effortlessly split his aura into twelve different threads and braid them into four cords, then braid those four cords into a single rope, all while keeping the threads folding in on themselves in a strangely circular motion and remaining independent threads…

I had severely underestimated all the work it took to be a competent and powerful sorcerer.

“What?” Osheen asked. “You’ve been staring.”

“Just thinking. There’s a lot of work that goes into this.”

“Did you think being a sorcerer was easy?” Osheen asked. “This is the easy part.”

I smiled sheepishly.

“That easy? I knew it wasn’t easy, exactly, but I thought of it as just a lot of memorizing. Sorry.”

Osheen shrugged.

“Most people do. But there’s a lot more to it than just what you can pack into your mind’s eye.”

We spent a while more talking, and I apologized several more times, before we finally headed off for lunch.