~Chapter Thirty-Three: Purification~

The conversation between Madame Reyanna and Instructor Tarik bounced around in Eola’s head as she slipped into the back of the gnome’s classroom for Mana Studies. She knew, intellectually speaking, that her best move was to forget it had even happened. She couldn’t do anything about the Governing Houses or the Cult of Y’aer. She couldn’t do anything to help her parents. All she could do was keep learning—and that meant, in the longer term, staying at Varin’s Academy.

In the short term, it also meant putting up with whatever Madame Reyanna had in mind for today’s lesson.

“Attention, students,” the professor said from her podium. Today, she had it set up near the chalkboard, a piece of chalk at the ready. In the far corner, a gigantic tarp hung from ceiling to floor, covering something. “Today, we are going to start a touch differently. So far, most of you haven’t been foolish enough to go past the library’s second floor. Most of you.”

Eola blushed. No one knew why she’d missed classes before the mid-term exams—no one but the professors, librarians, and, presumably, the headmaster. Even so, Madame Reyanna’s locked eyes were as good an accusation as if she’d said Eola’s name. Her face burned as the professor continued.

“However, the end-of-term examination is coming up, and it has fallen on me to introduce the first-years to its particulars. In one month, you will have put together a team of four first-year students, with the intent of entering the third floor. Some of you are quite talented at dueling. However, you’ll need more than swordplay and Child’s Magic to pass this examination.

“As such, for the next three weeks, we will begin learning basic purification.” Now, Madame Reyanna’s chalk began moving across the chalkboard, drawing a diagram of swirling arrows and pathways across a body’s outline. “One detail that many mages fail to realize about dungeoneering is that the Mana within a dungeon is, by default, impure. Y’aer intended for the world’s Mana to be pure under normal circumstances, but they did not take into account dungeons. The library, being a dungeon, is no exception to this rule.”

“But how does the academy use dungeon Mana, then?” a student asked.

“Miss Emory, that is an excellent question. The nature of the spire’s structure assists with that. Marble, much like chromite, is a slightly Mana-resistant material. In large quantities, it becomes impermeable, allowing for Third Order purifying magic to be concentrated at the library’s main gateway. You, however, are not Archmages. Most of you aren’t even up to Journeymage. As such, you cannot rely on powerful spells.”

The chalk drawing continued. “Instead, you will need to use your Mana lines to draw in dungeon Mana in small enough quantities that the impurities are overwhelmed by your soul’s Mana reserves. This will spread those impurities throughout your entire pool, limiting the damage done. I say limiting, not negating. Be aware of that.”

“That doesn’t sound like purification,” Colin said skeptically. Eola nodded, but kept her head down while she did it. The last thing she needed was more conflict with Madame Reyanna.

To her surprise, though, the professor nodded seriously. “It doesn’t, does it? True purification is impossible at Journeymage and under. Even Truemages can struggle to maintain their souls in dungeon environments if they’re exposed to impure Mana for too long. However, even a badly planned trip to the library’s third floor should only last a day or two at most. Using this method, a mage should be able to last that long without long-term damage, even with combat stress.”

Eola squeezed her eyes closed, forcing herself to breathe. Her whole body felt stiff, tight, like a compressed spring waiting to be released. She needed a distraction. Something—anything—to get her thinking about something besides dungeons and impure Mana. She hadn’t realized…why hadn’t she realized?

Lord Card’s dungeon. Her parents.

“So, how do we practice it?” Catrine asked.

“I’m so glad you asked.” Madame Reyanna hopped off her ladder and strode across the room to the gigantic tarp in the corner. It fell away, revealing…a cage.

Its bars were solid chromite, the metal shining in the Bright Ball-lit classroom, and glass filled every space between them. No, not glass. As Eola stared, a murmuring built up around the room.

“Is that…topaz?” a boy’s voice cut through the whispers.

“It is. This device is designed to simulate the interior of a dungeon, complete with impure Mana.” Madame Reyanna smirked. “The Cult of Y’aer would normally be adamantly opposed to the dungeon box, but Varin’s Academy has had it since its founding, and as a legacy magical item, it is far beyond the normal purview of the cult. Each of you will enter the dungeon box with two others, will spend no more than a minute practicing the purification process, and then will return to your seats to refresh your Mana. Understood?”

The murmuring turned into a ragged chorus of affirmations, and Eola closed her eyes again as she tried to focus on the task ahead of her. Purification. The process Madame Reyanna had drawn on the board would fail eventually, but the professor was right. It’d be good enough for a day or two.

Would it be enough for four years, though? Five? Impossible. And neither Eola’s mother nor her father was an archmage. And yet, her mother’s breastplate still adjusted itself to Eola’s chest every time she put it on. The ensorcellment on her sword and armor still worked. They were still alive—and if they were still alive in that dungeon after four years, there was a better technique out there.

And then there was the Scholar’s Cult. They lived in Varin’s Academy’s library full-time, and they survived. If they could do it, so could her parents. They had to be alive. They had to be.

But Eola couldn’t keep wasting time. She had to reach Journeymage, then Truemage.

Colin and two others went into the box, and Eola watched as they expelled enough Mana to allow the impure stuff into their souls, then tried to ‘purify’ it. This wasn’t really purification. More…dilution. It’d work for a while, though.

That’d be good enough. For her, not for them. But for her.

Eola gritted her teeth and forced herself not to think about her parents.

Anything but her parents.

The third floor. That was a much safer topic. She’d spent some time there, and the impure Mana had barely been noticeable, but—no, not good enough. The team. She could focus on the team.

It’d be Patrice, Colin, and Roth. Instructor Tarik had all but made that decision for them by putting them together, but even if he hadn’t, there wouldn’t have been anyone but Colin and Patrice that Eola could trust with her attunement—and with the spell-chains she was creating. And if it was going to be the four of them, they weren’t ready. Instructor Tarik was right about that much.

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The purification process was…surprisingly calming.

Eola spent her entire time in the dungeon box expelling Mana as fast as she could, pouring impure Mana into her soul through Mana lines she still didn’t believe existed, and shaking the champagne bottle as hard as she could to dilute the impurities throughout her entire soul. It felt like the Mana that had flooded into her during her first trip to the third floor, and for the first time, Eola was truly thankful for her strange attunement.

The other two students who’d gone in with her looked sick by the time they’d finished. Both boys were pale and shaking, and she had to physically help one of them out of the door. But her own attunement, it seemed, gave her some resistance to impure Mana. It was almost like it affected unattuned Mana less, or like the act of attuning Mana was a point of vulnerability.

Either way, she’d do her best to continue practicing purification. It was still useful, even if the third floor’s Mana wasn’t bad enough to really affect her.

That evening, after Instructor Tarik was done with them, Eola cleared her throat over a bowl of sausage and rice soup. The smell was unbelievable—almost as good as Ursula’s stew at the Chubby Saber—but she needed the other’s attention, and she needed it now.

“We have four weeks,” she said quietly. “Instructor Tarik is right. We’re not ready for what I saw on the third floor. Not if we keep doing what we’re doing.”

“So what do you want to do about it?” Roth asked.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Eola said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out four sheets of parchment, sliding one to each of her friends, then spreading the last one in front of her.

Eola Lemiene

– Strengths: swordplay, experience with third floor

– Weaknesses: higher-Order magic, endurance

– Area of Focus: dueling, defending Colin, spell theory (incomplete idea)

“What is this?” Patrice asked, eyes narrowing. Roth didn’t say anything, but his glare deepened heavily.