138 – Amplify

Vivi suspected the Archbishop already knew why she’d come to him. Her comment earlier about a city suffering soul damage didn’t seem like the kind of thing he would mentally gloss over, regardless of whether he had addressed it then. She had also stated that the Fell Apostate had attacked Prismarche. It didn’t take a genius to put the two data points together.

Still, her previous misstep made her doubly determined to get to the point. “The Fell Apostate orchestrated a ritual above Prismarche to tear open a portal to the void. Though I don’t know the specifics of how he managed that—”

She stopped herself in the nick of time from adding ‘yet.’ There were seven huge bone shards locked up in Vanguard’s vault which she was actively studying. She wanted to know how the Fell Apostate had accomplished what he had. But given her previous discussion with the Archbishop, he might find the idea of such research… upsetting.

“—they suffered soul damage on a city-wide scale,” she said, self-correcting. “While the worst outcome was avoided, the citizens there were hurt. I’m not particularly capable at healing, so I’ll need your assistance.”

Augustine took her explanation in stride. “I would say that I’m flattered by your overestimation of my abilities, but I doubt you’ve done any such thing. What role do I fill in these plans?”

“The largest one. I have an artifact that amplifies spellcasting capabilities. The burden will be almost entirely on you.”

Augustine’s eyebrows rose. “Immensely powerful artifacts do exist, Lady Sorceress,” he said slowly. “Wondrous items that might double or even triple a mage’s channeling power. But to cure a city of soul damage? I would need more than three, or ten, or a hundred times the power that I currently possess. Soul damage is invasive. Delicate to heal. Never mind on such a scale.” His brow furrowed. “And yet I also know I’ve said nothing that could be a surprise to you.”

“Yes. You’re right.”

She hesitated. As much as she wanted to be direct with Augustine, dumping the Codex on his desk with no warning would be unwise. Rafael had outright advised her not to. She had noticed how menacing the book was—it was themed after the first Cataclysm. An aesthetic the Archbishop seemed like he might be especially sensitive to.

So, some lead-up was in order.

“I received a Quest reward upon reforming Vanguard,” she began. “It allows me to store my own mana, and another mage can tap into that reservoir.”

She let the man digest the statement. While priests and mages saw the world—and magic—differently, they operated under many similar restrictions. Priests couldn’t lend their magical strength to another person; that simply wasn’t how mana worked.

And while Augustine was old and experienced, and thus knew more about the world than most—and must have seen ‘impossibilities’ before—that depth of knowledge could easily work against him. Someone so well-versed in his field would always be surprised to see established fact suddenly overturned. Perhaps more than novices.

“Is that so?” he eventually said. “An item that allows the sharing of mana. An incredible artifact indeed.”

“I also confirmed that priests can use it without issue,” she continued. “Divine energies supply themselves to the claimed mana just as naturally as if they were pulled from your own core, at least so far as I understand the process. Hollis, from the Roving Justicar’s party, helped me discover that. I’m not sure if you two know each other.”

“We do,” Augustine said, though idly, his thoughts obviously occupied with the Codex’s nature. “You received this simply for reforming your guild?”

“Yes.”

He appraised her quietly for a long moment, face becoming, as it had many times before, hard to read. “Then you are the favored daughter of the heavens indeed.”

She was briefly lost for words. Was there some sort of implication in that statement? Either way, she could hardly disagree with the sentiment. If the heavens were real, then what was she if not the System’s chosen champion against the void? And the System was heavenly by almost all interpretations.

As it should be, given what it is.

“In any case,” Augustine said when the silence stretched a second longer than was comfortable, “this is great news. I consider it an honor to purge the misdeeds of that foul creature, and to heal the undeserving bystanders.” He rubbed his chin. “What is your other request?”

“Similar in nature, but smaller,” Vivi said. “My butler’s student has a sick brother. Blighted.”

That one word explained what it needed to. “Incurable,” he remarked. “Except perhaps with the Sorceress’s mana, wielded by a healer. I see.”

Well. She still debated the claim of ‘incurable.’ Some creativity mixed with enormous amounts of mana and magical expertise could solve almost anything. But ‘almost’ wasn’t ‘all,’ and she hadn’t confirmed any of her other theories. So maybe the Archbishop was right.

Vivi said, “That’s correct. I would be incredibly grateful if you could help me.”

“With how much the world owes the Sorceress,” he said dryly, “what self-respecting man would deny the request? Or any request of yours?” The rhetorical question made her immensely uncomfortable, almost enough for her to show it visibly. “And more to the point,” he said, “I would ask you if I were allowed to pursue such potential. If Blight can be healed…”

He trailed off for a long moment, then shook his head.

“Then it should be. A worthy venture on its own merit. It would give me time to acclimate to the artifact before the presumably more challenging task as well. Even with your mana, a city of damaged souls will be a substantial problem. To say the very least.” He nodded. “Well, then. Might I see it?”

Stolen story; please report.

In another body, she would’ve grimaced in anticipation. She supposed she’d given as much prep time as she could.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Think nothing of it.”

Holding a hand out, she mentally delved into her inventory and found the item in question.

The Codex of the Hollowed Sun dropped into her grip.

Made of some unknown, polished black stone and marked with a hollowed-out silver sun on its front, the Codex intimidated by appearance alone. But the sight of it held a distant second place to what her other senses warned her of by being in the book’s vicinity. Saffra herself had said that she could feel its hungry aura, and Vivi assumed the Archbishop was more in tune with his supernatural intuitions than a novice mage.

Indeed, Augustine stiffened as he felt the Codex’s presence fill the room. His lips pressed into a white line as he scrutinized the book. A long moment passed, with Vivi starting to grow concerned, before he finally turned his gaze up.

His tone was flat. “A quest reward?”