14 – Rift

Vivi hadn’t intended to pick up an apprentice. The buzz of alcohol wasn’t even to blame for her quick decision, like with [Grand Fireworks].

Speaking of that—the spell had been spectacular. She had certainly accomplished her goal of putting on a show. Too much so. The resulting explosion had shocked even her. At least she hadn’t hurt anyone. As far as semi-drunken mistakes went, things could have gone worse.

She told Saffra to enjoy the festival and meet up with her in the Adventurer’s Guild in the morning. The prospect of apprenticeship warranted a longer conversation, but only after Vivi had her wits about her and time to think. Saffra seemed shell-shocked that Vivi had accepted, and had obeyed with surprisingly little protest. She’d asked no further questions, just shuffled off, too stunned to speak.

Vivi wasn’t sure whether she’d made the right decision. Her logic was sound: Having a pseudo-apprentice to answer questions while getting her bearings would be useful.

But more importantly, Saffra hadn’t had the easiest life. Anyone could see that. The presumable lack of parents, the attitude, how she was a fully-fledged adventurer despite being somewhere around thirteen. And most relevantly of all, how she’d seen through those two monsters despite no one else in the Adventurer’s Guild having a clue.

Despite her past, though, Saffra was constantly looking to help people. First Allen, then Daisy. Of course Vivi would agree to teaching her a few things. She had made it clear she might not be a suitable teacher, and that this might not be a ‘full apprenticeship’ like what she expected, but if Vivi could help the girl, she would.

She normally did her best to avoid responsibilities, but this was an extenuating circumstance. Saffra needed someone to look after her. Make sure she didn’t run into another disaster like what had happened earlier today. Somehow, Vivi intuited it wasn’t the first horrible thing she’d seen, or the second. She had bounced back too quickly, and been too quick to recognize the truth of what Lailah and her partner were.

Maybe there was one more reason she had agreed. Vivi, too, had been on her own from an early age. Maybe she empathized with the girl’s situation.

She returned to the celebrations, though much of the revelry had drained from her, and having determined not to drink any more, she found herself slinking away to more private locations: namely a rooftop near where a band was playing, the noises booming off in all directions, magically amplified.

She was lying, tapping her foot with her eyes closed as she enjoyed the festival from the more comfortable safety of her secluded hiding spot, when she discovered that the night had one more surprise in store.

Crack.

Something broke. Eyes snapping open, she scrambled to her feet. It invoked that kind of dawning horror a person might feel seeing a friend slip off a ledge and hear something of theirs go crunch.

Something bad had happened. Something terrible. Ruinous.

Above, the starlit night sky had shattered like a hammer striking a pane of glass. Black and violet fractures spread out like spiderwebs in all directions.

Vivi’s staff was already summoned and outstretched. She braced herself for what might happen, but…

That was it.

The festivities continued. Peace Day didn’t come to a burning, screeching halt. No one cried out or screamed. Indeed, she alone seemed to recognize what had happened.

It was magical in origin. The festival-goers couldn’t see the starry night shattered into a million pieces. Could other mages? Surely the higher-tier ones. There was no way what had happened had flown completely under the radar.

When she was certain the phenomenon was just the ice cracking, but not the entire lake she was standing on about to collapse, she relaxed and studied the disaster’s mana signature.

It was…dimensional in origin, she realized. If there was one branch of magic that even Vivisari was a beginner in—and yes, she meant Vivisari, not her, Vivienne—it was dimensional magic. She had more experience even with meddling with time, and only thanks to the campaigns involving the Shattered Oracle.

In fact, it was those memories that the image above reminded her of. The Shattered Oracle’s experiments that had driven him mad and turned him into a Cataclysm millennia ago. His tinkering with magics best left alone.

Except on a grander scale. The shattering spanned the entirety of Prismarche. What in God’s name had happened here?

When she was certain reality wasn’t about to collapse, she released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

It looked like the festival was over. For her, at least. The revelry continued below with no signs of stopping.

After a moment’s consideration, she went to find the Guard Captain. That seemed like a logical first step. She had no idea how to go about evacuation if it were necessary, or what the standard procedure for a ‘nascent calamity’ was.

The guards at the nearest gatehouse were happy to point her his way. While she’d been under scrutiny earlier, she had captured two of the worst sorts of criminals, so she had the City Guard’s respect. Even if it was a wary sort.

The Guard Captain was in his office. He was too high up the hierarchy to be doing anything as mundane as patrolling, yet, ironically, not low enough he could be excused to enjoy the festival on a night as important as this.

He was already on his feet when a guard escorted her in. “Lady Adventurer,” he said smoothly, but with obvious concern for her unexpected presence. “I’m afraid the supply requisition is still underway, but we should—”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“You haven’t gotten a report?”

His brow furrowed. “For…the fireworks spell, I presume?”

She stared at him, then cleared her throat. “Not that. Who’s the highest level mage in the city right now?”

He studied her for a moment, then his attention seemed to sharpen. He could sense that something was off. This was a man not unused to taking action, so while most people would have needed time to adjust to the scenario, he replied seamlessly, “There is an orichalcum rank, but we have no means of contacting him quickly, if this is urgent.”

She grimaced—mentally, at least. Her face remained serene as always. “Who can you contact, of a reasonable level?”

“The guard keeps a magical consultant on standby for major events such as today. Marcus Caldwick. Over level seven hundred, and Institute educated, if that matters.”

“Seven hundred? That’s it?”

His eyebrows shot to his hairline, and she dismissed the incoming exchange with a flick of her wrist. Yes, yes, her perspective was skewed.

“Never mind. Lead me to him. Hopefully that’s high enough.”

“For what, might I ask?”

Vivi looked up at the ceiling, through the layers of stone and toward the enormous mana currents lingering in the air. The anomaly was stable. There didn’t seem to be a need for urgency, but neither was she going to dawdle considering the scale of what they were dealing with.

The Guard Captain followed her gaze, seeming confused.

“There’s an anomaly. I’m the only one who can see it from what I can tell. I want another mage of reasonably high level to confirm.”

The Guard Captain opened his mouth, probably to seek further clarification, but when Vivi glanced at the ceiling again, he closed it. He nodded. “Please, follow me.”

A few minutes later, they were in a different office. Marcus stood at the unexpected intrusion of the Guard Captain.

“Ah,” the dark-haired boy said, seeming highly interested when he saw Vivi come in. “You must be the visiting mage Captain Soren mentioned. It’s nice to—”

“Can I teleport you?” she interrupted.

“Er,” Marcus said, glancing at the Guard Captain.