40 – The Thaumaturgical Institute

When Saffra slunk down the stairs the next morning, she was sneaking strange looks at Vivi. A few minutes into their breakfast, Vivi had to ask. She put her fork down.

“Okay. What is it?”

Saffra jumped. “What? What is what?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Me? I’m not looking at you like anything. Um.” She squirmed with her gaze flitting shiftily around. She blurted out, “So, what’s the plan today?”

Vivi wasn’t sure what had prompted the behavior, but she set her curiosity aside. Her discussion with Tilly had made it clear that trying to pry something out of Saffra would be counterproductive at best, and harmful at worst.

“The Institute, primarily,” Vivi said. “I need to meet someone there. You can join me, or not. It’s your choice.”

Saffra stiffened, then forced herself to relax. “I might be recognized by someone.”

“I’ll use an [Illusion].”

After a long moment, Saffra mumbled, “I think I’d rather just not.”

A short silence. “That’s fine too. But just so you know, I’ll be busy today.”

She had a laundry list of tasks, the prioritized order being: visiting the Institute, addressing William’s imprisonment, contacting one of Vanguard’s prior craftsmen to complete the Quest, and putting together a set of gear for Saffra. She wanted to take Saffra hunting afterward, since practical experience was as important to progress as academic study. Levels were nothing to scoff at, even if fundamental skill mattered too.

“How’s [Scorchlance] coming?”

Saffra happily accepted the change in topic. “Getting close to invocation, I think. It’s a tricky spell.”

“Certainly more complex than the ones I saw in your grimoire,” Vivi agreed. “Many times more efficient too. You’ll be pleased by the result.”

Saffra perked up. “I bet.” Her voice grew excited. “It’s tier four, and one of your spells. It’ll totally be worth the headache.”

Vivi smiled—internally, at least. Her body was ever reluctant to show such emotions. “At a minimum, I’ll set aside a few hours each day to continue your lessons.” While busy, she’d been serious about her promise to train Saffra, even if she had bigger-picture goals that demanded her attention. “This evening, probably. Is there anything you need from me before I go?”

Saffra shook her head.

“You’ll be staying here?” Vivi asked.

“No plans,” she responded with a one-shoulder shrug. “I’ll just keep practicing.”

“Once you reach invocation, I’ll take you hunting.” Scraping the last of her food into her mouth, she finished her plate, set her fork down, and stood. “Try not to get into trouble.”

Saffra gave her a dubious look, and she didn’t need to voice her thoughts aloud for Vivi to know what she meant.

“And I’ll try to do the same,” she replied dryly.

How much of a debacle could she really get into, visiting one of the world’s strongest archmages?

***

The Thaumaturgical Institute towered over Meridian from the far south of the city, visible at every street corner. A titanic slab composed of polished white bricks speared upward, at least a hundred stories tall. Suspended walkways fanned out from the central tower, elegant sky-bridges connecting it to dozens of annexes and observatories. The structure was a miracle of magical engineering defying at least a dozen natural laws of architecture.

But the building’s impressive construction took second place to the greatest achievement of the campus. The Institute featured a true crowning jewel that made it a wonder the world over. The tower rested on a floating chunk of earth a quarter-mile in diameter, the monolith of dirt and stone straining to break free from the gargantuan taut-drawn chains securing it to the ground. It floated a mere fifty feet—not far, hardly a true sky island like those found in the Sky-Pillar Range, yet a miracle of magic nonetheless.

There was no seeming intent behind the enchantment and barely-airborne chunk of land besides, undoubtedly, the collective instinct of mages everywhere to show off. Which Vivi secretly approved of.

The game’s lore had never explained who had created the anti-gravity enchantment, or how. As she took a magical elevator upward, she found her thoughts churning, developing a solution of her own. It would be an undertaking indeed, to create an enchantment on that level that could hold for centuries. Even she wouldn’t have the requisite mana…maybe.

While she was perhaps the world’s strongest individual mage, there was a quality in quantity, and the alumni of the Institute—which represented near all of humanity by proxy—could work miracles through the wonder of collaboration. Which was why she’d outsourced the dimensional anomaly to those men and women. They would be far more capable of deciphering its secrets than she.

The elevator slowed and shuddered to a stop. The attendant lifted the rope from its brass hook to let her pass. She stepped onto the Institute’s campus, and her eyes drifted upward—neck craning to see the top. The tower was even more impressive up close.

Saffra would have made a useful guide here, but Vivi wouldn’t insist she join and potentially run into old friends and enemies for something so trivial. She could find her own way around. It was probably for the best she had declined the offer anyway, since Vivi intended to investigate Saffra’s expulsion, and speaking with Archmage Aeris would require privacy.

Rafael had arranged the meeting under the fake identity of Nysari Keresi, a visiting demonic noblewoman of the First Blood. A much more inconspicuous name for a demon than ‘Vivienne’, she would admit. Unsurprisingly, he had a better instinct for subterfuge than she.

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So far as demonic social structure went, belonging to the First Blood made Nysari someone the Institute couldn’t ignore—even with so little notice and for one as prominent as Archmage Aeris. The First Blood was equivalent to, if not acting as the head of, at least being from a ducal family. Rafael would have sought a higher title if not for how impossible arranging an identity of even the First Blood had been. He’d had many years to plant and foster those seeds, and had secured permission from the Keresi family themselves.

Rafael had informed her during discussions yesterday that Vivisari, in acknowledgement of her accomplishments during the Cataclysm Campaigns, had been elevated from Second Blood to honorary Primogenitor’s Blood. Which made her, unfortunately, a demonic princess by title. She was still coming to terms with that. Taking on the mantle of Vivisari was going to be a serious headache.

She had debated how to approach Aeris. Whether she should visit without a disguise. But Rafael, interestingly, had advised against that. He’d told her that catching someone by surprise gave invaluable insight into their character. Aeris’s reaction might be revealing. Rafael didn’t seem to mistrust him, but neither did the opposite appear true. Vivi suspected there was no one Rafael trusted implicitly. Maybe not even her. She’d certainly gotten the impression that even the craftsmen weren’t free from his scrutiny.