Chapter 184 – The Druid

As soon as Viridian was done with his dramatic proclamation, the room erupted into conversation. Mirian sat in her chair, thinking. Luspire was rubbing his forehead like he had a headache. Torres had gone pale. Jei was sitting there stoically like someone had just told her the weather would be overcast. Holvatti and Atger had begun to shout some sort of counter-argument that involved flaws in methodology, while Runer and Endresen argued back at them. There were, Mirian knew, various petty feuds among the professors, though she had deliberately tried to avoid learning about them because they seemed so infantile.

Mirian went back through the illusion displays. She had no doubt in her mind that Viridian was right. The leylines might fluctuate in energy naturally, but there was no historical precedent for a disaster like this. The arcane energy had come from somewhere, and the question of spell engine leakage had been a longstanding one.

What she didn’t need was to get a headache from incessant bickering.

“Enough,” she said, amplifying her voice.

The room turned to her.

“Viridian, how long does it take for an arcane energy buildup like this?”

“I believe there’s an ecological component to this, too,” he said calmly. “The disruptions in myrvite populations are also contributing to the energy buildups, though I can only say how that works on the local organisms here. At the current rate? Perhaps a decade.”

Mirian let out a breath she’d been holding. “That changes the equation. We don’t need to end spell engine usage overnight. But we will need to drastically curtail its usage, then find a way to dissipate energy buildup faster than more energy is being added. This still doesn’t help us actually solve the current crisis, just prevent the next one.”

“But there can be no other way to move that much arcane energy!” Holvatti protested. “We have to use spell engines to do it.”

Torres glared at him. “And every ten spell engines we used would require us to use another eight spell engines to compensate for their output. Neither the fossilized myrvite supply nor the industry of either Akana or Baracuel can handle such a task. New problems require new solutions.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Atger said.

“Professor Atger, kindly leave this room,” Mirian said, voice calm but deadly.

“What? I—”

Luspire rolled his eyes. “Do it, Jurrian. And next time, don’t act like a child.”

Jurrian Atger looked around the table, then went beet red. He angrily scooched back his chair then left.

As the door closed, Jei spoke. “The reason a wand conduit works is because it allows no other path for the arcane energy. This lets casters get sloppy with energy manipulation, which is bad. But it also shows us that arcane energy, once in conduit of sufficient capacity, can be redirected without external energy. This is the theoretical basis to proceed.”

Torres said something to Jei in Gulwenen, and she replied. Torres stood. “I agree with Song. Research in conduit formation and the design of passive siphon-conduits must be our priority. Sefora and Holvatti, you could collaborate to test for new conduits that might be able to more efficiently carry the arcane force. Jei and I can work on the design of a passive conduit.”

Mirian sighed. “This isn’t the first cycle we’ve done something like this. Seneca, you’ve already tried a lot of crystal variations, using a device from the Labyrinth that can grow perfect crystals every time. None of them have beat corundum.” Mirian hesitated. “Though I do have a theory. Just as small inclusions can change corundum from sapphire to ruby, perhaps orichalcum or mythril inclusions can increase corundum’s arcane capacity. There are still plenty of things to test.” She surveyed the room. “Archmage, I would like you to lead the efforts on the Divine Monument. And I’d like you to bring Endresen into the project.”

She continued, assigning roles that would change up the dynamics from previous cycles. As long as initial conditions changed, so would their thinking, and they might find something new.

Finally, she ended with, “And Viridian, we need to talk.”

Viridian’s eyes sparkled. “Of course,” he said.

***

As the denizens of the Academy scurried about, Mirian met Viridian in the Myrvite Studies secure area. He seemed surprised when she had a glyphkey already.

“The Akanan spies have them. I usually take one for convenience if I’m sticking around Torrviol.”

“Ah,” Viridian said. “Do I actually need to explain any part of this building to you?”

“No.”

“That simplifies things. You are familiar with soul magic?”

“Of course.”

“Excellent. No doubt, a priest has told you that you need a focus to do soul magic?”

“Yes, but I know you can manipulate your own soul with internal bindings like what Marva does, and with dervish forms.”

“Ah,” Viridian said. He looked a bit disappointed.

“I’m quite used to discovering things I’ve been taught are wrong at this point. If you’d like, I can pretend to be surprised when you reveal whatever it is you’re getting at.”

“No, no, that’s alright.” He let out a big sigh. “Well, I’ve spent a great deal more time researching and practicing druidic magic than came out in my heresy trial. Just a suggestion, but if you end up reforming the Luminate Order, could you do something about the ridiculous necromancy laws?”

“Already part of the plan,” Mirian assured him.

“Good, good. Conceptually, the druidic practices are straightforward. With training, you can manipulate your soul to interact with the soul of a live myrvite. Through tapping into its catalyst while it lives, you can influence both its soul and magic. It was developed by a society that had access neither to catalyst refinement techniques nor soul focuses. To be honest, it may end up being of little use to you, given how much more efficient runes and glyphs are for casting multiple spells. I simply find the practice fascinating, though.”

“Not everything we learn has a use that is immediately apparent.”

“Quite true.”

They walked into the greenhouse. Mirian noticed that there were enchantments everywhere. No doubt they needed constant charging. “You’ve already put your theory into practice,” she noted. “No spell engines here.”

“I had to twist Medius’s arm about that, but he eventually relented. When I started growing rare myrvite flora that Academy could sell to fund its other operations, the good Archmage gave me a lot more of a free reign. And we had already agreed he wouldn’t discuss how I did it. Obviously, you’ve picked up on the method.”

“You communicate directly with their souls,” she guessed. “This helps you figure out exactly what a plant needs to flourish without having to extensively test environmental conditions.”

“Precisely. My, you must have had quite a good teacher,” he said, winking.

Stolen story; please report.

Mirian laughed. “You’re in quite the mood,” she said.

“My dear, when you’ve been cast out of polite society for your controversial research, and then the very herald of the Gods comes and vindicates you, it’s a very nice feeling.”

“Yes, it must be.”

They arrived at a section in the greenhouse full of jelly bells of different colors. To their left were several fireweeds, and to their right, violet wispsorrows.

“We’ll start with jelly bells. Best to use something harmless. Just remember not to lick your hand after touching them,” he said.