Chapter 188 – Digging A Hole

When Mirian at last left her meeting with Liuan Var, she went back to the hole she’d made to ‘hide’ her spellbook and rapier. She found someone had already dug up the hole, then had tried to make it look like they hadn’t. As I thought. She had people looking to learn what kind of spells I know. She had a lie prepared for if Liuan asked, but if she didn’t bring it up, Mirian wouldn’t. Likely, the orders had been given when she still wasn’t sure if she trusted Mirian.

And if she was hiding from Troytin, then such paranoia served her well. She was probably as nervous as I was. As far as she could tell, Liuan’s story lined up. It explained the challenges Troytin had in mobilizing Akana Praediar. It meant that there would have been both Specter and a Prophet making sure to keep him away from soul magic.

It also meant Liuan was well-practiced in manipulating events from the shadows. From what Mirian could tell, she’d been incredibly cautious before emerging to obviously influence events. Hopefully, she could put that expertise to good use.

The emotions swirled in Mirian. An ally. After all this time. And better yet, one who already was starting to master Akana Praediar and could stop the war. It wasn’t just a relief for when the final cycle came—however many decades away that was—but it would be immediately applicable. If Endresen was right about how the cycles worked, the energy used to reset the loop was essentially the same, no matter how long the loop had persisted, so two extra days per cycle would simply be more time to solve the apocalypse. The longer they had to propagate changes, the bigger an effect they could have.

One ally was worth far more than the three days removing Liuan’s temporal anchor would give Mirian. She would still be careful. Troytin’s lesson had burrowed far too deep into her mind for her to abandon caution. But she had an ally.

Now, she wanted another one.

The problem was that Ibrahim got to talk to Atroxcidi first. That meant he could tell the arch-necromancer anything he wanted. If he wanted to convince him Mirian needed to have her soul destroyed, he would find a way to do that. Despite her growth in power, Atroxici had surpassed 150 myr back during the Unification War. He’d had over a hundred years to become even more powerful. Now that she could see what 127 myr could do, she was even more afraid of that kind of power.

She needed to find a way to sever him from his ally. Also, because Atroxcidi might know how to break the curse on Jherica without destroying their mind. If not, Mirian could remove their temporal anchor as a last resort. Though if she did that, there would be a problem if Liuan demanded an explanation.

The problem was Atroxcidi was somewhere in Persama, close enough to Ibrahim that he was able to reach the necromancer in only a few days at most.

The trains couldn’t get her there fast enough. Nor could her force-enhanced levitation spell. Liuan was being cagey about where she started the cycle, but no matter where she was on the continent, there was no way she could get there in time either.

It was yet another intractable problem. She needed to get to Persama to finish her study of the leylines, but if Ibrahim was sending agents south, they would beat her to the major cities every time. This made it easy for Mirian to accept Liuan’s compromise. She’d agreed to help stop the invasion, and Mirian agreed to spend more time exploring the divine mysteries, starting with the Monument.

Liuan Var was convinced that something in the divine histories was key. The Divine Monument was the most obvious candidate. Her knowledge of magical theory seemed lacking, but she was right that Mirian’s plan had technical difficulties that could not be easily overcome.

The appearance of a fifth time traveler in Akana bothered her. It felt like it should be more balanced, and yet, Mirian had yet to see any sign of another time traveler in Baracuel. With Ibrahim still single-mindedly focusing on his war, and Liuan quite sure there were no other time travelers in Akana, though, that did leave Baracuel open for her to exploit. Mirian was willing to risk emerging from the shadows there in a more bombastic manner. Ibrahim could take Madinahr by the end of the cycle, but Baracueli soldiers ripped up the tracks leading to the west, so no matter how much of the eastern continent he conquered, he would be stuck on that side of the continent.

Her discussions with Liuan complete, Mirian returned to Baracuel. She retrieved Jei and Viridian and headed for Palendurio. The rest, she assigned on various research projects. Likely, they wouldn’t bear fruit, but there was always a chance. Selkus Viridian could continue his instruction on druid magic; Mirian still knew where to find all the Syndicate smugglers who had caged myrvites. Song Jei was the foremost expert in the Divine Monument. Her math had always implied the need for a second Monument to ‘complete’ the equations that governed energy flow through the Elder device, so if anyone would be able to help her with the secrets of the hypothesized second Monument, it would be her.

When they arrived in Palendurio, Mirian set up the professors in one of the inns near the Sanctum and went to Charlem Palace. She levitated to the upper chambers of the Luminate’s section of the palace. She melted open the window with manipulate glass, then landed beneath the basilica dome.

Several extremely surprised Luminate guards, priests, and attendants, all looked at her in shock.

“I am Mirian, the next Prophet. I will await Pontiff Oculo’s proclamation.” With that, she summoned Eclipse and used a modified illusion spell she’d been developing: light of the Prophet. Six bright wings of light blossomed from her back, the eyes within those wings swirling with orange and violet. She had designed them to mimic the anatomy of the creatures in the Mausoleum of the Ominian. The spell intensified the glow of her eyes, and conjured a luminous mist to surround her. It also changed her voice to give her an echo.

People couldn’t see her as human, because they couldn’t comprehend the Prophets they had read about in their books were human—not really. They had to see her as something otherworldly. Beyond them.

“Ah, that’s a nice illusion, but—” one of the guards started.

Mirian stood still, telekinetically turning the pages of her spellbook. She cast another spell she’d been working on: mass disarm. Every spear, sword, firearm, wand, and spellbook in the room was pulled toward her. Polite society was simply not ready for someone with the power of an archmage, especially with the Praetorians gone. There were gasps of fright. Mirian then gathered the objects in a force sphere and incinerated them.

“The Ominian has already made Their choice,” she said, voice echoing in the chamber. “The Pontiff’s declaration is for convenience.”

***

With the Holy Pages and Sword of the Fourth Prophet in front of him, Pontiff Oculo had his hand forced, especially when runners brought word that the holy vaults were indeed missing the items.

Mirian visited Lord Governor Quintus Palamas next, using her light of the Prophet illusion as she addressed them, Pontiff Oculo by her side.

“Arrest Kallin Corrmier for high treason. Arrest his brother Decian Corrmier and the entirety of the Pure Blade. Return their stolen guard uniforms to their respective barracks. Arrest Arturus Castill for high treason and the murder of Praetorian Adria Gavell.”

Gasps came from his advisers. Governor Quintus stared at her, uncomprehending.

“The three named conspirators all seek your death and the death of the Palamas family. They will move on you on the 20th of Solem.”

“Holy Prophet,” Quintus said. “I cannot simply—there are laws to be followed.”

“Kallin Corrmier won’t follow the law when he kills you. But I will tell you a secret: it doesn’t actually matter if you live or die. I’m just trying to make sure my own research goes smoothly, because the longest any cycle has lasted is the 12th of Duala. What I actually need is for the best geomancers and hydromancers in the city to meet me in front of the Grand Sanctum tomorrow morning. Whether or not you heed my advice on the arrests will be up to you.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Mirian turned and began to walk out. Quintus looked to Oculo. “I… I am Lord Governor of Palendurio! You will not turn your back—!”

She wasn’t sure what Pontiff Oculo would say to the Governor. She wasn’t sure if it would work. That was okay. She had plenty of attempts to try.

***

Five cycles later, Mirian had found a way to get the heads of the conspiracy arrested with minimal effort. Pontiff Oculo should have been one of them, but she needed his support to help sway the Governor, and keeping the former Allard noble alive and on her side helped sway that entire family from the conspiring side to hers. She also learned if she brought Adria Gavel’s corpse and an alive Specter with her, it was easier to get Arturus Castill arrested.

When the Corrmiers had lost the Deeps and the Allards, Nicolus’s father quickly pulled the Sacristars’ support, leaving the brothers isolated.

Then, while all sorts of revelations and trials were going on, Mirian was left to do what she’d really come to the city to do:

Dig a hole.

Over the course of the past few cycles, Mirian had learned far more about digging holes than she’d ever wanted to know. By now, she was including Professor Holvatti when she brought down academics from Torrviol since his expertise in geomorphology was proving useful, even if he kept bickering with Viridian about old grudges. She’d also learned that just a whole bunch of geomancers wasn’t enough, and now employed nearly a hundred skilled laborers who helped shore up the sides of the hole. Ten spell engines running at capacity were needed to pump groundwater from the site.

This was because, based on Jei’s revisions to her calculations, if there was a Palendurio Monument, it was buried beneath the river in front of the Grand Sanctum.

“Yes, force the evacuation of those sections of the canals,” Mirian snapped at one of the Luminate guards. “Tell them the river will be flooding those areas whether they’ve moved or not.” She’d had to deal with that the last few cycles too, and she was sick of people being so intransigent. It seemed ridiculous to her that some people wouldn’t move for a Prophet, wouldn’t move for the Pontiff, wouldn’t move for the Lord Governor, and resisted being moved by guards. There was a selfishness there that she found abhorrent. All they could think about was how this was affecting them personally, and how they didn’t like it.