Chapter 189 – The Palendurio Monument

As the excavation continued, Mirian saw the Governor’s delegation approaching, flanked by two Praetorians and several city guards. Great. This again. But it was best to head it off.

She flew up and landed in front of Governor Quintus.

“Prophet!” he said, surprised.

“Yes. You’re here about the Persamans, right?”

The Governor swallowed. “Yes, holy one. You didn’t answer my summons—ah, you’re right, of course!—but Parliament is watching the country be split in two and there are… concerns. This false Prophet… he’s conquering the eastern cities one by one. Atroxcidi stands by his side. People say… well, there are rumors. And you are digging. I of course understand how critical this excavation is, but there are others…”

“Then send the Palendurio army. The traitor Corrmier no longer has control of it. If Ibrahim is busy besieging Madanhr, go liberate Alkazaria. You don’t need me for that.”

“The western half of the continent would be defenseless!” the Governor protested. “What can be so important… your holiness, I am not questioning that the Ominian has touched you. I only seek to inform you of the rumors and unrest that are spreading.”

This was something she was seeing now when she proclaimed herself early. The initial shock of it let her do what she wanted—for a few days or weeks at least. Then, the different factions of power worked to accomplish whatever agenda they had, or maneuver for whatever power they could grab. The short time frame of the loop limited how much she needed to worry about it, but if she did find a way to drastically expand the amount of time in a cycle, it would start to become a problem.

Mirian had tried explaining last cycle that it didn’t matter, that there simply wasn’t time for Ibrahim to do anything to western Baracuel. She had tried explaining that, yes, she was a powerful archmage, but Atroxcidi would easily destroy her in any battle. Quintus said he was bringing up the concerns of others, but in reality, it was his concern, and he couldn’t help but think she should be leading the army in some heroic struggle.

I need to make him think I’m going along with him.

“Very well. Begin mobilizing two divisions. Tell them my intention is to sneak through the Casnevar Range. We’ll strike at Rambalda and cut off Ibrahim’s supplies and force him to retreat. We will depart on the 14th of Duala.”

Quintus seemed shocked.

“Do you need further instructions?”

“No, holy one. I will inform Parliament at once.” He gave a cursory bow and departed.

Mirian watched him go. She wanted to say, and next time, leave the Praetorians behind. What in the five hells are you wasting their time for? But it was better to let him think he’d just won. The world would end before she would have to make good on her promise.

She returned to the excavation. By now, geomancers had cut away the stone surrounding the indestructible layer. It wasn’t the Monument, though. It was a much smaller room.

“Here, your holiness,” said one of the artificers who was helping run the water pumping spell engines. “We think this is a door.”

The door was made of some sort of dark metal. It didn’t appear to be adamantium, but like the black stone, it was resistant to both force and shape spells. There were a mix of glyphs and runes on the door. Enchantments, still active after all this time? That should be impossible.

Mirian had a sense that she’d seen something else like this before. There had been something early in the loops… but what? What does this remind me of?

The other arcanists had tried to open the door in various ways, but it was firmly locked. Mirian began to investigate. The glyphs were spread out, and by inference she knew most were on the other side, but she could map out a probable sequence. Energy rerouting. The complete sequence isn’t on the door, but it’s implied. If force is applied… hmm. She used a divination spell that would track energy and tried a force drill again. There. Some sort of sequence is causing the stone to absorb the force as heat, then dissipating that heat all around the structure. Her usual trick of overheating a glyph to break it wouldn’t work. But where is the arcane energy for such an enchantment coming from? She tried overwhelming the glyph with electric energy, then tried magnetic detonation. Again, the spells appeared to have no effect. Again, she could detect part of some sort of sequence that was moving the energy around, presumably to dissipate it.

There was no way to do that she knew of with an enchantment. Remnant Elder work? she wondered. But the Elder Gods used glyphs that were almost too small to see, and integrated the glyphs into the very stonework itself in a way that was totally different than human construction.

There was another structure, she realized, that did have similar construction.

Torrian Tower. It wasn’t quite the same; Torrian Tower didn’t have sequences that resisted damage so well, but it did have glyphs designed to support the materials, resist weathering, and counter attempts to shape the stone itself. Conduit nodes inside the tower allowed arcanists to recharge the structural enchantments.

Mirian embraced her focus and examined the door again. No soul energy present. It’s not actually using spell resistance, just clever tricks.

She looked to Professor Viridian. “Do you think it’ll work?”

Professor Viridian looked at Jei.

Jei shrugged. “Best time to try it, yes?”

Mirian turned to her newest spell. Functionally, the spell pushed her. The trick part was that it pushed her towards a set of coordinates she couldn’t see. She had tried it in open spaces, but not to actually pass through an obstacle yet. Possibly, this would just see her splatter against the door, and she would have yet another ignominious end to a cycle. But, if this was human construction, chances were good that no one had constructed anything in the fourth dimension.

She held her breath and cast the stone mole inspired blink.

For a moment, the world rushed by Mirian, contorting in a way she found impossible to describe. It was like she could simultaneously see the inside and outside of the room in front of her, but the angles all seemed wrong. Then, she was standing on the other side of the door, thoroughly disoriented and slightly nauseous.

It worked, she thought, stunned. Then, it worked! She gave a whoop of joy.

Then, she heard a hissing sound, and froze.

The room was pitch black, so she cast a light spell.

She took a step back, hitting the door. About six feet away in front of her was an Elder creature. She was sure she had seen its like carved in the Mausoleum of the Ominian; it was an octopus-like creature, though its head had too many teeth, and its tendrils covered in unblinking eyes. The statues in the Mausoleum were all black so she hadn’t expected the strange prismatic carapace or the way it moved. Parts of its body suddenly would vanish then reappear in a slightly different spot.

Mirian readied her spellbook, but it wasn’t attacking.

She stared at it. How is it possible for it to be alive? The teeth weren’t what she expected either. They were twisted spirals like the pointy end of a conch shell, only metallic with lines of fluorescing material. It was stranger even than the unliving abominations in the depths of the Vault. The only comparable thing she’d seen was Apophagorga.

It took her a moment to see the rest of the room. The creature was sitting atop a slanted table. On that table were all sorts of glyphs and runes, many of which she’d never seen before. Most were minuscule, but some were larger. There was also a silver and white device that resembled the leyline repulsor device that the Akanans had found in the Labyrinth. The strange Elder creature had several tendrils wrapped around it.

It was still looking at Mirian. It didn’t look like it was aggressive, though it had enough sharp protrusions Mirian was going to be careful. The way it looked at her—all the eyes tracking her—it looked intelligent. She kept her spellbook in hand as she carefully approached it.

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Have I seen this creature in my dreams before?

She wasn’t sure. When she was close enough, she gently raised her hand, shaping her soul like she did when she wanted to befriend a wyvern. She touched the creature on a tendril, ready to leap back.

A complicated burst of concepts ran through her mind. They came too fast, like Jei speaking Gulwenen at her. It was like a thousand pictures all melded into one, a thousand emotions and ideas.

Slower, she tried to say. Simple.

The creature moved its tendrils, dozens of eyes examining her.

THIS ONE SURVIVED. THIS ONE SERVES. COMMAND?

The concepts rippled through her mind like a shout. Open, she thought, then tried to think of the best word. Door? Portal? Gate?

CANNOT. DAMAGED.

What was damaged? she pushed to the creature.

Images of the table flashed through her mind. There had been crystals of different sizes in it, once. Something had shattered them; she could see the pieces scattered across the ground. This creature could repair the glyphs and runes, somehow, but not the crystals. INSUFFICIENT MATTER.

Name? I’m Mirian, she pushed to it.

THIS ONE SERVES, AS LONG AS THE PACT IS HONORED. A NAME IS TOO SMALL A THING TO CONTAIN US. It sent another burst of complicated images and ideas that spun through Mirian’s mind like a headache.