Chapter 238 – More Steps on the Long Path

Mirian refined her early route, practicing both her efficient conversion of soul energy into mana and efficiency in binding myrvite souls for use. With greater efficiencies, she could speed up her accelerated levitation, cutting hours off her travel. She now retrieved supplies from Mahatan, deposited them in Torrviol, then headed north to grab her father. Instead of moving back south, she now had them fly north to Alkazaria. She could then open that Gate, bringing them to Palendurio. From there, they could grab mana elixirs and magichemicals needed for research, then Gaius could take them north by train while Mirian got off at Cairnmouth and returned to Torrviol to prepare the research effort.

With each iteration, she practiced getting more and more people to join the building or research efforts. Xipuatl could help Viridian with spirit constructs. Nicolus was useful for heading down to Cairnmouth to procure more shipments of magical materials, while Calisto could arrange shipments of live myrvites from her father’s guild.

That wasn’t all. Plenty of older students could be used as research assistants, or used to help the skilled artisans of Torrviol as they expanded the Myrvite Studies building or assembled artifacts or enchanted material in Akanan-style assembly lines. Within a few weeks, Torrviol was completely transformed.

Mirian didn’t spend all her time in the Labyrinth. Whenever there was a breakthrough on a new spell that was possible through a tri-bonded sequence, she ceased her exploration and worked on that. Gaius continued to teach her about the energy transmutation enchantments he used in his mummy soldiers, which led to her completely scrapping her old designs for the leyline regulators.

One of the biggest problems in dealing with a leyline was the sheer amount of energy involved. In one of her meetings with the professors, Mirian explained her reasoning: “We can create sequences of inefficient transmutation. Then, arcane energy can be both defused and put to work. Some will be released as heat, some as light, some as sound, some as electricity, and so on. That reduces how robust the materials we’re using need to be.”

Then, she made another connection. Both she, Xecatl, and Gabriel had located Elder relics in the Vaults that had special properties or could manipulate energy. In two cases, there were relics capable of absorbing an enormous amount of a given energy type. The one she’d found in the Frostland’s Vault could absorb heat, for example. Gabriel’s could regulate electricity.

Mirian became quite good at delivering concise lectures to both professors and apprentices. “Each leyline regulator can be designed around an Elder absorption device, including theoretical relics we haven’t found yet. Professor Xidi will be teaching a series of classes on energy transmutation. Then, teams will break off into groups and design devices or segments of the devices independently, before coming back together to collaborate and review each other’s designs. I’ve arranged teams in a way to produce different outputs each cycle, so please do not rearrange the teams,” she announced at the end of one lecture.

When she and her father weren’t monitoring research, she was in the Labyrinth with him, carving through horrors and abominations. By the fifth cycle of this, they’d cleared the fourth level for miles around Torrviol and were moving deep into the fifth level.

The first prize they found was an econode. Strangely enough, it was a desert node, some three square miles, absolutely full of chimeras, drakes, and manticores.

“Where do they get all their food from?” Mirian asked as they explored it.

Gaius shrugged. “My best guess is they must be able to eat the labyrinthine horrors. That might explain why most of the dens are next to the entrances.”

The econode acted as the perfect place to replenish mana and soul energy. Then they moved on.

Another cycle passed. Jherica reported Xecatl’s progress on a spirit construct designed to transmute energy and drain leyline energy. Ceiba Yan was attempting to grow his roots around the Labyrinth. Expeditions of diviners continued to search for a Gate in Tlaxhuaco, to no avail.

Mirian began to take language lessons from Song Jei. She already knew a few words from the exercises Jei had taught her some twenty years ago. It wasn’t much of a foundation. Gulwenen proved to be a difficult language to learn, and her progress was slow.

Gabriel reported making another attempt to take Sanctuary Road through the Jiandzhi to Zhighua, but had gotten eaten and was pissed about it. Liuan reported another sighting of Scebur’s agent, out in Westshire of all places. The far west of Akana Praediar had little industry, and was time consuming to navigate. There was also no sign at all of Gates out that far. Mirian couldn’t make heads or tails of what Scebur would be doing over there. Her best guess was that it was a distraction, designed to pull Liuan out of place while Scebur did something in eastern Akana, and she told Liuan as much. Liuan replied with a snippy letter saying she already knew that.

Ibrahim remained missing.

Mirian’s efforts in Torrviol now involved moving a great deal of gold and material around, to the point where it was having an influence on the politics and economics of western Baracuel. Merchant investors would often show up, as would Crown Investigators looking for fraud. However, by the time they showed up, Mirian’s forged bank papers had already been sent into circulation in Cairnmouth or Palendurio, and untangling her fraud would take longer than the investigators had.

As for the religious ramifications, Pontiff Oculo was caught up in General Corrmier’s coup plot. Two months was still too fast for the Luminate Order to make a decision on declaring a Prophet, especially one who seemed content to muck about in a remote town. Most of the time, a delegation of priests and bishops made their way up to Torrviol, but arrived near the end of Duala, too late to do much. She could tell that the longer the cycles went, the more she’d have to care about what Palendurio and Alkazaria were doing. For now, she could ignore them.

At night, her dreams were full of the Ominian’s thoughts. Finally, she dreamed of the Mausoleum again.

***

When the dream came, Mirian was ready. First, she checked the Ominian, sitting on Their throne. There were still two temporal anchors. The first was Troytin’s. She still didn’t know where the second one had come from.

She turned and quickly made her way to the colossal doors at the front of the Mausoleum. Mentally, she pushed them open. Above the Mausoleum was another Gate, she knew, but that wasn’t what she was interested in this time. No, she wanted to see what had been left behind. The last Triarchs of the Persaman Empire had done something to this chunk of Mayat Shadr. It was connected to the destruction of the city, and the things that had risen up high above Enteria with the city had stayed there for centuries.

When she’d last dreamed of this place, she’d been focused on looking out over the planet. Now, she went to where necromancer-priests had fallen.

Most of the runes and glyphs on their scepters and robes were dull, any lingering arcane energy long since extinguished. The solidified forms of the glyphs were still there, so their magic could be recreated. As Mirian looked through the glyphs, though, there was nothing that looked particularly useful. She noted heavy use of myrvite bones in the construction of the priestly armor, and the form was reminiscent of a rib cage.

Curious. Endresen’s research on mana flow seems to suggest that form is one of the more efficient ways to move high amounts of arcane energy. Perhaps they stumbled upon it. It was, she had to admit, a rather wicked looking aesthetic.

She made her way over to a dais. There were the remnants of massive runes scribed into the stone. One sequence seemed to circle around the entire Mausoleum. The other thing that was everywhere was the bones. They lay in giant heaps. Thousands and thousands of them. A sick feeling churned in her. Something terrible happened here.

At the dais, the corpses were more finely decorated. The robes had become sun-bleached, but she could still make out the embroidery and faded glyphs.

In the center of a ritual circle was what could only be the Triarchs. There were three of them, each wearing armor that still glittered white-silver in the light. Mythril, she knew. How many souls did it take to make so much mythril? The regulator-armor she was designing would need a lot of mythril. This would be everything I need. I would just need to reforge it. She looked down at one of the ornate scepters clutched in a skeletal hand. The runes they’d used had also faded, but the imprints and trace magichemicals left over might be enough to learn new runes. Worth retrieving and studying, she thought.

She looked around at the vast numbers of runes and glyphs that had been deployed. If we can find out what they were doing, it could help solve the crisis.

Mirian was about to move on when she sensed something. She stopped and looked back. Not all the scepters were identical. One of them still had some sort of active magic; she could feel it, the faintest prickle of her arcane sense. Interesting that still works here. She bent over, putting a hand out towards the Triarch’s scepter. She’d studied the old Persaman scepter Torres had, and she’d seen a few in her father’s collection. She knew how to disassemble them. Her arm flickered with black and white energy. She wasn’t really here; it was some sort of soul projection. Still, if she could open doors…

Mirian closed her eyes, then used a burst of raw magic to hit the scepter in the release point. The top of it clicked open, revealing the catalyst.

If she could breathe here, her breath would have caught. The catalyst shone with unreal light, seemingly both indigo and orange at the same time, with colors the mind couldn’t parse. Not just any catalyst. The catalyst of a myrvite titan. The cataclysm beast slain by the First Prophet.

It had lain here, all this time. A catalyst even more potent than the one that she’d taken from Apophagorga.

***

The next morning, Gaius found Mirian scribbling down notes while she clacked around with an abacus.

“These aren’t for the Labyrinth,” he said, glancing over them. “Or your usual artifice.”

“No, it’s for another project.”

“Well, you can hit these numbers on a heat shield spell easily. But what in the Gods name do you need that kind of horizontal levitation speed for though?”

“It might be the better option.”

Gaius made a face as he looked her other notes. “This sheet has you levitating upward at maximum speed for ten hours. Where are you trying to go, the bloody m—oh.”

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“Precisely,” Mirian said.

“I see.” Her father seemed at a loss for words. “Could an airship help? I’ll admit, I don’t really know much about these new… spell engines.”

Mirian grimaced. Spell engines had been around for two hundred years, and widespread for a hundred. “No. The spell engines use most of the fuel for force propulsion. The levitation mostly just keeps them aloft, and the way the conduits are designed mean it isn’t much good for sustained rapid ascent. Possibly, a new engine could be built in one of Tyrcast’s factories… but from my conversations with the Akanans a few years back, retooling a factory takes quite a bit of time. I could, perhaps, build a Baracueli airship spell engine in time, but the Akanan ones are a lot more complex. Then there’s the issue of fuel, and how more of it weighs more, so you need more to deal with the extra weight, and so on and so forth,” she said, gesturing at another pile of calculations.

Gaius frowned. “The third solution looks like the most realistic one, then. I’d guess… you’d need 160 myr at a minimum. Possibly 170. You’d still want to start at height on an airship. And you’d need perfect timing.”

“So it seems. Any more tricks for increasing spell intensity?”

Her father chuckled. “More of what you’ve been doing. You’re still young.” He smiled. “With where you’re at right now, I can’t wait to see where you’ll end up.”

Mirian smiled back at him. He was proud of her. That felt good.

She set the notes aside. “A project for another time then. I feel like we’re getting close to the sixth level. Let’s keep going.”

***

That evening Mirian and Gaius emerged from the Labyrinth, ragged, but intact. They’d discovered a magic suppression field deep in the fifth level, and Mirian had collected samples. As they emerged from the tunnel she’d made by the lake, though, something was wrong. There were strange noises in the night. She heard cracking sounds in the distance.

“What day is it?” she asked suddenly, but she already knew the answer. She set down her satchel of Labyrinth wall fragments.

“Thirdday, the 28th of Solem, if I’m not mistaken. Though I have been known to lose track of the months from time to time. Or years, really. One time, I—” Her father cut himself off as another, louder sound echoed.

“Liuan didn’t prevent the invasion this cycle. Fuck! No one’s prepared. I didn’t form a militia or even—fuck!” She turned to Gaius. “It’s an Akanan army group. Focus on the artillery. I’ll destroy the airships.”

Her father’s face grew grim. “We’re low on soul energy and mana. You know what that means.”