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    It didn’t take long to figure out that one of the relics in the first Vault could be used to shape stone. The device was incredibly mana efficient, allowing an apprentice to move about a ton of stone per hour. Unfortunately, that rate couldn’t be accelerated, but it was still a useful tool. The second crystal growing relic was a real prize. If Mirian could find a third one in the Vaults, her calculations suggested she could bring down the amount of time it would take to create the conduit crystals she’d need for a full-scale leyline regulator from a full year to perhaps as little as four months.

    In the second Vault, one of the devices proved to be the cousin of the heat-absorbing material and electricity-absorbing material uncovered in other vaults. This one absorbed magnetic fields.

    That left five Elder relics that, even with dozens of professors poking and prodding at them with every conceivable idea, were still mysteries.

    As the 1st of Merisheth approached again, Mirian considered her options.

    She would continue to proceed with the assumption that the number of time loops were limited. She still had no evidence that was the case, but it was logically consistent with arcane physics; all spells required mana. The time loop must require energy or mana of some sort, and thus, it must be finite. Her best indication of the amount of time left was the number of temporal needles that had returned to the Ominian. That there were only two still suggested they still had a great deal of time. She’d had her father start working with the priests and historians in town. Together, they were digging through historical records from Bainrose, the temples, and ones she’d had the Syndicate pilfer from Cairnmouth. Hopefully, they could figure out a range of time each previous Prophet had spent in their respective time loops, as well as get an idea of the length of the loop and the number of times they’d gone through it. With that information, they might be able to estimate how much time they had.

    Of course, if the loop was ‘number of cycles’ rather than ‘total time,’ they had an entirely different problem. Still, Mirian couldn’t bring herself to believe that someone like the First Prophet had gone through 238 loops. His loops had, at a minimum, taken years, given when he was declared Prophet. There was no way he had lasted thousands of years in the loop and stayed sane.

    They were assumptions, but they were what she had to go off of. Though she also couldn’t shake the feeling that extending the loops was important. Did it take more energy to send someone farther back in time? If it did, how did the cost of energy relate to how far back the Prophet was being sent? Mirian related it to picking up a boulder with lift object. There was a minimum cost of mana that was high; that went into shaping the spell and vertically lifting the boulder. Once it was lifted, though, a relatively smaller amount of energy went into moving it horizontally. If she was right, longer loops would be more efficient and therefore they’d have more time overall.

    Unless, of course, there was a strict quantity of time they were allotted. She kept going back and forth on how it must work, unable to make up her mind. Eventually, she had to scold herself for trying to figure out a system with insufficient evidence.

    Either way, she would continue to proceed with extending the loops and maximizing the progress they were making towards stopping moonfall, and right now, it seemed the most important thing to do was figure out what was going on with Zhighua. Gabriel had still made no progress, other than apparently getting himself eaten again.

     

    ***

     

    On the 239th loop, Mirian sent Gabriel a letter by zephyr falcon that she’d join him in Alatishad and help him push into the Jiandzhi on the 241st loop. She requested he advise her on what sort of preparations she should make.

    Gabriel sent her a list of wine vintages he wanted and suspiciously precise information about where in Baracuel to acquire them.

    Mirian went north of town and practiced unleashing full power spells for an hour, turning what had been a hill and a patch of forest into a smoldering crater. She felt much better afterward, and then was able to respond to Gabriel’s letter in a firm yet polite way, instead of ripping her nib through the paper like with her first attempt.

    In the meantime, Mirian continued her Gulwenen lessons with Jei and Torres and discussed the Jiandzhi with someone who had both been there and was helpful.

    “You’re taking the Sanctuary Road, right?” her father asked. That was the long old road that snaked through the Land of Spires, using a long series of caves, canyons and small fortresses to avoid the nastiest myrvites. It was a well-trod trade road, and usually safe. Safe-ish. Safe compared to the other routes, at least.

    “Gabriel says he’s been attacked and killed several times while on Sanctuary Road. Probably leyline disruptions sending the myrvites into a frenzy. I’ve seen the same sort of phenomenon up north.”

    “How much have I told you about the myrvites of the Jiandzhi?” her father asked.

    “A bit. Mostly how deadly they are, and how you gave up doing research in the area even though you’d made some fascinating discoveries.”

    “But you’ll be going? What am I saying, of course you’ll be going. It’s just… I want my little lotus to be safe. Even though, rationally, I know you will be because of the time loop.”

    Mirian smiled. He’d expressed the sentiment before, but she couldn’t help but get a fuzzy feeling from it. She gave him a hug, and he returned it. “The more you teach me about the creatures there, the safer I’ll be.”

    For a while, neither of them broke the hug. Then he finally said, “Well, alright. Where’s this Selkus Viridian fellow? You said he had scrolls—sorry, books on myrvites, right?”

    “Dozens. And if he doesn’t, Bainrose library will, or I can always send Nicolus down to raid one of the Cairnmouth archives…”

    They broke the hug, then left Torrian Tower and began to wander over to the Myrvite Studies building.

    Then, Mirian noticed something was off. One of the Torrviol guards—she was pretty sure it was Roland, though it had been some years since she’d had any significant interaction with him—was walking fast enough he was almost running. A crowd was forming around someone behind him. Mirian caught a glimpse of a familiar face, but it took her brain a moment to realize who it was. It seemed wrong seeing him here, so far removed from context.

    That was Ibrahim. Walking casually over to her.

    Mirian froze, then cast a remote whisper spell and spoke quickly. “That’s Ibrahim, the Persaman Prophet. As far as he knows, I’m just making deals with you to train me and assist in research. You must treat me as an ally. Understood?”

    He gave the slightest of nods.

    She’d briefed her father on the basics of what was going on with the other Prophets each cycle, but she’d grown lax in how they interacted in Torrviol. She hadn’t expected to see Ibrahim here of all places. What in the five hells is he doing?

    She strode forward, hiding her discomposure.

    The guard running up to her said, “Prophet Mirian, this man just arrived by train and—”

    “Yes, thank you Roland. I know who this is.” Louder, she said, “Prophet Ibrahim. You’ve been a hard man to find.” The crowd around him parted.

    Ibrahim shrugged. Then he saw Gaius and Mirian was pleased to see a his projection of nonchalance vanish for just a moment. He quickly recovered and continued toward her. “I see you’re keeping fine company.” He spoke in Adamic, though he’d understood her Friian well enough.

    “He has magic I need, and we both benefit from the world continuing.”

    Ibrahim smirked. “That’s not all you offered him, though.”

    “Of course not. But that’s not why you’re here. What brings you to Torrviol?”

    “I wanted to see it,” he said, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

    Mirian tried to keep her incredulity out of her voice. “Is that what you’ve been doing? Seeing places?”

    “More or less.”


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    Well, there’s no sense missing this opportunity, Mirian thought, so she said, “Then let me show you around.” She ignored the gathered crowd and addressed Gaius. “Professor Xidi, can you ensure the research progresses? We can discuss the Jiandzhi later.”

    “Of course,” her father said coldly. He was good at masking his emotions. Maybe having less flesh and no blood made it easier to do so.

    “The Jiandzhi?” Ibrahim asked.

    “Gabriel is having trouble getting into Zhighua. There’s leviathans by sea, and beasts by land. Even Sanctuary Road appears to have myrvite attacks.”

    The dervish snorted. “Of course he is. You know you can’t trust that snake, right?”

    Mirian knew that already. “Gabriel is helping our efforts. I’ll accept any aid from any source, as long as it saves Enteria.” They continued walking. “This is Torrian Tower. It uses pre-Cataclysm architecture styles. That’s Bainrose Castle, once the bastion that the town hid in during myrvite incursions and invasions, now just a library. Over there is the Kiroscent Dome where ceremonies are performed. It was the first place I died.”

    Ibrahim walked with his hands clasped behind his back, gait slow but confident, gaze measured but alert. When he saw the Artificer’s Tower, he said, “I didn’t expect Persaman influence on the architecture. How did that happen?”

    It was Mirian’s turn to shrug. “I think it had to do with the collapse of the Triarchy. All of a sudden, a lot of well-educated Persaman scholars had a good reason to go anywhere but Persama.”

    They turned north, walking through the gardens, then cutting over to the Myrvite Studies building.

    “Now there’s a strange building.”

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