Chapter 255 – A Cosmic Soul

The expedition spent two full days in its new camp around the Gate while Mirian worked on getting new leyline data and organizing supplies. The Torrviol Gate could indeed be lifted up into the courtyard, which simplified moving supplies immensely—but also created a hazard that had to be guarded. Several Academy arcanists raised low stone walls around the courtyard so that students wouldn’t be able to sneak in.

Zhuan spent most of those days in silent contemplation. Mirian saw her often looking out from high balconies, staring at the horizon.

At night, Mirian and Zhuan continued to look for each other in the Ominian’s dream. Once more, they found each other, and were able to communicate. When they woke, they went through their experience, trying to figure out if it was technique or chance that had let them meet.

“The sense of where in the dream you are is different than when in the dream you are,” Zhuan insisted. Mirian had to admit she probably needed more practice. She’d only been using the dream focus stone for a short time. That some parts had come naturally to her didn’t mean everything had.

On the afternoon of the third day, Mirian had finished her initial readings of the leyline energy pouring into the Jiandzhi. Her heart started pounding as she went over the readouts.

“You have that look,” Ibrahim said. “Is that good or bad?”

“I… it’s preliminary data. But… if this continues, it’s better than I could have ever hoped for.” The leyline readings were still incredibly faint, the detectors showing more of a hazy cloud of energy than the lines she was used to picking up. When the Alkazaria Gate was smoothing out the imbalance of energy that flowed past Palendurio, it only took a week or so for the leylines there to reach capacity. “This could give us a month. Two months. Maybe even three or four.”

Ibrahim nodded. “Everything changes from this.”

Mirian whirled. “It gives us time.”

“Time to scheme. Time for rulers to consolidate power. Time for armies to muster. ”

“Time to build! Gods’ blood, Ibrahim, do you really think war will save us from anything?”

“It’s as inevitable as the eastern winds. Zhuan sees it too.”

Mirian shook her head. The man was still implacable. She went to talk to Zhuan.

“—two oniwyrm attacks and one petal demon. Are you sure? Not three?”

“Yes, Exalted,” one of the expedition captains was telling her.

“Fewer attacks than you expected?” Mirian asked as she approached.

“Yes. And it’s only been three days. If the Jiandzhi settles down, the southern corridors and Sanctuary Road may become viable for use.” She looked east. “Moving east will be a problem, though. None of my expeditions have made it that far.”

Mirian looked around at the assembled camp. “Uh… can we just fly? Atrah said it’s only twenty miles.”

Zhuan raised an eyebrow. “Twenty miles. Of sustaining both levitation and the combat spells you’ll need? Through attacks of mist jellies, canopy screamers, and winged tigers?”

“Yes. Either Atrah or I can carry you.”

The other Prophet gave her a stern look.

“With a lift person spell, to be clear.”

Her look softened. “You are sure you can accomplish this? I abhor waste and inefficiency.”

“I do as well. And yes.”

Just then, a commotion went up around the Gate. Apparently, a student had wandered through. Mirian vaguely recognized him. Is that the one who blew himself up in the Alchemistry building? Not great survival instincts. A guard had also stepped through, and was trying to drag the boy by the arm back with him.

“The danger of having a Gate in the middle of a school,” Mirian said. “Shall we set off?”

Zhuan frowned, staring off into her thoughts. Finally, she said, “Yes. We’ll see what’s there first. It is the most efficient path.”

Gaius joined them and they levitated high above, then flew east.

***

Acclerated levitation really was an amazing spell. When Mirian had first tried to trek across the Littenords to reach Frostland’s Gate, she’d managed far less than twenty miles a day. It had taken refinement and practice—plus the auric mana to sustain it—but now her spell could do it in just minutes. She’d given Gaius a copy of the spell, and so they soared high above the canopy, only the tall peaks above them. Mirian still loved the feeling of the wind whipping past her face.

A swarm of mist jellies tried to attack them, but she and her father cleaved through them easily. She caught sight of a winged tiger lazily soaring above them in the distance, but it seemed to think better of attacking.

As they moved closer to the mountain, Zhuan called over the wind, “How old are you?”

“Forty-two.”

Gaius made a strange noise. Had she not told him this loop? There was so much to remember.

“I was older than you when this all began. I thought it was impressive when I broke into the category of archmage a few years back. How in Enteria do you have this kind of mana and spellpower?”

Zhuan had gone through soul ascension once, so she already knew about that. “Practice,” Mirian answered. She’d also told—and shown—Zhuan her training regimen. She couldn’t have kept it a secret if she wanted to; Gabriel, Ibrahim, and Luan all knew it, and she demonstrated parts of it every day.

And have your father start your soul magic training when you’re a toddler, she thought. She’d been looking at enough souls and arcanists now to notice a pattern in the strength of a soul and the maximum output of a caster. Just like a child picked up a language more quickly than an adult, she seemed to have picked up tricks to strengthen her soul more easily—tricks that only revealed themselves much later in her life. She couldn’t exactly tell Zhuan that part, though.

“There,” Gaius said, peering through a lens spell. They started descending towards a valley that was high up in the mountains. “Strange. I can see what looks like the remnants of a tower underneath the foliage, but it was constructed… sideways. A nonsensical design. No wonder parts of it have collapsed. Perhaps an experimental structure? I’m not seeing any ships or drydocks of any sort, though. Let’s get a closer look.”

As they flew in, Mirian caught the general shape of the structure her father was talking about. It was vaguely cylindrical, with thick leg-like protrusions keeping it above the ground. Or rather, they had once kept it above the ground; only two of the ‘legs’ had survived. As the others had cracked, the sideways tower had fallen, shattering pieces of it.

Like the other Viaterrian structures they had seen, the building was immense. Twice as tall as Torrian Tower, if they were to put it upright, she thought. But why put it sideways?

She had a flash of recollection. The building reminded her of something… but what?

They landed near the structure. Several small lizard-like creatures scattered as they landed, making clicking noises of alarm. The jungle was sparser here, but the building still dripped with vines and was covered in tangles of plants.

Her father frowned. “There’s little else here. Some squat structures, collapsed by erosion.” He cast a divination spell, then said, “There’s a metal plaza beneath the soil here. An absurd waste of steel, but the Viaterrians aren’t attested to being fools like the late Triarchs were. They must have had a reason.”

Mirian looked around. The rooms inside the tower were visible from where large parts of it had sheared off when the metal legs propping up the thing had collapsed. The rooms, though, were arranged in circles around the center. Gaius was right; from a structural engineering standpoint, it was a terrible design. Unless…

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