Chapter 39 – Investigations

Fifthday, Mirian decided to finally figure out what happened to Platus. She woke up early enough to annoy Lily, but just mentioned she needed to do some ‘extra studying.’ It was a good excuse, and Lily just went back to sleep. Then she headed for the Alchemistry building.

It was unlocked, though it shouldn’t have been. Mirian had finally completed her newest version of the spellrod the day before, so she drew it from her belt and prepared the force shield setting. She still wondered what it was Platus had uncovered that led to him getting killed. What secret had he stumbled on?

Mirian cautiously made her way up the stairs, careful not to step too loud. Every so often she paused to listen, but didn’t hear anything. By the time she made her way to the third floor, she finally did hear noise—the tinkle of glassware and the low hum of a spell engine. She looked back and forth down the hall. Dark and empty, as far as she could tell. She didn’t think any of the Akanan agents were on the level of using camouflage spells, not if they were relying on wands.

She tip-toed toward the open door of room 312. There were only a few minutes left until the explosion. Maybe someone was already in there with him? Mirian peeked around the corner.

Sure enough, there was Platus, all six hulking feet of him, bent over one of the alchemy counters. One of the supply cupboards was open, the lock on it hanging off, broken, the contents emptied. Platus had arrayed a large array of various chemicals and magichemicals in front of him. He’d scattered jars and measuring utensils across the counter, and was now focused on stirring something in one of the large glass beakers. A small spell engine for heating chemicals was on, and something was boiling in it. He was so focused on his project that he didn’t seem to notice Mirian peering in.

She double-checked. No one down the hall. No one else in the room. What was she missing? And what was Platus making anyways? She squinted at the jars on the counter, and her eyes widened. Oh five hells, she thought.

“Platus! What are you doing?”

He started, then shouted right back at her. “Burning hells, what are you doing? Go away before I hurt you.”

“You’re about to create a nitromyruenide, and you don’t have a containment field. Gods above, is that how it happens? You just blow yourself up? Are you suicidal?”

Platus went red in the face. He’d always had a short temper. “You’re all jealous of me! Trying to hold back my greatness. It won’t work! Now get out of here. This is my discovery.”

“Listen, I don’t really give a shit about you one way or another. Who told you to mix those? You’re about to create a room-sized fireball, and I guarantee you won’t survive it. Did you break into the Alchemistry building just to make an explosive?”

“I gave you a chance,” Platus said, and then he drew his wand.

Mirian didn’t know what the wand did, so she ducked around the corner and cast her force shield.

The explosion slammed into it within seconds, the fireball erupting from the door. Her force shield broke, and she went sprawling. She ran for the stairs, because the heat pouring out of the room was far too intense to stay close to.

Now she knew what kind of wand he was using, though. He’d used a flame spell—right next to an entire pile of extremely volatile chemicals. She couldn’t believe it. Was his death really unrelated to the conspiracy? There had to be more to it. Had someone convinced him to make whatever harebrained recipe he was brewing? Maybe the Akana spies had told him to do it as a distraction while they infiltrated some critical place. Or maybe Platus had really just been that stupid.

Mirian cast her disguise spell, then left through one of the side doors. She didn’t want to deal with a bunch of questions from anyone. When she got to class, she thought about the first time it had happened. She’d been so distraught. A student had died, in front of her, and it had haunted her for days. Now, it just seemed like a piece of trivia. She wasn’t sure she liked the change in perspective. But if the Gods had sentenced her to see so much death, again and again, it seemed an inevitable consequence of her fate.

***

That evening, she and Selesia took a walk down by the market again after classes. Platus’s death came up—how could it not?—but Mirian changed the topic after only a brief discussion. She didn’t want to dwell on it. They mostly talked about school, since that was what consumed most of their time. Since Selesia was training to be a mage generalist, Mirian could only offer her advice on half her classes.

Midway through the conversation, Mirian started to say, “In two years, you’ll look back at your classes and…” and then she paused. It was one thing to know there wouldn’t be ‘two years from now’ for Selesia, and another to internalize it. She swallowed hard. “—and realize they were easier than you remember. Sorry, had something in my throat.”

Selesia didn’t seem to notice. “Ugh, you can’t tell me the classes get even harder Mirian! How do you even remember it all?”

“You don’t have to memorize every glyph, but it helps. Understanding theory also goes a long way.”

“But the theory doesn’t make sense! It’s incomplete,” she said, and Mirian remembered she was part of the Takoa people, not just Akanan. More closely connected to Xipuatl’s people than to the colonists that had left Baracuel’s shores those centuries earlier. She wondered if they had similar views on soul magic. “What do the Takoa think of the… right, they don’t have the Luminates over in Akana. What is it… the Church of the Ominian?”

“Yeah. Uh, probably best not to talk about it in public,” Selesia said in a low voice. “It’s… well, there was really bad blood between the church and the Takoa. Several nasty wars before Akana’s constitution came into effect and gave the Takoa some protection from the zealots. There’s still a bunch of church leaders who think that part of the constitution should be repealed, so it’s something of a hot political issue. Not that there’s many people here who think that, but even though they like to brand each other heretics, the two churches are pretty similar in how they feel about everyone else.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.