Nym took the next few days easy. It turned out he’d botched quite a few things trying to heal himself, and what he’d done right had been more of an accident than anything. Archmage Veran patched him up enough to keep him alive, but neither of them had the energy to do more right then. The problem was easily remedied by a visit to an accomplished healer, one who just looked at the hack job he’d done of it, shook her head, and recommended not trying to do it himself next time.
He agreed with her, but didn’t feel like he needed to justify his actions by explaining the circumstances leading up to his experiments in surgery. She fixed him up, he gave her a crest, and then he left. That was all he’d wanted out of visiting the clinic, and he was perfectly happy with the work she’d done.
What he wasn’t happy about was the state of his soul well. He’d barely gotten the thing patched up, and now he was right back in there repairing the nodes that the corpse root had mangled. It was a small consolation that he at least knew what he needed to do to fix his matrix, and he suspected he’d be back to full strength by the end of the week unless things went sideways.
It did mean he missed the big event where they sealed up the tear once and for all. Nym heard that Archmage Veran had called in one of his colleagues to help, and that the two archmages assisted by sixty third circle mages patched the whole thing up right this time. Nym didn’t see him that day or the next, but the wards blocking access to his private chambers were fully powered for days on end.
One day, while Nym was eating breakfast and reading a book on the intricacies of reconnecting severed limbs, the archmage popped into existence across the table from him. Nym jerked so hard that the bread roll he was eating flew out of his hands and bounced off the wall. He caught it with a burst of telekinetic arcana before it could hit the floor, then shot Archmage Veran a scowl.
“You didn’t even form that into a proper spell,” the old man noted.
“It wasn’t that heavy, and I didn’t have that much time. How could you tell?”
“The way the roll flopped through the air like that. Your telekinesis spells mimic motions your own body would do, but that one didn’t.”
“I guess that’s true. Are you feeling better?”
“As much as I can at my age. How are you doing?”
“Still cleaning up the damage, but I should be done in another day or two.”
“That’s good to hear. I will be hosting a small dinner for our companions from our adventures tonight here. You are welcome to attend, but I will understand if you do not want to. If you’d prefer, I can drop you off outside the sanctum so you can finish your recovery with your own friends. You would of course be welcome to return when you’re ready. I have not forgotten my debts, after all.”
“I’ll go,” Nym said. “As long as you don’t expect me to do anything but eat your food, at least.”
Archmage Veran laughed. “That will be fine, I think. I realize that we’re a bit behind on our work together, but I should have significantly more time to assist you starting tomorrow.”
“I’ll look forward to it, or maybe dread it. I’m not sure yet.”
“I won’t hold it against you if you feel the need to curse my name over the next few weeks,” the archmage assured him. “God knows I cursed yours often enough when I was learning to channel fifth layer arcana.”
“That’s not reassuring,” Nym said dryly. He finished his roll and added, “How did sealing the tear go.”
“It’ll hold for the rest of my natural lifespan,” Archmage Veran said, his voice suddenly tired. “It’s not a true fix though. I doubt anything less than an actual ascendant working on it would reverse the damage. The work itself was quite boring. I did the equivalent to holding the cart up while Teltin changed the wheel. Oh, sorry, Teltin is a Nordramese archmage I sometimes collaborate with. It was a thoroughly exhausting day in which very little of excitement occurred.”
“Glad I missed it then,” Nym muttered. With his luck, showing up would have caused the reaper to burst through the tear into their reality and kill everyone. He had no idea how that would have happened, but it honestly wouldn’t have surprised him. It was just another reason to hurry up and make it to the fifth layer so that he could see if it was possible to regain his lost magic without the personality that came with it.
He hadn’t missed the not-so-subtle hint that an ascendant could solve their problems for them. Nym wasn’t even a real ascendant, not in his mind at least, and he was already starting to understand why they didn’t hang around with regular humans. The last thing he wanted was to live his life solving the problems of every random jerk who found him in the streets.
Some of the big ones, like a tear between the Veil of life and death, would warrant his attention, of course. He wasn’t heartless. Maybe he’d come back to that and fix it properly once it was within his power to do so. That could still be years away if the whole memory cube thing didn’t work though.
“So it’s done then? Nothing left but to hunt down the loose undead, which won’t be repopulating anymore? Then the rebuilding?”
“Probably. It’ll start getting cold soon, long before any of the towns have been rebuilt in any meaningful way. Your earth mage friends could no doubt find a decent amount of work in the area.”
Nym shook his head. “They’re heading south for warmer weather. I’m not sure they’d want to come back here anyway, but I’ll let them know.”
The conversation meandered away from heavy topics after that, and soon enough breakfast was over. Archmage Veran left to attend to things, citing a need to catch up on Academy business, and Nym kept himself safe from boredom by browsing a few of the many, many books stored in the sanctum library.
* * *
The normal table had disappeared from the dining room, and in its place was a monstrosity easily twenty feet long and big enough to seat seven or eight to a side with plenty of elbow room. That was good, because Archmage Veran’s guest list was larger than Nym had expected.
Everyone from their most recent adventure was there, and so were Babkin, Grom, and Stelton. A man Nym didn’t recognize sat next to the archmage, and he quickly figured out from eavesdropping on the two army mages that he was the Nordramese archmage. Nym wasn’t exactly keen to meet someone so powerful, and he hoped his mentor was keeping his secrets.
Speaking of secrets, he was less than thrilled to see Lord Jaspar Feldstal at the table. The nobleman didn’t go out of his way to talk to Nym, which suited him just fine. In fact, they were seated on the same side with five people between them. All the important people were up at the head near Archmage Veran. Nym was back at the far end with Grom and Stelton. Babkin sat across from him, and Leaf was next to the burly innkeeper.
Babkin did not look good. Even after a few weeks of recovery time, he had that sallow, wasted look of someone who’d been sick for a long, long time. Nym waited until everyone was seated and platters of food started appearing out of thin air to float down onto the table. The aura of arcana around Archmage Veran gave the trick away: he was teleporting the dishes in from another room.
Once they’d had a chance to get started, he said, “Are you alright? You look terrible.”
Babkin rumbled out a laugh, but it was a pale echo of his former robustness. “Berserker magic is not gentle. I will recover, eventually.”
“I’m keeping an eye on him,” Leaf added. “I don’t think we’ll be participating in the clean up though. The whole group is going on vacation.”
“My inn has been destroyed anyway,” Babkin grumbled. “The entire town was flattened. Cern was very nearly killed when his shop blew up.”
Nym winced. He was by no means an alchemical expert, but he distinctly remembered the aftermath of one of Cern’s accidents in a controlled setting. The idea of some of his reagents being randomly smashed together sent a shiver down his spine. “Is he alright now?” he asked.
“The healer’s bill was quite hefty, but he will live,” Babkin said.
“Hmmm. I know someone who’s interested in alchemy. He might be able to hire on as a tutor if he needs some work. I could ask?”
“He would likely appreciate that. He expressed strong displeasure at the thought of bunking in a refugee camp for the winter.”
“I’ll see if I can find him something to do for the winter,” Nym promised. “Will I be able to contact you through Archmage Veran?”
Leaf started laughing. “Using an archmage as your messenger service? You’ve got God’s own testicles hanging off you.”
Nym waved him off. “He owes me a few favors now.”
“He what?” Stelton said next to him. “Why would he… No, none of my business. I’m not even sure why I’m here.”
“Because you were part of the team that helped clean up this entire mess,” Leaf said. He winked at the woman, who blushed in response. Then he added, “And because I told Veran to invite you.”
“Well I see why she’s here,” Grom said dryly. “Why am I?”
“Because I told Veran to invite you for Babkin,” Leaf shot back.
“I… what?”
“He is joking,” Babkin told the sergeant. “You are far too scrawny for me.”
“I feel like I should be offended,” Grom said. “But then again, who’s not too scrawny for you?”
“You should see some of the women down south,” Leaf said.
The food was good and the banter entertaining. Nym had some concerns, but overall, it was a fine dinner and he was glad he’d decided to attend. He was, until it was time to end it. Archmage Veran started teleporting guests away after speaking with each for a minute, and Nym was ready to return to his own room.
Jaspar Feldstal slid into the seat opposite him shortly after Babkin left. “Good evening,” he said. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
Nym eyed him warily. “That depends on what you want to talk about.”
“Oh, this and that,” the nobleman said lightly. “We didn’t get a chance to speak over dinner. I wanted to inquire after my daughter, as well as a few other things. I haven’t had much of a chance to speak to her lately.”
“She’s doing fine,” Nym said. He met Lord Feldstal’s gaze and waited for him to reply. If Analia wanted her father to know how she was doing, she would tell him herself. He certainly wasn’t going to elaborate.
The dining room continued to empty while they talked, and, perhaps noticing a sudden rise in tension, the guests started clearing out much faster. Soon enough, it was just Nym, Lord Feldstal, and their host left.
“Jaspar,” Archmage Veran said, “Are you ready to depart?”
“One moment, please. I had a few topics I wanted to touch on with our young friend, but they were sensitive enough that I felt it prudent to hold off until the rest of your guests had departed.”
“Nym?” the archmage asked.
Nym locked eyes with Lord Feldstal. “It’s… fine. We can talk.”
“Splendid.” The nobleman’s mouth curled up into a grin. “First, let me congratulate you. You’ve been particularly impressive this last month or so. But then, I’d expect nothing less, all things considered.”
Nym just stared at him.
“Yes, fine. Down to business, I see. Very well then.”
Nym took the next few days easy. It turned out he’d botched quite a few things trying to heal himself, and what he’d done right had been more of an accident than anything. Archmage Veran patched him up enough to keep him alive, but neither of them had the energy to do more right then. The problem was easily remedied by a visit to an accomplished healer, one who just looked at the hack job he’d done of it, shook her head, and recommended not trying to do it himself next time.
He agreed with her, but didn’t feel like he needed to justify his actions by explaining the circumstances leading up to his experiments in surgery. She fixed him up, he gave her a crest, and then he left. That was all he’d wanted out of visiting the clinic, and he was perfectly happy with the work she’d done.
What he wasn’t happy about was the state of his soul well. He’d barely gotten the thing patched up, and now he was right back in there repairing the nodes that the corpse root had mangled. It was a small consolation that he at least knew what he needed to do to fix his matrix, and he suspected he’d be back to full strength by the end of the week unless things went sideways.
It did mean he missed the big event where they sealed up the tear once and for all. Nym heard that Archmage Veran had called in one of his colleagues to help, and that the two archmages assisted by sixty third circle mages patched the whole thing up right this time. Nym didn’t see him that day or the next, but the wards blocking access to his private chambers were fully powered for days on end.
One day, while Nym was eating breakfast and reading a book on the intricacies of reconnecting severed limbs, the archmage popped into existence across the table from him. Nym jerked so hard that the bread roll he was eating flew out of his hands and bounced off the wall. He caught it with a burst of telekinetic arcana before it could hit the floor, then shot Archmage Veran a scowl.
“You didn’t even form that into a proper spell,” the old man noted.
“It wasn’t that heavy, and I didn’t have that much time. How could you tell?”
“The way the roll flopped through the air like that. Your telekinesis spells mimic motions your own body would do, but that one didn’t.”
“I guess that’s true. Are you feeling better?”
“As much as I can at my age. How are you doing?”
“Still cleaning up the damage, but I should be done in another day or two.”
“That’s good to hear. I will be hosting a small dinner for our companions from our adventures tonight here. You are welcome to attend, but I will understand if you do not want to. If you’d prefer, I can drop you off outside the sanctum so you can finish your recovery with your own friends. You would of course be welcome to return when you’re ready. I have not forgotten my debts, after all.”
“I’ll go,” Nym said. “As long as you don’t expect me to do anything but eat your food, at least.”
Archmage Veran laughed. “That will be fine, I think. I realize that we’re a bit behind on our work together, but I should have significantly more time to assist you starting tomorrow.”
“I’ll look forward to it, or maybe dread it. I’m not sure yet.”
“I won’t hold it against you if you feel the need to curse my name over the next few weeks,” the archmage assured him. “God knows I cursed yours often enough when I was learning to channel fifth layer arcana.”
“That’s not reassuring,” Nym said dryly. He finished his roll and added, “How did sealing the tear go.”
“It’ll hold for the rest of my natural lifespan,” Archmage Veran said, his voice suddenly tired. “It’s not a true fix though. I doubt anything less than an actual ascendant working on it would reverse the damage. The work itself was quite boring. I did the equivalent to holding the cart up while Teltin changed the wheel. Oh, sorry, Teltin is a Nordramese archmage I sometimes collaborate with. It was a thoroughly exhausting day in which very little of excitement occurred.”
“Glad I missed it then,” Nym muttered. With his luck, showing up would have caused the reaper to burst through the tear into their reality and kill everyone. He had no idea how that would have happened, but it honestly wouldn’t have surprised him. It was just another reason to hurry up and make it to the fifth layer so that he could see if it was possible to regain his lost magic without the personality that came with it.
He hadn’t missed the not-so-subtle hint that an ascendant could solve their problems for them. Nym wasn’t even a real ascendant, not in his mind at least, and he was already starting to understand why they didn’t hang around with regular humans. The last thing he wanted was to live his life solving the problems of every random jerk who found him in the streets.
Some of the big ones, like a tear between the Veil of life and death, would warrant his attention, of course. He wasn’t heartless. Maybe he’d come back to that and fix it properly once it was within his power to do so. That could still be years away if the whole memory cube thing didn’t work though.
“So it’s done then? Nothing left but to hunt down the loose undead, which won’t be repopulating anymore? Then the rebuilding?”
“Probably. It’ll start getting cold soon, long before any of the towns have been rebuilt in any meaningful way. Your earth mage friends could no doubt find a decent amount of work in the area.”
Nym shook his head. “They’re heading south for warmer weather. I’m not sure they’d want to come back here anyway, but I’ll let them know.”
The conversation meandered away from heavy topics after that, and soon enough breakfast was over. Archmage Veran left to attend to things, citing a need to catch up on Academy business, and Nym kept himself safe from boredom by browsing a few of the many, many books stored in the sanctum library.
* * *
The normal table had disappeared from the dining room, and in its place was a monstrosity easily twenty feet long and big enough to seat seven or eight to a side with plenty of elbow room. That was good, because Archmage Veran’s guest list was larger than Nym had expected.
Everyone from their most recent adventure was there, and so were Babkin, Grom, and Stelton. A man Nym didn’t recognize sat next to the archmage, and he quickly figured out from eavesdropping on the two army mages that he was the Nordramese archmage. Nym wasn’t exactly keen to meet someone so powerful, and he hoped his mentor was keeping his secrets.
Speaking of secrets, he was less than thrilled to see Lord Jaspar Feldstal at the table. The nobleman didn’t go out of his way to talk to Nym, which suited him just fine. In fact, they were seated on the same side with five people between them. All the important people were up at the head near Archmage Veran. Nym was back at the far end with Grom and Stelton. Babkin sat across from him, and Leaf was next to the burly innkeeper.
Babkin did not look good. Even after a few weeks of recovery time, he had that sallow, wasted look of someone who’d been sick for a long, long time. Nym waited until everyone was seated and platters of food started appearing out of thin air to float down onto the table. The aura of arcana around Archmage Veran gave the trick away: he was teleporting the dishes in from another room.
Once they’d had a chance to get started, he said, “Are you alright? You look terrible.”
Babkin rumbled out a laugh, but it was a pale echo of his former robustness. “Berserker magic is not gentle. I will recover, eventually.”
“I’m keeping an eye on him,” Leaf added. “I don’t think we’ll be participating in the clean up though. The whole group is going on vacation.”
“My inn has been destroyed anyway,” Babkin grumbled. “The entire town was flattened. Cern was very nearly killed when his shop blew up.”
Nym winced. He was by no means an alchemical expert, but he distinctly remembered the aftermath of one of Cern’s accidents in a controlled setting. The idea of some of his reagents being randomly smashed together sent a shiver down his spine. “Is he alright now?” he asked.
“The healer’s bill was quite hefty, but he will live,” Babkin said.
“Hmmm. I know someone who’s interested in alchemy. He might be able to hire on as a tutor if he needs some work. I could ask?”
“He would likely appreciate that. He expressed strong displeasure at the thought of bunking in a refugee camp for the winter.”
“I’ll see if I can find him something to do for the winter,” Nym promised. “Will I be able to contact you through Archmage Veran?”
Leaf started laughing. “Using an archmage as your messenger service? You’ve got God’s own testicles hanging off you.”
Nym waved him off. “He owes me a few favors now.”
“He what?” Stelton said next to him. “Why would he… No, none of my business. I’m not even sure why I’m here.”
“Because you were part of the team that helped clean up this entire mess,” Leaf said. He winked at the woman, who blushed in response. Then he added, “And because I told Veran to invite you.”
“Well I see why she’s here,” Grom said dryly. “Why am I?”
“Because I told Veran to invite you for Babkin,” Leaf shot back.
“I… what?”
“He is joking,” Babkin told the sergeant. “You are far too scrawny for me.”
“I feel like I should be offended,” Grom said. “But then again, who’s not too scrawny for you?”
“You should see some of the women down south,” Leaf said.
The food was good and the banter entertaining. Nym had some concerns, but overall, it was a fine dinner and he was glad he’d decided to attend. He was, until it was time to end it. Archmage Veran started teleporting guests away after speaking with each for a minute, and Nym was ready to return to his own room.
Jaspar Feldstal slid into the seat opposite him shortly after Babkin left. “Good evening,” he said. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
Nym eyed him warily. “That depends on what you want to talk about.”
“Oh, this and that,” the nobleman said lightly. “We didn’t get a chance to speak over dinner. I wanted to inquire after my daughter, as well as a few other things. I haven’t had much of a chance to speak to her lately.”
“She’s doing fine,” Nym said. He met Lord Feldstal’s gaze and waited for him to reply. If Analia wanted her father to know how she was doing, she would tell him herself. He certainly wasn’t going to elaborate.
The dining room continued to empty while they talked, and, perhaps noticing a sudden rise in tension, the guests started clearing out much faster. Soon enough, it was just Nym, Lord Feldstal, and their host left.
“Jaspar,” Archmage Veran said, “Are you ready to depart?”
“One moment, please. I had a few topics I wanted to touch on with our young friend, but they were sensitive enough that I felt it prudent to hold off until the rest of your guests had departed.”
“Nym?” the archmage asked.
Nym locked eyes with Lord Feldstal. “It’s… fine. We can talk.”
“Splendid.” The nobleman’s mouth curled up into a grin. “First, let me congratulate you. You’ve been particularly impressive this last month or so. But then, I’d expect nothing less, all things considered.”
Nym just stared at him.
“Yes, fine. Down to business, I see. Very well then.”
