Transcendence, page 26
part #6 of The Beginning After The End Series
“There must be elements you’re more comfortable using,” Olfred said.
I nodded. “There are.”
“Hey, shall Mica teach you how to manipulate gravity?”
I scooted back to avoid the smell of grilled fish on Mica’s breath. “I think it’s more of a practical issue than anything. There are times when I can use it, but it’s just not something I’m confident in.”
“It’s really easy, you know,” Mica insisted, holding out a palm. “You just have to imagine the world going up or down. Then you grab it in your hand and release!”
Unable to understand Mica’s incomprehensible explanation, I looked back to Olfred.
The old dwarf rolled his eyes. “You’d have an easier time learning from a pebble. Miss Earthborn comes from a long line of famous dwarven conjurers, but even among them, she’s considered a genius. She’s learned magic through intuition—she doesn’t even know the rudimentary concepts of mana manipulation.”
“Earthborn?” I repeated. “Where have I heard that name before?”
“Her ancestors founded Earthborn Institute,” he answered simply, going back to his book.
I stared at the childlike Lance in a daze. I knew that all the Lances had distinct strengths, but it had never occurred to me that this seemingly ditzy mage would be from such an influential family. Not much of dwarven history was taught or even written in Sapin, but Earthborn Institute still stood out as one of the main reasons dwarves were on par with the kingdom of Sapin, despite their smaller population and territory. Even after Xyrus Academy had begun accepting different races, many of the dwarven nobles still chose to send their children to Earthborn for their more specific disciplines and areas of study suited for dwarves.
“Mica’s amazing on top of being beautiful, right?” The small dwarf puffed out her chest.
General Olfred scoffed, his face hidden behind his book. “This again? I applaud your confidence, but if you’re so beautiful, why is it that you have no experience in relationships, even though you’re nearing fif—”
He couldn’t finish his sentence—he had to defend himself against a massive war axe that had seemingly appeared out of thin air. The ground beneath the old general split from the sheer force exerted by General Mica.
With an innocent smile that seemed to contain a ferocious demon inside, Mica swung her weapon down once more. “My, grumpy old Olfred is getting ahead of himself. You should know that the reason I have yet to invest in a man is that my tastes don’t run to standard dwarves.”
I scooted back closer to Sylvie, not wanting to be a part of this dispute.
‘I think I liked her more when she referred to herself in the third person,’ Sylvie admitted.
I wholeheartedly agree.
Olfred, who had instantly erected a shield of solidified earth above him to guard against his companion’s weapon, scoffed. “Please. The only reason you weren’t blatantly ostracized is because of your background. Perhaps you’ll find a human with a unique taste for little girls to sweep you off your feet.”
The force of gravity increased around us, and I found it hard to breathe without the help of mana to strengthen my body. The fire had gone out, the wood that had been burning a few moments ago reduced to ash.
I stared at the two of them, dumbfounded at the sight of two Lances—the epitome of power in all of Dicathen—fighting like children.
Not wanting to get involved, but equally unsure how far the pair would take their scuffle, I said, “We’ll attract attention if you two keep this up.”
Ignoring me, General Mica swung her giant axe once more, but rather than cleave the stone golem that General Olfred had conjured, her axe obliterated it, turning it into pebbles. “I don’t see you with a lover in your arms, Oldfred!”
“The fact that you were able to become a Lance despite your childish antics never ceases to amaze me,” Olfred grunted as he erected another golem, this time much larger.
Feeling like an academy trainer breaking up a couple overexcited recruits, I gathered water particles from the nearby trees and hosed the dwarves down until they were both dripping wet.
They whipped their heads around at me, eyes glaring.
“Are you guys done or do you want to level a mountain while you’re at it?”
Mica clicked her tongue. “It’s Oldfred’s fault, bringing up a lady’s age.”
“Those born sipping milk from silver goblets need to be educated about their ignorance,” Olfred muttered.
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I watched as they each retreated to their own corner of the camp. With a single stomp of her tiny foot, General Mica erected a cottage from the ground. Almost large enough to fit Sylvie, the stone house even had textured walls, and came equipped with a chimney that soon began puffing smoke.
General Olfred, on the other hand, chose to build his lair within the side of the cliff just a few feet away from our camp. The earthen cliffside in front of him glowed a deep red and began melting to form a pool of molten rock. A large area hollowed out almost immediately, and I was able to catch a glimpse of the detailed stone furniture inside before the Lance closed the gaping entrance without even glancing back.
“Very covert,” I muttered helplessly. Then I turned back and crawled underneath one of Sylvie’s black wings, using it as a makeshift tent.
‘You might be more comfortable conjuring a tent as well,’ Sylvie suggested.
I’ll feel safer here in case they decide to do something while I sleep, I replied sluggishly.
I drifted in and out of consciousness as scenes from my past life flashed through my mind, interspersed with the peaceful moments of slumber. Memories I wanted to forget resurfaced like worms on a rainy day.
After the night Headmaster Wilbeck was murdered, my goals had changed. Despite both Nico and Cecilia trying to convince me to go to school, I had no intention of trying to be a normal boy like the headmaster had wanted me to be. I hated myself for being unable to protect her—the woman who had raised me like a mother when every other adult had regarded me as a pest or burden. She had taken me in, wanting nothing in return except my happiness—and for a time, I thought I had found it.
During that short period in my life, with Nico and Cecilia by my side in the orphanage and Headmaster Wilbeck to watch out for us and scold us, I was as happy as any normal child. She had no sins—she did nothing wrong. The headmaster was the type of person to give up her own lunch to a homeless man on the street, yet life had repaid her kindness with a horrible and bloody death.
The orphanage was left in the charge of another headmaster; after a few months, the other kids carried on like nothing had ever happened.
Not me, though. I had become obsessed with finding out who had sent those killers after me and Nico and Cecilia—who had killed Headmaster Wilbeck.
Nico’s words rang clearly. “What are you even going to do once you find them? You’re going to take them out all on your own? With your ability?”
That was when I realized I had to get stronger. Withdrawing my application to the school, I enrolled in one of the military institutes, where they trained candidates for the army.
Both Nico and Cecilia tried to talk me out of it. They urged me to give the school a chance to break me free of my obsession. Looking back on it, I wished I had listened to them then. My life would’ve been much less painful and lonely if I had.
But the thing I regretted even more than rejecting their advice was allowing them to follow me into the training institute. I had advised them against it at the time, but if I had only tried harder—pushed them further away from me—perhaps my life would’ve been the only one affected.
‘Arthur. We should depart before the sun rises.’ My bond’s voice rang gently, but I still woke up with a gasp.
‘You were having nightmares of your past life again,’ she stated.
You know about those? I asked, sitting up.
‘Yes. Although they come in flashes, I’m able to make them out. You seem to be getting them more frequently,’ she answered, concerned.
I’m sure it’s nothing, I replied, crawling out from underneath Sylvie’s wing.
‘I certainly hope that’s the case,’ she said dubiously.
I responded with a smile, drawing our mental conversation to an end.
“We’ll shoot for reaching the northern coast by the end of the day,” Olfred announced. He was destroying the stone shelters he and Mica had conjured, while Mica was covering up our camp in case adventurers or hunters strayed too close.
My suspicions of the two Lances’ involvement in the betrayal of Dicathen had lessened after their behavior last night, but I remained cautious. Conjuring a small gust of wind, I helped the two cover our tracks, and we were back on our way.
Chapter 32
Old Roots
A haze of magenta and orange spread throughout the horizon, giving life to the tranquil ocean in the distance. Sylvie and I plummeted toward the edge of the Grand Mountains. The darkened figures of Mica and Olfred cast shadows over us as they levitated down above us, preparing to catch me when Sylvie transformed into her fox-like form.
We were still several miles away from the northern coast, but we couldn’t risk flying any closer. Assuming the worst, a Scythe might be able to sense substantial mana fluctuations even from this distance.
Sylvie latched onto me as soon as she shrank. At the same time, I reached out, grabbing Mica’s outstretched hand. We slowly descended, close enough to the massive mountain range to avoid any unwanted attention. While I would have been able to land on my own easily enough, even from this height, I’d likely have flattened the trees nearby and perhaps even cratered the ground from the sheer force I’d have had to use to stop myself. As reluctant as I was to admit it, it was much simpler to just rely on the Lance to carry me down.
“That’s a pretty bad scar you have on your hand,” Mica remarked, her voice barely audible over the wind.
“It’s an old wound.” I cracked a smile. I had made sure to hide the scar on my throat with the concealing bandage, but the scar on my left hand was of little concern to people who didn’t know me well.
The small Lance nodded, her grip around my arm growing tighter despite her delicate-looking fingers.
We landed at the base of the Grand Mountains, on a field of dry grass and boulders. The frigid winds whistled around us.
“Mana should be kept to a minimum from this point on,” Olfred said as he scanned our surroundings for anyone nearby.
I nodded in agreement. With Mirage Walk, I was able to use mana without risk of detection, but that was information better kept to myself.
“I assume you have a plan for finding the retainer and Scythe in question?” the gruff Lance asked.
“Somewhat.” I took out the white mask I had gotten when I first became an adventurer, and the black coat made from the fur of a nightmare fox. I had worn it along with the mask, since it had the subtle ability to cast one’s focus away from the wearer. After putting the coat on over my clothes, I fished out a thick cloak from my dimension ring, dropped it on the ground, and stepped on it. After it was thoroughly soiled with dirt and grime, I picked it back up and threw it over my shoulders.
Olfred studied my black coat with a curious gaze. “An intriguing effect. Were you once an assassin or thief?”
“No,” I chuckled, looking down at my outfit. “I just didn’t want to stand out.”
With a dismissive nod, he took out his own lavish cloak of rich mana beast fur. Mica began to do the same, but I waved for her to wait.
Without saying a word, I took a second cloak from my ring and walked over to Mica. Dropping it on the ground, I stepped on it as well, staining the brown cloak with dirt and grass, then handed it to the small Lance. “Wear this instead.”
“You just dropped it and stepped on it!” Mica exclaimed, flabbergasted.
“Yes, that’s sort of the point. The two of us are going to be Olfred’s slaves,” I said, indicating my own dirty cloak.
“Why can’t Mica be the master?” she huffed, holding my spare cloak between two fingers.
“Because you have the appearance of a middle-schooler,” I answered bluntly with an innocent smile. Olfred grunted out a small laugh as he clasped his fur cloak around his neck.
Glaring daggers at her cohort, Mica reluctantly put her lavish cloak back into her ring and put on the dirty one I had given her.
“Sorry. This is a safety measure,” I said. Bending down, I dipped my finger into a muddy patch of dirt.
“No, please,” Mica begged, protecting her face with the hood of her cloak.
“We’re slaves who have been traveling a fair distance. It’s only natural that we would be dirty, and it’s a good way to get by unnoticed.” Without waiting for her consent, I pulled off her hood and smeared the moist dirt on her face before doing the same to myself.
I dipped my head down and tousled my long hair until it became disheveled and covered most of my face. After pulling up the hood of my cloak, I handed my white mask to Olfred. “Wear this along with your cloak—if anyone asks, it’s to hide a gruesome scar.”
Olfred nodded, accepting the mask. As he slid it on over his face and propped up his hood, I couldn’t help but be reminded of my time as an adventurer under the guise of Note.
The blue streak running down to the right eyehole of the mask had faded over the years, but Olfred was about as tall as I had been when I was an adventurer. Seeing him in the mask and cloak really brought back memories.
“It fits well,” Olfred said, his voice sounding deeper—an effect of the mask. “Oh? It has this sort of function as well.”
“Mica wants to go home,” the small dwarf sulked, her youthful face caked with dried mud. Her short hair poked out in messy curls from under the hood of the dirty, tattered cloak.
How’s my disguise? I asked my bond, turning to face her.
‘It’ll have to do, although it worries me to think what would happen if someone looked too closely.’ Her small feline head nodded in approval.
Why does that sound more like an insult than a compliment?
‘It’s a bit of both,’ she said, her teasing laughter filling my mind as she hopped inside my cloak; she needed to be hidden from view since I was posing as a slave.
“You’re positive no one will suspect us?” Olfred’s deep voice rumbled from behind the mask.
“No one’s going to be out looking for Lances, and there are quite a few adventurers that like to use masks,” I replied, trailing next to Mica behind our temporary master. “Besides, there’s an old saying that the best place to hide is in plain sight. Who’s going to suspect a noble and his two slaves who were raided by bandits on their way up north to escape the battles?”
“While you do make a point, I’ve never heard such a saying. Perhaps it’s used only by humans?” Olfred asked.
“Something like that,” I replied, remembering now that I had learned it in my previous life.
We trudged for hours, silently. I constantly used Mirage Walk to strengthen my legs with mana while hiding the fluctuations, satisfied that not even Mica and Olfred were able to notice.
In my head, Sylvie and I went over the plan that Virion and I had come up with. Assuming that both Olfred and Mica were traitors, I didn’t know what they planned on doing to me. Worst case was them killing me as soon as they had the chance; another possibility was that they would take me to the Vritra.
Whatever the case, the two dwarves wouldn’t attack me so brazenly with Sylvie around. Even if they were able to overpower us, it would be a hard fight and would attract attention even in the most remote areas. If I were them, I’d lead us to the retainer or Scythe in order to swiftly capture or dispose of us.
In order to make sure that the Lances, assuming that they were traitors, led us to their backup, I only had to intentionally act like I couldn’t find the enemy force myself.
With Realmheart, I could make use of the visible mana fluctuations to find the Vritra’s base. After a few days of leading them in the wrong direction, they would either give up and want to head back—which would prove my suspicions wrong—or they would provide me with suggestions or hints to lead Sylvie and me to our demise.
‘Your plan rests on a lot of assumptions,’ my bond noted, shuffling inside the pocket of my cloak. ‘What if they forcibly take you to the Vritra?’
I highly doubt they’d want to reveal their position. You can’t get much better than having one of the council members as a spy. Which is why it’s safe to assume that they’ll try to avoid suspicion until they’re sure they can get rid of us without drawing attention.
‘So we’ll just run away if it seems like they’re trying to lead us to them?’ Sylvie asked, her tone doubtful.
The best case scenario is that we find the location of the Vritra’s base and head back without fighting Olfred and Mica, I responded, following closely behind the masked noble posing as my master. But just in case, Virion sent another Lance behind us.
Sylvie didn’t answer, but a wave of surprise flooded my mind.
You can’t sense her at all, can you?
‘No, I can’t,’ she admitted. ‘Is it the elven Lance?’
Mm-hm. She was given the code name ‘Phantasm’ because of her ability to deceive and hide from opponents.
‘An assassin,’ Sylvie noted.
The two of us continued conversing mentally, making time pass more quickly as we trekked through the rugged plains.
Along the way, I activated Realmheart in brief increments, trying to catch any fluctuations of mana around us. I had to be careful to not let the two Lances see how my eyes changed from blue to light lavender, but my hood and long bangs helped me hide it.
As we continued our journey northwest, trees became more abundant as the plains slowly shifted into acres of woodland. I used Mana Rotation, the skill I’d learned from Sylvia, to constantly replenish my mana supply, and Mirage Walk to conceal the mana fluctuations around me caused by my use of magic. As a result, the time I spent walking had become a sort of training.
