Noah found Tim in the Transport Cannon. That was equal parts entirely surprising and expected. There hadn’t been any line leading up to the cannon. The last time he’d been to the cannon, there had been a number of Space Mages working together to keep it active for emergency operations. Now, it had been completely abandoned in the absence of the artifact that powered it.
When Noah got to the top of the tall, slightly perilous building, he found that more than just the popularity of the cannon had changed. It looked nothing like what it once had.
Papers covered the walls from floor to ceiling. They were covered with scribblings and designs that made about as much sense to Noah as a Demon Rune did to a normal mage. Stacks of books teetered on the edge, moments away from crashing to the ground yet hanging on desperately to life.
The smell of still-drying ink hung in the air and static electricity prickled against Noah’s skin. And in the center of it all, his expression shifting in shock, was Tim. The old man’s hair had grown considerably since they’d last met, forming a beard that would have given Santa Claus a solid run for his money. Tim held a cup of tea with two fingers. His other hand held a quill that was midway through a sentence upon a paper pinned to the wall. Ink dripped, marring his work, as he stared at Noah in disbelief.
“Vermil?” Tim breathed. His hand lowered, his quill leaving a long line of ink on the paper he’d been working on. “Is that you?”
“You really got to fix the settings on this thing,” Noah said with a wry smile. “I think it forgot to summon me back.”
“It is you!” Tim let out a delighted laugh and strode over to Noah, flinging his arms around him in a friendly hug. “Gods, Vermil! I thought you were dead! The Enforcers said you fell into the Damned Plains!”
Noah couldn’t help himself from grinning. He returned Tim’s hug and patted the old man on the back. “The rumors of my demise were entirely accurate. I can’t recommend the Damned Plains as a vacation spot, but it has its charm.”
Tim took a step back. He grabbed Noah by the shoulders and studied his features intently. “You mean…”
“Yes. I was actually there.”“But you’re here.”
“I made it out.”
“How?” Tim blinked heavily. “That should have been impossible. The amount of power needed to breach the barrier between the planes permanently… did someone open a path from you from our side? It shouldn’t have been possible to open one from your end. You would need…”
“An artifact of immense power,” Noah finished, pulling the key out from his pocket.
Tim’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “You got it back. But didn’t Wizen get it? How—”
“Wizen is dead. He and I had a chat, and he realized that he didn’t need to hold onto this thing anymore,” Noah said. He held the key out to Tim. “We both decided it would be in better hands here.”
“I — you’re giving it to me?” Tim asked. He took a step back and shook his head firmly. “Oh, no. Thank you Vermil, but the risk is too great. That item is far too powerful. The Cannon isn’t worth keeping active. As much as I love it, we’ve seen what people will do to get their hands on power.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. The power that Wizen used to rip open a portal to the Damned Plains is completely spent. This isn’t as powerful as it was before,” Noah said. He waved the key. “And if you don’t take it, I’m throwing it away.”
“Throwing it away?” Tim exclaimed, his eyes flashing in disbelief. “This is a treasure! An artifact from a lost age, Vermil! It must be kept and protected!”
“And who better to do that than someone who actually understands what it does?” Noah arched an eyebrow. “Arbitage doesn’t give a shit and we both know it. They barely care about their own students. This whole city is just a massive stockpile of weapons with a bunch of noble pricks that forgot what it is they sit upon.” R̃АŊô₿ÊS̈
Tim let out a snort of amusement. He studied the key for a long second, chewing his lower lip and shifting his weight from foot to foot.
Noah wiggled it.
“Are you certain of this?” Tim asked.
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“Can you tell me anyone would be better suited to look after it?”
The old man heaved a sigh. His lips pulled up in a smile and he reached out, accepting the key. Tim swallowed heavily as he stared down at the artifact in his hand. His fingers slowly closed over it and he slipped it into a pocket. “No. Thank you, Vermil. When this was stolen, I spent many long hours wondering what the future would hold. The Transport Cannon was my entire life. It was the only worthwhile thing I ever accomplished.”
“It was sorely underappreciated by Arbitage.”
“I would agree with that. But I had a lot of time to think, Vermil. After everything had died down and people wrote Wizen off. The other Space Mages left and the transport cannon just became a tower. I stayed, of course. I didn’t know what else to do. I stayed and thought.”
“So I can see,” Noah said as he looked around the room. Tim didn’t seem insane. There was some form of rhyme and reason to whatever he was writing, but Noah just didn’t have the slightest idea of what it was. Everything written on the papers was just completely beyond him.
Tim smiled at Noah’s expression. “It’s more than the key I must thank you for.”
“Really?” Noah blinked. “What else?”
“You gave me a paper shortly before you left,” Tim said. “I found it very useful. I’d never had a chance to see a Rune like that. And after the helping hand you gave me with my old problems… well, I spent a lot of time looking into that rune.”
“Oh, right!” Noah’s eyes lit up. He’d almost forgotten that he’d given Tim a Space Rune before he’d gone off to face Wizen. “You were able to use it?”
“I’ve always been fascinated by Space,” Tim said. “And when I was left alone with nothing but my own thoughts, I fear this old man may have been possessed by an arrogance that I have done nothing to earn. An ambition. Never had many of those, Vermil. Wasn’t my lot in life. But you hardly gave me much choice. That was a lot of responsibility, you know.”
“What, the rune?” Noah frowned and tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean? It was just a Rune, Tim. I was hoping it might be useful since you were going to be in want of some new ones after… well, you know. I didn’t mean to cause trouble for you.”
“Trouble?” Tim let out a cackle. “Oh, no, Vermil. Not trouble. I’ve studied Space for a long time. The methods that make the Transport Cannon work properly are quite intricate. But I’ve never had a chance to really get to know the magic myself. I always accessed it through a tool. Not quite the same thing. So when you gave me a chance to get up close and personal with a rune like that, I fear I couldn’t help myself. I just had so many questions! I wanted to see how things worked. So I got to testing.”
Noah glanced around the room. “This is research, then? On Space Runes?”
“On Space,” Tim corrected, raising a finger into the air. “See, I’ve read all the theory. At least, the theory I could get my hands on. People aren’t too open with it. I had a few chats with your brother. Nice lad. Big. He should really shrink a few inches, but no matter. He had some good insights, but everything I learned just made me want to know more. As you can see, I got carried away.”
“That doesn’t seem like something to apologize for. If anything, I’m just glad to see you in good spirits.”
“Vermil, I am not merely in good spirits. I am in great ones,” Tim said with a delighted laugh. “Every single question I answer just gives me a dozen more new ones. Isn’t it wonderful? All my research is organized here. I am compiling it.”
Organized is certainly a word. Not sure if it’s the one I’d use.
“Have you found anything, then?”
“Oh, yes. My apologies. I should have started with that. I’ve gotten a little scatterbrained as of late.” Tim snapped his fingers. Sparks of black energy arced from his hand and the air warped. A paper popped into existence before him — but Tim wasn’t done.
He swept his hand through the air. Energy crackled like a small thunderstorm. Papers appeared one after the other, forming in rapid-fire succession.
Noah’s eyes widened.
Isn’t Tim just Rank 3? Space Runes consume energy like no tomorrow, but he’s using them like it’s nothing.
“How are you doing this?” Noah asked.
“Oh, I’ve spent some time studying efficiency,” Tim said with a wave of his hand. “It’s of no concern. Something Brayden asked me to study. I have to get the results back to him, but this is far more important. Behold!”
He pointed at the papers. Their surfaces were covered with formulas that meant absolutely nothing to Noah.
“I… might be a little lost.”
“Space has magical weight!” Tim exclaimed in delight. “And not every location shares equal weight! The farther you get from Arbitage — from any Bastion, for that matter — the less magical weight there is, but the distribution of weight seems conical! Despite decreasing away from Bastions, it actually grows stronger toward the edges of the Empire!”
“…right. I’m afraid you’re going to have to dumb down why that’s important,” Noah said sheepishly.
“It means magic itself has spatial weight to it,” Tim, pausing for a moment to drink in the moment before he spoke again. “We already know the Bastions are magical stockpiles, which justifies their increased weight in comparison to the rest of the world. But then why would the magic decrease in a conical pattern as we approach the Empire’s edges? There could only be one reason.”
Noah’s spine prickled.
Hold on. Did Tim figure out—
“The Empire is either surrounded by a magical barrier of immense strength…” Tim whispered, excitement glittering behind his eyes. “Or we have been hidden by something. The distribution of spatial magic makes me certain of it. There is more out there, Vermil. An area with magic that makes what we have here look like a spark in comparison to an inferno. The Arbalest Empire is not the extent of this world. It is a sheltered cove.”
Holy shit. Tim figured out the truth of what the Arbalest Empire is entirely on his own.
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