Even though Tala didn’t need much sleep in general, she slept long and hard that night.
The talk with Lyn had been relieving, but also particularly emotionally draining at the same time.
She finally awoke when the sun was well over the horizon of her sanctum, showing that it was midmorning, practically halfway to noon.
She didn’t fade into wakefulness, instead coming fully to consciousness in an instant.
Tala found herself staring up at her ceiling, the light falling gently on the side of her face as she enjoyed the warmth of her artificial sun.
Her first thought was an odd one, as she really should have had it before. Why did an arcane carve that pattern into my ceiling?
-Good morning, Tala. I see you’re feeling contemplative, this morning.-
Morning, Alat.Do we have anything pressing today?
-Just eating, probably some exercise. Also, contemplating ceilings, it seems.-
Those tasks sound quite doable. As to the carving, I guess I never really thought about it. Tala sat up, stretching as she sat on the edge of her bed before she stood.-We could pursue Flow’s new sheath today, too. Unless you plan a thoroughly exhaustive investigation.-
Tala decided to ignore Alat’s poking. Ahh, right. The sheath would be a good center point to our tasks, today.
She moved through her stretching routine before doing a basic exercise set.
Tala felt like her morning was incomplete, because she couldn’t really do her magical or soul exercises.
Soon. It had obviously been weeks since she could really do those exercises, but it still felt wrong to leave them undone.
With her somewhat unsatisfying morning routines complete, she left her bedroom by way of the exit door. You know, I wonder how much control I can give to someone like Master Simon?
There had been tokens of access that the arcanes had given to her when they finished the outfitting of the space, but Thron had let her know that it hadn’t actually seemed to change what he could do.
He hadn’t been able to summon the door to himself or enact changes within the space.
He was never attacked, even when he entered through the welcoming bunker, though.
-That does seem to be their primary function, yeah.-
So, the tokens allowed safe passage through the defensive bunker in which the door to the outside usually waited. That was something.
Blessedly, Tala had to key each to a specific person, so even in a standard sanctum they wouldn’t be too much of a weak point, since they couldn’t be stolen and used by others.
Kit, though… Kit would likely just eat anyone that wasn’t supposed to be there.
I’ll have to have a talk with Kit about that… To be fair, none of the animals had gone missing, at least none that she could tell.
There was a total of ten tokens, and Tala remembered there being a template for the creation of more. Those she had, she could reset, but Thron hadn’t actually given his back. Huh… I did not think of that… at all.
-Well, I’m glad we didn’t give him a weapon of tremendous power or anything.-
Tala directed an internal glare at Alat. You know, Mistress Ingrit hasn’t commented on the concept weapon at all.
-Oh, that’s because I didn’t include it in the memories I sent to her… I thought that’s what we agreed?-
She blinked a few times. Oh… huh. Did we? She frowned. Why didn’t she notice the discrepancies?
-Because there weren’t any? All I did was remove the weapon being identified as a concept weapon, shifting the memory slightly to make it seamless. It was actually very much like what I did for Tali, though I had to complete the alterations to a much higher standard.-
And there were other things you didn’t include or modified, like my dreams and other things of a purely personal nature.
-Precisely.-
Well, in either case, that’s probably for the best that we didn’t mention that weapon. Humans can’t even use it, after all.
-Yeah, we don’t want our bad decisions scrutinized, nor do we want to cause kill-squads to be sent after someone we parted with on at least reasonable terms.-
Tala grimaced. You’re just a bundle of fun this morning, aren’t you?
Alat simply sent the impression of a beaming smile.
I need breakfast before I deal with this kind of thing…
She had stepped out into Lyn’s hallway within the obviously empty house.
Lyn and Kannis would be at work, and Rane knew better than to drop by without at least announcing himself via Archive message.
-Oh! About that—-
“Tala! There you are.”
“GAH!” Tala jumped backwards in surprise, jerked out of her inward-focused thoughts.
Rane had been sitting in one of the reading chairs, a book propped open on his lap. He stood and tucked the book away with a practiced motion. “Good morning.”
Tala felt her eye twitch as she struggled to pull her mind back together.
-Rane communicated via the Archive nearly two hours ago, saying that he’d brought breakfast over, whenever you are ready to eat. He’ll go train just before lunch, as usual.-
She took a deep breath and directed her fiercest internal glare at Alat.
The alternate interface simply returned the equivalent of a shrug. -It wasn’t important.-
Until it was.
-Until it was.- Alat agreed.
Rane had obviously noticed Tala’s surprise. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to startle you. I can leave the food on the table and let you have the rest of the morning to yourself?”
Tala sighed, then shook her head. “Food? Yes. You leaving? Not now. But I would appreciate the opportunity to eat in peace, undisturbed.”
She still wasn’t awake, and it was too soon after waking for social interaction.
At least until I’ve had some food.
“Of course.” He grinned, going over to the dining table and pulling out a small pile of breakfast sandwiches. They weren’t quite as warm as they would have been had they been kept within Kit, but they still looked amazing.
“Thank you, Rane. That is incredibly kind. What do I owe you?”
He pulled an expression of long-suffering before shaking his head and told her. “Three silvers,”—his eyes narrowed—“and that includes the ‘delivery fee.’”
Tala rolled her eyes but smiled in response. “Fine.”
-Transferred.-
Over the last weeks, Rane had been picking up food for her quite often, especially while she was recovering from Refining, and Tala did not like the idea of accepting charity.
Rane had refused repayment, not even telling her what the food had cost him. He had been staunch in his refusal until she began transferring a full gold for every meal.
Even then, he only grudgingly told her, and she’d started insisting on paying him for the time.
Was it a bit petty?
Yes, yes it was, but Tala didn’t want to build up any other debts now that she was free and clear.
-Right, because paying a Fused some silver for a personal food run is a fair wage. He’s but a common servant, running to and fro at your beck and call. Absolutely. Yes, no social credit being accrued, here.-
Hush, you. Yes, it’s kind of him. Yes, it’s nice. That is all.
Rane sat back down, pulling his book out once more and continuing to read, giving her the silence that she’d requested and had been expecting.
Now, food.
All told, the remainder of the morning passed quickly.
After Tala finished her breakfast, she and Rane played a quick game of tafl, but that was all the time they had before Rane left for his training.
Tala had taken the defensive position, and Rane ended up maneuvering her king into a wonderfully executed trap, sealing his victory.
This time. “Good game.”
He smiled and gave a small nod of his head. “To you as well. I was sure that you saw the positioning and were just waiting to spring a counter-trap. Even so, I can’t say I’m sorry to have been wrong.”
She chuckled. “Not this time, I’m afraid.”
They both preferred the hard-fought games, where it was anyone’s game until the very last moments.
This time it had appeared that Tala was running away with the victory, until the trap manifested.
I need to be more watchful, I suppose.
-Are you sure you don’t want me to help?-
Absolutely not… though it might be fun to play against you some time.
-Sure. That would be nice.-
She saw Rane to the door, and when it clicked shut, she simply stood there for a long minute.
Well, I need lunch, and we need to go by the Constructionists for a new sheath.
-Sheath first, so that they can get started, in case it takes a while?-
Sure. That would probably be wise.
Half an hour later, she stepped through the magical field which kept the guildhall warm, noted the scan of her magics, and heard the familiar ding resounding from the back.
“Mistress.” The attendant rushed out with smooth steps, stopping two paces away and bowing deeply. “How can the Constructionists serve the Refined Archon?”
Tala frowned slightly, then realized that this was the first time she’d come in since her advancement.
That was hardly surprising, given her lack of need for new magical items, along with her physical state since, but she hadn’t really considered that she’d be treated any differently.
-And you provided a lot of insights into arcane artifact-craft to the Constructionists as a whole. If Mistress Ingrit’s tallies are accurate, and they seem to be, then nearly every senior member of this guild, in every city, has acquired one or more of your memories. It isn’t unreasonable that they’d have added special dispensations for you.-
Well, there’s one way to find out. “Do you know who I am?” She made sure to make her tone confusedly curious, rather than cutting or arrogant.
“Not specifically, Mistress, but we are notified when friends of the guild enter. Many do not wish their names to be known widely, so we get a generic alert that such an Archon has entered the building.” He bowed again. “I meant no offense. Would you prefer I change the indicator?”
“No offense given. I think it is fine as it is, I was just curious.”
He straightened, a relieved smile on his face. “Certainly, Mistress. How can I assist?”
“I wish to acquire a sparring sheath for my soul-bound weapon. This branch made one for me when the weapon was less powerful. It has seen some significant upgrades since then, and I am concerned that it will need something a bit more comprehensive when I get back to sparring in a few weeks.”
“Absolutely. May I scan the weapon?” He pulled out a stone that positively blazed to Tala’s magesight.
“Certainly.” She drew Flow and held it out on her palm.
Magics from the stone passed through every part of the weapon as the attendant passed the stone over Flow, carefully keeping it from touching the knife.
After a brief moment, the attendant frowned. “Pardon the question, Mistress, but do you hold a part of the weapon within your body?”
She was almost irritated by the question, but she quickly realized that it could be critical. “Yes, at this moment.”
“Understood.”—he bowed again, a professional smile firmly in place across his features—“While I do not need to scan you, the senior Constructionist who assists you will need to be aware of this added complication.”
“Certainly.”
He finished up the scan in short order and tucked the device away. “With that done, I can find which Archon would be best for this commission. Is there a timeframe in which you need it completed?”
“I would prefer within the next few weeks. Sooner would be preferred but not required.”
There was obvious relief in the young man’s eyes. “That is certainly workable, Mistress. Have you acquired an Archive connection?”
“I have.”
“Then, we can reach out to you through the Archive when we have a Constructionist available to meet with you and begin the commission.”
Right, they scanned me when I came in. They have my aura-signature, and that would make it trivially easy to grant me access to a missive within the Archive. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
“Expect a message within the week. In the worst case, it will simply let you know that we are still searching. Even so, I do not expect that to be an issue.”
Tala smiled and gave a small bow. “As you say. Thank you. Good day.”
“Good day, Mistress.” He bowed much more deeply in return, and they parted ways.
* * *
It only took two days before Tala received a missive from the Constructionists, stating that an expert could meet with her that afternoon.
Thus, she returned to the guildhall, where she was greeted by the assistant on duty and led down a different set of side hallways than she’d ever traversed before.
They were constructed in the same manner and design, seemingly exactly like all the other hallways within the complex.
The only distinguishing characteristics were signs at the cross corridors that used symbols Tala was unfamiliar with.
Blessedly, it wasn’t actually that long of a walk before she was ushered into a smaller workshop, and the attendant bowed her goodbye.
Smaller, in this sense, meant roughly the size of Lyn’s entire house, rather than the merging rooms which were often two or three times larger.
The sole occupant of the workshop waved over her shoulder and called out. “One moment, please, I am just finishing up.”
“Of course.” Tala replied amiably and took the brief moment to look around and take in the well-organized but cluttered space.
There were dozens of weapons in various stages of construction—and from the looks of it, deconstruction—on worktables and racks, each giving off various auras of power.
More interestingly, there seemed to be heavily magical tokens tied to each weapon, giving off slightly different auras to her magesight.
Each was clearly hooked into the city grid for power, but the magic they emitted, while flavored, was more akin to that coming from various Mages, rather than power designed to create a specific effect.
Are those… magical teabags?
-Really? That’s the analogy you draw? They seem to be translators, changing the pure city power into a mimicry of that of the mages who first empowered each weapon.-
That… Well, she knew it was possible. That was what her through-spike did, in a sense. She’d just never considered this application of aura signature matching.
Along with the weapons, there were countless sheaths and materials that were clearly in various stages of progress towards being made into finished sheaths.
There were quite a few magical tools as well, seemingly for the working of the various materials from metal and stone to wood and cloth.
In all honesty, there was more on each table than Tala could easily identify with any rapidity, and the Archon who owned this space had finished up what she was doing and turned around.
“Greetings, Mistress Tala I presume?”
“Yes.” Tala smiled, giving a slight bow. She couldn’t see the woman’s aura at all.
“I am Mistress Airim.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Airim.”
“’A pleasure,’ hmmm? Well, that’s kind of you to say, even if such flattery is not unexpected. You do come to ask me to create something for you, after all.” A happy twinkle sparkled in her eye. “I can see that you are at the beginning of Refined. Congratulations on that progress, whether it was recent or long ago.”
Tala saw a flicker as the woman allowed her own aura to show through for a moment. Late Bound… That’s it? Really?
“Was I correct in identifying your magesight inscriptions as always active?”
“I… yes.” She found herself blinking in surprise. “You can see past my through-spike’s illusion?”
“Yes, Refined, but only within this space. I am heavily connected to my workshop, and here, I can see the true nature of things.” She smiled. “The effect is magnified the further you come inside, which is why I am highlighting it now. If you don’t want to reveal hidden truths to me, I suggest you stay just inside the doorway.”
“That’s… thank you for the honesty.” Now that it was mentioned, Tala could see that there was a magic in the air, hiding in plain sight due to its pervasiveness. More than that, the weaponry and sheaths towards the back of the space seemed, in general, more complex, magically speaking.
“Of course.” Mistress Airim waved the comment away. “It is only polite. Now, I understand you want a sparring sheath?”
“Yes.”
“May I see the weapon?”
Tala drew Flow and held it out, handle first.
Mistress Airim took the few steps forward and took the handle with respectful gentleness. “Bound to you, obviously.”
The Bound’s eyes widened.
“You have advanced three stages while it was bound to you.” She looked up. “You bound this weapon while still a Mage?”
Tala simply nodded in mute astonishment at the woman’s ability to discern such.
“Fascinating.” Mistress Airim turned and walked deeper into her spacious work area. “A limited, morphic weapon. Three forms. Merged with arcanous harvests, Leshkin weaponry—” Her head snapped up, and she spun to face Tala once again. “The void? What’s the matter with you?”
Tala opened her mouth to respond, but Mistress Airim was already paling.
“My apologies, my apologies. That was not appropriate.” She looked back down at the weapon, turned away, and walked deeper. “What is this?”
She seemed to have already forgotten her own outburst.
“There’s somehow a conceptual weight to the weapon. Was this passed down through your family?” But the question was obviously not directed at Tala.
“I could just tell—”
Mistress Airim held up a hand. “No, no. It is better that I learn it from the weapon without the taint of your perception.”
Tala shrugged and leaned against the wall, listening and waiting. She kept her focus on her magesight, trying to determine if the ambient magics were shifting, but they didn’t seem to be.
“No, this doesn’t have conceptual weight, not really. So, what is it?”
Mistress Airim was pacing side to side by this point.
“No... Really? It imparts an enhanced conceptual alteration?”
The woman seemed utterly baffled if her tone was any indication.
“Ownership? That’s a weighty concept, indeed, but it’s tied to a single element… iron?” She looked up at Tala. “You have an item that magically manipulates the conception of ownership… over iron.”
“Yes.” Tala smiled, feeling rather proud of herself and what she’d been able to bring about.
“Are you insane?” The woman did not sound impressed. In fact, she sounded genuinely concerned.
Tala blinked at that. “I… What?”
“Iron. It’s anti-magical.”
“I am aware, yes.”
Mistress Airim shook her head. “No, no, no. Do you know why it’s anti-magical?”
“Why?” Tala frowned. She’d never really considered that. “No? I can’t say that I do.”
“It’s fundamentally tied to the powers of reality.”
Tala felt her eyes go wide as so much clicked into place.
Well, rust…
-Oh… I see it now. No wonder Master Grediv was suspicious.-
Yeah, no joke.
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