Return of the Runebound Professor

Just a few months ago, Jalen would have been thrilled beyond words to hear that he would be routinely getting surprised into silence. Vermil had been an endless wellspring of fun — but this wasn’t funny anymore.

Jalen found that he didn’t like surprises nearly as much when he was at the butt of them.

He liked them even less when, even after the reveal, they made absolutely no sense.

The person that had broken into the Archives, who had carved through Imbuements with such surgical precision that he’d been convinced it was one of the strongest mages that the empire had ever seen, was the middling, paranoid member of his own family that had only just clawed his way into the Main Branch.

Impossible. Nothing adds up. Could he be working with someone else? Maybe the real threat is off getting whatever it is they came here for while Father remained back as a distraction with a plan to confuse the ever-loving shit out of me.

But if that’s the case… how was Father strong enough to dismiss my attack like that?

“If there’s anyone that shouldn’t be here, it’s you,” Jalen said. He cracked his neck. “Who are you working with, Father? Do you have the slightest idea as to what it is you’re trying to release on the empire?”

“I would wager that I know far more than you do,” Father replied. There was a faint clink as he shifted his weight and reached up to his cloak. It fell away from his body, revealing dozens of heavy red chains hanging from Father’s body like tinsel on a tree. They wrapped around his body and bound his ankles together, leaving him only enough room to shuffle.

Is he a prisoner? He certainly doesn’t sound under duress.

“I did not volunteer to be part of your bondage kink,” Jalen said, cracking his neck. “Time to stop playing, Father. I don’t know what you’re up to, but you’re playing with forces far more dangerous than you believe. All that work you did to get into the Main Branch isn’t going to be particularly useful if you get yourself killed here.”

Father’s lips stretched into a thin smile, but the amusement still didn’t meet his eyes.

“Any mild respect I might have for your abilities is marred by your insufferable personality,” Father said. “I wish I could say it brought me amusement that you arrived now, of all times, but I am afraid I simply don’t care. After all these years of waiting, I have what I need.”

“Don’t lecture me on waiting. I’m hundreds of years older than you are.”

Father’s grin widened. And, for the briefest moment, what almost looked like genuine amusement flickered behind his dark eyes.

“Oh, I highly doubt that. I’ve been waiting for a very long time. Do you even have any idea as to what this place is, Jalen? To what it holds?”

“I think we both know. It’s an armory from before the Long Night — which is why it’s so important none of this ever gets out. You’ve never been stupid, Father. You have to know what would happen if weapons like this made it out into the Empire. We’d destroy each other. It wouldn’t even be fun. Everything would just be gone.”

Jalen discreetly drew on his power, channeling his Runes while keeping his magic concealed by his domain.

“Wrong,” Father said.

Jalen frowned. “What?”

“This is not an armory. It is a tomb. There are civilizations of long past in which a king was buried with all of his servants. They are all clad in riches and wealth to protect the body of the true king from being looted. Such is the Archives. Here lies a diamond hidden within piles of gold.” ŕä𐌽ó฿Εŝ

“Fascinating,” Jalen said. “Tell me more.”

And then he sent a bolt of spatial lightning snapping through the air. Black cracks carved out faster than the eye could follow, covering the ground between him and Father before the crack of its passing could even ring out.

The lightning struck Father’s palm and shattered apart like fragments of broken glass. Father’s expression didn’t even change as they spun past him harmlessly.

“Within the Archives rest an artifact,” Father said, unperturbed. “One so powerful that a kingdom was destroyed to keep it hidden. An artifact whose mere touch would destroy a mage below the Rank of 7.”

“What are you on about?” Jalen asked, trying to hide the unease building within him. That was twice. Twice, Father had completely stopped his attacks from hitting their mark without so much as a modicum of effort.

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“The Empire of Arbalest. So many lies. So many covers. So much deceit that even the deceivers do not know that the truth they believe in is nothing but another lie,” Father said with a hollow laugh. “A war was fought to hide an artifact. And, when it was done, the cowardly survivors were too scared to claim their prize. So they locked it away. They sought out the weakest mages in the region and sent waves of monsters against them, arming the mages with magical weaponry and herding them into four great cities.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” Jalen asked, using the time Father was wasting monologuing to summon forth even more of his power. His attacks weren’t working. He had to try something else. Something more drastic — but he didn’t know what.

“When the weak mages managed to fight off the monsters, the last piece of bait was set. They were told to hide the weapons away, to protect their kingdom from being destroyed. The artifact was buried along with them, and all traces of the strong mages vanished. Of course, there were those who lived outside that continent. Those who were powerful — but the cowards were clever. They had lies for them as well. An experiment. A test, to see what new runes could be developed by mages that grew independently from the full resources of the world. Such is the greatest lie. One forged in truth.”

“You’re full of it,” Jalen said through a chuckle, but he was just buying time. “You’re telling me the Long Night was fake? That the Bastions, whose purpose is to defend the deadly weapons from that war, are just… what, bait? Nothing more than a cover story?”

“There is no just in this world,” Father said. “The Bastions are stockpiles of weapons. Guardians were selected to protect them, for they could do great damage to the empire. They are schools. They are research institutes. Those who advance to Rank 7 are removed from the empipre, and they often have new insights into runes. All of this is true.”

A sinking feeling set in Jalen’s stomach. There were a few too many pieces that fit too well from what Father said. It simply didn’t make any sense for him to lie. Jalen hadn’t been able to so much as touch him.

But, if he wasn’t lying…

“The Rank 7s are removed from the Empire because only a Rank 7 can touch the artifact,” Jalen said. “Is that what you’re implying?”

“The gap between 6 and 7 is a great one,” Father said. “One that would damage the delicate balance that this kingdom hangs in. One that would allow a mage to attempt to channel the artifact that is hidden within the kingdom. Genius, is it not? Truth within lies. Lies within truth. Everything was so carefully crafted. The records of the tombs were purged very thoroughly, but information can never be truly snuffed. Pieces always remain. Fragments of information known to each of the mage families. Fortunately, they would never be shared. After all… you hate each other. You were raised to hate each other.”

“Who are you?” Jalen asked.

Father gave him an empty smile. “I have gone by enough names to lose track of them. I was a King. I was a Herron. A Rivven. A Torrin. I have passed through nearly every family in this kingdom in my pursuit of knowledge. It has been so long since I have gone by my own name that I have almost forgotten it.”

“That’s why you wanted access to the Main Branch,” Jalen muttered. “You were trying to read our records?”

“It’s not so impressive to figure out once I’ve already revealed it to you,” Father said. The chains hanging from his body rattled. “You certainly made it easy. For more years than even you can count, I have hidden. I have rotted in the darkness, gathering information and evading notice. It took me centuries to stand in this spot.”

So that’s why the bastard never left his room. It must be Imbued to shit to hide his presence.

“Is it really wise to admit that you’re weaker than whoever it is protecting the Kingdom?” Jalen asked, arching an eyebrow. “If you’ve been hiding, then it’s been for good reason. And you’re exposed now. That protector is coming for you.”

“Only a fool overestimates his power, but I will not be weaker for any longer,” Father replied simply. He lifted a hand and the chains covering him rattled. Tiny imbuements covered their surfaces, so small that Jalen could barely even see them. “And I remain hidden. Go ahead, Jalen. Throw another attack. My power is restrained, after all. I am certain the third one will work.”

Jalen’s jaw clenched.

He obliged Father and brought his hand down, slicing through the air. A blade of black matter flashed across the room. It struck Father’s outstretched hand and shattered apart, just as the last attacks had.

Goddamn it. This is seriously pissing me off. I can’t even fucking touch him.

This is bad.

If he can ignore my attacks this effectively… then the moment he decides to attack me, all likelihoods point to my death.

Fuck me. How lame is that?

“Thank you for your attention,” Father said. He lifted his hand toward Jalen. “I have dreamed of this moment for so long. I must admit that having an audience has made it more enjoyable — but your purpose is served. I won’t allow for any interference in the final step.”

“You think you’re so smart?” Jalen asked, arching an eyebrow. And, as he spoke, he reached deep within himself — for his Runes. He refused to give up like this. He couldn’t let this be the end. If he was going to die, he was at least going to go down fighting. “But if you boil down everything you just told me, it can be summarized by saying some fancy Rank 7 mage hid like a little cowardly baby until he could steal a big stick. That’s pretty pathetic.”

“You can’t goad me into anger. Such emotions have long since withered away. Goodbye, Jalen.”

Father’s fist clenched.

There was a soft thud, like a loaf of bread being dropped on the ground. A light breeze passed by Jalen.

He looked down.

There was a hole the size of a dinner plate in the center of his chest. Jalen could see the ground behind him through it, where his heart had been. His body hadn’t even realized that it had been cut yet. The blood was only just starting to well up around the edges perfectly cut organs now exposed to the air.

“Oh,” Jalen said.

Father turned away.

And Jalen, head of the Linwick Family, fell without another word.

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