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IABD 37: The Mage of the Vale and Foundations
🕑 Added 2025-03-27 22:23:12 +0000 UTCMatthias’ heart sped up.
“Get back!” Bregindoure shouted.
The black carriage landed on the banks of Bear’s Head Pond, its cloud-horses stilling as it came to rest.
It had looked large from far, but up close, it was truly massive: less like a carriage and more like a building. Dwarfing some cottages, it perched between six wheels as wide as Matthias was tall, each forged from black iron. The spokes were shaped like tridents and stretching between them, were three axles capped with the gleaming heads of six horned owls, forged from gold.
Matthias’ mind began to race, not sure if he should be keeping his eyes on the carriage or the tree line.
There was movement between the pines, but his attention was drawn by a hiss. The carriage door slowly opened, seemingly under its own power, dark metal steps descended from inside, snapping into shape in front of the doorway.
No light shone from inside, only darkness greeted the brothers.
“Who’s there?” Matthias shouted. His tendril stirred in his shadow.
There was movement in the darkness as a small figure emerged.
“A boy?” Bregindoure whispered.
The child looked only slightly older than Dagma, but shorter and thinner–perhaps eleven at most–with brown hair and robes of a vibrant red and blue. He descended the stairs with delicate steps—his bright blue boots hardly making a sound—there was nervousness in his movements, like those of a twitchy bird.
The air shimmered around him.
‘What is this?’ Matthias wondered. ‘Is he really a boy, or is he something else? A fae? A shapeshifter? A god?’
The boy stepped down, his boots touching the ground and moving beside the steps like a herald ready to announce their monarch.
He bowed. “I am Ellian DeFizroy, apprentice and servant to my master,” his voice was slight and soft. He gestured to the carriage doorway. “I present Mistress Polla of the Sanctum of Magi.”
Matthias gasped.
Altaizar’s mother had arrived at last.
“She’s here,” Bregindoure murmured.
A slight woman glided from the dark, hands behind her back, feet floating above the carriage floor.
The resemblance to her son was undeniable: the same silver hair poured down her shoulders and back, flowing to below her waist, contrasting with the pitch-black robes she was wearing. Her son’s grey eyes—though hers were larger and almost owl-like—peered from a face that appeared to have been carved from a glacier.
That face was odd, both young and old: its lines seemed to be chiseled from rock, unlike the radiant glow of her skin. Both youth and wisdom burned in her eyes as she floated down the stairs, feet never touching the metal.
Though short of stature, Matthias was struck by her bearing, the bearing of a living titan, radiating an energy that came close to buckling his knees. Altaizar had said she could snap a storm in half.
Matthias believed those words instantly.
Hovering slightly above the ground, she moved past her apprentice and approached the Stonebreaker siblings.
Her lips parted. “You are Matthias.”
The three short words that came from her mouth oozed power.
She did not shout—if anything—her voice was closer to a whisper, but each syllable radiated the power of a mountain range.
Matthias straightened his back; he had survived years of torment, torn a wound in his soul with lightning channeled through the glass of dreams, broken warriors, fought nightmares and slain beasts…
…all in just a few short months.
He could quiet his heart enough to meet her even gaze with his own.
“I am Matthias Stonebreaker,” he said confidently. “How did you find me?”
“The wind found you for me,” her tone was matter of fact. “It has found many things for me.”
“You are Altaizar’s mother,” Matthias replied.
“I gave birth to him, yes.” She turned, silver eyebrows twitching, and spoke no more of her son. Her eyes looked Bregindoure up and down. “I have not seen you since you were a small boy, Bregindoure Stonebreaker.”
The elder sibling stepped forward. “But I have vague memories of you, Mistress Polla.”
“I took care of your condition, long ago, before that duty was passed to my boy.” She turned back to Matthias. “I hear both you and he have been busy. That’s what brings me here; to help you take the next steps in your journey. Altaizar did not lie in his letter, the power within you is strong, I can feel it burning even now.”
She slowly turned in the air, facing the forest. “And this meeting is most fortunate,” she said, calling toward the woods. “Greetings, your band arrives at our meeting place at the same time as the wind found who I needed. Come out, join us.”
There was movement from the forest.
A figure was emerging: a short man in heavy chainmail with an antlered helmet on his head. His cheeks sported a ragged beard, above it were beady, untrusting eyes. On his back sat a broad shield and a nasty looking mace was belted to his waist.
“We’re here.” He greeted the mage with a short nod. “As promised. Big Stan’s already headed to the village with Brenner, but the rest of us are here.”
“Capital.” Mistress Polla gestured to her carriage. “My transportation is available to all of you. Come, let us go to my tower. There is much to discuss.”
Matthias’ mind whirled in confusion, but out of his many thoughts, he only spoke one: “It’s Altaizar’s tower, now.”
Polla’s large eyes turned toward the tower off in the distance, perched on the mountainside. “I suppose it is now, isn’t it? Very well, let us go to my son’s tower. I’ve sent Lord Bloodweep ahead: Altaizar should be expecting us.”
She turned, floating back into the darkness inside the carriage.
Her apprentice gestured to the stairs. “If you please, it is late, and the mistress has travelled a long way.”
The Stonebreaker brothers exchanged glances, then went to collect their boots.
As the boy climbed the steps, the antler helmeted warrior whistled to the trees.
Two figures stepped from the tree line.
The first was a pale young man with a small paunch, he gripped a halberd in one hand and a bow in the other.
The second was a dark-skinned woman, her hair falling in shoulder length dreadlocks, a red band was painted across her eyes like a mask. She wore a set of chainmail and gripped two heavy crossbows; large quivers filled with bolts hung at her hips. A cutlass hung from her waist.
Matthias and Bregindoure eyed the newcomers: the very well-armed newcomers.
The antler-helmed man said not a word to them, examining the carriage for a moment before slowly stepping onto the metal stairs and climbing up; there was a liquid grace to his movements that spoke of a dedicated Life Enforcement practice.
“He’s a rude one,” Bregindoure whispered as the man disappeared into the darkness.
The woman stowed her crossbows on her back, then approached the young greatfolk. She showed no sign of nerves, despite their size.
Standing before them, she bowed. “Scales of chance weigh in your favour, strangers.” Her northland words had an accent that Matthias could not place. “I apologise for meeting you with such hostility, and for Rolm not greeting you.”
Matthias looked at the woman and her nervous-looking companion. Both appeared travel-worn and smelled like they hadn’t heard of water for days. Brambles and brush clung to their cloaks and armour.
The young greatfolk looked behind them, toward the shimmering barrier separating the Shieldlands from the wilderness. “You came from the Wolfwood?” Matthias asked.
She nodded, “We did.”
“I can see why you would be tense,” he said. “I am Matthias Stonebreaker: this is Barrowgate. You are safe here.”
“Oh, thank the Ascended!” the young man cried, his relief so palpable he looked ready to collapse into tears. “We were chased by that—”
“Jeran!” the warrior woman checked him quickly. “Let us not speak so loosely: we are tired, and I am sure these young men have better things to do than listen to business that has nothing to do with them.”
He winced. “Sorry, Kam.”
She turned back to the brothers. “Forgive my companion and our secrecy. It has been a very long journey: he forgot himself. I am Kamaria Malika.”
“Of…Yahar?” Bregindoure asked. “Scales of chance weigh in your favour, is a Yaharite greeting, isn’t it?”
Her eyebrows rose. “It is.”
“Glad I got that right.” He lowered his head. “I am Bregindoure Stonebreaker.”
“Good to meet friendly boys, even if our meeting was not so friendly at first.” She smiled, then moved toward the carriage. “We should go; I don’t want to keep the mage waiting.”
“Better not,” Matthias winced, looking at their boots. “Guess it’ll be wet boots for us, Breg.”
“Wet boots?” Kamaria turned back. “I could dry them for you; it’s the least I could do after what nearly happened earlier. Do you mind? I can use The Gift.”
‘She asked for permission,’ he thought. ‘There’s a good start.’
“Please, go ahead,” he said.
“I’ll take you up on that too,” Bregindoure added.
“Good then. Let the water go to the pond.” She commanded.
Instantly, liquid floated from every fiber of their boots—leaving them dry—to return to the pond.
‘Commanding the water and not the boots. Interesting,’ Matthias thought.
“Thank—Erm, no wait,” Bregindoure paused, thinking. “Ten thousand thanks to you.”
Kamaria froze for a moment, then chuckled. “Ah, your knowledge is a little out of date: only our elders say that in Yahar. I have not heard ‘ten thousand thanks’ since my last grandmother went to Amon Koth’s realm in the netherworld. But I thank you for the thought.”
Bregindoure blushed as Kamaria climbed the stairs with Jeran.
Matthias looked at his brother incredulously. “Where did you learn all that stuff about Yahar? That place is many, many months to the south, even by horse.”
Bregindoure gave his younger brother a wry look as he grabbed his boots, putting them on. “I did little but read most of my life. I picked up a thing or two.”
“Fair enough.” Matthias laced up his own boots, then approached the carriage. “Well, time to join the others in darkness.”
“My favourite state,” Bregindoure grunted. “It’s not like I spent my days in a tower and my dreams in eternal darkness. What’s a bit more eternal darkness among friends?”
Matthias barked out a laugh.
Climbing the steps up to the carriage, he paused at the curtain of darkness before stepping through it.
On the other side, no realm of blackness awaited, instead, it was like the well-lit interior of a window-filled building. Two beds—separated by a jet-black curtain—stood on one side of the chamber, while a series of benches covered in tufted leather, provided seating against the walls. There were no windows: instead, the walls were decorated with painted murals that shifted, mimicking the terrain outside. Cupboards, cabinets and an entire pantry were fixed against one wall, while a stone table dominated the center of the room. The ceiling was lined with bookcases, held in place by some unseen means.
The many volumes looked like they would come raining down on everyone’s heads at any moment, yet somehow, they remained in place.
Matthias stood at the entrance, mouth hanging open: the scene was magical, like the sort of thing a person would go their entire lives without ever seeing. Matthias wondered if such things had been common during the Age of Wonder, more than forty thousand years ago.
“Welcome to my home that travels,” Mistress Polla greeted Matthias from the table. Ellian was seated on her right side. “Make yourself comfortable.”
The well-armed strangers had already taken seats on the benches at the opposite end of the compartment, away from the door.
As Bregindoure came in behind Matthias, cursing under his breath, both brothers moved to the table, sitting with Polla and her apprentice.
“Hello,” Matthias greeted the boy.
“Erm, hello,” he replied in a small voice. “W-Welcome to Mistress Polla’s home—oh dear, she already said that.”
“It’s alright,” Matthias said gently.
“Good, we’re all here. Let us be away.” Mistress Polla spoke a single word: “Fly.”
The carriage lurched, rising into the air; the wall murals—and one on the floor—shifted like panes of glass, which revealed a painted world, mirroring the mountains and forests, providing a view of the outside without a need for windows. Matthias watched pine trees fall away; open sky quickly appeared, startling him. He could see Bear’s Head Pond shrinking below, vanishing as the carriage flew higher. It moved faster than Altaizar when he carried folk on the wind, with the ground shifting so quickly, it made Matthias dizzy.
He suddenly realised that they were not travelling in the direction of Altaizar’s tower, but instead, they were going toward the village of Barrowgate.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“I am reuniting Kamaria, Rolm and Jeran with their companions,” Mistress Polla said. “I have business with all of them, and Barrowgate turned out to be a good meeting place. My business has nothing to do with our business, and ours is more urgent.” She turned to the three warriors. “I will meet with you and the others later.”
Rolm nodded. “We’ll find a place to stay while we wait for you. You will cover our lodging expenses, as agreed, right?”
“As per the contract,” Mistress Polla replied.
The carriage soon landed in the forest just outside the village; the door opened, letting Polla’s business associates out.
“Good meeting you two,” Kamaria said, slipping through the curtain of blackness.
Rolm followed without a word, but Jeran bade them a nervous goodbye before disappearing through the dark.
The stairs rose and the door closed behind them.
“Now, let us go see my son,” Polla said.
There was neither joy, dread nor anticipation in her words.
There was nothing at all.
###
“Greetings, mother.” Altaizar stood at the entrance to his tower, Lord Bloodweep perched on his arm. “I trust your journey was comfortable?”
Mistress Polla floated down the carriage steps, fixing her child with a critical gaze. “Your robes need to be pressed.”
Altaizar sighed as Ellian, Matthias and Bregindoure came down the stairs. “‘It is good to see you, son, after so many years,’ would be the proper greeting, mother.”
Polla paused then. “Pleasantries and politeness deserted me. It is good to see you, son, after so many years.”
Altaizar made a face. “The effect is lessened when I had to point it out to you: but greetings to you too, mother. I hope things have been going well in the Vale?”
“They have been. The elves plot and bluster but our study of The Gift continues uninterrupted, since we are useful to them.” Her eyes scanned the tower and courtyard. “You took care of this place well. And you also took care of your charges, as well.” She glanced at Matthias and Bregindoure. “It seems you truly have grown up.”
Altaizar turned away. “It seems I have. Come, let us speak inside. It’s starting to get chilly this time of year.”
“In a moment.” She raised her hand. “We must bring the rest of the Stonebreaker family here: they should be informed of what comes next. Ellian, would you be kind enough to take the carriage and go fetch them? Altaizar, would you be so kind to guide him to the Stonebreakers’ home? I will stay here: I must examine Matthias urgently.”
“All the more reason for me to be here for that.” Altaizar crossed his arms.
“It is important that the rest of Matthias’ family be brought to us. Please guide them here,” she didn’t elaborate further. “Son, please do this. You do not have to, but it would make things easier for me and for all of us.”
There was a note in her voice that Matthias could not identify, but Altaizar’s grimace said he was very familiar with it.
“I’ll stay here with my brother.” Bregindoure looked between the mages. “No matter who goes where.”
Altaizar was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Alright, mother, but we will be back soon.”
###
Polla floated into the tower, followed by Matthias and Bregindoure. Her large eyes taking in everything at a glance, her gaze lingering on the bags and boxes piled against the wall.
She sighed. “He’s preparing to leave already. Expected, I suppose.” The mage floated up the stairs. “I take it the meditation room is still on the fourth floor?”
“It is,” Matthias said as he and Bregindoure climbed the stairs, the taller brother needing to duck down.
“Good. I was afraid he would have changed the space. He’s a good boy: stubborn and far too headstrong, but good. If only we could see eye to eye more often.”
As Matthias followed her, some of Altaizar’s words came back to him: “That old horned owl has plans upon plans, and she has a political mind. She’ll help you, of course, but for her own motives as well.”
The young greatfolk was no expert in the workings of other people’s minds, and he definitely did not know how much to trust this mage.
‘Altaizar did say she would help me,’ he thought. ‘I just have to keep my eyes open.’
She reached the meditation room, floating in. “Would you be so kind as to stand in the middle of the room, Matthias? I must perform my examination quickly.”
“What kind of examination is it?” Matthias asked.
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Bregindoure addressed Polla. “I want to know what you intend to do to my little brother.”
Her gaze lingered on Bregindoure for a moment, before turning back to Mattias. “Altaizar informed me that your entire family is aware of his situation, so I will speak freely: I can read the Divine Breath burning in your brother as easily as I can read the flow of energy in a Life Enforcement practitioner. It just requires a simple touch. Have you been performing Life Energy Circulation, Matthias?”
“Yes.” Matthias remained still in the centre of the room.
“And how many repetitions can you do?” Polla moved behind him.
His chest swelled with pride. “Fifteen,” he proudly reported his progress. Being able to concentrate on practising without having to worry about his brother, his sister or his own torment let him advance quickly in the past couple of weeks.
Altaizar had been impressed.
Mistress Polla’s expression never changed. “I see. Was this while being still or while moving?”
“Uh…while being still?” Matthias offered.
She sighed. “He’s being soft on you. You should have learned to circulate under different circumstances once you were able to do more than five repetitions, he should have taken you on to pumping your soul while moving.”
Something struck Matthias, and he fought back a chuckle.
She paused. “…do I amuse you?”
“No, it’s just that, well: Altaizar said something very similar to that when he took me to Blood’s Drop to learn how to breathe with my soul.”
Another pause.
“I see. We are more similar than he would care to admit,” her voice changed. Was there a note of pride in it? “But he started you with Soul Breathing before Life Energy Circulation? An interesting choice. It worked, so I will skip the critique for now. If you can pump your soul fifteen times, though, then this test will be easy: I will be able to feel your Divine Breath through your life channels with merely a brush of my own life force. Like…”
She placed a hand on his back.
“…so.”
Matthias felt a wave pass over him—like he’d been dunked in a warm bath for the briefest of heartbeats—then withdraw.
And just like that, it was done.
“It seems you haven’t been soul breathing since you Awakened. Good, you should not do that with an incomplete foundation,” she said. “Far too many cultivators of Divine Breath make that mistake, shattering themselves before they can even begin to build their Towers. However, we must start solidifying your foundation urgently: you have been using…oh, what was your family method called…the Way of Stone, haven’t you?”
“Yes…why?” Matthias asked nervously.
“Playing with your life force like that—without a solidified foundation—comes with risks. Not many know this, not even my son, but if you continue to do that you will eventually end up with energy imbalances and leaning Towers. Which could make them collapse as you build them.” She floated around him, facing the young greatfolk once more. Despite her diminutive height, she was now eye-level with him. “Fortunately, we caught it with more than enough time to spare.”
He let out a sigh of relief: part of him had been terrified that she would somehow discover the tendril or come to the conclusion that he’d accidentally damaged his future potential in some catastrophic way.
Bregindoure looked more relaxed as well.
“If I haven’t hurt myself, then that’s great.” Matthias placed a hand to his heart. “Altaizar said you’d be a lot better at guiding me through solidifying my foundation than he would.”
“I will be,” she said with utter confidence.
“So, um…is there a shortcut? Altaizar said the entire process could take years.” Matthias asked. “Soul’s Lace helped me with soul-breathing.”
She looked at him primly. “Tell me, is it true that you are apprenticed to a stonemason?”
“Er, yes,” Matthias confirmed, surprised Altaizar had shared that information.
“Then what would he say to you asking him if there was a shortcut to building a foundation that must hold up an entire cathedral?” she asked.
The young greatfolk blushed. “He’d probably rap me across the back of my head.”
“Good, you are learning already.”
“So then, how long will it take?” he asked nervously.
Polla looked Matthias up and down. “You picked an awkward age to Awaken: you are no longer a child, so you have lost much of the pliability of childhood. You are not a man quite yet…so you have not gained the full rigidity and sturdiness of adulthood. That narrows our methods considerably…which brings both good news and bad news.”
“What’s the good news?” Matthias asked.
“The good news is that I can use a method that will start with taking advantage of your fading youthful pliability, adjusting for your growing rigidity and sturdiness of adulthood later. The work will be intensive, difficult, and require much from you, but if you perform it properly…you could have one of the strongest foundations any method could produce. Much better than the methods that could solidify your foundation in mere months.”
Bregindoure grinned from the side of the room.
Matthias’ heart leapt. “I like that! I don’t care what it requires of me! What’s the bad news?”
“For most cultivators, it would take twenty years.”
The brothers were stunned.
“Twenty years?” Matthias cried.
“Twenty years mostly in isolation,” Polla continued. “The method using your fading pliability is incomplete and will make the second part of the process much longer for most. Therefore—”
Bregindoure had gone pale. “No! Anything but that! You’re basically asking my brother to suffer like I did! I—”
“Hold now.” She raised a hand. “I said for most, it would take twenty years. Matthias, with the incredible speed at which you are growing…I suspect you could do it in five. Maybe faster.”
“Could I do it in three or four?” Matthias asked, thinking about how one of his Towers enhanced everything he did, and how the dream world let him increase his practise time immensely.”
“Potentially, but that will be up to you. Four years would be the quickest I suspect you could do it in. However, there is another complication: this method only works in certain places that have high concentrations of Divine Breath and powerful ley lines. There is only one place in all of Evalmera that will do, and it is not exactly the safest.”
“I’ll face any danger,” Matthias said, eager to solidify his foundation. It would be the key to an even better life.
“Good, but the other issue is that the location is by no means close to here.”
“Wait, you mean…” Matthias paused.
“Yes, and that is why your entire family should be present when you make your decision. Agree to work with me, and you will need to leave Barrowgate behind for the entirety of the process. Now there are potentially other methods I could use while you remain here, but they could most likely result in a weaker foundation.”
“I…I would have to leave my family?” Matthias asked.
“That depends on many things, and only you and they can answer that. Not me. I leave the choice to all of you.”
###
Author's Note
And Altaizar's mother finaly arrives and we begin our next journey for training and growth, with some other things on the way.
It was fun cooking up different ideas for solidifying a foundation: our bodies have different strengths and weaknesses as we grow up, and so do our minds. So I thought to build that in to craft different training theories.
Cya tomorrow!
Comments
Lon
Ohh good thing the black carriage’s owner is Mistress Polla, no fighting for now. I love the fact that Breg is basically a smart and well studied Berserker. And so cute him being polite with Kamaria too, using terms and phrases from her place hehe. Huh, makes sense why Altaizar would not want to be near his mother. She sounds more like his teacher than his mother, and she gave birth to him and he looks like a copy of her. But alas, nothing much that can be done about it I suppose. But hey, at least she tried to greet him in a more motherly way? I wonder how training Matthias would benefit Mistress Polla, Altaizar commented that after helping Matt he would be able to study and research alone later…but I wonder what is the benefit to see Matthias grow and help him get a very high level foundation.
J.M. Clarke
The final book is, here I can link you to the tableof contents for Mark of the Fool: https://www.patreon.com/posts/65152374
David Jenkins
Is mark of the fool on here to be read?
mant06
Do Polla's sensing abilities stem from the gift or is she a divine breath or life enforcement practitioner. Also 'leylines?' hopefully a sign we get more 'structure' for the gift soon. One scene I especially liked in Fool was when it was shown how wizards abilities showed in their homes. While we don't know enough of the gift to say much but Polla's carriage has a similar shows the gifts non-dirrect and -combatative uses.
Trevor Mergen
Thanks!
George R
Great chapter
Decide
Wait, does she not know about the Twin Towers™️, or does she? And, does she know which gods he's using? Altaizar seemed to know more about it. Also, this chapter a day reminds me of those old Fool days. Thanks for the chap!
SUBLIME SMITER
Thanks for the chapter.
