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Chapter 232 - More Paths on the Fields
🕑 Added 2025-07-23 14:53:34 +0000 UTCThey progressed to more advanced spirits quickly. It didn’t take long before Mirian’s head was spinning with the complexity of it. When she finally was having trouble keeping it all in her head, that was when Xecatl introduced her to weaving diagrams. The simple ones were made of two sticks with colored yarn tied to each end. When the sticks were pulled apart, the strings grew taut. Each stick was carved with totemic images.
They went to a children’s school to look at the first one.
“…these get the conceptual idea across to the children early in their lives so that the more difficult concepts are easier for those who go on to be nagual. Though, any citizen should understand something of spirits. Here, the yellow yarn originates from a carving representing ‘sun,’ moving light energy to ‘earth.’ Since it becomes heat energy, we get a red piece of yarn originating from ‘earth’ that then goes to a carving on the other side representing ‘child.’”
Mirian nodded along. “Simple enough.”
Xecatl continued talking, building up the concepts. At a certain point, it became necessary to have split strings, where a yellow ‘light’ force became both heat and food for a plant. Then it became necessary to have different strands of yarn tied to each other as, for example, a myrvite plant’s root network spread. Then they started adding carved and colored beads to the strings to represent phenomena that only emerged from energies interacting. After that, they moved from the schoolhouse to the Academy and Xecatl unfurled a weaving diagram that had six sides, each with dozens of strings meeting in tangles in the center.
When she saw Mirian’s despair, she laughed and said, “We’ll stop there for the day. You have a lecture to give anyways.”
That she did.
Mirian found it odd to stand in front of a room of a hundred people explaining glyphs and alchemistry, giving a lecture like she was some sort of professor. Logically, she knew that she’d surpassed Torres’s artificing knowledge years ago, that she now knew arcane physics that Endresen had never heard of, and that she could match Jei in her understanding of mathematics, if not her speed. But it felt strange to stand in front of so many people, speaking to them about basic magic, especially since every face in the audience was older than hers. At first, her lectures were probably unfathomable because she kept assuming everyone knew things she knew. It was actually Xipuatl who helped her pull back and create limits. She found that imposing ideas she couldn’t talk about helped streamline the lectures, and from the faces of the nagual attending, it was clear there was less bafflement and more understanding.
Xipuatl also worked with her to come up with basic assessments the nagual she was instructing could take to prove mastery. “We don’t want them feeding Ceiba Yan a bunch of nonsense because they misunderstood something, right?”
That made sense.
The days passed quickly. Mirian split her practice between her usual routines and the new techniques. The only thing she couldn’t do was artifice; Tlaxhuaco manufactured none of the magichemicals she’d need. It didn’t even make the tools she’d need to distill those magichemicals herself. The supplies she’d brought with her had, of course, sank with the cutter. That also limited how much practical techniques she could have the nagual she was teaching perform. One couldn’t scribe glyphs without a glyphpen or the magical inks. Sometimes, she found herself frustrated and pacing because she just wanted the leyline measurements here done.
“Have you mapped out where the leviathans attack?” Mirian asked Xecatl one evening as they were eating on a balcony overlooking the city. The flavors weren’t quite like home, but at least they knew what spices were here.
“It changes. These leviathans are like your Apophagorga. They remember. It was the loop after we killed one that they began to attack. I think it ended up being a blessing, though. They’ve become quite useful for sinking Akanan ships.”
“Yes, but there’s only so much we can transport by airship. Unless…” Mirian thought about the leyline repulsion devices the Akanans were using. How would they fare in a place where the leylines are so weak? “Well, there’s a few things we can try. Assuming Liuan can get her people under control.” Assuming she wants to get them under control. Still, she couldn’t see why Liuan would be harassing Tlaxhuaco. She was missing something.
Always missing something.
The conversation moved on, and they talked about little things. There were a thousand minor cultural differences: the way people addressed each other, what was permissible when dancing, how the food was served at a table—and so many others. Xecatl didn’t notice them because they were normal to her, but was happy to explain when Mirian asked. It might do her good to see Akana or Baracuel, at least once.
One thing led to another, and Mirian started rambling about how she’d defended Torrviol from Akana Praediar’s attack so many years ago. “How does the equipment here work? It doesn’t look at all like what I’d expect.” That was the nice way of saying it. Her first instinct when she’d seen the bows and wooden armor was that they looked beautiful but would be worthless in a modern battle.
Xecatl snapped her fingers and let out a burst of magic. Mirian still wasn’t sure how the signals worked. Without a word, though, one of the bodyguards that followed them around disappeared and then reappeared a minute later with a cuirass, battle staff, and bow.
“Tlaxhuaco has always been poor in iron, so we’ve had to make do. Our equipment procurement is based on our military doctrine, which is, in turn, based on our analysis of military history. What’s the number one killer in a modern clash between armies?”
“Artillery,” Mirian said instantly. Even small batteries could put out spells with the power of a Praetorian, and the larger ones, the power of an archmage. More, they could fire at greater distances, and more consistently.
“Precisely. Second?”
“Rifle infantry. Simply because there’s more of them. Battlemages and sorcerers inflict casualties at higher rates. Or enable infantry attacks that wouldn’t otherwise be possible.”
“And who’s likely to attack us?”
“Akana Praediar, of course.”
“So our resources have been put into countering that threat, and figuring out how to punch holes in any offensive thrust they direct to our islands. Ironically, there had been multiple attempts to commune with sea serpents and other large myrvites prior to the leviathan incident—none successful. All this time, and it turns out all we needed to do is kill a leviathan and they’d do the work for us. But back to doctrine. How do you assess their forces?”
Mirian examined the cuirass as she talked, her meal forgotten. “The auramancers would fold instantly. Your soul magic would be too effective at piercing them. Akana has hamstrung themselves, just like Baracuel, with their overly aggressive bans on soul magic. However, that’s only important on the squad level. If you’d asked me before I got here, I would have said the artillery would devastate your ranks, but now I think you must have taken that into account.” She looked closer at the wooden armor. “Hmmm. I recognize only a handful of these runes. And you’re not creating them with the scribing methods I’m familiar with.”
Xecatl asked, “You mentioned you know some Zhighuan crystal magic. Do you have to shape a crystal with a chisel?”
“No, it grows into a form naturally—ah, I see. The runes emerge as part of the process, you don’t scribe them.”
“Yes. Wooden armor is, of course, complete trash in isolation. It’s heavy, inflexible, and worse in a hot climate. The only way to make it comparable to steel is to lean heavily on the properties of myrvites. Spirits dissipate if the things making them up die, but certain properties can remain once they’ve been grown or shaped. Our Elder reliquaries are best tuned to honing all plant life. You haven’t seen the farms yet, but we grow myrvites at scale on them. The trees are carefully treated as they grow. What we end up with is this result: a wood that integrates several spells. They’re like your enchantments, but longer lasting, and in some cases, more potent. I think, if I understand it correctly, a Baracueli arcanist would be able to achieve something similar with artifice, but at too great an expense for standard infantry. Some of the effects, I’m led to believe, would require a spell engine.”
Mirian continued to examine the armor. “A natural enchantment. No, layers of them. Powerful enough they must deplete rapidly. What replenishes them?”
“If they can be trained, the soldier can. If they can’t, there’s spirit constructs that can do it.”
“Ah. It relies on being on the defensive, since you can’t exactly drag your gardens around. But that’s the war you expect.”
“Precisely. The end result is armor that resists piercing, resists all arcane and celestial spells, and can be easily repaired with certain regrowth spells. There’s also an inherent cooling spell.”
“The bows are similar, then? Natural enchantments that increase the force the arrow leaves the bow with, I assume. And perhaps arrows with their own properties?”
“Yes. The role of an archer is to try to snipe officers. Our lack of steel means any mage or shield device using magnetism is, in a word, useless. But we know the Akanans have put a great deal of resources into magnetic shields.”
Mirian picked up the battle staff next. She could see the shimmer of different myrvite woods intertwined, as well as where dozens of glyphs and runes had grown. In other places, it looked like one myrvite plant had been grafted onto another. Fascinating. They don’t know how to scribe glyphs, but it’s because they found an entirely different way to make them. After all, what is a glyph except a mix of magichemicals put in the correct form? But why distill them when you can have them grow? They lack access to the artisans and factories that produce modern arcanist technologies, but they’ve found a way around that.
She was silent for the rest of the evening, simply lost in thought, trying to run through the possibilities that opened up. Sylvester Aurum’s factories are incredibly potent at producing spell engine components, but they’d have to be re-configured completely to build what I need. Would growing some of the components be faster or slower? Could we repurpose myrvite plants that are already growing? How flexible are these spirit constructs?
She would have to learn.
Eventually, she became meditative. As she gazed out past Uxalak, past the sacred tree, past the vast gardens and farms along the river, out at the vast jungles and stout mountains shrouded in the colors of sunset, she couldn’t help but think, This place… oh, this place… and knew that somewhere, somewhen, the Ominian was thinking the same thing.
***
Watching the end of the world from Tlaxhuaco was a novel experience. The great auroras that blazed across the sky and the huge arcane eruptions that burst forth weren’t above them, they were on the distant horizon. From the heights of Uxalak’s acropolis, one could feel that the apocalypse was some distant thing.
I wish I had my measurement devices, she thought.
Behind her, Xecatl and a dozen chosen nagual had surrounded the sacred tree and were communing with it. Mirian turned her attention to that, watching as their auras swirled and melded, watching as their souls aligned. She’d learn the process soon enough. It would just take time.
How much time do we have left? she wondered. The hours ticked by. The communion ended. Then, on the horizon, she saw the flickering bright flash of the moon entering the atmosphere. There was that bright green light, a wall of energy that sped across the world faster than lightning, and she died again.
***
Mirian started the next cycle by sending letters to Jherica and Liuan about her progress and the newly discovered time traveler in Tlaxhuaco. With that, she also included a request for assistance. Liuan was directed to provide the airships; Jherica, the curriculum materials. She also mentioned to Liuan that it would be nice if she could provide an all-encompassing list of the Akana’s agents in Tlaxhuaco.
She contemplated asking them about ‘Scebur,’ but decided that sending the name via letter might give Liuan too much time to prepare a lie.
Next, she had to recruit Viridian.
“Have you ever been to Tlaxhuaco?” she asked him.
“No,” he said wistfully. “It’s always been a dream of mine, but ever since the political situation—”
“I can get you there,” Mirian interrupted.
His eyes lit up.
It was the easiest time she’d ever had recruiting someone.
***
As soon as the Elder Gates were set up, Mirian departed for the rendezvous in Takoa’s First City on the southernmost tip of Akana. Xipuatl and Viridian met her in Palendurio. On the way there, she stole a convenient amount of gold. These days, it was actually easier to burrow a hole in several banks’ vaults with shape stone, using precise attacks on the warding system to prevent any alarms from being triggered.
It was just faster than making the forged seals for letters of credit.
***
Jherica met her in First City on the 15th with a wagon full of supplies from Vardiach University. They found Mirian busy in a rented artificer’s shop, seven half-finished leyline detectors lined up on the tables, scribing glyphs about as fast as normal people wrote with ink.
“Oh, I can come back later if you’re busy,” they said, peeking in. “That looks complicated, wouldn’t want you to lose your place.”
“What? No, I can finish them later. I honestly couldn’t tell you how many of these damn things I’ve made,” Mirian said, setting down her scribing pen. “Where’s Liuan?”
Professor Jherica shrugged. “I was busy with the University. I really need to get rid of the department secretary. He asks way too many questions. So annoying. I told Tyrcast we needed this stuff for a field study on a possible leyline repulsor replacement, then asked him if he thought that might have the potential to make a lot of money. You wouldn’t believe what kind of doors that phrase opens up.”
“Good. You’re making progress, then. Yes, that’s what it takes for a while. Finding the right phrases, the right people to talk to. How much assistance is Liuan providing?”
“Some. Hard to say. Her agents are running around doing God knows what. I don’t think they’re interfering.”
“Don’t become dependent on her.”
Jherica was fidgeting with one of the instruments on the table. “I know. I know.”
“Oh, Xecatl told me something interesting in Uxalak. Have you heard of a ‘Scebur’?”
“Yes, companion of the Second Prophet. Actually, I read a fascinating historical treatise a few years back that—”
“No, someone calling themselves that now.”
“Hmm. Hmm. I’ve told you about my memory. Not as sharp as it used to be. It feels like the fog is going away… but no. I don’t think so. Of course, that doesn’t mean too much. Just would mean they haven’t made the headlines.” Jherica gave a heavy sigh. “It’s so depressing pulling up the morning newspaper for a relaxing morning and realizing you’ve already read the whole thing. Not a single new word. At least the late-cycle newspapers have a bit of variety.”
“Interesting. Let me know if you do hear something about them.” She paused. “And I wouldn’t mention the conversation to Liuan. I suspect she either knows something she hasn’t told us, or is directly involved.”
The next few days passed quickly. Mirian was busy with her preparations, and had to run interference because the local guards and administrators were getting nervous about the eclectic mix of people, devices, and potent magichemicals being stockpiled in First City. Jherica and Viridian, at least, seemed to get along fantastically, and both of them could churn out a curriculum for magical instruction faster than Mirian could make a spell engine. It made sense. They’d both spent decades doing exactly that.
The days after that passed slowly, for Mirian at least. She became impatient, checking frequently to see if Liuan had arrived. She periodically checked for anyone using soul-bindings and hostile divination schemes. She even checked for more mundane spying means, and created a local network of informants. By then, rumors were spreading about ‘Prophets,’ and they were beginning to attract unwanted and annoying attention.
Finally, on the 19th, a shipment of fossilized myrvite arrived, and Mirian relaxed a little bit. Two days later, someone caught sight of the skiff airships coming in from the north.
Liuan had at last arrived.
Comments
Lena During
Liuan is constantly up to shady shit and also tries to invade Tlaxhuaco... so high chance she is either sceber or is working with them.
lenkite
Or Liuan has been [Replaced] with Scebur. It is a danger to take Luan to Tlaxhuaco. Its pretty clear that Akana Praedar is interested in the conquest of that island for some reason.
Mr NerfGun
It's probably just another form of natural energy that they haven't discovered yet.
lenkite
Mirian really needs to go to back to the Vault and explore that unknown form of magic which she ignored - which is likely [Anti Magic]. Something of that might help in nullifying D-class mana.
Pete Magnuson
Ah, Jherica is like a baby looper, not quite as desensitized to the casual horror of an endless couple months. I wonder how far down he'll spiral and if any of the others will offer psychological advice
Amin Boudjelida
I think she was the one mind controlling him, I think it wasn't Specter
Mr NerfGun
Either Scebur has been interfering with Liuan, or she has spent her time recruiting a squad of Archmages.
Metal(Liz)ard🏳️⚧️
Well it's almost certain she's sceber im just unsure if she was working with troytin or if she decided to make her moves now that he's gone
Clara
C'mon Liuan, don't fuck this up, I believe in you
