Archmage Abomination
patreon
Chapter 1: Archmage Among Immortals
🕑 Added 2025-10-11 16:30:03 +0000 UTCThe laboratory was quiet except for the soft hum of the Resonance Anchors.
Arthur Ferrell stood in the center of the heptagonal pattern he'd spent three months arranging, checking his calculations for the forty-ninth time. The numbers hadn't changed. They never did. But when you were about to attempt something that could shatter your Cadence into a thousand irreparable pieces, checking twice wasn't paranoia. It was basic survival instinct.
The seven Anchors glowed faintly in the dim light of his private workspace, each one attuned to a different Harmonic. Ember in the south, burning with contained heat. Torrent to the southeast, condensation beading on its surface. The pattern continued around him: Bedrock, Zephyr, Vitae, Void, and Prismatic, each positioned at the points of the heptagon. Together, they represented six years of requisition requests, favors called in, and one very creative reinterpretation of the Symphonic Spire's equipment allocation budget.
Arthur reviewed the setup one more time. The Anchors would act as overflow channels, siphoning off the excess Dissonance before it could tear his Cadence apart. In theory. The calculations suggested an 87% chance of success, which was actually quite good for experimental Resonance work. He'd published papers on techniques with worse odds.
Of course, those techniques didn't involve simultaneous Perfect Synchronization with all seven Harmonics at once.
He glanced at the stack of journals covering his workbench. Two years of theoretical work, reduced to hundreds of pages of equations and diagrams. The Resonance Council had reviewed his initial proposal eight months ago. Their response had been unambiguous: forbidden. Too dangerous. The human Cadence wasn't designed to channel seven distinct Harmonic frequencies simultaneously. The Dissonance accumulation alone would kill him, never mind the risk of Cadence shattering.
Arthur had nodded politely during that meeting, accepted their ruling with appropriate academic deference, and continued his research in secret.
He was thirty-three years old. Last year, he'd achieved Archmage status; the youngest person to do so in recorded history. The ceremony had been a tedious affair, full of elderly Council members droning on about tradition and responsibility. What they'd failed to mention was that achieving Archmage status meant you'd learned everything the Council could teach. You'd mastered the seven Harmonics individually. You could execute Deep Synchronization with any of them at will, and Perfect Synchronization given adequate preparation time.
After that, there was nowhere to go. No new techniques to learn, no theoretical boundaries left to push. Just decades of teaching students the same basic principles, over and over, until you were the one droning at ceremonies.
Arthur had lasted exactly four months in that existence before starting his Septuple Weave research.
The evening light filtering through his laboratory windows had faded to deep blue. The Symphonic Spire would be mostly empty now, just a few night-shift researchers in the lower levels. Perfect. He'd deliberately scheduled this experiment for late evening, when the chances of interruption were minimal.
Not that anyone could interrupt once he started. The moment he achieved Synchronization with all seven Harmonics, the Dissonance field would make it impossible for anyone else to enter the room. They'd have to wait for him to either succeed or die. Given the Council's explicit prohibition, he suspected several of them would prefer the latter outcome.
Arthur shook his head. No point in dwelling on politics. He'd made his choice months ago.
He walked to the southern Anchor and placed his hand on its smooth surface. The Ember Harmonic responded immediately to his touch, a familiar warmth spreading through his palm. He'd been working with Ember since he was sixteen, back when he was still a junior student who could barely maintain Surface Synchronization for more than a few seconds. Now, achieving Perfect Sync with Ember took him less than three breaths.
But Perfect Sync with all seven, simultaneously? That was the question he'd spent two years trying to answer.
He returned to the center of the heptagon and sat cross-legged on the floor. The position was traditional for deep Attunement work, though Arthur had always suspected it was more about maintaining the mystique than any actual technical requirement. Still, tradition existed for a reason, and tonight wasn't the time to test alternate theories about optimal Resonance posture.
Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Then he opened his Cadence.
The sensation was familiar; awareness expanding beyond his physical body, perception shifting to accommodate the fundamental frequencies that underpinned reality. Every practitioner described it differently. Some said it felt like diving into water. Others compared it to opening a door or lighting a candle. Arthur had never found those descriptions particularly useful. For him, Attunement simply felt like becoming more. More aware. More present. More connected to the deeper structures beneath the surface of the world.
The seven Harmonics appeared in his awareness, distinct and separate. Ember blazed in the south, all heat and transformation. Torrent flowed from the southeast, adaptation and change made manifest. Bedrock anchored the southwest, absolute stability and endurance. Zephyr danced in the west, freedom and motion without limit. Vitae pulsed from the northwest, the rhythm of growth and life itself. Void yawned in the north, the perfect silence of absence and negation. Prismatic shimmered from the northeast, light and perception and the revelation of hidden truths.
Arthur had worked with each of them thousands of times. He knew their patterns, their quirks, the subtle ways each Harmonic interacted with human consciousness. Ember responded to will and desire. Torrent demanded flexibility and acceptance. Bedrock required absolute focus. Zephyr needed you to release control. Vitae resonated with emotion and intent. Void insisted on perfect stillness. Prismatic revealed what you were ready to see, nothing more or less.
Synchronizing with one was second nature. Two at once, a Dual Weave, was advanced technique but well within his capabilities. Three was the theoretical limit for sustained work according to every text Arthur had studied at the Academy.
He'd managed four during his Archmage examination. The Council had been impressed.
And a few months ago, he had succeeded in combining six.
Tonight, he would attempt seven.
Arthur began with Ember, the Harmonic he knew best. Surface Synchronization came instantly; the barest touch of connection, enough to sense heat patterns in his immediate vicinity. He pushed deeper. Shallow Sync, where he could manipulate small amounts of thermal energy. Deeper still to Standard Sync, the level where practical work happened, where he could generate flame or redirect existing heat with reliable precision.
The Dissonance built as expected. Every act of Synchronization generated it, the inevitable cost of imposing your will on the fundamental frequencies of reality. Arthur felt it accumulating in his Cadence, a pressure that would eventually force him to release the connection and Discharge the built-up energy. His threshold was 1,250 points: high enough to mark him as exceptionally talented, low enough to remind him he was still mortal.
Currently, Ember Standard Sync was costing him about fifty points. Manageable.
He reached for Deep Synchronization, where Ember stopped being an external force and became an extension of his own intent. The Dissonance spiked; another two hundred points. The Anchor to his south flared brighter, beginning its work of bleeding off the excess.
Then Perfect Sync. The boundary between himself and Ember dissolving completely, his consciousness resonating at exactly the frequency of transformative heat. For a moment, he was fire. Not burning it or controlling it, but being it at a fundamental level.
Three hundred more Dissonance points. The southern Anchor glowed bright enough to cast shadows.
Arthur held the connection and reached for Torrent.
The process repeated. Surface, Shallow, Standard, Deep, Perfect. Each step deeper, each transition generating more Dissonance. The southeastern Anchor activated, its glow matching the southern one. Water and fire, held in Perfect Synchronization simultaneously. A Dual Weave, executed with the precision that had earned him his position at the Academy.
Current Dissonance: approximately 750 points. Well within his threshold.
Bedrock came next. The stone-and-earth Harmonic resisted his approach at first; it always did. Bedrock demanded proof of worthiness, absolute focus and unshakeable intent. Arthur provided both, pushing through Surface and Shallow to Standard and beyond. Deep Sync with Bedrock felt like becoming a mountain, immovable and eternal. Perfect Sync felt like understanding, at a visceral level, what it meant to endure.
The southwestern Anchor blazed to life. Three Harmonics in Perfect Synchronization. A Triple Weave that maybe fifty people in the world could execute.
Dissonance: 1,150 points. Close to his threshold now, the pressure building in his Cadence like water against a dam.
He kept going.
Zephyr required a completely different approach. Where Bedrock demanded control, Zephyr required surrender. Arthur relaxed his rigid focus, allowing the wind-and-freedom Harmonic to find him rather than forcing the connection. The progression to Perfect Sync happened in a rush, Zephyr's nature demanding speed and motion.
Western Anchor, active. Four Harmonics. A Quadruple Weave.
Dissonance: 1,580 points.
He'd just exceeded his safe threshold. The pressure in his Cadence had gone from uncomfortable to painful. If he stopped now, the Discharge would be intense but manageable. He'd be unconscious for a few hours, possibly bedridden for a day, but he'd survive intact.
Arthur continued to Vitae.
The life Harmonic welcomed him with warmth that had nothing to do with Ember. This was the warmth of growth, of potential realized, of the force that drove seeds to become trees and children to become adults. Perfect Sync with Vitae meant touching the fundamental drive toward flourishing that animated all living things.
Northwestern Anchor, glowing. Five Harmonics. The Quintuple Weave that existed only in theoretical papers.
Dissonance: 2,020 points.
His Cadence screamed in protest. The Anchors around him blazed bright enough to hurt his physical eyes, bleeding off Dissonance as fast as they could. Not fast enough. The pressure was building faster than they could handle.
Arthur opened himself to Void.
The absence Harmonic was always dangerous. It negated, it erased, it reduced everything to perfect silence and emptiness. Synchronizing with Void meant accepting that nothingness was as fundamental as existence, that absence was as real as presence. Perfect Sync required becoming nothing, briefly, while still maintaining enough self to return.
The northern Anchor activated with a pulse of darkness that seemed to devour light.
Six Harmonics. A Sextuple Weave that Arthur was reasonably certain had never been achieved in human history by anyone other than himself.
Dissonance: 2,510 points.
His Cadence was tearing. He could feel it, structural damage accumulating faster than his body could repair it. Blood trickled from his nose. His vision blurred at the edges. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to stop, to Discharge, to release the connections before they killed him.
One more.
Prismatic was the Harmonic of revelation, of seeing truly, of light in all its complexity. Arthur reached for it with the last reserves of his focus, feeling it respond. Surface Sync came easily; Prismatic always wanted to be seen. Shallow, Standard, Deep, each progression natural and smooth.
Perfect Sync.
The northeastern Anchor exploded into rainbow light.
All seven. All seven Harmonics, all in Perfect Synchronization, all channeling through his Cadence simultaneously.
Arthur opened his eyes and saw the world remade.
The Septuple Weave wasn't just seven individual connections held at once. The Harmonics were resonating with each other, their frequencies interacting in ways that produced something entirely new. He could see it now, perceive it with the enhanced awareness that Perfect Sync with Prismatic provided. The seven distinct frequencies were harmonics, in the musical sense, of a single underlying tone.
The Cacophony.
The theoretical unified frequency that scholars had debated for centuries. The proposed fundamental vibration from which all seven Harmonics derived. Most academics thought it was purely theoretical, a useful mathematical construct for explaining certain rare phenomena but not something that actually existed.
They were wrong.
Arthur could perceive it now, could feel it thrumming beneath the seven individual Harmonics. It was vast and complex and utterly overwhelming. The seven Harmonics weren't separate forces at all. They were fragments. Pieces of something that had been whole.
His awareness expanded further, pushed by the unprecedented Synchronization to perceive things no human was meant to see. Other worlds flickered at the edges of his consciousness. Places where the underlying frequency was tuned differently, where the Cacophony had fractured into different sets of harmonics. A world with five fundamental forces instead of seven. Another with twelve, each one narrow and specialized compared to his familiar seven.
And one—
One world where the Cacophony hadn't fractured at all. Where all seven Harmonics existed simultaneously in the ambient environment, freely available, unified in their natural state. That should be impossible. Harmonics only manifested in specific locations or through deliberate Attunement. They weren't just present in the air, available for anyone to access.
But in that other world, they were.
Arthur watched practitioners there drawing on the unified frequency directly, channeling it through their bodies in ways that made no sense according to Resonance theory. They were using Dissonance itself as a power source. That violated every principle he'd spent fifteen years studying. Dissonance was the cost of Resonance, the inevitable price of Synchronization. You couldn't use it. It was waste energy, accumulation that had to be Discharged or it would damage your Cadence.
Yet these people were. Somehow.
Images flooded his expanded perception. Ancient texts he'd never read but could suddenly comprehend. References to "Frequency Wars" that had reshaped reality itself. Something called "The Great Discordance" that had shattered the original Cacophony into fragments. The seven Harmonics he knew weren't natural features of the universe.
They were scars.
The realization stunned him. His entire civilization, all of Resonance theory, everything the Council taught—it was all built on the broken remains of something that had been destroyed. The seven Harmonics were convenient, stable, teachable. But they were wrong. Incomplete. Shadows of what they should have been.
His Synchronization wavered.
The moment his focus slipped, the Septuple Weave began to collapse. The seven Harmonics were no longer working in concert. They were fighting each other, their frequencies clashing instead of resonating. The Dissonance that had been building steadily spiked exponentially.
2,800 points. 3,500. 4,000.
The Anchors couldn't keep up. One by one, they began to crack. The southern Anchor shattered first, Ember Harmonic bleeding into the physical space around it. Papers on his workbench burst into flame. The wooden table ignited.
Arthur tried to Discharge, to release the Synchronization and dump the accumulated Dissonance safely. Too late. The connections wouldn't let go. He'd reached too deep, touched something too fundamental. The Harmonics were resonating through his Cadence whether he wanted them to or not.
5,000 points. 6,000.
His Cadence was coming apart. He could feel the structural damage spreading, the capacity that let him channel Harmonic energy tearing at the seams. The western Anchor exploded, Zephyr escaping in a whirlwind that scattered his journals across the laboratory. The southeastern Anchor cracked, water bursting free and extinguishing the flames even as it soaked everything.
7,500 points. 8,500.
Arthur screamed. The pain was beyond anything he'd experienced, beyond what he'd thought physical nerves could transmit. His Cadence was supposed to have a threshold of 1,250 points. He'd exceeded that by a factor of seven and it was still climbing.
The northern Anchor didn't just break. It tore.
Void Harmonic, the frequency of absence and negation, ripped through the dimensional fabric of reality itself. Space bent inward around the fractured Anchor, a hole opening in existence. Arthur felt himself pulled toward it, unable to resist. His laboratory lurched sideways, or maybe he did. The remaining Anchors shattered in quick succession, their stored Dissonance releasing in a cascade of uncontrolled energy.
Then he was falling through the tear, through a space that wasn't space, experiencing sensations that had no words. His Cadence spasmed one final time, fragmenting in a way that he distantly understood was probably permanent damage.
The pain stopped.
Everything stopped.
Silence.
