“Was that really necessary?” Reizenbrahm said from his bed as he watched his wife put out the candles in their bedroom one after another. The candles were more of a luxury item than a necessity, Gem-Eyed as they were, but it did great things to color and paintings.

She was just about to put out the last candle with the snuffer when she stopped and looked at her husband witheringly. “I suppose such measures become prudent when I have a husband that would so easily open their hearts to random swindlers and—”

“You threatened her life,” Reizenbrahm argued hotly. “That goes above and beyond simple measures to prevent swindlers!”

She folded her arms. “Well, I didn’t really mean it.”

“At the time, you did,” he said. Now, it seemed, she knew better than to unleash such cruelty on a mother and her child. Small mercies.

“Were you using your Skill on me?!” She asked, scandalized.

Reizenbrahm sighed. “I was using it because of her. If I could catch her in just one lie, then I could justify it to myself to throw her out,” he said. This time, he didn’t even have to act. Trusting Reza felt more and more like a death sentence as time passed. Here was a woman that could just as easily be his downfall as his greatest prize.

A part of him hoped that she fled during the night, never to come back. He hoped that she would wreak havoc away from Altaluvia, and preferably Aellia as well.

But that would mean a return to mediocrity once again.

No. He had set his sights farther than anyone expected him to be capable of doing. This would not be his end.

Now, Losinda wore a pitying expression. “You could not bear to pass up on any opportunity, could you? Even if you did not catch her in a lie, that is only because she never claimed to be able to heal you. She spoke only the truth because she hid her lies behind them. You should know this if you’re a Judge.”

Or, she was mad enough to believe in her lies outrightly. The truth was such a fickle beast, always so elusive, and Reizenbrahm knew the limits of his skill.

“I will take my chances,” Reizenbrahm said tiredly.

“Husband,” she soothed. “Hold onto your dignity and let yourself not be deceived. That is my only advice to you.”

Dignity was a shallow thing to let oneself be satisfied with. Old men died with dignity. Legends never died. He would have more.

Losinda snuffed out the last candle, but failed to snuff out his dreams.

000

I didn’t sleep that night. I was out on the balcony, sitting on a chair and watching the real starscape and full moon bathe the estate in an ethereal light. Farhaan was fast asleep, though he would likely wake up in another hour. In the meanwhile, I thought about what would be best for me in the long term.

I could stay with Reizenbrahm, risk death on a regular basis while taking care of my son, which would likely grant me the resources needed to legitimize magic once I figured out a way to make it safe, or I could value my safe being in the short term and start over somewhere else and build myself up from there.

When I put it like that, it felt more like cowardice than anything else. If I couldn’t take even a minuscule chance of bodily harm to achieve my goals faster, and pass up on the opportunity to have a ruler indebted to me, then how would I ever achieve greatness?

That was all it ever was about in the end, wasn’t it? I never had to continue using magic after getting out of the forest. I just wanted to because it made me different, it made me more. Sure, solving world hunger would be a fine pretext, but it was never about altruism, was it? It was about glory.

And was that really so wrong?

I had a mind molded at childhood by ceaseless study, tedious memorization and academic perfection. I would never have amounted to anything but a normal doctor within my field of specialization had I stayed on Earth, bereft of any special quality as I was. Here, I could weave magic at will. The madness my parents imposed on me let me navigate the most perilous mental pursuits on the planet.

As far as I knew, nobody had the qualities that I did. I owed it to the world to share it all, and they owed it to me to be thankful.

Farhaan woke up. I gave him my breast to sate him, after casting the Satiation spell on myself. It was high time I had some real food however, as I didn’t want to only subsist on Satiation. Though I hadn’t noticed any issues yet, I knew better than anyone else how complicated the human body was, and all its interconnected pieces. I wasn’t nearly well-versed enough in magic to take care of all those things, but I would be once I dug deeper.

He became full pretty quickly, leaving me with more milk than I knew what to do with. “A child of plenty is what you are,” I held him in front of me, nuzzling him with my nose. He giggled. “After all, why should you worry about eating everything on your plate? Mother will always be with you,” I kissed his forehead and brought him back to my embrace. “Always.”

I heard a knock at my door. It was Reizenbrahm on the other side. I entered my room and opened it. He was pretending to use his cane, and held a candle with his other hand, but was dressed up in a nightgown. “What is the purpose of your visit?” I asked.

He turned around. “Follow me.”

I tried to sense for anyone else waiting in the wings, but found that we were completely alone but for the few guards stationed here and there, making their rounds in the manor. I followed after Reizenbrahm, though I wished he could let up on the act so we could get wherever he wanted us to go faster.

We went down so many flights of stairs that eventually, I knew we were underground. We didn’t go very far down the subterranean corridors before Reizenbrahm put his hand on a random stretch of wall, and with a heave, he pushed. The wall moved, grinding against the floor as it slowly revealed a new corridor behind it. When the wall spun to ninety degrees, Reizenbrahm beckoned me in.

He pushed the wall back to its original position once I entered, and he put his cane on the wall, now confident enough that no one was watching.

The hidden corridor terminated with a single door that he opened. On the other side was a library or archive of some kind. It was a cylindrical room with a wheeled ladder against one wall, bookshelves covering every inch of it, but for the door. There wasn’t even a study table. It was just one big room with shelves and shelves of books surrounding us.

“They say,” he began, “that knowledge is the greatest tool for people like you. In these shelves are a collection different tomes written by the premier minds and authorities of nearly every science and art under the sun. Only the best.” He smiled. He handed me the candle, and left its light to pick a book of his own. His emerald eyes shone as it reflected the candlelight, and even in these dark conditions, he could still read.

“It was passed down from my father’s father to my father, and now to me. Not a single member of my family knows about this,” he said. “Not even my only heir. Initially, it was because I did not sense an erudite spark in any of them. No one could appreciate what this trove of information could represent.” His traffic-light green eyes sparkled at me. “I saw a little something of it in you, however. And if this aids you in aiding me, then I can only benefit. This is how I reward those in my employ.” He said.

And now I had another reason entirely to stay.

It was my turn to show gratitude in the purest way possible; by revealing a sliver of vulnerability. My true thoughts. “My goal is to eliminate the risks of spellcasting, to change the reputation of the mad arts as a whole and usher in a new era of greatness. I know I can do this because I have come this far already, in barely a month, and I will go even further. You will be at the forefront of this revolution.”

And contrary to my expectations, his smile only widened. There was an understanding there, from one hopeless dreamer to another. An understanding that we did not have to listen to any naysayers. “Then you will push me to the very pinnacle of this world!”

I could do that. I nodded my head. “Then I look forward to a fruitful working relationship.”

He left me to it quickly enough with a warning not to let anyone see me move in or out of this room, and I assured him that it was unlikely to happen.

Before I even began on reading, I used Biological Manipulation to give myself some gem-eyes. The pupils would stay, of course, but night vision would absolutely be a boon to have.

When the darkness of the library brightened considerably in a strange, unsaturated grayscale, I picked up a book and started reading.

000

Contrary to Reizenbrahm’s predictions, his wife hadn’t brought a doctor to oversee the procedure. No, she brought three armed guards and gave me a most stern glare. She didn’t… look like she was going to kill me, but you never knew with people like her. That said, I wasn’t very worried. All that remained was theatrics, and with the absence of an actual doctor, I got to be a little bolder.

With one hand, the other holding my baby, I slathered an herby paste over his knees, occasionally massaging and striking his legs. Reizenbrahm played his part well, yelping and hissing occasionally.

When the hour was up, Reizenbrahm reported no pain at all, and took a few shaky steps as well, but without falling. Muscle definition had returned to his legs since I healed them, and I reported to his wife that it would take five to ten days for him to make a full recovery, on account of his high Power.

“Then you will remain for another five to ten days,” she said simply. She beckoned the guards to leave. “That isn’t to say there is no trust between us. Certainly, your actions have earned you a measure.”

“I understand,” I said simply. “I would have asked to remain for observation.”

She nodded. “You are dismissed. I will tend to my husband.”

I didn’t waste any time walking past her, making a beeline for my room. Upon requesting it from Reizenbrahm, I had been gifted dozens of blank books and writing implements, though I was too busy absorbing the history of Aellia, specifically the Era of Madness, to have done anything with them.

I titled the first one ‘Magic: The Fundamentals’. It was written in English to deter cursory snooping.

I took the pen, cast Boost Power and Coordination, and finished the first ten pages in only a minute

It was all mostly just speculation, from why I was so suited to magic, what I could do to make others as suited as well, and speculation on why nobody had shared anything of worth in the World Obelisk. Sure, the Biomagic I had first seen was enough to cover the fundamental needs of a medieval world. Though I knew I had something special, I wasn’t vain enough to think that ten or a hundred minds working in concert could not do what I had done.

Dhul Arsha was my goal. I had to reach the golden world obelisk known as the Golden Amura’s staff. According to the history books I read, there was nothing else that fit the description of a ‘world obelisk’ in the continent, and the phrase ‘world obelisk’ had only been used once, but as a flowery description rather than its name.

Before Dhul Arsha, I would have to cast my attention on metamagic. My first goal was to isolate the need for Chaotic Immersion, the phrase borrowed from my demonic counterpart, for whom I’d found absolutely no information on. It seemed that Reizenbrahm’s secret library wouldn’t even go as far as to include tomes on demonology.

Spellcasting was a milder form of Chaotic Immersion, while spellmaking was a more intense version of that. Casting several spells in concert upped your Chaotic Immersion, while shifting a spell signature to purity or casting a spell beyond your capability was by far the greatest version of it.

That was my goal. My agreement with Reizenbrahm, the price I paid for my life, was to find a way to make him immortal.

I could just reverse most of the damage age had wrought upon him, fix up his bones, tendons and muscles entirely, make him feel young, but as long as he had that ability, his system-granted magic known as a Class Skill, which allowed him to detect lies, I wouldn’t get away with that very easily.

I would have to find a way to circumvent it.

This was not an admission of defeat. I would do my best to push my Biomagic knowledge to its limits, for both him and myself, but I’d be damned if I let someone infringe on my privacy by knowing when I did or did not speak the truth. I could just pussyfoot around him, dodging both truth and lies in my speech, but it would be more dignified if I could just speak freely.

I fled a nation where I couldn’t speak freely, to a nation where I wasn’t expected to do the same. Here, I would remake myself entirely.

I picked up another book, this time a personal diary or journal, and jotted down the things I would be occupying myself with from now on, and then another book titled ‘Biomagic’.

For the latter, I wrote to great detail my personal perception on the glyphs of the ‘language’ that ‘Biomagic’ operated on, and did not get very far at all before Farhaan began to cry.

With a quick mental exertion, I sensed that he was hungry and gave him my breast. In the meanwhile, I did not write.

I just stared at the book. I was at the end of my tome titled ‘Biomagic’ and still, it felt like I hadn’t finished describing the glyphs at all. And…

“It shifts and it shifts, from this,” I read, and skipped past the strange squiggle that I somehow recognized, “To this, and then it...” I stopped to read quietly, scanning my eyes over the page, and flipping over different pages. Wordy descriptions about the subtle changes in glyphs, and how despite the changes, they still more or less meant the same thing, somehow.

It was all the same, going on from pages to pages.

I threw the book off the desk and contemplated this. My mind had gotten ahead of my common sense, because none of what I had put down was useful at all. I couldn’t reliably describe the glyphs and make that information useful to anyone. After all, it was all just binary, but written in a natural language. Raw, unprocessed data.

I switched breasts to feed Farhaan to maintain a sense of balance and pondered how I could get past this issue.

I wasn’t writing this book for myself. I was writing it for educational purposes, and if I couldn’t even transcribe — or transpose as it were — the very language that magic operated on, then how could any of it work?

I put a pin on it for now. If I could just find a World Obelisk, I didn’t have to share spells through books anyway. For now, it was fine if I just… created a shorthand.

It would take some work. Some glyphs combined, while others separated, and it all made sense in context, so chopping them up would be mentally taxing, but still. It could work.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, and this legacy I was leaving to the world was far, far greater.