The Years of Apocalypse - A Time Loop Progression Fantasy

As soon as Viridian was done with his dramatic proclamation, the room erupted into conversation. Mirian sat in her chair, thinking. Luspire was rubbing his forehead like he had a headache. Torres had gone pale. Jei was sitting there stoically like someone had just told her the weather would be overcast. Holvatti and Atger had begun to shout some sort of counter-argument that involved flaws in methodology, while Runer and Endresen argued back at them. There were, Mirian knew, various petty feuds among the professors, though she had deliberately tried to avoid learning about them because they seemed so infantile.

Mirian went back through the illusion displays. She had no doubt in her mind that Viridian was right. The leylines might fluctuate in energy naturally, but there was no historical precedent for a disaster like this. The arcane energy had come from somewhere, and the question of spell engine leakage had been a longstanding one.

What she didn't need was to get a headache from incessant bickering.

"Enough," she said, amplifying her voice.

The room turned to her.

"Viridian, how long does it take for an arcane energy buildup like this?"

"I believe there's an ecological component to this, too," he said calmly. "The disruptions in myrvite populations are also contributing to the energy buildups, though I can only say how that works on the local organisms here. At the current rate? Perhaps a decade."

Mirian let out a breath she'd been holding. "That changes the equation. We don't need to end spell engine usage overnight. But we will need to drastically curtail its usage, then find a way to dissipate energy buildup faster than more energy is being added. This still doesn't help us actually solve the current crisis, just prevent the next one."

"But there can be no other way to move that much arcane energy!" Holvatti protested. "We have to use spell engines to do it."

Torres glared at him. "And every ten spell engines we used would require us to use another eight spell engines to compensate for their output. Neither the fossilized myrvite supply nor the industry of either Akana or Baracuel can handle such a task. New problems require new solutions."

"Of course you'd say that," Atger said.

"Professor Atger, kindly leave this room," Mirian said, voice calm but deadly.

"What? I—"

Luspire rolled his eyes. "Do it, Jurrian. And next time, don't act like a child."

Jurrian Atger looked around the table, then went beet red. He angrily scooched back his chair then left.

As the door closed, Jei spoke. "The reason a wand conduit works is because it allows no other path for the arcane energy. This lets casters get sloppy with energy manipulation, which is bad. But it also shows us that arcane energy, once in conduit of sufficient capacity, can be redirected without external energy. This is the theoretical basis to proceed."

Torres said something to Jei in Gulwenen, and she replied. Torres stood. "I agree with Song. Research in conduit formation and the design of passive siphon-conduits must be our priority. Sefora and Holvatti, you could collaborate to test for new conduits that might be able to more efficiently carry the arcane force. Jei and I can work on the design of a passive conduit."

Mirian sighed. "This isn't the first cycle we've done something like this. Seneca, you've already tried a lot of crystal variations, using a device from the Labyrinth that can grow perfect crystals every time. None of them have beat corundum." Mirian hesitated. "Though I do have a theory. Just as small inclusions can change corundum from sapphire to ruby, perhaps orichalcum or mythril inclusions can increase corundum's arcane capacity. There are still plenty of things to test." She surveyed the room. "Archmage, I would like you to lead the efforts on the Divine Monument. And I'd like you to bring Endresen into the project."

She continued, assigning roles that would change up the dynamics from previous cycles. As long as initial conditions changed, so would their thinking, and they might find something new.

Finally, she ended with, "And Viridian, we need to talk."

Viridian's eyes sparkled. "Of course," he said.

***

As the denizens of the Academy scurried about, Mirian met Viridian in the Myrvite Studies secure area. He seemed surprised when she had a glyphkey already.

"The Akanan spies have them. I usually take one for convenience if I'm sticking around Torrviol."

"Ah," Viridian said. "Do I actually need to explain any part of this building to you?"

"No."

"That simplifies things. You are familiar with soul magic?"

"Of course."

"Excellent. No doubt, a priest has told you that you need a focus to do soul magic?"

"Yes, but I know you can manipulate your own soul with internal bindings like what Marva does, and with dervish forms."

"Ah," Viridian said. He looked a bit disappointed.

"I'm quite used to discovering things I've been taught are wrong at this point. If you'd like, I can pretend to be surprised when you reveal whatever it is you're getting at."

"No, no, that's alright." He let out a big sigh. "Well, I've spent a great deal more time researching and practicing druidic magic than came out in my heresy trial. Just a suggestion, but if you end up reforming the Luminate Order, could you do something about the ridiculous necromancy laws?"

"Already part of the plan," Mirian assured him.

"Good, good. Conceptually, the druidic practices are straightforward. With training, you can manipulate your soul to interact with the soul of a live myrvite. Through tapping into its catalyst while it lives, you can influence both its soul and magic. It was developed by a society that had access neither to catalyst refinement techniques nor soul focuses. To be honest, it may end up being of little use to you, given how much more efficient runes and glyphs are for casting multiple spells. I simply find the practice fascinating, though."

"Not everything we learn has a use that is immediately apparent."

"Quite true."

They walked into the greenhouse. Mirian noticed that there were enchantments everywhere. No doubt they needed constant charging. "You've already put your theory into practice," she noted. "No spell engines here."

"I had to twist Medius's arm about that, but he eventually relented. When I started growing rare myrvite flora that Academy could sell to fund its other operations, the good Archmage gave me a lot more of a free reign. And we had already agreed he wouldn't discuss how I did it. Obviously, you've picked up on the method."

"You communicate directly with their souls," she guessed. "This helps you figure out exactly what a plant needs to flourish without having to extensively test environmental conditions."

"Precisely. My, you must have had quite a good teacher," he said, winking.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Mirian laughed. "You're in quite the mood," she said.

"My dear, when you've been cast out of polite society for your controversial research, and then the very herald of the Gods comes and vindicates you, it's a very nice feeling."

"Yes, it must be."

They arrived at a section in the greenhouse full of jelly bells of different colors. To their left were several fireweeds, and to their right, violet wispsorrows.

"We'll start with jelly bells. Best to use something harmless. Just remember not to lick your hand after touching them," he said.

"Yeah, I know. Unless I'm constipated," Mirian said.

Viridian gently touched one of the jellyfish-like blooms atop the plant. He closed his eyes. "Teaching this will be significantly easier with your celestial focus and prior experience. First, I'll demonstrate, and you can watch what I do with that focus of yours."

Mirian actually used the titan catalyst, as she'd found it was much more flexible and let her perceive souls in more detail. However, she hadn't wanted to explain the whole deal with the myrvite titan to the professors, and was still keeping the existence of relicarium secret until she could meet with a time traveler she trusted.

Professor Viridian slowed his breathing. She could see his soul starting to move. The patterns reminded her of a dervish form, only it wasn't like any of the forms she knew. There was a pulsing radiance to his soul, like a growing heartbeat, like morning dew beading upon a blade of grass. She watched carefully as he delicately brought the very edge of these energies into contact with the stem of the plant.

"Souls feel intent," Viridian said, eyes still closed, attention still focused. "For plants, they only understand simple concepts. Reach. Sense. Want. Bloom. Grow."

Mirian suddenly felt like her head had been submerged in a rushing river. She could hear the blood flowing through her, feel her own heartbeat, feel her soul, whirling.

GROW the Ominian had commanded her.

The realization struck her like a physical blow. The simplest command They could have given. The Elder language is of the glyphs and runes, not of words. But as illusion magic shows, such words aren't restricted to the fundamental forces or universal coordinates. Glyphs and runes can communicate directly with the mind and soul. A language of the soul. And the druids stumbled upon it. She reeled.

"…to sense other kinds of… Mirian? Are you listening?" Viridian was saying.

"Sorry. I just had—I understand something now. Proceed with your lesson."

"Ah, good." The old professor closed his eyes again. "As I was saying, like using your aura to sense other kinds of mana, you can sense, by inference, what their soul is doing by the pressures it exerts on the radiant membrane. Ah, that's the term for the thin gradient between the soul and aura. If a jelly bell is lacking a critical nutrient, lacking light, or lacking water, it will push different kinds of want signals. The challenge is that each myrvite species is different. Most plants feel generally similar in how they communicate, but a royal cordyline will push danger at you unless it gets used to your aura. It will also release some sort of particle I can't seem to identify or isolate that causes its neighbors to also smolder like they think they're about to be eaten."

Mirian watched, and listened, taking it all in, as the old wizard continued his lesson.

***

Over the next few weeks, Mirian spent almost all her time with Viridian. Her myrvite ecology professor was overjoyed to impart all he'd learned, and Mirian was eager to absorb it all. They spent hours each day as Viridian demonstrated new 'words' in the soul-language and Mirian practiced. She realized that she had already been trying to learn this 'language' as she dreamed with the Ominian, but her progress had been halting and uneven. Now, there would be a structure to her efforts.

She spent hours in contemplation, too, trying to bring together the disparate concepts into a theoretical whole.

That implies it's my soul directly interacting with the Ominian when I dream. Perhaps the temporal anchor facilitates it. If Troytin's anchor ended up back in the Ominian, perhaps there's a link between us, like an invisible telegraph line moving through the fourth dimension. But my soul can't be leaving my body, or my body would die. So that implies…

She wasn't sure what it implied, and thinking too hard about it sometimes gave her a headache. Still, Mirian felt like she was on the cusp of some greater understanding.

Mirian regularly took reports from the other professors. Jei's team had quickly discovered that introducing orichalcum into a conduit crystal drastically decreased its ability to conduct mana. However, if Mirian aligned that orichalcum to her own soul and then conducted mana, it increased her conduction significantly.

That didn't necessarily solve the problem. Presumably, that meant adamantium-doped corundum would be able to conduct magnitudes more mana, but that mana would need to come from an arcanist. That would only work if they were able to bring a leyline under control in the first place. Perhaps the mana siphoning spells are a better way to proceed, but none of the professors could test it because they can't use runes. And the priests who can use runes aren't practiced in arcanism. Maybe there's a way to align the orichalcum so that it aligns with the leyline in the same way I align it to my soul? Which, again, would mean being able to directly study a leyline, which meant either digging to one or delving deep into the Labyrinth, and then finding a way to get close enough to study one without being annihilated by it. Every direction she searched, the technical problems seemed overwhelming.

Archmage Luspire's work on the Divine Monument predictably discovered nothing new. Mirian had sent a team down to Palendurio to search for traces of a second monument in the place her leyline data suggested it would be, but the zephyr falcons they sent back reported they had found nothing. Seneca and Holvatti's work with crystals found little of interest. That wasn't surprising either; if thousands of wizards across Enteria had failed to discover something, it was because new discoveries were going to be difficult.

That brought Mirian's thoughts back to Akana's factories. How many people could I bring on to a research project? Of course, that introduced the problem of being able to actually use such a research effort. She only had the one book, and its pages were finite.

As the Akanan invasion neared, Viridian at least moved his lessons from plants to animals. They started with one of the lesser wyverns that the old wizard had bonded with. First, they spent a few hours letting the wyvern acclimate to her. Mirian started by throwing strips of boar meat at the creature, then gradually moved to hand-feeding it. By the end of the day, it was letting Mirian brush its scales and making happy growling noises.

The next day, she fed it, then attempted her first soul communication. Friend, she pushed toward it as the wyvern gulped down the meat eagerly. Groom?

Its soul vibrated with what Mirian recognized as excitement. As she began to brush it, it settled down into contentment, and laid down in its enclosure and made cute little rumbly noises. She looked up at Viridian, who had the biggest smile she'd ever seen plastered on his face.

That evening, she talked about the First City with him.

Viridian's brow furrowed as he listened to her describe what she'd observed.

"I have another theory," he said. "Though I have no way to test it. Consider: what happens to a soul when someone dies?"

"It dissipates," Mirian answered.

"Dissipates to where?"

"It dissipates. Fades. The Isheer think it goes and joins God. I think it vanishes."

Viridian leaned back in his chair. "Matter can neither be created nor destroyed, correct?"

"Of course," Mirian said.

"Why should ethereal matter like souls or mana be any different?"

"I've seen souls fade upon death. My divination is quite good now. After a certain point, I can detect nothing. The soul has faded."

"Does it go somewhere, perhaps?" When Mirian didn't answer, he said, "Consider a drop of water."

"Done," Mirian said.

Viridian raised an eyebrow. "Humor me. Put it in a glass dome. Add heat to the water. It evaporates. Is it gone?"

"Of course not."

"How do we know?"

"Because we can cool the air and it condenses again. The mass of the system doesn't change."

"Precisely. But we know while evaporated, the water was too small and dispersed to be seen. It had vanished, but it was still there. Consider the soul."

Mirian nodded. "I see your point. Only, we don't know how to condense a soul." She leaned back in her own chair, and together, the two of them were silent for some time. At last she said, "Perhaps ethereal matter is something between matter and energy conceptually. I believe arcane energy and soul energy represent the same thing at different intensities of energy, much like how the amount of energy in light determines its color. After all, the soul creates the aura. As souls lose energy after death, they fade into mana again."

"And yet, that energy must go somewhere for the transformation to take place, no? It's clear our knowledge of the system is incomplete."

She sighed. "Along with so many things." Mirian stood and looked west. The embassy fires and assassination had taken place as normal. The Akanan invasion would be arriving soon.

"Next cycle, I'll take you to the First City. Perhaps if you see it for yourself you can give me more insight, and we can test this idea of yours."

"It sounds like a fascinating place. And this cycle?"

"We'll finish our research. However, there's a material I'd like to study. If it can affect the leylines, I want to know more about it." She stood and cracked her knuckles. "It's a pity they put them in the hearts of those Akanan dreadnoughts."