Victor of Tucson

Book 10: Chapter 15: Solar Caster

For the next two days, Victor spent his time supervising the workers as they made progress on his cultivation chamber. Having access to master artisans, all the materials he could ask for, and Elementalists who could shape and mold stone made for much quicker progress than he’d imagined. The demolition phase was done in the days leading up to his meeting with the queen, and, in a single day, the masons employed by the duchy, combined with the efforts of an Earth Elementalists, constructed the new wall and the spherical chamber beyond the round portal—ready for the amber ore once it arrived.

Victor had established his new mining company with Draj’s help. His chancellor had all the necessary connections; he was familiar with every major private mining company and even had dossiers on their owners, managers, and supervisors. Victor made it clear that the “Amber Mine” would be a private endeavor, though he would pay the duchy its taxes like any private miner would, and Draj agreed to find him an available manager and crew. All that had been left was to show them where the ore was, and Victor tapped Bryn’s squire, Feist, for that.

Feist, newly married and only recently back to work in the palace, was all too eager for some time on the road. Victor found his enthusiasm funny, but Bryn only shook her head in disgust, promising a renewed focus on weapons training when the squire returned. Victor didn’t envy the squire the beating he likely had coming his way. Along with the duty of guiding the company to the amber ore, Victor had charged Feist with the job of securing oaths and contracts with each employee; they weren’t to disclose the richness of Victor’s stake to anyone on their visits to town.

Draj had been concerned that if word got out about Victor’s claim on the amber ore, people would decry the injustice, so he’d suggested Victor personally pay for the mining lease in addition to the taxes he’d pay on his profits. He’d also suggested that the proceeds from the mine’s fees be set aside and used for infrastructure improvements around the Duchy—let the people see with their own eyes how Victor’s good fortune was theirs as well. Victor wholeheartedly agreed because, despite those expenses, he stood to extract an enormous fortune from his “mine.” It made him wonder just how wealthy Iron Mountain had been as a kingdom before it had fallen to the empire. He couldn’t imagine spending so much to guard a dungeon from competitors.

On the morning of Arona’s vessel ritual, Victor summoned Draj to have breakfast with him in his quarters. As they both finished eating, he sipped his coffee and regarded his chancellor over the rim of his cup. “How long do you think it’ll be before I see the first shipments of amber ore in the city? I’ve hired an artisan for the mechanical pieces I’ll need, and our Metal Shaper is standing by; all I need is the metal.”

Draj cleared his throat and dabbed his napkin at the corners of his mouth. “Have you had an update from your man? Is the crew in place?”

“Yes, they were setting up their operation yesterday.”

“Well, it’s my understanding that the primary obstacle is the removal of the warding runes carved into the, um, ore.” Draj chuckled. “Petallis is one of the best Glyphbinders in all of Gloria, and she spoke confidently when I hired her onto the job. However, it may take her days or weeks; I honestly don’t know. I’m sorry, Your Grace, but it’s outside my expertise. I’m sure she has an idea by now, however. Perhaps your man can wring a commitment out of her.”

Victor nodded. “I’ll have Bryn message Feist.” He pushed his chair back. “Listen, I’ve got a commitment this morning. Will you walk with me? I have a couple of things to go over with you.”

“Of course!”

Victor nodded and led the way out of his quarters, past the waiting kitchen staff who rushed in to clear his table. In the elevator, he said, “Tomorrow, I’m going to join the queen as she negotiates the terms of my next duel. I want to get a look at the champion I’ll be facing.”

“Understandable, milord.” Draj frowned and opened his mouth but closed it before speaking again.

“Go on, Draj. Speak freely.”

“Are you concerned? Do you…”

“I don’t intend to lose. I’m not concerned so much as curious. Nobody knows this guy, and King Bayle is very confident.”

“I can see why you’d want to assess your opponent.” Draj’s tone was carefully neutral, and Victor figured the man was trying not to say something that might shake Victor’s confidence. Victor would be lying if he said he hadn’t had a few sleepless nights while his mind ran through a million scenarios. There were just too many possibilities for him to build a coherent strategy; he figured he’d have to adapt on the go, and it might be painful, but he’d pull through. It wasn’t like Loss Chenasta was in a much better situation; despite his duels up to this point, the people of Ruhn had yet to see the vast majority of Victor’s abilities.

“Well, I mentioned it to you because I have another ally who will soon be joining me here at Iron Mountain. In fact, if all goes well, she’ll be here today. I was hoping you’d familiarize her with the duchy and show her around. Let her shadow you tomorrow and the next day while I’m busy with the duel.”

“Shadow me, sir? Am I to be replaced, then?”

Victor chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder as they stepped out of the elevator. “You wish, Draj! No, you’re stuck with this job, I’m afraid. Arona—that’s my friend’s name—will be advising me and spending most of her time by my side. I think it’s important for her to know what sorts of responsibilities I have. You know a lot about the duchy, but you’re also familiar with the other nations of Ruhn—the rulers, champions, and all the rumors that go along with them. Get her up to speed for me, will you?”

“Ah!” Draj smiled and nodded emphatically. “I will do so, but if it pleases you, I’ll also introduce her to my mother. If I’m a journeyman on court intrigue, she’s a grandmaster.”

Victor nodded. “Excellent idea. Between you and Tyla, I think Arona will be up to speed in no time.” They reached the central junction of major corridors in the palace, and Victor nodded to the right where Trobban and his makeshift workshop awaited. “I’m going this way. Perhaps I’ll track you down later today and introduce you to Arona.”

“Very good, Your Grace. I'll let you know if I hear any news on your mining endeavor.” Draj bowed and departed, walking toward the east wing, and Victor turned the other way. A few minutes later, the guards opened the doors, and he was striding across the ballroom to Trobban. The floor was clear; all the tables and paraphernalia were gone. In their place was an elaborate ritual pattern drawn in liquid metal that shimmered and sparkled in the chandelier lights.

Arona's new vessel lay at the center of the pattern, clad in a spectacular, silken mauve gown embroidered with pale pink gemstones. Other than the gown, the vessel looked exactly as Victor remembered it—silvery flesh and hair, with softly glowing blue, crystal eyes. Trobban walked around the pattern, placing the artifacts necessary for the ritual in key locations. Victor saw Arona’s phylactery bone and dozens of Energy stones—gems charged with pure, unattuned Energy that would power the transfer ritual.

“How goes it? Will Arona be present?” Victor hadn’t spoken to her since he’d come to collect his extra Energy hearts.

“No, Victor. She should be assuming a meditative trance inside her phylactery. This process will be trying for her. As to your first question, it’s going well. I successfully implanted the Azurite Star in the vessel, and it was, as far as my probing could discern, completely attuned to solar Energy.”

“And everything else?”

“Everything is in place. The only object that gave me any trouble was the egg of crystalline sentience. Such a delicate, powerful artifact—I toiled for months just to make the runic connections from it to her heart, Core, and nervous system. Still, it sits ready to receive Arona’s intellect.”

“How can you be sure it’s right?”

“I have probing spells, Your Grace. Certain Classes grant such abilities. I can test connections and gauge the perfection of my work before committing. This vessel is as perfect as I can make it. Every part of it is at least of epic-tier quality.”

“So Arona won’t lose any levels?”

“Ah,” Trobban chuckled. “I would promise that if she’d maintained her original affinity, but when her spirit goes through the pattern here—” He gestured to the glimmering silver lines and runes. “—her accumulated Energy will be transformed so that it can find purchase in her new Core. She may lose a small percentage in the process.”

Victor nodded, thinking about Lam and Edeya. This was a very different process than they’d gone through; he’d already had that discussion with Trobban. The main difference was that Arona had been a Death Caster with a phylactery. When her body had died, she’d had a “backup” of sorts in her phylactery—an artificial battery that would hold her Energy, along with her spirit. Ideally, a Death Caster who lost their body but had a phylactery wouldn’t be any weaker when they entered a new vessel. If everything went right here, despite her desire to abandon her death-attuned Energy, Arona would still be close to the same power level in her new body.

“Will she be able to gain levels?”

“Of course! The Azurite Star, once it’s infused with her Energy and connected to her spirit, will function just as any natural Core. It will expand as she cultivates Energy. Her vessel, likewise, can gain Energy density. Our preparations ensured that she could reach the rank of steel seeker and beyond.”

“The ‘epic-tier’ materials.”

“Correct. Of course, academically speaking, there are tiers beyond epic, but nobody I know has reached them.”

“That you know of.” Victor was more than confident that many veil walkers and probably some steel seekers had reached “legendary” in one or more aspect of their development—skills, spells, bloodline, even Classes. People like him and Trobban simply weren’t privy to such knowledge. Great masters didn’t like to advertise their secrets; if they wrote them into books, they didn’t tend to fall into the hands of iron rankers.

“Exactly so, milord.”

“Well,” Victor asked, looking around the pattern, “what’s left to do? Can I help?”

“Not at all. I’m nearly finished. If you’ll but stand to the side there, a few feet away from the pattern, so there’s no risk of your aura interfering with the process, I’ll be ready to begin in five minutes or so.”

Victor moved several paces back, folding his arms over his chest as he watched the man move about, tracing his lines and muttering softly. He could only imagine how nerve-wracking this process was to him. He’d worked tirelessly for months and months. There were priceless artifacts involved, not to mention Arona’s life. Honestly, Trobban had spent more time with Arona now than Victor had. He doubted it could be easy to shoulder so much responsibility.

At the thought, he almost chuckled. He wasn’t a stranger to having weight on his shoulders, either. As Trobban worked, another thought came to him, and he asked, “Hey, Trobban. If this works, do you think you’ll gain a level?”

“Hah!” the Artificer laughed, shaking his head. “I would say so, milord. More than that, I anticipate several of my harder-to-improve skills will advance. This has been a wonderful opportunity.”

“You’re not nervous, huh?”

“I’ll admit to some anxiety, but I’m more excited than worried. As I said, I’ve tested everything a hundred times. Barring some calamity, I’m confident things will go as planned.” Quietly, Victor took several steps back and knocked his knuckles against the dark, wooden wainscoting—no sense in letting Trobban jinx things. “I’m ready, Your Grace!” Trobban announced, moving to the far end of the pattern where a single, large Energy gem sat, pulsing with yellow-white light. “Once I initiate the spell, things will happen quickly. Watch her phylactery!”

Victor nodded and focused on the dark, rune-etched bone. He remembered when Arona had given it to him, her scratchy voice coming to him in the dark cave, asking him to bury it for her if she died. He remembered watching Ronkerz’s Big One ripping her body apart in his crocodilian jaws and nearly losing himself to his rage.

Clicking his tongue, he watched the bone, hoping everything they’d done wouldn’t be for nothing. Trobban began to chant, his words strange and foreign, the System failing or choosing not to interpret them. Victor felt a great rush of Energy, and the gems around the pattern all blazed like thermite flares. With a rush of cold wind, a fountain of dark-blue, death-attuned Energy rushed out of the phylactery.

The Energy rose into the air, forming a cloud that exuded frigid darkness, but then it began to seep downward into the pattern, flowing into the metallic lines. In moments, the entire cloud of death-attuned Energy soaked into the pattern, and Victor could see it tracing through, almost like watching water running through a channel. The pattern was enormous and complex, and despite the speed of the Energy, it took a long time to flow through it.

The Energy was still tinted blue in the pattern, but as Victor watched, the leading edge began to shift, paling toward white and then picking up a bright, golden hue. “It’s working!” Trobban cried. Victor felt some relief at those words, and he continued to watch as the Energy traced through the pattern, first around the perimeter, then spiraling toward the center where Arona’s new vessel awaited.

It took nearly five minutes, and by the time the leading edge of Energy hit the thick circle of silver that surrounded Arona’s body, it was clear that it had taken on the solar attunement; it blazed white-yellow, almost too bright to stare at. Once the thick silver circle was filled with Energy, it began to fill tiny, spiderweb veins that ran directly into the vessel's palms where they lay against the ballroom floor.

“The pattern provides resistance, allowing the Energy to trickle into her safely, lest we overwhelm her pathways!” Trobban yelled.

Victor was a good thirty yards from the pattern's center, but he had good eyes. He squinted, peering at the vessel’s hands where the Energy poured into them, and when he saw the first sign that Arona was imprinting, he smiled broadly. Her fingernails had taken on a lifelike hue—opaque but no longer silver. More than that, the flesh beneath them was pink, and while he watched, the fleshy color spread down her fingers, over the backs of her hands, and up her wrists and forearms.

As the Energy gathered in the ring around her body, it grew brighter and brighter, and the glare made it impossible to see Arona’s vessel, even for Victor’s eyes. He shifted his gaze to Trobban and saw the man pacing near the circle, wringing his hands with nervous energy. At first, Victor thought something was wrong, but when he looked up, Trobban’s face told the tale—he was ecstatic, not worried. A flickering pulse from the pattern's center stole his attention, and Victor looked back toward the vessel.

The Energy was dimming, more than half of it having been absorbed, and as Victor watched, the body began to lift off the floor, hovering in the air as the final threads of bright Energy flowed into it. Victor couldn’t believe his eyes. Arona’s hair hung in black, luxurious curls; her flesh was pale but vibrant, just a hint of rosiness to her cheeks, and, as Victor held his breath, the vessel’s chest began to move—up and down with slow, steady breaths.

When the last of the Energy streaked into her, Arona’s aura came alive—warm, vibrant, powerful, washing through the ballroom as she opened her eyes, no longer crystalline, but fully alive, blazing with brilliant Energy behind her pale, sky-blue irises. She arched her back and gasped, and then the ritual ended, and she floated down to the floor, murmuring and writhing weakly.

Victor started toward her, worry warring with excitement as he wondered if everything was all right. He’d only taken a few strides when a thud drew his attention to Trobban. The artificer had collapsed, arms and legs spread-eagled as a look of pure ecstasy washed over his face. “What the hell?” Victor chuckled and hurried to Arona’s side, kneeling beside her. She was human-sized, so he concentrated and threw more Energy into his Alter Self spell, reducing his size to match hers.

“Arona!” he said, taking her hand in his. It was warm and soft. Could it really be made of metallic flesh and crystalline bones?

She blinked her eyes rapidly and then looked at him. At first, she frowned and pulled away, but after a second, she blinked again and smiled. “V-Victor?”

“Did I get uglier?”

Her soft pink lips spread into a smile, revealing regular, white teeth; her old, sharp teeth were gone. He wondered about that. Was it a decision she’d made when Trobban crafted her skeleton, or had her spirit decided she wouldn’t have sharp teeth any longer? She spoke again, proving she still had her trademark scratchy voice, “No, but things are different with these eyes—brighter, clearer. I wonder if it’s the lack of death’s miasma in my pathways. I feel so good!”

She struggled to push herself upright, and Victor pulled on her hand to help her sit. “It looks like everything went well.”

“I believe it did.” She stared into space, her face blank, and Victor thought something was wrong, but then she spoke again. “I lost three levels, but I’m still tier-nine. Dammit, but that stings—something like eight years of work.”

“Was it worth it?”

“To be alive? To be free of Vesavo Bonewhisper? To have a bright, life-loving Energy at my Core? I would have traded far more!” Despite her scratchy voice, it practically bubbled with happiness, and Victor felt a weight disappear, a worry he hadn’t realized he’d been clinging to.

“I’m happy for you, Arona. Here, let me help you up.” He stood and tugged on her hand, and she lithely sprang to her feet.

She stared into space momentarily, leaning on Victor, but then she straightened and smiled again. “My intelligence attribute has improved! The mind you gave me! Victor, I’ll never be able to repay you!”

“Nah, that’s not true. Having a friend by my side will be worth more than any artifact. Come on—" He gestured at Trobban’s prone figure. “—let’s see how our friend is doing. When the spell succeeded, he collapsed, no doubt struck dumb by the Energy infusion and skill improvements he reaped.”

“Oh!” Arona looked at Trobban’s twitching form and giggled. “Are you sure we shouldn’t give him some privacy?”

Victor laughed. “Maybe.”

Arona stopped and tugged on his arm until he turned to look directly at her. “Thank you, Victor. I’m so happy! You spoke lightly before, but I swear to you: while I live, you will have a loyal ally.”

He smiled and nodded. “That’s all I can ask for, Arona.” He’d never spoken truer words. What more could he want than close friends? If he’d kept all of those treasures, hoarded them away in his vault, what joy would that bring him? The warmth in his heart at seeing Arona break free from her cursed life was worth a hundred Azurite Stars. He tugged her toward Trobban again and yelled, “Get up, Trobban! This isn’t a private room!”