The Years of Apocalypse - A Time Loop Progression Fantasy

She dreamed again. She might have expected the nightmares to come from the massacre of the south hills, or be of looming airships following her, but instead it was the dreams she couldn’t fathom the meaning of. She dreamed she was in the Labyrinth, halls twisting and turning. As she moved, passages closed up and left behind dirt, while new ones of metalloids and stone knit themselves together. There was a beating pulse beneath her, a warm thing that slithered about, and she knew she must follow it. When she tried to behold it, the vision of it slipped from her eyes, like it was an aftershadow. When she tried to hear it, it was as if the sound was just at the threshold of her hearing. When she tried to touch it, it was always just out of reach. It was as if her hand was so close she could feel the heat from her finger tips radiating back, but when she closed her hand, it was always empty.

Then there was a wailing, an endless scream that came from high above. Beneath, the pulse she had been seeking withered, and a terrible fear wormed into her. Something had gone wrong. Something was crying for help.

When Mirian woke, she lay there, trying to figure out what. She was sure the dream meant something. There was a pattern to these dreams that she remembered.

She looked over to the alarm candle. The nails looked like they’d fall out in an hour. Maybe two. Gods, she was up early. She tried to go back to sleep, but just lay there, mind racing with all the things she needed to do. There was just too much. Mirian reluctantly abandoned her warm covers and started her day.

This early in the morning, prism moths were still fluttering about. Normally, it was cloudy enough they looked like normal moths, but this morning, in the light of the twinkling Divir moon, their pale wings trailed a faint mist that shone like a rainbow. For some reason, their wings only glowed in the light of the Divir moon. The Luamin moon didn’t do the trick, even though it was much larger. Mirian just liked watching them flutter about. They gave the pre-dawn morning a sense of calm and beauty.

She went to Bainrose. Given the early hour, the guard told her, “The librarian isn’t in,” when she asked to enter. When she told him the librarian didn’t need to be there for him to let her in, he made up some bogus rule about how there were supposed to be a minimum number of people present in Bainrose at all times and he couldn’t let her in until the librarian returned. It might have fooled a second year who still didn’t quite know how things worked, but Mirian knew he was lying. That was good to know; he was tasked with keeping people out. It meant the spies were doing something in Bainrose.

It was cold, but she had her cloak and the weather still hadn’t turned as cold as it would in a few days. She said, “Then I’ll wait.” She sat on the bench just outside and continued work on her second spellrod design. The glyph light by the library was plenty illumination. It also let her keep an eye out on the front entrance.

The guard became uncomfortable. He clearly wanted to tell her to piss off, but couldn’t think of a reason for it. Eventually, he walked in. When he came out, another man was walking beside him, and Mirian also caught a glimpse of the night shift librarian through the door.

The man walking out was familiar. It was the one she mentally had categorized as ‘cloaked figure three,’ the one who could cast minor illusion spells. He’d done just that; his blond hair was now brown, and his face subtly transformed.

“Oh, I see the librarian,” Mirian said. “May I come in now?”

The guard looked annoyed, but he said, “Yes.”

“What’s up with the rule change?” Mirian asked the librarian.

“What rule change?” she asked. When Mirian explained what the guard had told her, she said, “That doesn’t sound—” but then she froze and looked toward the door. “I’ll have to check with my supervisor,” she said. “Sometimes they forget to tell me these things. Do you need any help finding the book you’re looking for?”

“No, I’ve got it. Thanks.”

Combat magic was on the first basement floor, and given how long the certification had been around, several people had written guides and explainers about the process and the spells involved. Mirian had a few of the spells already—Self Defense was a required class at Torrviol, after all—but these were the kind that involved a shock that couldn’t kill a mouse at full power, or force razor, which had the power to give people nasty paper cuts. Actually, paper cuts were probably more deadly.

The combat certification first involved a check on the person’s spellbook to make sure they had each relevant spell on a separate page, all the spells were transcribed correctly, and that it was just a spellbook. Some people had apparently started hiding miniature spell engines inside fake books to pretend they could cast spells, which involved paying an artificer a lot of money to commit fraud, which was a hefty fine for either of them if they got caught. It was another one of those examples of a few morons ruining something for everyone. She also would need to prepare three wands, each with a prescribed combat spell. This also struck her as wasteful.

Next, she had to take a test on when it was proper to use the spells. It seemed like the questions were very basic, like, “are you allowed to cast fire spells at your neighbor after he’s annoyed you?” to which the answer was obviously, “no.” No wonder people like Platus wanted to pursue combat degrees.

Finally, she had to demonstrate using the spells against a target while a supervisory mage watched over. The mage would also be using an item that measured various properties of the spell to make sure she was demonstrating enough competence that the spell wouldn’t do something it wasn’t supposed to, like blow her arm off, or blow the arm off of someone who was standing nearby. It made sense, given the kinds of energy that a proper combat spell could unleash. Still, this was Combat Certification I. There were four other levels beyond it. This one didn’t even certify her for the classic fireball.

It was legal to possess the first level combat spells, but only to practice them on a range. No one had better tell the frost scarabites that, they might report me, Mirian thought sardonically. She started transcribing the spells. Her ink kit had most of what she needed. Naturally, one of the spells required baduka boar ink, the one she didn't have. Just little ways the universe was constantly mocking her.

After nearly an hour, she had transcribed three spells and dawn was starting to illuminate the big stained glass windows of the main floor. She checked out one of the books, then headed over to the crafting facilities. They were closed still, and the woman working by the gate didn’t want to let her in.

“I just need some wood scraps and a bit of copper,” she said. “Stuff that you’ll burn or throw out anyways. There’s a leak above my room and maintenance has said they’re too busy. I just… I’m so sick of water dripping down into my room. Please?”

Her piteous demeanor seemed to do the trick. The woman relented, though she still watched as Mirian picked through one of the scrap piles.

Then it was back to the dorm. Patching up the holes was no problem with shape wood, but she didn’t have the full spell for repairing metal. Mirian paged through her spellbook. She realized she had all the glyphs she needed, they were just all on different pages. It wasn’t safe to start casting, then flip back and forth rapidly between pages… but it would work, wouldn’t it?

Twice, she fizzled the spell, and the third time, she accidentally punched a hole in the wall plaster (and winced, hoping she hadn’t woken anyone up). But the fourth time, it worked—actually worked! She beamed with pride, and in a demonstration of infinite beneficence, turned the hot water back on.

A yelp downstairs told her maybe next time she should check the showers first. What kind of psycho took cold showers, though?

Triumphant, Mirian headed back to her room. It was time to talk to Lily.

She’d considered what to say. In the end, she couldn’t bear the thought of her best friend dying. Mirian wanted her to come along. That meant saying something. “Hey roomie,” she said.

Lily gave her a look. “How long have you been up?”

“Not gonna talk about that. Listen, you’ve known me for over five years now. Do I just make stuff up?”

“Sometimes.”

“I—what? No I don’t!”

Lily laughed. “Most of the time you don’t.”

“Okay, so you know the hole above my bed that appeared yesterday? Pretty weird, right?”

“Yeah. Did you figure out what did that?”

“No, but it’s the third time it’s happened to me. It’s the third time I’ve woken up on the 1st of Solem. The Academy is going to be attacked by Akana Praediar on the 28th. By the night of the 28th, basically everyone in Torrviol is dead. I tried to—let me finish. I tried to stop it last time, no one believed me. I understand that. What I’m saying sounds insane. But it’s true. So, couple of problems: most of the things I can predict have other explanations. The other is that people change what they do if I tell them. However, yesterday I stopped an Akanan spy who was trying to break into the Myrvite Studies building. And I stole a bag off another one that was hopping around on the roof.”

“You stole a bag? Mirian, you can’t just steal from people—”

“They’re going to get everyone in town killed! They’re pure evil, you’re totally allowed to steal from evil people.” Mirian fished the bag out from under her bed. “Look, check out this scroll.”

Lily’s eyes were wide and she was looking at Mirian like she’d grown two more heads. She took the scroll and opened it up, then kept glancing back and forth between it and Mirian before she said, “Okay, obviously I can’t read it. Are you sure this is written in Eskanar? I don’t even recognize a single word.”

“Professor Torres said it was in a cipher.”

“Wait, you showed this to one of your professors?”

“It came up. I can predict more stuff that happens in her classes because I’ve been there. For you… well, I just know the stories you tell, I wasn’t there. And it’s not 100%, it might change. But you do meet someone named Selesia tomorrow. And don’t get all weird on her when that happens, because I don’t want that to change!” Mirian told her a few things Lily would complain about in the next few days. ‘A few’ was all she could manage. The first go around she’d been harried by the maintenance issue, so it was just the last cycle she was thinking of.

Lily said, “I… do I need to call a healer? I mean, I can also escort you to the hospital or temple. Are you sure that… one of the professors might be able to help?”

Mirian wanted to sigh, but restrained herself. She said that last time, too. “You need some time. Just… look for the things I mentioned. I’ll see you after classes, alright? And I’m still Mirian, even if I’m saying stuff only a crazy person would say. Oh, and don’t go spreading around the scroll-thing, okay? Captain Mandez is on the payroll of the Akanan spies and I am not going to prison again. Anyways, we both have class to get to. See you later!”

Lily’s mouth opened. “Wait. Mirian. You’re not going to what!? Mirian! You can not just drop that and leave!”

“Sorry! Alchemistry exam today! Still planning on graduating just in case I don’t die!”

On reflection, that was probably not the best way to end the conversation, but Mirian needed to go. Having your best friend think you’d turned into a Gods-touched lunatic was not a good feeling.

During the Alchemistry exam, Professor Seneca was doing the usual thing where the worry on her face increased as she walked around and looked at people’s exams, causing a trail of despair in her wake as people realized they were getting things wrong. But when she glanced at Mirian’s test, she did a double-take, raised an eyebrow, gave a small smile, and then kept walking. Well, third try’s the charm, Mirian thought. It didn’t look like Nicolus was having as good a time. Bickering with Calisto probably hadn’t helped him focus.

This time, Viridian had a bright smile on his face as usual, and had brought a plant. It didn’t look like much; it was a thin pale stalk topped by a little purple flower that glimmered like a faint star. It was also completely encased in two layers of glass, with warding glyphs all over it.

He placed his hand on top of the glass bell covering it, and said, “This is Violet Wispsorrow, a tiny flower capable of powerful illusion magic. It won’t kill you, but it can entrance you for hours. You should be able to derive the magichemical it produces and its ecological relation to the Labyrinth just from what I’ve told you and what you know about the other myrvites in the marsh ecology.”

The class was silent. Even Valen was silent this time.

For once, Mirian raised her hand. “It produces a spectrophosphate,” she said. She was pretty sure that was right.

“Quite right!” Professor Viridian said, absolutely beaming. That made her feel pretty good. All her extra Alchemistry work was paying off.

As Viridian started his lecture, it also gave Mirian an idea. She’d been thinking that combat spells were the best way to deal with the spies—but what if she could use illusion magic to get the spies to tell her stuff? And better convince people of things? The problem was twofold, though. One, she didn’t know Eskanar, and two she didn’t know illusion magic. She had maybe three illusion spells in her spellbook, and geometric image, which created simple things like illusionary cubes, pyramids, or spheres, was actually from one of her math classes.

If she was going to be stuck in this month, there was no reason not to take advantage of that.

After class, she was free for the next few hours since Torres had given her permission to skip. First she went to the Tower Trust bank and established a much larger line of credit, depositing most of the coins she’d found in the satchel, but with the option to take out a loan worth twice as much. She was sure not to deposit the exact amount she’d stolen, as the guards would no doubt be asking about that, and happily chatted with the banker about how proud she was of her father for getting a new promotion. Mentally she was thinking teachers don’t get promotions, but the banker was only interested in checking the weight of her coins, not her family history. He asked where the money came from for regulatory purposes; he didn’t actually care.

The bank then issued her notes she could exchange with any of the local merchants. They all knew Tower Trust was reliable. Armed with this infusion of money, she got herself a new glyph pen with a chimera-and-gold alloy catalyst and a fresh set of glyph-nibs. Then she started stocking up on the materials she’d need for a really nice spellrod. Silver wire was for people who weren’t taking advantage of the imminent doom of Torrviol; it was only gold wire for her from here on out. She could use all the caudicite and corundum she wanted. Mirian was giddy at the opportunity. However, acquiring the credit and the materials (and lunch) was all she had time for before math class.

Mirian paid close attention to the Arcane Mathematics lesson, then just as she had before, she waited outside the lecture hall to see where Professor Jei went. Once again, though, she didn’t emerge. This time, Mirian waited nearly a half hour. Finally, she walked back into the lecture hall to see if the mathematics professor was just in the classroom for some reason. But she wasn’t. Mirian checked around, but couldn’t find any other exits. Five hells—had Professor Jei gone out the window or something? How had she left Griffin Hall?

Baffled, there was little for Mirian to do but return to her dorm. After all, she had duels to go to, and a new friend to meet. Friend, she thought, with a pang of regret. Maybe she could convince Selesia to come with her when she left too, and they might become something more. Gods, watching her die like that… watching them all die…. Mirian shivered. She had to make little jokes to herself about it all, because otherwise she really was going to turn into a full-on lunatic.