The Years of Apocalypse - A Time Loop Progression Fantasy

To Mirian’s surprise, it was Professor Torres who sought her out, that Thirdday evening. Or rather, Torres sent an Academy messenger. Most towns did something like it; spry youngsters looking for a little money let it be known they could be hired for short messages to people. Running about town didn’t need one of the official Couriers. The boy knocked on her door just before dinner, surprising both her and Lily.

“Message from Professor Torres,” he recited. “Please meet me at the same place as last time for dinner tonight. End of message.”

“Thanks,” Mirian said, and gave the boy the customary coral beadcoin tip. When he’d left, she turned to Lily and said, “Sorry, I really need to talk to her.”

“Yeah… I guess it’s probably important. Hope it goes well.”

Torres hadn’t asked her to bring her notebook or anything, but Mirian packed her spellrod pieces, the scroll she’d taken off the spy, the glyphkeys, and her notes, just in case.

Upon her arrival at the diner, Mirian was once again overwhelmed by the succulent smell of cooking meat and vegetables. The waiter, upon seeing her, gestured for her to follow, and led her to the same table. By now the sky was darkening, dusky light painting the horizon in shades of glowing gray, so the view now was more of silhouettes and distant glyph lamps. The warm light of the porch made it seem more like an island in a sea of dark. This time, though, she noticed the faintly glowing glyphs along one of the posts in the railing, then glanced up and saw another along one of the rafters that held up the porch’s roof. Privacy spells, she realized. They didn’t entirely suppress sound coming from the area, but they did mute it considerably. Apparently she’d missed seeing them the first time. No wonder the noises of the kitchen had seemed distant.

Professor Torres was looking out at the lake. She turned when Mirian approached.

“It seems I must take your claims more seriously,” she began, demeanor serious as ever.

Mirian nodded. She wasn’t sure what to say. “Is Professor Jei okay?” she asked.

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

That made Mirian’s heart race. So it wasn’t just that Jei got extra busy or had to clean up after a break-in like Viridian. What had happened? “The students all pass around a rumor, that Professor Jei is working on a secret project. She never has office hours, no one ever saw her outside of class, so it at least made sense that she was busy. I always assumed she just… got busier.”

“Not the case, unfortunately. Do you still have that scroll?”

Good planning, Mirian, she thought to herself. She handed it over.

“The irony,” Torres said, looking it over with a sigh, “is that Song Jei would be the best one to decipher this. It’s probably using a trick of math she knows about.” She placed it on the table. “The last anyone saw of Song was two days ago, just after the exam. When she didn’t show up for the… project, there was considerable consternation. Her apartment wards were intact, but she was not there. Her usual locations turned up nothing. The guards claim no reports or sightings either, though they are investigating.”

“Captain Mandez can’t be trusted, and his subordinates are loyal to him. Well, until he runs off.”

“Yes, you said that before. I was skeptical of that too, but there are a number of suspicious things that might explain. For example, why the only person ever caught in the break-ins to the Academy was on the 1st of Solem. By you, wasn’t it? I surreptitiously inquired as to what was learned from the man’s interrogation. Apparently, they have made no progress in learning anything. There has been no explanation for how he was able to acquire a set of Academy glyphkeys, but the guard I talked to also told me that aside from a lockpicking set, it was the only thing in his bag.”

“I bet he had more wands. One of the spies has a minor disguise wand. Also, they’ve been carrying around seeker-stones, the kind with glyphs that make them easy to track. They put them inside a metal mesh in the bag so they’re not detectable, but I bet they’re slipping them into people’s pockets or bags so they can follow them.”

That made Professor Torres’s eyes go wide. “Then that’s how,” she muttered. “Do you have one of them?”

Mirian grimaced. “I panicked when I found it in the bag I got off a different spy. I didn’t want them to track me, so I threw it into the gardens north of the Myrvite Ecology building.”

“Damn,” Torres said. “They’ve probably picked it up by now.”

“I waited after class to see where Professor Jei went, because I was curious. I know she doesn’t use the front door to leave. And I know there’s a network of passages under Torrviol, and connecting to Bainrose. I also know….” Mirian hesitated. But if she couldn’t trust Torres, who could she trust? She told Torres about falling asleep in Bainrose on the 2nd of Solem, and told her about the staircase, and the colossal door. “But this cycle, that spy never showed up on the night of the 2nd. The place where the door is just… it’s just a wall. I couldn’t get in.”

Her professor’s face grew grim. “Damn. Damn. Five hells. How long have they known? Damn!”

Mirian had never seen her this emotional. “So you’re part of the project too? I might… I might be able to help. This is all connected to the attack. There’s a reason Akana hits Torrviol. Viridian said it had to do with buried secrets.”

“Selkus said that? Strange. He’s not involved at all.” Torres tapped her fingers on the table, clearly agitated. “I’m quite loathe to reveal anything about the project,” she finally said. “All of us are sworn to total secrecy. But you’re right, it must explain the activity. Then why is Medius sitting on his ass? Damn that man.”

Mirian was taken aback. She hadn’t expected Torres’s curses to extend to Archmage Medius Luspire. “What can you tell me?” she asked. When Torres was still silent, she added, “I don’t know how to stop any of this yet. I still don’t know enough.”

Instead of answering her, her professor said, “May I see your progress on the spellrod?”

Mirian dug the pieces out of her satchel and laid them on the table next to the scroll. Torres took her time examining each one. “And I got combat certified, for the record. Besides, I already know it works. I killed two frost scarabites with it during the evacuation.” Killed maybe was an exaggeration. They had run off, though.

Torres said, “This is good work. You did research.”

Mirian told her the names of the books she’d been using.

The professor looked away from the brass rod and the various glyphstones laid out, toward the last light of the fading dusk. By now, the Divir Moon was shining bright, and the first stars were out. “The most logical assumption for your foreknowledge is that you’re also an Akanan spy. No,” Torres said, holding up a finger as Mirian opened her mouth to protest, “I know that doesn’t make sense. Akana Praediar also does not use spellrods. No one does in Baracuel, either. It’s considered archaic technology, prone to mistakes and high expense. You must understand, though, time travel is an extraordinary claim, and such claims require an abundance of evidence.”

“Did the presentations go like I said?”

“Almost entirely,” she said. “Again, the simple explanation is you bribed or cajoled your peers to act that way in a conspiracy. As ridiculous as that is, especially coming from a loner student like you, it’s still more plausible. And yet… I find myself wondering. The more complex the alternative explanation becomes, the less likely. I will send letters to my contacts in the Baracuel military inquiring about any military buildups on the Rift Sea. Does that satisfy you?”

Mirian breathed relief. “It does. I mean, I’d still like to know more, but it’s the attack that needs to be stopped more than anything. Somehow, I think… it has to be the reason. What can be done about Captain Mandez?”

“The Crown Bureau. Send a letter to Cairnmouth and they’ll investigate.”

“But by the time it reaches them and they send someone out… I tried sending letters to people before, but it didn’t do anything.”

Torres nodded. “The evidence is likely too circumstantial.”

“And I’m still a student. Barely an adult. Why would they trust me?”

“I certainly know how that can go.”

She did, Mirian realized. She’d been a prodigy, but certainly that hadn’t meant everyone took her seriously. “What gets people to listen?” she asked.

“A demonstration of your prowess. Letters of recommendation from people they do respect, which means making contacts. And of course, money always talks.”

Not the answer she wanted. Mirian didn’t have any ‘contacts,’ unless Lily counted. Given the limited time before the attack, it didn’t seem there was much time to establish them. Prowess though… maybe that was the key. Or knowledge. That had impressed Torres enough, hadn’t it?

“May I keep the scroll?” Torres asked. “I would be happy to present it to Crown agents, or military personnel.”

“Yeah, go ahead. I’m not going to learn Eskanar or how to break ciphers. And this cycle, I didn’t meet the person who speaks Eskanar, so.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I hope it helps.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not… I’m not sticking around for the attack this time. I don’t… I don’t want to die again. It’s… not pleasant. And none of the stuff that happens around it… well. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Understandable,” Torres said. “Now let’s enjoy a pleasant meal.”

Mirian cleared off her spellrod components, and with a single nod by Torres to the porch door, the waiter departed, bringing food out a moment later. It was served on plates with little heat-glyphs around the edges, so the food was still piping hot. The meat had been cooked to perfection, and the vegetables had been cooked in some combination of spices that made them delectable. The conversation shifted to artifice, and Torres gave her a few pointers both about her current design and the second spellrod she was sketching out. She even offered to give more pointers if Mirian showed up to classes early. Then they were quiet for awhile, just enjoying the night air and moonlit landscape. Dessert was a honey-glazed pastry stuffed with cream and fresh fruit—it must have come out of a greenhouse at this time of year—and Mirian devoured it in record time. Then she said her thanks and departed.

She could have pressed Torres more on the secret project and secret passages, but she was sure it wouldn’t have gotten her anywhere. At least there was a chance Torrviol might be saved. With Torres’s contacts in the military and the early warning about the airships, there could be a proper defense and evacuation of the town.

***

With four days to herself before the next quarter started, Mirian immersed herself in her various projects. She sold the three wands she’d made to a second year student in the dorms who she overheard complaining about not wanting to become an artificer before he became a battlemage, though at this point she didn’t much need the money. It was technically illegal to do that, since the wands were a weapon, but she’d seen people do it before, and what the hells were the guards going to do anyways? They were too busy covering the tracks of the Akanan spies.

She scribed several more illusion spells so she could practice those, including minor disguise and minor image. When she wasn’t practicing those, she was at the range shooting the world’s worst lightning bolts at a warded dummy or working on the spellrod. One of the shop stewards was impressed by the work she was doing and showed her a few pointers to keep the gold wire more streamlined and the brass fittings tighter. By Fifthday, the rod was finished, and she celebrated by eviscerating the practice dummy.

The second spellrod she was envisioning simply wasn’t going to be complete in time. Her knowledge of illusion spells was too inadequate, and she hadn’t designed any item with a mental component before. This led her back to Bainrose because the technique the textbook was teaching her seemed to violate one of the mana transformation equations she’d learned in alchemistry, and it seemed the major image illusion spell she wanted to use would be far more mana hungry than it needed to be. Something about adding a mental component required a lot more mana consumption, but she couldn’t figure out why. Arcane Physics had taught her there should still be conservation of energy—it had to become something. But none of the textbooks explained why. Frustrated, she resolved to ask Professor Endresen when she met her on Firstday when the quarter began.

She went back to looking for more about the passages under Torrviol. Plenty of books mentioned them. One was an archeology book that mentioned that the old sewer system of the ancient city was largely intact, but flooding, fires, and some thousand years of weathering had buried it. They also mentioned that most of the larger buildings were built on top of ruins, using the stone as foundation. In some cases, the ruins had been incorporated into the building, so some basements were still basically made of the ancient structure. Other archeology books discussed the same thing, but none of them had any maps or details, or information on how to enter it. When she asked the librarian on duty, he said, “Oh, those books were removed quite a few years back. Too many first year students died from getting lost or stuck underground. Why are you interested?”

Mirian made up something about how she’d always been fascinated by architecture.

The librarian thought about that, then recommended a book on the subject. Mirian said her thanks, then absconded before the man started talking to her about it and realized she was full of it. The architecture book talked about the practical challenges that came from building on top of old structures, and how careful assessment was necessary. It was mostly boring—but it did drop a very interesting tidbit. The author recommended something called ‘delving spells,’ which was a category she vaguely remembered Professor Holvatti talking about as used in geology. It seemed she could use them to detect how thick a wall was, what it was made of, pierce illusion spells, and find hidden caverns. Well, if it could find caves, it could find buried hallways, couldn’t it?

She found a book titled The Construction of Delving Spells in Spellbooks and Simple Artifice and checked it out. It seemed to have all the recipes and spells she would need. If Torres wouldn’t tell her, she’d find the secrets of the Academy herself.