Part 1: The Aethometer, Revealed

Part 1: The Aethometer, Revealed

Today, Arcus was visiting the Magician’s Guild with Craib, Noah, and Cazzy. They were here regarding the aethometer; it was finally time for its official unveiling, and it was to be announced at the Guild itself.

That being said, the announcement would be limited to a very select few. The meeting could almost be considered secret, with only a number of state magicians, medical luminaries, generals, and important military figures in attendance. There was a good reason for keeping the meeting so small, and that was to do with the aethometer’s inherent nature.

One of the biggest advantages of the device was its potential to increase the pace of magical acquisition, which could lead to an explosion of powerful magicians in a very short span. This potential would have a direct influence on military affairs. Not only would this boom of powerful magicians create more might for the armed forces to make use of, but those already in the army would benefit from the aethometer as well.

This was also why unveiling the aethometer on a grand scale was risky. Assuming its existence became common knowledge, the device could easily leak to foreign powers, meaning Lainur would not be the only country to reap the benefits. Even if it was just a matter of time before rumors spread anyway, it was paramount that the kingdom treat it like any other secret weapon; the overwhelming advantage it offered would only last as long as its mystique.

The representatives had gathered in the Guild’s Blue Room. The room was reserved for large meetings and high-priority gatherings of state magicians. The room was long, narrow, and windowless. The embroidered carpet was bright red. Tapestries hung from the ceiling. The abundant pillars were hung with the royal family’s flag. In the very center of the room was a glass, C-shaped table, with nameplates set at each seat.

All in all, it was everything a meeting room should be, with the flair of a medieval European castle to boot. The state magicians and military leaders who Godwald and Craib had summoned were already in their seats. In less clandestine circumstances they would have called on the heads of more military families. Purce Cremelia was present, but Joshua Raytheft was not, which was likely a decision made by Godwald and Craib.

It took ages, but I finally made it...

Arcus was waiting to speak, partitioned off in a small space in the room and trembling in joyful anticipation. It had taken two whole years to get to this announcement. Two years of finalizing and fine-tuning his invention, and acquiring the means to mass produce it. His age played no small part in the timing, and while he knew that it was important to unveil it at the right time, two years was not an insignificant wait for a child.

“Nervous? You’re shakin’ like a leaf,” Craib, who was waiting with Arcus, said.

“Yeah, I mean... look at where we are.”

“You need not be nervous, Arcus Raytheft,” Godwald chipped in from behind him, his expression as grim as ever. “Should anything go wrong, we are here to step in.”

“Th-Thank you, Guildmaster.”

“Though it’s not like we know as much about your invention as you do,” Craib added.

“Indeed,” Godwald said with a small smile.

Despite their attempts to calm him, Arcus was unable to feel completely at ease. He was about to address Lainur’s highest authority figures. Anybody with even an ounce of respect for them would feel nervous. Craib and Godwald, of course, were exceptions.

“These are not the type of people you need to be nervous around,” Godwald said.

“Yeah, just look at ’em.”

At Craib’s encouragement, Arcus peered around the side of the partition. Everyone in the room was currently enjoying themselves and partaking in high-spirited conversation. Only the military leaders were quiet, presumably because they knew this announcement was magic-related, and therefore decided it didn’t directly concern them. The magicians, on the other hand, were brimming with excitement as they chattered earnestly among themselves. Arcus studied them one by one.

There was a slender man who looked equally likely to be fifteen or forty; an elegant, elderly gentleman dressed to the absolute nines; a magician who busied himself by playing with the walnuts on the table as he leaned back in his chair, hardly seeming to care where he was; a woman with long bangs clad in a white dress; and a young girl who was the spitting image of a stereotypical witch, hat and all.

Arcus pricked his ears to see if he could pick up any interesting tidbits of conversation.

The walnut magician let out a deep sigh. “I can’t be assed with this...”

Whoever he was, he had quite a nerve to be speaking like that in a place filled with so many important people. Quite aside from his words, even his tone of voice gave off a clear message that he didn’t want to be there.

The witch in the high-peaked hat sitting across from him glared at him. “Why did you attend if you would rather be somewhere else?”

“Crucible asked me, that’s why. It was easier to come than to argue with him.”

“Really, it shouldn’t matter who invited you. We have a duty to attend these meetings. I cannot understand why you wouldn’t be excited about this, either.”

The walnut magician’s expression hardened. “I had to give up something incredibly important to be here, y’know.”

“And what would that be?”

“Sleep.”

“Oh, you are awful!” The witch glared coldly at him.

Meanwhile, the magician in the white dress was speaking to the man sitting at the head of the table.

“Have you heard anything about today’s presentation, Roheim?”

“I have. The Guildmaster explained it to me in great detail.”

“And?”

“Well, listen to the presentation, and you shall see for yourself.”

“O-Oh, of course. Please excuse me.” Clearly, she felt he was chastising her for being too impatient. She bowed her head several times in apology.

“No need to apologize,” Roheim responded. Apparently he didn’t mean to criticize her.

The walnut magician smiled suggestively at Roheim. “You sure you just don’t know yourself, Master Waterwheel?”

Roheim chuckled, neither confirming nor denying his question.

“Hey, don’t just laugh! I wanna know!”

“Waterwheel, if I may. I believe he is trying to get the information from you so that he might leave before the presentation.”

“Yeah, ’course I am.”

“Is that right, Frederick? Well, please be assured that you would regret sitting this one out.”

“Ugh...”

Despite his attitude, even he didn’t dare to speak back to his superiors.

The older gentleman sitting opposite Roheim spoke up. “From your words, I gather the presentation we are due to witness is not to be sniffed at.”

“Indeed, although I’m surprised the Guildmaster hasn’t already told you all about it, Gastarque.”

“I’ve been busy planning our new stronghold, not to mention training up my disciple. I didn’t have the time to ask him.” Gastarque turned to the general sitting next to him, Purce Cremelia. “How about you, Count Cremelia? Heard anything? You are fairly close to Mr. Abend, aren’t you?”

“Nothing this time, I’m afraid, My Lord.”

“Is that so? It would appear that anything substantive regarding this project is being kept closely guarded.”

“Oh?”

“Information like this spreads very easily through the routes the researchers use to procure their materials or consult their documents, or through the state magicians they ask to assist them. Yet in this case, nobody even knows who will be presenting; whoever it is has been very careful to circulate the information to a small and tight-lipped circle.”

Purce and the other generals let out a hum of admiration at Gastarque’s deduction.

Roheim looked back at him. “I have heard that the project in question was not Craib’s.”

“What? But he’s the one who called us here.”

“What could this mean?”

“It shan’t be long until you all find out. From the looks of things, the presentation is ready.”

The Guildmaster stepped out onto the stage, and all at once the curious magicians fell silent. Reaching the center of the stage, he began to address the members in front of him, his voice as stern as ever.

“Thank you very much for taking the time out of your busy schedules to join us today.” The Guildmaster swept his gaze over the crowd, leaving a highly-charged tension in its wake.

This man was the leader of the state magicians, and even the generals respected his authority. The only people in the room who weren’t shrinking back were Gastarque, Roheim, and Purce, who looked to be the eldest among the military representatives.

Aside from them, there was someone who reacted very differently. It was the young witch in the robe and hat. Arcus studied her closely, his curiosity piqued.

“That is Mercuria String,” Noah whispered in his ear, noticing his confusion. “I understand what you might be thinking, but she is actually in her late twenties.”

For whatever reason, Mercuria was burying her face in her hands.

Godwald cleared his throat. “Mercuria? What is the matter?”

“I’m sorry, sir! Your face is just too terrifying! I cannot bear to look at it!”

Arcus felt a prick of pity in his chest for the poor Guildmaster. Godwald waited patiently until Mercuria slowly began to peer out from under her fingers.

“C-Can I look now, sir?”

“Yes. Don’t worry, I shan’t look your way anymore,” Godwald lied, staring right at her.

Mercuria, however, seemed to believe him, and removed her hands from her face... before swiftly flying into a panic.

“A-Ah! S-S-Sir! You deceived me! You’re looking right at me!”

“Simply seeing my face should not fill you with despair!” Godwald snapped.

“Eeeek! I’m sorry, sir! I’m so sorry! Please! Spare my life!” Mercuria wailed.

Arcus thought back to the last time they visited the Guild. It seemed there were a lot of people who decided the Guildmaster was after their blood. Perhaps he had a very dark past Arcus wasn’t aware of. It wasn’t too hard to imagine, given the scar on his face.

“Good show as always, sir,” Gastarque said. “Your very existence strikes fear into the hearts of even us state magicians.”

“That... wasn’t...” Godwald’s eyebrow twitched.

Once he somehow managed to finish up his address, Arcus took to the stage alongside Craib. His uncle was acting as his guardian today, with Noah and Cazzy as Arcus’s assistants.

The crowd couldn’t disguise its surprise at the sudden appearance of a child and his two unconventional attendants. Craib was the first to speak once everyone was in position.

“I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to be here today.”

It took Arcus a split second to realize those words really had come from his uncle, and no one else. He didn’t know Craib was capable of being so polite, given how blunt he usually was. Undoubtedly it was to do with the number of people in the audience who outranked him. He recalled the last time Craib and Purce met; Craib had surprised Arcus the same way.

Once Craib finished speaking, the walnut magician opened his mouth. “Hey, Crucible! Could ya try and keep things short today? I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t you and the Guildmaster who summoned us.”

“Huh? Who’dya think you are? You saying if Gastarque or Roheim called you here, you’d have skipped?” Craib asked.

“What? Uh, no, I didn’t...” he glanced at the two older magicians, a stream of flustered excuses gushing from his mouth.

Roheim raised a finger in the air. “Don’t worry, Frederick. Every generation of state magicians has its troublemaker. You’ve always been difficult to deal with, and we are very much used to it.”

“U-Uh... Um...”

“Look at you, stumbling over your words,” Mercuria said.

“Shut your mouth,” Frederick grumbled.

“Hold on a second, Roheim,” Craib chimed in. “If every generation has a troublemaker, who was ours?”

“I am sure I do not need to answer that question.”

At that, every head in the room turned to look at Craib. It seemed the rumors were true. Roheim started to chuckle, leaving Craib with a very uncomfortable look on his face. Since he wasn’t speaking back, Arcus guessed that Roheim was also one of his superiors, just like Godwald.

Craib cleared his throat before sweeping his gaze over the room. “Alicia’s not here for obvious reasons, but has anybody heard from Renault or Cassim?”

It was Godwald who answered his question. “I’m having Renault keep an eye on the south, and His Majesty has asked Cassim to keep watch over Alicia.”

“Right. I was hoping everyone would be here, but I guess we’ll just put it down to bad luck.”

“Bad luck?” Roheim asked quietly with a raised eyebrow.

“The worst of luck. I can see Renault throwing a fit when he realizes what he missed.”

“Renault? Throwing a fit? Are we thinking of the same man?”

“That’s exactly how big this announcement is.”

Gastarque watched their exchange with great amusement. Arcus meanwhile, couldn’t help but frown. Craib implied there were three magicians missing tonight, but even counting those three, the numbers didn’t add up.

“Noah,” he whispered, “there are twelve state magicians, right, including Alicia Rotterbell? But that means there are more than just three missing, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed. The remaining two, however, come from and reside in different kingdoms. Twisted Karma, or Shurelia Rimaleon, is a general of Sapphireberg, one of Lainur’s allied nations. Swift Wind, better known as His Majesty Al Ritsuellie Baldan, is king of Zelipus, a kingdom which falls under Lainur’s jurisdiction.”

“Oh... I didn’t know Lainur appointed state magicians from different nations.”

That would explain why they weren’t in attendance. Sapphireberg was one of Lainur’s neighbors, but it was still a long way from the latter’s capital. As for the king of Zelipus, it wouldn’t be a great look for you to rush off at the request of another country when you had your own country’s problems to deal with and territory to look after. Then there was the aforementioned issue of wanting to keep the aethometer a secret within Lainur’s borders...

Arcus suddenly realized that the female magician in the white dress was looking at him. “Who is that young girl with you, Craib? I’m assuming she must be related, with hair like that.”

“Indeed. She looks as though she’ll be a stunningly beautiful woman in five years or so,” Gastarque added with an unsettling chuckle.

Arcus began to tremble, but couldn’t quite pinpoint why. Perhaps it was the lecherous glint in the old man’s eye.

“Please, Gastarque, he’s my nephew.”

Frederick’s eyes widened. “‘Nephew’?! He’s a boy? A boy, with a face like that?! Or is this a wolf in sheep’s clothing-type deal?”

Meanwhile, Gastarque was completely stiff for a split second, before he righted himself. “Oh, I see. He’s a boy. Unusually pretty, for a boy. What a shame!”

The old magician wasn’t even trying to hide his disappointment. Arcus wished he would stop sobbing about it. Despite how well he was dressed, he couldn’t conceal his moral bankruptcy. If he wasn’t mistaken, the two women in the room had shifted their chairs ever so slightly away from him.

So this was the real Gastarque Rondiel, the state magician known as Fortress. He was the most famous magician in the land, and Arcus was a little disappointed to find out the true nature behind this national hero. He was a soldier from the previous king’s generation, and it was common knowledge that, without Fortress and his military exploits, Lainur would long have been absorbed by the more powerful Empire.

...But he was also a freak of the highest order.

Quickly gathering his bearings, Arcus introduced himself with a hurried bow. “My name is Arcus Raytheft. It’s a pleasure to be here.”

There was a stir throughout the room. Many of the attendees here likely knew of him as Joshua’s talentless son.

Frederick was the first to voice his confusion. “So what’s this nephew of yours doin’ here, then, Craib?”

“He’s the one givin’ the presentation, that’s why.”

“What? Really?” Frederick turned to Godwald this time.

“That’s right.” The Guildmaster nodded. He then stepped forward to stop the place descending into chaos. “Please, if I may have order. I understand you might have your doubts; however...”

Sensing what was about to happen, everybody in the Blue Room got to their feet at the Guildmaster’s words.

“In the absence of the usual chair, Renault Einfast, please allow me, Godwald Sylvester, to whom His Majesty has bestowed the title of Magician’s Guildmaster, to lead the oath instead.” Godwald’s deep, somber voice boomed out over the room. “First, however, we have some absentees. As mentioned already, the fifth state magician, Stronghold: Renault Einfast. The eighth state magician, Swift Wind: His Majesty, Al Ritsuellie Baldan. The tenth state magician, Twisted Karma: Shurelia Rimaleon. The eleventh state magician, Blinding Flare: Cassim Lowry. The twelfth state magician, Dry Spell: Alicia Rotterbell. The above state magicians cannot be in attendance for various reasons, and I ask for your understanding on the matter.”

Godwald paused before continuing in a loud voice.

“Please join me. For His Majesty the King!”

“For His Majesty the King!” the room echoed.

The magicians, the military leaders... Everyone in the room swore their eternal loyalty to the king in one clear voice, their hands on their hearts and their boots stomped firmly on the floor. The booming tapestry of their voices seemed to shake the entire building. Arcus felt like the gravity in the room increased tenfold.

Wh-Whoa...

Darkness seemed to overtake his vision for a split second. Lights flashed before his eyes. It didn’t take him long to realize it was an accumulation of the intense majesty of every person in the room. He looked at their faces, but not one of them looked calm any longer. They all seemed to have a bloodcurdling shadow cast over them. That included the military reps, despite their former lack of interest in this magical presentation. It fell on the young witch, who had cowered at the Guildmaster’s face; the indolent walnut magician; the lecherous national hero. Even Craib, who was standing right next to him, was not exempt.

Every face in the room was so starkly stoic, they almost gave off an air of a total disconnect from reality. Every last pair of eyes burnt with the unwavering desire to die for their king, should it come to that. Arcus didn’t need to ask them to know that everyone here was willing to sacrifice their life, not just for the king, but for their country and its honor too.

They were united by a force stronger than iron. Arcus only managed to hold on to consciousness because of how much time he spent in Craib’s overwhelming presence.

Just then, Arcus felt Noah’s face by his ear. “Are you all right, Master Arcus?”

“I-I think so. What about you?”

“More or less, although I’m having some difficulty remaining upright.”

Cazzy’s face looked gaunter by the second. “I wanna go home.”

“No.”

“You can’t.”

“I was just sayin’...” He let out a tired sigh.

Arcus could sympathize completely, but if they didn’t stand their ground now, they were essentially throwing years of hard work down the drain.

The pledge finished, Godwald moved on to the main topic. “Today’s presentation concerns the creation of a new device based on research by the eldest son of the Raytheft house, Arcus Raytheft. It has the potential to revolutionize this kingdom’s magical advancement, and so I would like you all to pay close attention.”

“Revolutionize?”

“Correct. That is what I believe.”

“Yes, but...”

“I understand you may have your doubts, but please listen to the presentation first. Arcus, could you step forward?”

“Yes, sir,” Arcus replied, stepping up onto the stand Noah prepared for him.

Though the fact that he needed a stand like this would usually irritate him, this meeting was too important for him to worry about that now.

Arcus took as deep a breath as he could, holding the air in his lungs for a moment before speaking. “Today, I would like to introduce you all to a tool that is capable of measuring aether.”

It was finally time for the first step in unveiling his invention to the entire world.

Arcus had just concluded his opening statement on the aethometer. The Blue Room was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. It wasn’t that the attendees hadn’t understood the presentation; far from it. They needed time to let the vast significance and implications of Arcus’s invention sink in.

After a long, long pause, finally the magicians began to stir.

“A-A tool which measures aether?” The magician in the white dress murmured.

“That certainly is something...” Gastarque remarked.

Next, the walnut-bearing magician came back to his senses, and he turned towards Craib.

“Hold up, hold up! Is this for real?! Crucible, this isn’t some kinda joke, right?!”

“Gimme some credit. I wouldn’t call on the most important folks in the kingdom for a joke.”

“Well, yeah, I know, but...is this...really for real?” Frederick began to mutter under his breath over and over, as though he couldn’t believe his ears.

The tiniest of smug smiles rose to Craib’s lips as he witnessed the confusion Arcus had unleashed within the Guild. “Like I said, Fred, this ain’t a joke. I mean, look, even old man Godwald’s here!”

“I-I know. But...”

“Right, so this is clearly real,” Roheim cut in. “Now, Craib, does this mean that you—no, that this nephew of yours has actually created said tool?”

Craib nodded. The next moment, the magician in the white dress was on her feet, leaning across the table. The skidding of her chair was amplified in the silent room, causing everyone to look at her. They waited patiently for her to speak, but so far her mouth was just opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.

“C-Craib,” she finally managed. “Is this... It is real, isn’t it? I mean...”

“I know it’s a shock, Muller. I get it. Just keep listening, and all’ll become clear, yeah?”

“Oh! Yes, I’m sorry... I was just...it really is a surprise.” Muller bowed her head repeatedly at every corner of the room, firing out apologies at a breakneck pace.

From the looks of things, the presentation had shocked her more than anyone else, and it seemed like Craib knew exactly why.

Craib turned his gaze back to Frederick. “Hey, Fred. Still wish you sat this one out?”

“Nope. This is way more interesting than sleep. To think I was gonna skip, huh? Feel free to praise me for workin’ up the motivation.”

“Yeah, well done. Now you just gotta keep quiet till the end, ’kay?”

“’Course.” Frederick was practically on the edge of his seat at this point.

He sat back down and straightened his back, as if to show that he wasn’t going to move an inch until the presentation was done.

“Oh, that’s right, Crucible. You must have been keeping this amazing thing under wraps all this time.”

“Well, yeah. Actually, that was Godwald’s fault.”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“I mean, it was, right? You said we should keep it quiet for a while.”

“Yes, but you needn’t make it sound like a bad thing...”

“C’mon, it’d be way nicer to have a Guildmaster who’s totally honest, right?”

“I’ll have you know I had very good reasons for suggesting we keep it quiet!”

Craib seemed to be picking on Godwald in an attempt to lighten the mood. No one was ready to point out that he was being particularly insolent to his superior, likely because they were already aware of the bond the two shared.

“Um... may I start presenting the details now?” Arcus spoke up tentatively.

At those words, Noah smoothly passed his master some documents. Aside from that, he didn’t make any move to help Arcus catch everyone’s attention. He was probably enjoying this as much as they were. The subtle twitching at the corner of his lip showed as much. Arcus doubted that he’d ever grow out of this immature streak.

Once he had Craib’s and Godwald’s permission, Arcus spoke up again.

“Noah, Cazzy, if you please.”

His servants nodded, stepping towards the magicians. Each carried a pre-prepared paper bag.

“There’s an aethometer for each magician in these bags, which my attendants will hand out to you. I would like to ask the non-magicians to pay close attention too.”

Every attendant received a manual, as well as a reference sheet with the mana required for various words and phrases. The magicians in particular wasted no time in studying the materials they received.

“What is this?”

“A wooden frame with numbers, a glass tube, and some... red liquid?”

“I haven’t seen anything like this before. Although I can’t quite see how it would work...”

Aethometers were being lightly shaken and turned upside down all around the table. However, thanks to the red liquid’s cohesive properties, it didn’t move an inch.

“The liquid inside those tubes is a specially-processed form of Sorcerer’s Silver. If you release a little aether, the colored Silver will react and expand, moving as far up the tube as the amount of aether that has been released. Please stand the device upright and try releasing some aether now.”

The magicians immediately followed his instructions as the military leaders looked on with bated breath. The next moment, the room was filled with gasps.

“Wow!”

“Oh, my!”

“Th-The liquid’s moving! A-And you say it’s in response to my aether?!”

Every magician was staring at the Sorcerer’s Silver as if nothing else in the room mattered.

“The numbers on the aethometer represent mana, the unit of measure for aether. Using psychokinesis requires ten mana. If we split the spell into its three components, it’s three plus three plus four mana, equaling ten.”

The spell’s full incantation was: “Guide the object according to my will.”

Split into three, it became “Guide,” “the object according(ly),” and “according to my will,” with the two final phrases overlapping somewhat. Each of these components cost roughly three, three, and four mana respectively.

Psychokinesis was the most basic spell around, and would be as simple as breathing for the magicians gathered here. They cast it one by one, each aethometer showing the exact same result. The magicians eagerly began to compare their aethometers to the mana guides in front of them.

One of the military leaders leaned forward to speak to Muller. “Madame Quint? Does the tool match up with what it says on that paper there?”

“Yes, indeed it does. It’s a perfect match.” Muller showed the aethometer and paper to him.

“You’re right...”

Arcus looked at the rest of the magicians. It looked like they were done explaining to their neighbors, too. Even Frederick was leaning back in his chair like before, though he seemed to be in a daze of astonishment.

“Maybe I really am sleepin’, and this is all a crazy dream...”

“Come on now, if this were a dream you’d have woken up from the shock. Although you’d likely have gone straight back to sleep,” Mercuria said.

“I guess.”

The magicians were still playing around with their aethometers, looking even more surprised with each consistent result.

“What do you think?” Arcus asked, once the magicians finally started to calm down. “I’d be happy to answer any questions.”

Roheim put his hand up in the air. “Arcus, was it? I’m afraid I have several questions—is that all right?”

“Ask as many as you like.”

Noah leaned in to whisper in Arcus’s ear and remind him that this was Roheim Langula, the state magician known as Waterwheel.

“I know it was already in your explanation, but could you tell us again about this liquid?”

“Certainly. This is ordinary Sorcerer’s Silver, which has been specially processed and colored with cinnabar. I have yet to give it a name.”

“Understood. And from what distance is this tool—this aethometer—effective?”

“From around three to six-and-a-half feet. Any further than that, and although it is likely to detect aether, it will not guarantee an accurate reading.”

“In other words, it could not be used for detecting aether.”

“That is correct.”

“Equally, one of these could not be used dishonestly to learn how much aether is required for another magician’s spells,” Roheim said. “What about measuring aether in continuous increments?”

“I could not recommend that, either. It takes a while for the Silver to react, so it would be difficult to measure a single spell all at once. You would get a much more accurate reading by breaking a spell down into its components and measuring each one by one.”

The aethometer was slow, and the Silver needed time to expand and contract. It would be difficult to keep track of if you were trying to feed it too much information at once. It wasn’t like a speedometer, scales, or indeed a traditional thermometer, which could react in an instant. Although the aethometer was sensitive, it was also still rather primitive.

Arcus had toyed with ideas to fix this issue, such as introducing a new metal into the mix, but the man’s memories proved to hold very few solutions so far.

“So you must take your time in relaying each part of a spell to it. There aren’t many situations where you would need to measure a lot of aether in a short space of time, so I suppose that’s not an issue. Hmm...” Roheim paused. “Can this special Sorcerer’s Silver react to anything other than aether?”

“Not that we know of, no, but we have looked into it. The Silver has been processed twice, so it shouldn’t be affected by heat or humidity, either.”

“Does the Silver degrade at all? And what about the other materials? Would that lead to inconsistent measurements?”

“We’re still studying the Silver itself, but the tube is made of glass, so we can assume that it will deform when cooled or heated rapidly.”

“Oh?” A light frown appeared on Roheim’s brow.

Arcus still wasn’t sure how knowledgeable this world was about the concept of temperature, particularly freezing point. Magicians knew about ice, of course, or they couldn’t use it in their spells, but Arcus was wary of speaking in terms specific to the man’s world.

The magicians were taking rapid notes, so perhaps Arcus had introduced them to a new concept.

“What I mean to say is that, yes, the tool can lose accuracy as a result of its materials degrading. Glass can expand or contract due to rapid temperature changes, and it can also degrade over time. These situations would cause the aethometer to lose accuracy.”

Arcus was talking about the phenomenon that occurred when glass is heated to a high temperature before being cooled rapidly. In a thermometer’s case, the heat would cause the glass to expand, but the difference in temperature from the cooling would be too great for it to return to its original form, increasing its volume temporarily. Where the mercury inside would usually have accurately measured zero degrees, with the extra volume, it would actually show below zero at the same temperature—a false measurement. In turn, every measurement would show up slightly lower than it actually was.

An opposite effect was also possible. This was something that occurred over a long period of time after the thermometer’s production. As time went by, the glass would begin to shrink, slowly decreasing its volume and the amount of mercury it could hold. This would end up putting pressure on the mercury and pushing it up, causing the thermometer to display a higher temperature than it actually was.

As long as the aethometer was made of glass, it was in danger of falling victim to these twin phenomena.

“In other words, we cannot expect it to remain accurate forever.”

“That’s right. We’re still looking into how long it can measure accurately for, and so far we’ve found that it stays accurate for a year at the very least.”

“Should we be storing these in any particular way?”

“There are cases where the Silver has remained expanded if it received a shock during use or was stored at an improper angle for too long. I would recommend storing it as upright as possible.”

“I see. May I ask just one more question?” Roheim said. “What exactly is it about the aether that allows this device to measure it?”

This was it: the most vital part of the aethometer’s inner workings. Arcus was expecting someone to ask him that very question. Unlike other measuring tools, the aethometer did not measure things directly. It wasn’t like a pair of scales, which directly compared weights, nor a newton meter, which worked with a spring. It wasn’t so much measuring the amount of aether as it was its value.

It was obvious when you considered the aethometer’s roots. Temperature could not be measured in amounts, either. It held no physical weight. At the same time, to say that the aethometer measured how much aether was released was not entirely wrong.

“The aethometer measures how much pressure the released aether creates, which comes in the form of waves.”

There was a stir among the magicians. The military leaders, meanwhile, had lost track a while ago.

This continued for a while before Roheim opened his mouth again. “Understood. Simply put, this liquid expands in response to the aether released, meaning that these numbers represent how much aether there is, correct?”

“That’s right.”

Roheim studied his aethometer thoughtfully. Despite what he said about his question being the last, Arcus was sure he would come up with more. Arcus tried to anticipate what these questions might be.

If this were a thermometer, he’d probably be asked about using it in liquids. When a thermometer was placed partway into a liquid, it would read the temperature from both the liquid and the air around the exposed part at the same time, leading to an inaccurate measurement. Since the aethometer only measured pressure and waves, it wasn’t vulnerable to this kind of problem.

Arcus was readying himself for Roheim to throw him a curveball, but instead the state magician raised his aethometer up to the Sol Glasses in the ceiling and gazed at it, a twinkle of deep admiration in his eyes.

“It seems so obvious now that it’s been invented. If only we dug a little deeper, perhaps we would have noticed the absence of such a useful tool before.” He sighed. “This is a wonderful invention.”

He had the air of a man who had at long last achieved his dream after many, many years of trying. This time, the military leaders began to stir.

“Look! Even Roheim’s impressed!”

“This must really be something, then!”

Even if they couldn’t follow Arcus’s explanation completely, seeing one of the top state magicians express his admiration made them realize the gravity of the invention.

Suddenly, one of the generals spoke. “Can I ask something?”

“Of course,” Arcus replied.

“There should be research on this sort of thing already. So why has no one come up with a way to measure aether before?”

“Um...”

As Arcus hesitated, Roheim raised a finger. “Allow me to explain. In the past, there have been several forays into measuring aether. For example, a previous study relied on using aether to push up water in a container and comparing it to a measure. However, due to varying amounts of excess aether getting mixed up in the air and surrounding water, the results were never consistent. Unable to overcome this hurdle, research on measuring aether has been stuck ever since.”

“I-I see.” The general nodded.

Another general turned to Muller. “So, what exactly does this mean?”

“Until now, magicians had to rely on their intuition to determine how much aether was needed for each word and phrase in their incantations. With this, we will be able to determine the needed amount accurately and objectively. This will make mastering magic several times... no, at least ten times faster!”

“It’s that amazing?”

“It’ll also make switching between troops on the battlefield that much easier, as the magicians in the field will no longer have to work out or remember how much aether they need to cast their spells.”

“It also means that it will be easier to pass down spells to the next generation. Very handy for someone like me, who’s already got one foot in the grave.”

“I’m hoping, Gastarque, that you will still be able to serve this country for many years to come. You are one of our best magicians.”

“You’d think I would have done enough to earn my retirement by now,” Gastarque replied with a gentle smile.

“With this,” Mercuria burst out suddenly, “the very nature of magic has changed! The Guildmaster was right! This is revolutionary! It’s a masterpiece!”

The magicians were overcome with excitement, just as Craib, Noah, and Godwald had been when they had first laid eyes on the aethometer. They were like children on a field trip, while the military generals discussed the usefulness of this new invention among themselves.

“What sort of effects do you think this will have on the future of magical technologies, Roheim?”

“Now that we have a way of measuring aether, we will be able to standardize all forms of magical advancements. All sorts of output, from human resources to production, will become more efficient and therefore accelerated.”

“Yes, yes! It will help those magicians who struggle with controlling their magic, and allow us to train many more to enter our military forces! Our national and military strength will be through the roof!”

“Really?!”

“Yes,” Roheim confirmed. “I have no doubt.”

With the mention of military power, the generals were finally starting to understand the aethometer’s full potential. Only now were they beginning to look really interested.

Just then, Arcus noticed Muller drawing back slightly, her gaze slightly downcast under her long bangs. On closer inspection, she was trembling. Whether from surprise, excitement, or pure emotion, Arcus couldn’t tell, but she was clearly having trouble suppressing her delight.

“This will do absolute wonders for the medical sector. Treating wounds has always required a very even distribution of aether and a level of control that very few magicians are capable of. But with this, so many more could learn to be healers... and so many people will be saved because of it.”

Muller must have worked in the medical sector. If that was the case, Arcus could well understand how excited she must have been. He himself had already considered how helpful his invention would be in healing people, although it admittedly wasn’t one of the first uses that crossed his mind.

Suddenly, Muller leapt to her feet. “You... You have invented something truly wonderful, young man!”

“Th-Thank you!”

“Please allow me to thank you on behalf of the entire medical sector! The very announcement of your device has already removed one of the greatest roadblocks in magical medicine!”

“N-No, I am grateful that you are here!” Arcus replied, not knowing what else to say.

It was likely a habit he picked up from his dream: the habit to say thank you or apologize, often for no reason at all. It usually resulted in a long back-and-forth of sorries and thank yous.

“When are you gonna start selling these doodads?” Frederick asked.

“Come on. You just want him to tell you you’re allowed to take it home with you.”

“Well, yeah. I wanna give this baby a spin soon as I can.”

“This isn’t something that can be sold. It’s far too precious for that.”

“Yes, yes! With something as powerful as this, the king could lose his head!”

“The aethometers I have handed out are yours to keep,” Arcus cut in.

“You mean it?!”

“Yes. I even have a spare for each of you, in case your aethometers become inaccurate due to the factors I spoke about before.”

“You gotta be yanking my chain! Don’t come crying to me later if you’re kidding right now and I’ve already taken it with me!”

“I am being completely serious. Please, everyone, feel free to take it with you.”

The magicians broke out into cheers at the unexpected, but extremely welcome, development.

“I must warn you now that any attempt to sell it on the black market, or any instances of your aethometer going ‘missing,’ will result in severe punishment. Please look after them very, very carefully,” Godwald added in his booming voice.

Of course, every person here was hand-picked precisely because they would not do that sort of thing, but that didn’t stop him from giving the warning.

“How many of these can you make?” This time, the generals were asking the questions.

“Good point. It doesn’t look too complex, so we’ll have them in the military soon, right?”

“It’ll be good if we can get some of these to the nobles at the borders, too.”

“I’m sure His Majesty’d have something to say about that! He’ll want to see anyone who requests one of these to make sure they won’t abuse it!”

Aside from the national armed forces, several nobles kept their own private militaries. For the most part, they answered only to those nobles, making them risky candidates for handing over aethometers.

“In that case, we should prioritize the national army!”

“No!” Muller objected. “We should prioritize the medical sector!”

“Yes, medicine is important too, but we are talking about national security over here!”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot agree! Do not forget that this would help tend to injured soldiers as well!”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Please, General Ruedmann, try and understand my position!”

Arcus wasn’t surprised to see a fight breaking out between the magicians and the military.

“May I say something?” he said.

“Hm? What is it?”

“The Guild is already in possession of five hundred aethometers, each complete with a manual.”

“F-Five hundred?!”

Both the general and Muller gawked at him.

“Plenty to go around, then,” Roheim said. “I’m happy to see you planned for this.”

“Does this mean our troops will be equipped with them immediately, Guildmaster?”

“We won’t have enough for every magician, but in theory, we would be ready to send some to each unit as early as tomorrow.”

“A-And what about the hospitals?!”

“There are more than enough for them too. Of course, we must first decide how to distribute and manage the stock. Please allow us the time to do so.”

“Would you mind lending me a few, Godwald? I still have so many spells I would like to teach my sons.”

“Yes, of course.”

Gastarque held a long catalog of spells that only he fully understood, and it was in the best interests of the kingdom that he passed them down.

The old magician looked back at Arcus. “I never thought something like this would end up quashing one of my fears so perfectly. Arcus, young man, though I may not be around much longer, please keep my eternal gratitude close to your heart.”

“Y-Yes, sir,” Arcus replied a little stiffly.

Having one of the kingdom’s heroes remember his name almost floored him... even if he did have a dubious side.

“By the way, Crucible,” Frederick said, “y’sure it wasn’t actually you who made this?”

“What, you don’t believe me?”

“I mean...this kid looks like he’s barely out of his diapers. I’m surprised no one else thinks it’s fishy.”

“Look, I could never have come up with somethin’ like this. All I did was give ’im a couple of suggestions for the design around... oh, two years back.”

“H-How many?!”

“When he was eight... or even seven?!”

Astonishment rippled through the attendees. Having a ten-year-old come up with an invention like the aethometer was surprising enough, but this new knowledge dealt yet another blow.

Roheim, however, remained perfectly calm. “If this tool was in development two years ago, why did it take so long to announce?”

“The production of the aethometer is relatively unique, and there was a lot of data left to collect about its use. We had to be sure that there were no discrepancies in how two different aethometers measured aether. I didn’t want to announce the aethometer until every last model was perfect.” Arcus paused. “If they were going to be passed over to the medical sector, there could be no room for inaccuracy. These factors combined meant it took years to get to this point.”

“I see. Well, you’ve certainly thought this all through,” Roheim said.

Roheim had no idea. Those two years of calibration testing had caused Arcus no end of grief. The entire batch of aethometers had to be scrapped entirely several times over; the manufacturing costs nearly drove Craib to bankruptcy.

“And...” Arcus continued.

“And?”

“My uncle, Craib, said that everyone was going to want one, so we should be ready to meet demand as soon as we announced it.”

“Makes sense.”

“Naturally.”

“Yes, yes!”

At least they were admitting to it. Just like Craib and Noah, these magicians were eager to refine their art. He could see them holing themselves up in their houses with their aethometers for days, if not weeks, on end.

Eventually, Godwald decided it was time to bring the meeting to a close.

“Although we have yet to determine when the aethometer will be officially announced to the world, Arcus will be named as its creator. I trust there are no objections?”

The room responded with silence. Arcus couldn’t imagine why anybody might object, but he still found himself breathing a sigh of relief. It would be a long time before the public unveiling anyway.

“The Magician’s Guild shall pay for the manufacture of the aethometer and provide Arcus a monetary award for his invention. Any objections?” Godwald waited, but nobody said anything. “Then it’s settled.”

“Godwald, what about awarding him an order?” Gastarque asked.

“That is a decision to be made by His Majesty. I shall be allowed an audience at the palace in due time.”

“In that case, perhaps I shall pay a visit to His Majesty too, hopefully before I’m in my grave.”

“Me too,” Roheim added.

Arcus felt a pat on his back, and he looked up to see his uncle smiling warmly at him.

“Look at you. You just got the top three state magicians on your side.”

“Yeah...”

Arcus felt warmth spreading through him. Orders were serious business. Even Arcus hadn’t expected this much.

“We done yet?” Frederick asked suddenly, inviting a round of exasperated sighs from his compatriots.

The end of the meeting didn’t mean the end of the questions.

“How many aethometers can you make in a month?”

“Will you prioritize state magicians in the distribution?”

“Will you make them available to the Royal Institute of Magic? If so, when?”

“I’ll probably be asking for some custom-made ones soon, so look out for that!”

“I would like you to come and guide us on how to use them with patients!”

...And many more. Around halfway through, the questions started to transform into “polite requests.” Not that Arcus was surprised. He received questions about the “processing” of the Sorcerer’s Silver too, but he wasn’t ready to reveal the existence of tempered aether. There was still too much he wanted to research about the phenomenon. Tempered aether itself wasn’t suited to casting spells, but seals were a different story. Arcus was sure it had potential.

He didn’t know when or how it might come to his advantage in the future, and so he didn’t want to announce it until he was absolutely ready. Tempered aether was instrumental in producing the aethometer, too, so any new aethometers would have to wait until he announced its existence, as long as he didn’t want to be making them all by himself.

It was magician’s etiquette to respect the secrets of other magic users, so Arcus didn’t have too much trouble deflecting the questions he didn’t want to answer.

After that, there were discussions about the aethometer’s use in the military and medical sector. It wasn’t necessary for Arcus to be present for these, though, so he left those matters to Godwald and Craib, and exited the meeting room.

The second he opened the door, he heard voices behind him.

“Truly astounding. Noble or not, it’s a wonder he can speak so comfortably in an environment like this.”

“He’s only ten, isn’t he? I have a nephew around the same age, but I couldn’t imagine him standing up there!”

“Did you see how he answered Roheim’s questions, too?”

“Who in their right mind would disinherit a boy like that? I just don’t understand what some of these magical folks are thinking sometimes.”

“I believe Your Lordship mentioned that those rumors concerning him were completely unfounded.”

“Well, yes, although I only discovered that myself recently.”

“His Majesty will take a great interest in him. Your Lordship is so lucky to be acquainted with such an intelligent young magician!”

The generals were full of admiration for Arcus.

“Arcus spoke wonderfully!”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand how anybody would call him talentless. It makes no sense!”

“This sort of thing would be difficult enough for an adult to deal with.”

From the magicians’ conversation, Arcus wouldn’t be surprised if he was the first magician with no history whatsoever to come out with research like this. Normally, you would probably have to be a state magician, or a magician who was already famous and had a long list of previous achievements.

If he weren’t already related to a state magician, Arcus would have had a lot more trouble getting to this point, even if the production of the aethometer went smoothly. His mind was caught up in what could have been, when he suddenly heard excited footsteps rushing up to him.

“Hey, kid! Thanks so much! I’m gonna use this thing right away!”

“Oh, um. You’re welcome.”

It was Frederick, the state magician with a fondness for walnuts. Arcus gathered a polite response as quickly as he could, but the moment the words were out of his mouth, Frederick had already waved and rushed off again.

It was clear he cared more about using the aethometer than having a conversation with its young creator. Arcus couldn’t blame him.

“One minute he’s whining about losing out on sleep, the next he’s rushing around like a headless chicken.”

Arcus heard somebody sigh behind him. He turned around to find Mercuria String standing there. He recognized her from the witch’s hat she wore low over her face. Her hair was brown, and her eyes russet, a common combination within the kingdom. Despite looking like she was in her mid-teens, she was quite a bit taller than Arcus.

Arcus opened his mouth to thank her for attending, but she raised a hand to stop him. Apparently, she didn’t value that sort of thing particularly highly.

Mercuria turned to Noah. “Noah. It is good to see you again.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Mercuria.” Noah bowed his head.

Despite the formality of their words, there was a friendly warmth within them.

“Do you know each other?” Arcus asked Noah.

“Noah was my first student after I started lecturing.” It was Mercuria who answered.

“Indeed. She taught me a great deal.”

“Oh, please! You’re making me blush!”

“But you did teach me a great deal. That was your job.”

“Oh, but you make it sound like such a big thing!”

“It wasn’t. You are a teacher; it was your job. Although I am grateful, of course...”

“You know, you really need to learn a thing or two about manners!” Mercuria glared at him. Then she sighed. “Though I suppose it was my fault for expecting you to have changed.”

So he was always like this...

“I see you are serving Arcus Raytheft now and not Crucible?”

“Correct. Craib handed me over to him to help with the aethometer’s development. It has been a very interesting couple of years.”

“I can imagine. You are serving the mind that came up with such a fantastic idea, after all.”

“The same mind who got himself sent to the Holy Tower,” Noah added.

“The Holy Tower?”

“Yes.”

“Oh...” Suddenly, Mercuria’s eyes widened. “W-Wait! Were you the one who escaped?! Do you know how much trouble you caused?! How on earth did you manage to end up there?!”

“Now, now. Please remember that Master Arcus was just another one of Marquess Gaston’s victims. He was an incredibly wicked man.” Noah let out a pained sigh and dabbed at the corners of his eyes with a handkerchief.

Mercuria didn’t fall for his theatrics, and was now hopping around on the spot angrily. “A victim, you say?! How did you escape in the first place?! We had to put extra measures in place to make sure it would never happen again, you know!”

“I’m afraid I cannot disclose my master’s secrets.”

“Grr! That’s cowardly!”

“Cowardly and effective.” Noah bowed his head.

Mercuria could do nothing but let out another sigh and glare at him before turning to Arcus. “He may look like a perfect gentleman, but he’s stubborn as a mule. Watch out for that.”

“I know,” Arcus said.

“Yes, yes. Keep your guard up.”

Despite her passive aggressive warning, Noah was smiling.

“Now, Pinioneer. Where do you think you’re going?” Mercuria asked.

“Gah...”

Arcus followed Mercuria’s gaze to find Cazzy halfway through trying to sneak away unnoticed.

“Well?” she demanded. “Explain yourself!”

“Are the two of you acquainted?” Noah asked.

“He was in the year below me at the Institute. If you told me then he’d become a servant, I would’ve laughed in your face.”

His escape attempt thwarted, Cazzy rearranged his features into an obsequious grin. “Oh, Peacemaker! Didn’t expect to catch ya here!”

“This is a meeting for state magicians. I am a state magician. Your logic is flawed.”

“‘Peacemaker’?” Arcus said.

“His Majesty conferred Miss Mercuria’s title upon her for her research on countering foreign magicians,” Noah whispered into his ear.

So she was involved in military matters; she was much more impressive than she looked.

“I’ve heard a lot of rumors from the guards about you, Pinioneer,” she remarked. “You disappeared immediately after you left the Institute too. What on earth were you doing?”

“Oh, y’know. This ’n’ that.”

“Was ‘this and that’ to do with the marquess?”

“Might’ve been.”

Arcus wasn’t the only “victim” of the marquess, as Noah had put it.

“You know Cassim was looking for you, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

The name rang a bell. He was one of the state magicians absent from the meeting—the one they called Blinding Flare. Arcus had been surprised enough to find that Cazzy knew the Chief of the Surveillance Office, but apparently he had acquaintances among the state magicians too.

“Blinding Flare too?” Noah said. “How exactly are you acquainted with him?”

“Same as Lisa. He was with me at the Institute.”

“Pinioneer is kinder... much kinder than he looks,” Mercuria interjected. “He had a bad habit of getting under his seniors and lecturers’ skin, but his underclassmen admired his spirit. Blinding Flare was no exception. But he certainly doesn’t look kind, does he?”

“I think ya could stand to be kinder, personally speakin’,” Cazzy grumbled.

“Well, you certainly clean up well,” she added.

“That ain’t fair! They made me wear this!”

“I think it makes him look rather more suspicious. Don’t you, Master Arcus?”

“Uh...”

“Says the guy with the stupid fancy hair!”

Arcus shot a questioning glance at Mercuria, wondering if she really had run out of nice things to say about Cazzy. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case.

“Still, he was top of the class. Given that only the very best make it into the Institute, that is saying a lot. He certainly has the potential to become a state magician, even if he lacks the motivation.”

“Ya can say that again...”

“This is exactly why it is easy to get the wrong idea about you. Honestly...” Mercuria sighed.

“You really do speak to everyone like that, don’t you, Cazzy?” Arcus asked.

It was clear that Mercuria had her defenses down, but even then there was an intimidating air of majesty about her, one beyond comparison with the late Marquess Gaston’s. It was enough to strike fear in anybody’s heart, but Cazzy still seemed able to be totally casual with her.

“Eh, I guess it’s ’cause I know her. I mean, you’re the same with that old geezer, right?”

“My uncle? I s’pose, yeah. Though I think he holds back for me,” said Arcus.

If Craib let the intimidating air around him run unchecked, Arcus would likely faint from it multiple times a day—and for all he knew, the actual result might be worse than that.

“Master Arcus is likely feeling somewhat numb,” said Noah. “I was surprised he even managed to speak in a room full of state magicians, with all that majesty you give off.”

“Oh? Was it really that bad?”

“It was. Even during our time at the Institute, anybody who came near you would start trembling with nerves, student or otherwise.”

“State magicians are a symbol of the kingdom’s power. If our presence doesn’t strike fear into the hearts of others, then what good are we?” Mercuria shot a sly glance at Cazzy.

“The old geezer’s been workin’ me like a horse for the last month. So, y’know, I’m used to bein’ around grand magicians, even if it ain’t easy. Still, ya look like you’ve grown since we last met. I mean, dignity-wise, at least.”

“On the contrary, you have not grown enough. Cassim has made a lot of progress too, I’ll have you know.”

“What, that old softie?” Cazzy said, frowning.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should be heading off. I am looking forward to seeing what this aethometer can do.”

“If you have any problems with it, please feel free to contact me,” Arcus said.

“I will do so. Likewise, if you require any assistance, please do let me know. And rest assured I shall be contacting you with regards to a custom order later.” Mercuria stuck her tongue out cheekily.

Pairing her request with an offer for help was quite the shrewd move. It made sense for a woman known as a “Peacemaker,” though. She was much sharper than she looked and knew how to aim for people’s weaknesses to get what she wanted. When she spoke to Cazzy and Noah, Arcus got the impression she judged people on their appearance, but clearly that wasn’t the case.

Their conversation over, Mercuria skipped away, finally leaving Arcus free to head home. He would gladly have done so, had he not felt a familiar presence nearby. He spun around and quickly fell to one knee. Before him stood Purce Cremelia.

Purce was Charlotte’s father and a general in the armed forces; Arcus had met him during the incident with the marquess.

“At ease,” the count said. “Well, Arcus. I believe the last time we met was in the marquess’s garden.”

“It is good to see you again, My Lord. Many thanks for attending the presentation.”

“That aethometer is a fine invention you’ve been hiding up your sleeve, young man. I am not a magician myself, so take this with a grain of salt, but I can see it contributing greatly to our kingdom’s advancement.”

“As a magician, nothing would please me more, My Lord.”

“I do, of course, have a number of magicians within my forces. It can be difficult to organize them into companies sometimes, but I believe your tool will make the task much easier.”

“It is an honor, My Lord.”

“Your invention is a boon to the kingdom and the royal family. You should be very proud.”

“I could not have done it without the help of my uncle.”

“If you plan on being modest, my boy, you might wish to stop smiling so much.”

“Ah, um...”

The count let out a hearty chuckle. As far as Arcus was aware, it was only the corners of his mouth which were twitching, but Cremelia had seen right through him. His pride exposed, Arcus fixated his gaze on the floor, embarrassed.

“Arcus, you have not yet told Joshua about your invention, have you?”

“No, My Lord. I don’t feel comfortable doing so.”

“I see.” The count’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He was already well aware of the circumstances surrounding Arcus’s home life. “An invention of this caliber comes with much risk, you understand. Have you already prepared yourself for what is to come?”

“Yes, My Lord. Many of my plans involve avoiding trouble wherever possible.”

“Caution will serve you well, but I would also suggest surrounding yourself with people you can trust. You do not want to find, somewhere down the line, that you have been abandoned.”

“I shall take that to heart.”

He was right—the more allies Arcus had, the better. He could have all the foresight in the world, but if he didn’t have enough people on his side to tackle the issue, he was helpless. Arcus knew, too, that the count would not be giving him this warning without reason.

“Pardon my rudeness, My Lord, but might I ask a favor?”

“What is it?”

“Your Lordship sees a lot of Joshua. When the time comes for him to find out about the aethometer, I would like to ask Your Lordship to keep its inventor a secret.”

This was Arcus’s way of protecting himself. Joshua was head of a magical family, and once the aethometer was distributed widely, it would only be a matter of time before he found out about it. If he found out Arcus was its inventor, there was no telling what he might do.

Now that the presentation was over, at least Joshua wouldn’t be able to try to take credit, but the chance of him retaliating in some way was pretty high—not to mention that he might take out his anger on Lecia.

“I could certainly keep the information to myself, but he is a powerful man. Should he look into it, I am sure he would come up with your name eventually.”

“I understand, but at the very least, Your Lordship would be buying me some time. Time enough for me to solidify my position and prepare for what he might try.”

The count looked away, and hesitated before opening his mouth again. “Arcus. Do you resent your father?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Cremelia’s eyes widened slightly, as though he hadn’t expected such a direct answer. “I suppose your aethometer would be a way to get back at him then.”

“I agree, My Lord, but I think it’s still too early for that. I don’t believe I am strong enough to allow my emotions to control me like that yet. I need to grow older, more powerful, until I can face him properly. And then I’ll...”

I’ll destroy the Raytheft house.

There was no way he could say those last words aloud. The man in front of him had the power to control every house in the east if he needed to. To give him any cause for alarm now was foolish and, quite frankly, dangerous.

“You know to hold back when your defeat is assured otherwise.”

“That’s right, My Lord.”

“It seems Joshua has made quite the tenacious enemy.” There was a glint of sadness in Cremelia’s eye, that emotion leading into his next question. “Arcus. Do you not think it tragic that a son should be at odds with his father?”

“I do, My Lord. However, I also believe that there are some conflicts which must be fought.” Arcus paused before continuing. “A boy’s father is the first hurdle he must face. For some, that struggle might be internal, but for me, my father has stood brazenly in my way for almost as long as I can remember. That’s why I must face him brazenly, too, if I wish to overcome this hurdle.”

“That certainly is an interesting way of seeing things.”

“It’s the only point of view that allows me to move forward.”

“Still, it is a sad state of affairs. To be backed into a corner like that, forcing you to think in this way,” the count murmured towards the ceiling. He paused reflectively. “Perhaps that is just the fate that awaits each Raytheft heir.”

“Fate, My Lord?”

“Oh, just speaking to myself. Forget I said anything.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Still not taking his eyes off the ceiling, Cremelia continued. “Arcus. What exactly is your goal?”

Arcus remembered having a similar conversation with Sue. His goal... Prestige? Power? Arcus had a feeling that those weren’t the answers the count was searching for.

“I do not know,” he finally replied.

“I see. Well, I cannot say I blame you. I don’t think anybody knows what they want at your age.”

Arcus didn’t know who he would become. He wasn’t sure who he wanted to become. Once he had attained a stable status and found himself employment, what next? Only when he had decided who he wanted to be would Arcus be able to answer the count’s question.

“Arcus. If all you focus on is prestige and power, you are very likely to lose your way. For the time being, you can focus on those goals, or not know what you want, but you should be prepared to come up with a solid answer sooner rather than later. Who do you want to be? As long as you keep that answer with you, you will not lose sight of your path, or even yourself.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“I shall keep quiet around Joshua, as you asked. Just remember that I cannot do much more for you than that.”

“It is already more than enough.”

Cremelia had his own position to worry about. He couldn’t justify putting Joshua at a disadvantage for Arcus’s sake. That in turn risked damaging the noble hierarchy’s stability. As a man whose job it was to unite the firepower of the martial houses below him, it was not a risk he could take. At the same time, Arcus was grateful for Cremelia’s concern, shown by the abundance of advice he received today. For that reason, Arcus considered him a true role model.

Gathering his attendants, the count left Arcus alone in the hallway. For a moment, Arcus watched his retreating back before turning himself and leaving the Magician’s Guild behind with Noah and Cazzy alongside him.

On the evening of the aethometer’s announcement, Craib Abend arrived at Lainur’s royal castle. He was received in one of the building’s many man-made gardens. Though some of the gardens were used to receive noble guests, this one was not. This was the king’s private garden. Sol Glasses lit it up like fireflies, making it look like a dreamland in the darkness of night. There were lamps which looked like antique lanterns, and pole lights illuminating a path. There were even lights embedded in the earth itself. Lights resembling bunches of grapes hung from some of the trees. Simply put, it was as well-lit as any modern garden from the man’s world. The architecture of the garden too. The light and shadow. The beauty. It was incredible, even by those standards—not to mention much more expensive, most likely.

As for the flowers, they were all the same shade of blue. The Sol Glasses illuminated them just as vividly as the sun would. In the center of the garden sat a marble gazebo with a crystal-clear glass table underneath, lit up by the light sources in the floor.

Craib had taken a knee outside that structure, prostrating himself before a certain man inside it. Like many of Lainur’s nobles, he had long, golden hair, and he looked young enough to be in his teenage years. As if the gold in his hair wasn’t enough, his jacket was embroidered by a thread of the same shade. The shirt he wore underneath was unbuttoned, leaving his chest bare. There was a wildness to his expression that made him just a touch rougher than a typical king.

This man’s name was Shinlu Crosellode: Lainur’s ruler and strongest magician. He sat on a marble throne with one leg folded over the other. One arm leaned on the arm rest, its hand supporting his chin. The ennui in his posture and expression exceeded even that of his son, Ceylan. It was only his position at the absolute top that let him get away with dressing as outrageously as he did—a sort of warning coloration, suggesting that he could get away with anything.

Craib was here to tell Shinlu of the aethometer’s existence. Its inventor was nowhere to be seen. With Arcus’s current status (or rather, his lack thereof), there would be no way he could get an audience with the king, save through a proxy of greater standing.

Shinlu picked up his wine glass from the table and sipped from it as he held up the tool that had sent the state magicians into a frenzy.

“Looks like you’ve been keeping quite the secret from me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. That is just how much potential this invention has.”

“Oh, come on, Craib. You can drop the formalities now. It’s almost creepy to hear you speak like that. Besides, there’s no one else here.”

“Sure thing.” Craib got to his feet and stepped inside the marble gazebo before flopping down in a chair opposite the king.

His actions would have been unthinkable but for the closeness of their friendship. They had bonded in the days when Shinlu would slip free of the palace grounds to wander the country in disguise. Shinlu expected this nostalgic indulgence of familiarity from Craib in private moments like this.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this thing right away, then? I hope you’ve got a good explanation, because I could always part your head from your shoulders if I felt like it.”

“You say that every time we meet. You can’t blame me, though. If I showed up with a half-baked tube in a frame that wasn’t even accurate, you’d start tellin’ me how I should improve it and stuff.”

“Of course. I’d want to take a good look at it, after all.”

Even now Shinlu was releasing his aether, carefully checking how the aethometer reacted. If Craib brought it to him before it was ready, the king would only find that it fell short of his standards and scold Craib for getting his hopes up.

“Also, you’d already be tellin’ us what we had to do with it next before it was even finished.”

“Naturally. This is a device which measures aether. I’d need to know about your production goals, and what sort of tests you were running. If you couldn’t give me answers, I’d be awfully close to taking your head.”

“That’s why I didn’t show you back then, ’cause that’s what I thought you’d say.” Craib glared at the king, pointing a finger at him in accusation.

It was his way of showing his friend that it could be very difficult to work out if his threats of beheading were genuine or not. For any normal person, it was an impossible distinction. Just because he could make such a threat didn’t mean he should—it was one of the reasons why people were so afraid of him. It should be noted now that Shinlu had never taken anybody’s head on a whim before.

Having a sense of humor was fine, but Shinlu was Lainur’s ruler. He was swift to execute a subject at the first sign that they were working counter to the kingdom’s interest, discarding them as offhandedly as one would a spent tissue. He wasn’t incapable of compassion; it was just that his sense of duty as king invariably overruled any feelings of kindness. Perhaps if people truly understood how he operated, they wouldn’t be so scared of him. In the end, he was as human as his subjects. If he weren’t, he wouldn’t be able to make friends like Craib.

“Isn’t it better for the people to be scared of their king?” Shinlu said.

“You think?”

“I mean, you know I’m charming enough to capture their hearts if I wanted to, right?”

“Sure you are. I didn’t say you weren’t.”

The fact was, Shinlu had a good number of admirers, which included many of the kingdom’s citizens. More so than any ruler before him.

“Anyway. Is this thing in proper production yet? If so, how are things looking?” Shinlu asked.

“I’ve just come back from the Guild; we sorted all of that out. There’s been an urgent summons to all of the kingdom’s magic troops. They’re all gonna be learning how to use these as early as tomorrow.”

“Good. Very good.” Shinlu let out a small chuckle. The extent of his joy was audible, even within that quiet sound. “I’m glad to hear it’s already being used to increase the kingdom’s military power.”

“Yup. All the groundwork’s bein’ laid out right now. Shouldn’t be more than six months before we start seein’ some results.”

“The magic troops always did have trouble getting their magicians on equal footing. I can’t believe that issue’s been solved so easily.”

“You shoulda seen the smile on Godwald’s face.”

“I’m not surprised.” Shinlu laughed. “Can’t imagine what a smile on that old gargoyle’s face looks like, though.”

“It’s terrifyin’.”

Shinlu let out an even louder laugh. The king mentioned before that he was thinking about giving the Guildmaster the name “Grimace.” Whether it was a joke or not was unclear, but it didn’t matter. Godwald firmly refused, claiming it would damage the reputation of the Guild and its state magicians.

“So what are your plans, as a man whose job it is to unite the army’s magicians?”

“I guess we start by measuring just how much aether our magicians pack in total. Then we can start work on gettin’ ’em all to the same level.”

“Is that what that’s for?” Shinlu motioned to a tremendous aethometer sitting in front of them.

It was an aethometer designed for measuring greater volumes of aether than the smaller types, and it was the only one of its kind produced. Made specially for the royal family, there were no plans for any more to be made, either.

“You got it. Hope it’s big enough to show how powerful you guys are, huh?”

Once the army’s magicians saw it, they would be abuzz with how the royal family had such a unique, grand-scale version of the amazing device already. At the same time, it was so ridiculously huge that it almost looked like a toy. Despite that, its size was nothing to sniff at.

“First, we’ll lend this to each company and get them to measure up their magicians one by one.”

“I trust those men will weep in gratitude at the crown allowing them to ascertain their strength objectively?”

“Who knows?”

At the very least, Craib was sure they’d be thankful, both at being able to measure themselves up and at being allowed the use of a tool normally reserved for the royal family. Whether it would make them cry remained to be seen, but there was no doubt that it would boost their morale.

“Was this Godwald’s idea, too?”

“Yep.” Craib reached into the bag he brought with him and pulled out a handful of aethometers. “And these are for His Royal Highness.”

“He’ll be pleased. I bet I won’t see him coming out of his room for days.”

“Same goes for you, right?”

“Of course. You should know by now that you and I share the same object of our romance.”

“Just don’t shirk your duties, yeah?”

“If I do, it’ll be your fault.”

“Hey, that ain’t fair! Just ’cause you’re the king doesn’t mean you can blame everything on everyone else.”

Shinlu burst into joyful laughter. Craib hadn’t seen him this happy in a long time. Lately he’d been so overworked with diplomacy and other kingly issues that he’d fallen into an almost permanently stormy mood. As his friend, Craib was glad to have done something to get the more troubling worries off his mind, if only for a few moments.

Once his laughter died down, a serious glint returned to the king’s eye. “The next thing to worry about is the public unveiling and how we time it. Your nephew, Arcus, invented this thing. He’s only ten years old, but he’s already been disinherited, and his father seems to have it in for him. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.”

“He’s got it worse than I did, too. If we had him use all his aether on that aethometer right there, I reckon we’d get about 2000 mana out of him.”

“What about you?”

“I’d probably manage 13,000. Maybe a bit more.”

“So I could do at least three times that.”

“Oh, wow, Your Majesty. Truly you are the greatest magician in the land whose light unites us all!”

“Surely you could have come up with a funnier line than that. Anyway... Is that part of why Arcus came up with this? Since he doesn’t have much aether, being able to measure it would allow him to put it to more effective use.”

“I’m guessin’ so, yeah. One of the first things he asked me when I started trainin’ him was how to measure aether accurately. He was sayin’ stuff about units and calculations and stuff. Kinda threw me off.”

“He must have spent a long time thinking about it to come up with something like this.”

“Y’know, I don’t think so. He said he came up with it by total coincidence.”

“A magnificent coincidence, in that case. What I wouldn’t give to see what goes on in his head.”

“As long as you don’t take it off him.”

“Unfortunately, beheading people opens windows only on the rudest of their inner workings.” Shinlu suddenly raised his eyebrows. “That reminds me: the Raythefts have a daughter too, don’t they? Is she lacking in aether as well?”

“Nope. She’s got tons, even when you compare her to some of the former heirs. She’s got a lotta drive, too, probably ’cause she doesn’t want her brother leavin’ her behind.”

“You’ll want to be careful, then. You don’t want her taking any of the backlash from her brother’s success.”

“Well... Joshua sure seems to take good care of her right now, but I guess that’s a possibility. Though I don’t think he would.”

So far, Joshua was raising Lecia with love and care. According to Noah and some of the other servants, although he was strict with her, he never lashed out or went overboard. Knowing his brother as he did, Craib expected Joshua to try and expedite Lecia’s education once he learned of Arcus’s achievement—but nothing more than that. Having said that, he never expected Joshua to strip Arcus of his inheritance either, so anything was possible.

“What’s your answer, then?” Craib asked, bringing the conversation back to the main topic.

“As you may expect, I plan to make use of the public announcement politically.”

“I think Arcus had an inkling of that. He’s not pesterin’ me to announce it right away, after all.”

Shinlu clearly wanted to use the aethometer as a symbol of Lainur’s national power. Should the crown need to make any unpopular changes in policy, the announcement would make for a convenient distraction. Otherwise, this invention made for a powerful card to keep up Lainur’s sleeve. As was mentioned at the Guild meeting, it was totally revolutionary; it had the potential to take the kingdom by storm. Looking outwards, too, it would make for a useful diplomatic and commercial bargaining chip. The king had a range of options before him, but he would want to ponder those options very, very carefully. Moreover, he couldn’t very well give an order to a young man without any reason, and so that would have to wait until the public announcement, too.

“We shall have to give Arcus a suitable reward. Do you know if there’s anything he’d like?”

The Guild was already rewarding him financially, and he had an order in the works, too. Craib paused to think about what else his nephew wanted.

“He’ll need supporters. People backing him.”

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t you want to keep him on a short leash?”

“Hey, he’s still just a kid, y’know.”

“That’s why I said it. Best to keep him and milk him for everything he’s worth before sending him out there. Tactically speaking, it’d be best to keep him to yourself.” Shinlu narrowed his eyes. “Anyway, he’s only ten. Has he told you he wants people backing him? Isn’t he too young to be asking for that sort of thing?”

“Well, the Guild’s already giving him money, and he’s gettin’ an order too. Backing’s the next thing on the list, right?”

All of a sudden, Shinlu’s voice turned cold. “Is he really that ambitious?”

“He just wants to make a name for himself. I don’t think he was after that at first, so someone must’ve planted the idea in his head.”

It was only in the past couple of years or so that Craib recognized just how much ambition Arcus had. Originally, all he wanted was to get revenge on his parents, but his goal seemed to have inflated. Craib didn’t see this as a bad thing; quite the contrary. However, ambition was something the king had to keep an eye on, especially if it wasn’t clear how deep it ran.

“Are people approaching him already?” Shinlu asked.

“Not yet. I’m thinkin’ some of the generals at the meeting might start makin’ moves, though.”

“What about Cremelia? Arcus would probably be interested in his support, especially since he has a daughter around the same age.”

“Huh. Gettin’ suspicious of Purce now?”

“I don’t doubt his loyalty. In fact, I can’t think of a martial head who’s done more for us across the entire kingdom. It’s just...”

“You don’t wanna give him more power than necessary, right?”

The king never did like the nobles having too much power, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why. Shinlu trusted Purce, and so he was unlikely to fear rebellion no matter how much influence the count had. However, power was something that was handed down across generations. He couldn’t guarantee he would have the same trust in Purce’s children and grandchildren, or even the vassals in his territory. It wouldn’t be the first time a change in family head led to a breach of trust, leading to the crown confiscating their territory.

“Considering the relationship between the Cremelias and the Raythefts, Purce is certainly in a position to help Arcus fulfill his ambitions.”

“And what if Arcus wanted to start a new house?”

“We would allow it, if he insisted. Although, even if we were being generous, we would allow him up to two wives maximum.”

“So you’ll be restricting his marriages now?”

“It’s necessary. The aethometer is impressive enough, but I doubt this is the last thing he’ll be coming up with.”

“Right. I bet his brain’s workin’ on all sorts of stuff even now.”

“We shall take care of his marriage plans, then.”

Arcus’s invention was huge. If he wanted to get married, the crown would likely want to prevent him gaining too much power from it. As such, it would try to pair him with a wife from a family who already had close ties to the royal family. In the first instance, at least. In this case, Charlotte would be a perfect choice if Arcus was happy to accept her.

Craib understood completely. He had married after he ran away from the Raytheft house, to a daughter of a noble Sapphireberg family. They had married because they were in love, but when Craib returned to Lainur, he hadn’t been allowed to take her with him. Both the monarchs of Sapphireberg and Lainur wanted the couple to live separately. Sapphireberg wanted the connection to a state magician, while Lainur wanted to be able to interfere in Sapphireberg’s affairs from time to time. Shinlu also used that as an excuse to allow Craib to go and see his wife as often as he wanted.

Unfortunately, anybody above a certain rung of society was destined to have their marital affairs interfered with. However, allowing his marriage to be decided by the crown also meant that Arcus would have the royal family’s protection. The number of nobles who were forced to marry due to their status was significant. It could prove to be a real inconvenience, but with this deal, Arcus would have nothing to worry about.

Shinlu was a magician himself. He knew that it was freedom which allowed them to progress in their research more than anything else. Craib had no doubt that Shinlu would put his carrot-and-stick approach to good use when it came to granting Arcus that freedom.

“He might end up being a bit of a handful,” Shinlu said thoughtfully.

“Hey, if worse comes to worst, I could always adopt him. Then I could keep a close eye on him without restrictin’ him.”

“Let’s raise a glass. Come on.” With the conversation winding down, Shinlu picked up his glass in a most dramatic fashion.

Craib lazily reached out for the wine bottle. “Yeah, yeah. As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“I hope you’ll keep helping me out, for the sake of the kingdom’s advancement.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

And with that, the two drained their glasses.

Lecia Raytheft and her father Joshua were attending a salon hosted by a certain noble. Salons were a special kind of reception where the host would invite intellectuals to enjoy discussions of all things lofty and arcane. It was a popular place for nobles to network; these sorts of private gatherings were common among the nobility in France, a country in the man’s world.

Magicians held salons too, of course. Famous magicians would be invited to share their knowledge with the attendees. Magicians were already considered a sort of aristocracy on their own, and it was only those with a noble rank who were invited to these things. Not only did you need to have a high level of magic skill, but you needed to know how to carry yourself and hold a certain amount of political knowledge.

This particular salon was being hosted by the Rondiel house. Marquess Gastarque Rondiel was possibly the most famous magician in the kingdom, and even among the salons started by his third son, Casister Rondiel, this one was particularly exclusive.

This was the second time Lecia had attended. She had been to several other magical salons before with her father, but she was particularly nervous about this one. At those gatherings, the other attendees were of similar status and had a similar knowledge of magic, but this was different. The Raythefts and the Rondiels belonged to two different schools of magic. One historically favored the use of fire magic, and the other magical manipulation of physical objects. Their divergent interests created differences in their ways of thinking, and since salons sometimes involved discussion of secret techniques, it was important to try to avoid topics that the other side considered taboo, or to touch too heavily upon controversy.

Though Lecia wouldn’t go so far as to call them her enemies, there were certainly some attendees to be very wary of, and as such she found herself feeling somewhat self-conscious. At the same time, their own attendance was a testament to Joshua’s incredible skill.

Even compared to other houses kingdom-wide, the Raythefts had a long history and consistently produced strong magicians with every successive generation. They had a long list of military achievements, too, meaning many nobles were eager to invite them to their gatherings. Upon hearing that Casister was eager to invite magical families from across factional lines to his salons, Joshua immediately started networking and laying the groundwork for the Raythefts to receive an invitation.

Casister Rondiel, the host, was already in the reception hall. He was in his mid-forties and was a good-looking, elegant man. He had foregone the traditional noble wear for a jacket paired with long pants, which had been gaining popularity recently. Countless medals adorned his chest. He flashed his charming smile every which way, greeting his guests in a most cheerful manner.

The martial nobles Lecia had met before tended to be energetic but dignified, holding a certain level of majesty stemming from their social position and level of power. Casister seemed meek in comparison.

He also seemed to be paying particular attention to the ladies, which was to be expected with the blood that ran through his veins. There was a special sparkle in his eye as he spoke to them too. Joshua told her that the Rondiel men were very much “ladies’ men.” Starting with Gastarque, his sons—and even his daughters—had a fondness for adorable girls. Lecia herself didn’t quite understand what it all meant.

“This is your second salon, Lecia,” Joshua said. “I understand you might be nervous, but this is an incredibly valuable chance to speak to some fine magicians. You should really make an effort to insert yourself into the conversation.”

“Yes, Father.”

“There are also many high-ranking children in attendance tonight. Before you speak to anybody, watch how they behave and how they are dressed, so you know how to approach them. I shall be doing the very same thing.”

“Yes, Father,” Lecia said again.

At these sorts of gatherings, it was uncouth for lower-ranking nobles to address those above them without being invited to first. Trying to work out where you stood compared to children was particularly tricky, but Lecia knew that everyone here was likely her equal or better, and so she would have to keep her wits about her at all times. The way nobles dressed themselves these days was also changing rapidly, meaning their clothing was not as reliable an indicator of status as it once was.

“Well, if it isn’t Viscount Raytheft!”

“Hello, Viscount Lazrael! I am glad to see you are doing well.”

Viscount Lazrael had territory in the south of Lainur, and his magic focused on using earth and rock. He wasn’t in attendance at the last salon, but he was here now, and not alone: beside him walked a young boy around Lecia’s age. He had the same brown hair as his father and a sense of youthful gallantry about him. He was dressed in typical young noble fashion, too. Though his expression was kind and gentle, there was no denying the strong spark of determination in his eye.

“I’m Kane Lazrael. A pleasure to meet you.” Though his greeting was relatively informal, his bow was nothing short of perfect.

That one beautifully fluid action made it clear how strict his upbringing was, likely at the behest of his father, Viscount Lazrael. His manners were exquisite, yet his tone remained friendly. It was a refreshing change from the stiff manner of speech Lecia was used to hearing from other nobles, and was likely a tool to allow him to make friends with other noble children quickly.

Kane Lazrael was a famous name in the magical world. He boasted a magnificent store of aether, which impressed everyone who was there to witness the long ordeal that was his examination. There were even rumors that he was the reincarnation of the hero described in the Ancient Chronicles, but no solid evidence had emerged to back up the claim.

“My name is Lecia Raytheft.” Lecia responded to Kane’s greeting with a standard one of her own.

Kane continued in his amicable way, a touch of confidence shining through his words. “I’ve heard a lot about you. It looks like we’re both going to be supporting this kingdom through the use of our magic; I’ll look forward to working with you.”

“And I as well.”

Though it was a little too familiar for an initial meeting, his friendly smile helped to put Lecia at ease. Lecia turned her attention to their fathers’ conversation. They seemed to be paying close attention to one of the other guests.

“She is Duke Saifice’s daughter, isn’t she?”

“Yes, Lady Claudia. It is said that she possesses a fine amount of aether as well.”

They were looking at an elegant young girl around the same age as Lecia and Kane.

She was Claudia Saifice. The Saifice dukedom was one of the four cornerstone dukedoms of the royal family, and Claudia was their daughter.

“I have heard that this generation is a particularly talented one.”

“Your son being one of them, of course.”

“Your daughter, too.” The viscount smiled back at Joshua.

It was a common formality to compliment the offspring of another noble, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing for the children. Lecia exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Kane, but their parents kept going.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be one of those parents who brags endlessly about their children, but I am very much looking forward to when my son enrolls in the Institute. I know that he has the potential to carve his name into magical history.”

“I can assure you that Lecia shall not be overshadowed by him.”

Lazrael let out a hearty laugh. “We shall see how things go in three years’ time.”

“Indeed we shall.”

It was in the middle of this jovial exchange that Casister finally made his way to them.

“Pardon me for interrupting, but might I take this opportunity to welcome you?”

The laughter dissolved completely at the marquess’s arrival, and the two viscounts set about giving him a formal greeting. Lecia and Kane followed their fathers’ example and turned their attention to their host. Lazrael gave his greeting first.

Like Lazrael, the Rondiels’ territory lay in the south, and they belonged to the same faction; they were likely to know each other quite well. Casister smiled at them warmly before turning to the Raythefts.

“Lord Casister. I am Joshua, of the Raytheft house.”

“Ah, yes, Viscount Joshua and young Miss Lecia. This is your second salon, if I’m not mistaken. I must apologize for not having the chance to speak with you last time.”

“Not at all, My Lord! We are honored to speak with Your Lordship now,” Joshua said.

“Come now, I am simply the third son of the marquess. My father had no title left for me but viscount.”

“My Lord, if I may say, there is no need to be so modest.” Joshua seemed unsure what to do with Casister’s sudden display of self-deprecation.

Although they both held the title of viscount, Casister was older than Joshua, not to mention that his father was a marquess. As such, he was the higher ranked of the two. You only had to look at the scope of this salon to know that. Hosting a salon like this would be far beyond the capabilities of a regular viscount. The modesty was simply part of Casister’s character.

Lecia gave a curtsy to Casister, following her father’s greeting.

“I have heard you are focusing a great deal on your daughter’s magical education. How far are you in your studies now, Miss Lecia?”

“My Lord, recently I was able to destroy some stone using Flamrune.”

“Oh, but that’s marvelous!” Casister gasped.

Some of the surrounding nobles and their children, who had also been listening in, turned to look at Lecia in astonishment.

Magic was not just about being able to incant properly; it also required prodigious imagination. Even if you spoke the incantation flawlessly, if the amount of aether you used was off, or your imagination was too dull, the intended result would be beyond you.

Unlike other kinds of magic, fire magic was not about manipulating something physically in front of you. Being able to destroy stone with Flamrune was a clear indicator that you had mastered fire magic. On top of that, Flamrune was a staple spell in the kingdom’s armed forces. Mastering it meant you were more or less battle-ready.

“Impressive,” Casister continued. “Meanwhile, the children coming to Harveston this year have been struggling with their aether management.”

Harveston was a small private establishment which trained children in the use of magic, staffed by magicians of a distinguished caliber. In some ways, it was similar to a training hall for martial arts. Harveston produced a disproportionate number of talented magicians; many of them went on to teach at the Royal Institute. Even among the children who attended, it was rare for a child of Lecia’s age to be so adept at magic.

“Wonderful. I trust this is down to your father’s instruction?” Casister said.

“No, My Lord,” Joshua said, speaking on Lecia’s behalf, “it is down to her resourcefulness. I remember struggling a great deal with magic when I was her age.”

Lazrael and his son gasped at Joshua’s admission.

“I didn’t realize Raytheft children were taught so much so young.”

“I’ve only just learned how to use Rearth Sword myself...”

“I still have much to learn,” Lecia cut in, hoping to maintain an image of modesty.

“I suppose you cannot help but compare yourself to your father,” Casister said.

Lecia paused. “Yes, My Lord. My father is an incredibly talented magician.”

Joshua was not the first person who came to mind when it came to weighing herself against others. In terms of magical power, the person she was thinking of wasn’t as good as Joshua, Craib, or even Noah or Cazzy. His natural levels of aether were paltry.

But his image was there waiting for her whenever the lens of her inner thoughts came to rest on her aspirations. He was already using more powerful magic than Flamrune two whole years ago. Recently, and unbeknownst to her parents, he had taught her a new spell called Scrapped Impact, which was apparently a stronger version of a spell he created before. He already had more than twenty of these original spells, even if some of them were mostly unusable.

Even Joshua admitted to her that it was a struggle for him to command his imagination when it came to creating new spells. To Lecia, it was like her brother was capable of performing each of his spells perfectly as soon as he had the incantation down. His biggest problem was that he didn’t seem to have the time to create all the spells he wanted to.

As they waited for the main lecture to start, Joshua continued chatting with Lazrael, while Lecia discussed magic with Kane. All of a sudden, there was a cheer at the hall’s entrance, and the crowd around it parted to reveal an older gentleman dressed similarly to Casister. He had an attendant on either side of him and walked with a stick with a bent handle. He wore a fedora atop his head—a hat which was very much in vogue.

The crowd whispered his name in awe: “Marquess Gastarque!”

“I am so very sorry to disturb the peace like this.”

As he walked, the nobility stepped back to allow him passage. Perhaps they were being polite, or perhaps they were cowering from the majesty that flowed out about him. Either way, a wide path was opened up for him, and the people bowed as he passed. Tension sparked in the room, accompanied with a heaviness that made it seem as though gravity had increased tenfold. Despite that, the eyes that surveyed him were full of an adoration that tempered the fear they felt. They admired him not only as a national hero, but a great magician—one they could only dream of emulating.

Only his son, Casister, could greet him normally. Joshua maintained his bow, the nerves rippling through his body. Lecia herself could barely move. Even when she tried lifting a finger, it felt as heavy as lead.

Casister approached Gastarque with a graceful gait, and the tension in the room began to loosen.

“It is good to see you here, Father.”

“I apologize for intruding so suddenly.”

“Not at all, Father! You are always welcome.”

The two of them began to engage in light conversation.

“My, there are a lot of pretty ladies here tonight,” Gastarque remarked.

“There are indeed! So many beautiful women, and young girls who will no doubt grow up to be just as stunning. See that girl over there! Isn’t she darling?”

“Oho. I should like to see her in five years’ time...”

The rest of their conversation wasn’t worth repeating. It wasn’t long before they were tittering lecherously together. At the very least, it completely broke down the tension that was in the air moments before. The guests took the chance to straighten up from their bows. Even now, there was a quiet, oppressive dignity in the air, but it was not as strong as before. The Raythefts and Lazraels were close enough to hear snippets of the Rondiels’ conversation.

“How was it, Father?”

“It was quite something. Really, I should like to speak to the entire family at once.”

“Oh?”

Gastarque leaned in to whisper something into his son’s ear. Casister’s mouth dropped open as he heard what he had to say.

“I-Is that the truth?!”

“It is.”

“But who could have created such a thing? Was it perhaps one of the other state magicians?!”

“I am not allowed to say. You should have worked that much out by the nature of the thing.”

“O-Oh. Yes, Father!”

“Godwald has lent me a good number of them, as well, although there are conditions pertaining to their use, of course.”

“So I suppose you wish the family to gather so we can use them?”

“Correct. I hope you are ready to receive my instruction, as it has certainly been a while!”

“Of course I am, Father!” Casister exclaimed joyfully.

From his tone of voice, Lecia was surprised he wasn’t currently leaping into the air.

Joshua leaned in to speak to Lazrael. “Whatever it is, it certainly looks like good news.”

“Yes.”

All of a sudden, Gastarque turned in their direction. His glare was particularly sharp and much more keen than the unsettling gaze he had used looking over the hall on his arrival. His eyes widened slightly.

“That silver hair... might you belong to the Raytheft house?”

“Yes, Father.” Casister answered in Joshua’s stead. “I believed it prudent to deepen our ties with magicians from different factions. On this occasion, Viscount Raytheft was more than happy to pay us a visit.”

“I see. Well, it is very heartwarming to see one of Lainur’s oldest families so eager.” Gastarque approached them.

He had a powerful stride, despite his age. Though he was only a little taller than Joshua, to Lecia he almost seemed three times as big. Lecia had a close encounter with a marquess previously, but Gastarque was much more impressive than that man was.

Joshua took to one knee and bowed. “It is good to see Your Lordship this evening. I am Joshua Raytheft. This is my daughter.”

“My name is Lecia. It is a pleasure to make Your Lordship’s acquaintance.”

“Mm,” the marquess grunted.

Lecia’s heart was pounding, but she was pleased that she didn’t mess up the greeting. She was grateful now for her strict upbringing. She had been trained day after day to get her used to dealing with the overwhelming majesty that higher-ranking nobles gave off. Even if her father’s aura wasn’t as powerful as her uncle’s, it was nothing to be sniffed at. Some auras were enough to render someone completely immobile.

Gastarque seemed impressed. “Even in my old age, I have rarely seen a young girl like you greet me so properly. I shall be looking forward to seeing how you develop.”

“Y-Yes, My Lord.”

“His Lordship praised her!”

“Amazing!”

The other guests murmured among themselves. Their gazes were making Lecia uncomfortable, but she didn’t have time to squirm. She had to focus on the state magician before her.

“I met your brother this evening.”

“I-I beg your pardon?” The statement caught Lecia entirely off guard.

Why would Gastarque be talking about Arcus?

Seeing her confusion, the old magician continued in a gentle, yet firm, tone. “Keep working hard, young lady. You must continue to put in the effort, else you may find yourself falling far behind.”

Confusion aside, Lecia only had one answer for him. She didn’t want Arcus to leave her in the dust, either.

“I shall do my very best, My Lord. More so than before.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Gastarque said.

“Please forgive me for being so impudent, My Lord,” Joshua began. “However, please allow me to ask what Your Lordship is referring to.”

“I am afraid I do not wish to answer your question.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Joshua said quickly, not daring to push it any further.

Afterwards, Gastarque left the hall with Casister and his servants in tow. The salon continued without them, but not once did the frown leave Joshua’s face that evening.

One day, Lecia was called to Joshua’s main office in the Raytheft estate. This was the room in which the successive heads of the Raytheft house had conducted their business for generations. Two of the Raythefts’ flags hung crossed on the wall behind the desk. The carpet and curtains were a calming color, and the leather sofa and glass table let the office double as a drawing room.

The Raythefts had always kept their home spartan since before they gained their title, eschewing the elaborate ornaments and fixtures other noble households treasured. Rather than overspending on superfluous furnishings, the Raythefts preferred to funnel the money into their military budget, or for the good of the crown. This creed had been passed down from the very founding of the viscountry. Believing their money could be better spent elsewhere, the only objects in the house that had been bought recently were the Sol Glasses and tables, as well as some screens made of frosted glass.

Lecia sat next to her father on the sofa in front of the desk. Joshua’s brother, Craib Abend, sat across from them on the other side of the glass table. Lecia loved her uncle. Even putting aside his legendary station, he spoiled her as if she were his own daughter.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation, Brother,” Joshua said.

“Yeah, no worries. What’s wrong, though? You’re lookin’ awful serious.” Craib frowned at him.

Joshua was being particularly formal, given how he usually spoke to his brother. Despite the resentments they held, they both acknowledged each other as family.

Lecia wondered why her father was acting so strange. Was he angry about something? Annoyed? Whatever it was, it felt rooted in something negative.

Without answering Craib’s question, Joshua pulled something out of the bundle next to him. It appeared to be a glass tube contained within a wooden frame. At the bottom of the glass tube sat a small amount of red liquid. There were perfectly equidistant numbers carved into the frame like a scale. Lecia had never seen such a thing before and couldn’t imagine what it might be used for.

Joshua placed it on the table in front of them.

“I have some questions for you about this,” he announced curtly.

Craib exhaled the cigar smoke in his mouth towards the ceiling before answering.

“Fine, but I gotta ask you somethin’ first, since I’m a state magician and all. Where exactly did ya get this?” Craib’s tone of voice was even sharper than Joshua’s, as if Joshua was in deep trouble.

“I understand that this tool is being guarded incredibly tightly. Somebody lent it to me as a special favor.”

“Blackmail, was it? Bastard...”

“Those were the lengths I was forced to go to in order to obtain one.”

Even if she didn’t know what was going on, Lecia inferred from the conversation that the thing on the table was very important.

“Father, what exactly is that object?”

“It is... a tool which can measure aetheric volume.”

“I-It can measure aether?”

“Correct. The magician simply releases some aether like so...”

As Joshua did so, the red liquid at the bottom of the glass tube started to travel up it. The numbers, Lecia realized, must indicate how much aether was being detected. She gasped. Having studied magic for as long as she had, she instantly understood how significant a device like this was. As a magician, too, she immediately wanted to try it out for herself, but she also knew it wasn’t something to be treated so lightly.

“Lecia,” Craib began firmly, “this is a national secret. It hasn’t even been announced publicly yet. You can’t tell anyone about it, or about what we say in this meeting now. Got it?”

“Y-Yes, sir.” She paused before daring to ask, “Not even my brother?”

“That’s right.”

“...I understand.”

Lecia was disappointed. If her brother found out something like this existed, he would be overcome with excitement. He taught her so much, too. It was a shame she couldn’t repay him by sharing a secret of her own. She barely held back a frustrated sigh. She hadn’t missed the frown that flickered across Joshua’s face when she asked about her brother. He didn’t say anything, though, opting instead to ask more about the tool itself.

“Brother,” Joshua said.

“Look, I dunno why you’re askin’ me about this.”

“I have already eliminated all other possibilities about this invention’s origin. You are the only one left now.”

“Huh?”

“Did you invent this?”

“Nope.”

“Please do not feign ignorance.”

“I didn’t make it. What, you really think I’m that smart?”

“If not you, then where on earth did it come from?!” Joshua suddenly demanded.

Lecia flinched as her father raised his voice. Craib, on the other hand, grinned.

“Whaddya mean ‘where did it come from’? I thought you were sure it was me?”

“For goodness’s sake, stop with the theatrics!”

“Okay, okay. I’m bein’ a pain, I know.” Craib took another puff of his cigar.

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. A small burst of courage racing through her, Lecia reached over to pick up the device. It was easy to hold, and not too heavy either. She tried releasing a little aether. Sure enough, the red liquid started to move up the tube. The units were clearly etched into the wood, too, so clear that you only needed a single glance to see how much aether you had just put out. In certain parts of the wood, there were some characters that belonged to neither Lainur’s language nor the Elder Tongue. Lecia wondered if it was a signature of some sort. At the same time, they seemed somewhat familiar to her.

Oh!

She remembered. She understood. She knew who made this.

The meticulous detail. The seals, each stroke made with the utmost care. She would know them anywhere. It was him. He made this.

When Craib said it wasn’t him, he was telling the truth.

Brother...

Lecia already knew he was talented, but this was something else entirely. It was then that she realized something else: it was because of this device that Gastarque had approached her at the salon. His conversation with his son made sense. He must have come back from an important meeting where this device and its inventor were revealed. That was why Gastarque warned her about falling behind and brushed Joshua off when he asked about it.

Her brother had always been shunned by her parents and even the servants. But now he had achieved something that completely overshadowed the years of misery he spent growing up. Lecia felt her heart welling up with joy.

“Give that back to whoever you took it from, Joshua, and I’ll let this one slide.”

“Very well.”

“You sure? The king’s keepin’ a close eye on this, y’know, and I already spoke with him about it. You pull anythin’ funny, and he won’t hesitate to destroy the Raytheft name.”

“But... But, I...”

Joshua began to protest, but gave up almost immediately. His shoulders sagged with the weight of his disappointment.

“I get it’s annoyin’. I swear I didn’t make this, though. I woulda told you if it was me.”

Was it Craib’s refusal to answer any more questions that filled Lecia’s father with disappointment right now? She didn’t feel as if that was quite right. Instead, it must have been because Joshua was worried Craib wouldn’t tell him even if he had created something like this. Even though they were brothers, Joshua could be pretty stern with Craib sometimes. Craib would usually tease him when he did so. Their relationship was a complicated one, to say the least, but if there was one thing Lecia knew for sure, it was that they didn’t dislike each other. If they did, there was no way Joshua would permit Craib to show up at the estate without warning, and they wouldn’t call on each other to discuss certain things as they did. If they couldn’t stand each other, they wouldn’t meet so often. They would be openly hostile with each other. Despite their history, they shared a special bond. That was why Joshua got so upset when Craib—his brother— wouldn’t say anything.

But it was Arcus who made this device, and Craib was trying to hide that fact from Joshua.

Joshua put the tool away again and Craib put a bag on top of the table. Taking something out of it, he handed it towards Lecia.

“This one’s for you.”

“For me?”

“That’s right.”

It was another device just like the one Joshua put away.

Joshua’s eyebrows leaped up in surprise. “Are you quite sure?”

“This is what the inventor wanted. Take care of it, yeah? You can’t be lettin’ other people use it, and whatever you do, don’t lose it.”

“Yes, yes, we know.”

“And don’t you pinch it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!”

“Good. And don’t forget that the king’s got his eye on this, yeah? That’s all I can really tell you, though.”

“We shall bear it in mind,” Joshua said, and left it at that.

If the crown was involved, there wasn’t anything he would dare do to interfere. Lecia was sure that, if her father really put the thought into it, he would realize who created it. But it seemed he wasn’t going to. Lecia wondered why.

Then she realized: he didn’t want to accept it. That was why he was so desperate to discover that its inventor was somebody else. He wanted to keep believing that the boy he disinherited was as talentless as he always claimed. Despite his magical skills, despite what he had created, Joshua didn’t want to accept the truth.

Craib must have understood and was using that stubbornness against him now. Joshua would only believe the truth when he was forced to confront it head-on. That was why Craib never answered his question directly: because there was no point. Maybe it was the inventor himself who foresaw this happening. Maybe he knew that people preferred to believe what they wanted to believe. He came out with similar ideas when he spoke about the situation with the marquess, too, and about the mercenary he fought that day. Once Arcus convinced that mercenary that he was talentless, his enemy clung to that perception until the very end. What was happening in front of Lecia now was the exact same thing. Even now, Joshua would continue to call her brother useless. As far as he was concerned, Arcus had to stay that way.

Lecia fully expected her magic training to become much tougher from that day on. She welcomed it. If she didn’t start upping her game now, she would only be left behind.

Months had passed since the aethometer’s unveiling. It was the greatest invention to hit the kingdom in recent years, but there was relatively little excitement. The Guild had maintained its promised veil of secrecy and exclusivity; even in the least scrupulous corners of Lainur, not even rumors of the device’s existence had entered circulation.

Arcus found this atmosphere exciting and briefly considered giving the aethometer a code name at one point, but that never came to fruition. He made the decision not to come out as the tool’s inventor until he was a self-reliant adult; any earlier, and he would be unlikely to reap the full rewards of his achievement. At the moment, its general unveiling was being delayed to serve the crown’s interests; for the time being, that suited Arcus’s plans nicely.

For now, he was just happy that his invention was being funded and that, as things stood, he could probably get away with asking a favor of the crown if he needed to. Nothing would come of being greedy or impatient, Arcus reasoned, and it was always best to act in clear-sighted accord with one’s situation.

There was a certain idiom in the man’s world: “Tall trees catch much wind.” In those terms, Arcus was already tall enough as it was; he’d resolved to conduct himself with the utmost caution from now on.

As promised at the meeting, the aethometer began making its way into the military the very next day, and the state magicians had already put the invention to work in their training. Since there had been nothing like it before, it would take a few months before Arcus could assess its effects objectively. Apparently it was already proving invaluable in the medical field. Unlike in military efforts, where it was used for a whole unit, in hospitals it could be used for one person at a time. All signs on the medical front pointed towards the aethometer’s effectiveness both in leveling the playing field for healers and accelerating their training, improving both the quality and accessibility of magical care. Arcus was surprised to find that a letter of thanks had found its way to him.

He even heard that various enterprises overseen by the royal family, including soda- and paper-making, were seeing vast improvements thanks to the aethometer. Mismanagement of aether caused accidents on an almost daily basis in those industries; the introduction of the aethometer had made a marked difference.

Arcus even heard that they wanted to introduce aethometers into lectures at the Royal Institute, but that they were waiting for the right time to do so. Finally, there was the matter of producing more aethometers. Requests had begun to come from the royal family itself through the Magician’s Guild. They left Arcus at an impasse; expanding the parameters of manufacture would call for him to disclose the secret of tempered aether, and just as with the aethometer itself, he preferred to guard that secret until the moment it would be most profitable to publicize.

Today, Arcus was at work in the garden at the Abend estate, dabbling with brewing again, as he did whenever he had a moment to spare now. He was, of course, not without the help of Klin Botter on these occasions. He’d only recently managed to cultivate a live specimen of the herbal ingredient he needed. Usually it thrived on the plains in the northern reaches of Lainur, but fortunately one of the state magicians—Muller “Welcome Rain” Quint, the medic-magician who had been driven nearly to tears by the aethometer’s unveiling—was growing some of her own and proved more than happy to share. When she’d received Arcus to hand off the plant, she made it clear that he needed only to say the word, and she would make the time to assist with his work in whatever way she could.

Arcus had started growing the specimen in Craib’s garden, magically guiding its growth according to the book’s instructions. The end goal was to transform it into the “soma” described in the book—and now it sat right in front of him.

Arcus found himself at a loss for words. As it turned out, soma was more than just a plant. It was a tree, and a prodigiously sized tree at that. To think that such a tiny plant could transform into an entire tree purely by magical means. It had started to grow from the very first time Arcus cast magic on it, and he’d kept it growing for months. It had grown so quickly that Arcus was afraid he might have accidentally caused a kind of freakish genetic mutation.

He gave the trunk an experimental knock. It was as sturdy and thick as any tree.

“If you ever wanted to take up carpentry, you now have the materials to do so,” Noah remarked when he had seen it.

“Hey, Arcus,” said Craib, knocking Arcus out of his recollective fugue.

“Yeah?”

“I gave you the all clear to practice your magic in my garden. I never said you could start your own forest in my backyard.”

“It’d be too dangerous to do at my house, though,” Arcus objected. “Joshua and Celine would kill me.”

“What, so my garden’s fine? How d’you even get a tree to grow so big in a few months, anyway?”

“Er... I don’t actually know myself.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Aaaah! Ow! Ow! Stop it!” Arcus squirmed as his uncle ground his fist lightly against his head. He really didn’t like this habit of Craib’s. He was worried it would stunt his growth.

Arcus had created a tap-like device similar to the one used to harvest sap from maple trees. When he fixed it into the bark, sap came out. Taking some on his finger, he licked it.

“Huh. It’s sweet.”

The flavor was subtle, but there was a note of rich sweetness to it.

Craib followed his nephew’s example. “What’s your plan for this then, Arcus?”

“What? Oh, um... Not telling!”

“Ah, right, so it’s still a secret, huh? Well, I’ll look forward to when you can tell me, then,” Craib said, heading back inside the house.

Arcus couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was planning to brew alcohol with it, though he didn’t think Craib would be mad at him or anything.

It’s just...

For some reason, he felt like making the admission might spark some sort of trouble, even though he knew he couldn’t keep it a secret forever. Half of him was tempted to give up on the whole thing.

“The next step is to put this stuff in a barrel with some yeast...”

Arcus wouldn’t know which would work best until he tried it, but he was hoping there was a winner among the varieties Noah already procured. In terms of preservation, all he needed was the right seals on the barrels. There were already seals in the cellar to keep it at a constant temperature. It took a year for it to get to this point, but it now functioned as a mini distillery. It was Craib who very kindly gave Arcus that space to work with, and, thanks to the seals taking the place of electrical appliances, it was fit for a brewery’s purpose in the man’s world. Aside from temperature regulation, Arcus could manipulate the seals to freeze his products and ingredients as well.

“You know, maybe if seals really can do the same stuff as electronics, our worlds don’t need to be so different after all.”

Without incantations or aether, seals weren’t nearly as versatile as ordinary spells. Regardless of their limitations, however, Arcus was prepared to give this little hobby his best shot.