Orphan At The Edge Of The World - 251 The Magician 9

She felt that too much time burden had been added to her soul. And if she didn’t accomplish the rise, then she had to embrace the fall. She warned that there was a point when a climber’s soul, unable to properly release previous lives, would become rigid, metaphysically. In such a state, it could grow no more and the myriad methods of rebirth wouldn’t grant much beyond some extra useless time. If she succeeded, she wrote that she’d go to a nexus after releasing some emotional baggage.

The post note read, “You’re so full of life and drive. Hold onto that as long as you can. For an old woman like me, it’s too much. If I make it to fifth tier, many things will change for me and I’ll be able to keep up with you! Stay strong, love Lily.”

Orison looked at Duran and said, “I don’t know what it takes to get to tier five, do you? I think I may have forgotten.”

The boy nodded. ” A domain. It’s the field around them that tier fives use to bend law.”

A certain memory lit up. “Can tier three have something similar?”

Duran nodded again. “Reborn tier fives usually carry some of their domain with them when they reincarnate and can express it when they are tier three. If they don’t become climbers again, it’ll disappear after a couple of reincarnations.”

Orison said excitedly, “Gan has one!… I was planning on setting him up with someone I knew that regretted how they had done things. Do you think I should change that?”

Duran shrugged. “Depends if he was killed or chose to die. If it was the second one, he’ll never become tier four because his own soul wants to be renewed.”

“Are you having any luck with the soul conduit building exercise?” They asked after making an internal decision.

The boy nodded. “And it’s good that you discovered this way. Half of the problem of becoming tier five is the long time it takes to get rid of foreign influences in the body and soul. Chrism never fully belongs to you. A conduit made of chrism isn’t bad but it can slow things down with accidental contamination.”

Orison shook Their head in disbelief. “Why do so many climbers go crazy over getting some if that’s the case? I’ve been told it’s almost impossible to become tier four without it. Well, outside of special bloodlines.”

Duran added, “Or powerful external help. I’ve heard it too… It’s true, that’s why. You’ve spent long periods of time exposed to the knowledge of the afterlife. You’ve learned things that usually only tier fives can. Spiritual bloodlines and friendly tier fives do what you’re doing.

Orison sighed. “Spiritual debt. It all comes down to that… It’s just as well. My inner realm is more gluttonous than you and twice as picky.”

They ended the statement with a friendly fist tap to Duran’s shoulder. “I know your momentum building is going slow but do you have some room in your storage box for more magic items yet?”

Duran nodded. “Yes. I’m recovering abilities too. If you’re ever in trouble, no matter where you are, you can call on me. I have you designated as my charge.”

“I almost ate your spiritual mark when you did that, by the way. I thought some random entity was trying to brand me at first,” They grumbled.

After a meal and some chit chat. Orison took a trance and got busy again. One heavily gold lubricated senatorial meeting later and They had enough of a support to get started on building Evergreen Academy in earnest. Apparently, the Emperor was fully supportive of the idea. Three severed Domain elf heads had helped.

Once They had dropped off Patrick and some supplies, They were surprised to see Master Kretch already there. Not only that, but the old man latched onto Patrick like a withered leach. The old obsidian elf had instantly recognized something in the young Highlander that so many others had overlooked.

Later in the day, the four Summerland elves that had chosen to follow Orison from the villa had joined the effort along with two enchanted golems attuned to Master Kretch and Patrick respectively. A run for materials and supplies later, the process of clearing work was ready to begin. Everything wasn’t smooth in Evergreen Valley, however.

Hefty and Mellow had predictably found the only females in the valley and began affectionately harassing them, even the married one. With an apology and some material donations to the goat herders, They returned to the two malcontents. After an epic *ss chewing, They promised to take the two to an upper class establishment at the Centerland capitol if the goat herders or any other female who might show up in Evergreen had no complaints for a month.

“Claudius, I’m leaving you in charge. Nooo, there’s no grounds for pushing it at your brother. Corvinus, I need you to come with me to Whiteriver. You are going to be the cushion between me and the legate. I also will need you as a consultant for my audience with Lord Whiteriver, when I get one,” They said.

Corvinus saluted crisply and said with a bright smile, “It will be an honor to serve as your aid, sir.”

Orison returned the smile and said, “Go pack an off duty outfit and toiletries. We won’t be in official mode the whole time we’re gone, after all.”

As Corvinus ran off at a double time, Claudius chuckled and said, “You better be glad Centurion Calix didn’t hear that.”

The magician snorted, “HE better be glad he didn’t hear it. If he pinches a single girl’s backside while I’m gone, I’m going to personally tie him to a pole and flail his off… That aside, I have something very important to discuss with you.

“The Obsidian Elf fisher girl you are fond of is very early in a pregnancy. Wait!… Hear me out. It’s your brother’s but he wasn’t in his right mind at the time. She did it as a final kindness for him because she was moved by his suffering and grief.”

After a long pause, Claudius said sadly, “Then they should get married. My brother is an honorable man. He’ll do right by her.”

Orison said with a thoughtful frown, “Yes, he’ll make her very happy. Yes, he’ll stubbornly insist on doing the ‘right thing’ if he finds out but he’ll be miserable and you know why. He hasn’t been happy since he stopped getting responses from his pen pal. And you know damn well that the things he was talking about in those letters weren’t things that he did with his childhood ‘sweetheart’.

“You love Yulian and she loves you. I gave her the money to go it alone if she wanted to but she insisted on telling YOU. Not your brother, you. For the same reasons that your brother would insist, she’ll ultimately choose him if he does. If you can bear to take her as your wife BEFORE you tell him, both you and your brother can avoid regrets.”

Claudius looked at Orison in shock. “But that’s… How could I… Wouldn’t it be wrong? And how do you know all this?”

Orison let spirit shine through Their eyes for a moment. “I’m not psychic but there ARE things that I know from another ‘what if’ that’s constantly moving further away from its original route. Do you still want her or is keeping a secret for a little while too much a price to pay for a better ending?

“Yes, he’ll be mad but he’ll get over it once the two of you tell him how you feel. How the three of you decide to handle it from there isn’t that hard to manage. Just make sure the kid knows once she’s old enough to understand if there’s reason to keep it from her at all. That’s around seven, by the way. Not someone’s deathbed when she’s over thirty or something stupid like that.”

Seeing that the man was dithering and would eventually talk himself into a decision that would end up leaving both the brothers with regrets later in life, Orison said, “Here he comes. Oh, well. I guess he’ll eventually ask when he finds out and you’re still sitting on the fence. He’ll be miserably married to the person you love while you miserably watch from the shadows trying to convince yourself- That was fast!… You ready to go then, Centurion Corvinus?”

The younger brother, who was still trotting up from quite a distance away shouted his agreement while trotting a little faster.

Claudius, gripped in a moment of panic, Growled at a whisper, “Yes. Yes, I want her.”

Orison went to pat Claudius on the shoulder but the man flinched away.

With a complicated look in his eyes between the magician and Corvinus, he said, “Be… careful out there, little brother. Powerful people can be cruel to little guys like us when they get bored of you.”

Orison frowned. “Your big brother’s advice is wise, Corvinus. Too bad he’s giving it to you for the wrong reasons.”

In a spreading dome of light, the magician and the younger Tulius brother disappeared from under the surly man’s nose.

Walking towards Whiteriver Hall, Corvinus hesitantly asked, “What was that about? If you don’t mind me asking…”

The magician sighed, “I pushed him a little too hard to make a decision for happiness over misplaced feelings towards traditional ideas of what a responsible man should do, even if it makes them suffer needlessly. I think it gave him the impression that I did it because I have some… personal designs on you.”

The Centurion stumbled and fell back into order while red faced.

A few minutes later in a relatively empty stretch of road between the town and it’s lord’s hall, the man said in a quiet voice, “Do you… have personal designs on me?”

Orison chuckled. “Not personal ones, no. I do want to make sure that everyone I take under my wing gets what they need and want within reason. That DOES take conscious design from time to time.”

The mixed look of relief and mild disappointment was amusing to Them. That amusement barely kept Them from throttling the legate on sight. It was completely gone and had turned to agitation at how the Whiteriver Centerland ambassador was trying to squeeze out benefits which turned into another public thrashing for the man.

Orison thought, “Thank your lucky stars that killing you would be more trouble than it’s worth.”

As it turned out, a public brawl was like the magic password for a quick meeting with Lord Whiteriver. “When I heard that a boy barely pulled away from his mother’s milk jugs was trying to start an academy, I couldn’t believe my ears. Yet here you are, speaking diplomacy in the native language. Since you seem to be a fellow appreciator of directness, allow me to save us both some time.

“I’m inclined to agree but I’d like to see some of the affection you poured out to the fat senators down south. The archmage of our fine country’s own academy also had a couple details over magical trainings. There was something in the missive about representatives that I’d be happy to hammer out quickly as well… depending on your gold colored affection.

“And, please don’t reach for your belt. It would make for a fine joke but I just had the floors polished and I’d have to get angry. As a matter of pride, you see.”

Orison said, “I’d be happy to see you receive the same affection as the Emperor for the same twenty year stay before reevaluation. As for requests for representation, a decent scout to help us map out the unexplored regions and a solid, patient person with enough talent to cast mend would suffice. The second request would probably end up being a family person. I’ll shoulder all responsibilities for such.”

Gan was the first person that had came to the Lord’s mind for the first but it took some wrangling to swing Whiteriver around to Thorrinson. It seemed that the two were childhood friends and there was more than subtle hints of blood feud if something were to happen to ‘Skunk Butt’. The man was also a little more wary of Orison as well. They had revealed a little too much insider detail to get who They wanted.

Done with that, it was time for Gerrald to send the magician to speak with the archmage. Aside from a bit of monetary extortion from the old man that was in charge of the academy circle, there weren’t any major hangups to getting to the archmage’s office. The circle tender even managed to hold in his bladder while several apprentices helped remove the 250 gold coins pinning him to the wall.

Never one to give initiative to another the old Northland archmage said, “Apologies for your welcome. I was under the impression that it would take some time for you to get past Lord Whiteriver’s planned chicanery.”

Orison said, “Nothing seems to entertain that man more than a Centerland Legate getting beaten down by a young person.”

The archmage frowned. “Well, this is an academic institution and I expect that your display of short temper will stop at the circle tender.”

The magician smirked. “The display of my presence at this institution will hopefully only be required once. I’m willing to break bread as equals but I will not tolerate disrespect. Especially when it’s orchestrated to test my bottom line. You are no different than me in that regard.”

The archmage outright sneered. “You think yourself the equal of an archmage!?CHILD, you have-”

An overwhelming intent cut into the archmage’s spiritual seat and clasped his soul firmly. “No, I do not think myself the equal of a lowly archmage. I said I was willing to treat you as one but will not tolerate disrespect. Is the p*ssing contest completed or do I have to leave you stranded on the moon for a few months?”

To his benefit, the old man remained calm in the face of superior force. “What are your goals in all of this? Why even bother going through so many obstacles if you are a god?”

Orison’s intent loosened slightly in surprise but disjunctioned the nearly instant cast the archmage attempted to fling at Them. “In the difference of power between you and a god, I am only one of many. Humility grants the ability to see the world anew and can be turned into an opportunity for growth. Believe me. There’s plenty of things out there capable of doing to me what I’m doing to you in this moment and I never let myself forget that.”

They retracted Their intent as the archmage said, “I would appreciate an answer to the first question. No matter how powerful you or others may be, I have a responsibility to my king and country.”

The magician said, “I desire to build an academy whose responsibility is to the common good of ALL people, not a king or a country. You know, what the existing academies were intended but FAILED to be. That being said, no magic over journeyman level will be taught there.

“Master magics don’t have a place where practical knowledge is taught. Outside of Earth Golem, no war class magics will be taught there either. Additionally, I didn’t want to have a single country academy affiliated person within it. But since Centerland will have a journeyman spy there as a part of the healer’s course, I’ll accept one from here too. I believe there’s a journeyman here that’s highly proficient with copy and transference magic?”

The archmage said, “You know of Therridel? He’s quite capable of being a master any day.”

Orison nodded. “He’s also one of your secret disciples but has moved away from your disciplines. I want him because, if I must have a spy, I want one that will benefit the academy while they are there. He’s also an accomplished painter from what I hear. No place of learning is truly complete without a fine arts program.”

The archmage gave the magician a piercing gaze before throwing his hands up. “Fine! Take Theirridel. I’ve set up a package of general availability novice level spell books that are fairly standard for youths first starting. There are some seeds and a few starter shoots of plants useful to the healing arts, among other things… I’m not inclined to such generosity but the High King is and doesn’t want to seem any less broadminded than the Emperor.

“How you managed to fall into a crack between too powerful to ignore but playing by the rules enough not to need to fight is beyond me. You still have the Highlanders to contend with over property and the Domain isn’t going to sit idly by. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Wrapping up the meeting, a few official documents issued by the two academies and kingdoms required Orison’s attention. Once done with that, They collected the High King’s gift and was on Their way. The new addition in tow was still in the throws of acting like a creepy super fan but They knew the real reason after having hashed it out with Therridel before. Even though the magician wasn’t responsible for his father’s death, Therridel was informed of their actions afterwards and that seemed to fill in the gap.

As it was getting late once all was finalized back at Lord Whiteriver’s Hall, Orison decided to overnight at the town. The reason was more than just a desire to trance somewhere outside of a cave or pavilion tent. They had one very important stop to make. After getting Their retinue settled at the inn, Orison headed to Venito’s estate.