Author's Nightmare: Chapter 143 (Patreon)

Shango POV: Day 123

Current Wealth: 255 gold 42 silver 33 copper

There was something different about Lord Viras. I didn’t feel it, I rarely got gut feelings in general, it was more that I…Saw it. Calculated it. All of his responses, the little flashes of emotion that naturally lived in a person’s face, were too long in happening and lasting. His words stuck together with more symmetry and logic than was natural. It seemed like everything about him was an artifice. 

And it was a damned good one. Better than I could do, when I let myself untether and focus purely on strategy. Much better. This here was a master in the same field I’d been making a study of. I was tempted to try and learn a thing or two. 

“You know, I’ve sacrificed quite a bit of myself to get what I want, how I want, where I want.” Viras spoke differently now that we were alone, more flatly. It was like someone had taken the voice of a man and stripped it of everything other than the simple, bare facts of what it was conveying. Like some binaric expression of human thought, cold and inorganic where ordinary speech was hot and…

Animalistic? I was going to think animalistic.

That had been a strange reaction on my part, but I wasn’t given chance to dwell on it. Viras was speaking still. 

“You share that, don’t you?” He asked. “That calmness in the face of what must be done. How else could you have done what you did to Byror and remained so unflappable now?”

I wasn’t taken aback by the accusation, throwing something like that at someone and studying their immediate reaction was one of the basic plays in my own book. And without that crucial surprise, its effect was blunted.

“I am aware of the rumours, but I truly have no idea what you’re talking about.” I told him. Viras smiled, the way statues that had been carved into the expression did. 

“It was cleverly executed.” He continued, as if I’d not even spoken. “But you are young. Unmentored, I imagine? Everyone needs a mentor. My own was Azelis.”

The statement was like a fist in the gut. Azelis was a figure in our books, a long-dead magus of incredible power and genius. Essentially Redacle’s Merlin- or one of them at least- responsible for codifying so much of magic into its modern structures.

It was not a good thing to meet someone personally mentored by him. Not at fucking all. For one thing, it meant Viras was older than he looked. Because Azelis had died a lot more than fifty years ago. Magi with supernaturally long lives often achieved as much through bargains,more often than not, faustian ones. 

“Thank you for your offer.” I said, quietly. “But I must refuse.”

Azelis had taken only thirty disciples, less than half of which we’d actually named in the books. It was entirely possible Viras was telling the truth, and if he was he would be one of the more powerful magi in the world. Top one thousand, perhaps even stronger. Strong enough to kill Corvan even if a dozen more Corvans attacked at once. 

But I couldn’t risk associating with him, or giving him the chance to access our materials. 

My answer seemed to surprise the man- the magus- enough that it actually showed a crack across his chisel-made face. 

“That is an interesting response.” He noted. “There are not many who would turn down alliance with one such as myself. Or do you disbelieve me?”

“I don’t know what to believe.” I told him flatly, realising the mistake just a moment after it was out of my mouth.

“So then, it does not matter to you even if I am who I say I am.” He frowned now, thinking. “Interesting. Very interesting. What sort of magics has your family created since you last engaged in battle, that you are more fearful of my learning their secrets than you are eager to learn the teachings of Azelis himself?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, he was good. Dangerously good. Of course he was, his amount of experience, with magic slowing the ravages of time on his brain, meant his potential as a thinker was, theoretically, superhuman. I’d misstepped once already, I couldn’t afford to do it again. 

“You’re too dangerous to ally with.” I lied. “Students of Azelis are noticed, students of students of Azelis are noticed. Even if you aren’t advertising it at will, there’ll be powerful people who know. If they see you teaching another, I become a target. I can’t take that risk.”

It was perhaps the best lie I could have come up with, as told as well as any might have been in this situation. And were it almost anyone else I’d have been confident about seeing it swallowed. But Viras didn’t look convinced.

“So quick-witted.” He breathed. “Truly, I must have you as my student, you’re simply too dangerous not to. I ask again; will you accept tutorship under me?”

It was honestly tempting. If I was learning as fast as I was with some roughly-average hedge magus as my teacher, I shuddered to think what I might do under Viras. Would I make the same progress in half the time? A third? Even less? What secrets did Azelis pass onto him which I couldn’t get anywhere else?

But all the best traps had a tempting lure, and I wasn’t stupid enough to let that distract me. 

“I’m sorry.” I said, actually earnest, now, to my own surprise. “But I can’t accept this offer.”

Viras looked at me with a touch of what, I thought at least, was genuine sadness. He shook his head slowly.

“Then I am afraid I must destroy you.” He whispered.

I met his eye.

“Yeah. I have to destroy you, too.” I replied, just as regretful. 

Odd that, that sense of regret. I barely knew Viras, and what I did know of him painted a picture of sociopathic apathy and murderous ambition. But I felt reluctant to kill him. I realised why only as he was walking away. Viras was like my father. Not my actual father, he was like a father I would have had, if I’d been given the luxury of a parent who was to me what others’ were to them. The master to my student.

And he would have to die, I knew that without question. Because he was just too dangerous to leave alive. I stared down at my hands. My lessons in magic had continued of course, and continued fast. Most magi took twenty years to become average. I was almost average after a few months. 

But Corvan was still stronger by far. How long would it take for me to equal him? Months more? A year?

How much longer, then, to equal Viras? Several years at least. Maybe a decade. Maybe more depending on his age. Magic was a slow thing to learn, and he’d had over half a century’s head start, as well as enough talent to attract Azelis himself's eye. And I’d gotten us into a conflict with him. What had I been fucking thinking? 

Beam came over, looking somewhat uncertain, and stopped just beside me.

“So.” He started. “How did it go?”

I thought about it.

“Badly.” I croaked. “Very, very badly.”