Chương 228: 5.26 Outreach

Irwyn woke up with a start and painful pressure in his chest. Like something deep within was actively struggling to break out, raging out of control. Fighting the confusion of just waking up Irwyn flooded himself with mana in an attempt to forcefully dispel whatever was causing the problem. That only made the feeling multiply. He felt on the verge of exploding. Then heard the phantom of a cracking noise. The shell. He realised with a start.

Reversing course, Irwyn instead contained his mana, an iron grip of control forcing it to still. Both in his body and Vessel as well as deeper within his Reservoir and Soul. He was less efficient with the latter, but it was still mana control, so he managed. And as the raging ocean calmed, so did the rumbling recede. Irwyn breathed a sigh of relief, then went to check the damage. He had already figured out what had happened. In the past, the visions had always brought with them a surge of power.

It was only expected for that to occur again. Except, Irwyn had never before been actively containing his power during that time. STARFIRE had been carefully suppressed for months, waiting for that one moment where revealing it would make all the difference. But perhaps that had been too much restraint. He peered within to observe the shell. There were cracks, but mending at a visible rate, at least from what he could see. His lacking ability to sense Souls meant that he would be blind to subtle issues.

One thing was clear to him, though. If he experienced another vision before breaking the shell, it would undoubtedly shatter at that time. There was no telling when that might be. But perhaps it would be for the best if he looked more actively for an opportunity to overturn a desperate situation with it. Part of him still worried about what kind of transformation would occur at that time, but he still felt confident that it would not be debilitating.

But perhaps the very occurrence of the vision meant that said opportunity was just around the corner. In the past, they usually held some kind of prophetic correlation for him, even if those were often only obvious in hindsight. But a dream about a sealed lich while they were investigating someone suspected of cooperating with the undead? That was a strong hint in one direction. Irwyn did not focus on analysing that just yet.

Instead, he walked over to the door which connected his room to Elizabeth's, knocked once, then entered. He found her lying on the nearest corner of her large bed, head dangling upside down off the edge.

"A late night visit?" She smiled at him, naked legs kicking out in a playful patern.

"How daring!"

"Privacy, please?" He asked. A moment later, he felt nothingness envelop the room as her spell took effect.

"I…"

"You could at least come and sit first." She patted the bed next to her, the invitation clear. He did not argue, taking a seat right next to her. Which Elizabeth immediately used to pivot sideways and lay her head in his lap while still otherwise sprawled across the bed.

"I had a vision," Irwyn said. He moved to pet her head, which earned him a pleased grin.

"Thought so," she nodded.

"And I would wager it had something to do with the Rot."

"Yes."

"We can basically assume that Illius is involved with the undead somehow, then. Tell me about it." And he did, describing the Dream as best he could. He would still present a somewhat sanitised version to the rest of the group, but Elizabeth was told exactly what he had gone to visit in the vision. Afterwards, there was plenty of conjecture to be had.

"That seems like a clear indication that the Rot is scheming something," Elizabeth said.

"The question is what. Illius releasing some kind of sealed undead seems too obvious. And implausible, I don't know if there even actually are any."

"It could also be about the conversation itself," Irwyn suggested.

"Questioning the reason for the First Betrayal much like we might question why Illius has betrayed the living. The message of the Dreams seems to often not be the most obvious one."

"I have my doubts about that. The Rot has to be more directly involved if most of the vision was basically speaking with the first of them all."

"Could Illius be undead somehow?" Irwyn asked.

"No. That is the first thing the Inquisition would have checked. Especially with how much scrutiny he has come under lately."

"But the undead notoriously just love to present false weaknesses, taking a loss hundreds of times just to set up one decisive ambush. What if there is actually such a method."

"I suppose," she replied, frowning.

"If there is a method that can bypass the scrutiny of several High Inquisitors I think it would be the very top of the list of figuring countermeasures for."

"Hence why they would have kept it hidden."

"Surely there had been other, better opportunities to use that over the centuries. The Rot is usually not that patient... or rather, patience is reserved for only the most cataclysmic schemes. It prefers to rely on variety to catch us off-guard. No one can have countermeasures for ten thousand different things, even if the Federation tries."

"Maybe the price is usually not worth it. Or strenuous conditions apply. But for someone with natural influence like Illius? That would be exactly the kind of target to pull those tricks out for."

"Even your nose had detected nothing. You had been in the same room multiple times. And while he has some influence, it is not to the level of spending a theoretical one-time ace on. Once a new trick is found out, it will be studied and at least some countermeasures prepared. If the Rot has any, they are being held back for when the Federation is on the brink of falling, not like this."

"Hmm, you are most likely right." Irwyn surrendered the point.

"Then maybe the 'imprisonment' from the dream directly correlates to Illius being practically held here in Spireholm. And like the undead were severed from its power, so is he now severed from his lifeless controllers."

"If that is the point of the vision, then maybe the whisper from the Betrayer is represented by someone still being somehow able to communicate with him then? That sounds much more feasible."

"How tightly is he guarded against that?"

"He is literally followed by a Domain mage that doesn't much like him. So it would be extraordinarily difficult… but every element has a way to convey messages somehow. A very esoteric prismatic one could perhaps bypass any detection when it comes to just communicating."

"The woman who had been in the office with him," Irwyn recalled.

"Exactly. I had some information delivered over the past few days. She is a wounded Domain mage like Dervish, though her injuries are much more physical. Some kind of remnant power preventing recovery, which thus has to be slowly ground down. Either way, she is notably hostile to Illius, but known to be professional enough to not act out on those feelings alone. So he is under constant watch from someone more powerful."

"She will still need to sleep sometimes," Irwyn pointed out.

"A few times a month at most. And she can always ask Dervish to cover for the few hours when she does, I presume. But we can subtly inquire."

"I don't think my vision will be taken as proof enough, though, will it?"

"It will convince Calm at least. And I think Dervish will take us at our word. But unless we make your visions very public, it will not work to get him actually executed. The most likely result is Dervish paying extra attention."

"Yes, I expected as much," Irwyn nodded.

"Hard way it is. Any plans for the ball?"

"I have a few." She smiled.

"I am not sure why he seems to hate me so much, but let's be absolutely infuriating." They discussed those ideas and then many other things over the hours before the artificial lighting within the tower announced the coming of dawn. Taking that as a sign, they went up to collect the rest of their group for an early-ish breakfast—much to Alice's tired grumbling. It was almost fascinating how she managed to be worn out most mornings, in spite of Conception reducing the need for sleep.

Irwyn went on with sharing his vision, or at least a slightly censored version as well as a few likely interpretations.

"I have something to confess," Desir spoke when Irwyn was done.

"It seems that I might be partially tapping into the visions somehow."

"Really?" Irwyn asked, startled. How would that even be possible? No, perhaps it was possible exactly because it was Desir. They still did not understand much of his constitution, but his very nature was a bizarre amalgam that constantly caused new surprises. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"What did you glimpse then?" Elizabeth wanted to know.

"Much less detail than what Irwyn did. Just a prison with stairs going downwards, a blurry skull, and words that I cannot remember even a single one of. So basically no actual information."

"Has that happened before?" Alice asked curiously. Elizabeth's eyes sharpened at the question.

"After Irwyn carved his first Concept," he nodded.

"I didn't really dare bring that up since we had been together for barely a few days back then, hope that is understandable. From that experience, I basically only remember some glimpse of a multicolored flame being extinguished with zero context, so even less than this time."

"I wonder what part of you would even allow for this," Elizabeth said thoughtfully.

"Do you also get to share in the boost in power?" Irwyn asked instead, with mostly genuine enthusiasm. He was a bit worried about the revelation, but he would have to think about how deep that should be. The main reasons he was not sharing the entire truth with the group were twofold. Firstly, his identity and the Name associated with it was absurd and he was doubtful the three of them would even be able to believe it.

Well, Waylan probably could, because he wouldn't get the full implications, but Alice and Desir would most likely assume he had to be mistaken. And if they did believe him, what would that do to their group? He had taken that plunge with Elizabeth, but doing so again left him discomforted. Secondly, he absolutely could not afford the Rot to get a hold of that knowledge.

Who knew how many Named Liches across the universe would drop everything just to come hunt him down as weak as he was compared to the possible harvest. The rest of their group were not as protected as him and Elizabeth from something subtly stealing secrets from their thoughts and memories. And the much more direct ways those could be taken, which Irwyn obviously did not want to contemplate overmuch.

"Perhaps," Desir answered after some deliberation.

"I think my Soul might have grown a bit overnight, but it's difficult to know for sure since I was not trying to keep track exactly. It either doesn't affect me, or the difference is relatively small."

"Good of you to share. And I will remember the honesty. For now, there is something else I had in mind to talk about," Elizabeth said.

"I have some thoughts for the upcoming ball, and I want Desir's opinions on them." The gathering was being held at the mansion of Elizabeth's older brother. Unlike almost all the other properties, it was actually large enough for a proper ballroom, as well as an extensive outdoor gazebo with a view of the gardens—again, a rare sight in Spireholm that went a step beyond even most nobility.

It became quickly apparent that it was not being attended by just people hosted directly by House Blackburg, but also by many who had traveled from other towers, or possibly outside the city. Irwyn mostly noted several groups gathered into borderline delegations with particular matching clothes and either pins or banners that seemed almost like those of a noble house. Instead, they were depicting the specialty of whatever spire they called home.

There were presumably also people being far less blatant, but those would not be as visible.

"It's like a competition," Desir opined from beside him. He and Alice would be entering together while Waylan lingered somewhere nearby. He had no idea where Alice had gotten the dress from, silver-hued with glittering motes of blue, but she looked less than comfortable in the attire. Meanwhile, Desir wore a black suit that seemed to fit him like a second skin. Hand in hand with Irwyn stood Elizabeth. Rather than a dress conjured from magic, she wore her once-usual enchanted one.

It fit her well, though anything would. Irwyn himself, in the meantime, had still opted for conjured clothes. He had at least aspired to make them somewhat more formal than usual. A suit of dimmed but distinct Starfire that created a nice contrast with Elizabeth's black. They approached the front gate alongside the crowds, though they were clearly noticed. A staff member with that very same uniform Irwyn remembered from his earlier visit brought them aside and allowed them entry with priority and escort.

That gathered some eyes, though their group was hardly the only one to receive special treatment. The guestlist was clearly extensive, and a percentage of any such social occasion would always demand extra privileges.

"His Lordship Brightbeak has not yet arrived," the staff member informed them while bringing them all the way to the main ballroom.

"Someone shall inform you once he has."

"Noted," Elizabeth said, though the rest of the walk was quiet afterwards.

"Not sure if it's the best idea to let the staff in on this," Desir opined once they were somewhat alone again. Privacy was harder in a crowd and magical privacy would be a bit of faux pas.

"They are trained to maintain secrecy," Elizabeth shrugged, unbothered.

"Nobility always underestimates how loose the lips of an average servant are. And how much they tend to overhear. But then, so will probably Illius."

"Come on, let's go for a dance while we can." Alice just rolled her eyes, then dragged Desir away.

"Remember that thing I suggested!" He reminded as he was taken away.

"Well, we do probably have some time," Elizabeth admitted.

"We are early, and Illius will likely be intentionally late, then cause a scene at the front gate just to terrorize the security."

"The magical punch has a pretty long line," Irwyn pointed out.

"It's as good of an excuse as any."

"Give it a few minutes, we need to be actually seen first. Let's go greet my brother." And so they did. They politely approached their host, who had a name that Irwyn would definitely pretend to remember if it became a conversation topic and wait for rescue. The man exchanged some polite words, then turned to someone else demanding his attention. Judging by the gaggle of sycophants surrounding him, the evening seemed rather busy. Afterwards, Irwyn went for the magical punch.

He doubted he would actually drink it—his old dislike for alcohol had not abated just because he was basically immune to the side effects now—but he needed to be separated from Elizabeth to set out the bait. Or so Desir had predicted. Once he got into the line, it only took a few seconds for someone to approach right behind him.

"Good sir, you wouldn't happen to be mage Irwyn, would you?" A woman asked, making him turn. The address felt a bit redundant with everyone in inner Spireholm had to be a mage by default, but he wisely did not point that out. She had all the aesthetic symmetry of conventional beauty as well as youth on her side, alongside a low-cut black dress. There was the emblem of some noble House he did not recognize subtly embroidered into it, depicting an upside down owl, or a similar bird.

"You would be, your ladyship?" Irwyn feigned surprise.

"Elanora von Uil, just Elanora please, pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"You have seemingly heard of me before," Irwyn pointed out.

"Yes, well, I overheard from lady Belfar that you have moved to this tower. Your prowess had amazed her."

"You can thank her for the compliment then," Irwyn feigned being flattered. He frankly had no idea who 'lady Belfar' was, but probably someone he had met over the previous few days.

"After hearing about your achievements at such a young age, I couldn't help but write home and see if my family has heard about you. You wouldn't believe my surprise when I heard about your full story!"

"Is it now?" Irwyn asked, mildly curious about her definition of the word 'full'. Instead, he glanced back towards the punch line. They were slowly getting close to the front already. She followed his gaze and hurried along.

"Finding out about my inquiries, my mother, a Maglord in high standing, actually reached back to me. Your achievements are the talk of many. If you accept it, she would love to help you put down the problems you have had with the law."

"Excuse me, your ladyship, if I take such promises with a grain of salt," Irwyn replied.

"I already only slipped away through sheer luck once before. House Fathomsight is not easy to dissuade."

"Of course, of course. But maybe an agreement could be brokered? I am sure it would be worth your while. After all, no one benefits when talent is squandered, except the Rot. I am sure even the most rigid of our nobility will see the truth of that. Especially if they are assured that the people in question might no longer side with their enemies."

"I could… perhaps think about it."

"Of course, there is no hurry during the war," she smiled, taking out a slip of paper.

"Please, my address here. So that we can correspond. Though, please be careful, a letter can get intercepted. Especially so far from home." Afterwards, it was his time to pour the punch into two glasses. There was no further contact as he returned to Elizabeth. Two magical drinks and one conspiracy richer than he had left. Elizabeth was pointedly not looking his way to avoid suspicion, though he was sure she had seen despite doing her best to act distracted.

"So?" She immediately asked.

"She said Von Uil, ring any bells?"

"The house of owls, unsurprising. They are one of my parents' major opponents. They currently have only a couple of Domain mages left in their bloodline despite the millennium's worth of treasures and influence that should have guaranteed a heftier crop. Still, they have many old friends and hidden meassures."

"Do they tame nocturnal birds?" Irwyn asked, more curious about that than the politics.

"No. They craft Void golems shaped mostly like owls. They had intermarried with someone important from the Duchy of White a long time ago and thus get a decent enough amount of Soul mages in their bloodline. Did she offer clemency?"

"Yeah, though not directly." Irwyn nodded.

"I think she bought that I might be interested, but I am not the best at the acting parts. She will probably get suspicious when I won't even remember her name the next time we meet. Ela… Ela-something. I should have told you first thing when coming back. Especially if I am trying to feign interest."

"Get Desir to coach you then. I can find out her name easily enough. She is not educated in subterfuge. Even approaching you like this would be considered on the edge of decorum for nobility. We don't need that much from her." Just proof. Proof that the people who could still technically try and hold him accountable for injuring Alira all the way back in Ebon Respite were completely willing to dismiss the case against him under the right circumstances.

The case had already grown rather flimsy by the mere fact that Alira had been executed for something treason adjacent, but if they could show that the other side clearly didn't think he was much of a threat at all, that could only help. Desir's idea, spawned from that moment in the Vault when Elizabeth's cousin had implied that at least some of the rival houses might be amenable to buying Irwyn's loyalty despite his past.

It was clear that they could not avoid detection completely, given where they had ended up, so they might as well be proactive. The branch houses would have limited influence in the Duchy of Teal, but they still had family members weathering the storm here who could receive instructions. The ball carried on afterward, though it was somewhat boring. The fun bits had been reserved for when Illius showed up as public displays were generally the best way to be noticed by the person who they wanted to antagonize.

That meant that they were mostly standing around while Elizabeth entertained a bunch of weak nobleborn children who were mostly interested in scouting potential coattails. An hour passed like that, then two. By that point it was well past the time where the gates would have closed and no guests should be admitted anymore. Surely Illius would show soon. But then more hours passed, yet they never received word from one of the staff of certain Brightbeak's arrival.

Instead, it was Elizabeth's elder brother who came to them, halfway through the night. Though his expression was serious, almost grim. As soon as he spoke, it became apparent why that was. An obvious thing in hindsight.

"Illius had not bothered to even come to the ball."