Chương 101: Chapter 98: Holy Gaucamole, it's Blasphemy

"Francis. Good to see you again, old friend."

It wasn't often Headmaster Veloran's schedule opened up at the same time as Bishop Larkin's. He was overseeing the rebuilding efforts in the Academy District after The Destroyer passed through, which was, fortunately, extremely minimal, considering the size of the mythical beast. Truth be told, Veloran wasn't sure what to believe about the creature, other than it could, theoretically, exist. Enough eyewitnesses in the past had given shoddy and half-remembered accounts to make it credible, but dubious.

Though, as a weapon of the gods, The Destroyer was immune to his opinions on its existence.

"Likewise, Izrizar. I'm glad you could make it. I hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience asking you to come all this way."

The worst of the cleanup had already been handled. After the attack was over, the Queen had contracted every [Mage] in the Academy, no matter their specialization, to assist in rebuilding. Veloran oversaw transportation and transmutation. Much of the rubble could be recycled into usable materials, so long as someone with the skills was around to do the work.

After a full day and a half of organizing teams of people with inflated egos, he could finally leave conducting the madness to his subordinates and take a much-needed break. Just in time, too, as he had not yet decided what to do for lunch, when a messenger from the Bastion of Light knocked on his office door. It was an invitation from his old friend and adversary, the Bishop. Veloran put aside the growing desire for a lavish feast and sent his response.

A trip to Abbyton was worth the humble fare of its kitchens, and he could investigate the rumors of a new dish being offered at Penny's at a later date.

"What inconvenience?" Veloran laughed.

"With the addition of Abbyton's [Aetherstone], such distances are trivial. With enough time, I would have mastered a [Teleportation Anchor], but this saves me so much time and effort. And for such a reasonable price, too."

"I'm sure the Transportium don't find it so reasonable," Bishop Larkin chuckled.

"They've just finished building a new depot in Abbyton and I've already had an earful of grumbles. Something about not being able to set the pricing, though how the system integrates with [Aetherstones] is beyond me. Perhaps that line of research is more to your liking…?" Veloran shook his head.

"There aren't enough hours in the day, sadly. I do believe now is a good time to make a joke about [Temporal] magics."

"Yes," Francis laughed dryly.

"So long as the punch line ends up with your untimely demise."

"Quite!" Velroan laughed.

"Now! I don't mean to disparage your lovely [Aetherfountain], but I believe your note said something about lunch."

"It also said something about research," the Bishop mused.

"Would you prefer to start there?" Veloran felt his eyes wander toward the [Moai] guarding the fields, and his greed to study the unknown beat back his hunger.

"Perhaps, just a few moments," he said weakly.

"Perhaps," the Bishop laughed.

Veloran and Larkin made small talk as they followed the dirt path leading around the side of the abbey. It had only been a week or so since Veloran's last visit, but it seemed like so much had transpired that it felt like years. The two [Moai] heads stared stoically out into the distance, and several brothers from the abbey worked the fields. Veloran nodded; this was good. Multiple harvests from a pair of enchanted [Planters] were a very good sign.

He knew setting down the early groundwork for a research station was a good idea. They'd be able to further their knowledge of arcane writing greatly from a powerful working like this, if it didn't start to decay. And speaking of the research station, no longer was it a small table sitting on the packed dirt under a makeshift shade. Veloran nodded in approval.

"I see you've upgraded the field outpost," he said shrewdly. When he was last here, the small pavilion had just been fitted with crude walls. Now, it looked like a proper building made of carefully laid bricks instead of a gardener's tool shack.

"Mmm," Francis nodded.

"I think you'll be quite pleased. One of the students installed a cooling device, so now we can keep it fully sealed and don't need to worry about weather damage to the notes or heat causing any of the [Scholars] to pass out.

"If they can't handle a little summer heat, are they really fit to be called field researchers?" Veloran scoffed.

"No," Francis laughed.

"Because they aren't. They're used to lofty offices with proper ventilation, not a cupboard next to a field."

"They should be lucky to spend time in this cupboard," Veloran scoffed. His envy of the [Scholars] who had made the abbey their new home was quite well known. If he didn't have so many responsibilities as the Headmaster, he'd practically live here, too. Most of the researchers were taking lunch, but, being fanatics, they decided to eat around the station.

However, they were not allowed to eat inside the station, because after the first time somebody had spilled some stew onto a parchment filled with notes, the offended parties nearly demanded a duel. Needless to say, the abbey did not wish to host a group of temperamental [Mages] and told them that if they resorted to violence, they could go study elsewhere. Many gripes and grumbles were had, but a truce was made, and food was banned from being taken inside the building.

The [Scholars] saw the Headmaster and the Bishop approaching and hastily got up. They quickly gave a rundown of their reports, the advancements they'd made, and the various schools of magic they'd begun compiling reports on. There was so much to do, so much to see, that they were running low on paper. Books and journals were in high demand, as they were being filled faster than they could be shipped out.

A few cheeky [Scholars] subtly requested an advance to purchase more equipment alongside the standard supplies, to which Veloran agreed with a chuckle. So long as things remained productive, it was a worthy expense. In fact, because of the progress over the last month, he was certain the Academy would see a surge of advanced enrollment as [Scholars] published theses and postulated theories.

There was so much to learn here; he wasn't even worried about other universities learning of their work and trying to steal it. Let them come and help. After briefly chatting about their work inside, the [Scholars] gave a report on the work outside.

"Hmmm," Veloran rubbed his chin eagerly.

"So the [Planters] are stable? There's no risk of overuse?"

"None that we've encountered so far," one of the researchers said.

"We've taken soil samples after every harvest and there doesn't appear to be any instability."

"Fantastic," he muttered.

"All while continuing to function inside a working space-expansion zone. That's good news."

"It bodes well for the [Greenhouse], too," Francis said.

"Speaking of which, I believe some trees are starting to mature. The first yield should be flowering soon."

"Already?" Veloran asked in surprise.

"I understand that the [Greenhouse] is clearly a relic, but trees and wheat are different matters. I would have assumed, even if it contained similar enchantments, that we wouldn't be seeing any results for at least a year."

"My guess was closer to a month," Francis said ruefully, "And we were both wrong. After [Celestara's Tree] began to sprout, we knew the [Greenhouse] was adored by the gods, but I'm beginning to think it has more than one blessing. It is clear to me that both Ghelt and Moore have their hands in this."

"[Celestara's Tree]?" Veloran asked. It seems he'd been too reserved with his visits if he'd fallen this far behind. He'd heard no tales of a tree named after the goddess. Though that could also be a nickname given by the workers. This was, after all, an abbey filled with pious men. As for Ghelt and Moore… it made sense that the gods of magic and planting would take an interest in the [Greenhouse].

And so, with that topic now firmly on their minds, Veloran and Francis thanked the [Scholars], left the station, and walked behind the abbey.

As soon as the pair entered the [Greenhouse], they were hit by a blast of cool air. It wasn't cold, per se, but compared to the blistering heat outside, the [Greenhouse] was incredibly refreshing. And weren't normal greenhouses supposed to be humid? Veloran felt his lungs clear up as he took a deep, satisfying breath of crisp, cool air. But that was only the first surprise out of many. When he'd poked his head inside before, nothing had been planted. It was, for all intents and purposes, an empty warehouse.

Now, there were rows and rows of trees that stretched on for miles, each clearly divided into groves. The closest set of trees on his right reminded Veloran of oranges and he wondered if they were some sort of citrus. He moved to take a step, but before he could take a step, the Bishop held out a hand to stop him.

"Remove your shoes," Francis commanded. Veloran glanced at his old friend, but the Bishop was dead serious. The Headmaster shrugged mentally but did as he was told. When in another man's house, a guest was to follow the rules. He didn't foresee soiling his socks during this trip, so it might make for awkward questions when his staff got around to today's laundry. As soon as he did what he was told, Bishop Larkin took hold of his arm and led him to the left.

There, upon a raised hill of verdant grass, stood a single, golden tree. Veloran didn't know how he could have missed such an awe-inspiring thing, though he rationalized it by claiming it was hiding behind what appeared to be a foreman's station. Francis led him around the podium filled with multiple schematics and a guard watching over a heavy safe, stopping him in front of the hill. The tree (and the field it was on) were roped off, and a beautiful path of dressed stone leading to it was carefully tended.

The Bishop dropped to his knees on the soft grass at the base of the hill and quietly muttered a prayer.

"Celestara, thank you for this gift to us in these trying days. Please continue to shine your light upon us…." Veloran mimicked him, though perhaps his thoughts about the tree were slightly less pure. Has Celestara always been interested in trees? Was there some sort of divine overlap he was not aware of? Veloran had never heard of the Goddess of Light blessing a tree before, but the evidence before his eyes was undeniable.

[Celestara's Avocado Tree] Level: 0 Rarity: Divine Produces: [Celestial Avocados] Some elves cultivate World Trees; some elves bless avocados. The value of either may be up for debate.

Veloran crinkled his eyes and slowly turned to stare at his friend, judgingly.

"Is this what you were referring to by avocados?" he asked. Not that Veloran could find any fault with the divine tree, but now he was hungry and slightly upset. He very much doubted a Bishop of Light would allow him to eat a [Celestial Avocado].

"Yes," Francis said, clearly ignorant of Veloran's inner turmoil. He stood up and followed the path to the tree. Veloran huffed and locked himself a step behind. The hill the tree sat upon was small, but during that short walk, even Veloran began to understand the reverence his friend showed. Clearly, this tree was touched by a goddess, if not Celestara, then certainly someone else. Perhaps Moore?

"Behold," Francis said with a slightly trembling voice, bringing Veloran back to the present. The Bishop raised his shaky hands toward a low-hanging branch, and Veloran let out a gasp.

[Celestial Avocado] Level: 0 Rarity: Divine This is a quest item. Somebody might be interested in this.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Not all that glitters is gold. Against all odds, sometimes it's avocado.

Veloran did his best to ignore the system's bizarre flavor comment… just as he struggled to ignore his own worldly desires. Izrizar Veloran was not a greedy man, but the object before him tested him greatly. It took all of his considerable willpower and restraint to keep himself from reaching up and plucking the [Avocado]. That description did not lie. Somebody was absolutely interested in this. Namely, Izrizar Veloran. And, he assumed, anybody with half a brain.

First, the [Avocado] appeared to be made of solid gold. If that were true, which Veloran did not believe, then it was worth a small fortune. It wasn't a small [Avocado] either. Unlike the shriveled things he sometimes saw in exotic market stalls which were hardly larger than a chicken's egg, this thing was enormous. It was closer to the size of a [Strider] egg, meaning it was about as large as a man's head. No wonder there was only a single fruit on the tree…

and the branch it hung from dipped heavily under the weight. Next, Veloran could feel power radiating from the [Avocado]'s core. Was that its seed? Was it something else? He was dying to split it open and start researching. And maybe eat it. Just a tiny bit. What would it taste like? Normally, produce much larger than the species' norm had been artificially enhanced with magic, becoming tasteless and bland. There wasn't a world in which Veloran could imagine [Celestara's Avocado] being bland.

Would it be buttery smooth? A hint of nutty flavor? It might go well with a dash of salt and a squeeze of lime. Perhaps mix it into a fresh salad…?

"Do not commit sacrilege, brother," a stern voice warned. Both Veloran and Bishop Larkin turned to see a guard approach. Veloran gave the man a once-over…rank 5. That was good. The abbey seemed to be taking the responsibility of protecting this tree seriously.

"Ah," Francis wiped his mouth on his sleeve as he turned sheepishly around. Had he been drooling?

"Forgive me. I was just showing the Headmaster of Arcanus Scholastia around. It's been a while since he's seen the new developments." Veloran perked up and nodded sagely. Sometimes, he felt he had to act more stoic and contemplative whenever somebody mentioned his status. The guard nodded, saying nothing, but he continued to watch the men as they observed the tree.

"So," Veloran asked the question that was burning in his mind.

"When will it actually be picked? And by whom? I sincerely doubt you, of all people, would allow a divine fruit to wither on the branch."

"We are waiting for the [Saint]," Francis sighed. Veloran nodded in understanding. If anybody had the authority to pick the [Avocado], it was her. Not caring to linger under the watchful eyes of the attentive guard, the men left the [Greenhouse]. Veloran suggested exploring deeper inside, but Francis shook his head and chuckled. Walking from end to end of the [Greenhouse] was an all-day affair.

It made for an excellent place to walk early in the morning for silent contemplations, but it was best not tested on an empty stomach. Instead, they made their way outside.

"We're entering into new territory," Francis said gleefully, rubbing his hands together. Veloran raised a brow in interest. It wasn't like his friend to be so openly…mischievous. Veloran's curiosity burned bright, but he couldn't begin to guess what the next surprise might be. If, as he assumed, this was the work of the visiting dragon disguised as a gnome, then it could be truly anything. Especially as they started walking away from the [Greenhouse], and Veloran stopped dead on the spot.

"Francis!" he cried, throwing his hand out to grab his friend's arm.

"Do you feel that?!" Veloran knew a new leyline had been created underneath the abbey, but he never imagined he'd step into its currents and feel a thrum of power like a river after a storm overflowing with rapids.

"Yes, yes," Francis said testily.

"And I assume you'll be more interested in that, but wait a moment! There's something I want to show you first!"

"So you mean to tell me you're more interested in something else than this font of power?" Veloran narrowed his eyes.

"Francis, you've changed. Where is your dedication to the craft? When we were students, we'd have traded anything to experience such a phenomenon firsthand."

"Now don't be hasty," Francis shook his head.

"Wait until you see what's next before judging me too harshly."

"Whatever it is, it has to be good," Veloran grumbled.

"If you're making me miss out on whatever needs such a current to power it…." In truth, Veloran could feel the power's pull against the natural flow, indicating it was bound to a magical working. A very strong one, too…it would take a dozen [Mages] to control mana of this quality and quantity. Maybe a couple of [Archmages], even. Oh, the rituals he could perform with a steady font like this….

"This had better be good," Veloran muttered, so distracted that he wasn't paying very good attention to his surroundings. In fact, he took an arbitrary step, and the world was plunged into darkness!

"Behold!" Francis cried as Veloran's head jerked up.

"A [Moonwell]!" Veloran's jaw fell completely open as he was left speechless. He blinked. Twice. He rubbed his eyes. His jaw closed… and it fell open. But no words came out. Before him, shrouded by darkness and bathed in the light of the moon, was an honest-to-gods [Moonwell]. A treasure of the elves, blessed by the goddess of the moon, these sacred pools did not appear randomly in the wild, and never outside of elven lands.

Veloran took an unsteady step forward, disoriented as he was, and was grateful when Francis quickly placed a hand on his shoulder to stabilize him. He stepped into the shallow waters of the initial wading pool, uncaring that his boots were instantly soaked through. His socks were already dirty, so what was a little water? He could dry them out easily enough. And this water…. It was the purest water he'd ever seen. Crystal clear, Veloran felt purified just touching it.

He cupped a handful, brought it to his lips, and drank deeply. He felt waves of exhaustion wash away as he was flooded with vigor. He let the remainder of the liquid slip between his fingers, sparkling in the moonlight like a miniature shower of stars.

"How is this possible…?" Veloran muttered.

"The dragon," Francis said grimly.

"Though for what purpose, nobody knows."

"Impossible," Veloran shook his head.

"Even for a dragon. Especially for a dragon. Unless I am mistaken, I believed the dragons were not on good terms with the pantheon?"

"Most do tend to see themselves as something closer to a god than mortal," Francis replied.

"But, as we discussed last time, I believe there might be some truth to that with this particular dragon."

"Indeed," Veloran agreed, "But a [Moonwell] outside of elven lands…wait. The [Saint]! She's traveling with the dragon, isn't she? Perhaps she interceded? Surely, if anyone could convene with the gods, it would be Eluna Brandywine…oh. Oh gods," Veloran's eyes went wide. He stared at the Bishop fearfully.

"Her name, Francis. It's Eluna. In some elvish cultures, that's another name for the goddess of the moon. Is she…?"

"Not an incarnation, so far as we can tell," Francis shook his head.

"Everything we know historically of the [Saint] tells us she was wholly devoted to Celestara."

"Is a name like that truly a coincidence?" Veloran asked. Francis gave him a serious look.

"In the beastkin lands, it isn't uncommon to name one's child after the god of merchants. Kelly, Calla, Calliope…there are many variations, though it isn't often the proper name of Kellis is used." Francis stared into the deep pool thoughtfully.

"Not so for the elves. I feel they will see it as blasphemy."

"Is that how they viewed her in the past?"

"I'm afraid I don't know," Francis sighed.

"As far as I know, the [Saint] spent most of her days adventuring with the heroes. When she wasn't, her home was in Horizon. Perhaps she was an exile. But that's not what really concerns me."

"And that is…?"

"What will the elves do when they find out about this?" He said, waving his arm at the pool.

"I have no doubts they have already. The dragon created the pool only a couple of days ago, but it has had many visitors. A few of which were traveling merchants and traders who are friendly with the elves. I'm sure the news has already spread."

"And so they come," Veloran said.

"And so they come," the Bishop sighed.

"I can only hope we don't have a holy war when they get here."

"Maybe you should just point them at the dragon," Veloran said darkly. Francis laughed and brightened up.

"Perhaps I will! And with that, I believe it's time to see the final item on today's agenda."

"Besides lunch."

"Of course."

Francis and Izrizar stepped out of the pool, and the Headmaster cast a cantrip to dry their clothes. It was slightly disorienting stepping outside of the veil of moonlight back into the middle of the afternoon sun, but nothing Veloran couldn't handle. The Bishop led them away from the pool, away from the abbey and the [Greenhouse] toward their final destination. As they walked, the current from the leyline grew stronger. As it grew stronger, Veloran grew increasingly excited.

"What is it, Francis?" He asked giddily.

"Do you know? Will you not say?"

"And spoil the surprise?" Francis chuckled.

"I haven't seen you like this in years."

"I haven't felt like this in years," he laughed back.

"And after a dip in that [Moonwell], I almost wonder if a few of them haven't been given back."

"Mmm," Francis agreed.

"It is rejuvenating. But alas, the effects are only temporary. We haven't discovered a fountain of youth."

"For the best," Veloran sighed.

"I shudder to think what the gods would do if they discovered one of their own secretly provided a way for mortals to achieve immortality. Lesser transgressions have caused greater calamity. I don't think I could handle a surprise of that caliber at the moment."

"Well, I hope you'll be able to handle this, at least," Francis said. As they walked along the leyline, the power remained steady. But after they passed a threshold, the empty field in front of them was suddenly not so empty. Veloran froze, gasped, and pointed forward.

"An [Obliteration Veil]?!" Indeed, out of nowhere, a gigantic purple dome materialized. Two steps previous, and there was nothing. Nothing but an empty field. But once he got within a certain range, the powerful magical workings became visible.

"Ah, so I was right?" Francis grinned. He nudged Veloran's arm playfully…because he himself had gone through this same feeling of shock when he discovered it.

"But… how? Why?" Veloran asked. [Obliteration Veils] were not simple magics. They were not things that common [Mages] could just… go out into the world and plop down. For one, they were power-intensive. Usually, it took teams of [Mages] channeling Ritual Magic constantly to maintain. Teams. As in, more than one. Or a dedicated leyline. Veloran had once, and only once, been tasked with maintaining [Obliteration Veil].

Long ago, when he first became an [Archmage] but before he stepped into his position as headmaster, there was a need. A group of explorers set out to scout the lava plains of the Ashlands, filled with deadly threats. The details of that early expedition were unimportant, but it took 8 rank 7 [Mages] constantly cycling their mana to keep the [Veil] operational.

It was exhausting, bone-wearying work to maintain a sphere about 40 feet in diameter, but with it, anything placed inside was effectively invisible and untraceable. Without it… they would have been discovered instantly and devoured. The purple dome in front of them was easily 10, maybe 20 times the one he'd helped create. By his estimation, a [Veil] of this size would probably take everything a hundred [Mages] could throw at it to keep it up for an hour, maybe two. But… the things they could hide inside it….

"Francis," Veloran said in a serious voice, "Has anybody gone inside?" The question was more of a way to determine if it was dangerous, more than asking who'd gone in. Without knowing what was on the other side of the wall, it would be foolish to try and trespass.

"Yes," Francis sighed explosively. By the tone of the man's voice, he sounded more resigned than shocked, which confused Veloran.

"And they came out safely?" he balked.

"It's actually quite translucent once you get closer," Francis said grumpily.

"But nobody would ever know it's here unless they were looking for it."

"So who found it?"

"The children." Veloran stopped dead. Francis turned to look at him and shrugged helplessly.

"Francis. What are the children doing all the way out here?"

"Do you recall the gnome turning back into her true form?" Francis asked wryly.

"How could I forget?"

"Well, the children found her," he said grimly.

"And it seems she's fond of them. Look." The Bishop pointed to what looked like a nearby sign, and as Veloran got closer, he felt lightheaded.

[Dragon's lair] This was where the dragon slept. And…apparently…made herself a new home.

"Is this…true?" He asked weakly. What with the recent attack from The Destroyer, Veloran wasn't sure they needed a dragon taking up residence in the kingdom's backyard. Though, from what the Queen had said, he was expecting more representatives from World's End to arrive in the coming weeks. A visit from The Destroyer likely merited it.

"Yes," Francis said.

"Come." The two men approached the bubble. As they drew within a dozen paces, the barrier started to thin. The opaque purple walls grew transparent and eventually disappeared. As they did, Veloran's brain finally caught up with him, and he went slack. He laughed out loud, a manic, depressed sort of laugh, as he saw what awaited him inside. Enormous piles of gold. Gigantic mountains of silver. Towers of copper taller than a brawny man. Enough riches to create a kingdom. Just… sitting in a field… behind the abbey.

He entered the bubble effortlessly, as it didn't even try to prevent him from stepping in. He bent down, picked up a handful of coins, and let them fall. They tinkled pleasantly as they cascaded down the pile. Nearby, perhaps 10 feet away, a suit of armor peeked out from the depths of a hill like a man snuggling underneath a blanket on a cold winter's day. He wanted to laugh. Or cry.

"Such arrogance," he sighed in awe, "Even for a dragon. She just… left this here?" Francis didn't share his disbelief. But instead of explaining, he picked up some coins and threw them at the barrier. They bounced harmlessly off, and for the first time, Veloran noticed how the piles of coins ended in a perfect circle… at the boundary of the [Veil]. A nearby pulse caught his attention after he tried removing some coins of his own. After several moments of digging into the pile, he discovered a [Mithril Rod].

So that's how it was. The bubble was enchanted to keep things in place… for a very, very long time. Valoran knew a few things about dragons, having been in a position of power. They adored shiny things and coveted wealth, so seeing a dragon's den filled with treasure was expected. The more powerful the dragon, the more ancient the family, the greater the wealth. It was as much of a mark of status for them as their levels. But this was just ridiculous.

This was like a king loading his treasury into a carriage and taking it down to a homeless encampment, setting up a tent, and flaunting his worth. Who was this dragon trying to compete with? Who was she trying to impress? Though… Veloran would be lying if he said he wasn't impressed. Both he and Bishop Larkin climbed over several mountains of gold to examine the fossil of an ancient monster. Whoever killed that thing was fearsome indeed, though at this point Veloran was feeling a little numb. And very hungry.

But as they turned to return to the abbey and partake in lunch, a thought occurred to him.

"I hope you're prepared, Francis," he said.

"It seems a dragon has claimed Abbyton as her home."