Chương 196: 20. A Good Omen

We're not entering the cave right away, since we still need to establish camp and secure the area. The cliff forms a natural windbreak and the ground here is more stoney than lower down in the rainforest. We still haven't climbed high enough to be completely clear of the mud and rain, but it's a nice plateau and raising the tent goes smoothly. Talla offers to give me a moment to rest and work on the new spells while she does a preliminary sweep of the area to check for signs of the break.

I have to remind myself that the mouth of the cave isn't the entrance to the dungeon, but rather where the entrance is hidden, but nevertheless make her promise to stay within earshot, just in case. She agrees, and with my worries mostly assuaged, I'm free to sit and meditate for a bit, turning the skills over in my mind as I contemplate how to turn them into useful spells. [Magical Awareness] seems like as good a place as any to start.

Of all my headmates, I have the weakest natural ability to sense the magic in the world around us. Even Allie, despite having sworn off magic entirely, is more sensitive to the otherworldly. Shoring up that weakness should help keep me from being dead weight while Talla checks over the seal on the convergence point, and might even improve my overall understanding of magic. When I try to picture the spells in my head, they always appear to me as puzzles.

Each one is unique, and though any good puzzle only has one real solution I can occasionally reframe the goal of a puzzle to redefine what actually counts as "solved." It's not as flexible as Eva's cooking analogy or whatever it is that Maggie does, but it works for me. This particular spell feels like a perspective puzzle. A trick of angles and focus, almost more optical illusion than actual puzzle. Solving it is a matter of finding the right way to look at it, in order to reveal the shape hidden within.

The difficulty comes from not knowing what that shape actually is—not to mention the limitations of my own imagination. Still, with this sort of puzzle, it's simple enough to take it on with a methodical approach, carefully shifting and rotating it within my mind, going through each angle one at a time, careful not to waste time on repetitions. Tedious, in a way, like the bar and chain puzzle Anna left me, but relaxing.

All I have to do is go through the motions, one step at a time, until— [Pyrognosis] Conjure a magical flame, through which you can read signs and omens. —it clicks. Hm, fortune telling wasn't quite what I was hoping for, but I'll try not to write it off too quickly. I think I still have time for one more before Talla returns, so I focus on the next.

[Protect the Innocent] is the evolution of a skill that's been one of my signatures since close to the beginning, back when my idea of exploiting the mechanism was convincing it that acting in defense of my headmates counted as "protecting others." I've since learned that torturing definitions like that is the least of the ways one can stretch the abilities the [World Engine] grants us, and [Retaliation] has already been worked into my [Smouldering Embrace] spell.

That one is fairly tame, but useful, and I'm hoping that the higher tier and more focused purpose of [Protect the Innocent] will lead to something more powerful. This one is like a puzzle box—all secret compartments and hidden mechanisms, keeping the prize within safe. One at a time, I strip away its secrets to reveal the final key and open the box.

[Ignite Spirits] Light a fire in the hearts of those around you, granting them a temporary blessing that increases your Power, Resilience, and Will for each person that accepts. That's a more abstract application of fire than I'm used to seeing from these, but I welcome the change. It's very similar to the skill it was born from, though with both more potential and greater limitations.

It requires both an investment of my own magic to maintain the spell, and for those who accept the blessing to invest some of their own energy to empower me. There is, however, no stated limit on the number of people I can grant the blessing to, though I imagine that after a point the cost to cast or maintain the spell would be too much for me to handle. The biggest limitation of this version is probably the fact that those I bless need to be aware and willing—it's no help at all if an ally is incapacitated.

Still, I might be able to apply it to my headmates. We'd all be drawing from the same well of energy, but it could still let me magnify the effects. I can already hear Talla returning from her inspection, so I'll have to save the rest for later, but almost out of habit, I reach for one more thing. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. The spell I see in my mind is already formed, the rules of its puzzle defined by another, and all I would have to do to make it my own is solve it.

But I can't. To even look upon the instructions Evelyn provided sends painful spikes shooting through my mind. [Disintegrate] is a monstrosity of such size and complexity that I have yet to so much as begin to understand the most basic principles of how to begin solving it. Until I do, I cannot cast it. Eva can, in theory, but our tentative experimentation with the spell has revealed that there are conditions to its use that we've yet to understand.

It also hurts to try, and so we've been wary about pushing it too hard. As usual, I make no progress unraveling its mysteries before Talla returns, a small frown on her face.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as I can tell," she reports.

"If there's a break, then it hasn't spilled out this far yet."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" I point out.

"And we just fought a dungeon monster yesterday—I thought a break was certain." Talla crosses her arms and tosses a lot of hair out of her eyes.

"I thought so too, but it's odd to see no other signs this close to the convergence point." I scratch my cheek.

"When you found us, there weren't any signs until you explored deeper into the caves, right?" She gives me a blank look." You were the first sign of a convergence break, Vi. And for all we know the ones maintaining it have been covering up the signs for decades." Oh. Right.

"Still, it's good that we haven't seen anything wrong, right?"

"Well, yes," she sighs.

"Though I'm not sure what would be more concerning—a convergence break, or a powerful monster appearing without a break." I frown.

"What would that mean?"

"I have no idea," she admits honestly.

"As far as I know, it has never happened before." That is concerning, but there's not much more we can do about it until we're ready to investigate closer. It's dark by the time we completely set up the camp, and to my surprise, despite the more sparse canopy this high, it's really dark. I look up at the sky, and find that the bright band of light that usually dominates it is so faded as to be nearly invisible.

"Not long now," Talla muses.

"A few days, maybe a week until the equinox. Then, waxing twilight." Waxing twilight is a more literal translation of the Fa'aun word for autumn.

"We're not going to miss it, are we?" I ask, recalling Talla's original reason for coming up the mountain in the first place.

"We should be fine," she says.

"Our work here shouldn't be more than a day or two—anything more significant than that would be beyond our means to handle regardless—and I've already spotted a decent plateau nearby."

"I doubt we'll have time for stargazing if we're forced to retreat," I point out. Talla leans back in her seat by the fire and shrugs.

"Then we'll have bigger things to worry about, and there will be other chances." She says it flippantly, but there are only three times a year when it's possible for her to view the stars—something she's spent her entire life and dedicated her class to pursuing. I can't think of missing one as anything less than a complete disaster.

"We'll make it," I promise, staring into the fire.

"It's important." She doesn't reply at first, just giving me a curious look before nodding slowly.

"We will," she agrees.

"Thank you, Vi." I cough awkwardly, searching for something to distract from the warmth rising in my cheeks.

"I learned a new spell," I comment.

"Some kind of augury, I think, but I'm not sure how to use it."

"Oh? That's rare. Have you tried it?" I shake my head.

"I wanted to ask you for advice first."

"My advice is to try it!" she giggles.

"It should come to you naturally." Fair enough. I draw on the spell, feeling the familiar tingle of magic coursing through my body and gathering at my fingertips. But instead of a smoldering ball of destruction, I find myself holding a tiny flickering ember that sparkles with an array of iridescent colors. Guided by impulse, I toss the ember into the campfire, and it flares up brightly, painting a pale green light across our faces.

I stare into the dancing flames, trying to pick out colors and patterns, but it's vague and inexact. I can feel that there is meaning in the fire, yet the more I stare the harder it gets to determine what that meaning is. A log pops, sending up crackling sparks that dance above the flame. They linger there for a moment, like stars, before fading out of sight. The split log then settles, creating a little gap in the flames that swirl and dance together before reforming into a single blaze.

The image is oddly comforting, but the broken log gives me a faint sense of foreboding. I blink, and the moment is gone. Just like that, the fire is just a fire, with nothing to be gleaned from within its embers but the fact that it will need more fuel if it's going to last the night.

"What did you see?" Talla asks curiously. I scratch my head frowning.

"I'm not really sure."

"Well, augury is notoriously difficult magic," she consoles me.

"You'll get better with practice." One should hope. That was downright incoherent.

"I think part of the vision implied that we'll get to see the stars," I venture.

"But that might be wishful thinking."

"Sounds like a good omen!" Maybe, but I can't stop staring at that broken log.

"Let's get some rest," I suggest.

"Something tells me tomorrow is going to be a long day."