Korin, according to her, was not ordered to kill us as soon as she acquired the gem. Though in a surprising turn of honesty, she did admit that she was ordered to kill us in the event that we decided to keep the gem for ourselves. For one reason or another, I believed her. But that mattered little to my own plans.
I succeeded in effectively poisoning the rest of the group against her. It wasn't even hard; she refused to communicate in any capacity beyond necessity, a mistake I capitalized on. Everyone had an unconscious positive bias towards people who treat them with even a modicum of respect. I never sneered, judged, or berated Morah for his words or actions, beyond threats of death, which didn't faze him in the least. He wasn't Rennah, and I knew how to play him.
The northerners were easier; I shared their blood, and they valued strength. Anyone outside, looking in, would know not to trust me. Their intrinsic bias against southern nobility made my case all the more believable. While I didn't know what the gem was used for, I didn't doubt it was more valuable than the Occularums.
I wasn't overwhelmingly obsessed with the gem, though. If I found that it would risk me not receiving the Occularums, I would abandon the effort. But there was no point in not setting the groundwork.
We sat by the fire, two days after the confrontation. It would take at least another week until we reached the location of the dragon. That was certainly something weighing on my mind, but it was far away.
“Myr, may I ask you a question?” Korin asked. I was so distracted by my thoughts that it took me a few moments to register her question in my mind.
“You may,” I said, staring into the fire.
“Was your decision to take the knowledge and become a magus before or after you became Baroness Surian’s handmaiden?”
There was no real point in lying; I shrugged and said, “Before. A few months before my fourteenth name day, to be precise.”
‘I can't believe it’s been five years since I met Emyr.’
“So, some of the stories are true; everything you did or have done since then has been in the pursuit of power.” It was neither a question nor an accusation; she was simply stating reality.
“Indeed. I am, as always, a creature in the pursuit of more power.”
‘Oh, talking now, are we? Did you finally realize judgmental silence would not aid you in the least?’
“In that case, may I assume your tale of aiding the commoners during your time in Grenwood was fiction?” She asked.
I smiled wryly. “Interestingly enough, that part was accurate. For all intents and purposes, I was an effective leader; my magic aided them in their businesses, and my ruthlessness kept them safe and secure. In those few months, those people had more justice and financial security than they ever had or will have in their entire lives.”
I chuckled and mentioned, “Even during the deep winter, not one of them died…until Heywood, at least.”
Her eyebrow with the scar rose, showing confusion. “Yet you abandoned them without hesitation. I do not understand you.”
“There is little that needs to be understood. That path was the easiest and guaranteed success.”
“It must be an easy life, never having to deal with something as bothersome as a conscience.” Her voice was filled with contempt and envy, oddly enough.
“Why this line of inquiry?” I asked.
“I wish to understand; perhaps it will make it easier for us to cooperate. The dragon is approaching, and I see now that my attitude does not serve our purposes.”
‘Humility? Acceptance? How interesting. And to do it in front of everyone else…’
I squinted at her. “Your family must be in an exceptionally desperate situation.”
She nodded in acceptance and took a deep breath. “I do what I must. As do you.”
‘Understandable. While it will aid her and also hinder my own intentions to steal everything. I still need this motley team to be functional. Too much suspicion could lead to failure. I need to strike a balance.’
“You wish to know if I am a monster or just unfeeling.” Korin nodded. “I am what I need to be. If I weren’t, I would have died or become some man’s plaything long ago. You say you were ordered to kill us only if we had intentions to steal the gem. But what if you were ordered to kill us regardless? Would you still do it?” I shook my head, cutting off her answer. “No need to answer, you would. Is this not evil, or does betrayal only mean something if the one being betrayed is pious and innocent?”
Everyone was watching us speak, listening carefully; my real targets were the Andregi. I needed to dull the blade of suspicion enough that it wouldn't affect our combat performance.
Korin gazed into the fire, staying quiet for long moments. “I suppose you have a point.” Then she looked at me. “I think I understand you now, Myr. You're a woman of will and focus. You act in the way that someone does when under existential threat. That will is your true power. Being a monster or a saint does not matter to you so long as it leads to your desired end. The stories make sense now.”
For the first time, Korin laughed with genuine humor. Then she stared into the sky, seeming entranced by the endless sea of glowing brilliance. “I suppose it is the blessing of Anier that you were not born into a noble family.” She mused.
“Why is that?” I asked.
Korin looked at me as if I was missing something completely obvious to even the most dim-witted of fools. “I cannot think of a more existential threat to human life than someone like you controlling a nation. You would either be the greatest threat to humanity or the rebirth of the Crimson Maiden herself.”
A pleased smile stretched across my face. I knew it wasn't a compliment, but it was so nice hearing a noble acknowledge my greatness.
"Lucky for humanity, I lack such ambitions," I said, joining in her laughter.
‘Me, lending a nation? I never really gave it much thought.’
‘Could such a thing even be possible? No, it would take decades, and I have limited time in this world. Even if I did, it couldn't compare to the Magisterium. I would need something new, something powerful enough to give me the edge. Something that the Magisterium couldn't counter. But if I did find that thing....’
I smiled as I truly considered it. Then I recalled the joke made by Mar once about me becoming an empress. 'Empress Sera. The bringer o' fire and magic, he said.'
'It's an interesting thought at least.'
Four Days Later.
“Damn it all, Myr, can’t you aim better?” Morah screamed at me. We were being attacked by a swarm of creatures that I couldn’t identify. They were odd, bat-like monsters whose heads reminded me of foxes but were scaled with large, pink ears and incredibly long, sharp claws on their legs. They couldn’t properly fly, it seemed.
The large creatures dove from high in the trees, glided towards us on their leathery wings, and tried to swipe at our faces. They were incredibly maneuverable, able to turn, duck, and roll in mid-air to avoid the swipe of a blade. Ten lay dead at our feet, but there were dozens more in the trees waiting for a chance to attack.
“This is harder to aim than you realize,” I complained back to Morah. The light from the flame at a high enough power was blinding. I was in the center of their formation, the campfire next to me, slowly refilling my reservoir.
Another three dove from the left flight in a tight formation, heading for Korin. “Korin down!” I yelled.
She didn't hesitate to duck before a large cone of bright, red, and blue fire streamed over her head to consume only two of the approaching beasts; the third veered off to the right and rapidly climbed a tree, disappearing into the foliage.
“Well, there is another option,” Nara said to me as she narrowly dodged a claw that would have destroyed her face. Caan acted, swinging his massive sword around, bisecting the creature.
“And that is?” I asked.
“Burn the trees so they can’t attack us from the air,” she clarified.
Morah looked at her like she was a moron. “And risk getting caught in a forest fire.” He threw a dagger at a particularly large one, burying it in their chest. It fell to the ground, and Lindra finished it off with a spear.
“That can work. Just stick close to me when the flames start spreading,” I announced.
“We should keep moving northeast; the winds go in the opposite direction,” Norah announced. I nodded to him and then shouted, “Does everyone agree?”
After a chorus of ‘ayes,’ I waited for a minute until my reservoir was full. In that time, I switched the binding to the input of my reservoir to the potential energy ring. We were in a forest after all, and there was plenty of wood. I took a deep breath and shouted, “Now.”
At the same moment, I grabbed my energy ring from the flames; my thick gloves allowed me to ignore the heat from the metal.
Instead of aiming for the creatures, I burned the trees all around us, setting everything ablaze with my dual binding at its maximum. My potential energy ring constantly fed occasional bursts of primal energy to my reservoir as we ran past trees. With the double binding, the wood was degraded at an impressive speed. Trees fell to the earth in thunderous crashes as we ran by.
After thirty seconds of running, my reservoir ran dry, but behind us was devastation. The massive amount of flames dispersed the creatures, and the attacks were reduced to a minimum.
~
We kept up the pace for over an hour until the attacks stopped completely. Injuries were more severe, with sharp gashes that needed needle and catgut to repair. The creature seemed smart enough to aim for exposed flesh, usually faces or gaps in armor. Still, though, they were just beasts, and their pack tactics were useless against someone who could simply burn and collapse their single point of advantage.
“I underestimated how much damage a magus can cause,” Norah said.
Korin explained for me, “A magus’s only limitation is power. Even an untalented one, if they had enough access, could cause massive casualties. However, they would need a rather large source for what Myr accomplished here.”
Morah looked at her. Then his eyes widened for a moment. “Right, those wheels and the furnaces.”
“The campfire is not equal to the flame from her hand.” Norah realized.
The Andregi threw a glance at me, questioning.
Korin looked at me and said, “It is best they understand the limitations of a magus, lest this mission end in failure.”
’Good play, Korin. Ingratiating yourself by revealing information about Magi and Magic.
I nodded for her to continue.
“She has a condenser; think of it as a storage for power. The ring placed in the fire not only powers the magic tools but also refills this storage.”
‘So, they’re called condensers.’
Morah grinned. “So, without this condenser, she’s helpless without a campfire.”
Korin looked at him as if he were stupid. “Any magi worth their salt are never helpless. If you wish for a quick death. Feel free to attempt.”
“Look at the trees and bushes behind us,” Korin said. Everyone but me turned to look, noting a path of desiccated trees and plants. “Even now, she is gathering power. Sucking the vitality of the wood around us to refill the condenser.”
“That is incredibly disturbing,” Nara said.
“You know much about magic,” I said to Korin.
“My great aunt was a magus of impressive power. Over the years, I’ve picked up a few things about magic from her.”
“So, she also had a condenser?” I asked.
“They are assigned to magi of high standing. Or the magus could have one officially owned by their family. In that case, a trained magus wouldn’t need to have one assigned.”
‘I suppose that’s why Elis didn’t have one. Were the stones assigned? Are they more or less valuable than the orichalcum? Because that is the real treasure, not the circuit itself.’
I would have asked, but I was sure the stones were some high secret. Since they were never mentioned in any text, not even alluded to in any capacity, unlike orichalcum. The origins of the stones were still a mystery to me, one that would have to be considered later.
~
We traveled for a few more days. The Andregi proved to be competent hunters, consistently finding game to keep our strength up. The temperate forest slowly gave way to the ice and chill of the Storm Peaks. Tensions rose considerably with the reality that we would, in time, have to kill a dragon. I did hope it was already dead, but I doubted it. The universe was never so kind.
On the third day, we rose early, not having slept well due to the stress and the slowly increasing cold.
Perhaps it was the looming impending death, but somehow we managed not to nip at each other’s heels. Even the mistrust of Korin waned slightly; the time was coming close. And the signs were damning.
Large swaths of devastated forest, clearly burnt under some great fire. There was a massive claw mark against a bare stone cliff, and finally, there were the bones of a massive animal I knew to be a mammoth, twisted and broken, as if it fell from a great height.
“This is decades old; it doesn’t mean the dragon is currently alive,” Morah said. As if his words cursed us, a sound echoed across the forest, coming from all directions. It started low and eventually rose to a deafening roar, ending in an ear-piercing screech and a low gurgle. It was singularly the most terrifying thing I had ever heard.
With a small amount of juvenile anger, everyone, even his brother, stared at him, as if it were his fault the dragon wasn't dead.
“Now we rest, plan, and eat. We knew this would not be easy. But we are human, not beasts; a monster can be tricked and trapped.” Norah said, his words bringing some relief.
I took a deep breath, letting the fear and hesitation consume me, then, with an iron will, burned it to cinders and stomped out the ashes. Now was the time for focus.
‘It is amusing, isn’t it, Myr? Once you were nothing but a village girl; then you became a magus, a gang leader, a hero to the common people, and a legend in your own right. Why not add Dragon Slayer to your accomplishments?’
A smile came across my lips as I thought of Farway.
‘What would Mother or Aalis say to the woman Edith became? Myr, the magus. Myr, the maiden of fire. Myr, the dragon slayer.’
As I thought of them and that someday confrontation, I realized something was missing. It took almost half a day before I recognized it.
~
As Morah and I tested the crossbow with a nonmagical bolt, the realization occurred. Hate wasn't the same. It wasn't gone, just muted. Farway felt so small, so insignificant, so distant.
At night, while I pretended to sleep, I delved deep into my memories, bringing up their faces and seeing the neglect. I remembered the lashes against my back, the unfairness that, as a child, I never understood. That alone was usually enough to set my blood on fire. And it still did, but even as I burned inside, I knew the flames lacked their former potency.
It wasn't forgiveness or forgetfulness, and when I went back south, I would take my pound of flesh and burn Farway to the ground. But why was the thought lacking its usual sweetness?
‘When did I change?’
I sighed and rid myself of those thoughts.
‘Introspection would have to wait. I have a mission, and surviving it is the only thing that matters.’