Chapter 141: What lies beneath our feet

Chapter 141: What lies beneath our feet

“Nature has a surer plan than mortals can devise.”

Janet Morris

After the Silversea family left the leaders congregated to discuss what had been illuminated by the light.

“That was insane.” Bishop Bailie started the conversation too shocked by what he had seen to pause for propriety once the door was closed. The others had been left outside but he could imagine how their conversation would go. Whether this would remain sealed to the confessional under the light was assured but that did not mean that they would not talk about it among themselves. A balanced life was a better life but human nature being what it was it would take their presence to stop them from talking about it.

“Who the grandfather or the grandson?” Archbishop Grigori attempted to chuckle to relieve the tension that had built up so suddenly at the end of the ceremony.

“Both. Although the grandson is more unbelievable than the grandfather. Have you ever seen your ring light up like that before?” he asked his eyes wide with disbelief at what the infant had accomplished seemingly by accident rather than design.

“Yes, but that was through intentionally channelling mana into it. Not I hasten to add through simply touching it during a blessing. Furthermore, you don’t know half of what I’ve seen. We have to be exceedingly careful of the Grandfather he out levels us significantly.” He firmly informed Bishop Bailie. “But, as for the Grandson, I simply don’t know what to say or where to start.” He muttered to himself.

“What do you mean?” Bishop Bailie could not imagine what else would be shocking other than his immense amount of mana. It was just as well that he was already a noble or he would be poached by any number of institutions from noble families to the church. Any guild really would be willing to cross a few lines to gain a child with access to that much mana.

“First off he has a status.” He ripped the secret open. While the amount of mana he possessed was blindingly obvious the fact that an infant according to Aravan’s information on the family was of more portent. It would be easier to believe that Aravan was wrong and the family had adopted a dwarf than to reconcile the fact that he had . . . a . . . status . . . already.

“What? That’s not possible unless he is older than Aravan told us.” He argued shocked and coming to a similar conclusion.

“That may somehow be true but second he can block me from reading said status.” He continued. “I cannot tell his name, level, race or metier let alone his age. I can neither confirm nor corroborate his information.”

“Then maybe he doesn’t have one.” The bishop insisted. “That would make far more sense than him having access to his status.”

“No, it’s there.” His eyebrows still climbed up into his hairline simply thinking about it. “A child without status comes back Name, Age, Child. There are no levels, no race, no metiers that is all that should be displayed. When inspecting him all I got back were question marks. No name, no age, no child status. In fact, as opposed to simply seeing nothing I saw, Name:? Level:? Race:? Métier:? I couldn’t do that if it was not there. I could not see that if he did not already have a level and . . . ” He continued. “A métier.”

“Impossible. It could be an heirloom to block his status from being read.” The bishop had not quite given up playing devil’s advocate.

“I considered that, but besides his pearls, he wore nothing else, no ring, no amulet. There was no other jewellery to conceal such magic. Other than the pearls which were uncarved and as plain as could be. Besides where would an heirloom come from they are only just now forming their house they have no history to draw upon. No, the child has the status and skills to block it from being read. Somehow impossible as it may seem.” The Archbishop attempted to logically explain the paradox that was the Silversea scion.

“But a métier? That means not only does the infant have a status, but that he has chosen a métier as well. If the parents supported this, are you trying to imply that he also has his first ten levels under his belt? There have been no tales of monsters, human malice or any other natural disasters here. How could that possibly be true? How could he have levelled that quickly without some form of catastrophe?” The bishop argued back.

“It is a new house. A noble house that has risen quickly enough not to be included in the dispatches we have received on our circumnavigation. It is clear, to me at least, that their rise is not solely supported by their sudden increase in wealth. They have strength in levels as well as wealth.” The archbishop postulated.

“Yes, but to do that as well as this his rise must have been meteoric. What is supporting such growth or accelerating its speed?” He sounded perplexed as to how this was possible.

“If you choose to stay perhaps you will be able to find out. However, that is something to discuss later. Third either he intentionally released his mana, or he has failed to form a core yet and is producing an unreasonable amount of mana which is being naturally released. That might account for the mana leaving so strongly through his head and seemingly uncontrolled.” He continued his dissection of all that he thought he had learned from such a short interaction.

“Now the mana at least I can agree with. The way your ring lit up was proof without doubt of that. But again, how is this possible? If you have mana, your core formation is something that simply happens long before you are ever able to access your mana anyway.” the bishop conceded this point at least before raising another problem with it.

“I do not know. It is enough to make me consider staying to guide him. Imagine what he might be capable of with the backing and teaching of the church behind him.” The Archbishop pondered aloud his doubts and thoughts. To say that would be a significant change of plans would be to vastly understate the disruption it would cause but he was considering it.

“Will you though?” The bishop asked quietly cautious of breaking his superior’s chain of thought.

“I can’t.” He cut his flight of fancy short. “I have been gone three years already. I will lose my chance if I don’t return within the time I have allotted for the circumnavigation. Remember it is not just about completing a circumnavigation. I also need a cardinal to down for me to replace them. If I am not back in time, I may very well lose my chance. I would just take him with us but . . . I feel his grandfather might object most strenuously to that and we cannot afford or attempt to force the matter, especially so far from the continent.” He paused as he considered all his possible paths. “Will you stay for me? I’m sorry to rush you but I need to know now not tomorrow.” He asked once more. “We needed to reply today, and they have already left.” He remembered his earlier promise to have decided on the exchange of favours and have answered by now.

“Yes.” The bishop bowed his head. “I will stay. As you said the decision aligns with both what is right as well as what would benefit both the people and myself. This child, his potential and his education are simply a stronger reason to pause my circumnavigation for a while. In return you will help as and when I need it?”

“Of course, and thank you.” He clasped hands with him in gratitude. “Guide him well. In time you might be able to guide him to the church but do not make it your aim. He is their first son and the leader of their house it is unlikely that you will be able to change his course. But everyone could do with a little more balance in their lives. Within reason fulfil all their requests. Go now, let them know that we will fulfil all the requests they have made of us. Including our silence on the matter of the blessing. I will inform Aravan that he is to leave with us. I doubt he will object.” Archbishop Grigori turned to enter the room of the Lodestar. “I need to contemplate the changes this might cause. Then when you return we will set forth to place the markers. I know that this will make no difference, but I suddenly feel a sense of urgency.” He added.

. . .

What did surprise me though was Callen’s comments before I attempted to sleep later that night.

“You’ll never guess what happened in the church.” Callen teased.

I had not noticed the ending of the skill in the quiet conflict between the Archbishop and my Grandfather.

“What?” I asked almost dreading what other me had managed to do now. Especially after my own recent failure.

“We got another métier!” Callen chuckled with glee.

“We did?” I asked confused. I had not checked my status, why would I, it had only been a day without much practice at anything. “When?”

“When the Archbishop’s ring touched our head, we were or at least I was offered a choice by the seed of the lodestar within his ring. So I took it for us.” Callen replied. Was that why the light had flared?

“You did? We did? What did you take for us?” I asked equally excited now.

“Yes, I did! Next time you look in a mirror you will be looking at a Singer and . . . a Sailor!”

. . .

They sensed it, still tantalizingly out of reach but they were getting closer. It had seemed closer today, for some reason, though they knew it had not moved. This was a secret exodus, a secret hope lest the other races attempted to steal what was theirs. Locked out of the central lodestone they knew it was death to reach upward. The sea was a crushing weight of water that would flood the tunnels whenever they breached the sea floor. But they carefully crept upwards even so despite the risk.

Death had given them the skills they needed to, death sense, stopping their shaman anytime their tunnels turned in the wrong direction, there was no fighting the weight of water even though they had evolved to be able to breathe it. The initial explosive forces of the water as it found new tunnels would kill all in them and had with each mistake they made but still they continued to search for a shard that they could call their own.

Each tunnel rose and fell to create pockets of air that would stop the water, the tunnels never flowed in a straight line, bending left and right as well as rising up and down. The Lodestone labyrinth was ever-growing, ever deeper and wider as the races within it fought for dominance or to expand to the surface and the light before they were pushed back down again. Their tribe had fought free from servitude only to starve in their freedom rather than being crushed under the weight of slavery.

Daily they questioned the shaman’s wisdom in leading them away westwards deeper than they had ever delved before. Beneath even the sea, but without another option, they could not stray. They could only search and follow that tantalizingly distant scent.

Ever westwards.

. . .

The tangle twisted and turned as they forced their way upwards through the tunnels of rock. Each corridor cost them a member in some manner or another. It was never the same method twice although they did not notice that in their drive ever upward towards the light they could taste on their tongues.

Sometimes it would be spike pit that their leaders found themselves pushed into by the fellows behind them. Other times it would be sharp stone carefully carved out of the stone floor camouflaged in shadow that ripped open their skin leaving them bleeding. The smell and perceived weakness often enough to stimulate a feeding frenzy on themselves. A break in their onward drive upwards as they satiated themselves.

Now and then the path would appear to disappear and the tangle would pause for a while before in the process of mating, breeding and digging their burrows one or another of them would open up the way again when a false wall fell and they would begin their migration once more ever upwards ever eastwards.

This last turn though had culled their numbers more than their breeding replenished. There was not a wall, floor or ceiling that did not hide death in one form or another. But the taste of light on their tongues had grown ever stronger. They were nearly there, so close they could taste it.

Their sightless eyes searched for something that they had never seen but somehow drove them on.

They were getting closer.

Day by day.

. . .