“There is one thing that bothers me,” Elizabeth confessed in the morning. They had gathered and were waiting for whoever would come and collect them. “It struck me last night, and now I cannot get it out of my mind.”

  “Which is?” Irwyn encouraged.

  “Think about it, what has been almost suspiciously absent?” she returned a question rather than a straight answer.

  “Sand,” Alice immediately proclaimed.

  “Gods,” Waylan nodded seriously, the wise person for once. “Been thinking the same.”

  “Are we sure we have merely not just missed it?” Irwyn questioned. “Worship can be subtle.”

  “Nah, probed Alice for it yesterday,” Waylan shook his head. “They have some in the West but not really here in the Republic.”

  “But faith should still go somewhere,” Irwyn frowned.

  “And if there are no gods,” Elizabeth nodded. “What does this nation believe in?”

  Not an easy question to answer. Alice2 seemed to think it was about freedom but she was a foreigner, even if one being integrated. Jonathan looked like he hadn’t slept a minute through the night a just shrugged, claiming to have no idea. Their supposed third apartment mate had still not appeared before they left. When their driver arrived, the soldier seemed to be either mute or completely unwilling to speak, thus not being helpful in answering such questions. Nor were they enthusiastic about discussing plans while he drove them so things came down to idle chatter.

  Irwyn found something else to distract himself with though: The streams of light coursing beneath the street. He could feel them when he focused, even though they were beneath layers of road and concrete. And since he knew about them, he could decipher the messages… somewhat. Some letters were giving him a bit of trouble and when he lost focus even for a moment he often struggled to track which of the tightly clustered cables he had been eavesdropping on. Not that he had found something particularly interesting yet so far but he could hope.

  Their destination was close to the military base they had first arrived through but not quite all the way there. Seemingly just an ordinary building with the usual concrete and wide windows. Not particularly distinct or conveniently branded with a name. They were at least ushered into some kind of a meeting room rather than an interrogation chamber on the top floor. Not long later they were met by two men, one in a military uniform and the other in a robe that most certainly pinned him as a wizard - unless a magic users’ propensity for unusual clothing did not translate between cultures – not to mention the thick grimoire visibly hanging at his side. Irwyn did not recognize either, but someone else did.

  “Major Zema,” Elizabeth greeted immediately with a smile. “It is pleasant to meet you again. And you must be the rumored Principal?”

  “Likewise,” the major nodded pleasantly before the older man could speak, though Irwyn felt it was closer to facade than genuine. “Though one has to wonder: Where have you heard my name?”

  “Overheard it, I suppose,” she kept smiling. “I have excellent hearing.”

  “I am more interested in your declarations,” the Principal interrupted the half-jab. “From my understanding, you claim it to be the work of spellcasters, yes?”

  “There is no such thing as natural necromancy,” the heiress shrugged. “Its presence always indicates a caster.”

  “Any magic can occur naturally in places of power,” the Principal argued. “Like there are fonds of flames or lightning.”

  “Yes, and every such Source of necromancy has been carefully shattered during the Great Crusade,” she nodded patiently. “I have never learned how, or if, Sources can be artificially created but if they could, just the possibility of self-perpetuating Necromancy would have been stressed to me.”

  “I cannot say to have any idea about this ‘Great Crusade’, so I doubt it would have swept through our lands,” the Principal scoffed. Irwyn shot Alice a surprised glance which she returned. Surely such foundational ancient history would be known, even if the timeframe was uncertain.

  “I agree that you have no idea,” Elizabeth nodded. She was getting… well, irritated. It was not helping that a certain old man was occasionally glancing at a certain wart everyone else knew to ignore.

  “The Great Crusade was the great war against all of Undeath after the First Betrayal and the Aspects’ deaths,” Irwyn tried to mediate. “Have you truly not heard of it?”

  “Creationists, are you?” the Principal scoffed again at such efforts. “It’s possible I have read it at some point but I see no point in remembering unfounded mythology from supposedly long before recorded history.”

  “I have read first-hand accounts of it,” Elizabeth chimed in an overtly sweet smile. “Supposedly there are several dozen still kept in our libraries.”

  “Very funny,” the Principal scoffed. “But word does not survive more than centuries even if well kept. Not to mention I would not believe any nation is so old.”

  “But immortal beings are,” she countered. “The Federation’s history does not span nearly that far back yet we are visited by them from time to time. And we know the value of knowledge, rather than smugly preaching our ignorance like some. So we record, then make plentiful copies.”

  “Now you resort to fairy tales of immortality. While there are things besides humans that live longer, all dies eventually.”

  “Willful nescience is not a virtue. You have not earned the Pride you wear so comfortably,” Elizabeth scoffed right back. “There are things older than Time that have yet to die out. Whether you acknowledge it or not is irrelevant to the truth.”

  “Call that agree to disagree?” Irwyn broke in again seeing things were getting more heated.

  “History is not what we have come here to discuss,” Zema followed up on the opening. “So, Necromancy, and your assumed duty.”

  “It is anyone’s duty to slay the Rot,” Alice finally spoke while Elizabeth herself was calming down. “And tenfold for us. We are, technically, retainers to House Blackburg. Assuming the necromancers are not too powerful, we are obligated to help kill them.”

  “Twice even, probably,” Waylan chimed in unhelpfully.

  “While any help is desirable, I cannot reveal what we have learned ourselves,” the Major said. “You simply do not have the clearance to be involved with such secrets, even if you weren’t foreigners.”

  “We do not necessarily need anything except the mandate to act freely when the time comes,” Elizabeth said confidently. “They will inevitably attack again.”

  “What makes you say so,” Zema frowned. “We have taken precautions in case it has been a deliberate attack - which I still cannot assume given just your word.”

  “The Rot always comes back,” Irwyn said, he knew that much. “They cannot stop. ‘Again and again, until all is dust’ or they are.”

  “So, you are asking me to permit an independent investigation,” Zema summarized, pausing. “That is not entirely unreasonable. With conditions.”

  “This goes against our agreement,” the Principal pointed out with a frown.

  “Tentatively agreed upon,” Zema said. “While you have had a solid argument, I will not lightly decline help with figuring out this disaster. Their perspective might be… unique.”

  “They are children.”

  “Seemingly, except of the discrepancies,” Zema nodded, turning to the four of them. “For one, I finally know just how far away your Federation is. And the one trustable report on teleportation tells me it is about five orders of magnitude further than the upper limit of possibility.”

  “There is greater and lesser magic,” Alice said with an easy shrug. Irwyn wondered how far they actually were, they had yet to figure that out. “Few things are impossible, even if it may seem that way to mere mortals like us.”

  “Secondly, you come here filled with confidence with words of death on your lips,” the Major continued. “I have learned to differentiate blind arrogance from certainty. You speak of flames that consume the Soul without fear, as if knowing they are no threat.”

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  “We do have our magic,” Irwyn somewhat downplayed. But perhaps that was a good point. Not to mention other events, after Abonisle the blue flames as described seemed almost… meagre. Not a fraction of a fraction when it came to the worst horrors of the Rot he had seen with his own eyes. But that was not usual at their age, was it?

  “Three: I specifically asked everyone whether my name or rank has been mentioned in front of you,” Zema’s gaze intensified, looking at Elizabeth. “Yet you called me by my rank when you first entered the room back at the base. Even though I was intentionally wearing the wrong insignia. You are hiding things.”

  “Is it my fault you speak so loud as to be heard through walls?” she did not flinch and merely inclined her head. “Of course we haven’t told you everything - there is a lot.”

  “I could have you arrested again for this,” he threatened.

  “You could try,” Elizabeth agreed.

  “Can we not leave another nation pursued by their whole military?” Irwyn acted out a worried plea, yet in the same way supporting her words. It was not even a lie. “Any nation is bound to have a few truly dangerous weapons.”

  “I can see that youthful arrogance knows no limits,” the Principal sneered but Zema seemed more considering. Irwyn wasn’t completely sure Elizabeth was not being defiant out of sheer Pride, so how could the Major?

  Irwyn thought their ods of escaping that situation again were very good - especially now that Elizabeth held a concept - but that wasn't the point. His immediate idea was to guide the major to the conclusion that Elizabeth would fight against all rationality if it came down to real hostility. A complete unknown with secrets, ideally left unprovoked. And the Republic did want the help they were freely offering.

  Irwyn was not actually sure he liked that line in all fairness – even miffed that Elizabeth went for it. It was on the dangerous side since the military man could also decide to feign agreement, then gather a brigade's worth of soldiers to come hunt them down once out of sight. The point against that was still that they were offering help with something the man clearly wanted resolved and that, well, they were in the middle of a city. Collateral damage was a real consideration. Either way, it was a road they were already on so he had to play along.

  “You are confident you will be able to deal with these Necromancers you believe exist?” Zema finally reiterated after a few moments of silence.

  “You cannot be actually considering this?” the Principal seemed surprised. “Just look at their gall!”

  “From the description of them, the abominations were essentially just zombies, if particularly contagious,” Elizabeth nodded, pointedly ignoring the old man. “That is the work of a borderline novice as far as their kind is concerned. I have slain worse when I was less.”

  “How will you track them down?” Zema inquired.

  “You could say I have a nose for it,” Irwyn joined in with a confident smile.

  “The undead have tendencies to behave in certain ways,” Elizabeth also elaborated. “It is likely that the isolated Rot out here will not know how to compensate for them.”

  “You claim to know a lot about fighting the dead,” Zema observed.

  “The expectations about fighting the Rot are a lot higher in the Federation,” Irwyn explained. “More than precaution, it is an assumption. Elizabeth and I have participated in battles against them defending a city no smaller than this one.” Far larger, actually.

  “You say much but I am not convinced,” the Principal still insisted despite the outline of a deal already forming. To the point even the Major seemed somewhat unhappy.

  “Then it is a fortunate thing for this nation you lack the final say,” Elizabeth jabbed right back.

  “I am sure an agreement can be reached,” Irwyn mediated. The Principal would not have been brought in if his opinions were irrelevant. “Admittedly, I am also eager to compare notes. Our magic might be different but surely there is overlap.”

  “Ah, do you just wish to see then? what the magecraft you scorn is capable of,” Elizabeth said. She also put on a smile so seeped with so much arrogance that the answer was already a foregone conclusion.

  Ultimately Zema steered them into a productive direction. Namely, they ended up heading to the Century Mall where the blue flames had first appeared over a month prior. The Major even accompanied them, seemingly deciding he wanted to see what was found right away… or worried how things might deteriorate without him to help keep the steadily forming grudge between Elizabeth and the Principal in check.

  The mall had been a particularly large concrete block and was clearly in the middle of reconstruction. Wooden scaffoldings were all around the place, with laborers almost swarming all around them. The military had still kept a presence though, especially at the very heart of it. A few soldiers clearly recognized the Major, or at least his rank, and led them into a decently sized room - enough to fit the six of them comfortably several times. Most of the Century Mall had already removed all traces of the fire, but where they stood was an exception: Walls were still visibly burned in places, gray concrete scorched black.

  “You determined that it was not work of wizardry,” Alice recalled what Jonathan had told them. “How?”

  “One of my students did,” the Principal corrected. “But the method is straightforward. First, we had to find the beginning. For that, there is a simple spell – let me demonstrate.”

  Then the man took a new small book from within his robe - not the large tome with bits of metal in its bindings that he was carrying attached to his hand - and quickly opened it on a blank page. He placed it in the air where it suddenly stopped moving, a symbol lighting up on the cover as mana surged into it. Not a lot of mana, just a smidgen, and almost a third was leaking - thus the glow.

  “This is not Time magic,” Alice frowned. Irwyn tried to identify the line and there was a familiarity in it - like when he had watched Elizabeth carve her concept… except it was only a single line rather than the interwoven nine, and it was much more basic. Without the depth of impossible angles and another dimension to be drawn in – like a simplification. It was also still very much incomprehensible at a glance - just a glowing scribble.

  “Yes, I do not need to manipulate time for writing,” the wizard rolled his eyes.

  “Not space either,” Alice shook her head. “Maybe… Realm? Projecting the stability of a solid surface or something.”

  “We call this spell ‘invisible stool’,” the Principal explained, giving Alice a very condescending look to the point she almost reddened. “This is not a difficult concept, child.”

  “Careful, you might start a second beef today with a ‘kid’,” Waylan mocked from the side making the man frown.

  “So, how would you find where it had started,” Irwyn interrupted, staring at the levitating notebook.

  “This spell is called ‘Origin seeker’,” the Principal explained and started drawing with a pencil he had retrieved at some point. And grudgingly, Irwyn had to admit it was somewhat impressive. The old man’s hand moved with quick and precise motions, drawing a new, more complicated symbol in one long stroke. Not quite to the point of a full intention but noticably closer. He must have done that from memory and if every spell required that… well, Irwyn wondered how many the old wizard could remember so perfectly.

  “This means ‘center’ or more like ‘place of the beginning’,” Alice pointed to one part of the drawing essentially the moment it was finished. “The intention of finding the exact coordinates of space where something had begun. The first half does that.”

  “Very… astute of you,” the Principal wavered somewhat, while Zema’s eyes definitely sharpened. Irwyn looked again and realized that there was indeed something close to a halfway point where the style of random zigzagging and curving between the two halves changed. Not that Irwyn could tell what either did from looking but he could sense the difference in style after he was forewarned.

  “And the rest?” Elizabeth nodded. Much like Irwyn, she could seemingly not make sense of it.

  “No idea, it has nothing to do with Time,” Alice shrugged.

  “It works like this,” the Principal quickly activated the spell. It took half a second of the page filling with mana at a similarly abysmal efficiency, then it suddenly crumbled to dust. Except rather than fall to the ground, the dust floated, lazily moving in a direction. To a particularly burned corner of the room. “The effect is lessened after this long, the pagedust would have surged with speed and from further away if done right after the incident.”

  “This feels a lot like enchanting,” Elizabeth commented. “Drawing the Essence of power onto an item, then merely supplying the mana needed to manifest it.”

  “Except I have never seen anyone combine two different elements into a single symbol like that,” Alice shook her head. “I wonder why?”

  “Aren’t you…” Irwyn started, then hesitated whether it was a good idea to bring up Alice’s family.

  “Yes, my father was an exceptional enchanter - which is how he quickly realized teaching such skills would be a waste of my better talents,” she nodded, not a ripple passing through her face. “I glimpsed a few secrets that caught my curiosity here and there but I was not trained as one.”

  “Enchantment you say?” the Principal seemed somewhat interested at last. “To me, that word means wizardry that can be used by anyone. But needing to include a source of power rather than supplying magic from the caster makes everything more complicated. And when using spells directly I can exert some will over them.”

  “How would you determine that what happened here was explicitly not caused by wizardry then?” Irwyn asked, genuinely curious.

  “A much, much more complicated spell,” the Principal reached for his metal bound book, opening it in a single motion. Yet he positioned himself so that they could not see and raised his other hand to stop the mages from approaching when they started to move. “I am afraid this one is secret. It is one of the creations left behind by our great Founder. No one has been able to ever replicate or even modify them – clearly showing their value. Even its name is not public.”

  Then the Principal began to channel mana into it. A lot more mana, Irwyn could tell. The efficiency was clearly much better than the earlier two symbols but the leakage was still massive compared to the standard he held himself to. The activation took almost 20 seconds, during which Irwyn amused himself with a distinct absence of Waylan. If the Principal labeled his spells, the name would likely not remain secret longer than their mutual earshot.

  Then there was a shift, filling Irwyn with eerie familiarity.

  A slitted eye the size of a continent lazily opened. It was watching a river as it dragged all things within it down its stream. And the eye was part of that stream - but not fully. A fraction of it existed without. So, as the river pulled it along, it could glance back and forward just the tiniest bit. Irwyn could not look at the river, but he could perhaps glimpse something of it in the eye’s reflection… except the shapes were too indistinct to interpret and just looking that way filled him with an all-consuming sense of dread that was highly distracting.

  Then it ended, indescribable sensations vanishing as suddenly as they had appeared.

  “What was that?!” Irwyn yelled, finding he was out of breath. Elizabeth had taken a lowered stance, preparing to fight for their lives. The Void within her was almost roiling in warry anticipation, intensity in her gaze. Yet with nothing to lash out against or a different trhreat appearing she just stood still.

  Alice was sprawled on the floor, just about finished emptying her stomach. “I… might have an idea,” she weakly muttered.

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