Hope

There were several places selling potions or other similar alchemical concoctions. Irwyn had done minimal research into the art so far though he did know that alchemy was a difficult and expansive discipline. The methods differed wildly from element to element, not to mention the many other alterations between the end products. Potions were obviously meant to be swallowed but they were far from the only consumable possible to craft: There were also pills, injections, powders, patches, creams, and whatever else the imagination could conjure all with their upsides and downsides.

Alchemy was an art older than the Federation after all and that brought variety. Family recipes brought down for generations; then opportunistically turned into half-stolen, half-improvised products which were then recopied a dozen more times until they had little to no similarities with the original. An original which had been discovered by what was essentially chance or educated guesses of mixing around ingredients with various saturations of mana present.

It did not help that simple alchemy could be performed without external magic, meaning even non-mages could make the ‘simplest’ potions. Those were described as ‘weak’ or straight-up ‘useless’, but that was in a textbook quite clearly pushing mage supremacist ideas so Irwyn reserved his judgment for the moment.

After all, he had lived in Ebon Respite where the Underworld’s best alchemist was not only not a mage but also a one-handed cripple, yet the few times the Tears had bought potions from him they were rather useful. Irwyn was not sure if that was an exception or if his idea of useful might have radically shifted in the past 2 months.

Though in the end, he had decided to visit the store run by the most powerful mage he could feel on the floor. Still strangely weak but better than the others. It was strange that there was no one worthwhile present. A majority was one thing, but not a single mage Irwyn could not easily see through as subpar? Something was quite likely up.

“Welcome, welcome, how may I help you?” the clerk - possibly also the owner and alchemist based on the stained garbs - greeted Irwyn into the store. It was a small establishment but still a proper store with a few counters and shelves showing off goods as well as a front desk.

“Good morning,” Irwny nodded, though it was approaching noon. “I was hoping you could help me wrap my head around some potions that I might need.”

“Yes, of course,” the man was all smiles and enthusiasm. “What might you be looking for?”

“Something defensive,” Irwyn nodded. “To defend against exotic attacks, or perhaps something for healing.”

“Well, for healing I have great news for you,” the man nodded and immediately pointed below one of the shelves where several small crates were stacked. “I have finished several batches of Stitching potions just this morning!”

“Stitching potions…” Irwyn repeated. Frankly, back in Ebon Respite they never got their hands on actual healing potions - they were apparently quite difficult to make - and his catching up on education had not touched up on these yet. “Would you explain to me what exactly they entail?”

“Of course,” the man nodded, though his gaze grew slightly sharper. Irwyn supposed he did appear like a bumpkin ripe for overpricing. “Stitching potions close wounds during their duration, as simple as that. My recipe uses Time-based divination to ‘read’ the state of the body from just over a minute before drinking and then uses Life illusions to recreate the missing pieces. These batches are rated for any small injuries – even grievous ones as long as the affecter area is not too big - and will last just under an hour and a half.”

“Right at the Finity breakpoint at 5300 seconds,” and change. Adding up to just barely less than an hour and a half. That was no coincidence. On second thought, ‘just over a minute from the past’ coincided with the Finity breakpoint at 63 seconds. And the thing about Finity breakpoints was, they were basically soft ceilings based on mages capability. Right after each duration breakpoint the price and difficulty of magic began to rise exponentially for each additional moment before the cost leveled out and the cost and difficulty per additional moment remained consistent until the next breakpoint. It was basically common for craftsmen to reach the limit of their next breakpoint following a breakthrough in a fraction of the time it then took them to actually attain the one after; at least as far Irwyn understood it.

“I see that you are well versed in theory,” the man praised Irwyn, which was nothing surprising considering he was trying to sell his wares. “Yes, like all magic, potions are restrained by Finity. When the stitching potion runs out, those wounds will reopen, but by that point, you will have had plenty of time to get somewhere safe and prepare for that.”

“I see,” Irwyn nodded. “Is there anything more… permanent?” a lethal injury reopening did not sound like a good time in all honesty.

“Well, you would be hard-pressed to find such a thing in alchemy,” the man shrugged. “You may find some Grafting enchantments, but those are rare and extremely expensive, not to mention that you need to make sure there is no incompatibility between you and the spare flesh you prepare, not to mention worry about the meat spoiling. In my humble opinion, your best bet is Stitching potions; you can find a surgeon or a Healer specialized in Grafting if you suffer anything that won’t heal by itself. And since most recipes don’t let you use more than one Stitching potion in a row, it’s best to buy quality.”

“I see, thank you for the explanation,” Irwyn said. So basically, Grafting as the man had called it, came with significant problems and required material to make up for whatever flesh it was mending, while Stitching was temporary but more reliable. Any miraculous, perfect recovery was probably in the realm of Named and Edicts. He might inquire with Elizabeth when she returned from her trip, however, he needed to have that safety net… well, ideally yesterday. It was honestly almost stupid he had left it on the wayside for so long.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, let me give you a quote,” the man nodded with a smile then offered Irwyn a price that was probably the equivalent of a shakedown.

“Thank you, though I hope you understand I would like to compare with other prices and quality on this floor.”

“Of course, customer,” the man said with a strained smile. “Just be sure you are not deceived by a false label. I am a licensed professional and guarantee that my potions reach the quality which I claim them to be.”

“Yes, I am sure I will see you later,” Irwyn nodded and left. He eyed some of the other potions, obvious things like antidotes but also more exotic kinds. For example, there was a potion of ‘ironskin’ which sounded good and all at a glance, until Irwyn considered that he could currently melt iron with his weaker attacks without even trying. Anything that went through his perpetually active barrier would not be even slowed down by that layer of defense. He would keep an eye out for anything that looked genuinely useful, however, he was not expecting much beyond the healing potions.

A quick jaunt around the floor showed Irwyn that the shopkeeper was indeed attempting to upcharge him by a decent chunk, though in all fairness there were actually only a few other people selling potions that would last the full hour and a half. Most other Stitching potions were at the lower breakpoint of under 10 minutes, a few in the middle of that range between breakpoints at various durations. And nothing above, though there was a distinct possibility of longer durations being an overkill. An hour and a half was already a relatively long stay of execution. If you could not find help in that time, what were the odds you could in a longer frame?

There were a few more things that caught his eye. For one, a pill of ‘planar anchorage’ that made whoever consumed it much more difficult to move with various magics, including all kinds of teleportation and their own spells; which was just fine for Irwyn who had no movement magics of his own. He just wondered about the potency. Then there were vials of ‘Jamerson’s antimagic solution’ which was a liquid that on contact with any potent enough magic consumed the mana to evaporate itself. Irwyn would probably buy at least one to see how well it fared against his own magic.

But there was an obvious problem with that. Namely, that he did not have anywhere convenient to put such things. Which was the next item on the menu.

Satisfied with his scouting for the moment, Irwyn walked up a floor. The layout of the layer above was not too different from the trading area below, however, there was obviously a major change. Namely, the stands here sold permanent magical items of all kinds. That interested Irwyn a whole lot more because there were a few things he was urgently missing. Most of all, a proper spacial bag.

Irwyn went around the floor window shopping and gauging prices, occasionally asking about the specifics of such spacial bags for sale. They were expensive… and disappointingly small. He also had concerns about security, considering that the rogue mage responsible for the attack was almost certainly a Time mage of some sort. Most spacial bags worked by enlarging and stretching the physical space inside them - well, at least the cheaper ones did. Irwyn was sure there were options for pocket dimensions for those with excess money to throw around, which then allowed for more storage and easier use. That basic concept cane with some problems though. Poorly made spacial bags were prone to leaking magic - terrible for stealth and subterfuge - and interfering with teleportation. Irwyn had a lot of faith in Elizabeth’s dress which she had used to drag him along for teleportation but he was not in the mood to take risks needlessly. Neither of the two were actual Time mages after all.

Another problem was the Law of Finity.

Irwyn had never realised how big of an issue it would be for enchantments, though a helpful enchanter had explained the issue to him at their shop. Most cheap or low-output magical items bypassed the problem associated with it by ‘soft-restarting’: Basically, if their magic was active for too long, they would shut down and start again within a split second - often faster than the eye could see - bringing their ongoing duration back to zero. Apparently, it was one of the first things any educated enchanters learned and was used in almost every enchantment it could be.

This was not an option for a spacial bag. If it canceled its own magic even for a fraction of a second the expanded area would instantly re-contract and either tear the bag apart, or crush anything inside; often both. From his conversation with Old Ibis, Irwyn knew that there was a technique in enchanting that allowed for mitigating the Law of Finity even in these perpetual enchantments, however, a full go around the floor had revealed to Irwyn that it was indeed an extremely advanced technique. He had not found a single bag that would last him indefinitely.

The poorest expanded bags were rated for only 5 days. Those were obviously the cheapest and some of the biggest stores offered them pro-bono with large purchases. Quick questions revealed that they were mostly made by apprentices training to be able to make better ones.

The next breakpoint was at under 45 days which was the majority of those on sale. Some did not reach that high, perhaps not quite well enough made or just already old and decaying.

Anything with below 30 days left on its duration tended to go down in price steeply. Irwyn supposed that it was much like vegetables or bread, though the economy of perishable enchantments had never occurred to him before. One benefit Irwyn did get was that by checking out so many spacial bags, he was now able to roughly gauged how much duration there was left on them. And that maybe half of the shopkeeps were overestimating the remaining usefulness of their goods by a day or two.

The next breakpoint was at over 400 days, and those were scarce. Only a few biggest stores had at least one on display and Irwyn was almost certain they were all in an agreement to gauge the prices together. The price they were asking was truly exorbitant; even the significant funds Irwyn had obtained from a pretty big cut of semi-unique masterful enchantment would dip significantly from that.

Perhaps I should ask Elizabeth when she returns, Irwyn admitted reluctantly. He did not want to rely overly on her - for both pride and to not appear like a leech to her backers - and would absolutely pay a fair price for one rather than accepting charity, however, he was sure that any branch of House Blackburg had access to… advantageous deals.

He obviously also had a look around the floor for other items, particularly rechargeable ones. Among the most interesting was the so-called ‘Finity amplifier’. The enchantment supposedly magnified the effect that the Planar Law of Finity had on magic in a small area. A very small area in this case, just a few meters wide. But that was not surprising, that kind of enchantment was a military resource as Irwyn had overheard just a few days prior and House Blackburg was probably scooping up most people who could make them into working for them. He was also almost certain it was made using a combined element, much like his Starfire, except one he did not have a proper name for; it was, however, composed of Realm and Fate. That obviously made it an order of magnitude rarer, even assuming the enchantment was not that complex.

The biggest issue with the other enchantments he had looked at was that most lacked any intention at all; and the few who had some imbued possessed only one. That made them a notch or several below the levels of power Irwyn was personally on. It had been far less apparent with alchemy but now Irwyn wondered if alchemy too could be imbued that way and the goods below had just been all inferior.

The strangest thing was the lack of an exit to the topmost floor though. There were supposed to be 15 floors, even the elevators had that marked down and Irwyn could feel a layer of wards in the ceiling that implied another level, however, there were no stairs or visible entrances. Which quite likely meant it was hidden.

What for Irwyn was uncertain, however, a possibility wormed itself into his head: It may have been purposefully concealed as a trial. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. The mages on these two lower levels were strangely impotent and Irwyn still had not encountered anyone noteworthy. What if that was because the best mages did their business in a more exclusive area? Something hidden in a way that only excellent or very well-connected mages could get in.

So obviously, Irwyn began snooping. He had already gone through the most public areas but that was not a great place for a secret entrance. No, it would be in a nook or corner somewhere. It would also obviously reach a certain degree of difficulty, most likely involving intentions at the very least. That actually made searching easier as finding an imbued concept, even a hidden one, was far less taxing than looking for a less distinct needle in the haystack of countless enchantments sprawled across the entire area.

Irwyn’s first idea were the bathrooms, though that was a wash without so much as a hint. That did not mean he was without success for long as in just a few minutes later he spotted a thin corridor between two storefronts, partially obstructed by crates. But not fully. There was just enough space for him to squeeze through without trouble.

From there it was frankly quite simple. There was indeed a magically locked door with 3 separate intentions, each meaning open, build into a construct of raw mana that was somehow separated from any element. 3 static intentions to be precise. Irwyn was done unlocking it before he even physically reached the entrance, finding a circular stairway up beyond. Closing the door behind himself, he went up. At the top of the stairs, there was a small antechamber leading into a larger hall through another doorway.

Immediately upon exiting, Irwyn realised that this area was more separated. Rather than one massive hub, it was clearly split into several segregated areas. There was also clearly some noise isolation since he had not heard the loud music at all until he opened the door. Moreover, his current place was… startling.

Without intending to, Irwyn had managed to walk into borderline debauchery happening right around the literal corner. Although he was probably difficult to see from where he stood, the scene was plain for him to behold.

It was a group dance, though not the kind Irwyn would be accustomed to seeing in public. Rather, it was a proper group performance on a stage. A single mage in the background played no less than 5 instruments at once to provide background music as the dancers swayed. And sway might be a more accurate word than dance because it was so blatantly charged that even Irwyn who did not care for such things noticed it at a glance. Honestly, most of it was that the group was rather scantily clad, clothing all either revealing or revealingly tight, and at a glance the dancers were all conventionally attractive; both men and women among them.

They also had an audience. Dozens of mages, each one noticeably better than the ones below. Over half of them were even obscuring their levels of mana to the point Irwyn could not read how powerful they actually were, though none possessed that intrusive aura that Irwyn had come to associate with truly exception mages like Dervish, the shadow that had followed Alira, or most likely Old Ibis.

All that being said, this group seemed to be a more casual and social kind of gathering. Irwyn was looking more for business if he could find it. He was just looking for an exit to a different area when he noticed something and had to do a double-take. And yes indeed, a closer inspection had confirmed that he had really recognized someone. An adult in their 20s, one eye just ever so slightly uncanny, even from this distance.

One of the dancers was unmistakably Desir.