NOVEL NEXT Chapter 69 : The Study
Once the servant leading her walked away, Amy slid out the door to the bathroom she had just entered. She was wrapped in the abyss of her Witch's Cloak, the Unknowable sloughing off it more tightly controlled than previously. Whilst she hadn't pushed the Spell into the next Tier, she had made minor improvements in it, to the extent where she had an improved control over its Magick. Here deep in the Clarke estate, Amy had no idea what sort of strange ways they could use to detect her even through her Cloak which had served her well thus far. That made it all the more important then that she kept a tight leash around the Cloak, ensuring it didn't leak mana needlessly so that not even a mote of Unknowable could be picked up.
Harrison Clarke no doubt kept guards posted around the estate at all times, not just for intruders, but for catching stragglers from the ball who might want to snoop around; and she was both. These same guards were no doubt Mages, and experienced ones at that, so she couldn't afford to be sloppy.
Lurking around the corners of the corridors, the Witch peaked around every corner carefully before she went on, searching for something, anything, that might lead to something useful. A couple of times she was forced to dodge out the way as a patrolling guard went past, or ducking back around a corner when she almost came face to face with one. Fortunately her Witch's Cloak hid those mistakes, but how longer that would be the case was uncertain.
Amy eventually managed to reach the second floor of the estate, using a servant's passage and by-passing the heavily guarded main staircase. There, her search was far more fruitful.
Oddly enough, the guards were sparser up here, although Amy supposed it made some sense. If all entrances to the second floor are blocked, then you can lessen the actual number of people you have up there. Don't need to guard what you know can't be entered. Still, the floor was by no means unprotected and Amy still had to keep her own guard up. Mostly, the guards kept to the edges of the floor, allowing the Witch to slip through the gaps in the middle, gliding through the maze of corridors and rooms.
Poking her head into some of the rooms, Amy found guestrooms, a VIP suite, and what she assumed to even be Harrison's mother's room itself. And, at the far side of the estate, she found what she desired.
Amy could tell immediately that she had found what she sought when she opened the door. The bedroom was of course extravagant beyond reason, the majority of the room taken up by an absurdly large canopy bed, one fit for a king. Rather, on the opposite side to that, a desk of dark wood stood at contrast to the luxury of everything around it. Stacked on a bookshelf next to it were countless books, their spines labelled with indecipherable names, clearly magically encoded using some unknown method. As much as Amy would've liked to peruse through the tomes and grimoires of an Archmage, she didn't have the time.
Her search must be constrained and focused. Naturally then, she started with what was already on the desk.
Loose paper files and documents were strewn across the main surface, small notes and the like placed on top of the side shelves at the very back. Skimming through the titles, Amy found that they were mostly copies of new magical research that had come from the association and letters from various journals the noble had subscribed to. The biggest file on the desk, tucked right into the back corner, was new and yet abused, as if the source of much frustration. With a light touch, Amy slid the file out and grabbed it, flipping cautiously through it. The front cover and first couple of pages told her nothing, mostly official documentation and jargon that she had no hope of understanding. When she reached the meat of the file however, only then did her eyes widen and her breath hitch.
It was an association report. Specifically on the case of the Post War Museum Incident. Her gaze rested on the title of the report for a second, checking that she had indeed read it properly. Then, as fast as she could comprehend with her enhanced mind - a trickle of mana pushing it beyond its natural levels - Amy scanned it all. Enclosed was quite a disturbing dissection of the robbery she had committed, the entire layout of their plan laid out in excruciating detail but from the other side. What was thought to be fool-proof or hidden was blindingly clear to whoever had conducted the investigation, every movement of 'The Mage' or Beatrice's or Brooke's described perfectly. Except, there were a couple clear flaws.
Anything to do with 'The Mage' was riddled with assumptions and hand-waving, the writer of the report seeming to leave key details out that made no sense from her own perspective. Each missing piece of the puzzle spelled out a massive hole in the picture of the report, a hole that its writers seemed desperate to skirt around and leave untouched. That hole became even clearer when Amy stumbled upon a slide attached to the rest of the file: a memory recall report on a certain guard. And that was all she knew about it. For almost the entire report was blacked out, leaving the bare minimum for her to try and comprehend, bits and words that made no sense on their own or stuck together. Only someone who already knew the information in the report could possibly hope to understand it. Even the author and their assistants were blacked out, leaving no lead for Amy to grab onto and chase.
Frustrated, Amy threw the file onto the desk, skidding and flying into the back wall. Nothing, she scowled. Absolutely nothing. I mean, what did I expect? They have literally nothing on me. This is what I wanted; to be Unknowable. Then what is bothering me so much about that file? It's that damned gap in it. They could have found something and left it out and I'll never know. I have nothing not because they found nothing but because they're hiding it all. Damnit all.
Slumping against the desk, Amy examined the rest of the papers on the desk and found much of the same. Here and there was an odd piece that belonged to the incident file but most of it was useless. For an Archmage, Harrison Clarke's study was relatively mundane. Fishing through the desk drawers yielded much of the same, mostly personal belongings and things that served her no use. At the bottom of a drawer however, there was an encrypted notebook of sorts similar to that which rested on the bookshelf. Picking it up, Amy flicked through it, hoping to miraculously find anything. Predictably, she found nothing. Despite that, this was the only thing in the study that was affected by the same Spell as the bookshelf books, provoking some curiosity in her about it.
I could try breaking it. Amy considered. It would be something along the lines of that museum magic. I need to Trespass the Laws of this encryption Spell, violating and distorting them completely. The big question is can I even replicate that? There was something so ephemeral about that moment that I'm not sure I even can achieve again. All I can do is try though.
The Witch stilled her mind and reached back in her memories, searching for that same feeling that allowed her to cast that magic. It was an ultimate demand, a cry from her soul that begged to be worked. Other Spells could be used here, to destroy the encryption. Even if she hadn't a Spell like it in her repertoire, she had been taught the necessary knowledge to know how. All it would take is a Disruption Spell of sorts, a highly concentrated Pure working that interfered with whatever Spell fuelled the enchantment. Yet, Amy desired something else, something other. A siren Called to her from afar, laying on the shore of her being and beckoning her deeper inside. Within her spirit, a flicker of something Fae silently smouldered, drawing all else into its grasp.
Amy was almost startled out of her reverie by how easy it was to enter that trance again, by just recalling how it felt, by just placing herself once more in the memories of that fateful day. It was even easier then to fall into the song that Fae sang and cast.
Magic spun out of her in that same characteristic serpentine shape, shining with viridescence. The snake slithered over the cover of the book in her hands and where it wiped its tail across the leather cover, indecipherable words shifted and spun into new orders and letters that suddenly made sense. Hand-written on the front cover was the word 'Diary'.
Her heart racing, Amy flipped over the page. Words slowly unscrambled as the serpent made its way over the pages, waiting for her to read before breaking the next page's enchantment, its miniature tongue flicking out at her. This particular diary of Harrison Clarke was dated for this year, the other ones presumably locked away or in that same bookshelf. The majority of the writings in it were mundane, talking about what Amy imagined were normal issues for the nobility, as well as more understandable magical ones too. Of course several terms that were flown around didn't make much sense but it wasn't like she didn't recognise them. Felin had talked to her once offhandedly about so-called Spellchains, but he didn't mention how you were supposed to 'organise' them so that they crystallised into something Harrison didn't mention by name. Either way, whatever this crystallisation process was, the Archmage was struggling with it. These entries were dated early in the year and page by page they shifted as an important figure began to be mentioned by name.
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17th May, 102 PW
One more to go until I can advance. I was forced to demonstrate some of my newfound strength at a duel earlier in the week. Unfortunately, this has
caught me some attention and I believe they're starting to catch on. Who wouldn't when someone as young as me looks like they're on the cusp of Archmage?
with what's to come. Luck is on my side however. Mother mentioned that my father has sent a letter about me. If even he is showing interest, then what
kind of prodigy am I?
Skipping some entries, Amy then found what she anticipated.
31st May, 102 PW
I'm finally ready. All my Spellchains are in order and my attunement has been checked by father. Nothing stands between me and Archmage. I will be
the youngest Archmage the Empire has ever produced since the war. Tomorrow, I will be reborn.
Thumping heavily against her chest, Amy's heart deafened her as she turned to the next page with bated breath. And she did not find what she expected. There was no entry for the 1st of June. Or the 2nd. Even the 3rd was empty. There wasn't an entry until the 12th.
12th June, 102 PW
It should have worked. Everything was in order. Everything was right. I know father says that these things happen, that I'm not unique, but I was supposed
to be a prodigy. Why couldn't I live up to his expectations? Why did I fail?
All my hard work is gone. No more Spellchains, no more enhancements, no more infusions, everything. All gone. I only survived by the grace of my father.
If I had tried to ascend without him I would've died. If only I had waited. If only I was better prepared.
Now, I am useless. Father doesn't know the full extent of my failure. He can't know. He must have some hints about it, about why I still haven't
tried to ascend now that I'm healed. He doesn't know. My entire Core was shattered and he doesn't know. He's a Monarch. He had to have known. Unless,
he simply didn't care enough to check. Everyone's words of praise mock me. They call me Archmage, without seeing the truth.
I am no Archmage. I'm barely a Journeyman. It'll be years until I'm ready to advance again and by then I'll no longer be the youngest. I'll no longer be a
prodigy. I'll be just another Archmage, one amongst hundreds.
19th June, 102 PW
They know now. They all know. Father's abandoned me. They all still call me Archmage, to mock or comfort me, I don't know. There's still so much
I don't know. I'm useless. It's all pointless. I'm finished.
Amy barely read the following entries, where he talked of much the same drivel, about how he was worthless and ashamed. Her mind was too busy as his words echoed around inside her head. Archmage Harrison Clarke was no Archmages, or even a Master. Amy had no clue how ascension at that Tier worked, or how even a failed ascension can strip you of your own Tier, rather than stunt progress, but it was undeniable. She had been rewarded. She finally had a chance-
12th October, 102 PW
Father visited me again. I finally have his attention again. I finally have hope of advancement. All I have to do is keep searching. I need to find that Mage,
but the leads are few. That robber girl was captured, but it isn't enough. That Mage has links to The Forgetting of all things, they won't leave clues around
so easily. I need something solid. I need to find the Mage himself.
"What?" Amy asked aloud, uncomprehending of the words on the paper in front of her. Harrison was looking for her, too? Why?
13th October, 102 PW
That Beatrice girl is dead. The Mage no doubt killed her to clean up his tracks. He left nothing behind, nothing. All he left were the same hints he left last time,
the same mocking signs that had to be left on purpose. What else would help drive people off your tail than reminders of what traumatised an entire generation
of Monarchs?
What do you mean, 'traumatised an entire generation of Monarchs'? Amy's face dropped, horrified. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
14th October, 102 PW
Looking at past records doesn't help. There are no leads and this is a hopeless chase. The Monarchs have set me up for failure. All the Mage left is much of the same
that other victims left behind too. Gaps in memories, gaps in reality. It's messier, his work, but undeniably the same as The Forgetting. I've looked at three victims
so far: the work of a Forgotten Storm god; the Observatory Project; and the lost School of Hate. It all matches the style, but not the execution. That could mean a couple
things but it doesn't change what needs to be done. Either this Mage is one of the culprits in The Forgetting or simply someone whose uncovered the inheritance of the
perpetrator; either way, they must be hunted down and seen to justice.
The Witch did not think. How could she? Here she was, hunting for Archmages, and unbeknownst to her, she was the target of Monarchs? How, or even why? Amy didn't spare time to think, she only read and she searched. She was nearing the latest entry of the diary, but those things Harrison talked of, that Storm god and the like... Could they be in the study?
Archmage Harrison Clarke was talking with a gentleman from the east when something pinged in his mind. It was an impossibility, and yet, it had been triggered nonetheless. The seal on his diary had been broken. How did someone get into his study? How had they gotten past the guards? Questions like those ceased to matter however. He must find this intruder and make them pay.
"Apologies, sir, but it seems I have urgent business to attend to," Harrison bowed his head slightly before marching off, perhaps somewhat rudely.
For every servant or guard he passed, he gave them the signal he had trained them to recognise. Immediately, they all perked up and either began following him or rushing off to alert the nearest staff about the emergency. Someone had broken into his home, put his people and guests at risk, and they must be dealt with immediately. It wasn't long before he stood to the door to his room, guards flanking either side of the doors, keeping watch. They knew they weren't as capable as him, someone who stood at the pinnacle of his Tier of magic. Yet, they could still help. Not wanting to dawdle any longer, Harrison kicked down the door and entered the room.
Most curiously, the room itself was relatively the same as he had left it. Only one place was different from his most recent memories, the papers on it left behind in different places and, of course, the diary left open on the desk, its encryption Spell cracked. That was all ignoring the woman standing at the wide-open window, wind howling as it chilled the room.
And, perhaps as he had half-expected, the alluring figure of the Witch stood there, that mocking face the perfect expression of arrogance. Mana curled around his finger tips as he reached for Fire and Space, directing them towards the Spellchain embedded in his body, the Spell sitting there at the ready. The Witch was not standing there and doing nothing however.
Before his very eyes, she seemed to disappear, the very mana around her consumed with it. As if she had been Forgotten.
Archmage Harrison Clarke would never Forget a Mage like her, and with a bit of enhanced concentration, his Sight found purchase upon her form once again. His guards were not so lucky, left wondering why they had looked towards that corner of the room in the first place and why they had gotten so distracted from their task. Reaching out as fast as he could, his signature Spell forming around her, Harrison cast-
"I am unseen, and so all is."
A terrible booming voice Decreed that the world bended to its desires, and so the world answered. Magical darkness shrouded his vision, blocking his Sight of both the Witch and even his own mana. As brief as that Spell was, barely lasting for a second before it dissipated, it was just long enough for the Witch to escape. When he could see once more, she was gone, out of the window and free.
He rushed anxiously towards it, peering out into the dark and cloudy night, hoping to catch a glimpse of his fleeing adversary. But it was no use. The Witch had escaped and with it, his only lead on The Forgetting.
"Damn it all."