Chapter 13
In the two moons that I’ve been working for the Department of War, things have been relatively easy. My work relationships have suffered since that conflict, though they were never great to begin with. So I do my work in silence, participating in bi-weekly conferences without really saying much.
The lonely environment might have been weighing more heavily on me if I did not have the friendship of Miss Moe.
I try to go to Fated Encounter at least twice a week, maybe three times if my budget allows me.
She’s always there with a smile on her face, and she spends every free moment she has talking to me.
At first it was mostly about the books, but soon we tackled other topics.
She told me more about herself—that her parents own the restaurant and she and her brother work there to earn money for further education.
I also found out that she is about twenty-eight years old in mortal years and that she is yet unmarried.
My emotions got the best of me when I heard that and I tried my best to keep my features neutral so as to not make her uncomfortable. After all, she gave me her friendship, nothing else—no matter how much I might be dreaming otherwise.
I did not ask more about the specifics of her situation but I gathered that her unmarried status is mainly because her parents have not been able to gather a dowry and thus, the lack of funds make her an unappealing prospect.
I bit my tongue, of course, from mentioning that I would marry her in a heartbeat, dowry or not. Our differences aside, though, there isn’t much I could offer her—I can barely support myself as it is. But I am getting ahead of myself again. She offered friendship, nothing else.
The day starts as usual as I take my seat at my workstation and go through files.
The routine hasn’t changed in the slightest in my time here, but as long as I avoid danger and earn a livable wage, I’m fine.
With my position solidifying in another four moons, I will also get a considerable raise.
Of course, I must make it until then with no issues.
But there is also another aspect that I must consider: since everyone is so concerned with my level—or lack thereof—I must find a way to develop some skills.
If the position solidifies, then I will likely encounter dangerous situations that I can only deal with at a more advanced level.
Luckily, when I entered the exam and signed my contract I used a slightly different last name so I cannot be tied to my House.
But that will only help me so far. If I want to increase my level, I won’t be able to hide the black mark on my record from any potential teacher. My father had explained as much in some of his writings. But if I find an unofficial one… Perhaps they will overlook it?
The thoughts of quickly advancing and becoming less helpless plague my mind the more I look through the files showing all the powerful warriors from the House of Memnon.
If I could be like that, too…
A blinding red light flashes inside the room, followed by a loud siren. Everyone stands up, looking around in shock.
“Conference room, everyone,” Elysand commands.
We all hurry inside and take a seat, at which point Elysand pulls up an enlarged map. It is focused on a region north of Sattoriya, though I can’t say I’m very familiar with it.
I look around, wondering if others know what it is. They all stare at the map with a look of recognition. It seems I’m the only clueless one.
“Since Lake Velor is considered a grade zero mystical item, I am personally in charge of it,” Elysand starts.
Lake Velor? I frown. He is indeed pointing toward an area that looks like a body of water. But how could that be a mystical item? It’s a lake!
Elysand makes eye contact with me and he notices my confusion so he explains, “The Lake is a mystical vestige from the era of the Primordials. It possesses the aura of the Primordials and has a mind of its own. Any person who makes contact with the lake has two possible outcomes: either they die, prisoner to their own minds, or they come out with their strength much improved. As far as the records show, those who survived the Lake returned with a fifty percent increase in their spiritual energy.”
I gawk at him in shock. The Lake has a mind of its own? It can kill people or make them stronger? That’s… fascinating.
“For example, if a level three enters the lake and survives, its new level will be a five or a six. But according to the information we have, the higher the level of the person entering the lake, the less likely they are to survive?”
I frown. Wouldn’t it be the other way around? So I voice my question aloud.
“You are correct. That is the logical way things should be. But when it comes to mystical items there are two things one should keep in mind. Low levels simply cannot handle them; some might die from simply touching them. Mid and High levels can use them with the caveat that they have a slew of negative effects. These items, are, ultimately, remnants of the Primordials. When it comes to the grade zero mystical items, the aura of the Primordials is so great, it can cause the wielder to lose control. The Lake is one such artifact.” He pauses, looking around the room.
“There are only a handful of such artifacts in Tartareia, and Lake Velor comes under my supervision. Just moments before I invoked this meeting, I noticed an anomaly around the Lake.”
As he says that, he enlarges the map. A flickering dot appears right around the Lake before it disappears.
“A lot of you have never seen something like this before, and that is because not too many people know about the Lake’s properties and there is constant security in the area.
This individual bypassed that security, and given the disappearance of his energy signature, I can only assume he’s entered the Lake. ”
Shocked murmurs erupt through the crowd. But Elysand is not done.
With a snap of his hand, the map disappears and in its place floating images of guards being attacked appear.
“This is what we know so far. The individual knew where the guards were and tackled them immediately. Facial recognition has failed to give us an identity, but based on the abilities he exhibits, he is at least a level four, perhaps five.”
Everyone stares at the images in silence. Elysand’s expression is heavy as he continues. “The chances are that he will not survive. But if he does, he will likely see an increase in his level, perhaps up to level ten.”
Level ten?
I’m not the only one shocked by such a notion. In fact, everyone is sharing worried glances. Level ten is reserved for the most elite warriors, the titled Sons of Tenebreis. At such a level, not many things are impossible.
“Now, if that happens, it is our job to contain him.”
What?? Contain him? Most of our team is made up of mid-level individuals. I believe the highest one is Elysand, who is likely seven or eight since he does not have SoT status. How could any of us contain a powerhouse like that?
The murmurs erupt in the room, everyone wondering about the same thing.
Elysand chuckles.
“You do not have to worry too much. As I said, chances are he will not make it. But if he does, we will be there and wait for him. There is a protocol in place for when something like this happens.”
As he dissolves the images of the fight with the security, he pulls up another image.
This one shows a red dot in the middle: the individual who went into the Lake.
All around him, there are various blue dots placed strategically, two to his left, two to his right, one above and one below.
All around this formation are other auxiliary white dots.
“The mid to high level individuals in our department will make up the six team formation. The low levels will be on the periphery.”
Elysand explains how the combined energy of everyone involved in the ritual will restrain the individual and eventually bind his entire strength. Everyone present in the room receives a sheet of paper with the information about the ritual.
I scan through the document, nodding to myself—this seems feasible, even for someone like me with no spiritual energy.
After our combined efforts restrain the individual, Elysand will use one of the War Department’s artifacts to seal his strength.
“In theory, the process should go smoothly. But…” he trails off.
We all look at him.
“If the individual survives the Lake and reaches a level nine or ten, there is also a chance he will lose control. If that happens, his entire energy core will become erratic, and his appearance will change.”
Some people nod, while the rookies stare in confusion at Elysand.
“Some of you know about True Form,” he addresses the older members of the Department.
“The rest of you have probably never heard of it, and rightly so. Outside of our Department, only individuals that cross the level nine threshold will know about it,” he explains.
“The True Form of an immortal who reaches the ninth level is pure spiritual energy. Due to this extreme power, anyone looking directly at it that is of lower levels will experience excruciating pain, immediate decrease in spiritual energy—as much as losing full levels at once—and some might even die.”
That… I blink. That’s terrifying.
“If that does happen, everyone will receive a mystical eye mask to wear during the ritual. But as I’ve said, chances are it will not get to that.”
Elysand goes through the rest of the preparation before telling all of us to go home, pack lightly and assemble back in the courtyard in a couple of hours. All other assignments are postponed until this issue is resolved.
Since I live too far away, I decide to make do with the items I have on hand: a small water container and some nutritional bars provided by the Department.