Victor of Tucson-Chapter 2Book 10: : Venting

2 – Venting

Victor flipped through the tome he’d come to think of as his “elder magic book,” amazed at the progress he’d made in the last few months. Azforath’s spell patterns and notes took up the first few pages, but the next nearly two hundred were filled with his notes from the texts Dar had given him and then his own patterns, pieces of patterns, and further notes on what he’d learned in his experiments and lessons with Tes. He only wrote something into his “elder magic book” when it was perfected after hundreds or thousands of iterations on loose pages that Victor was careful to destroy as he made improvements.

The sourc𝗲 of this content is frёeωebɳovel.com.

“Quite a lot of good work you’ve done. Yet…” Tes trailed off, letting Victor fill in the rest of the sentence—probably something like, “Yet, you’ve not put any of those spells into practice.” It was a regular discussion between them. Tes was certain the veil walkers overseeing Ruhn would take note if he started working elder magic because the System would step in and issue a bunch of warnings, just as it had when he’d altered his spell for summoning his totems.

There wasn’t anything wrong with doing so, not unless you worshipped the System as a deity, and that didn’t appear to be prevalent on Ruhn and certainly not among the veil walkers. No, the concern was that the veil walkers who had hidden allegiances to the great houses might spy from a distance and report what they learned about Victor’s talents to potential enemies. For the same reason, Victor refused to use abilities he’d yet to display in the arena when practicing. As much as it pained him, he’d even refused to try out his Flight of the Lava King.

“Yet secrecy is paramount, and you refuse to shield us from prying eyes.” Victor cocked an eyebrow at Tes, wondering if she’d argue.

“I wouldn’t be welcome on this world if they knew who I was, Victor. I can mask our conversations, but to block out the use of elder magic would be to tip my hand. Such a shielding would, in itself, be as much of a signal as if you employed your new spell patterns.”

Victor snorted, closing his book with a thud. “Just making sure you remember why these are untested because it felt an awful lot like you were judging me.”

“I’m not! I’m simply…complaining. Can a woman not vent?”

“Nah, I get it. I’m frustrated, too. I almost hope I’m forced to use one of my new spells when I fight Bandia’s champions. Then, the cat will be out of the bag, and I can start practicing all of these.” Again, he held the book up.

“Well, that’s why I was teasing you ever so slightly. I feel as though experimenting with new spells in the middle of a fight has the potential for disaster. Better to practice now and let the cards fall where they may if you ask me.”

Victor sighed. This was what he’d been hoping to head off by reminding her why he was being cautious. They went round and round in circles like this every time the topic came up. The thing that worried him was that Tes didn’t always take that side of the argument. Often, she’d be the one pressing for caution. Victor decided to give her a taste of her medicine. “Yeah, you know what? You’re right. I’m going to go ahead and try some of these new patterns out. Might as well get used to them.”

“Victor—” Tes started but stopped, narrowing her eyes at him as he stood and walked toward the balcony.

“Yeah. Figure I’ll test out these damn wings while I’m at it.” Stepping out through the open door, he employed the strange, comfortable pathway that pulled Energy out of his Breath Core and into his feat—Flight of the Lava King. It was so natural and easy that Victor could almost believe he’d had the ability his entire life. He honestly couldn’t remember what it had been like to not be able to do it. Such was the way with abilities his titanic bloodline allowed him to absorb; it was a part of him now.

As fire erupted from between his shoulder blades, Tes groaned, and he felt her magical veil spread to encompass the balcony, hiding his fiery, magma-dripping wings from prying eyes. Victor turned, careful not to burn the furniture on the balcony, and arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“I notice you called my bluff with an ability that won’t draw the System’s ire or signal the veil walkers.”

Victor shrugged, pulling his Energy back and causing his wings to flicker and fade. The little pools of lava he’d created sizzled and popped, rapidly cooling on the cold marble tiles. He stepped back inside. “I just wish…” he trailed off, folding his arms over his chest, tired of rehashing the same frustrations over and over.

“You could be yourself? Free? Unfettered?” Tes stepped closer to him. She wore one of her breezy flowing knee-length dresses, this one layered in shades of pale pink and lavender. Like Victor, she didn’t seem bothered by cold weather. When she rested one of her slender pale hands on his wrist, an electric tingle ran through Victor, and he had to use every ounce of his prodigious will to keep his face neutral. “I play devil’s advocate, but you know what I really think, don’t you?”

“Yeah, of course. You agree with Dar and pretty much any military strategist ever: keeping my capabilities obscured is better for my long-term survival.”

“Yes. Now, regarding the upcoming challenge—do you really think you’ll need one of the newer spell revisions we’ve been working on?”

“To beat a couple of iron rankers? I doubt it. I might need to play one of my other cards, though.”

Tes squeezed his wrist and gave a quick, almost imperceptible nod. “And how are you feeling about all that? You haven’t told me much about your conversation with the queen.”

Victor sighed, shaking his head. “I’m fine. I’d rather fight two versus one than beat the shit out of one poor guy.”

“That hubris is going to get you in trouble someday. Not all iron rankers, as the people in these parts call them, are created equal.”

Victor nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t mean it that way. I just don’t like fighting people weaker than myself, and it sounds like that’s going to happen.”

Mischief entered Tes’s eyes. “Would you like me to bind part of your potential?”

“Huh?”

“Just as your Energy and potential are reduced when you use the Alter Self spell to make yourself smaller, there are other ways to tie up that power. You can cancel your Alter Self, but if you allowed me to bind your power away, you’d be forced to make do with what you had.” She slid her fingers away from his wrist to the meat of his forearm and firmly squeezed the muscle there. “Would you enjoy that?” 𐍂ᴀΝоꞖЕS̈

Victor looked into her eyes, sky-blue in the current lighting, and narrowed his brows. “Are you being serious?”

“Not really. I’d be beside myself with grief if you died trying to prove some kind of point—trying to hold yourself to a standard no one else adheres to.”

“Yeah. I guess it would be dumb to risk everything just so I could feel less guilty about winning.”

Tes’s eyes glittered with amusement. “I’ve missed your brand of vernacular, though I feel you’ve improved your vocabulary significantly since Coloss.”

Victor shifted, pulling away from Tes’s touch. He was both annoyed by her teasing tone and her flirtation; she’d been clear on more than one occasion over the last few months that she wasn’t there for romance. “What was funny about what I just said?”

“Oh, just the use of ‘dumb’ where anyone else I know would have said, ‘foolish.’ There’s a difference in connotation, you know?”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Sure. You got my point, though, right?” Without waiting for an answer, Victor turned and walked back outside, leaning on the balcony as he looked out at the colorful forest carpeting the slopes of Iron Mountain. Fall had come to the duchy, and it was beautiful—broad swaths of red, orange, and yellow intermixed with the deep shades of the evergreens.

Tes came to stand beside him. “You’re awfully broody.”

“Just frustration, Tes. And no, I can’t put it all into words. I think part of it boils down to irritation that people like the veil walkers of this world,” Victor waved a hand toward the gray sky as though the people he spoke of were floating around up there, literally watching over Ruhn, “have so much goddamn say in what I do or how I act. No matter how much I improve, how strong I get, there always seem to be more people like that, ready to exert some sort of control.”

“And you feel I’m being just as bad?”

“No!” Victor turned to glower down at her. “I mean, yes, but not in the same way. I’m frustrated that you don’t take me seriously.” There—he’d said it. He was tired of Tes treating him like a kid brother.

“Oh, Victor,” she sighed. “I take you seriously. I just care about you too much to let you think you’re ready to stand against ‘veil walkers’ and their rules or their cheating schemes. I know I’ve yet to meet any of those looking over Ruhn, but I fail to believe that none have ties with the great houses. I refuse to believe it. Where people exist, you will find corruption.”

“You always do that—say ‘steel seeker’ or ‘veil walker’ as though you’re putting quotes around the terms. What do they call people like that on your world?”

“Aradnue or Luminaris?”

“Aradnue is the name of your homeworld, right? Where dragons live?”

“Yes, and Luminaris is the world where my order, the Celestial Envoys, make their home. Well, no need to choose, I can answer for both places. On Aradnue, we speak of dragons in their various stages of power in terms of maturity. A young or juvenile dragon would be equivalent to an ‘iron ranker.’ Because we don’t accept the System on Aradnue, advancing requires knowledge and practice and the ability to harness Energy in the appropriate quantity. It would be rare for a juvenile dragon to climb into ranks that would be equivalent to that of a ‘steel seeker,’ so I would equate such with an adult dragon.”

“And veil walkers?”

“Hmm. The ranges of power among adult dragons are vast. I’m considered an adult, but on this world or Sojourn, I could easily pass for a ‘veil walker.’ I’d say it’s more a matter of learning at that point. Yes. On Aradnue, a ‘veil walker’ would be something like an adult dragon who had completed many years of journeyman studies and could be called a master of at least one art.”

“Are there any higher ranks for dragons?”

Tes snorted, shaking her head in amusement. “Of course! Just as there is a great range in power among adult dragons, the elder or ancient dragons have a power structure of their own. Among the many thousands of such dragons on Aradnue, each would know where he or she stood in relation to the others. There’s a hierarchy.”

“Sounds a lot more complicated.” Victor shrugged. “I mean, in a way, it’s simpler, but there aren’t any neat labels for people.”

“And how well have labels served the people who sought to kill you?” Tes chuckled. “No, Victor, putting great numbers of people with disparate bloodlines, histories, training, minds, and imaginations into broad categories is a fool’s errand.”

“What about the other world—Luminaris?”

“You’d feel more at home there. It’s not unlike Sojourn, though the world is larger and older and houses a hundred cities as great as the capital where your master lives.”

“Don’t call him—” Victor sighed, shaking his head. What was the use? Ranish Dar, for all intents and purposes, was his master. Wasn’t he stuck on this world, frustrated and irritated, because of Ranish Dar’s demands?

“I’m sorry. I won’t do that.” Again, Tes gripped his forearm, and Victor felt the tension melting out of his muscles. He could feel her touch resonating through his entire body, like an electric charge running through him, and though he loved it, he felt further frustration building. Even so, he didn’t pull away again, and rather than snapping at her, he cleared his throat and tried to steer the conversation back to something interesting.

“Well? What do they call iron rankers there?”

“Knowledge is revered above all else on Luminaris. You can imagine, then, that their labels revolve around learning. When someone gains their first Class on Luminaris, they become ‘initiates.’ As they advance to tier two, they become ‘adepts,’ at tier five, they earn the title of ‘scholar,’ and at level seventy-five, they become ‘sages.’ When someone on Luminaris reaches level 100 and begins to work on their custom Class, they are known as ‘architects.’ Finally, their equivalent of ‘veil walkers’ are ‘lore masters.’ Clear enough?”

“The System is there? On Luminaris, I mean?”

“Yes, though many of the worlds in that part of the universe, like Aradnue, refuse the System access.”

Since he had Tes in such a talkative mood, Victor decided to press his luck. “And? After ‘lore master,’ what is there?”

Tes grinned and squeezed his arm again, threatening to turn Victor’s bones to jelly. “You’re silly, you know that?”

“Come on, Tes! Just tell me this much, if I ever make it to steel seeker and then figure all that shit out and become a veil walker, am I going to learn that a whole other class of powerful pendejos is out there, waiting to remind me that I’m just a small fry again?”

Tes giggled and leaned against his shoulder. “I love it when you speak that way. I’ll tell you this much—there aren’t any veil walkers I know who could push around the titan sleeping under yonder mountain.”

“So…” Victor frowned, feeling a trickle of rage seeping into his pathways. “So there are stages beyond veil walker!”

“Come, Victor! You’ve met more than one.” Again, she nodded to the mountain, but then she surprised him. “And the pretty insect queen you met? What did you name her? Crystal?”

“When did you hear—”

“My first night here, silly! You should be careful when a dragon comes bearing alcohol.”

Vague memories flashed through Victor’s mind—Tes, red-faced and laughing; him bemoaning the state of his heart and his frustrating, recurring desire to drop everything and find Valla; and a hundred other, frankly, embarrassing moments. “Ah, yeah. Right.”

“So,” Tes said, sliding her hand down his forearm so she could entwine her fingers with his. “You’ve done a good job avoiding my earlier question.”

“About?” Victor knew but wanted to make her ask.

“Your meeting with the queen. How are things there? She’s awfully suspicious of me, or at least that was the impression I got at our one and only meeting.”

Victor knew what she was fishing for: he’d definitely confessed his frustrations with Kynna’s advances and his rather surly response to her. He’d been worried that the queen was angry with him, and he’d made the mistake of telling all of that to Tes—damn her potent liquor! “She’s still a little cool with me if that’s what you mean. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’ve got something going with you or Bryn or even Arona.”

Tes squeezed his hand. “So many options.”

“My friends aren’t options, Tes, they’re people.”

She let go of his hand and turned to face him, leaning sideways against the railing. “Oof! So serious! Should I leave you to brood?”

“Nah, I’ll try to lighten up. I’ve got five days before the duel. I’m going to try not to think about it.”

“Is that the right strategy?”

“Probably not, but I can’t cast any of the new spells or refinements you and I have worked out—not without pissing off the System and getting a bunch of nosy veil walkers around here, so—”

Tes held up a hand, laughing. “Please! Let’s not rehash that conversation. No, I might have another idea for you, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, it might get me into some trouble with the Celestial Envoys, but what if we took a small trip? What if I opened a gateway to that little world where you conquered the, um, what was it? Untamed—”

“You can do that?” Victor turned and grabbed her shoulders, eliciting a laugh from her.

“I can! I have a powerful artifact on loan from my order, but we have to ensure I’m not interfering in any worldly affairs by using it. It’s just a visit, understood? We’ll not steal away any rulers of Ruhn, and you’ll return before your obligations to your queen, and when we go to Fanwath, you mustn’t get involved in any politics. In fact, we shouldn’t announce your arrival to your more…influential friends.”

“Like Rellia?”

“Precisely. Let’s go to your homestead and visit some of your loved ones and, while we’re there—”

Victor snapped his fingers. “I can try out some of the elder magic we came up with!”

Tes’s face was bright with pleasure, and Victor could see his excitement was making her happy. It reminded him that she didn’t owe him anything, and he ought to act a little more grateful to her. “I’m sorry, Tes!” he blurted. “I’m sorry I’ve been venting to you. You know you’re the only person here that I really trust, right?”

“How could I not? You’ve told me as much in a dozen different ways. Well? Shall we? You should arrange things with your people here and ensure you have a shared Farscribe with—”

“I have one with Bryn and also Kynna.”

“Go, then! Speak with Draj and Bryn; I’ll gather my things.” Tes had taken guest quarters beneath Victor’s in the same tower, and she’d made herself at home, changing out the furnishings and decorating with her own art, nicknacks, and curios. Unlike Victor, she enjoyed seeing all of her jewelry and clothing, which meant her belongings were all over her suite and not neatly stored away in a container like most of Victor’s. He only knew as much because Tes liked to cook and insisted he visit her quarters for lessons and meals several times a week.

Victor started for the door, suddenly full of purpose and excitement. “I’ll talk to Arona, too. She’ll want to stay with Trobban.”

“We’ll return the day before your duel, so we’ll only be gone for four days. I doubt anyone will even notice.”

“Yeah, but, as you said, we don’t want people to worry.”

“Wisely said, Your Grace,” she teased, following him toward the door. “Come to my quarters when you’re ready. I’ll prepare the portal diagram.”