Typical of Valerian to do something like this, Nil said, words dripping with disapproval. He always was easily impressed and with a terrible sense of aesthetic.

Looking at the cluster of buildings below, Dallion couldn’t argue. What had seemed like square structures turned out to be a recreation of a modern twentieth-century building complex. The architects had started with the basic idea, but added a few local features to make the whole thing more palatable. Ultimately, they had failed, creating a monstrosity that combined the worst elements of both.

Blocks of flats between from two to five stories high were glued together, creating a monolithic whole. Here and there bridges linked the more distant ones, looking like external appendixes, and just as useless. It took talent to come up with something simultaneously so grotesque and dysfunctional.

“How’d he come up with that?” Dallion asked.

Probably Alien’s doing. Despite his many flaws, Valerian had a thing for otherworlders. That’s why I took him under my wing.

“Well, that cost you a lot.”

His father was an otherworlder, and a very good friend of mine. Nil paused. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

That changed things a lot. Putting friends and family in positions of power wasn’t exclusive to this world, though apparently things ended up just as catastrophically here as well.

“What happened to him?”

I’m not sure. One day, he vanished. It hit a few people quite hard, though ten times as many were pleased to see him go. You see, he was a noble.

“Right. Just the usual, then.”

Actually, it was anything but usual. Disposing of a rival is rather normal in noble circles. Not hearing about the hows and whys… that’s a different matter.

A circle of aether golems surrounded the building. There were no less than twenty of them, although far less powerful than the imperial ones Dallion had recently faced. The archmage likely was paranoid enough to have his own ones made, even if they could be destroyed with a tenth of the effort.

Still under the effects of the Moonstone, Dallion could see the spells and symbols on them clearly. They were obviously made for intimidation rather than anything else. Even now, they remained perfectly motionless while Dallion was hovering fifty feet above.

Dallion concentrated on the buildings using his magic vision. There were four layers of protective spells, their magic symbols glowing bright purple on walls and rooftops. Initially, the builders had started out diligently, ensuring that nothing harmful could enter undetected. As more buildings had been added to the complex, they had slacked off, though, putting in less and less effort to the point that multiple weak spots had emerged. By the looks of it, the archmage relied on his authority and the massive illusion spell to keep enemies away.

Back in my day, I’d never have resorted to all this. Nil continued his grumbling. So much wasted time, and it isn’t even good.

There were barely two magic “stick-figures” in the entire complex, located in a small building just off the center. The layers of symbols prevented Dallion from making out specifics, but he could tell that one was rather powerful, while the other was at novice-level at most.

“Nil, how many people would there be in a place like this?” he asked.

Depends on the person. Some archmages have armies of apprentices and novices serving them as if they were royalty. Others preferred a dozen close assistants.

At least a dozen… that didn’t bode well. Quickly, Dallion directed the swarm of shardflies enveloping him in the direction of the building. There were three layers of spells preventing anyone from entering, but those weren’t of any consequence. Dallion could easily see how to untangle and disrupt them, even without relying on brute force. Not that the shardflies wouldn’t have enjoyed slicing through everything in sight.

“What should I be worried about?” Dallion asked, while splitting through the air.

The battlemage would have some artifacts, that’s for certain. I’ve no idea what he’s come across, but there might be a lot of rather nasty devices in the building. Valerian had a tendency to snatch things he fancied. I’d say imagine the fight against the apprentice, but not in your favor.

“You keep saying that. I’d think you have a low opinion of me.”

You’re a novice drunk on divine magic. Need I say more?

The point was well made. Even in his current high, Dallion knew he wasn’t indestructible. He had learned a few new tricks, but he could just as easily lose them once the effects of the Moonstone wore off.

“I guess I’ll use my empathy to find his weakness.”

I might not be versed in the finer points of the trait in question, but from what I’ve seen in your realm, I could say that it doesn’t work like that. Nil let out a sigh.

“Maybe not, but it doesn’t cost me anything to try.”

Extending his magic through three dozen of shardflies, Dallion directed them to cut through the bonds of the spells cast on the approaching rooftop. The process was similar to bomb diffusal, according to the movies Dallion had seen on Earth, only a lot simpler. No longer connected, many of the magic symbols quickly faded away. Others remained active in isolation, posing no danger whatsoever. Dispelling the few symbols of significance proved somewhat more difficult. The principle was similar: one merely had to sever the thread between key points in order to release the magic. The catch was that in order to do so, the amount of magic used had to exceed the one invested in the spell manyfold. Then again, having access to an infinite supply of magic tended to make things go a lot smoother.

Two layers fizzled away, releasing their magic in a large puff of purple smoke. The next one provided marginal resistance, causing a few crackles here and there, but it too was swiftly rendered inert. The final one proves the easiest of all, so Dallion combined its removal with the systemic slicing up of the rooftop itself. The archmage was going to be mad that his building had been rendered roofless, but that was a problem for later.

“Ready, everyone,” Dallion said, as chunks of stone floated out of the way, revealing the archmage’s room.

Dozens of magical sources emerged, each more different from the last. Some were even surrounded in an otherworldly shiver, marking the items as obviously from elsewhere. Learning more about them was tempting, especially since Dallion now had the ability to easily figure out how they worked. Unfortunately, there were bigger concerns. A single body lay on the floor. It belonged to a man dressed in clothes that would put an archduke’s wardrobe to shame. Jewelry, artifacts, and magic items were all over him like decorations on a Christmas tree. Yet they had done little to prevent the lethal blow that had pierced the man’s stomach.

The archmage, Dallion thought. He’d only seen the man in a memory fragment, but recognized the features. The hairstyle and facial hair had changed, but in all other aspects, the facial features remained identical.

A few steps away, trembling in the corner of the room, was someone else—the only living entity in the entire complex. The person’s clothes showed signs of intense fighting, but he himself appeared completely unharmed. That didn’t prevent him from gripping a weapon with both hands.

“Raven?” Dallion descended.

The boy didn’t immediately react. Remnants of fear emanated from him, filling the room with a low-pitched ring. As the seconds passed, the sound got less and less until it was almost not there.

Careful, Nill warned. He’s not what you—

“I know exactly what he is,” Dallion said calmly. He could see the magic glow within the boy—the same that was glowing from within him. “Argus was never here. You consumed the Moonstone.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” Raven said in a trembling voice. He appeared more terrified of the fact that he had wasted the item than actually killing the archmage.

Of course, Dallion thought. Only a child would think of such a thing. Even with surprise and everything else to his advantage, he wouldn’t be able to kill an archmage, even one as weak as this one.

“I guess that’s what you needed the magic draining sword for.” Dallion glanced at the weapon.

“He was supposed to just die,” Raven went on.

There was no trace of the calm and collected noble Dallion had gone to magic lessons with. Before him was a scared boy who had seen his entire world shatter. Even so, he remained his enemy. The moment Dallion took a step forward, Raven combat split, jumping to his feet in a variety of fashions. In a few instances, he even attacked, only to be countered by Dallion’s own combat splitting.

“You weren’t able to use that before,” Dallion said, cautiously moving about the room with his instances. “The Moonstone helps, doesn’t it? All that power, no more limits… I’m surprised that Argus let you use it.”

“It happened by accident!” Raven snapped. “He was supposed to be here. All of them were! It’s their fault that they deserted me.”

Dallion considered using his empathy trait to see Raven’s memory. So far, he’d only seen fragments of someone’s distant past. Being able to see events that had passed moments ago would be difficult, if not impossible.

Any theories about this, Nil? He asked.

Plenty of theories, the echo replied. I’m sure you have a few of your own.

“Looks like they left you once you did your job,” Dallion ventured a guess. More importantly, he took advantage of the situation to use his music skills. A battle-hardened mage would be on guard against such an attack; a boy in a confused state was more likely to ignore such interference, especially if subtly done. “They cut the strings, leaving all their puppets to suffer the consequences.”

“You’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” Raven gritted his teeth.

“Let me guess.” Dallion pushed on, putting fear, anger, and sadness into his words. “The mage said that you’re special. He gave you a task that only you as a child of a prosperous noble could achieve. Everyone was going to be in your debt, right? They’d honor you as a hero once it was over and you’d be remembered for generations.”

“I will be remembered!”

“Well, in that case, where is he?” Dallion mockingly looked about with several of his instances. “I’ll tell you. Hidden safely away, leaving his minions to take the fall for—”

“Argus works for me!” Raven shouted, all of his instances vanishing. “You think I’m some pawn? He is the pawn! He begged my parents to become part of this, just like all the rest!”

This was new. Dallion paused, but maintained his own instances active.

“You think my father went through all that trouble to get rid of the Academy? The Academy has been done for ages ago! The archmage is a joke that considers bribes a hobby and hasn’t cast an adequate spell in years. This place is just a hindrance on the way to victory!”

Someone must have taught him those phrases, Dallion thought.

“And you think a single archduke can take down the emperor?” Dallion used his music skills to push Raven just a bit more.

“You think my father’s just another archduke?” Arrogance mixed with rage within the boy. “One of the old emperors gave us this piece of land as a token, to ensure that we don’t attack them. The empire has never been as strong as it pretended. Now they are outright weak, and it’s time for us to take what is rightfully ours!”

Crap! “You’re part of the alliance against the empire, aren’t you?” Dallion drew his harpsisword. Meanwhile, more of the shardflies flying in the area flocked onto him, reinforcing his living armor.

“I’m not part of it. I’m one of those that lead it. Now that I’ve shown everyone that I can kill the Academy’s archmage, they’ll have no choice but to give me the crown! The empire fell today! You just haven’t figured it out yet!”

The boy dashed forward, the magic draining dagger at the ready.

Immediately, Dallion used his shardflies to cast dozens of magic barriers. He had vastly miscalculated the situation.