Light filtered through the thick windows in that peculiar pale hue dawn possessed. Sterek had slept poorly. He had slept poorly for several nights, and now even endurance could not save him from a pounding headache. In fact, the entire situation was a headache. The assassins had still not slain the traitor prince. His bitch lover had not seen the light or she had failed to convince him to spill his secrets. Sterek had yet failed to understand the targeting aspect of the pilfered construct. It looked like coordinates. He just didn’t understand them.

His path to fame and recognition was blocked for now. He needed a breakthrough or funds would disappear and so would his reputation.

But for now, he had to dance for his benevolent sponsors. His spell was ready, for what it was worth. Every piece was where it was supposed to be.

Sterek bit in a slice of preserved permonn fruit to chase away the bad taste on his palate. He forced some infusion down his throat. His visitors were at the door, early as usual. They would inspect his work then return to their quarters before the day truly began because he was just a distraction. A side project.

He would show them, eventually.

A knock on the door, and he swung both panels in with a gesture. His guests were too jaded to appreciate the trick. They walked in with purpose and filed into the lab without waiting for an invitation. There was a tanned man with a ruddy face and scarred hands representing the builder’s guild. An officer in full plate and crimson tabard displaying the white walls and tower of Helock stood in for the army, while an administrative employee of the Academy in white robes followed them. She was the only one who showed some trace of respect and shame, which proved she had not forgotten her place. The others had not overtly disparaged him but he could tell they were… reconsidering their options.

Sterek found it infuriating, though his pleasant smile never left his lips. They were primitive morons incapable of understanding the complexity of what he was trying to achieve. He would have a better chance teaching alchemy to a cornudon than to make them appreciate how sophisticated space magic could be. Damn money pinchers and sabre rattlers. Heathens.

“Magister Sterek, a pleasure as always. How fare you? Please do not overwork yourself,” the merchant said.

It was a cheap and unsubtle insult meant to denigrate his efforts and imply he would be ‘retired for his own good’ in the near future, unless he could produce something.

“I am fine, and excited to share this fortnight’s progress. Thank you. A good day to you Commander. Tashey, a pleasure as always.”

“Good morning, magister,” the Academy’s pawn answered.

“Now I am sure you are all eager to see the progress we made. Over the past two weeks, we have continued to explore the targeting and designation part of the spell. As you know, we need to be able to pinpoint a location in order to create bridges between useful locations rather than randomly. We have discovered with some effort that there were four parameters that worked in an harmonious whole and need to match or the construct destabilizes. I managed to narrow down interactions to a feasible range of parameters. In layman terms, I will keep casting and testing various coordinates until we reach a true harmony and the portal opens. With enough attempts, we will derive a formula the coordinates need to fulfill to be viable.”

“It sounds like you are brute forcing the issue, throwing numbers at a wall to see what sticks,” the commander said, and damn him for being so accurate.

“That is not entirely correct. We are discovering an entire new branch of mathematics and magical theory. I would say I am conducting tests rather than brute forcing. We simply need a sample of data large enough to derive rules and test hypotheses.”

“And how long do you expect the testing phase to last?” the merchant asked with a sweet voice.

Sterek spread his arms and sighed to give himself the time to calm down. They didn’t know. They couldn’t understand. He had to be patient.

“We are breaking new ground here. This is an experimental field of magic that even the Old Empire had not developed to a science, as they relied on exceptionally rare skill users. We are all gathered here because we know the tremendous implications of a stable portal system. Some measure of delays and inconsistencies must be expected from an endeavor of that scale and ambition.”

Sterek would have continued if his instincts had not screamed at him. Teysha and the merchant glanced at him but the commander looked up and so did he. Only a magically blind person would have missed the shocking concentration of mana gathering above their heads.

Glyphs carved into the very ceiling and that he knew for a fact had not been there a day before shone a blazing white. Lines formed circles and balanced lines between points that could not be linked and were bound anyway. Perspective played with his mind until there were two spells in front of him: a flat one carved on a bland ceiling, and a delicate and ephemeral symphony of shapes rising up to a sky beyond his reach ad infinitum. The air shivered with the lightest of breaths.

A portal opened above them.

Today’s gray weather spread right instead of up, and the lichen-covered rocks of the highlands extended left. A shape walked through, first horizontal and then vertical as earth’s attraction rectified itself. It was the shape of a man he knew and dreaded, and more still.

When Sidjin had visited him, Glastia’s arch traitor had been a tired man with sallow cheeks and a thin frame hidden behind a cheap travel cloak. Now, a prince floated above Sterek. The man descended with grace and a perfect control only mastery over colorless mana could grant. A rich mage robe adorned his shoulders, gray to signify his loss of allegiance. Keen eyes inspected the gathered inspectors and Sterek himself. At no point did Sidjin lose his composure, even when landing. His expression did not betray a single emotion, save for the natural arrogance of one born of royal and arcane blood. The prince was back. And Sterek… Sterek was gone.

“The cause of your delays and inconsistencies is not that your subject matter is complex, it is that you do not understand its core nature. There is so much I have not written in my notebook because I had no need to remind myself of basic truths. Beyond that, the true cause is that when you stole my research, Magister Sterek, you did it rather poorly.”

“You are trespassing.”

“No honor among assassins, magister,” Sidjin replied off-handedly, and the implication was clear. He knew.

Not that Sterek had been very subtle.

“And you sir might be…” the merchant said while gazing at the portal with naked greed.

“Sidjin, previously of Glastia, inventor of the colorless portal spell. A pleasure.”

“A delayed pleasure. We were informed of your demise…”

“Those were wishful thinkings, thankfully.”

“Thankfully indeed. And you claim to be the one who came up with a functional design? Originally?”

“I am. The portal is my spell, built upon the understanding of space I grew after working with colorless mana for the duration of a very bloody, very exhausting conflict. There is quite some distance between the walls of Glastia and the ground where the endless tide of beastlings crawls, you see? I had to make sure my grinders were deployed for maximum efficiency.”

A transparent sphere formed in Sidjin’s hand, then it grew spikes until it resembled the glass sculpture of a flail’s head. The ominous implement twirled on itself with a disturbing, organic motion. It floated away from Sidjin’s hand to glide over the cluttered shelves lining the walls.

“Space is not an idea or a point. Space is a fabric, and that fabric is not as smooth as one might think. Beyond depth, width, and length, there is also a question of density. Weight, so to speak.”

“Weight?” Sterek whispered despite himself.

“And you have the full right to the spell itself?” the merchant asked.

“I do. Sterek can attest that even with the help of my notebook, he has yet to equal me in replicating the spell.”

“He can?” the commander asked with obvious doubt.

“Of course,” Sidjin replied, and he pointed to Sterek’s data storage golem.

The magister slowly angled his body towards the piece of sophisticated technology. He was aware Sidjin had breached his sanctum, but surely he had not tampered with a secured artificial mind? Surely there was a limit to the outrageous man’s luck?

“No no no no no,” his own recorded voice bemoaned, “Why? Why? Why doesn’t this fucking work? Damn you Sidjin, what do you have that I don’t? What’s your damn secret? Aaaaarg. Alright. Alright. I got the gist. I got the idea. It’s merely a problem of calibration. I can do it.”

“Except, it is not,” Sidjin calmly explained. “The spell’s power and direction must match the distance and direction of the target location and the coordinates must match to an exacting detail or the breach will take massive amounts of energy to trigger. What Sterek tried was akin to stabbing a door with a key, hoping to force it open.”

“Fascinating,” the commander said in a bored voice. “I cannot help but wonder where you were all this time we were working with your colleague, however. I find the timing of your intervention… fortuitous.”

“After my city and I had a disagreement over how to treat our allies, I was imprisoned. After I escaped, I had to put some space between us and travel incognito.”

From the portals, Sterek thought he could hear a faint groan.

“But I suggest we discuss it around breakfast,” the prince finished.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea. Commander?”

“I would like to join as well.”

“Lady Tashey?”

The pawn hesitated, but Sterek knew how she would answer. Discovering the truth was more important than preserving the image of a disgraced researcher. She accepted their offer with a subdued nod.

“Well, Magister Sterek, we will be off. You can expect a letter from us shortly. Thank you for your time!” The merchant said on the way out.

The door closed.

The portal winked out.

Sterek was ruined.

***

Sidjin had his moment. Viv watched him from afar and stayed hidden to avoid getting even more involved than she already was. Solfis reported that the lost prince had taken to diplomacy like a fish to water which made sense since he had, after all, the training and the experience. He managed in a single morning to go from shunned outsider to the new owner of the lab which Sterek would be vacating shortly. Viv did not wait for him and went back to the dormitory instead where she found a bleary-eyed Ereska recovering from two straight nights of intense socializing. Apparently it had involved a lot of drinks.

“The talent hunting season has started in earnest. I must say, I expected a couple of people to ask about your puppet, Rakan, but I underestimated the racial tensions dominating the city.”

The younger woman considered Viv through half-lidded eyes.

“You won’t be able to stay away from the scene forever, you know? The end of the semester will have group activities. With your talent, you will be piled on unless you can form alliances. Isolation sends all sorts of wrong signals to those around you.”

“I know, I will also pay for not networking early but right now I am too busy with vital things.”

“Well, yes. You also have the support of the faculty of medicine. There will be a restart of the social scene later in the year. We will see if we cannot get you accepted then. But I digress. I am sure you are busy and I need to attend to my headache.”

And Viv was busy.

At the Academy, it was understood that the weekend would be employed to fulfill social obligation and catch up on homework. Viv had exactly one afternoon and one evening to complete two essays, practice spells, and review material for the next classes.

Fortunately, Rakan offered to help. The young man was not aware Viv was out and he showed obvious signs of relief when she told him she’d gone to the city.

“I can’t leave the Academy’s domain,” he told her as they settled in a deserted corner of the library.

“Or rather, I can but my sister asked me not to and she’s been worried lately.”

“She’s a hunter, right?”

“Yeah, there are a lot of jobs right now with laborers going to harvest faraway orchards. Soon it’s going to be fall and that’s the busiest season around here. That’s what she said. Errr sorry that’s probably not very interesting. Anyway, sis said that the city wasn’t safe for people like us right now. You know what I mean.”

“Hallurians. Yeah, I heard there are tensions.”

“More like straight shakedowns,” Rakan growled.

He shook his fist with an anger that bubbled under his shy personality.

“It’s not fair. We don’t support the warlords. None of us here do, we all ran away! Why can’t they understand that we want the warlords here even less than you guys? I mean, even less than the locals. We’re traitors in their eyes. They find us and we die.”

“Wait, is your sister alone outside then?”

“She’s part of a hunting team. They are out of the city right now, that’s why she asked me to wait until her return. She’ll get money and then get a permanent place to stay somewhere close. Safer that way. Thugs don’t like to annoy the Academy.”

“Yeah it’s probably better not to go out alone,” Viv said after doing just that on repeated occasions.

“Anyway, shall we? You help with Old Imperial and I help with enchanting?”

“Deal.”

Viv was rewarded for her efforts later that night when they were done with most of their work.

Arcane Constructs: Beginner 9