The Third Steps: Chapter Thirty

Perhaps it was just luck, perhaps the world had decided to let us rest, perhaps the animals had, in their own way, heard about what we had d

Perhaps it was just luck, perhaps the world had decided to let us rest, perhaps the animals had, in their own way, heard about what we had done, but as we made our way back, nothing stopped to attack us, even when we made stops along the way to bury mana sources, restock natural treasures, and tend to the land. We wound up spending one night in Dusk, taking a rest, before we finally left. I stepped out of the cordon with a strange mix of feelings: guilt at being a part of the problem that had contributed to the Flock’s emergence, hope that I’d done something that I could be proud of, and a sense that one way or another, I’d grown much closer to where I wanted to be. 

Meadow found us soon after we arrived in the town, and we spent the time filling her in as she listened patiently. She didn’t pass judgement on me for giving the Flock a chance, nor did she tell me I’d done well, or delve into the complications that existed in its mere existence. Instead, she simply pulled me into as tight of a hug as her frail body could manage, and I hugged her back. Though I couldn’t place exactly what emotion it was, I began to cry, and she simply held onto me, gently rubbing my back as she did. When we finally broke apart, she gave me a sad smile. 

“I can’t say that walking your own way will ever get better or easier. But I can say that you did what you thought was right, and that’s perhaps the most important thing anyone can do. I’ll see about commissioning the Countermage, the Merchant, or Orykson to build or find you a containment vessel for the Flock, just in case.” 

“You don’t have to–” I started to say, but Meadow simply shook her head to cut me off. 

“It’s my job to guide you and help you reach as far as you can, for as long as I’m around and as long as you’re willing to listen to me. I’m not wealthy, I can’t provide an endless stream of advancement resources and magical items to you in the way Orykson once did. But I can do this for you.” 

“Thank you,” I said, and she nodded, before I turned to Kene and gave them a tired, soft smile. “Ready to cash in on our goods?” 

“If you are,” they said, taking my hand and squeezing it. 

I squeezed back and nodded, then we headed to the hamlet’s trading hall. Though not something that such a small town would normally have, its presence along the cordon made it the perfect spot for the pseudo-legal trade of the goods acquired within the deepest, forbidden areas of the forest. Though the Naturalists frowned on it, as long as everything was reported properly for the purposes of taxes, and none of the items, goods, and services provided were explicitly illegal, it was allowed to continue operation.

Though a part of me wanted to hold onto all of the various items we’d looted from the Flock and sell them somewhere else, in order to avoid stimulating the economy and trade around exploiting the Cordon, I ultimately bent the knee to practicality. Even considering only the things we were willing to sell, we had pulled a bit more money than average compared to most teams in such a short amount of time – and had made it back with everyone alive, which was even more rare – it was a drop in the bucket compared to the sum totals that trading halls like this saw each fiscal quarter, and withholding it wouldn’t make an actual impact. 

In the end, booking time with one of their appraisers, going through everything, and letting Kene argue prices, took several hours, and it was well into the afternoon by the time we left. Between the cut the trade hall took, the taxes, splitting it three ways – Dawn saw no point in money and didn’t want it – and the conversion fees to Mossfordian Silver Standards, I hadn’t expected to make much but I was surprised. Even with all of those, I still walked away with close to seven thousand silver. 

It put some context into why people were so willing to head into the cordon for money. A team of three delving as a full time job would be able to pull out close to a million silver in a year. It also, unfortunately, put some context into why the government was so unwilling to tighten the cordon, despite the legal issues, clear destruction to the environment, and high mortality rate. 

We left the hamlet shortly after that, heading for the nearest town, and as we did, I immediately began to feel less… slimy. I wasn’t sure how else to describe it, but as we sat at a coffee house, waiting for our appointment with the Naturalists, I found myself relaxing. As the server placed down the apple turnover and iced coffee next to me, the walnut scone and hot coffee for Kene, and a hot black coffee with chicory in it for Meadow, I began to spread my mana senses through the town. I did so a bit more subtly than usual, leaning heavily on blending with ambient energy, Sky Dragon’s Senses, and Soulgaze to sweep around the town’s public roads and alleys. 

Soulgaze was a strange spell. I wished that I’d thought to try and cast it while I was a disembodied soul within the Flock’s soulself, as I had a gut instinct that the spell was somehow identifying those strange glowing purple veins that moved through the caverns, and met together to form the ball of mist. I didn’t know what exactly that strange mist-water-mana was, and went through several mental theories before eventually just looking over to Meadow. 

“What’s the mist within the Soulself?” 

“Not as easy of a question as you might have expected,” Meadow said, pursing her lips as she took a sip of coffee. “It’s got several names, but the most common are Intent, Identity, and Will. It flows through the veins you saw, and imparts itself everywhere in the mana-garden. Most believe that’s what empowers an Arcanist’s resonance to such a high degree.” 

“I’ve heard of Will before. Can it be expended, like mana or soul mana?” Kene asked, leaning forward curiously, and Meadow tilted her hand back and forth. 

“The amount of Identity a person can bring to bear isn’t static, but nor can it be spent like mana or soul mana. It’s… baser… than that, and is also more linked to directing resonance.”

“That seems similar to resolve,” I commented, curious to see if Meadow would correct me or not. 

“Only on the most superficial level,” Meadow said, shaking her head. “Think of it this way: when you form a Nascent Truth, you’re tapping into deeper principles than ordinary language. It’s why there’s some sway with what each Truth is and does, but it’s severely limited. While it’s possible to jump through hoops to pretend that the Nascent Truth of Hate should help healing, because you don’t like being hurt, it won’t work. Because as much as you or I can say that, we know that it’s not really what hate means.” 

“There’s room for personal interpretation,” Kene jumped in. “The Truth of Sand can probably be used to empower a glass or some stone spells, even though the sand isn’t sand anymore, but no amount of delusion will let the Truth of Sand empower a fireball.” 

“Right. So Identity or Will or Intent or what have you is… the Nascent Truth of You?” 

“In a way,” Meadow agreed. “It’s a composite of how you view yourself, the limitations that you have placed on yourself in advancement, and seemingly how the world and other people view you. And so, the mist of your Identity can grow or shrink, just as a Nascent Truth can. There are also techniques to compress or diffuse your Identity, and to use it for digging out roots, which I’ll save until you’re at least at the peak of fourth gate, and can feel your Identity better.”

I nodded, taking a bite of the apple turnover while I processed the new information, then framed it in conjunction with what I was trying to do. 

“When the soulsight spell latches onto a person and gets a sense of their mana and who they are, it’s also reading the leakage of the second layer of the soul into the first,” I said. “Does that mean it’s essentially reading Intent? Will it allow me to gauge how much or little someone has?” 

“I suspect, yes, it is reading Identity. There are a variety of mental spells that can give much more detailed feedback, and even allow for interaction – we’ve discussed how it’s possible for mind mages to interact with the soulself early. I don’t know if yours will allow that. It has a considerable amount of mental and knowledge energy in it, but it’s still fundamentally a death spell. Then again, it is another part of the soul.” 

She shrugged, and I accepted that, leaning back and returning my attention to casting my senses across the city, gently brushing Soulgaze along people as I moved. I didn’t linger any longer than I would with letting my mana senses brush past someone on the street, but I felt that I needed to do this, to remind myself of the truth that most of the people in Obsidian Forest were good, messy, complicated, normal people. Some of them could be rude, sure, but that was just as true in Mossford as it was in Obsidian Forest. I’d had creeps hit on me and librarians nearly mock my gender presentation. But that didn’t mean everyone was rude, nor that everyone was greedy, nor that everyone wanted to participate in an economic system that was filled with more holes than alpine cheese. 

In the end, as I sat there, the power began to dig deeper into my spirit as the roots of the tree in my mana-garden extended, and Soulgaze was ingrained. The ingrained effect wasn’t as dramatic as gaining a new sense in the vein of my lifesense, deathsense, and spatial sense, but it was arguably even more potent: my sense for the mana-gardens of those around me sharpened. 

It wasn’t the same as Analyze Mana-Garden giving a report of what mana type someone had, and identifying key powerful spells. No, this was beast magic used by horned rabbits, evolved over time. Instead, it gave a… vibe. A sense. I was able to more sharply feel the healing magic flowing from Kene’s life and solar gardens, as well as the plant magic from Meadow. I could feel the spatial magic from the barista, bent and folded in a way that suggested they were building their garden specifically to enchant spatial rings.

The representative of the Naturalists arrived then, and I passed over all of the lost spatial rings. She seemed shocked by the sheer amount, and checked to make sure I didn’t want to return them myself, before passing over the standard payment for returning a lost ring. The fact that they had that was interesting, and actually did put a bit of a good spin on the Forest’s government for me, as it incentivised actually returning belongings to the family, rather than looting rings out of greed. She left not long after, and I found myself pulling out the large mushroom that I’d taken from the stock of natural treasures. It could induce spell growth or advancement in a fungal spell. I just needed to decide which one…