The Third Portal: Chapter Twenty-Two

Two days after Orykson’s arrival, I finally made enough progress on digging out the steps of my spatial and temporal mana-gardens to hit a wall, and I prepared myself for a breakthrough. 

Much like Kene and Dusk’s first breakthroughs back in Delitone, Meadow had taken an Analyze Mana-Garden potion, and joined me as I picked up the stick that I’d been using and stabbed at the ground. Dawn landed next to me and used her claws to scoop out dirt, while Dusk did the same – ineffectually. Dusk was here via a potion as well, and couldn’t make changes to my mana-garden the same way Dawn’s strange full-gate spell did. 

My stick struck the hard wall of mist, and I focused my will, stabbing again harder, and then harder a third time, until with a long shudder, the power broke and rushed through my mana-garden. Again, the steps were forged into the smooth cream and brown of coastal travertine stone. I stacked the bricks up on the walls, then Meadow, Dusk, Dawn and I all moved to my temporal mana. 

My breakthrough there was smooth and clean. The pressure put off by the imbalance wasn’t as extreme with steps as it was for actual gates worth of breakthroughs, and I certainly wasn’t looking forward to breaking into fourth gate, but for now, entering mid-third was easy enough. 

“Now we should check the Beastgate,” I said, standing and stretching. Meadow agreed, and we headed into the crystal spire within my mana-garden that led to my hudau mana. We walked – or in the case of Dusk and Dawn, flew – over the hexagonal crystal tiles. 

I let out a sigh of relief as I saw that the tile had transformed into a set of steps, though these seemed to still be made of the crystalline hexagons as the rest of the gate. 

It should have done it on its own – it had for first and second gate, and Spellbonds were supposed to grow as the user did. With Dusk, our strengthening connection was obvious, and with Dawn, I’d been granted a growing reserve of soul mana. But my beastgate had come as a result of nearly killing myself with a powerful spellbond, and was thus pretty unpredictable. 

A part of me wondered just how the Ephemeral Rebirth would grow. It was the result of focusing a lot of power into my full-gate spells and my spirit trying to make up for my near death. Would it be able to store multiple rebirths? Would it need less power to charge up? I wasn’t sure. 

But that was getting down a mental tangent. The shifting wall of multicolored light had moved back, and exposed two more tiles, polished finely. I considered for a moment if I should try the world tortoise spell again, but my spirit felt sore just thinking about it. 

No, I might be able to try and use that more normally at peak third gate, but not for now. 

“Excellent,” Meadow said as she surveyed the tiles. “I have a few recommendations. Should we return to the real world?” 

I nodded and left my mana-garden, so that I was sitting on the public bench next to Meadow again.

“You should seek out the Phantom Hand sect, now that you’ve got some reputation with them. Their mana manipulation techniques might help you in storing things like your tail inside your soul-mana, if you wanted.”

“Ah, yeah,” I said. “I meant to, but after hearing about Kris’ attitude towards the ants, I kind of wrote them off.” 

“You should still learn some of their techniques, even if you don’t like them,” Meadow pointed out. “But I also have some spell recommendations. First is Foxfyre.” 

“Am I just learning every possible fox spell?” I asked, snorting as my tail twitched. “I mean, Curse of the Wild Spirit came from a rare breed of hudau foxes. I could call it Foxbite.” 

Dusk pointed out that I also had dragon spells, and I snorted. 

“True. Fox-dragon, then.”

“No, but the Ninelight Binding spell creates synergies between spells. Fox spells have some synergy in and of themselves. But even if you didn’t have so many fox spells, I’d still suggest Foxfyre.” 

“Why’s that? What is it? A spell from a flamefox?” 

“Ah, no, that’s… Well, their spells are probably also called Foxfyre, if I were to guess. But I meant a specific third gate spell from nine tailed fox breeds, with a few traits. It’s a ball of purple fire that can be launched at opponents.” 

“I’m not sure I need another offensive spell,” I admitted. “My Mantle Dragonfire is already overkill for most situations. A differently colored fireball is just another deadly technique.”

“That’s actually exactly why I recommend it,” Meadow said. “It’s not a fireball, it’s just an orb of fire, roughly the size of a cantaloupe or smaller watermelon, and only part of its power is directed towards burning. It can kill, yes, much like Briarthreads can, but it’s not a deadly spell.” 

“Ah, alright,” I said, nodding. “What does it do, then? Is it some sort of disorientation fire?” 

“It has two benefits that are the reason I think it would be a good technique for you,” Meadow explained. “First, it chews through mana. With your Curse of the Wil–”

“Foxthorn,” I interrupted. “It comes from a fox and drives thorns of hudau mana into a person, so it may as well make it sound like it. The other name was too long anyways.”

Meadow chuckled and nodded. 

“Your Foxthorn can eat up the mana they have in their garden, but it won’t let you punch through a wall of force. Foxfyre does. It burns external mana in spells,” she explained. “The second reason is indeed illusion based. The spell can be fired from illusions and projections. Things like an illusionary copy of yourself can release orbs of Foxfyre. With Ghosteyes, you may even be able to attack from your tethered ghosts.”

I felt my eyebrows creep up, and I nodded. 

“Yeah, that would definitely be useful,” I agreed. “It would let me lean into my disorientation based combat style when I’m fighting normally, but its ability to burn through forged mana means it wouldn’t lose use in a more dangerous fight.” 

“Exactly,” Meadow agreed. “There’s a Huli Jing somewhere on the island. You could seek her out, and see if she will show you the spell.” 

Ivy had told me about that, the leader of the local branch of the Nightheart guild, so I nodded. 

“I could do a decent impression of a kitsune by combining Lesser Image Recall, Material Echo, Foxfyre, and Foxstep. Maybe throw in Foxswap as well, now that I’ve got the spare mana to cast it.” 

“That’s not a bad idea,” Meadow agreed. “With a mask and a bit of training, you might be able to pass off as some sort of variant of them in the tournament, only to then surprise them with the rest of your magic after, but that’s something for the future.” 

“Yeah, you said that you had a few other ideas?” 

“I do,” Meadow agreed. “Too many, in all honesty. The nine tailed fox also has the spell Mold Aura that allows them to redirect the source of their mana in other’s senses to anywhere within their own sensory range, and when ingrained, they can choose to highlight certain aspects of their mana. You could highlight your life mana, for example, to give off a much stronger impression of a life mage than your other aspects.”

“Oh, that would have some great synergy with blending my mana aspects into nature, and would even further mess people up who try to trace my teleports through mana senses,” I said to Meadow’s nod. “What else?” 

“Let’s see. Other useful third gate spells I could see would be the Stone Gate or Antburden used by portal-ants, Kanko’s Blessing, Cwn Anwnn’s Hunt, Cavern Dragon’s Flight,  Kludde’s Weight, Ermine’s Prey, or Denglong’s Might,” Meadow said immediately. “And of course, there’s the spell you already have from the tortoise you met.” 

“Okay, I think I get the rest, but why Cavern Dragon’s Flight? I would assume for a pure flight spell, I’d want to go with a sky dragon, or maybe a forest dragon.” 

“It’s not a perfect flight spell, it won’t allow you to compare to dusk, but most draconic flight spells support their wings. This instead focuses on altering gravity, air pressure, force, and other factors. It lets you fly slowly on its own, but it really shines when combined with other movement spells or potions, lessening the burden on them and helping you move more.” 

“Ahh, yeah, I suppose that explains how that one snake flew,” I said, nodding as I remembered the cavern dragonblood serpent I’d fought in the Idyll-Flume. “But as much as I’d love to go into the specifics of all of those, I don’t think piling on a bunch of new powers is ideal right now, especially since I’m going to have to get some more space and time spells anyways. I’ll try and chase down Foxfyre at some point, and grab the aura spell in case I decide I want it. For right now, I’m full on mana, so I’ve got to work on the teleportation platforms.” 

To my surprise, Meadow looked slightly ashamed by that. 

“I suppose I must apologize for slacking on my role as your mentor,” she said, and I glanced over at her, confused. 

“I’m not sure I follow,” I said with a frown. “I think you’ve done a great job. You’ve advised me on breakthroughs, synergies, and my overall path. You negotiated with Ikki and Orykson to have them teach me, helped redesign Tortoise Time, and showed me a ton of new potions. You’ve done great.” 

“Thank you, dear. There is one area where I have distinctly been failing, however. Subsidizing your advancement.”

“I don’t know about that,” I said, shaking my head. “You’ve still helped a lot. I don’t do as well with the specific deadlines to learn specific spells, though… I’ll admit that there is some use for those. I’ve only really started embracing psychometry recently.”

At the same time, I did somewhat understand what she meant. Orykson had constantly been setting deadlines, yes, but beating those deadlines always came with a reward. Meadow’s more relaxed style had accidentally also meant less rewards. I hadn’t exactly needed them, but it was true. 

“Still, I feel that I should make some contributions to you,” Meadow said. 

A box of simple carved wood appeared on her lap, and she passed it over to me. I opened it, revealing a tangle of mycelium within. 

“Fairy-circle toadstools,” Meadow explained. “When grown around a location with a teleportation platform or the like, they can add some of their own spatial mana into the workings, helping reduce the mana cost. There should be enough in there for your place here, the log in Delitone, your father’s backyard, and of course, in Dusk.” 

“Thank you,” I said, “I’ll start planting this right away!” 

Meadow and I gardened and talked for a while, and I began setting up the teleportation platform again. It took me many more days to complete the teleportation circle, but two weeks after the desolant hunt, it was done. 

During the time that I had leading up to the completion, I made lots of calls on the communication mirror – I talked to Kene and my Dad, catching them up on what had happened and letting them know I was looking forward to seeing them. 

And, of course, I spoke with Liz’s grandfather, hammering out an agreement for trade. Guilds were given their own stipend of points to start the ball rolling, and as such, he was willing to make two deals, I just needed to figure out which one. 

I could be paid a lump sum of five thousand points up front, and then five points a week after that, in exchange for committing at least two days a week to guild work for at least the remaining five months I was contractually obligated to be on Crysite. The number shocked me, but I had to remind myself that I was, in essence, doing the job of an exploratory Arcanist.

If that didn’t work for my sensibilities, then I could be paid five hundred points now, with one and a half percent of whatever the guild’s weekly point profits were weekly, for as long as I committed two days  a week to guild work for the same five months. 

It wasn’t actually nearly as obvious as I’d hoped it would be. In the beginning, the guild would probably be hemorrhaging points on land, construction, equipment, and more. I might not make many points at all. At least, unlike with the gold, I wouldn’t have to pay out if the points were negative. I’d just make nothing that week.

Five thousand points was a lot, and it would be most of the way to one of the top prizes. If I combined that with some more high-yield missions, like the ant mission, I might be able to clear out a prize from the most expensive list. If I did well enough for the rest of my time here, it might even be two. 

In the long run, the percentage would probably yield more, but would I be here long enough to make it worth it? I wasn’t opposed to staying on Crysite longer than my five month contract with Orykson, but I knew I’d only stay a few extra three or four months at most.

After all, many of the locations on Aerde’s list were in Unclaimed Lands in between here and Daocheng. I’d be heading in for the Elysian Mastery Tournament anyways, so it would be a great time to hit them. I wasn’t giving up that chance. 

Would those extra months outweigh the points now? Would the points now let me get a treasure like the organshield crystal sooner, which would in turn improve my ability to get more points in the future?

I didn’t know. Even Hannah agreed it would be a gamble.