5.13 Debriefing

Difference: Minimal

AN: Fun fact - I found out that the spellcheck I have been using after getting sick and tired of Grammarly has disabled its free functionality and just turned off. I did not realize this until after editing the chapter... and possibly some previous chapters. I did another sweep, so I hope there are not too many typos.

As it turned out, Everen, the Blightmonger was not Named, merely titled. As were all known undead who embodied a Truth. While Raveners were still relatively common, especially those with just a single Domain, those who had reached that great leap higher were so exceedingly rare there was no official name for them as a group. Instead, the Federation assigned each of them a title, and a name if it was known, or a monicker otherwise. Not that those were widely disclosed. Only those with Domain or extraordinary background could expect access to those lists.

“The former Duke of Cyan may well soon be known as the Stolen Prophet,” Wesuvian explained. “Or some such - I personally take no part in the titling. Once he is risen, though there is no telling how soon that will be. At the very least it is not yet, otherwise the ambush here would not have been so successful.”

“Hopefully, he will emerge much diminished,” Elizabeth nodded.

“Yes, but there is only so much that oaths and passive prevention can accomplish agains millenia old necromancers. Hence why him being taken without a proper chance to proactively degrade his Soul before death has been cause for so much alarm.”

“Yes, indeed,” Elizabeth simply nodded. Unlike Irwyn, it was likely not new information for her. “But may I ask why you and Calm are meeting us like this?”

“Ezax had dispatched Calm to discuss certain arrangements after the ambush. As I cannot safely return to my planned schedule without a proper vessel, I can choose to take care of them myself. First of, Magelord Azalat!”

“Yes?” The man gingerly stepped forward, all eyes shifting to him.

“With my authority as High Inquisitor, I am going to apply censorship over many matters of this event.”

“What?” He recoiled, seemingly shocked. His hesitation immediately turned to outrage. “On what grounds?!” 

“You misused the Rot as means to garner information on a political adversary. It is fully up to my discretion to strip that information and any surrounding context that I deem necessary. Which, in this case, I shall.” And with that, there was a wave of something coming from the inquisitor. Irwyn hesitated to call it mana, because it felt both familiar and different. And very subtle. It could best be felt by how it impacted against the target and clashed with the man’s Domain rejecting the intrusion with all its might.

“Wait! Give me a moment to consult with my family!” The Magelord exclaimed, almost tumbling over himself.

“Continue resisting and I will crack your Domain by force. You have done very little to earn my patience over the past century with your halfhearted efforts and repeated incompetence throughout most Wars.”

The mage looked around and quickly realised that there indeed was no one on his side. The Inquisitors obeyed their superior without question while no one from Irwyn’s group was going to possibly step in. He gulped nervously, but soon surrendered and allowed the magic to flow into him. The whole process took no more than ten seconds afterwards, which was actually ridiculously long given how fast the mind of the High Inquisitor had to be moving.

“He will be unconscious for ten minutes,” Wesuvian declared when she was done. Despite that, the Magelord was actually still standing upright. “You will safeguard him once I give you leave.”

“Self-censoring as well, High Inquisitor?” The woman in red and white asked.

“Rising star protocols, applied harshly. For everyone involved in the mission. Be done by the end of the hour. Has anyone who has interacted with them been taken?”

“No,” the woman answered.

“Good. You are dismissed,” Wesuvian said, and they all briefly saluted before heading off, taking the unconscious Magelord with them.

“Rising star protocols?” Irwyn had to ask.

“You are not the first talented group of children, slanted for likely leadership given a few decades,” the Inquisitor’s detached head explained. “It is standard practice to deny the Rot insight into your personalities and competences when it comes to one-time comrades you may not see again for years, if ever. That it also serves to shield you politically is a convenient side effect.”

“I thought the Inquisition takes no sides,” Elizabeth pointed out.

“Your father has made a compelling case as for why keeping you shielded is beneficial for the Federation’s War efforts. The image of impartiality is vital, but small acts can be considered with sufficient incentives.” 

“Not that the protection is likely to be complete in this case,” Calm interjected. “The undead had seen you show some of your capability from what Ezax has glimpsed himself. The odds are, they will subtly spread the information in order to sow discord.”

“Is that how you set up the ambush?” Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Father was watching us inside the vault?”

“He had noticed unexpected concentration of the Rot within,” the High Inquisitor nodded. “Since the insides would be impenetrable to almost anyone else, there was a high chance the undead would assume the Federation doesn’t have up-to-date information on the real threats or any means to send warnings down. Therefore, there was a notable chance that a Truth bearing undead could be sent to intervene. Realising this possibility, Ezax had invited me to help him lay a trap. It was by no means guaranteed, but the guess was correct this time.” 

“More importantly, how will the undead spread this?” Irwyn returned to a prior point. “Won’t anything coming out of a dead mouth just be dismissed?”

“They will find random soldiers from your prior assignments, then insert memories of witnessing unlikely feats from you,” Wesuvian answered easily. “Planted competently enough that it will be difficult to detect and those testifying will really believe what they shall spout. From there, rumours will spread and inevitably reach the spy networks that most noble families maintain to some extent, even if the Duchy of Black likes to use other euphemisms for their informants. We cannot protect every mortal soldier, nor can we ban a specific rumour without causing interest in it. It is basically inevitable.”

“Which is why you have a new assignment,” Calm added. “Or rather, a similar assignment in a different location. Someplace where it will not be possible to definitely confirm any of these rumours, even when everyone is ready to search for a traveling group performing outsourced Inquisitorial duties.”

“The Duchy of Red?” Elizabeth immediately guessed.

“Not quite, though the Archduke would have likely also allowed your presence. But that is where the branch families will assume you will have gone - everyone expects the Duchy of your other element to be the first choice,” Calm said. “Instead, the Archduke of Teal was asked and has graciously accepted. You will move on to his Duchy where he just so happens to be forming a task force to perform similar inspections at larger strategic holdings.”

“Will this not gather his attention?” Alice spoke up unexpectedly.

“Yes, he will certainly be curious. About each of you, I expect. But he is a reasonable man, and the Named are hard to tempt by the fortunes or miseries of children.”

“It sounds like it has been arranged already, no matter what we might have to say,” Elizabeth sighed, turning to Calm. “When are we leaving?”

“Five… four… three,” the man said with a smile. 

Irwyn blinked, then there was another man standing besides Calm. Handsome with a chin held high and a brilliant smile. His eyes glimmered with iridescent blue, as did his strange baggy clothes. Much more importantly than that, Irwyn could not feel a hint of magic from him. Supposedly, truly hiding a Domain was impossibly difficult. That suggested the man was embodying something far greater still.

“Wesuvian,” he greeted, ignoring everyone else for the moment. “How many times have I warned you to not lose your head?”

“I am not in the mood,” the Inquisitor’s prior triumph slipped right off of her face.

“You never are. The answer was ‘I have not actually lost it’. A child could have guessed that, Wes.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“A child, Wes! Speaking of, hello there,” the man finally turned towards them. “You must be the new recruits.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth nodded. “Who…”

“I am taking you with me, as has been agreed,” he interrupted, then dismissed Elizabeth. “Wes, do you need to grab anything first?”

“...”

“I didn’t catch that.”

“No.”

“Alright,” the man nodded with a mischievous grin, then they were elsewhere.

Irwyn blinked. There had been no transition. No trace of mana being channeled into or around him. Unlike any teleportation he had experienced before, there had been no sign of it. Not a trace of magic had been perceptible at any point. And then he was standing right next to an extravagant fountain, right at the doorstep of a sprawling mansion.

“You can linger at the guest house, but please don’t leave the premises,” the man explained. “Me or someone else will be back in five or so hours and give you further instructions.”

“The High…”

“Is now safely in the care of the Duke of Green. Probably deflecting her every flirt like only a stone wall can. Though let me tell you, do not let that woman catch a glimpse of either of you, pretty girls, you are just the age she likes them.”

Then the man was gone, refusing to elaborate on that tidbit. Everyone exchanged a confused glance.

“You know, the Duke of Green suddenly sounds much more interesting,” Desir commented with a dry chuckle.

“Or it’s just a malicious rumour. He seemed like the type. Whoever that actually was,” Elizabeth shook her head.

“You don’t know?” Irwyn asked.

“I don’t know what every Truth mage in the Federation looks like. I have seen all the Dukes on social occasions, so that wasn’t the Archduke, but that is all I can say for sure. The Duchy of Teal has three besides him, so I could technically guess a name at random.”

“He is probably listening to our reactions,” Alice added. “It’s what I would have done while messing with people.”

“Why just listen? Watching must be just as easy,” Desir pointed out. “No hiding from a Truth mage for the likes of us.”

“Is Waylan actually with us?” Irwyn belatedly realised.

“Aye,” the sneak said, not appearing. “Cu… He winked at me like five times too.”

“I never saw him winking, that’s a fun party trick,” Desir said thoughtfully.

“We should head inside,” Elizabeth pointed towards the sprawling manor. All Irwyn could really say about it was that it seemed distinctly different in style from what he had seen in city Black, but he was by no means learned in high-end architecture.

It seemed that the staff had even less prior notice than them as they witnessed teams of scrambling servants. Several of them were visibly running around further inside. Irwyn noted that unlike the Duchy of Black, their uniforms did not distinguish between men and women, all wearing well-fitted vests with mostly blue shades. At the front door, a single older woman was anxiously standing.

“Sirs, Ladies, welcome,” she bowed. “I hope you will excuse some tardiness. We were not expecting guests, and thus performing minor maintenance. Naturally, everything will be done to accommodate you to proper standards.”

“No matter,” Elizabeth just handwaved, which seemed to calm the woman down a lot.

“If you would like a guide, I will be happy to show you around.”

“I could use a nap,” Desir said thoughtfully. “That means touring the countless bedchambers this place surely has to find one worthwhile.”

“As if,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes for some reason. “We will be doing a debriefing. Is there a suitable room for that?”

“There is a dedicated conference room for formal settings and a much more casual parlor.”

“The latter.”

So the maid - if that was even the right term - led them up a flight of winged stairs in the entry hall, then down two corridors to a rather snug parlor. A circle of couches stood around a coffee table, all indeed looking rather comfortable. There were paintings on three of the walls while the last opened into a wide window that showed a meticulously kept garden. The room was also illuminated by warm magical lights.

Elizabeth dragged Irwyn into a smaller couch where she basically had to lean over him to be comfortable. Meanwhile, Desir and Alice sat opposite to them with significantly more space. Waylan was being the wildcard as per usual. For all Irwyn knew, he could be hiding beneath the table.

“I shall bring refreshments right away,” their guide then bowed and quickly left.

“Bring your best tea leaves, I will brew them myself,” Elizabeth added to her parting back.

“Of course,” the woman quickly turned, gave another bow, and finally departed.

“This is weird,” Alice commented as soon as she was gone. Elizabeth had already erected a veil of secrecy around them by then. “All the staff are all whispering about us, mostly in fear.”

“Why is that strange?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Servants always act as such on the first meeting or two.”

“Only if they have a reason to fear,” Desir sighed. “Which they didn’t in Steelmire and probably most places Alice has visited. Because there, the service staff were universally people with rights. On the other hand, in the old estates of the Coloured Capitals, that is where the most entrenched and entitled nobility resides, and servants are considered part of the real estate. A mage with background here does not need to think overmuch if they ‘chip some paint’, so to speak.”

“I haven’t ever heard any stories about servants being slaughtered,” Elizabeth frowned.

“Of course, why would anyone mention something so uncouth to a young noble lady?” Desir easily challenged. “You certainly never asked, did you? But the servants know, because they tell the worst stories to each other. That one will beat you if you look at him wrong. The other one goes into murderous rage when drunk, so keep away. Therefore, if they don’t know whether you are one of the ‘bad’ nobles, a part of their brain will assume the worst - it’s a survival instinct of prey animals.”

“And I thought all depressing shit would be about the undead,” Waylan appeared on one of the couches. Not in the seat, but at the top of the frame, where he was sitting directly behind Alice and messing with her hair.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, and in the same breath teleported the thief upside down onto the coffee table. Waylan deftly turned that into a roll and landed on his feet, honestly surprising Irwyn with the deftness of the move. As if… he had expected it and had much practice. Just how often had Alice done something like that in the year or so they had been apart?

“Debriefing,” Elizabeth declared once Waylan failed to fumble the landing. “I know we haven’t really done these in the past, but this was our first proper operation against the undead, and I think it best we consider what went wrong. And what went a little too well, because the Rot will not let that happen again.”

“First off then, I was baffled by how unprepared they were for Alice,” Desir spoke up. “The Ravener was at least part Time, right? How come it had so few subordinates that could do anything with the same element?”

“There has been a long term shortage of Time mages for about 60 years now, as the Duchy of Teal had suffered devastating loses to their rank and file mages. The pressure had led to the rise of an Archduke though, so it is likely to be beneficial long term.”

“Yes, I overheard the Inquisitors mention that, but I assumed the undead would have them instead.”

“No, not truly. I recall they targeted the Duchy through a plague that specifically spread through the casting of teleportation magic, which caused massive casualties in a very short span of time before countermeasures were put in place. But it also meant they recovered almost none of the bodies or Souls. Therefore, the shortage exists on both sides.”

“If the Rot could do that, why isn’t it happening constantly?” Irwyn shuddered at the thought.

“Because it’s too difficult to manufacture,” Alice explained. “My grandfather told me about it once, since he was also consulted on creating countermeasures. The undead had likely spent decades or even centuries preparing that one devastating attack, but if they tried the exact same thing again, the Federation now has a dedicated ‘cure’ which can completely neuter the whole plague basically the moment it is detected at a fraction of a fraction of the cost that such a magical contagion uses up in creation. The Rot would need something radically innovative or so old even the Federation has lost the knowledge of how to counter it.”

“The attempts still happen once every few wars, but usually with little success on the enemy side,” Elizabeth added. “The one from 60 years ago is notable because it had actually caused substantial damage.”

“Alice should experiment more then,” Irwyn noted. “Especially with that bullet attack we pulled. If we trained it together, it could be properly devastating. I can break most barriers with brute force, but my spells are not nearly as fast as teleportation.”

“Or it will blow up in your face,” Elizabeth pointed out. “Which Irwyn will survive, but Alice might not. As I said before, the Rot will prepare countermeasures for what we have shown. Making the bullets explode as they are trying to teleport is an obvious thing to attempt.”

“Interfering against something happening inside my barrier should be difficult. By its nature it restrains all outside interference through Empyreans unreachable.”

“We are in the Duchy of Teal now,” Desir reminded. “Just get a few Time mages to help you practice and brainstorm how to best use the attack. I could join in with something Soul-based too.”

“Good idea. Just be careful of the possibility if we don’t get that chance. What next?”

“How did Waylan manage to not get teleported along with everyone?” Irwyn asked curiously.

“Stood behind the corner. Shit clearly got stopped by walls,” the sneak shrugged. “What about you, though? You were smack in the middle.”

“I felt something trying to latch onto me,” Irwyn nodded. “But when it reached for my Soul, it failed to find any purchase, I think.”

“Soul and Time. I hadn’t realised that there had been a Soul component to the spell,” Elizabeth frowned. “The inquisitors hadn’t mentioned it either. Did you notice anything, Desir?”

“Nope,” the shapeshifter shook his head.

“The device may have been designed by the Soulcatcher,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “While it is rarely mentioned nowadays, he used to be infamous for kidnapping people from within wards even before claiming his Name. It is also known that he had never merged his Soul and Time into a prismatic element. It might have been specifically made to avoid the detection of Soul mages.”

“How would they have those designs then?” Alice wondered.

“Most likely from someone who had known them in life. Actually, it is quite possible that the Ravener was literally one of his former disciples. I will inquire later if she was identified… probably after the war is over, if I can remember. Bothering them with idle curiosity now will probably just make the Inquisition annoyed.”

“Speaking of the Raveners, is there a reason you didn’t come back for the last Senior Inquisitor?” Desir asked. “We had two Domain mages sitting on their asses and guarding a few weaker mages from an attack the Rot had no leftover capacity for. If the main battle had been more pitched or that suicide attack at the end more successful, things could have gone far worse.”

“The plan was to leave the two behind,” Elizabeth said, then paused to think. “I didn’t want my Cousin seing what I was doing… but that was rendered moot by the censorship. You are right, I could have gone to grab one more. Or even two to reduce the strain on Alice. Why did no one suggest it when we were coming up with plans?”

“Because all the Senior Inquisitors thought you would probably not make even the first trip, much less be in any state to return,” Desir grinned.

“...” Elizabeth blinked. “Really? I didn’t get that impression when everyone had agreed.”

“They are pretty stoic, but I can read the room. And listen to them reassuring their subordinates after you had left. It was never ‘have no fear, she will make it’, but rather along the lines of ‘we cannot give up and have no better options’. Overconfident nobles are probably something they deal with regularly. Just because you can actually back your words up doesn’t mean people haven’t seen ten negative examples before you.”

“I never doubted you were coming,” Irwyn assured.

“I know,” she smiled. “Though Waylan did steal my spotlight in the end. How in the Void did you manage to break the device? I was about to go get Irwyn to help me breach that damn barrier. Were you already inside?”

“Yep,” he grinned. “As for the breaking, well, I got this passion project for strolling into vaults. Desir helped me prepare something.”

“The stale divine ichor we have harvested is decently corrosive towards magic, especially if its settled, like in enchantments. And when Waylan isn’t snacking on it, it can kind of… gain whatever properties you want it to have - though that is simplifying the annoying mental gymnastics needed for anything useful. With some tinkering and very amateurish alchemy, I have managed to turn it into something akin to acid for magic.”

“That’s pretty fascinating,” Elizabeth commented with sudden interest.

“Well, it cannot really burn through much, nor can it be manufactured in any scalable quantity, both because of materials and difficulty,” Desir shrugged. “I had to go back down to intentions to make an active barrier weak enough for it to actually burn through. And it basically does nothing to mundane covers or even skin. It’s only useful for exposed enchantments. Even a basic metal cover will render the concoction useless. ”

“Thats what I also carry the steel melting acid for,” Waylan sagely pointed out.

Then the old servant lady finally returned, along with three others who carried several platters of highly varied snacks. She had also brought Elizabeth a teaset with a selection of leaves, much to Alice’s dismay. Once the staff were gone, the conversation began turning away from the productive and more towards just chatting. It was pretty nice. 

Eventually, that got broken up by Elizabeth declaring it was a good time for magical practice. That burned up the rest of the hours. By the end, Irwyn had almost forgotten that they had a meeting with a Named being scheduled soon.