Zenith of Sorcery - 4. Many-Branched Tree
Chapter 004
Many-Branched Tree
Marcus considered the Sacred Oak’s question. The true answer, of course, was that he hadn’t known there was a blessing, so how could he have possibly wondered about what the blessings did or did not do? However, Sacred Oak clearly knew that, but asked Marcus for an answer anyway, so he chose to interpret the question more broadly, as a test to see whether he could puzzle it out.
Eventually, he should ask the tree if it had a name. It was only polite. A lot of awakened animals did not, as they didn’t have intelligent parents and a society to name them, but the Sacred Oak was apparently really ancient. It had plenty of time to get an actual name it was fond of.
Putting that aside for the moment, blessing magic was hard. Using magic to enhance your own body and mind was simple enough – warrior adept paths were based almost entirely around that idea – but doing the same to other people was another story. Living beings instinctively resisted foreign magic, no matter how benign it may be in the mind of the caster. Both healing magic and blessings were severely impacted by this fact, and as such very few mages specialized in either of those. Those types of magic were largely the domain of priests and alchemists, who both had their own way of side-stepping the limitations.
Yet, Sacred Oak was said to bless hundreds of people every single year! Even if that was an exaggeration, Great Tree Academy recruited dozens of children every few years, and brought them before the Sacred Oak to be blessed en masse. That was a lot of people to bless all at once. And how long did this blessing last, anyway? The tree used some unknown magic to contact him over vast distances – something that Marcus couldn’t detect at all, despite his considerable magical expertise. If that was the blessing, as he suspected it was, then the blessing was still active after more than a decade. That… didn’t sound right. For a single mage to perform such a group blessing ceremony, not just once but repeatedly, and have it last for decades, bordered on the impossible.
Even priests could not possess this kind of proficiency with blessing magic.
Why, then, did the elders of the Great Tree Academy take the blessing so seriously? Clearly they disagreed with Marcus on the whole thing sounding impossible, and that gave him pause. Why did they believe the Sacred Oak to be able to dispense blessings so freely and prolifically? Marcus had just been a child when he attended the blessing ceremony, so it was no surprise he did not detect anything at the time… but even now, he could not detect any foreign magic on him. Could they really see something that Marcus could not detect, even after apparently living with it for years and years?
For a long while, Marcus stood before the tree in silence, pondering the question. He tapped his staff against the ground thoughtfully intermittently, his brow furrowed in a deep frown as he tried to figure out a good answer, until eventually his normal expression returned and he went back to his silent pondering. The tree remained still throughout the whole scene, saying nothing to interrupt him, displaying the sort of effortless patience only a literal tree could possess.
“The elders of the Great Tree Academy cannot see it,” Marcus stated out loud, having reached a decision. “Yet, they are certain it exists. Therefore, the blessing must be obvious in its practical effects – such that its existence cannot be denied, even if no magic can be detected.”
Marcus waited a second, but Sacred Oak said nothing. He continued.
“I never noticed anything, and neither did the other children, so it is something that an individual would not consider unusual. It is probably an enhancement of an already existing ability, but it cannot be anything physical, as that would be remarked upon by the other students, even if the recipient of the blessing did not notice.”
He paused again, hesitating. He did not like the conclusion that presented itself.
“The answer seems to trouble you,” Sacred Oak observed.
“Taking everything into account, I think the blessing makes mages more talented at magic somehow,” Marcus said. “It… would fit the conditions I just outlined. If the learning rate of an apprentice was increased before they started training their magic skills, they would never know that they were progressing unusually fast. But their teachers, who have watched countless students come and go over the years, would surely notice that those who received your blessing were showing increased results compared to those that didn’t.”
Marcus didn’t like this possibility. He was quite proud of his achievements… of the way he had progressed so quickly as an ambitious young mage, overtaking so many of his richer and more privileged peers through a combination of talent and hard work. The idea that his achievements were partially or wholly gifted to him by some outside influence didn’t sit well with him.
“There is no need to be so unhappy, my child,” Sacred Oak said. “What does it matter if your magical aptitude is an accident of birth or a blessing from a magical tree? In both cases, it is something entirely beyond your control. What matters is what you did with that aptitude, and you have much to be proud of there.”
“So I’m right?” Marcus asked, not thinking much of the tree’s platitudes. His mind still rebelled against the idea that his magical aptitude was anything but his own, and a handful of soothing words would not be enough to quell that feeling.
“You are right, but you are also wrong,” the oak tree responded cryptically. “You have focused on the wrong thing. As you have noted yourself, my blessings cannot be directly observed by anyone. Why is that? You should have focused more on the fundamental nature of the magic, rather than its practical effects. That, I assure you, is a much more interesting question.”
Marcus frowned at this. “I didn’t ignore that, it just seemed impossible to answer. Clearly the elders of the Great Tree Academy think you are a divine conduit of some sort, and the blessing cannot be seen because it’s of divine make. But if you’re backed by a literal god, then it’s quite cruel of you to ask me to figure out your secrets.”
The world was full of stories of men who coveted the secrets of the gods and paid a heavy price for trying to obtain them. Even if Marcus managed to figure out the inner workings of a genuine divine blessing, this could very well bring about utter ruin and a fate worse than death to him and those around him.
“I am not a divinity from the outer heavens, I can assure you of that,” the tree told him. “I am just an old tree that has lived through a great many things. And the reason you cannot detect my blessing is that you are looking for something foreign and alien, whereas you should be looking for a piece of yourself.”
“A piece of myself?” Marcus asked, baffled.
The ethereal soul tree inside the Sacred Oak pulsed for a moment, and the Soul Tree inside Marcus resonated with it, drawing his attention towards it.
Marcus immediately took a step back in shock, raising his staff in front of him defensively. His spirit!? But that… that couldn’t be! That was definitely not a blessing of any sort!
“Every few years, the Great Tree Academy brings their hopefuls before me, and each time I separate tiny pieces of my own soul to form into soul seeds, which I then plant inside of them,” Sacred Oak told him. “These soul seeds then slowly take root, integrating themselves into their very nature and becoming a part of them. After some time, the soul seed becomes simply another piece of the host’s soul, indistinguishable from all the rest. Yet, it also never stops being a piece of my soul as well. Thus, we are all connected, mere branches of the same great tree.”
Marcus stared at the tree with a strange expression, staff still raised in front of him, trying to process this. The idea of a foreign soul shard implanted inside of him without his knowledge or consent sounded ominous and threatening, more akin to an insidious parasite than a blessing. Was the tree telling him that as a threat? However, the fact the Oak had called him here specifically to tell him this and was speaking so openly about it set him at ease to some extent. No matter how he thought about it, it would have been more useful to the tree to keep this kind of thing a secret if it wanted to use it against Marcus in some way.
“Of course. Of course… it’s all snapping into place now. No wonder mages pursuing the Soul Tree Technique advance quickly under your blessing,” Marcus eventually said, his mind working feverishly. Although he had been intrigued by the mysterious pull inside his soul before coming here, he would have never guessed he would be facing these kinds of incredible revelations. “Having a soul fragment from a literal tree must be quite an advantage when your foundational technique is centered around growing a spiritual tree inside your soul.”
“Indeed,” Sacred Oak agreed with him. “Your wounded pride can rest easy. You are just as talented as you ever were. The foundational technique you practice simply works very well with my soul seed.”
That would also explain why Great Tree Academy was so zealous about sending their newest recruits to receive the tree’s blessings, but no other magical group cared to do so. That would be quite strange if the oak tree could improve one’s general talent for magic. However, if the other groups tried to receive the tree’s blessings and saw no results from doing so, they would likely reach the same conclusion Marcus had in the past – that it was all just a useless superstition practiced by Great Tree Academy for ceremonial purposes.
“What if someone switches to another foundational technique at some point?” Marcus asked.
“It depends on how compatible this other foundational technique is with my soul seed,” Sacred Oak said. “Alas, after us Grandfather Trees tried to exterminate humanity and wipe out all traces of civilization on the planet, the gods destroyed most of the wood-related magical traditions on the planet as punishment for our sins. As such, the likelihood of finding another compatible foundational technique is very low. Most likely, they would derive very little benefit from my soul seed after the switch.”
The tree sounded very mournful about this, but Marcus found it difficult to care after what he had just heard. The Grandfather Trees had done what?
“What was that about exterminating humanity and wiping out civilization?” Marcus tried.
“Ancient history,” Sacred Oak said dismissively. “It happened a long time ago. We should not get side-tracked from the topic at hand.”
You can’t just say something like that and then tell me not to worry about it, you stupid tree!
Was this another test? Marcus was admittedly not very learned in ancient history, but Old Pliny was quite a history enthusiast and he’d made sure all children under his care knew about the big important stuff that had happened… and Marcus didn’t remember hearing about a genocidal campaign committed by magical trees in Old Pliny’s lectures.
Marcus sighed, lowering the staff in his hand and relaxing. This… this was just too absurd.
“Your comedic timing could use some work,” Marcus complained. “I know you’re trying to set me at ease, but your jokes are in poor taste, and everything you say just makes the situation sound worse. Are you trying to make yourself look bad?”
“I apologize, my child. I was hoping to get your attention immediately after you became a spirit manifestation mage, after which I would slowly explain all this to you over the course of several meetings. Unfortunately, you didn’t seem inclined to listen back then. You ignored me, and even left this area of the world entirely. What could I do except wait? I am but a tree, after all. Only recently have you come back to this land and noticed my pull. I felt I had to capture your attention the moment we met,” the tree explained.
“You were calling me for years?” Marcus asked, surprised.
“I am not so rude nor desperate,” Sacred Oak said. “I stopped pulling at our connection once you had left the lands of the Silver League. It was only when I sensed you were back that I started the call again. I am glad you did not ignore me this time.”
“I see. So back to this whole soul fragment business…” Marcus said, trying to push the conversation back on track.
“Soul seed,” Sacred Oak corrected him.
“Sure,” Marcus said dubiously. “Soul seeds. Why… why do this? Why call me here to tell me this? Why everything?”
“This is a hard topic to explain concisely and clearly, but I will try,” the tree said. “When you fully assimilated the soul seed I placed in you and our souls intertwined, your soul became a branch of mine, and all that you are became known to me. Just as my physical branches collect sunlight and nutrients for my survival, so too my soul branches collect secrets and wisdom of the outside world… something that I, in my immobile state, would find difficult, if not impossible, to acquire otherwise. Every spell and magical technique you learn, I also learn. Every skill you master, I master. Of course, assuming it is something physically possible for an oak tree…”
“Oh,” Marcus said, feeling strangely relieved. “It’s a spying technique!”
He couldn’t say he was happy that this awakened tree had apparently been spying on him for most of his life, but honestly? It could have been a lot worse. Soul magic was capable of some very nasty effects, and a foreign soul fragment that rooted itself into his soul so firmly as to be undetectable would probably be impossible to remove. If all the tree did was spy on him, and didn’t try to enslave him or shred his soul through their connection, he was willing to overlook that.
He was still going to start looking for a way to remove it the moment he finished this meeting, of course.
“You could call it spying, I suppose,” Sacred Oak conceded. “I personally think of it as a symbiotic relationship. I give people literal pieces of myself, accelerating their magical growth and strengthening their soul, and in return I get their knowledge and magical insight. Honestly, after doing this for so many years, most of the wisdom I receive from children like you is useless. Most of it are mere duplicates of what I already have or worse – inferior versions of it. It is only when one of you reaches the rank of spirit manifestation that I truly start paying attention.”
“Ah. Because that’s when mages start developing truly original magic,” Marcus guessed.
Mages of third rank or higher have collected a certain amount of logos, and could thus start adjusting spells to be more to their liking… but that was all they could do. They could twist and modify spells they had collected from ancient masters, but they could never invent a truly original piece of magic to call their own.
Creating a novel spell could only be done by someone who had awakened a spirit of their own. Indeed, one could say that every spell was simply a single facet of the originator spirit that was used to create it. A mage practicing a fire-based foundational technique couldn’t create an ice spell, unless they had somehow incorporated the logos of ice into their spirit.
“No, that is not the reason,” Sacred Oak told him. “Once you awaken your spirit, you are finally capable of learning how to create soul seeds yourself, and can thus propagate our soul tree further outward.”
What?
This conversation, Marcus lamented, was not going the way he wanted. It was like the tree was drowning him in shocking information, and every time he thought he had a handle on it, the tree would throw another bucket of cold water onto his head.
He was seriously contemplating just throwing a fireball at the tree, just to get some kind of edge over it. It already admitted to spying on him, he had a just cause.
“Please explain this better,” Marcus told the tree.
“The ability to create soul seeds and plant them in people’s souls is not some innate ability I have as a tree,” the Sacred Oak obliged. “It is merely a spell – one which anyone who practices the Soul Tree Technique to the spirit manifestation rank can learn.”
Merely a spell, the tree said. Marcus wasn’t very knowledgeable in soul magic – necromancy was highly forbidden in most magical academies, after all – but he knew that damaging your soul in even minor ways was a bad idea and could go wrong extremely easily. Marcus had sacrificed tiny pieces of his soul to create his spellbook and a select number of other magic items, and he still remembered how long it took him to recover afterwards.
“Worry not; I will not demand payment for my tutelage,” Sacred Oak assured him.
“Is this another one of your jokes?” Marcus replied. “I would be literally expanding your spy network for you if I agreed to this. You wouldn’t even have to weaken yourself by tearing off pieces of your own soul to do it. Instead, I would be doing it for you! Demanding payment for this would be ridiculous.”
“As you prosper, so do I,” the tree admitted. “But surely you understand – if you are the one to cultivate more soul branches, then the magic they gather will flow into you.”
“I understand,” Marcus assured the tree. “But I still think-”
He stopped himself. Actually, he didn’t know what to think. What did he even understand? He needed some time to think. He needed to visit the Great Tree Academy and talk to the elders there to see what they actually knew about the tree and the blessing.
An offer of power was tempting, but he wasn’t a child anymore. He was already a powerful mage, and didn’t need to sell literal pieces of his soul for magical secrets.
“I won’t accept this,” he told the tree firmly.
“I will not force you,” Sacred Oak assured him. “Take your time and consider things. I waited six years for you to come back. I can wait a few years more, if need be.”
Marcus was annoyed at the oak. It was talking like Marcus’s agreement was already a done deal; just a matter of time. But he said nothing.
“Incidentally, did you happen to receive a divine vision?” Sacred Oak suddenly asked.
Marcus did his best to remain calm. He thought he did a pretty good job of it. Maybe his hand clutched the staff in his hand a little too tightly, but he did his best to give the tree an unreadable stoic expression.
“I ask, because I have also received one,” Sacred Oak continued. “A very confusing vision that culminated in the death of an entire world.”
“Wasn’t that our planet?” Marcus said. He actually didn’t think it was, but he wanted to hear what the tree would say.
“No, certainly not. The shape of the landmasses was completely incorrect,” Sacred Oak answered.
Interesting. Marcus didn’t remember how the landmasses looked – the tree must have received a much more detailed vision than he did. Or perhaps it was better able to withstand the mental stress of the vision, and thus captured more details than he did.
It was also interesting that this tree knew how their planet looked like, enough so to decide another planet’s landmasses did not match it.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Do you know what the meaning of the vision is, then?” Marcus asked.
“No, not at all,” the tree told him. It actually sounded somewhat vexed. “A portent of doom, most certainly… but what does the destruction of another world have to do with Chaoswood?”
“Chaoswood?” Marcus said in surprise. “What does Chaoswood have to do with this?”
“My apologies. I did not mean the recently destroyed magic academy,” Sacred Oak said. “Chaoswood is an old name for our world. You likely know it as Tasloa – the name given to it by the elves of the Silver Aeon. Your magical academies seem to have adopted many of their terms and traditions as their own.”
Marcus had never heard of any such elves. Just how old was this tree again…?
“So we were both sent a vision of distant doom by some divinity… why us, though? Is it because of some nebulous connection to trees?” Marcus asked, deciding to ignore historical questions for now.
“No, definitely not. I am certain we are not the only ones who were sent this vision. I know of at least a dozen mages that were also graced with this divine revelation within the last couple of days. Additionally, a number of mages were mysteriously incapacitated and woke up with blinding headaches, remembering nothing. Presumably their souls were not strong enough to withstand the vision to any appreciable extent,” Sacred Oak explained.
“So many…” Marcus frowned.
“They were all spirit manifestation rank or higher,” Sacred Oak said. “This is why I suspected you might have received one as well.”
“You think all spirit manifestation mages got the vision?” Marcus asked in surprise.
Everyone in the Silver League? Everyone on the planet? He had no idea gods were this powerful…
“All spirit-level adepts, and a number of powerful magical beasts such as dragons and death worms,” Sacred Oak said. “Something interesting is surely going to happen in the next decade or two.”
They spoke to one another for a few more minutes, recounting their own experience with the vision and then comparing details to see if they could get a more complete picture that way. Like Marcus suspected, Sacred Oak had a much, much more complete understanding of the vision. It was still incomprehensible overall, but Sacred Oak remembered a multitude of little details that Marcus had missed. How did it maintain the presence of mind to memorize all of that?
“We should continue this some other time, my child,” Sacred Oak eventually said. “You have given me much to think about, and I am certain you need some time to consider things as well. Feel free to come whenever you are in the mood to talk. I am not a particularly busy tree.”
“Hmm, that reminds me – do you have a name?” Marcus was suddenly reminded of his earlier musings. “If we’re going to continue interacting, I should learn how to address you properly.”
“Call me Sacred Oak,” the oak tree told him. “I have had many names over the centuries, but I have never been too attached to any of them. None of them are any more real than this. A new name for each new era.”
“Alright,” Marcus shrugged. Calling yourself ‘sacred’ was a bit arrogant in Marcus’s opinion, but then again, it wasn’t the tree itself that had picked such a name.
He left Sacred Oak in its clearing and went back to civilization. He immediately breathed a sigh of relief once he was out of its sight. It had been a long time since Marcus had met someone that made him feel so… outmatched. Yes, the tree came up on top in this conversation, and Marcus didn’t like this one bit. A part of him even wondered if he would win in a straight fight against the ancient oak.
Surely he wouldn’t lose to a tree? It couldn’t even move!
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. There was no time to sit down and relax. He was always going to visit the Great Tree Academy, if only to honor Old Pliny’s request to do so, but now that visit had acquired an additional level of importance.
* * * *
The academy was still as Marcus remembered it – a loose collection of buildings surrounded by gardens and field plots of various sizes. Cultivating magical plants was an important source of income for Great Tree Academy. Contrary to what outsiders thought, this wasn’t because the Soul Tree Technique gave people some kind of special knack for caring for plants – Great Tree didn’t have any notable spells meant for plant cultivation – but due to the soil and other conditions in the surrounding forest being perfect for a great many magical plants to grow in.
A large white tower dominated the view, its pearly walls decorated with intricate carvings of trees, gods, and animals. The images all seemed to be winding their way up the tower in a spiral pattern, as if travelling into the heavens. The tower was said to be made out of a leg bone of a gigantic dragon the founder of the academy had slain at some point in his life, but only children believed such nonsense. Dragons didn’t grow that big. That said, whatever the tower was made of, it wasn’t mundane mortar and stone, because the carvings couldn’t be damaged by a determined teenager armed with a steel knife.
He knew this because of… reasons.
Majestic white tower aside, the place was relatively small. It was just a minor academy after all. There was also no defensive wall surrounding the place, just a couple of watchtowers on the outskirts of the settlement. The kings of Elora had never given the academy permission to build a wall, fearing their power, fearing the mages there would grow too willful and independent, and Great Tree Academy hadn’t dared to defy them. Marcus was sure there were more subtle defenses protecting the academy, though; things that royal inspectors couldn’t even begin to detect. At the very least, he could feel some kind of warding field wash over him when he stepped into the inner grounds of the academy complex.
His plan, if one could call it such, was to find someone important and ask them to bring him to their leader. There was no need to be subtle. However, before Marcus could even approach the tower, the guards stationed at the entrance immediately noticed him and hurriedly ushered him in, apparently having recognized him on sight. They told him to stay put and wait in the guest room at the bottom while they fetched someone to talk to him.
That was… weird. Marcus was torn between being amused and alarmed. How did they know him? Sure, he was pretty amazing, but he hadn’t been back in Great Tree Academy in a very long while. Your average guard here shouldn’t be able to recognize him so readily. Marcus certainly didn’t recognize any of the guards. Has someone been distributing drawings of him?
He didn’t have to wait long. Soon, the guards returned with a familiar face. Although it had been a while, Marcus immediately recognized Titus. The man was very distinctive, being almost two meters tall and sporting a long, wild-looking beard. The only difference was that his hair and beard had started to go grey in places since the last time Marcus had seen him.
Titus was the sole foundation mage at the academy, and its current leader.
“Marcus!” Titus thundered. He’d always had a very loud voice, and couldn’t, or wouldn’t, talk quietly. “Thank the heavens you read my message! You chose the perfect time to return. If you had come just a few months later, those island swine would have sent another inspection.”
“What are you talking about?” Marcus asked, baffled.
“Did you not receive my message?” Titus asked, sounding a little puzzled this time.
Marcus stared blankly at the man. Old Pliny did tell him to go visit Great Tree Academy when he had the time, but not that Titus was urgently looking for him.
“You haven’t started to go senile already, did you?” Marcus asked jokingly. “How could I receive your messages? I was travelling all over the place. Where did you even send them to?”
“You brat. I was hoping you’d learn some humility out of all this, but you haven’t changed one bit! No respect for your elders!” the man tsked. “I sent messengers looking for you. I guess they failed.”
Marcus shifted in place uncomfortably. He was travelling on foot through the Sea of Leaves. Of course the messengers couldn’t find him. Who would be crazy enough to do that?
“That does beg the question, though… why are you here then?” Titus asked, giving him a judging look.
“I got a sudden urge to visit my old home, and figured it would be nice to drop by while I was in the area,” Marcus said. “You know, see some old faces, talk about what has been happening while I was gone, offer some help to the Academy if they need it…”
“Help?” Titus asked. He looked baffled at first, but his look quickly turned speculative. “Who doesn’t need help? These are troubled times, brother Marcus. What kind of help can you offer?”
“As you can imagine, my name is poorly regarded in the Hall of the Elders right now…” Marcus began.
“You don’t have to explain anything about that,” Titus said, waving his hand in front of him in a dismissive fashion. “In fact, the reason I was trying to find you is that delegations from Great Sea Academy keep coming here, asking me about your whereabouts.”
Marcus winced internally, though outward he remained calm and impassive.
“They’ve told me much of their grievances with you. I trust I don’t need to repeat them to you, yes?” Titus asked. Marcus shook his head in response. “Good.”
“What I was trying to say is that I cannot promise any of Great Sea’s resources to you,” Marcus said. “However, for anything that I can personally do…”
“I don’t want anything from those hagfishes, anyway,” Titus interrupted him. “However, they did promise me a reward or two if I’m able to bring some news of your whereabouts. If you could tell your fellow elders the next time you see them that it was I who directed you to them…”
“Sure,” Marcus said with a shrug.
“Wonderful,” Titus smiled. “Anyway, I will be blunt – the best way you can help the academy is by making a heritage tablet of your foundational technique and giving it to us for safekeeping.”
Marcus was quiet for a moment. Old Pliny heavily hinted that this was the primary thing Great Tree Academy would want from him, and it looked like it was true. However, Marcus still couldn’t understand why they wanted that so badly.
Titus seemed uncomfortable at Marcus’s silence. He was trying to look confident, but he was never much of an actor, and even being put into the leadership position of his academy didn’t change that. No doubt Titus understood that what he had asked of Marcus was no small request. For one thing, mages tended to be very protective of their magical secrets, and that was especially true for spirit manifestation mages and above. Mages derived a lot of power from the mystery surrounding their exact powers and abilities – detailed records that spelled out in detail what those abilities were could be easily used against them, if they were ever stolen, or a wrong person was given permission to study them. This was especially true in this case, because Great Tree Academy was only a small institution and didn’t even have a spirit-rank adept permanently stationed there as a protector. Could they really protect such an important secret, even if they wanted to?
The second issue was that making a heritage record like that was non-trivial. A heritage record was not just a matter of sitting down and writing instructions. Non-adepts sometimes made secret copies of foundational techniques and spells by copying words and diagrams as they saw them, thinking that would be enough. Such ‘dead records’ were quite common, and not worth much. You could not become a mage by following a foundational technique transcribed this way, nor learn a spell so naively copied. In order for a non-living item to serve as a magical record, a mage had to use their understanding of the magic to imprint it into an object – only then could another mage attune themselves to the magic stored within. This was a time-consuming process even for relatively simple magic. Depending on the level and complexity of the mysteries involved, a sacrifice of their own soul and logos may be required.
In short, Marcus would have to weaken himself severely in order to create this ‘heritage tablet’ Titus wanted. On top of that, no normal material could hold the imprint of a foundational technique at the spirit manifestation rank. Marcus would have to spend time and effort hunting down suitable materials, or buying them out of his own pocket. The Great Tree Academy could never acquire these on their own.
“Why is it important that I make this now?” Marcus asked. “Most spirit-manifestation mages only make these when they start to grow old and near the end of their life, or they’re about to leave material reality and move on to the outer heavens. To be quite frank, I think you’re being a little bit premature. I’m willing to give you a recording of my foundational technique, and even some of the many spells I collected in my wandering, but I think I’m still young and growing. A decade from now, I may even advance in rank again, and then this record will be outdated. Wouldn’t this be a huge waste, then?”
“Oh? You think you have a shot at becoming sixth rank?” Titus asked, visibly surprised.
Sure, let’s go with that…
“It’s a possibility,” Marcus said. Now that he thought about it, if he did end up making a record of his foundational technique, wouldn’t his real rank become abundantly obvious to anyone who looked at it?
It would probably be a good idea to come clean to Titus and the rest of the Great Tree elders before things progress that far.
“Ah, brother Marcus…” Titus shook his head. “You’re a bit of an arrogant brat, but all six heavens have clearly smiled upon you. Still, I must insist. I know I’m asking for much, and I will understand if you refuse me, but I simply must try to convince you. You have no idea how important this is for us. You probably didn’t even notice this, being so naturally talented for all things magical, but there is something wrong with the Soul Tree Technique.”
“Wrong? In what way?” Marcus asked, unconcerned. He had studied the Soul Tree Technique in great detail over the years, and had never seen any flaws. If anything, it seemed quite genius in its design, although it was optimized for things most mages considered of lesser importance. A practitioner of the Soul Tree Technique could attune themselves to far more spells at once than any other mage, for example, and it could accommodate virtually any spell or magical ability. Alas, classical wisdom stated that a mage who truly mastered a single spell was infinitely more praiseworthy than the one who learned a hundred different ones.
Was that what Titus was referring to?
“The founder of our Academy, and the originator of the Soul Tree Academy, wasn’t a human,” Titus said.
“Ah,” Marcus said, not terribly surprised. “Was he a tree, perhaps?”
Titus seemed taken aback. “What? No, he wasn’t a tree… why would you even think that?”
“So Sacred Oak isn’t the originator of the Soul Tree Technique?” Marcus asked.
“Ahh…” Titus said, pointing a finger at him knowingly. “I see you know about the blessing. Well, everybody knows about the blessing, but most of them aren’t perceptive enough to realize it’s real.”
“I visited the tree, and the feeling it gave me…” Marcus began.
“I know what you’re going to say: the tree feels like it has practiced the Soul Tree Technique to some ungodly level of power,” Titus interrupted him. “To be honest, I don’t know why that is. No one does. However, our records about the tree are very detailed, and go back all the way to when he first encountered it… and at that time, it didn’t give off anywhere near the same feeling.”
“No?” Marcus asked, baffled.
“No,” Titus confirmed. “It was known simply as Mystery Oak back then. It was clearly a powerful spirit-level magical creature, but no more than that. It was only after several generations of interaction with our academy that the tree started to exhibit this feeling of resonance towards our foundational technique. It synchronized with us more and more, and as it did, the effects of its blessing grew ever stronger…”
Marcus didn’t know what to think about that. Did the tree… switch from whatever foundational technique it practiced to the Soul Tree Technique after coming into contact with the academy? Why would it do that? How would it do that? Marcus thought people couldn’t switch foundational techniques anymore after reaching fifth rank and above! Even magical creatures weren’t exempt from that!
Why didn’t anything about that stupid tree make sense!?
“But anyway, Sacred Oak definitely isn’t our founder. Some of the elders believe the founder was an elf, but who knows. He might have also been a member of one of the other ancient races that are gone from our planet now. There were a lot of those before the orcs came through the Lament Spire,” Titus continued. “Whatever the case, his mentality and understanding of the world was sufficiently different from the bulk of humanity that most people have issues practicing the technique to a high level. Truly talented people like you can power through it, but for the rest of us, it’s a constant headache.”
Marcus had never even suspected. He knew that the Soul Tree Technique was tricky to practice – he heard as much from plenty of other people, including Old Pliny – but he had no idea this was the reason behind it.
“Doesn’t the Sacred Oak’s blessing help?” Marcus asked curiously.
“Absolutely,” Titus said. “However, it seems to be more effective at earlier ranks and gradually loses its effectiveness as people age. Our academy has an abnormally high level of third ranks, to the point even other academies have begun to take notice, but once we try to advance into a foundation mage or higher, we hit a brick wall.”
Marcus could finally guess what Titus and his fellow elders were thinking. Since he had achieved spirit manifestation rank and was human, he could potentially serve as a source of a new Soul Tree Technique. One with which the other human members of the Great Tree Academy would have greater affinity. Even better, it should be possible for the elders themselves to also consult this version of the Soul Tree Technique and adjust their own foundations in accordance with it, allowing some of them to break through to the next rank.
Generally, magical traditions grew weaker with each new generation. It wasn’t inevitable, but most students only ever mastered a lesser version of their master’s craft. When these students passed on their already flawed technique onto students of their own, the result was usually an even more flawed understanding, and so on. Thus, academies prized older technique records far more than recent ones, as the older records tended to be more potent and comprehensive.
However, that didn’t mean that such watered-down legacies were useless. Even a lesser copy contained unique insights of the mage that made it, and they were generally extremely compatible with the source technique. It was always better for an academy to have ten different copies of a legacy than just one, no matter how great that one legacy was.
“Surely there were other members of the academy that achieved spirit manifestation,” Marcus remarked. “I know you were far more glorious in the past, and you are quite ancient. Could it be that none of them have left their own legacies to the academy over the centuries?”
Titus made a sour face at the question. “Our academy was very different in ancient times. It was less of an academy, and more of a secretive religious cult. Our ancient elders refused to write down any of their magic, preferring to pass on legacies directly from teacher to apprentice. At some point we declined and lost all of our spirit manifestation elders, forcing us to start over from scratch, guided only by the heritage tablets of the founder. Since then, some of our members have managed to achieve spirit manifestation with the technique, but like you, they left us to pursue their ambitions elsewhere. These ambitions inevitably became their doom. They all died young, leaving no legacy to learn from behind.”
“I see. You’re afraid I will also die before passing on my legacy,” Marcus said.
“Yes,” Titus confirmed. “I don’t know if it is bad luck, an ancient curse some witch placed on our school, or deliberate sabotage by someone from the shadows, but all our great talents end up dying young. I don’t want to risk it anymore. The sooner you can leave behind your legacy, the better.”
Marcus gave it some thought. He still thought this was all premature, and that Titus was just being paranoid. Still, he could understand their anxiousness about the matter.
“Will the academy provide me with the necessary materials or do I need to acquire them myself?” Marcus asked. He already knew the answer to that, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Ah, well, you see…” Titus fumbled, tugging on his long bushy beard nervously. “Great Sea just collected another round of tribute from us during the Second Academy War, funds are a little tight…”
“Say no more,” Marcus interrupted him. “In that case, it may take me some time to acquire everything. I may be a spirit manifestation mage, but I am still just one person, and I doubt I will be able to mobilize Great Sea’s resources for this. It might take me… oh, I don’t know, two years?”
He could probably get everything in about six months, but Titus didn’t need to know that.
“Two years. That’s sooner than I thought…” Titus mumbled to himself, deep in thought for a minute.
Marcus cursed himself internally. He should have thrown out a bigger number at Titus and then let the man talk him down to whatever he thought reasonable. Alas, Marcus had never been a great negotiator.
“Alright,” Titus eventually said, nodding faintly to himself. “I need to talk to some people, but it should-”
His speech was interrupted by a loud commotion from just outside the room.
“Sir!” a young voice shouted somewhere outside. “Sir! Please stop! The head elder is having a private meeting, you can’t just barge in and-”
“Out of my way, boy! Don’t you know who I am?” an older, haughty voice shouted back.
“Damn it,” Titus cursed. “Not this guy. How did he even find out you’re here so quickly?”
Before Marcus could ask what the hell was happening, a bald, mustached man dressed in extremely colorful clothes barged into the room, practically kicking the door in. A trio of guards rushed in behind him, clearly upset with his actions, yet not daring to seize the man and drag him away from the meeting.
One of the guards, a tall young man who seemed to be the leader of the three, gave Titus a terrified look. Titus looked back at him with a dark expression that communicated clearly that the man had made a big mistake.
“I-I’m sorry sir, I tried to stop him but-“ the young guard babbled frantically.
“Master Titus, you promised you would notify me the moment Elder Marcus returned from his pilgrimage,” the richly-dressed man said, uncaring of the young guard’s distress. “Why did I have to find out about his coming from third parties and then fight off your guards just to get here?”
“Master Lucius, you are surely exaggerating,” Titus said with clearly forced politeness. “After all, it doesn’t seem like the guards were doing much of the fighting to keep you away.”
The young guard visibly shrank back at the comment. Titus waved his hand at him in a silent gesture that caused all three guards to leave the room and close the door behind them.
“And good thing they didn’t, for that would be treason, wouldn’t it?” Lucius said, his arms clasped behind his back. He looked completely unconcerned at being in the room with two powerful mages, one of whom clearly didn’t like him. “Attacking a royal emissary is a crime, Master Titus. As is lying to them, and obstructing their duties.”
Ah, a royal emissary. That explained a lot.
Titus didn’t seem particularly worried at the accusation, however.
“Elder Marcus came here barely an hour ago, and I was simply taking some time to catch up with an old friend. There was no need to make a scene in this manner. As soon as I finished here, I would have sent someone to fetch you,” Titus calmly explained.
“I’m sure,” Emissary Lucius said dubiously.
“This might be hard for you to accept, but you are far from the only person seeking an audience with Elder Marcus, and definitely not the most prestigious one to do so,” Titus told him. “Aside from you, representatives from Great Sea Academy, Giant Thunder Hall, Crystal Mountain Academy, and Raven Temple have all requested to be notified the moment he returned.”
S-So many… and why was Raven Temple included in that list? Marcus was absolutely sure he had never done anything to them! What possible grievance could they have with him?
“Well, they’re not here right now, are they?” Lucius countered. “I am.”
He turned towards Marcus and gave him a deep bow. Apparently he had much more respect for Marcus than he did for Titus, a fact which caused the Great Tree high elder to frown unhappily for a moment.
Marcus responded with a bow of his own, albeit a much more casual one.
“What can I help you with, Master Lucius?” he asked politely. The royal family of Elora was not a powerful force, so offending them would probably not be a big deal… but Marcus had plenty of enemies already. There was no need to add another into the mix.
Plus, the orphanage Marcus grew up in was funded by the kingdom of Elora, hence his surname. Realistically, he owed them some level of gratitude.
“I apologize for the terrible first impression I have surely given you, but it could not be helped,” Lucius said. “I bring a message from His Royal Majesty, King of Elora. He requests your immediate presence in the capital.”
“Alright,” Marcus said. Not what he had planned to do, but in all honesty, there hadn’t been a specific plan for the near future. “Can I know what this is about?”
For the first time since he had barged into the room, the mask of confidence slipped from Lucius’s face and posture. He clearly knew what Marcus was being called for, but seemed reluctant to say anything.
“Mages need preparation to get the most out of their powers,” Marcus pointed out. “If you need my help with something, it would probably help us both immensely if I knew what I was dealing with.”
Lucius seem to think it over for a few moments before reaching a decision.
Titus leaned forward slightly, clearly interested in the answer himself. The royal emissary probably refused to say anything to him.
“A rift in reality has opened up in the royal palace,” Lucius said in a hushed tone of voice. “And there are things periodically crossing over.”
