Cira’s concerns apparently did not resonate with the surrounding arbiters. While she dwelled on Breeze haven’s comfort and her dad’s deception, one man in particular spoke with his own concerns, the one in bulbous velvet.
“She clearly doesn’t share blood with the man, and you would give her authority over us?” The corpulent one was irate, and Cira could feel her anger bubbling up.
I always knew my father didn’t give birth to me… But what does it matter to this chump? His aura is hardly any stronger than Kristof’s.
Cira put a palm on the cloud and was in the process of standing up again when a flash of light appeared before the man. Eliza was there with an open palm swirling with mana. It left an afterimage as it swung from her side and collided with the man’s face before Cira could even get a word out.
“Sorry everyone,” Eliza returned to her original seat as the round man collapsed. “I saw a bug.”
She only spared Cira a short glance, but she suddenly felt the need to hide a laugh. Just as Cira thought the meeting could start, that old lady from before stood up from her seat.
“I object!” Is she serious…? Her decrepit voice seemed to carry through the hall. Strangely enough, everyone stood quiet for her. I guess she does have enough mana. “She must be tested! I will not allow her stand beside us otherwise.”
Despite her best efforts, Cira was getting a little irritated, “Are you saying you wish to challenge me? I don’t care what tests you want me to pass, but can you shut up for ten minutes? You people are impossible.”
It may have been that she didn’t get a good night’s rest after waking up under the shattered barrier, but this lady just wouldn’t quit.
“Wh-How dare you—”
“Enough!” Fitzgeralt clapped again. “Do not make me repeat myself. My decisions are final. Gudilare, if you have issues to take up with Cira, I expect you to do it on your own time. But do not forget my words.”
Well, that seems fair. No one wants to cross this man. So long as I can at least see her bothers coming, I’d actually feel much better about it.
“In any case.” Cira thought she would diffuse the tension. “I heard there is a library…”
“There is indeed.” He nodded at Eliza, “But I have no doubt there are other things about this island you hold interest in. Better to get it out of the way first, no?”
…
This guy knows how it is. If their library is as impressive as I’ve heard, who knows how long I can spend in there.
“I will be your guide,” Eliza spoke up with a grin, “But first I ask you give the room a formal introduction. For arbiters this typically involves stating your name and your general background, then reason for joining the Order—though you may as well forgo that last part.”
Formal introduction, hm? I suppose I can do that. Despite the damage to my robes, I did just do my hair a few hours before I went to sleep. I’m pretty sure I look well put together. Alright then.
“Very well.” Cira pushed herself up so she was standing on the cloud and pinched her violet silk robes into a faint curtsy. She was not overly concerned with most of these people and found no reason to keep secrets, “I am Cirrus, but I would appreciate if you referred to me as Cira. My father told me our family name was not to be spoken frivolously, so I will not provide it to those who do not know. My background, let’s see… Before the Myriad Sage Gazen found me, I was first raised by the primordial demon of Causality who I shall one day destroy. As for reasons to seek out your order, I intend to read plenty of books until I have to move on and hopefully procure rare alchemical ingredients. That should do, yes?”
Cira glanced up at Fitzgeralt again and he nodded with another clap, silencing the crowd of arbiters, “How harrowing… I had no idea the child Gazen spoke of would bear such heavy origin…” While he was lost in thought, Cira’s own mind drifted.
That was a lot to share, but I kept all the bad parts out. I have no reason to hide my own truth. To hell with these old mages. Unfortunately, there was another commotion among the arbiters. Many called her a liar, and others looked at her like some kind of monster. There were scarce few who held pure curiosity. Eliza was among them.
“I must say, that truly was unexpected… you realize he is the one who…”
Cira picked up where she trailed off, “Indeed. I do not know if he is my birth father or if that person is dead, but I have recently learned that the demon who first raised me was indeed responsible for the primordial genocide, which is also something I learned of, well... quite recently.” I can’t exactly say I learned it the other day or they’ll scour the sky for those demons…
How curious it is that I care…
“That is likely the extents of how much I am willing to share, so don’t bother asking further.” Cira continued, looking over the shocked arbiters.
As they met Cira’s gaze, nobody seemed to want to speak up. Many of them were scared, looking at her like she would a demon. It didn’t feel great, but that was life. Just when the silence went on long enough that Cira thought the meeting would be adjourned, a trace of mana bubbled center stage, coagulating like blood.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to arrive,” Fitgeralt’s voice boomed, breaking the silence, “Count Uriel.”
Cira watched a man form from the floating pool of blood. Lofty blond hair framed a delicate face, but protruding from his forehead were two black horns. They were shorter than most, but Cira’s body initiated a fight or flight response.
“Another demon?” Her voice rumbled through the room as lightning crackled—
“Hold on,” The High Arbiter’s calm words slowed her sorcery, “Cira. I request you do not fight in this room. More importantly, Count Uriel here is no demon.”
To say that took the wind out of her sails would be an understatement. She instantly felt embarrassed again and half the arbiters looked at her like some petulant child now.
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“You stupid little girl,” The horned man spat, “How dare you compare me to a lowly demon? I am none other than the Great Count Uriel, proud black dragon lord of the Burning Skies!”
“Pray tell, Great Uriel,” Cira offered a mocking curtsy with full dramatics, “Whatever might I ask is a dragon lord supposed to be? Did you grow horns because you thought dragons looked cool?”
“Wh-what?!” As he cried, gasps and chortles alike arose from the others. “I am a dragon, you insolent cretin!”
“No way.” Cira crossed her arms, peering down at the liar, “I saw a dragon once. They don’t look like people. Not even in my father’s books.”
He exploded in rage as all the arbiters seemed to laugh at his expense. Cira couldn’t help but resist the grin that grew from their collective joy.
Uriel tried to put a damper on it, “Well your father was—”
“Ahem!” Fitzgeralt loudly cleared his throat and peered between the two, “Mature dragons are capable of changing their form to that of many creatures. As I’m sure you know, they are beings attuned to the aether, so their abilities are nigh limitless when they put their mind to it.”
Cira squinted her eyes and really inspected the guy, much to his disgust. He had a well-shaped face and was of moderate stature, but his mana seemed remarkably weak. He didn’t appear to be concealing it either. This is a dragon…? I don’t think Fitzgeralt lied to me, but… “You are extraordinarily weaker than the red dragon I met. How curious—”
“Do I need to kill you too—” Uriel was cut off as Eliza appeared in a flash of light with a finger over his lips.
“Now, now, Uriel… Don’t go getting yourself in more trouble than you can handle. You had to regenerate your blood, flesh, and aura from scratch did you not?” Her expression was one of concern, but also like she was looking at another bug. “You really shouldn’t overexert yourself after sleeping for so long.”
Interesting, but… He’s not a demon. Half-rate dragon at best. I no longer care about this person.
Before Cira could offend anybody else, Eliza appeared before her, “Why don’t we get this tour started? I’m sure meetings just bore you, don’t they?”
“I’d be lying if I said they didn’t.” The odd meeting wasn’t so bad depending on the topic, but Cira felt like she’d attended quite a few lately.
“What? You think I’m just going to let you—” Uriel barked up at Cira, but next thing she knew, he was gone. As was everybody else and the entire room.
“This islet is known as Celeste.” Eliza explained, taking a walk to the shore. The islet was alone on its own small ring high above the rest of Icarus. The air felt cool up here and it offered an incredible view of the island as a whole. All the different rings and hunks of earth whirring along their paths at a snail’s pace sat below like a diorama or a random knick-knack from her dad’s bookshelf. “The second marks and below are not permitted to set foot upon it, so we can catch our breath here for a moment.”
Eliza went on to explain that most of those who attacked her at the barrier were first mark librarians of the Order, while the mage army in the sky had not yet received a mark. Count Uriel was still a mere librarian of the second mark.
That guy didn’t strike me as a librarian of any kind, but… It seems these guys take their books seriously. I shouldn’t judge them too harshly. But do we need to avoid them? I guess I did just have a small string of confrontations… I can’t complain at a brief reprieve.
Some of those from the last chamber must have been third marks like Eliza. If they teamed up on me, I don’t particularly like my odds. Maybe this is allowing them time to cool down as well.
“These enchantments…” Cira was inspecting the geared track that trailed off beneath the islet. “They don’t look like my father’s. In fact, I haven’t seen a single glyph with a trace of his signature.”
“That’s because Gazen didn’t have a hand in crafting this masterwork. Your father renounced the Order many years ago, and it’s hardly been a century since we got our hands on this.” She chuckled watching Cira do mental calculations. “That’s also why his barrier was not protecting it.”
“Hang on, you mean you people didn’t build this place?” It is quite impressive, after all. I doubt I could build something like this.
This made Eliza laugh outright, crimson hair danced as she failed to stifle it, “Oh goodness no. The artificial Island of Icarus was the precious magnum opus to the father of all artificers—none other than Daedalus himself.”
“Whoa… seriously?” Even with Cira’s vision expanding, none of the glyphs seemed outright incomprehensible. They were very meticulously woven together however, and their density was insane. Many even overlapped or shared parts. She could cut the rings up into cubes and get pieces of different arrays in each one. Just keeping track of a small fraction of it in the forge would be madness. And just imagine the forge it took to make this thing… “Did he die or something? I can’t imagine someone letting go of a masterwork like this so easily.”
“Oh, it’s not that big of a deal. He’s lived longer than anyone I know, and anytime that batshit old codger makes something it’s his new ‘greatest work’.” Eliza laughed, “Doubt he’s dead though. After he lost the wager, he scurried off into hiding again in some distant sky. It was difficult to tell whether he was upset or not.”
Evidently Daedalus used to consult them on areas to find strange materials. One particular deposit of dragonite caught his eye, but he thought it was a shame so little of the mithril had been touched by dragon’s fire. The cranky old man didn’t like spending more time outside the forge than he had to, so he was about ready to harvest the whole island and call it a wash.
Fearless leader of the Third Order, Fitzgeralt, saw an opportunity to make a bet. They would lure a dragon around to blast the rest of the island with flame, turning nearly the whole thing into pure dragonite—a legitimately rare material in the eyes of Daedalus.
So there really are madmen out there who would do that.
A madman himself, even Daedalus thought them ambitious fools. Not just any dragons could condition mithril at hot enough temperatures. Apparently, it had to be a mature red dragon. It would be lucky to find a single specimen in any given set of skies, and sadly they were not friends with any. Suppose they did find one and managed to lure it in a rage—coaxing a crimson dragon in its prime to unleash its flames was widely regarded as the height of arrogance.
“We were in something of a rut after your father left, believe it or not. The Third Order had no roots, and Fitz was desperate to find us a home.” Fond memories seemed to flash through Eliza’s head, “And after Daedalus riled him up enough, he went ahead and wagered him an island of dragonite for Icarus here.” Laughter bubbled up, “Dear, you should have seen the look on that old bastards face! Oh, he was mad, alright, only compounded by the fact that he couldn’t complain to the man who offered him more rare metal for his next masterpiece than he could ever have hoped for. Enough dragonite to make even that deathless coot turn pale! Ahaha, haven’t seen him since.”
Eliza was acting carefree and casual, kicking her legs off the shore as they clicked around the orrery one clack at a time. Cira got a hint of this attitude the first time they met, and she did not dislike it. The subject matter was endlessly entertaining and they chatted about Icarus and its creator for another hour or so.
“You know,” Eliza stood up and dusted off her robes, “Once we get to the library, there’s entire shelves dedicated to Daedalus. You could spend years reading about his creations.”
“That is enticing… But I can’t stay here forever. I’m sure budgeting my time will be the biggest challenge during my stay.” Obviously, I could drown myself in history and ancient relics, but there’s also the matter of sorceries I’m unfamiliar with. My father’s—my libraries are quite limited. Even subjects I’m well versed in would be worth revisiting here. Oh, dammit, I need to get down there already. “Speaking of… what are these marks? I presume I have none… correct?”
“Indeed.” Eliza chuckled. “Each mark represents a trial passed. As you are a pureblood legacy, it’s not necessary to pass them.”
If one had to be as strong as Eliza to pass the third trial, that was certainly enough to spark Cira’s interest. Meanwhile, she was curious what the trial Count Uriel passed was like.
“I see no need to refrain from taking the necessary steps. Perhaps the others will be less irritating if I do so.” Cira had used a little mana, but it returned at an exceptional rate here on the Islet of Celeste. She was already full up. “Show me the first one.”
“Don’t get too cocky. This is only your first day here. Even if you’re talented, novices spend years working on the first trial.” Eliza knew roughly what Cira was capable of, and the look in her eyes betrayed the wisdom of an elder. “That just so happens to be the location of our next stop. Shall we?”
