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Book 3, Chapter 16: A Ritual Understood

  Days vanished as I dove into the notes Flynn had given me, trying to understand as much as possible about the ritual. They were...strange. Remarkably dense and revolutionary in some spots, yet sparing with details in others.

  The Radiant had created the broad concept, and her theories on mana, the body, and their interactions served as the basis for the ritual. I could tell based solely on the notes and designs attributed to her that she had been brilliant, understanding the relationship between intent and magic on a level that would've put her head and shoulders above most modern mages.

  Yet many of her ideas had been, for lack of a better term, simplistic. She had no sophisticated understanding of the human body. Her grasp on mana vessels and how to improve them was lacking, bordering on non-existent.

  As near as I could tell, she had employed healing in a wasteful, haphazard manner befitting this shallow understanding of the field. A skilled healer nowadays would direct mana with precision, targeting particular maladies or injuries to limit waste and maximize recovery. The Radiant had simply flooded a patient's body with her power, relying on will, focus, and the unique properties of her magic to bridge the gap.

  Thanks to this, it had fallen to later generations to build upon her work and refine it into something usable.

  I had read through pages upon pages of notes from long-dead Sion ancestors. Dead ends and experiments filled their notebooks, showing the gradual march of time as magic grew refined and Ferren understanding of spellcraft crystallized into something formal and structured. Within two centuries of the Radiant's passing, the first iterations of their array took form.

  But even those designs took many generations to polish into something workable.

  Their final result wasn't as close to my own body strengthening array as I had initially believed. Mine was personalized, designed to improve upon every part of my physical form equally. It drew upon the Ocean density mana within my core for power and worked by magnifying my natural healing to repair and improve upon what already existed.

  In short, it was a generalized, but overall simplistic, process that didn't turn me into something inhuman so much as make me a very healthy, but still ordinary, person.

  The Sion's ritual was another beast entirely. Its focus was entirely on the mana of the participants, improving not only the mana vessels but shifting the very energy within them with the intent of changing both in drastic ways. The process was itself a multi-stage ordeal, but a part of it involved literally breaking down and rebuilding our bodies into something entirely new.

  Even the Sions didn't fully understand exactly what we might look like afterwards. They theorized there would be little change in our physical strength, speed, or resilience, but felt this was an acceptable trade-off for the sheer improvements to overall magical talent.

  Personally, I disagreed, but just the possibilities that I could see were staggering. If it worked even half as well as I suspected, surpassing my original future might be setting my sights low.

  Still, the number of complications and pitfalls was just as obvious.

  The ritual might rebuild the mana vessels better than ever, but there came a point when their destruction made maintaining control of the process next to impossible. Worse, because it drew upon the strength of the individual mage, the difficulty would only increase the more powerful one became. This didn't even consider the Founder's mana, which would only compound that challenge.

  Not only that, but to make the ritual function, we had to maximize our vulnerability to external mana. The ritual detailed specialized elixirs designed to enhance mana sensitivity. We'd have to take potions to purge toxins and impurities, and once that was done, use meditative exercises to lower our natural defenses against magic.

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  Only a handful of spellcasters could manage such a feat in ideal conditions, but we wouldn't be in ideal conditions. Instead, we'd be in indescribable pain beyond anything any mage could train to withstand.

  I couldn't help but reach the same conclusion, no matter what training I considered or tricks I discarded. There was just no way two mages alone, regardless of their talent or experiences or grit and gumption, could control a ritual designed for seven. Honestly, I wasn't convinced the Founders could've managed it. It seemed to require focus and mental fortitude that no mortal being could muster.

  But despite all of this, I couldn't help but wonder what might happen if we managed it. Would performing a ritual designed for seven be more potent with only two? Or would the results be unchanged?

  I turned over the problem in my head for nearly two weeks. Was there an easy solution? Was there any? It was a question seemingly without an answer, which was both enthralling and infuriating.

  Finally, one evening, I stood and left my quarters to track down Flynn. Our training had continued, but we tended to spend more time alone as we chased down ideas and possibilities.

  I found him within the family records, a pile of books beside him as he searched for an answer. Ever since he'd entrusted me with the family legacy, Flynn had dove into his research with inordinate focus, as though the reality of it all had finally hit him. Maybe it had. Six months was the blink of an eye, after all.

  "Good evening," I said, clearing my throat as I walked up to his desk.

  Flynn's bloodshot eyes flicked up to me, and he smiled. "Evening, Vayne. How goes the research?"

  "Fascinating," I replied honestly. "But also alarming. You can guess why, I'm sure."

  "You think the ritual is impossible, and we'll die trying it," Flynn said. I nodded, and he chuckled before continuing, "Assumed as much. I don't blame you for worrying, of course."

  I pulled a chair over and sat down across from Flynn. "A few questions occur to me, if you'd humor my curiosity."

  Flynn waved a hand, and I said, "For starters, why is your father allowing this? I understand the possibilities, but frankly, this seems the type of gamble most wouldn't risk, particularly for their heir apparent."

  "Heirs," Flynn corrected with a chuckle. "And a few reasons. For starters, this is what our family has built towards for a thousand years. We also value magical talent above personal safety. Shouldn't be an unfamiliar concept for you."

  "I can grasp those, but why not wait? If we could have a few more years to prepare, then maybe—"

  "This ritual relies upon external factors, remember? The natural ebb and flow of mana within the valley? Based on historical records, these don't come around often. If we miss this window, it could be decades before another opportunity comes around. And assuming your vision is true, we might both be dead with swords through our hearts by then."

  Flynn's face turned serious, and he folded his arms across his chest. "Our family produces the greatest mages in the kingdom. We aren't going to allow a chance to push for greater heights than ever in history to slip through our fingers. Father understands that better than anyone."

  "I see. In that case, why not demand we perform this ritual with a full group of seven? Wouldn't that all but ensure success?"

  "We have a...deal, let's say," Flyn responded, his smile returning but looking notably more restrained. "Father has allowed me to make up a plan to perform this ritual with fewer than the full seven. If he feels it won't work, he plans to fill our ranks with hand-picked mages. I'm not sure who, and I can only guess what'll happen to them afterwards. Still, I'd prefer to avoid that if possible."

  As would I. Still...

  "Could we split the difference? Add one or two more to ease the burden while still keeping it restricted?" I asked. "I know you'd rather not hand a weapon to possible enemies, but surely we can find someone."

  "Maybe. Do you have someone in mind?" Flynn asked.

  Amelia's face popped into my mind again, despite myself. Flynn had already claimed it was impossible, and nothing I had read so far indicated otherwise. She might survive, as her ice mana was reasonably close to water, but at best, she would end up with permanent, unstable, and unpredictable changes to her magic.

  Sophia's lightning mana made her even more unsuited, but both Leon and Simon might be possible. Then again, I hadn't spoken to either of them since leaving the Academy and, truth be told, wasn't sure I could trust them.

  Simon was a kind, friendly man, and loyal on top of that, but his loyalty went doubly so for his family. I'd invited him to join me on my travels, but he'd refused because he felt it would betray his obligations. Though I didn't begrudge that decision, it made him a less-than-ideal choice.

  And Leon, if anything, was even worse. I knew him well enough to know he'd never let such an advantage pass. He'd tell his father the instant he learned of it. Besides, among my former friends, he was the one who seemed most hurt by my decision.

  I sifted through several other possibilities, mages I had met in the Academy or trained with over the years. One by one, I eliminated possibilities, knowing either their magic or their personalities made them untrustworthy or unsuited in some way.

  As I was about to give my answer, a final face appeared in my mind. It was one I didn't trust, didn't even know that well, really. We had known one another for only a few months, and I hadn't spoken to her in far longer.

  But she had never struck me as a cruel or power-hungry person. She had sought knowledge and understanding for compassionate reasons, treated me fairly if a bit distantly, and had never succumbed to the arrogance inherent in most mages. And worst of all, she had likely earned a particularly raw deal for that good nature.

  I also couldn't help but consider her element. We did need darkness mana, after all.

  "I...might actually," I replied, drumming my fingers on my bicep before uncrossing my arms. "But I'll need some help in finding her, assuming she's still alive."

  Flynn's gaze rose from the book, and he closed it before leaning across the desk towards me. "Now color me intrigued. Please, elaborate."

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