Black Magus

Ed.

***

'Oh, dear.'

'Oh, dear. Oh my. Gods.' I heard His Grace had arrived, but... never in my life would I have thought he’d spontaneously appear right in front of me. 'Me!? Why me? Where even did he come from?’ I found myself wondering as I stared at his flaccid gaze through the shine in my shoes. ‘What even is he like? I know he’s powerful, but-’

“Relax.” I heard a whisper.

Upon looking up to see His Grace holding up his palm in a calming gesture, I took a moment; perhaps several more than I should have, but slowly stood, took a deep breath, and looked His Grace in the eyes. Yet, after all that, my heart still beat a thousand paces a minute.

He was… shorter than I imagined. Nearly a full head under me, despite being around my age. A boy with dark brown skin and locks that hung past his shoulders like a snow lion's mane. He had a bulbous nose like that of His Imperial Highness', with a pointed chin that cradled a thick pair of lips and lightless, piercing eyes that held no hint or trace of emotion or compassion. In fact, if it weren’t for his dress, the ears pointing through his hair, and the striking resemblance to the Necro King, I’d have assumed His Grace was just another edgy student of Corvus Academy.

‘Ah, shit!’ I suddenly; and quite madly, spasmed into a sudden panic. “Where are my manners? I am Edward, Your Grace.” I feverishly bowed. “Edward Pascal.”

If there was any emotion behind a raised brow, he showed it. To me, it was nothing of the sort. Thus I remained silent and uncertain as he nodded subtly to my words and took on a distant gaze; silent and thoughtful, before turning back to me with a newfound interest. “Okay, Edward.” He whispered again. “What do you do?”

“Uh.” I stuttered. Struggled to keep pace with my racing mind. ‘How can I answer that?’ I pleaded to the sole voice echoing in my head that demanded a solution. We all ‘did things’ at Corvus Tower. Mundane things. Things that could have been considered hobbies or even professions. Many were focused on some type of might. Others around some type of magic. More were scholars. I was neither good nor bad at any particular thing. I learned, but not enough to call myself a scholar. I fought, but only enough to defend myself. I made things, but only as a means to make things easier. And not nearly at a level high enough to boast or brag about in a situation such as this.

I knew that I was none of those things. I just… was. But still… His Grace expected an answer, so I respectfully bowed again after my mental debacle. “I am a jack of all trades, Your Grace.”

“In that case, tell me what you can about Epethia.” He demanded with no delay or acknowledgment of my answer. “How do they see us? How do we see them?”

“Uh.” I stammered again as my mind began panicking. Searching again for a suitable answer to give His Grace within a reasonable time frame. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be the one to know that, Your Grace?’ I pleaded to him- or rather my mental self. ‘I’ve spent my life in the tower and I’m barely older than you! I’ve never even seen the southern coast. Let alone an Epethian. But…’ I stammered again. “Uh… I only know what my family has said in passing, Your Grace.”

His only response was a drawn-out blink that said all that needed saying in place of words. Thus I quickly found my mouth continuing to stammer on and make a fool of myself. “T- That they resent us for our fertile lands and prosperous life, Your Grace,” I said with a heavy breath. “And that such resentments should instead be placed on Epethia’s Emperess. Since she hoards all their wealth for herself.”

He stayed silent for a few moments before nodding vacantly to himself. Squinting at veritably nothing with what I thought was a humorous smirk in the corner of his mouth until whatever he was pondering had been settled, wherein he turned his cold, analytical eyes back to me. Steeling my spine in an instant. “I see.” His Grace nodded again, his lips wrapped upwards into a warm smile. “Thank you for your time, Edward.” With that, The Grand Duke of Odissi turned away, waving over his shoulder before he began perusing the aisles. Plucking books from the shelves by the handful to be swallowed whole by the amorphous pool of darkness surrounding his feet.

He turned to me once half the aisle had been looted and seemed to be surprised that I was still standing, staring. Evidently lost or confused as to what to do next. “Don’t let me disturb you.” He chuckled lightly through his nose before backing into a shadow hugging the corner. Leaving with my lonesome once again.

***

Amun.

***

‘Jeez. He’s still here?’ I chuckled to myself, seeing the ghostly visage of Edward still staring blankly at the bookshelf I’d been perusing before the library disappeared behind the walls. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the library held a wider selection of literature to choose from in comparison to my home. Though, in hindsight, I should have expected as much. The estate was a political house, after all. Thus the library was focused on the local regions and their histories. Here, on the other hand, the library contained all the obligatory texts about academics and magic, as well as a wealth of information about Maru as a whole.

Out of all the books I gathered, I placed the highest priority on two books. The first was titled, Those Called Magus, and started by defining a Magus, in the context of this book, as the highest rank in the Guild Association. In turn, it gave in-depth explanations of the ranking system used by the Association, guilds, and militaries throughout both Maru and Nonus.

As I learned before, the rankings began whenever an individual gained an affinity core. Yet, there was an unrecognized rank made to distinguish those who have been assessed versus those who have not. Post-assessment, the former Uninitiated mystic would then be granted the status, rights, and privileges, of a knight; regardless of prior class or status. Consequently, an Initiate would be promoted to a Page upon their entry to a guild, military, or magic academy; lasting until they graduate, wherein they'd become a Novice of their respective class.

Being the equivalent of a Baron, a Novice had the right to travel across the Mortal Plane and join parties, guilds, or militaries as independent contractors if they didn't outright join an organization. A titular Sorcerer or Witch or Wizard or whatever class a mystic had, on the other hand, was gained upon the reception of one's tower and was made able to form a legitimate party of up to five independent mystics. Similarly, the rank of Master was the minimum required to become a Guild Master, yet being the equivalent of a Viscount came with many prerequisites that made little sense to me. Rocks that were somehow wise and rooted, something about annexes and trees. Regardless, a Grandmaster Mystic followed upon reaching a combined level of ten and forming a subguild. With two subguilds and a combined level of twenty, one became an Arcane Mystic who equaled the likeness of an Earl.

Such were the common ranks. Referred to as such by both their number and the requirement to ease into the next rank. Only the guild masters who've uplifted and 'evolved' a struggling civilization within the explored realms were granted the title of Magi, those considered to be sovereign guilds, nations, and militaries concentrated into a single being. It was where one started to be seen as their guild, rather than the Guildmaster. A place where one would be seen as a special forces operator standing before soldiers. A guided missile before a box of pistol rounds. A Duke with the power to crumble nations and the rights to solo contracts or 'requests' from the Guild Association.

To become a Ranked Mage, one had to first be proficient in both might and magic, then venture beyond the explored realms and return with documented proof of their exploits. To return from such a voyage was said to be the end goal for most mystics, for the rank was a ranking system itself. They were compared against each other in terms of the assessment scale, their duties, and the deeds done beyond them. Grand Dukes who saw themselves as celebrities, I imagined. Beyond them, however, were the ones who kept venturing into that vast unknown. Master Mages were those who uplifted and evolved those distant societies. Grandmaster Mages- kings who formed subguilds in those vast lands. Arcane Mages, those who maxed every level; smitten and uplifted entire continents- done everything except change the course of history; either for better or for worse.

The Magus, or Mage King, was a mage with enough power to rival or even surpass the military might of an empire. Thus they were recognized to be a walking sovereign nation. Such history-changing efforts were indeed the final straw to become one. But others were said to have existed over time. A couple of surviving requirements were to be known across the realms and to have permanently changed a continent-sized region on the Mortal Plane. Regardless of what or when, however, hundreds had risen to such a rank and passed throughout the 1500 years or so of recorded history. Many of whom had multiple affinity cores or otherworldly magical abilities. Light; blades; barriers, even silver. And of course, death. Today, however, there were only five to hold the title of Magus: Everandus Cole, Jamettus Deapou, Zorrenor Knagh, Eligius Silva, and Marcus Morningstar.

In a way, that coincided with the second book: The Three Monarchs of Peace. It detailed a history between Deapou, Odissi, and Epethia that ran much deeper than I initially thought. According to it, Grandpa Lich and Emperor Deapou met as children in the uncivilized reaches of Phaegrath. Like many others during that time, they were born into a life of perpetual conflict. It was within the throes of war, that they met James Epeth, a skilled mage with a strange affinity for barrier magic. The current Empress's ancestor. They fought in both Phaegrath and Ulai, those three until an arcane signature appeared on the other side of Maru in the early1200s. Grandpa Lich and Emperor Deapou went to investigate while Epeth remained. In turn, Grandpa Lich and Emperor Deapou received a seemingly infinite mountain of knowledge after finding the elves. And after the elves found Epeth, he received a boost in power. With their help, those three were able to rise to new heights and helped ebb the thousand-year tide of war and suffering that had been plaguing Maru since the gates first opened. Epeth, with the help of the elves, used his barrier magic to seal off the entirety of Ulai from the rest of the world. Trapping all but the weakest monsters on the continent while Jamettus Deapou and Everandus Cole respectively cleansed and plagued the current lands of Phaegrath and Epethia. The effect of the former's campaign was an exotic badland of volcanic rock that quickly gave birth to a Jurassic jungle. The effect of the latter's campaign, however, rendered half of the largest Marulean continent into a featureless wasteland.

After the war, the Necro King and the Iron Magus returned to the cold lands in which they met the elves. The latter used his lava magic to breathe heat into the continent, both warming its interior and caking it in a field of lava, giving rise to the fertile lands of boreal forests existing today. With Grandpa Lich's army of undead, towns were erected in hours; cities were constructed in days; the empire itself was built in a week and subsequently powered by the marvel of enchantments, gifted to us by the elves. Naturally, Epethia, all of Maru, and the explored realms of Nonus received the elven boons as well. Yet, James Epeth felt left out all the same. He pleaded with the Iron Magus to smother his lands in magma as he did in Deapou. And though he tried, such methods failed due to the tropical climate of Epethia. Far more harm was done than good. In the end, only a comparatively small region that stood east of the Epethian range was salvaged from the ravages of death magic. Yet even that was eventually consumed by the savannas and deserts that formed over the last few centuries.

‘If he had to start over, don’t see why he didn’t move to Phaegrath.’ I snorted to myself, closing the book. ‘It’s a tropical paradise for crying out loud. And with barrier magic, it’d be the safest place in the world.’ Rolling my eyes against the emperor’s evident stupidity, I turn my eyes to the pile of other books I pulled from the shelves. Particularly one that appeared to be the second edition of the book on mana wells Grandpa Lich gave me. It detailed the mana wells of otherworldly creatures and gave a somewhat vague detailing of their abilities. It started with things I already knew: the abilities of the other creatures. Orcs and goblins could manipulate flora and bone respectively. Vampires could manipulate blood and demons could feed off emotional energy to empower themselves. However, so too did it mention mana wells materializing after some of these creatures were slain; and even implied them being used by wizards as external mana wells to temporarily increase their magical output. Though it said nothing more than that, however, except the interest wizards, nobles, and royals often had in them.

‘So, I was right.’ I closed the book with a satisfied smirk. ‘Mana Wells can be expanded. Though, according to Grandpa Lich's words, it sounds like a risky endeavor.’ Remembering my father's words shortly after my birth, I knew expanding my well was most likely a lost cause. It was a size twelve at a diamond density. As large and dense as they came. For humans, at least. My vassals had far smaller and less dense wells. And thus I was sure this… 'forced expansion,' would work for them.

I just had to learn how it worked. And, of course, where to buy one. The cost wasn't exactly an issue. Not with such an exuberant allowance of 390 thousand gold yearly. And that came after whatever my father saved before my fifth and possibly during my gestation. With an allowance of a thousand gold coins a week that’d been in place since I was five, I wasn’t pressed for money in the slightest. After paying my vassals their salaries for the last five or so years, I still had around 1.8 million gold left. Thus finding a black market was the only issue. The most likely place would have been in the Twin Capitals, I assumed. It seemed the obvious choice, being the trade capital of the Empire, though my skepticism made me ponder if it was instead hidden in some remote area of the countryside instead. Perhaps even on Deap Ridge, hidden in plain sight.

A sudden knock came from the door, forcing me to throw my thoughts on the back burner and scry through the shadows to see Jaimess standing by my door.

“The Necro King requests your audience, Your Grace.” He bowed once I opened the door.

"Ugh. Very well.” I sighed heavily. “Let’s go.”