Chương 12: Trials of Duty

As the Living Mana surged around her and the train, as the wind whipped at her cloak and tugged on her dark hair, Ophelia Brigmont focused. Her Soul Glyph of Vanguard flared with protective golden light from her sword, [Saviour's Bulwark] pumping out suppressing amber mana into her surroundings. She was the last stand here. Without her, this train wouldn't survive. If she was defeated, she wouldn't just be failing her job, she'd be costing the lives of everyone on this journey with her.

That wasn't necessarily true, not when she considered the man she had left behind in the carriage. But it was what she needed to believe to keep pushing herself forward. Ophelia closed her eyes as she concentrated. Unbidden thoughts pummelled her. That damnable list of hers, which she really needed to stop thinking about, poked and prodded her conscience. Once, it had been something like a guiding light. Now, however… She had far too many names on it. Names of those she wasn't supposed to be disappointing.

So many that even if she wished to count herself among the ones on the list, her name was far too close to the bottom to matter. This was worsened by the fact that the list just kept shifting all the time. Right now, the top of the list was dominated by Knight Commander Teder, her mother Lady Brigmont, and of course, her current client—Lord Stowen Kohn. She detested it. Ophelia didn't know all the intricacies behind noble connections, despite ostensibly being one herself.

Her mother would faint if she ever admitted out loud that she was ignorant of at least half of the underhanded dealings and whatnot that went on between all the Houses of Androvia. She'd much rather spend time focusing on her duties as a member of the Heartshield Knights. She'd much rather concentrate on the things that actually mattered to her, like honing her skills as one of the foremost Mage Knights in the kingdom and protecting those that needed her prowess.

That was what had made her go and visit that strange guest of theirs in the first-class carriage. He was someone who proclaimed to have not a drop of noble blood. Someone who seemed to be of no note, had no reputation to speak of, not from appearances and bearing at least. And yet, he was someone who possessed a sense of direction that was unmatched by anything Ophelia had seen before. And also, the legendary sword of House Faldor. She certainly couldn't forget about that.

Well, it was also Stowen Kohn's insidious orders that had made her visit him. But she was just trying to see it from a more positive perspective. She cracked one eye open, holding back the temptation to laugh. It was the laugh of one who had seen an impossibility become reality. The laugh of one whose dream had been proven real. Achievable. Because Ophelia truly believed that no one was free from the expectations that claimed a share of their life.

No one, no matter how strong or powerful, could escape the claws of society and the burdens thrust upon them. No one was free from the chains that tied them to others in civilization. No matter how heroic, how strong, how much of a champion they were. Except, apparently, for whatever kind of being the boy's companion was supposed to be. A companion she couldn't simply insult by throwing the boy back into the train and yelling at him to remain inside the fortified first-class carriage.

He'd have been safer there, undoubtedly. But something drove him, and it was a spark of something she recognized that had stopped her from simply ignoring his seemingly foolhardy actions. Responsibility. The willingness to take on a burden that should have been far, far beyond him. It was a strange contrast. He was in the company of someone who probably couldn't give a damn about what was expected of him.

And yet, here he was, wilfully embracing expectations that he should never have needed to consider, much less accept unto himself.

"Heroes aren't born in a day," Ophelia said to the boy, Viren. He had jolted at that, and she knew she had guessed true.

"Stand strong." He had believed it. Distractedly, she recalled that she still needed to contact Stackhurst Bank and verify everything Ryland had said. It was a mere formality, but at least Stowen Kohn couldn't go against word of that nature. A bank couldn't lie about something like those old, mythical immortalized accounts opening back up. None of which was supposed to be Ophelia's concern at the moment. Not with the threat of the Incursion in her face. She concentrated on not dying.

Ophelia's body shivered as power coursed through her. The Living Mana was surging, growing even more powerful. Viren was sticking even closer, clearly frightened of the horrific abominations rising from the flood of crimson energy that had somehow come alive. But as her enemy's power surged, so did hers. She was Exalted-ranked. One of the most elite battlemages in the kingdom, possessing boundless power that ran through her mana-imbued veins. And it was this power she was using to repel the rising red tide.

Her mana, flowing out in golden waves, solidified into repulsive bolts that tore through the Incursion. Ophelia needed to end this fast. Even now, the Living Mana's strength was surging. It crackled as it grew, living appendages trying to swarm over the cabooses. Even if she was keeping the first-class and the engine carriages safe, the same couldn't be said for the rest of the train. They needed to last just a bit longer. From her vantage point, she spotted Twin Craters and the bridge leading over them.

Their plan could still succeed. Even if the Living Mana continued growing till it superseded even her, so long as they reached the bridge, they'd survive. Ophelia cast another quick spell under her breath." [Unrivalled Call]." Her Soul Glyph of Vanguard flared yet again, this time spreading the power out in tiny golden stars that drew the Living Mana's attention to her. Viren tensed, but Ophelia kept herself steady, maintaining the flow of mana out of her manasoul.

And then Stowen Kohn's voice cut through the battle like a blade through skin. His order fell like a death knell. Her excuses sounded even to her like a gust of wind against a landslide. Return to the post you've been hired to protect.

The train trembled, threatening to crash. Threatening to send her careening off balance, plummeting over its side and into the clutches of the Incursion. Responsibility. Burdens. It all came down to that, didn't it? Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. There was, as always, the temptation to simply ignore what she had been told. It wasn't like Stowen Kohn possessed anywhere near enough power to physically drag her back to her "post".

But years of labouring under the ironclad rule of her House rammed into her mind. Years of being the most dutiful soldier of the Heartshield Knights, the brightest jewel in her mother's crown, all swarmed in. All reignited the brands on her soul that reminded her that she couldn't disobey. For just the briefest of moments, she believed she was free. Free to do what really mattered.

Free to unleash her power and face off against the Living Mana Incursion, drawing it to her and defeating it before it could surpass her, protecting the entire train and not just one select compartment and its selfish occupant. And now, that was not to be. You've obeyed me all your life, her mother had said on her final day at the Brigmont estate. Don't stop now that you think you're free. Remember, her leader had said on the first day in her Knightly Conclave.

A knight can be many things, but we're Heartshield, not Brainshield. There's a reason for the name. We're not heroes. We're not leaders. We're not going into the history books. We're the gears that keep the world running. And you know what a gear does? It fits where it's told. The real meaning was obvious. Whatever Ophelia did, she could not be the one to be held responsible for anything besides the strict fulfilment of her order. Viren looked devastated as she turned around. Her own words pounded in her skull.

Especially when she impressed upon him that there wasn't much they could do. Not against orders. Pull free from the fabric that defined their lives, and everything fell apart. Mere mortals such as them couldn't disobey the laws that governed their world. For Viren's sake, she didn't let any of her real feelings show. In front of an Iron-ranked academy student, an Exalted-ranked Mage Knight needed to be a bastion of indomitability. Even against self-inflicted injustice. This was just the way of the world.

One day, Viren would learn it in truth. They were only mages, after all. Mere mortal practitioners of sorcery. The train screeched out in agony. A storm of sparks emerged from either side of the locomotive up front, and their speed immediately began plummeting. Not good. And then she froze.

"What in the…" Ophelia's voice failed her when she saw the magic erupting all over the place.

"What is that?" Cracks ripped through space. Black rents in reality, edged with brilliant sunlight-gold, like lightning gouging out scars in space itself. Tears in dimensions. Her throat clogged up. What kind of magic could do something like that?

"What is happening?" Ophelia murmured. The cracks alone were terrifying enough. But from their dark depths emerged the greater horror. Rigid growths speared out of them in a steady manner, green and crystalline and metallic all at the same time. They were wholly foreign to her. Alien.

"Ryland," Viren murmured.

"That's what's happening." Ophelia forced her breathing to return to normal. The boy obviously wasn't lying because she could see the evidence of impossible power before her. All the crystalline growths were embedding themselves in the ground, somehow pulling in the Living Mana as well. It was as if there was some sort of magical suctioning effect in play, one that was dragging all the magic in the area towards that strange, alien material. The Incursion was screaming.

Its ceaseless shrieks ripped into her eardrums and clawed at her brain, and she was forced to rely on her Inscribed spell circle, [Relentless Sentinel], to not feel like she was about to pour blood out of her ears and nostrils. The sight alone of the fleshy horrors being ripped apart was bad enough as it was. Every inch of the bloody flood was torn away from the train.

As they continued their journey onwards, albeit at a far slower rate than before, Ophelia found that the crystalline growths had emerged on both sides of the train. And on both sides, they were ripping the Incursion across the ground. Claws, tendrils, and fangs all attempted to latch onto something and prevent their utter annihilation. Because that was what kept happening. As soon as the Living Mana was close enough to the enormous crystals, they started getting consumed.

Whatever this spell was supposed to be, whatever kind of alien, incomprehensible magic this was, the bottom line was that it ate mana. All apparently created by that one man. Who wasn't even present anywhere nearby. Ophelia wanted to doubt Viren. It wasn't because she was witnessing unfathomable magic she didn't have the faintest clue about. She had sensed the same sort of enigma about him, so this was more or less proof of that.

Rather, it was because Ryland was acting, was casting, was saving the whole train, without appearing to do anything at all. She stood there and watched the destruction of the Living Mana Incursion unfold before her very eyes. At Exalted, Ophelia was in the upper echelons of power on Vyrd. Even here, the Living Mana was still something she could handle on paper, given enough time and room to work. But that was the thing, wasn't it? Her power—no, her ability to achieve anything with her magic was still conditional.

Still dependent on things beyond her control, as Stowen Kohn was so aptly demonstrating. While Ryland was simply shattering everything in sight with zero effort or concern. The train was slowing down to a stop now. Whatever damage the flood of Living Mana had dealt was harsh enough for the Engineer Mages and the conductor to stop the train for repairs. But that wasn't a problem any longer. The Living Mana Incursion was done for. They were all safe.

Ophelia didn't really see much of the train as she trudged back to the first-class carriage. Her mind was still replaying the scenes outside, so what her eyes beheld didn't really register. Rents in the field. A forest of enormous crystals. Plus, the feeling of being dwarfed, reduced to near-insignificance. And she was supposed to be an Exalted-ranked Mage Knight. It wasn't just her either. Viren was unnaturally quiet as they made their way back to their compartments.

Everybody on the train was shocked at the abrupt cessation of the Living Mana Incursion, with some staring agog at the crystalline field while others whispered among themselves about what had happened.

"Thank you," Viren said quietly.

"For keeping me safe and everything, Lady Ophelia." He sounded like how she felt. Small. Like they were witnessing the vastness of the cosmos.

"It was my pleasure," Ophelia said. She hesitated, then added, "I was much like you, you know, when I was your age. Seeking to be something greater than myself." A bit of the determination and sharpness she had seen during the height of the Incursion, now returned to his eyes.

"Is that right, my lady? Were you also… orphaned?" The look in his eyes confessed that he already knew the answer to that. And yet, she answered anyway.

"In the ways that mattered," Ophelia said.

"Yes. Although, it took me a long time to realize that." Viren pursed his lips, then nodded before leaving towards his compartment. Ophelia frowned. There was another one of those rifts next to the boy, one she hadn't noticed so far. It was much smaller, but that was no excuse for an Exalted-ranked Mage Knight missing powerful magic so close to her. The strangest thing, though, was the fact the rift moved along with Viren. And it had an eye. A familiar eye.

The first-class carriage was in no different a state than the rest of the train. Something that struck Ophelia as ironic, considering the pains they took to feel separate. The nobles were astir, all of them talking and pointing and causing a small fuss. Several looked at Ophelia like they wanted to hound her and ask if what they were seeing really was the truth. No doubt, they were dying to know what had actually happened.

"Knight Brigmont," Stowen Kohn said, striding up to her with that world-belongs-to-me gait of his.

"What is the meaning of this? What just happened out there?" Was it really that hard to tell? Ophelia slowly turned to the right. Stowen frowned hard when he followed her gaze. Ryland was just… sitting in his cabin.

"I haven't seen him move even a single hairsbreadth," Stowen said disbelievingly.

"Do you have any proof of the ridiculousness you're insinuating?" Ophelia understood that proving Ryland was their saviour would be an uphill battle. But the same ingrained sense with which she had judged that it would be prudent to make his acquaintance was now telling her that shying away from the truth would be something best avoided. Stowen wasn't the only one. The other nobles were gathering, hanging on her words—on what she was about to say—since she was the only one who had faced the Living Mana in person.

"My lords and ladies," Ophelia said.

"Tell me. Did you see what exactly arose to destroy the Living Mana Incursion?" It took a second or two before the answers began arriving.

"Those crystals," Lady Arkhon said.

"Whatever they were."

"And where did they come from?" Lord Steban frowned in thought.

"I was watching proceedings carefully. Right before those… crystals appeared, there were these rents cracking open." Ophelia nodded at the way his voice got stuck on rents.

"Indeed. Now, can you find where a similar rent is here among us?" She was already looking right at it. The rest of them didn't need to search for long either. Those who weren't following her gaze already had a prime suspect in mind. Viren hesitated in front of the door to his compartment. Even now, Ryland appeared blissfully ignorant of everything going on. But the black fracture in reality populated by the lone eye was still floating along just over Viren's shoulder.

It was this rip in space that all the nobles were now focusing on. Even sceptical Stowen held his tongue, unable to deny reality when it stared him in the face in that manner. Especially when the fracture disappeared, reappearing an instant later to reinstate Ryland's eye into his orbit.