Chương 6: Safety and Certainty

It wasn't as if he could go directly to practicing the Second Mind ritual again at this hour and with a good chunk of missing blood, so Nolotl instead visited Xanax's office. It wasn't far away either. The Information Tower's master resided on the top of the Information Tower, everyone knew that was the case with all the tower masters. The same held true with the headmaster having their lair on the apex of the Central Tower. Or well, as close as it could be as that spot was taken by the Observatorium.

The worst part of living in an archipelago of towers the size of a city was the stairs. There were some elevators here and there, but they worked with Space magic and Nolotl didn't trust them much. Sometimes, if he was on a real hurry, he would take them, but death was so common in the Empyrean Academy—the reminder was especially fresh now that the enchantress who brought her the book had died—and he preferred to play it safe. There was a reason he was still alive even if the world had been against him since birth.

Technically speaking, all the training and exercise that gnosiamancers—and most other mages—had was from the stairs. There were a limited number of elevators of a limited capacity after all. And even if he tried to exercise weekly, Nolotl was out of breath by the fifth flight of stairs. His actual bedchamber was close to Tower Master's office, but he had decided to study a bit on the Archives before it, which proved to be a regretful decision. Ten more floors remained. Think of something positive, Nolotl.

He told himself as his calves protested. Like the limitless knowledge of the stars or the heat death of the universe. Whilst not nihilistic, the Empyrean enjoyed the comfort of an eventual end of everything. It was more out of spite than anything else. He ended up activating some of the lower-end biomancy enchantments of his tattoos to refresh himself, but by the end of the climb, he was feeling numb. Fuck it, I'm gonna cast Slow Fall and shove myself out of the shaft for the way back.

He didn't have much confidence in his spellcasting of non-Information schools, but he was able to use the generic schools of casting like everyone else and he did learn it years back in preparation for the climb of Mount Empyrean. Perhaps Slow Fall didn't have an Information variant, but it was so basic of a spell that it had transmutation, augmentation, and abjuration variants. Personally, the augmentation one was the easiest for him.

But casting it without a supporting element like he had severely elevated its mana cost. Such issue could be solved by 'slotting' the spell with certain Boons like Grimoire, but he didn't have access to the Boon of the taximancers, but it was a simple enough spell that there shouldn't be a problem to use it. Maybe. I'll decide when I get back, Nolotl sighed and continued down the corridor to reach Xanax's office.

Not many people had the nerve to personally visit a tower master, mostly out of sheer fear, but he was met by a secretary standing out of the office, nonetheless. He didn't even need to examine the local Cognition to know that the secretary wasn't just a scribe, but a powerful mage. Officially, people like him were scribes. Unofficially though, they were bodyguards.

This wasn't the first time meeting Xanax's secretary, and whilst he had the Perfect Recollection Boon, the gnosiamancer didn't bother remembering his name as they mostly referred by a you basis.

"Oh, it's you," the secretary said once he noticed him. Nolotl didn't remember doing anything to him, he had ever treated him with such derision since the first time they met, but considering they met once in a blue moon—if that—he hadn't bothered solving the issue. The only thing he remembered about him was how he was an astromancer, that was to say, a mixture of an Information and a Light mage.

Some people liked to say that they were a subtype of mage like him because their second highest Alignment was X, but the real definition of a hybrid mage stated that only those with Boons in multiple Alignments could be considered as such. A fact that could be corroborated by the man's eyes, who boasted the usual cyan color of gnosiamancy but with the added white pupils of photomancy.

That was why Nolotl, who had Light as his second highest Alignment, couldn't be considered a real astromancer even if he performed acts similar to one because he had no Light Boons. Even his Starguided Blessing effect was wholly about Information not Light.

"Indeed, it's me," Nolotl said with the same impetus as him. That was to say: none.

"Is the Tower Master present?"

"Yes," he responded taciturnly, not even hiding his animosity.

"Could I visit him?"

"Could you?" The prince squinted at his lack of decorum. It was at times like this why he wondered why Xanax had him as a secretary. Sure, he was powerful, but also young and with a doubtful character. With young, Nolotl meant seven years older than him. So barely a postgraduate as the official academy curriculum ended around twenty-five years of age. If one didn't skip years, which was a rather common occurrence due to the fluidity of the curriculum.

"Are we going to have to do this?" The Empyrean crossed his arms, for once projecting an aura worthy of his position.

"No, we are not," the secrecy responded weakly, his visage sour after being reminded of the difference of their positions. Perhaps Nolotl was way younger, but there was only one Empyrean per tower, whilst there were many secretaries.

"What's the purpose of your visit?" But it would seem he hadn't learned enough of a lesson as such question was needless. Nolotl projected his voice out to the Physicality and the Cognition.

"The Empyrean of Information wishes to speak with Archmagi Xanax, master of the tower of Information. That is all you need to know." He hated using his authority, even the one he had gained fair and square instead of the one he had from virtue of birth, but some people were too thick-skulled to understand things otherwise. But of course, many people would like to state otherwise about the fairness to his rise of power to the position of Empyrean.

"Understood," he bowed his head down, though it wasn't beyond Nolotl's detection how he had clicked his tongue.

"The Tower Master is waiting for you." Now, the Empyrean could have been petty, very petty in fact, but being childish only made everything worse. And he was above such things. Sometimes. Without a pinch of fear, Nolotl waltzed into Xanax's office. The old archmagi wasn't working on his desk but rather resting before a fireplace. It wasn't even a magical one, which made the logistics of carrying the firewood up the tower—and the mount—quite infuriating.

Thinking that a fraction of the teleportation network's bandwidth was wasted in useless firewood caused him an ick.

"We haven't seen each other in the flesh and blood in a long time, Empyrean," Xanax announced without looking at him, his eyes locked with the fire.

"Are we going by titles now, Archmagi?" Nolotl sighed and sat down on another armchair before the fireplace.

"Considering the ruckus you have made outside, I believe it is quite justified," the old gnosiamancer caressed his beard. Of course he had known what was happening outside even if the office was supposed to be soundproof. His Cognition-sense was bound to be the greatest of the academy. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"I would say it is not my fault," the young gnosiamancer defended himself.

"Why does he treat me like that?"

"Can't say," the old man answered truthfully, or so was the impression Nolotl had.

"He only behaves like that around you. Sometimes I have things turn sour with other tower masters, yet he never spoke out of line. In any case, you are the one who should tell me what you did." Nolotl shrugged, not bothering to answer he didn't try to look for the answer.

"Anyhow," Xanax turned to face him, "what has brought you here, Nolotl?"

"This," the Empyrean took out the book detailing the Second Mind ritual out of his satchel.

"You didn't need to bring it back personally. You could have given it back to Enala."

"Your delivery girl died a few days ago."

"Huh, is that so?" Xanax groomed his long beard deep in thought but otherwise was unfazed by the news.

"What a shame, the girl had future." In the end, that was what the life of mages amounted here: survival. Magic was dangerous, some more than others, but still mortal. Some considered gnosiamancy to be the safest as it hardly had an effect on the Physicality and it was the easiest magic to learn early on, but once you started dealing with mind stuff, it became one of the most dangerous ones for the caster. It was still magnitudes safer than Chaos and Void though.

One was for braindead gamblers and the other for suicidal bastards. He was talking from his personal experience with his fellow Empyreans, but the generalization might not be entirely wrong.

"I expect you won't suffer the same future as her, considering your inclinations for safety, but beware, the total celestial alignment will change it all," the archmagi announced ominously.

"I know that the Second Mind ritual is dangerous, but first and foremost, security has been in my mind rather than success."

"That's fine and all, but you have misunderstood my words," Xanax's eyes shone with the intelligence of a gnosiamancer and the wisdom of old age.

"You are not the only one that will benefit from the total celestial alignment, but everyone. All mages on this face of the world will have access to heightened magic if just for the briefest of moments. Mark my words, Nolotl, everything that you know and take for granted will change the day after the alignment. The status quo will be thoroughly obliterated." The seriousness of the old man's eyes couldn't be ignored. He was right. Any mage would have the chance to perform magics beyond their ability.

And when you had power beyond your ability to command, most people would cause a lot of damage. Willingly or not. The ramifications of Xanax's words didn't limit to long term, but short. A lot of people would end up immolating themselves by mistake during the total celestial alignment just because they wouldn't take a fraction of his safeguards. And such immolations would harm anyone nearby.

That was without even acknowledging the multiple powerhouses that would arise the next day after the alignment, just like Xanax had said. At least one person was bound to strike gold and succeed on a ritual of untold power. Whether that person was a tower master or a newbie mage. Both gnosiamancers ended up talking for a bit, but Nolotl made himself out shortly after delivering the book as Xanax was likely pressed for time with said alignment coming up in a matter of days rather than weeks by now.

"Hmm, I would need some more glass," Nolotl rubbed his temples. He had barely woken up and he had already started practicing more for the ritual. Whether it was his intent or not, Xanax's words had infused a bit of fear in Nolotl's mind so he wished to no longer double-check his work, but nonuple-check it. As a byproduct of his endeavor, he now lacked resources.

"Ugh, they are too expensive, and everything is bound to even be more expensive with everyone buying ritual materials," he banged his head on the desk for his lack of foresight. The celestial alignment was something that had been known for years, after all. But at the same time, he had only been able to engage with such a complex ritual thanks to his position as Empyrean, and that was a recent development.

"I could destroy or pawn some more trinkets for money, but these are… rather old for my liking." The previous relics that he had ruined for the ritual had been gifts given personally to him, and whilst some were old, they weren't that old. But what remained in his reserves now were actual Nochochenca treasures. He didn't care much for the religion even if he was supposed to be its high priest, but he wasn't a monster and still a believer.

It would pain him to actually destroy artifacts of historical and anthropological value.

"I will really have to contact her…" He gave in a crestfallen manner after much internal discussion. There was only one person that could assist him financially without raising any suspicion or problems. He was supposed to be 'exiled' after all, even if it was a cover story that no one actually bought. With much dismay, Nolotl penned a letter to the High Priestess of Nochochenca. The contents of the letter were simple, just him asking for a bit of gold to the person instead of the actual temple for a ritual.

Gold wasn't that important in Tezlan—even if it had the biggest gold reserves of any country—because most biomancy rituals required of more organic metals like iron or copper, so the only real use for gold was as a trade good or a luxury one. Most countries did use gold for their coinage, but in Tezlan they preferred using crystals as coinage. There was a reason for it, more cultural than economical, but the less he thought of his homeland, the better. Technically speaking, there was no need for a letter.

Whilst he wasn't part of any coterie, he was loosely connected to all gnosiamancers of Tezlan. Part because he was the only gnosiamancer prince of the country, part because he was one of the halves of Nochochenca. It would have been possible to send a mental message to a person half a planet away from with just 'minimal' preparation. It wouldn't be as casual as communicating telepathically with Cillin, but he could prepare the necessary spellware and components in a couple of hours.

Nolotl just preferred not to do so. He was supposed to be unaffiliated to the country now, one of the reasons why he was studying in Origin, so contacting a priest or military officer would raise a lot of alarms. Mainly for the enemies of Tezlan. So a personal letter to one of his confidants should be fine, even if it was a person in a position of power. He liked to believe that.

To send the letter, he used his perks as an Empyrean and sent it through the mail service run by the academy's topomancers as he had access to unlimited free correspondence. After that, he continued to practice, attended Xanax's seminar, and ate at some point. For someone that could check the hour with just a thought, Nolotl often forgot what moment of the day it was. By the time he was back at his bedchamber, the floor keeper messaged him about a package.

Every tower had a tower master, and every floor of every tower had a 'floor master'. In most cases it was either a clerk or a professor. Technically, he was the master of this very floor, but it wasn't he could exert that control as a student. Nor was he specially willing to shoulder such a nuisance of responsibility.

The position of Empyrean had always been a weird one to him as only students could be Empyreans, even if one would think someone in possession of such title should pertain to someone wielding more power and wisdom. The floor keeper greeted him and wordlessly pointed him toward the package. He would also be this dry if his work was to watch over one of the emptier floors of the Information tower. At least he was professional, unlike a secretary he knew.

The package was heavy, impossibly so, and the remittent was none other than Chichihualxo-chitl, High Priestess of Nochochenca. He opened the package once he was inside of his room and was surprised to find a pair of gold ingots. Not bars, ingots.

"Of course it's heavy," he sighed.

"I'm kinda afraid of reading the letter now." Alongside the ingots, a letter lay in the package. His relationship with the high priestess wasn't bad, one could say the exact opposite, and that scared him. He took a deep breath and started reading the letter. Dear darling~ Nolotl gagged and almost puked upon reading the first sentence. That was the problem with Chichihualxo-chitl, her familiarity and love.

That wouldn't have been a problem if she was around his age, but much alike the high priestess' name, she was old. Chichihualxo-chitl—or Chichi as Nolotl called her, though the reason for the abbreviation wasn't as pragmatic as with Azithromycin—was a seventy-something woman by now. And she had delusions that because he was the high priest, that meant they were some sort of married couple. That wasn't the case. Nochochenca was a belief of halves. A male half, a female half. An astral half, a terrene half.

Peace and war. Birth and death. It wasn't a religion of opposites, as some might think, but of two sides of the same coin. There couldn't be a concept of peace without war, after all. Nolotl wasn't the 'high priest' but rather the Astral-Who-Knows as they said in Tezlan. For once, he preferred a word in the tongue of Origin rather than his homeland. And Chichi's title wasn't 'high priestess' but the Rooted-Who-Feels.

Nochochenca demanded him to be a reservoir of knowledge devoid of passion, whilst Chichi had to be an ignorant free soul that acted according to her whims. In a way, his current studies could be classified as pilgrimage. To comply with such demands, he was a gnosiamancer and she a biomancer. Though if they were to comply with ancient customs, he should be an astromancer and she an hemomancer, the combination of a Life and Chaos mage. Which she actually was, even if her work was mostly biomancy.

Because even the halves could be split in half. The Empyrean massaged his temples, after a respite, he continued reading. He skimmed through the dubious parts, but there were important details in what should have been a personal letter. Things are getting restless here. Your father has to seize control from what should have been close and supportive allies. We have known of the possibility of a civil war for years, but now it is a certainty. I do not expect to wait long for the winds of war to reach Ximeca.

When that happens, Tezlan's jungles will be dyed red again. Nolotl slumped on his chair. He had known about this for long. That was why he had been sent away years ago, to at least save someone of royal blood if the worst were to happen, but it was different being told so directly. Not even the absurd amount of gold before him could improve his mood. As a seeker of knowledge and a mage without offensive spells, the idea of war—civil or not—disgusted him to the core of his being.