Scourge of Chaos: Savage Healer

Sunday played with the oblong pieces of shiny platinum inlaid with gold. They felt cold in his hands and the sensation was not half bad. But there were only twenty of them. No mountains or even buckets of gold were given to him, because ‘it was too much to haul at once’.

That might’ve been true, but was it reason enough to crush a man’s dreams? He sighed and put the piece of platinum back in his pouch, which he tucked into his shirt. He had been too afraid to leave what was the equivalent of two thousand gold under his bed in the tavern. It was probably the safest place since Mera’s ability was more broken than the world itself, but still… At least I’m rich for now.

All would go toward more spells or some of those obscure arts the spell-fused woman had mentioned, of course. It would hurt, and Sunday was sure he would cry, but it’s what needed to happen.

The Arcanum remained towering over the rest of the city, arrogant and mysterious. After a short debrief with Vyn and making sure his booze business was almost ready to launch, Sunday had decided to try and make full use of the institution. He was not as desperate for help now, but the practice rooms, especially those of higher grades than the one he had used last time, were too attractive to pass up. The price was halved if he paid with contribution points for the day, however, he only had ten left which was one use.

The library was another great place that could, perhaps, be opened to him due to his newfound wealth. It seemed a bit wrong now that he had Mera, but if he could buy access to arts, it would be worth it. Creating crystalized essence or additional space for spells sounded like amazing assets even if he didn’t have the rank for it yet.

Figuring out more about the Yew Tree’s Blessing was also a priority now that he understood it a bit more. It was the key to the power he so desperately wanted and it seemed to be the reason spells were so easy to accept him – apart from the Smash Ball. It had also made his awakening a thing of wonder. Sunday wasn’t sure how many essence points he had found, but they had certainly been many times more than what was shown in Jishu’s art.

Records of past iterations of what was happening to him now were a good way to start unraveling his talents, or at the very least understanding himself better. Books such as history of past ages, and recounts of the wars against the divine were paramount to find.

However, spells were more important than anything, even if he had enough right now. He could always leave new ones with Mera to hold for him until he grew enough to do it himself.

Zihei’s door opened with a loud whoosh as Sunday waltzed through with a smile once again, ready to do business. The man was behind his desk, as usual, staring wide-eyed from behind yet another strangely colored book. Wasn’t he a mage? How had he reached Rank Two without practicing?

“I want to know what spells the mighty and generous Arcanum will offer me, in return for an awakening art meant for undead…” he paused dramatically, letting the man chew on what was happening, “that pinpoints more than one hundred essence points.”

Zihei’s eyes widened and he abruptly stood up, before gently closing the book he was holding. Sunday noted that. Maybe it’s not the simple romance novels he’s reading. Maybe it’s more?

“Yes! Great! It might take a day or so, but it’s still early. I’ll take you to the Elder in charge of the Art Repository and—”

“No. Spells first. If there’s nothing I want among what the Arcanum offers, then there’s no point in doing this trade, is there?” Sunday interrupted, putting on an annoyed expression. Zihei had controlled himself quite well the previous times, but there had been slip-ups. He had a use for someone like Sunday. Zihei had admitted to receiving a spell for signing up Sunday, and yet no one had come to show interest in Sunday himself. He was left to do as he pleased, which was precisely what he wanted, but things just seemed… off.

Was the one who had registered him supposed to act as something like a handler responsible for fleecing all the relevant information from the new and naïve mage that had knocked on the door? Why not? Sunday hadn’t committed to the institution and was technically a freelancer. He could come and go and do whatever. In return, he received access that was denied to the general public, some scraps, and nothing more.

There was another possibility too – that Zihei was simply terrible at his job.

“If no spells catch your attention, we can easily turn the trade into contribution points! There’s a lot to use them for! Practice rooms, classes for new magi, private art guidance, access to a library of arts suitable for any affinities and spells, and more! Of course, you’ll need to contribute a bit more before you’re allowed access to most of the above… Practice rooms can be used at any time, but the rest require more than points or gold.” Zihei countered, repeating his spiel from the first time in a different light.

That all sounds very useful. However, that’s not all I’m after right now... Bastards. Let’s see who will fleece who!

“I care about spells first and foremost. The rest I can buy with gold, no?”

“Yes, but it’s very expensive! Contribution points are much better!”

Sunday waved a hand and a shiny platinum piece appeared in his hand, dancing between his fingers. “Coin is no worry of mine anymore. What I lack, is a reason to do another task or try to be a good little member of this place. All those things you speak of sound useful, but I haven’t even met the upper echelons and no one has checked on me and I find that quite strange. You’re not hiding me just to profit off of my work, are you?”

Zihei’s eyes widened, “That’s… that’s… Adept Ironbond knows about you very well, since he witnessed your fight with Lady Elora, and he’s instructed you to be left alone. And it might be simply that things move a bit slower in the Arcanum for your taste, but... I’m sure after a few more tasks and some time you’ll be called into a meeting and offered to study under one of the Adepts. You’re very talented and – as you’ve proven already – resourceful. If you’re in that much hurry, we can always talk about making you part of the inner circle. The benefits eclipse anything you’ve seen so far and all you have to do is sign a simple contract.”

There it is. A contract? I’m not signing any contracts with magic involved.

Sunday smiled like a cat that’s gotten a piece of steak, rather than the cream. “Your words do wonders to alleviate my worries, as usual,” he said. Then moved fast and picked up the book Zihei had been reading from the desk. The mage reached for it, but Sunday was faster. “I won’t be joining the inner circle, however, as I don’t believe in leashes.”

He stepped away and opened it, quickly going through the pages. The latter half of the book was completely blank and the last sentence on the last half-filled page was unfinished. Sunday raised his eyebrows and looked toward Zihei, who was bright red now.

“You’re not reading them, you’re writing them… by looking at the page.”

“Look, this… this is personal, alright? I know I was supposed to be showing you around and helping you get settled, but I’ve got deadlines to meet! I’ve got fans!” Zihei almost yelled out the last part, startling Sunday. That was a show of passion that did not fit the mage’s image.

Sunday slowly set the book down and Zihei grabbed it, hugging it closely like it was going to protect him from the evil man who had found out his secret.

“So you’ve got a spell… that writes? Tell me more and I might entertain this place a while longer.” For some reason, this is more shocking than the weird stuff I’ve seen. All knowledge of spells was useful.

Zihei sighed and sat down on his chair in defeat. “I used to be a scribe. It’s an Ink spell that lets us put our thoughts directly on paper with speed that overshadows anything else. It is why the Arcanum has the most expensive library, and it is also one of the ways the lower-ranked magi can earn quite a lot. The Ink spells are numerous and quite easy to find. Their weakness and their utility have made them quite popular. Coupled with a spell that allows one to double their thought process or improve memory…”

Damn. A human printing press. Imagine having the world of magic at your fingertips, and doing this holed up in a small room… Sunday felt a pang of sympathy for the man before him, but everyone chose their path. He understood that no mage was like him. Most were compatible with only certain types of spells and generally stayed in their lane, otherwise there wouldn’t be a lack of combat magi.

“I got tired of being a scribe and found a niche as you can see. The Arcanum sells books to those who can afford them, and we even write stories according to the demands of the rich. I’m… quite good at romance.”

“So, you stare at the books and the words come out? And meanwhile, you’re sitting here acting like some sort of an administrator?”

Zihei shrugged. “It’s a cozy job and gives me a monthly salary which adds up to the profits from writing. Of course, I’m indebted to the Arcanum for giving me the spells so a large amount of the coin goes to repaying that, but it’s still a good living. Here I’m responsible for registering awakened magi that come to Blumwin and seek membership to the Arcanum. Do you know how often that happens? Not very. You’re the first in years. The first for me…”

Well, shit.

“Alright. I have all sorts of theories about you, and I can’t say reality is not stranger than what was in my mind,” Sunday said. He felt a bit silly now, but this was still a good thing for him.

“Look, I know I’ve let you down. I’ll see what I can do about allowing you to see a selection of spells first. New members, especially those who don’t want to actually work for the Arcanum, are only allowed access to the spell vault under supervision after years of having a spotless record. Trading your art is one way to circumvent that. Even if we have it, a minor difference from our copies might prove monumental in figuring out the fuller picture.”

“I can respect the quest for knowledge and improvement. But I also need to look after myself. And as I see it, you’re gaining quite a few benefits from me.” A spell that allows one to think faster? It must not be very essence intensive, since he can sit here all the time doing what he’s doing. It could also be very good in a fight, depending on how it works…

“I promise to do better. For both of our sakes. How about that?” Zihei asked. He seemed honest enough and Sunday had nothing to lose by giving him a chance.

“I’ll trust you one last time. No more talking in circles.”

******

Waiting was the name of the game, but Sunday had quite a lot more to do while Zihei finally came through.

The first thing was checking if there had been a change in the task hall since his warning. It had been a mistake to not peruse the available work closer the first time – one he was determined to rectify.

The tasks were set on different but similarly large stone boards, while the clerks accepting them and giving out the rewards for the competition were sitting behind something like a large row of desks that separated the hall in two. There were all sorts of jobs available and Sunday paid special attention to all the book requests. The nobles of Blumwin seemed to love stories, and the demand for romance or more exotic literature was astonishing.

Then there were building jobs that involved all sorts of projects. He wondered if magi were required to learn architecture or engineering to better the use of the spells they were given. It was almost as if the Arcanum was capable of creating a magical equivalent of any profession, but due to the fact that magic was expensive, the services were reserved for the rich.

There were also requests for magi capable of producing different types of quasi-spell materials, alchemy assistants with flame and water spells, painters, and all other sorts of things that didn’t seem like the job for someone wielding destruction at their fingertips. There were even requests for a beautician! Sunday shuddered to think what spells were involved in that process.

The board with combat tasks was much barer in comparison, but the number of tasks seemed to have grown. Sunday squinted his eyes as they roamed across the many jobs. Ghouls were the main theme of the day. Mostly accounts of having noticed them around manors, settlements, and villages. There were only a few that sounded like there was actual danger, but Sunday knew better than to think anything involving the little bastards was safe.

It seemed that each job suitable for him included leaving the city, which was not ideal. Testing the Vision of the Berserk Moon against something he didn’t mind killing was very important though. Perhaps he could gain access to a training room and do it there? It felt like a waste, and who knew who was watching?

A hand draped over his shoulder and Sunday turned sharply only to see the pretty and serious face of Elora.

“Where have you been?” he asked.

The girl didn’t seem to mind his sharp tone as she grabbed his arm and pulled him away under the scrutinizing gazes of the clerks and the very few magi around.

“The market got delayed because a caravan of spell-hunters was attacked by ghouls. Nonetheless, the selection this time will be quite decent from what I hear. Noting concrete,” Elora whispered. She was dressed in a simple dress today, but her boots still sported a few spikes here and there, and a dagger hung at her side.

Ah, those shitty bastards again. Why am I not surprised?

“When is it going down?” Sunday asked.

The girl spun on the heel of her boot to face him. They were alone now, having reached a small alcove.

“There is still some time. Don’t worry, we won’t miss it. But first, wanna do a quick task with me? It’ll be fast and fun!”

Sunday eyed the piece of paper she thrust in his face. Ghouls… Fucking ghouls. They would make for good testing material, at the very least.