The life of an Archmage was hard. No, rephrase that.
The life of a capable Archmage was hard. When people thought you could actually do things, they asked you for favors.
‘Please create a spell for us to purify our water reservoirs!’ — Good request, sympathetic, if a bit too short-sighted, seeing magic as the easy or only solution.
‘Make some enchanted armor for me to defeat these monsters!’ — Classic warrior stuff. Self-centered, and it assumed they were worthy of it. Decent for money-making, but funnily, no one ever wanted to pay what it was worth.
‘I have this brilliant money-making idea, and if you just do all the magic, we can make a fortune! How about it, 70-30?’ — Um. No. However, it got worse—
‘Please cure my impotence. Also, I have this rash on my penis that won’t go away, and if you wanted to increase the size—’ You’d be surprised how many requests you got, often not that directly, but…
And those were the…requests. When something happened, everyone turned to the Archmage for answers. Why was the weather bad? What should be done about the King of Destruction? How fast did unladen Izrilian swallows fly? Oh, and why was there a crack in the green moon?
It wasn’t his fault, even! This time. Eldavin was almost sure it was the Halfling who’d been responsible for those beams of light hitting the High Passes; he couldn’t believe Teriarch, his former self, had gone to ground fighting it. The Halfling-ghost was a nightmare, and Eldavin’s instincts all said never to mess with it again.
But what really mystified him was how Teriarch—and it had to be him—had cracked the damn moon. Even the Brass Dragonlord didn’t have that kind of fire, if he was even inclined to waste it.
Eldavin had done some calculations with the limited memories in his head, and he’d figured it to be about 2.5 times the amount of magic Teriarch had in his hoard to even conceive of a spell that crazy. Eldavin wasn’t even sure what had hit the moon. All his vision spells…didn’t work on the moon. All he saw was a very lovely green moon with lunar craters and green soil.
No cracks.
“Which then suggests we have been staring up at an illusory green moon this entire time whenever one casts a magnify-vision spell up there. So something’s up there. Damn. Of all the times you’d want a Gnome.”
That was the kind of unguarded comment that got you weird looks from anyone who heard it, even in the Academy of Mages. However, people were used to Eldavin. He was…well, he was old magic.
Who ruled Wistram academy? At this moment, it was Eldavin, not Cognita and the Golems. No faction matched his Terras faction. In fact, the old [Mages] like the Ullsinoi Faction, some high-level [Grand Magi], and former ‘Archmages’ were flocking to Wistram because his undisputed power was forcing their emergence. That and the fact that the Earthers had made Wistram a power in this unfolding game…
Argh, Eldavin’s stomach hurt every time he thought about the moon. He was busy, he had so few capable helpers—
This is why I need Valeterisa, but she hasn’t shown up when she promised. And she’s ignoring my [Message] spells. She’s probably studying the Goblin King event, and I need information there. Agents in Liscor, though Teriarch might do something about them.
I need more voices in Terandria representing me. Viltach, maybe, if I can bring him into the faction. Jungle Tails…no, one [Mage] from Wistram to represent the academy impartially, not a biased Archmage like the Centaurs have.
All of this to make Wistram the power he knew it could be, the real power, not just ‘the most important magical academy’. He wanted Wistram to be essential in everyone’s life. Sub-academies, sending the brightest young students here, elevating nations into new magical civilizations.
That wasn’t just because he had to help the dead gods, Kasigna and Cauwine, mind you. That was just—what was good for the world. Raise the magical level and you lessened deaths by famine, poverty, disease, and so on.
“The world can be better; thus, we shall make it so. Hm. It needs work. Someone run it through our [Bards]. I think that could be a Terras slogan.”
Eldavin speculated out loud, and someone spoke.
“Absolutely, Archmage!”
Teura. She was fawning over him. The [High Mage] had thrown over her old faction and Archmage Feor for his. There was a bit of, ah, hero-worship in a lot of [Mages], and Eldavin thought it was understandable, even if he needed peers. Was he a perfect leader? No, but he understood why they thought he was the best chance they had at passing Level 50.
He, ahem, had a few relationships that weren’t strictly appropriate given his relative age to anyone or his personal power, but to be fair, ‘Eldavin’ had only been created last year, and he had no prior relationship experience to draw on.
He was hungry for life, for the pleasures of flesh, and for power. Dragon and mortal man conjoined. He could be the best of both worlds, of course.
Definitely. The Archmage waved at Teura.
“Hold my meetings on the moon issue. Just tell anyone asking that we’re looking into it. Repairs on the floors damaged?”
“Mostly complete, Archmage. Re-enchantment—”
“Hold on that. I want them to be as good as before or better, not a slapdash job. Damn anti-magic. Who’s exploring the new rooms?”
When the Halfling had broken pieces of Wistram, it had shattered a lot of enchantments which needed cleaning up and also revealed a lot of hidden rooms, which were both dangerous and intriguing.
“Ah, Magus Telim, Archmage. I informed him to wait—”
“Telim? Good! He’s an excellent mage.”
“He’s cowardly, lazy, and until joining your faction, regarded as a wastrel, Archmage!”
Teura didn’t like Telim. Eldavin smiled at her knowingly, and she blushed.
“Teura, you see a wastrel. I see a [Mage] who will retreat, take all cautions for his safety while exploring, and hasn’t fallen to ambition or greed. He is a rather capable [Mage] when he uses magic, yes?”
“Yes, but—his stunts! You know about the bag of holding thing?”
“Where he walks off with half a buffet? That’s just innovative! Let him take charge. We need people to take charge.”
“Oh, um. T-then, I’ll handle all the communications, and, uh—”
He was already striding towards several new areas in Wistram where mana was focused to allow [Mages] to work higher-tier spells.
“Reserve me the best workroom possible. I’m on spellcasting today. Someone has to.”
Her eyes lit up, and she nodded and dashed ahead as Eldavin sighed. Yes, he was endlessly busy, but there was a trick:
You had to be needed. He liked being needed. Right now, Eldavin was working on ways to make Wistram that fount of magic. First, the enchanted carriages like Magnolia Reinhart’s. Spellbooks that would allow [Mages] to cast higher-tier magic with ease…proving Wistram’s magical supremacy. But you also had to…he muttered to himself.
“Stretch. One has to stretch before this kind of thing. I’d better put that in the curriculums. Sex too.”
Everyone listening in stared at Eldavin. You stretched before great magic? The Archmage of Memory sighed as he touched his toes. His entire body…ached. Physical buff magic and potions were helping, but he didn’t have his inhuman physique anymore. Even so, maintaining a level of fitness was vital, and showing it off, essential. So, he muttered a few enchantments as he stretched. Stretching. Everyone slept on stretching.
Now, a one, a two, and—
——
He danced. The half-Elf had a sweatband on his forehead to keep his hair back, and he had changed from his formal, wizardly robes, which you could trip on, to some tighter pants sequined and glittering with gemstones.
One, two, three, four—he raised his hands up, shaking them out as magic swirled around them, then flicked them out right and left.
There was no music, and he was very flexible; there was a mixture of impressiveness at seeing someone his age dancing and the inherent pain of cringing in one combo.
Certainly, the other Archmages seemed horrified. Beatrice, Feor, Viltach—they were staring at Eldavin as if he’d lost his mind.
Dancing.
What kind of self-respecting [Mage] would…
Eldavin ignored them. He twirled around on one heel, throwing magic around him in the formation he needed. That was why they hadn’t made [Archmage].
Dancing was magic. Singing was magic. Swordplay was magic. At the heart of every discipline, you could find magic. Incantations, dance-magic, all of this was ‘old magic’ that Wistram had forgotten in favor of simple, ‘fast’ spells. There was a place for that, but nothing quite made your blood run cold like someone declaiming in old chant for five minutes exactly how much pain you were going to be in before they launched a Tier 8 spell into your face.
He was, in fact, dancing around a brazier filled with dirt, trying to feel out this spell. There were several he had already looked up, and the spellbooks around him showed him other spells he needed, but Eldavin required something…specific.
Low mana cost given the environment. Expansive; they’d need to make it a wider-ranging spell, learnable for lower-level [Mages], but also decently intensive, if that made sense. No point in letting just anyone copy this.
“Maybe a bit of chanting as well. Throw in some of the old ways to make people realize we’re back. Let me try. Er…remove sal, removere immunditiam, nova fieri et crescere!”
Yes, that was decent. Clean up the language, and—Eldavin worked his way into the best combination of his limbs to spread the magic in the pattern he needed.
Hip thrusts. He did a few left and right, like a vertical inchworm, then did a hop and clapped his hands. He knew it looked ridiculous, but he kept his face straight. Someone was dying of laughter.
Telim.
Good, you had to understand when something seemed stupid as could be. Eldavin wiped at his forehead.
“And—done!”
He tapped the soil, then scooped some out and put it in a new device he and Aaron had been working on. A magical analysis device. Not a microscope; Aaron had proposed calling it a ‘Magical Analyzer’. Like a device you used to scan things; a more expansive [Appraisal] spell. It was one of the many projects Eldavin worked on in his spare time; he liked the Earth ideas.
In this case, he’d calibrated it for one task, and Eldavin hummed to himself.
“Hm. Magus Sa’la, you’re an [Herbalist], aren’t you? Would you inspect this soil? Anyone else?”
She came over with several [Mages], including Feor, who tried to seem like he knew what was going on. Eldavin didn’t like Feor. The feeling was mutual. They were both “old” half-Elves, and both, clearly, thought they were the wiser and more magical one. Which was really hard because Feor had all of the magical power of Eldavin’s left sock.
So Eldavin held the soil sample up to Sa’la, who studied it.
“Looking good?”
“Hm. I think so…do you have the original for me? And maybe a soil sample from a third group?”
She hedged, and he provided two; they appeared largely the same, and the other [Mages] murmured.
“It seemed your magic worked fine, Archmage, as always! Though of course, I’m not into green magic.”
One of the Councilmembers of Wistram hazarded, and Eldavin gave her a cool glance. He doubted even Sa’la knew what he’d done; you could guess if you were halfway intelligent, but she was figuring it out. So, straightfaced, he took a pinch of dirt and opened his mouth.
“Mm. Decent taste. What do you think?”
Another look—the Selphid copied him and chewed on some dirt. Magus Telim refused when Eldavin turned to him, but half the other [Mages] took a bite of dirt, including Feor. Their faces were…something as they chewed.
“Hm. Rather, uh, dry…”
“Your spellcasting is rather…amusing, Archmage. Would every [Mage] need to do the same? I rather think our Mage’s Guilds will revolt.”
Feor commented, and Eldavin smirked.
“I’ll refine the magic, but it worked, or so I hope Sa’la will tell me. Your thoughts?”
“What am I tasting?”
Eldavin casually spat into a handkerchief and savored the reactions of the others.
“Oh, I have no clue. I doubt you can taste the salinity anyways.”
Feor colored as the other [Mages] spat instantly and tried to wash out their mouths. And let that be a lesson in jumping off cliffs and peer pressure. Telim laughed, and Sa’la frowned. She had no tastebuds, so the dirt and possible parasites didn’t bother the Selphid woman.
“Ah, I get it. It does look better! Not perfect—but I think I could grow something in this soil! It’s still below this other sample in quality—is this farmland soil?”
“Yes, quite. I’d wager it’s around…well, I can do 87% with this off-the-cuff stuff, but I’ll settle for even a 60% reduction, which I was told would allow Yellats to grow. Finding the mana to cast this will be another problem, but I think some Wistram-grade enchantments that can resist the mana-drain effects and some storage crystals for mana will be in hot demand. Portable mana supplies, you see? We’ll provide the magic, and the means. Hmph, we might as well make some scrolls so everyone can cast this ritual. I’ll work up the spells later today.”
Greatly pleased with himself, Eldavin smiled, and Feor, to his credit, figured it out faster than almost anyone else. His eyes narrowed with that angry expression he wore when he realized Eldavin was, once again, doing something essential that Feor couldn’t.
“The New Lands. Is this—is this a spell to desalinate the earth?”
Some of the [Mages] who had been keeping up with the New Lands affairs jumped. Eldavin’s smile was arch.
“Naturally. The moment I heard a report about it, I decided action needed to be taken.”
Many people hadn’t even reached the New Lands and encountered this issue, and he was solving it. The other [Mages] gave him that look of astonishment, and privately, Eldavin thought that this was only a stopgap.
Until we can bring magic into the New Lands, this will only allow very powerful groups to farm. However—Wistram was providing a solution for some.
“Teura, announce to our closest allies that the Terras faction has come up with a new ritual, and we will have it ready by Lundas. A fine day, Lundas. See if we can get someone rather attractive to do the ritual dance. Have Miss Drassi do the broadcast, would you? Not Sir Relz or Noass.”
He liked Drassi more, and Teura almost ran to do this as the other [Mages] tried to protest or ask to share credit on the work. Feor was left fuming, and Eldavin’s smile lasted until he realized he had to refine the spell and work on those damn mana crystals and show everyone how to create an enchantment that didn’t bleed mana…
No time to enjoy himself. No time to do everything. Busy, busy…who was he dining with tonight? Eldavin was busy, but contented in that way of someone too pressed to worry about other things.
Then maybe I should fly to these New Lands myself. Or go to Baleros? Argh, I have so little time. And he needed to fit in some moments to expand his allies across the world.
Wistram was going places. Oh, yes. Eldavin strode across Wistram, a vision in mind. A vision where he took Wistram past Zelkyr’s tests, put them back on the map—not that they’d left it. But he also wanted to, well, matter in the world itself. Allies. He did want to meet Miss Drassi in person again, not just on the scrying orb.
And others. He might be a rather old man in body, but you could always shoot your shot, and Archmage of Memories was a good look. Yes, all was well.
Though Eldavin really did resent his levels. His [Mage] class was advancing, but too slowly. He had to accept he was too powerful to level quickly.
But he really felt like [Old Horndog] was more of an attack than a viable class. He’d turned it down four times.
Author’s Note:
It’s me. I bet you didn’t expect to see me today, did you? Well, the joke’s on you—I’ve been writing these ‘mini-chapters’ BETWEEN writing the regular ones, to try and get into short-writing again.
It’s hard because I don’t have time to practice with the need to come out with a longer chapter each week. So I’ve been…stream-writing these. I have about 4 done and this short about Eldavin is a good break-filler, I hope.
Huh. I bet that’s why my right shoulder was killing me during my break. I had to rest it up…between playing video games.
Elden Ring: Nightreign — finished. Fun, but I question why it was made and I ended up beating most bosses solo because lining up two other people to play for hours is hard.
Deltarune Chapters 3 + 4, finished, including secret bosses, which were…harder than Nightreign. Seriously. I wish the last three chapters of the game were out now, but I’m impressed and I want to see if it sticks the landing for the story.
Void War — about to be sued by FTL and Warhammer 40k. Seriously.
Those are my thoughts. I’ve also been playing the hellish game of Blue Prince which is fun…and evil because it’s a puzzle game. This is my game-break update.
…Anyways, if my body permits, I’d like to do more mini-chapters. I have more I want to try, but they won’t always be the same quality I want since I won’t throw them through the same intensive editing cycles and I’ll just…go for it sometimes. If I had the energy, though, I’d write these all the time.
That’s all for now. Back to work soon, but I’m feeling a bit refreshed from my break. Certainly, I needed it for the arm thing. But I think it’s no longer twinging so that’s good.
Sword Crabs by Enuryn the [Naturalist]!
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