Leah eats a quick supper in the mess hall, where still occasionally people will stare, though fewer than before. She rushes back up to the library while there’s still light, and after the sun sets she brings out a candle to do more reading.

As part of her self-appointed research into this world, she has selected a pile of books on Cheden’s history and culture, and is looking for clues or valuable information. Considering her total lack of even a foundational knowledge, however, she has no idea where or how to start. Opening the topmost book, she finds a frontispiece map, a table of contents, and other small introductory tidbits. She decides to start with these.

Cheden’s divisions – Ben-Lia, Abv-Tel, Gor-Labv, and the capital region Cheden-Ai

The full-page map shows the borders, running along rivers and mountain peaks. Ben-Lia is the largest of the sub-regions, even larger than Cheden-Ai, though it appears to be mostly mountain and some small regions of coastal farmland.

The next page-spread has a branching list of names, and occasionally tiny line-drawing portraits.

Royal family & regional leadership

Leah studies the family tree, though it is almost twenty years out of date at this point. Jeno’s name is marked only as a newborn baby, under the Ben-Lia section, with an unclear connection six generations up to the imperial family. Neither of the other noble families are related to the imperial line, and as she reads she sees that all their ancestors were granted the titles for “services rendered.”

That seems like a lead, so she follows it up.

“The Nishev line was awarded a margrave’s coronet for the heroic actions of their progenitor, Lyi Nishev, a naval captain responsible for breaking the blockade of Welleslass during the Marble Wars, thus delivering the final blow to end the war. She was wounded in the process, losing her right arm above the elbow. The Imperial family gifted her a gold-plated prosthesis, which remains in the family as an heirloom, and which inspired the name for the nation’s highest military honour: the Golden Arm. The Nishev line has governed Abv-Tel in the name of the Imperial family since that time.”

She digs further, and find that “the Marble Wars” were a series of conflicts during the reign of Empress Aidhi, which, cross-referencing with the family tree, was very early on – at least six hundred years ago. Apparently the cause was that Welleslass was coming into its own as a nation of Bair, and much of their marble was being used locally for constructing castles and cultural institutions, limiting its availability for export. Cheden responded by usurping Welleslass’s old trade deals and exporting granite, while embargoing Bair.

Neat. What about the other duchies? She returns to that section.

“The Khoijan line was awarded a ducal coronet for the literary contributions of their progenitor, Ykr Khoijan, a poet and reciter who travelled the island and memorised every regional variation of the Adev-Chedic Mythos, assembling them into a single cohesive epic. The Khoijan line has governed Gor-Labv in the name of the Imperial family since that time. One member of every generation has, since that time, taken up the mantle of reciter, preserving the fifteen thousand lines of poetry in oral form.”

There is no indicator of date, though the family tree seems to mark the line as having begun about four hundred years ago. Curious now, Leah looks up the Auzzos.

“The Auzzo line began in the wake of Emperor Alaim’s death. Prince Harjen was too young to ascend, and the widowed Empress Jesaii ruled in his place for fifteen years – the longest Cheden has ever gone without a blood-member of the Imperial family on the throne. During her reign, she successfully negotiated a ceasefire between Cheden and Devad; eradicated the Algic pirates from the eastern sea; ordered the construction of a university for the arts in the capital city; and aided in the design and implementation of the capital’s aqueduct system. For these services, when Harjen finally ascended on his twentieth birthday, he awarded Jesaii Auzzo the right to morganatic remarriage, and to her children from the new marriage awarded a ducal coronet – which she could not claim herself, as a past Empress. The Auzzo line has governed Ben-Lia in the name of the Imperial family since that time.”

Leah takes a break to absorb that. Wow. Jeno’s great-grandmother was a badass. She goes back and counts the generations. Four-times-great-grandmother. Geez.

She reflects on this. She writes a few quick notes on paper, struggling a bit with the wood-and-metal pen.

Marble War – empire’s early-ish history, Cheden was belligerent, Cheden remembers with pride (Golden Arm)? (Before Welleslass was part of Volst)

Algic pirates, ~150 years ago??? Sick

Ceasefire between Cheden and Devad, ~6 gen ago –

She tries to find information about the ceasefire, and finds it finally in a book about Devad.

“The Smoke War:

“Members of the chemical experimentation committee perfected the balance of the Great Three, allowing the creation of powerful explosive grains. These were packed in metal cases, and tested both on land and at sea to determine their most effective employment in a battle scenario. Their final iteration came about when a ship’s cook had the idea to load them with quicklime – used on board ships to heat meals without open flame – which would then be carried on the smoke of the explosion to create a miasma of burning dust. This idea was tested against a Cheden spy-ship, and proved to be highly effective; the basic explosives did only minor damage to the ship, but a single irritant-filled explosive was enough to choke the entire crew of the ten-metre long vessel.

“Cheden, examining the remains of the bombs to determine their components, began withholding tin from Devad, who increased their trade with Algi for iron, and then copper, to find a suitable alternative. Cheden then began intercepting all ships bound west from Algi, and all metal trade was halted to Devad.”

Leah muses that the idea of a Cheden-Volst embargo ship-wall is not so farfetched.

“Devad responded by withholding their timber and shipwright trade from Cheden, and tripling the price of silver. Using almost one third of the nation’s stores of silver, they made a new set of irritant explosives with silver casings, and sent them by ship to Cheden. Before they could be used on the port city, three ships met them by the Burning Bluffs, carrying the queen’s envoys and a variety of magical potions of war. The secrets of making these were offered in exchange for the secret of making the irritant bombs, and a deal was struck. The magic enhancements remain a closely guarded secret of the chemical experimentation committee, and no war since then has seen their use, nor the use of the explosives.”

Leah puts the book down. Ummmm holy shit. She writes again:

Ceasefire between Cheden and Devad, ~6 gen ago – actually a trading of military secrets to purchase safety? Devad has magic war potion recipes, Cheden presumably has recipe for chemical bombs?

Also, Auzzo family organised this trade, possibly has the bomb recipe?

She reads further.

“The Crown’s position on this war has always been that it never happened; the conflict was never officially declared a war, and the label “war” is a widely used misnomer chosen for poetic purposes. No request for atonement price was made as no lives were lost, and the only victims were the twelve crew of the original spy ship, three of whom were blinded by the incident and the rest of whom suffered lifelong respiratory issues.”

She sets the book aside and thinks. It is now very late into the moonless night, and she feels quite tired. She writes one last note:

Great Three – ingredients for explosive. What goes into making gunpowder again?

She packs up her writing gear and the books and returns to sleep in her room, exhausted, passing out almost instantly.

*

Wake-up time is painfully early; the sun slanting in through the window, the sound of animals being tended to in the distance, and footfalls rushing in the hall outside.

She sits up suddenly, reaching for a dagger she still hasn’t been given back. The footfalls pass her door, and others continually pass along the hall, or echo through the ceiling above. Reassured that the Hold – and more importantly, she – is apparently not under attack, Leah gets dressed quickly and wonders who she can ask to find out what the fuss is about. She reaches for the door, only to have someone knock on it before her fingers can touch the latch.

John is there, looking breathless, but not afraid. He explains in quick, broken Volsti that the final invader has been found, dead. He gestures for her to follow, and says something about a meeting.

Eager to hear the details and yet nervous what they might reveal, Leah rushes alongside him towards Seffon’s tower, the jog helping her shake off the last of her sleepiness. Rather than going to the tower, however, he makes a turn and goes to the left instead, to a windowed hallway overlooking the stables and the south-west forest. Passing through a heavy wooden door, they enter a large room, carpeted and with a variety of artworks on the walls, and a long table at hip height. At it sit a handful of people, some known, some new – Seffon, Sewheil, lieutenant Adan, and two rugged-looking types that Leah has not seen before.

Seffon motions for her to join them, but John stops at the doorway and is not summoned. Leah turns back to him, and realises that he’s probably too low-ranking to be part of the discussion.

“Could I ask that he be included?” she asks Seffon softly, gesturing back at John. “As a translator. I don’t want to always be nagging you for explanations.”

Seffon accepts this, and motions him in. John looks giddy to be allowed into whatever meeting is about to happen, and takes a seat beside Leah at the table.

An older servant serves a light breakfast to those assembled – most of whom look freshly awoken, though likely not as tired as Leah, who is regretting her late-night research. She nibbles on the fried flatbread with some sort of egg spread and spicy red powder on top, listening to John’s quick whispered translations as the debriefing begins.

Seffon lets the two new faces do most of the explaining; Leah sizes them up as ranger-types, trackers and fighters and survivalists, not the kind one would expect from a magic school and yet somehow exactly the type she would expect Seffon to teach. The senior of the two, apparently in charge, explains.

The final invader was caught turning north to head to the sea. She had magical aid in her travel, and had apparently not slept since the initial foray four days ago. The final confrontation occurred with her in the middle of the night. She was wearing an iron circlet, bracelets, and anklets, which everyone at the table seems to understand as being related to some spell or other; Seffon confirms this by speculating that that was why a precise scry was so difficult.

She fought viciously at the end, always with an eye to fleeing; she gained the upper hand in combat twice, only to keep running each time, ignoring her wounds. The third time they dealt enough damage to cripple her, but before they could bind her to bring her back she threw herself into a pond and sank to the bottom. They fished her out, but she was already cold and dead.

The junior member of the pair hands over the iron rings, which Seffon looks over. Adan takes over questioning.

The two explain that their third party member was killed in the final fight – apparently a person of some renown, as all present, even John, seem shocked at the news.

The belongings of the woman were salvaged as well from the pond, but only certain items could be found, and they couldn’t be sure whether they’d missed anything. The junior member remembers seeing a metal tube on the woman’s belt, possibly a scroll case but not of familiar design.

Leah leans forward at this and pays extra attention. Seffon notices but says nothing.

Mimicking Leah’s interested lean, Adan asks him to describe the case; size, decoration, type of metal. The ranger describes it as one hand-span long and a fifth that wide, made of tin or iron and very plain. It was not recovered from the lakebed. Adan muses that whatever paper might have been in it would have been ruined anyway, though it’s an unfortunate loose end.

Leah settles back, unwilling to interject with only speculation, but remembering to ask Seffon later. How would one pronounce ‘fuse’ in Olues? Fuz? What about ‘combustion?’ ‘Explosion?’

The two rangers show everything else recovered from the lakebed. Some of it is still a little damp and muddy; clearly it was pulled from the pond quite recently, and Leah wonders how they could have returned from so far afield so quickly. The contents of the invader’s pack include: one empty glass bottle; two heavy daggers, like the ones the assassin had used; a leather hip-bag with numerous pockets, equipped with lock-picks, a flint, and tallow candles; a vial of poison distilled from a toxic river fish from Devad; a vial of poison distilled from a root vegetable grown in Devad; a vial of poison distilled from the skin of a dart frog found in Devad and the Enterlan; a vial of neurotoxin distilled from snake venom (or so she extrapolates, from John’s blotchy translation), from a species from the Shining Island; a vial of acid; a vial of a different type of acid; and four empty vials of the same size.

Everyone looks at the impressive display of death-dealing on the table. Seffon assigns Sewheil the task of identifying the previous contents of the empty bottles, and instructs Adan to start training any willing minds in the brewing of anti-toxins – luckily, with a sample of most they will soon face, that task is easier than it might have been. He dismisses the two trackers and tells them to go rest, and they do so, gratefully.

When it’s only him and Leah left at the table, Leah clues in and thanks John for his help, dismissing him. John accepts this, obviously mulling over what he’s overheard.

“That boy is going to be very popular for the next few days,” Seffon muses with a smirk, once the door has closed and they are alone. “I was glad enough of an excuse to have a militiaman present, to help spread the news from ear to ear – feels less like an official announcement of doom that way.”

“Is it an announcement of doom? Sounded normal to me. Though that missing cylinder…”

Seffon catches her eye. “You seemed very interested in it. Because of the missive it might contain?”

“Actually, because of something I read last night.” Leah describes from memory her research, upset that she did not have time to collect her notes. She finishes with an open question about “the Great Three.”

Seffon nods along at that part. “Devad has a great understanding of chemicals. They can achieve many magical effects through mundane means. The Great Three are mentioned, but never named; a closely guarded secret of the government.”

“Well, apparently Cheden knows that secret too.” She then goes on to explain about the ‘ceasefire’ and the resultant deal that the Empress Jesaii Auzzo struck.

Seffon seems alarmed at first, then dismisses it as rumour or exaggeration. Leah admits that she is doubtful too. “I mean, that would mean that for at least a hundred and fifty years both Cheden and Devad have had gunpowder and yet neither one has used it.”

“Gunpowder?”

“It’s what we call it where I’m from.”

Taking a moment to process her words, Seffon then turns to her, looking floored. “You know the ingredients of the Great Three?”

“No, sadly. I know there’s sulphur, and something with a really weird colloquial name…and then something carbon? Anyway, three chemicals that when mixed form a powder that burns quickly and with a loud bang and lots of smoke, when even a single spark touches it.”

Seffon seems interested but doubtful. “But can you be certain that it’s the same thing in your world as in our world?”

“Well, I’ve been assuming so far that atoms work the same in this world as in my world – I see no reason why they shouldn’t – so yes, I can be fairly certain that a pre-industrial society talking about exploding things is probably using gunpowder.”

Seffon gestures for Leah to lead the way, and they go to the library where she was reading the night before, detouring to her room to pick up her notes.

Going over everything in the privacy of the library, Seffon explains that Cheden is actually one of the youngest nations of the region, though one of the earliest to urbanise, second only to the Nations of Bair in terms of the scale of its infrastructure and government. He recounts how, when the other nations were first changing from agrarian societies to semi-urban ones, the change was seen as threatening Cheden’s power to extort.

“That was the real story behind the Marble Wars, not just pride and the ability to build. Cheden was able to subdue any potential threat by being bigger and more beautiful, and any neighbouring society beginning to self-organise and create hierarchies was a future threat. Of course they grew out of that phase once they realised that advanced neighbours meant advanced trading goods and more money to spend on buying what Cheden was making.”

Leah nods along, listening carefully. Once again, I can’t quite figure out the international relationships here. Is it coloniser/colony? Or is it a more neo-colonialist situation? Am I being very narrow-minded by assuming there must be colonies involved somehow? What else could it be called?

Seffon, meanwhile, has dug up a book on chemistry in magic.

“Do those two often go together? Science and magic?” Leah asks, reading over his shoulder.

“Quite seldom; mostly because they accomplish the same ends using entirely different philosophies, so not many places waste the time and energy studying both.”

“Shucks, so no alchemy here?” Leah jokes. Seffon ignores her.

They go over the book, trying to figure out if the ingredients are in it or not. Seffon points out that if the Great Three are secret they may have been omitted to keep the secret, but Leah wants to look. They flip page after page, reading on different materials, their means of extraction, and their uses. Leah recognises some names, vaguely: soda-ash, potash, slaked lime, quicklime, calcite. Nothing jumps out at her as being distinctly gunpowder-ish.

Seffon switches to a more productive task, of looking up how the iron hoops may have worked. Leah remains with the book, turning page after page. Finally she comes across a mention of something familiar.

“Charcoal.”

Seffon looks up.

Leah points to the entry on the page. “This book mentions activated charcoal – add acid, heat it up, it changes the charcoal somehow, makes it good at removing toxins.”

“We sometimes use the process as a general anti-toxin, yes. Probably we will be making some in the forges quite soon, if we are to expect further invasion forces carrying enough poison to kill a person fifty times over.” Seffon looks doubtful. “Is that the missing ingredient from your ‘gunpowder?’”

“No, I think it’s just normal charcoal that’s needed – and the fact that this book has activated charcoal but not normal charcoal seems to back that up. It also doesn’t have sulphur, and that seems like an important oversight. I know it exists in this world; the baths in Valerin were fed by a sulphur hot spring.”

“Then the third ingredient?”

Leah hisses out a breath. “I sincerely can’t remember. There was that one episode of Star Trek…nope, too long ago, can’t remember.”

Seffon seems disappointed. “It might have been useful, to steal the secret from under Devad’s nose using knowledge gained from a different world.” He says it almost wistfully.

Humming apologetically, Leah settles back in to her book. Eventually, Seffon begins muttering in Olues and tracing words on the page, and excuses himself to go test something on the iron rings. Leah keeps reading, feeling buried in ideas that never quite reach their end-point.

*

She continues to read in the mess hall as she eats lunch – broth with root vegetables and a small flatbread on the side. She notices that the general masses only seldom get meat, unlike what she ate while isolated. It makes her feel sort of special, like she was a respected prisoner.

The teen from the day before comes by as Leah finishes her meal, and drops a bag on the table beside her. Leah looks over.

“Your chocolate.”

Leah had forgotten entirely, with everything else that had happened. She opens the bag to find a palm-sized round disc, about finger thickness, of very dark chocolate. Tasting it, she finds it is in fact sweetened, just with very little milk.

The student looks at her oddly. “Deu you not drink e, where you’re from?”

Ah, I see. The milk comes later. “We do, I just wanted to try it to see the quality.”

She nods knowingly. “Ah, of course. You wouldn’t ge th good stuff, ou in the norlans.”

“Yep, out in the boonies, that’s me.” Leah smirks at her expression. “Never mind, I’m just teasing. ‘Norlans?’”

“You’re from Algi?”

“Oh, I see, north lands. Yes.”

“Norhd lants.”

Leah grins at the girl’s attempted pronunciation. She asks the girl’s name – Teo – and asks her about the bet. “What made you so sure I was sincere?”

Teo shrugs with a cheeky grin. “I am from closer to Devad than mos studens here. I hadnau heard many stories about th five, and what stories I had heard abou Volst were more political gripes than magical ones. I knew they wẽ anti-magic, but I hadnau realised just how much when I made the bet.” She drops down next to Leah. “Honesly, I was jus thinking about th money.”

“I’m glad I could help you make a profit,” Leah says with a wry smile.

Teo chuckles, but her grin drops fairly quickly. “People here are so stuffy about magic. They want e to be free, an treated as normal, an apolitical. They ignore tha the momen you learn how teu start a fire with a word, or heal a fatal wound with a potion, or change yõ face, you have become a political entity. You cannau pick up a sword without having to sweã your allegiance teu someone, or else yõ sword gets taken away; you cannau practice magic withou doing th same – except they cannau take e away from you if you refuse teu bow teu them.”

Leah listens intently. “Why are you at this school, then, if you feel that way?”

The girl shrugs. “I consider e my duty teu learn, since I have th gift.”

“You’re born-magic?”

“No, I’m jus really good at e.”

Leah snickers, re-wrapping the disk of chocolate. “So what’s this word, then? The one that can start fires?”

“Ah, excellen choice; it’s an Algic verse.”

“Verse?”

“Of course; Algic magic is almos always in th words, in th metre, in th rhyme.” Teo sits up straight and picks up a crust of flatbread from Leah’s plate, looking at it intently. “Do hai iebar, Do aieha, lo maitassi, lotai eha.”

The bread chars, and a flame appears at the top for a second. Teo seems underwhelmed by her result.

“Hmph. Works better wi something tha actually burns.”

Leah pulls out her note-paper and a graphite stick wrapped in wood and string, and asks Teo to repeat it. Teo does, correcting the spelling and adding inflection notes.

“How do you aim it?” Leah asks.

“With intent,” Teo says, examining the charred end of the crust. “Though pointing or looking at yõ targe helps.”

“Do you have to be holding the ‘target?’”

Teo gestures with the crust, smiling. “Try an see.”

Leah recites the words, eyes focused on the crust, and gets a tiny fizzle. She beams, and Teo gives her a supportive pat on the back.

“Try e on wood, but bes have someone with you when you deu; firs tries can sometimes be…teu strong.” Teo winks.

“Hm. You wouldn’t happen to have a candle on you?”

Teo gives her a sharp look that Leah can’t quite understand. “No, I donnau.”

“Doesn’t matter. Thanks for the chocolate, and the crash course in magic,” Leah says with a smile.

“My pleasure. I have teu go teu class, soon; tae care.”

Leah waves goodbye and eats the un-charred remainder of the bread crust. She carries her dishes to the washing crew and returns to the library, all the while holding on to the bag of chocolate like a bag of treasure.