“Wait a minute... So you guys are all, like... his wives? As in plural?”

“That is indeed how marriage works.” Tyr replied. His recovery had been quick enough to lull the cursing Micah into a false sense of security. The fighting was over, but he knew better. All of this had just been a test, an only moderately successful one. Information was shared freely regarding the calamity, with the promise that it would be followed by more.

All of them were trapped within a web of a game being played by someone or something far out of reach.

Tyr had expected Tythas, their resident member of 'the boys' most familiar with anima to answer his questions, but it was actually Astrid who knew the most. She hadn't fought, mostly making sure that people were warded in an attempt to stop more changes, or spending time healing them. But that didn't make her useless. Far from it, she'd taken the time following Sigi and the others through the streets to learn and observe.

A fair healer in her own right, capable of using pure light magic which was a fairly rare talent. No metamagic necessary. Tyr hadn't spent much time with her at the academy. While Sigi and Alex would harass him for this or that, Astrid remained quiet and well mannered. Always the kindest of the trio, and apparently the one who had improved the most. And most importantly, she never hounded him asking for more money. They all had full access to his account, leaving Tyr thinking they just wanted to remind him of this fact. Marriage was... Well...

In any event...

In her fingertips, a true to life construct of light burst into being. A hologram, so to speak, glistening white. Micah waved his hands through it a few times before remarking that he was disappointed it wasn't solid. That, he said, would be 'cool'. Naturally, he was promptly ignored.

“It's not exactly a spell. If it was, it wouldn't be so amazing. It's a... A mite, I guess? Like a tick, but it doesn't exist in our reality. A spell was responsible for creating it, but what remains was a living thing.”

“...It doesn't exist?” Tythas raised a brow in disbelief. They'd been debating back and forth over this phenomena for hours now. Too tired to join the parties hunting the creatures beyond the walls of the city. If any were left, they only lasted a few hours at best. Sometimes only minutes before they started to wither away. Now that the mages had set up proper wards, it was very rare to see.

“It's got two bodies. I don't like how else to explain it. Think of it like... The tick latches onto the skin of its victim, and instead of sucking blood – it projects an astral form of itself inside the host body – while its biological form wilts and dies. But before that can happen, it's already growing a new body inside of the host. It's not a virus, but it's not a parasite. More like a mana cancer, if I had to simplify it.” Astrid was wearing a pair of enchanted spectacles, with her hair pinned sloppily atop her head in a bun. She looked tired, but she was unable to rest with such an incredible problem that needed solving. “This is the most advanced magic I've ever seen. This is like... The power of a god.”

“Alright. Relax.” Tyr rolled his eyes. “I've... Well let's just say I doubt that there is a mage alive that can...”

Solomon existed... Another like him that could threaten a divine might rise again. Might have already. If it really is Hastur... Is he so powerful? If he is, what can he show me?

“First.” She clucked her tongue. “He's created a new life form. From scratch. It's unbelievable. Next, he programmed it to follow an instinct. As if this wasn't amazing enough, he's using it as a carrier for this disease, or whatever you'd like to call it – and it...”

Either he had these particular targets in mind, or it was an incredible coincidence. Consideration of blood purity and classism existed everywhere. There was no avoiding it. Even if science and ample examples that magic had no apparent connection to heritage said otherwise. But for all intent and purposes, Hastur seemed to be intent on 'cleansing' lesser mages.

“Beyond that, I just don't know. It only latches onto mana sensitive individuals. But... All things have mana cores. Even people well capable of magic that haven't been trained aren't consistent in their infection. Otherwise, cousin Astal would be dead.”

“I ask that you call me uncle.” Astal tutted. “I'm old enough to be your father's father, princess. Well, not your actual father's but--”

“We get it.” Tyr interrupted, allowing the others to continue.

“Alright, alright. Do you have any idea why the results were so inconsistent?” She turned to Tythas, who shook his head in resignation. To him, it was a flaw in the spell of the tiny bugs that had, according to Iscari after learning of them from Astrid, suffused the air of the city. They were everywhere. Thus, everyone should be infected. Magic wasn't exactly rare. Lots of humans could use it in its most basic forms, and yet many lesser mages remained alive despite all of that.

“Maybe it's genetic.” Tythas shrugged. He was equally astonished of Hastur's mastery of anima, this was like something out of the old legends. Beyond what any human should be capable of. “Maybe he's controlling them individually?”

“He's not.” Iscari shook his head, looking toward Tyr. Both were lounging on a sofa, playing the same game of strategy their own fathers often would. A checkered board with enchanted wooden figurines marching across it. One that Iscari was talented at, and Tyr was not, losing every time. “Nobody has that fine a control, it's literally impossible, even among the impossible – he'd be puppeteer millions of things at once. The reason why they aren't being infected...”

It was hard to know when to reveal such information. If at all, but Tyr did not have the same reservations. Rumors and myth surrounded spira, but he believed Hastur to be well aware of it. Ellemar had a cursory knowledge of it, and Solomon in particular had known more about it than any non primus Tyr was aware of. Maybe even more than them.

“Nothing I say leaves this room. Understood?” They raised their eyebrows at him near universally, even Iscari. But it wasn't his problem if Tyr did what he thought he was about to. “This is a great secret of the primus'.” Whether that was true or not, he added it for posterity. Better to make use of their reverence of his 'kind' if not their faith in him.

Naturally, they agreed.

So, he told them everything he needed to. About the contradictory energies that brought about life. Many mages assumed anima was the bridge that allowed for life, a refraction that stopped mana from endlessly destroying or changing things. Only in the pillars of existence could life and sentience be found. Spira versus mana. If anything, based on what he knew, anima was the product of their clash. Anima wasn't life, it was something akin to biological reality. Not thought, not the flesh that sat beneath the skin, nor the blood that pulsed through their veins. It was like... A spark.

Tythas called this a component 'cell theory', taking it all surprisingly in stride and suggesting that anima was the reaction that programmed the building blocks of biological life and connected it all together. Perhaps that it was even the literal embodiment of evolution itself.

Tyr was no genius, but that was his way of understanding it – and nobody argued. Whatever the case, he was no scientist and biological sciences were largely seen as a joke in the first place. He refrained from revealing the greater significance of 'nim' and their vampiric souls. There was no need for it, dumbing it down to 'strength of life force', which was not far from the truth. While his mana was within their range for infection, his spira was not. Through practice he'd learned to recognize the almost imperceptible pulling of these creatures on him, trying to gain purchase inside but his spira would tear them apart.

Bizarrely... And only to him, it was facilitating a pseudo cultivation inside of his body. Technically speaking, these things were keeping him alive in a far more efficient way than his own daily process of meditation. Sucking away at tiny bits of his mana before being destroyed, at which time it would all come back to him, but the pressure around his core was practically gone now.

One thing was less hypothesis, more fact.

Namely, it was planned, and Hastur was aware of the spira. Examples abounded. Of the adventurers, none had experienced the change above the iron ranking. Rose was competent enough of a mage in her own right to avoid it, but the others weren't. As with the warriors from Oresund and Astal himself, they had done enough killing or perhaps they were born with a spira strong enough to flay the proto souls of the creatures before they could take root.

Some could feel it, the servant staff had been taking time off, claiming headaches and exhaustion in the middle of the day. A fair few of the blackguard would get 'itchy', randomly, or anxious without reason – whereas Samson and the Oresundians of a superior spira level felt nothing of the sort.

Tyr was confident that not even Iscari knew of mans ability to grow stronger as they killed.

“Let me get this straight...” Astrid looked skeptical, but she listened. His explanation of 'world energy' left her baffled. “There is an invisible energy that pervades all things. It's not mana, but rather something else. Something opposite. How does that even make sense? If this power fills the world, how can elementals come into being? Why don't we feel it when we cast spells?”

“It took over a thousand years of human civilization to understand the concept of gravity.” Sigi's interest was piqued, just a bit, the wider phenomena was irrelevant to her though. “We are always under its pull but we'd never really notice it nor how it influences us. Born to it, it's just another part of the world. Spira just seems like another natural force to me, one is so natural to living things that we'd automatically take it for granted. Like a peasant never considering the chemical composition of air, you know?”

“That... Makes sense.”

“Maybe it doesn't need to make sense at all.” Tythas shrugged. He found the idea to be difficult to believe, but there was precedence. Some magic thesis believed in the phenomena, and it explained that which science could not. Their headmaster, Lernin himself, had risen to academic clout positing a thesis that some men were shaped by experience. Not born differently, that it came from their own struggles irrespective of any supernatural force – even the gods. Or to explain why other races were inherently stronger without significant differences in their biology. People had clapped and declared it a great contribution to the magical community – and proceeding to ignore it entirely.

Without proof, it was all theory, and few people had the means to provide any.

“Maybe there are secrets we aren't meant to learn. Hastur just did something impossible, and Tyr is a primus. Iscari is even agreeing with him, so we can assume that this information isn't publicly available for a reason. Is that right?”

Tyr nodded.

“Why?” Alex asked. “Why would they hide such a mundane thing from us? I fail to understand what's so daunting about this knowledge if we have no way to manipulate it.”

“There are reasons. All I ask is that you trust me.” Tyr replied. Inclining his head toward Iscari. “To trust us. Our fathers. Alexandros, Ragnar, Vidarr. All of the primus'. To be honest, I'm not really sure why it's such a secret – and I suppose it isn't. Right? Like, Lernin wasn't killed for guessing at it – as Tythas mentioned. No great doom befell him, and the primus' didn't act on it. It's more complex than I can say. I'm sorry, you're all well aware that I'm not very smart.”

Sigi chuckled. “I trust you. Just you, the pretty boy Varian can get bent for all I care, but it's good to know.” She winked at Iscari, leaving both princes wondering if she was being honest or trying to make a joke...

“I assume that we are not permitted to share this information with the academies or the council?” Astrid asked. “They could help us. Maybe this would solve the problem.”

“I just don't know enough about it yet. I'm aware of one human aware of this phenomena, do you want to know who else has a good understanding of it?” Tyr had concerns. Too many to share it freely with the others. His shaper magic made use of mana and spira alike. Maybe it wasn't so weak after all. Maybe it was something not worth looking into further. Something incredibly dangerous.

Hastur didn't use it, Tyr was sure of that. His artifice bore all the signs of human magic, but he was aware of the phenomena and had used it to his advantage. Tearing it out of the victim and leaving only mana behind to power what was essentially a golem cast of flesh rather than stone and steel.

In the process, they lost their free will. Either that or it was boiled down to some bestial compulsion, once the balance was gone there was nothing holding them together. Evolving, as Tythas had said, to become more efficient at this one thing. A very crude, but efficient, shaping toward singular purpose.

A near perfect weapon, but it made him wonder where he'd gotten all of the energy necessary to do such a foul thing. A spell like that couldn't have come cheap. All magic had a cost. What price had he paid?

Astrid stared at him for a moment, not understanding where he was going with it. “Who else knows about it?”

“Solomon. Ellemar. Hastur. Coincidence?”

–

Alex, as ever, remained at Tyr's side. Months passed, the second academic year began, and no more attacks had come. All of the mite-like creatures in the air had disappeared. Their lifespans were not long, and there didn't seem to be more on the way. Nothing so foul could live forever, crushed into dust by the world energy all around them.

“Did you learn these things from the black books?”

He nodded.

“Why would you read something so...”

“So, what?” Tyr no longer sighed and shrugged and snorted at every comment she made. Alex was honest and forthright with him. He'd do his best to be the same. “Forbidden? Evil? I'm not sure what kind of effect it has on regular humans, but I'm fine. So is Iscari, and he's well aware of them. Knowledge is just knowledge, and to be honest... Considering the incredible rumors about how they offer eternal life or infinite power – they weren't much different from your average grimoire. Ellemar's in particular, if you get past the rambling, was pretty dry.”

Lots of theory, a handful of spells, and a raving biography. Hastur may very well be trying to recreate Solomon's legacy, he didn't have much in common at first glance with Ellemar. Tyr had read both books, cover to cover, and had yet to understand why they were so forbidden. Surely, he wouldn't be starting a bookstore any time soon, but while controversial – nothing within them would give anyone some great weapon. The information pertaining to spira was there, but neither mage had explicitly stated how it worked. And both of them understood less about it than Tyr did, Solomon's conjecture was close to the truth, but he was still too far off the mark.

“Weren't you afraid?” Alex asked. “Considering the rumors and all?” She had wanted to know why he'd risk his soul to access forbidden knowledge. Then, she'd learned why – in a way. Because they might hold the key necessary to save his own life. Something that significant could not be ignored. Coming to understand this and other things about it, it was easier to stomach the idea. She could never like that he'd done it, though.

“That's enough of that. Are you asking because you want to read it? I still have both, but the Confessions are not in the best stat--”

“Absolute not!” She refused.

“Okay, then do you need something in particular?” He asked. She had completed her own work hours ago and had been staring at him the entire time.

“I want you to teach me how to fight.”

“Really? Why?”

“Why?” She sighed. “Because twice, first on the bridge and later against the lindwurm, you solved our problem with steel over magic. In the city you fought like a true battlemage, blending the martial with the magical. Professor Kael has said the same thing, that enchanted steel cuts quicker and oftentimes more efficiently than magic, but...”

But she was too proud to ask the professor for help. Kael rarely drew his sword, despite his great skill with it, but his match against Tyr had proven a point. That magic could not solve all problems. If she was unable to cast, she'd be defenseless. Humans were soft and easily broken compared to the more powerful races throughout the world. In the colleges, adepts would shield her and she'd always be placed in the back – and they almost always outnumbered their opponents 5 to 1.

It was a wonder that the colleges didn't hold more numerous workshops on melee combat. Only the adepts were proactively taught how to use weapons, and she was not one of their number. As a full bodied mage she was destined to serve as a ranged combatant, but this unbalanced approach was going to get her or others killed in the future. Once a line broke or their vanguard was unable to hold down a target, she'd be a liability.

“Alright.” Tyr shrugged. He felt the same way that she did even if she didn't elaborate. Mana couldn't solve all problems. A knife to the neck would kill any man, archmage or farmer, all the same. Learning to use one was a fair goal, but Tyr had never been responsible for teaching anyone before.

Maybe it would help him understand things in a greater light.