Liliana walked cautiously into the workshop Emyr had taken over, not entirely certain if she’d need to dodge suddenly. Emyr had a tendency to set up traps for anyone entering his workshop, and occasionally he forgot to disarm them when he invited others in.

The Enchanting Club was not a large club on its own, but as with many specialized clubs, it had a fair amount of students who joined it. As with most other specialized clubs, fourth years were given their own, small, workshops for their projects.

Liliana had her own for Alchemy Club, though she was of the opinion fourth years were given their own rooms in an attempt to cut down on potential causalities. Any student who stuck with Alchemy for four years was prone to experimentation, and those more often than not ended in explosions. Usually ones that included poisonous gas. It would surprise no one to find out there wasn’t a single fourth year in Alchemy Club who didn’t have [Poison Resistance].

“Close the door behind you,” Emyr’s voice emerged from the depths of his cluttered workshop, nothing like Liliana’s own alchemy workshop, where everything had a very specific place. Mixing up ingredients in a potion could have catastrophic consequences, and some ingredients could look similar but be very different things.

Emyr’s workshop was as far from organized as anything could be. Liliana wouldn’t even deign to call it organized chaos, it was simply chaos in its most pure form. There were bits of cloth and metal strewn on shelves and tables, pinned to the wall, hanging from the ceiling, some with runes half drawn, sewn, carved or burned into them.

She couldn’t tell if any of them were completed, and if they were what they even did. There were bits of jewelry with sparkling gemstones sitting nestled amongst plain cloth and twisted bits of iron and copper.

“Come into my parlor, the spider said to the fly.” Liliana muttered, half as a joke as she shut the door behind her. The wood of the door was coated in runes, much as the walls were, or at least the parts she could see under the shelves and projects.

Likely for protection and privacy, but she knew precious little about runes and couldn’t devise the purpose for most of them. Koth’talan, while not an enchanter he was a well versed in runes, could’ve likely devised the rune sequences. And at least let her know if one of them was going to kill her as soon as she turned her head.

“Just don’t touch anything, you should be fine,” Emyr said, offhandedly as Liliana delicately moved around projects to find Emyr, sequestered in the back, sitting before the only semi clean table in the room. He had a piece of clear glass sitting in front of him and in his other hand was a slim metal apparatus that almost resembled a wand. Its end flared with magic as he drew glowing runes onto the glass.

“You said you were stuck on something?” Lilian prompted as she sat in the only available chair next to Emyr. After inspecting it for traps, of course.

“Those illusions you showed me from your memory.” Emyr stuck his tongue out as he carefully finished another rune.

There was something else going on, other than simple rune carving. Magic and Mana were flowing around Emyr. Liliana could sense it. He was using some manipulation skill or another and pressing it into the glass, along with each rune.

Then again, Liliana had known that was part of enchanting, the infusing things with Mana. The skill and craft would not be half so useful if it was simple rune work, otherwise anyone with a Rune affinity could do it. Emyr had explained it to her before.

Enchanting was partially runes, to set the intentions or purpose of a piece, then it was a lot of Mana manipulation to fuel and empower the pieces and runes. Some enchanters didn’t even use runes at all, it just made it easier. They acted like guidelines or instructions for the Mana, but someone with sufficient experience or willpower didn’t need that. There was more, but as Liliana had little interest in enchanting herself, she hadn’t retained much of the information.

“Movies? Shows?” Liliana asked with amusement. Emyr seemed determined to refuse to use Earth terms, either to help himself make sense of such an alien world or out of pure pettiness she wasn’t sure. Probably both. Emyr liked to multi-task.

“Yes. The illusions. They can show things that already happened, and not simply from one person’s memory. Some other thing remembers instead of a human, and then it can be shown to others. With sound as well,” Emyr explained to Liliana, as if she herself had not grown up watching television shows and movies.

“I am aware of how the technology on Earth functioned, yes,” Liliana said wryly and Emyr shot her an exasperated glare.

“Lili, do you know how much money we could make off of this if we can recreate it? So far illusions only work off of someone else's memory, or a short range communication like with the coliseum and tournaments. Memory is fallible, and short range is short range. This would be different. It would be revolutionary.” Emyr was getting excited, his steel colored eyes blazing as his words gained strength. Liliana held up her hands to stave off a longer rant.

“I know. I’ve wanted to introduce more Earth technology to this world for a while. I’ve spent years thinking of how it can change everything, Emyr. So, tell me what you need.” Liliana soothed her friend as she motioned to the glass. Emyr looked back down, twirling the metal wand around as he stared at the glass thoughtfully.

“I don’t have a Light or Illusion affinity myself, which will be the most important part of this. Enchantments to replay illusions are already done, and common enough if expensive. But to record is new. I’m struggling to figure out the how,” Emyr confessed with no small amount of annoyance that he’d discovered a problem he couldn’t find an answer to.

“I don’t know a lot of the how cameras worked in my world, as with most things it was just something that worked so we accepted it,” Liliana said slowly, leaning an elbow on the table to place her chin in her hand as she thought.

“Eyes see through processing the light that hits them,” Liliana continued slowly as Emyr watched her, hungry for any bit of inspiration or small tidbit she could give him to solve this riddle.

“Cameras might have worked similarly? Taking in the light and processing it. Maybe if we tried to make something like an automaton eye, that can process and store the light, therefore the images, it sees. We can then use it to send those processed images to something else to watch?” Liliana offered, not sure if anything she’d said was right or possible.

Cameras truly had never been something she researched, and she regretted it now. Then again, when she’d lived on Earth, she’d spent most of her time trying to escape mentally from it, rather than trying to discover the secrets of technology. What she wouldn’t give for twelve hours access to the Earth Internet right now to grab all the information she could to use in this world. Even a single hour would change so much. Or just a single science textbook.

“An automaton eye? That could work,” Emyr muttered, getting up and wandering around his workshop, grabbing items as he went.

“Do you know how an eye is structured?” Emyr asked her suddenly, turning with arms full of metal, clay, glass and gemstones.

“Not exactly. Mari probably does, as a healer.” Liliana offered and Emyr nodded, dropping his acquisitions on the worktable and pulling out a notebook to start writing.

“There’s a third year in the club who has an Automaton affinity. He uses it to make enchanted automatons. I could ask him for help with this, too. There’s another fourth year who can help with the Light and Illusion part of the enchanting. I’ll have to work on the rune sequence to figure out how to tell it to process the light. I may need you for your Soul affinity to give it the very smallest amount of awareness so it can function on its own,” Emyr was muttering as he wrote his plans, switching between writing out a list and sketching out runes.

Liliana felt a small shiver at the thought of giving an enchanted automaton some rudimentary intelligence. She was fairly certain she’d seen some horror movies back on Earth about artificial intelligences rising up to destroy the world. She doubted they were close to that, but the thought of it led her to another idea.

“Low level intelligence in enchanted automaton creatures could be useful.” Liliana murmured lowly. Emyr paused, showing he was paying some attention to her even while he was in the middle of inspiration.

“They could help with dangerous crafts, like potions, or smithing, or even for manual labor,” Emyr muttered, eyes shining with an almost manic light as he flipped pages on his notebook and started writing something new.

Liliana had a feeling that if he was allowed to, one day Emyr would try to unlock every affinity. Most never noticed it, but he was frighteningly creative. Enchanting had called to him from that day they’d seen it in first year.

Many enchanters didn’t unlock a multitude of affinities, for the same reason no one did. It took too long to raise their affinity, and it was time that could’ve been spent mastering what they did have and making money. It did mean that they would always be limited in what they could create, and enchanters, as opposed to many crafts, often worked together frequently to create new enchanted items they couldn’t alone.

Emyr had never been one to enjoy working with others, and Liliana could easily see him mastering multiple affinities just so he wouldn’t have to deal with people. It would be difficult, almost unimaginably so, but if anyone had the stubbornness to do it, it was Emyr. But it would be a long time before he would be able to, before any of them would have the time for such things.

“You still can’t remember anything of the weapons from your world?” Emyr asked, so suddenly it startled Liliana and almost sent her tumbling from her seat. Only her Dexterity kept her from landing on the ground.

“No, I remember some, but I think only because there was already something similar in this world,” Liliana shook her head with an uncomfortable frown.

She hadn’t realized she had so many holes in her memories until Emyr started asking questions. He was interested in the wars that Liliana could remember reading of, unlike Polaris, who had far more interest in the entertainment from her original world.

Liliana could remember the loss of life in those wars. But try as she might, she could only remember the occasional weapons. Mustard gas, tear gas, bombs, mines. But there were other weapons, weapons she knew had existed for hundreds of years, that had evolved from rudimentary things into things that could kill so many people in seconds. But she couldn’t remember what they were. The name was on the tip of her tongue, but try as she might, all she had were black holes where the information might have been.

“Perhaps the damage from those would’ve been worse than whatever Vita sent you here to stop,” Emyr said after a moment, though he looked dissatisfied with that revelation.

In fact, he looked ready to stab the goddess for keeping information from him. It was nice, Liliana realized, to not be the only person who was disillusioned with the goddess. She didn’t hate Vita, but she certainly did not like the goddess. Could a pawn ever love the hand that pushed it across the chessboard? Ready and willing to sacrifice it at any moment if it would win the game.

“I think we can do enough damage in this world with magic. We don’t need anything else to help that,” Liliana said finally, accepting that those memories would remain gone. As far from her as Earth would always be, now.

She could do little to change either circumstance. The gods were foes she would never be foolishly deluded into believing she could fight, and they were the only ones who could unlock those lost memories or return her to her home world.

“I suppose.” Emyr seemed reluctant to admit it, but he returned to his notes, pen scratching away on parchment as silence descended.

Liliana leaned forward and summoned light between her hands. She started to form images made from light of the things she did remember from Earth. Cars, buildings, computers, smart phones. Emyr looked up occasionally and Liliana would hear him flipping pages to take notes before the images changed. She finally settled on a train, taking it apart piece by piece until she reached the engine and trying to form it from memory.

“That’s what you’re going to show the queen?” Emyr asked her as Liliana had the piece of the engine floating around her, made of light.

“Ideally, I’ll present it to her after graduation, so I have a reason to stay in the capital. Silas and Jason have been working with a guild and delving dungeons. Jason more than Silas, to build up the funds to get their own house in the capital.” Liliana explained as she turned the pieces side to side before starting to reassemble it. She had to remember it exactly, so she could show the crafters who would one day work on it. It was also a good workout for her [Light Manipulation].

“You’re preparing for if you get disowned,” Emyr said softly and Liliana nodded, not upset by this fact. If anything, she was excited.

“My father has been pushing more as our last year here gets closer to ending. He wants me to be his heir, but he knows I can abandon the name if he keeps pushing and that will look bad for him. He’ll try something right after graduation, I know it. When I decline again, to save face, he’ll likely disown me. He’ll expect me to come crawling back and accept the position of heir. It means he won’t look bad, and my own political power will take a hit, both from the disowning and having to beg for my place back.” Liliana explained with a shrug. She could easily see her father’s plan, because if she was a bit colder and in his position, she’d do the same thing.

“But if you don’t come back, if you end up working with the queen for something that changes the entire country, public opinion will turn to favor you and the nobles will shun him for letting go of such an asset,” Emyr picked up the plan Liliana had been working on for years and his smile was devious.

“And he’ll have no one to blame but himself. It’ll look much better for me, in the end, if he disowns me rather than me abandoning the name. It’ll end up looking rash and shortsighted when I don’t come back and rise instead, without him. His political power will wane,” Liliana finished putting the train back together and, with a flick of her finger, sent it to fly around the room.

Delicious anticipatory shivers ran down her back. The first steps on the path to her father’s destruction were so close at hand, she needed to only hold tight to her patience for a little longer.

“Is that why you haven’t been reaching out to network? Because you know you’ll be disowned soon and they’ll turn?” Emyr was asking, but not really asking. He was smart enough to have figured it out by now.

“Correct. Until I get settled with the queen and my project, I’ll be a social pariah. But it means when I start rising once more, they’ll come crawling back,” Liliana smirked as the train vanished, the room turning slightly darker with the loss of light.

“Are you going to kill him?” Emyr asked in the shadowed room, no judgement in his voice or eyes.

“Eventually. Once I’ve stripped him of everything he cared for,” Liliana said simply, honest in a way she could only be now around Emyr.

“He only cares for power,” Emyr pointed out, and Liliana shook her head back and forth.

“Power and legacy,” Liliana corrected.

“You can take his political power, you can become stronger than him, but how can you take his legacy? Alistair is blood adopted. He’s the heir if you’re gone.” Emyr’s eyes had gone dark, warning and protective.

His oath bound him, but Liliana knew he’d never do anything to hurt Alistair, even if she asked it of him. He’d die first. Liliana wasn’t sure if there was anything that could turn Emyr on Alistair. Perhaps only if he became a threat to her would Emyr waver.

“And he has two other children, too. But eventually, if noble opinion of him drops so low it becomes untenable, he will step down and offer Alistair the duchy. From there, Alistair can choose to rename the duchy. It’s not been done before, but it is possible. Then he’d lose his legacy, his name, his power.” Liliana pointed out, her smile nothing kind and everything cruel as she looked at her friend. Emyr blinked at her, mind working through the goals Liliana had been aiming at for years.

“And if he doesn’t abdicate?” Emyr asked, and Liliana shrugged, her smile vanishing.

“Then I’ll kill him while I tell him my plans. It’ll hurt less, but it’ll still hurt. That’s what I care about. That he dies knowing he lost his power, his legacy, everything he sacrificed my childhood to get.” Liliana spoke the words as if she didn’t much care, but there was a vicious edge to her tone.

Liliana did not forget, and she most certainly did not forgive. She’d let others, with purer hearts and simpler childhoods, have those things. It was not something she had ever been able to afford. Astrid had died when Liliana had tried to ignore wrongs done to her, and she would never make that mistake again.

“And will Alistair do it?” Emyr pressed and Liliana looked down, mind far away. Memories played in her mind of a boy, now a man, sobbing in her arms as he broke apart. Hating the mother he still loved for everything she had done to hurt the sister he had sworn to love and protect.

“I doubt I’ll even have to suggest it. Alistair hates our father as much as I do. He hates his mother even more. What he wants, more than anything, I believe, is to separate himself from them as much as he can. He doesn’t want to be their son. He wants to be himself, nothing less.” Liliana said softly, fingers tangling together as she thought of the brother she’d felt a young, hopeful affection for. Then a paranoid hatred, and now, a deep, never ending love for that nothing could sever.

A man made of steadfast loyalty for those he loved. And beneath all of that, a deep, gnawing need to prove he wasn’t like the woman who birthed him, or the man who adopted him. To show everyone he was more, he was better.

“I’m glad I’m not your enemy,” Emyr said with a sigh mixed with awe and admiration. “You’ve been planning this for years. That kind of patience and dedication is terrifying.” Emyr shook his head, a small smirk on his lips.

“I’m glad you’re not either. You’re frightening,” Liliana teased, bumping her shoulder into his.

Emyr didn’t tell her that he’d help her however she needed in her plan. That he’d do whatever she asked. It didn’t need to be said. It sat there, in their hearts, in their bond built of love and oath. The knowledge, even without the words, warmed her nonetheless.

Never alone. Never again.