“What levels are we talking about?” Dallion found himself asking.

Even with all the resources of the Academy, he hadn’t heard of anything higher than an eight, let alone seen one. As a general rule of thumb, mages were discouraged from entering vortexes that were more than a tenth of their level. Mages that were experienced enough and had the appropriate equipment could venture up to twice that. It wasn’t by chance that Harp had been against him venturing into the level four vortex in Nerosal.

“Double digits,” Alien said. “And by that, I don’t mean a ten.”

Double digits, Dallion thought.

Any vortex over a five required a group of mages working in unison. Even Katka wouldn’t be able to handle a level seven vortex on her own. For something of a higher level, an army would be needed… and as it would happen, an army was amassing right there; two of them, in fact.

I don’t think it’s a good idea to share what you’ve learned about Adzorg, the armadil shield said.

Even if he’s the cause of all this?

Especially because of that. Think about it. When someone discovers that there’s a device to create high-level vortexes, what do you think they’ll use it for? Whichever side wins, they’ll keep on tempting fate just so that they could gain magic. Regret resonated in the guardian’s words. Trust me on this. I’ve seen it happen before.

The dryads had a similar one when they were banished? Dallion felt curious.

No, it was something completely different. The principle remains the same. When provided with the means to gain an astronomical benefit, people tend not to think anything can go wrong.

“The Azures know about it as well,” the archmage continued. “That’s one of the reasons they’re gathering in the area.”

“Just like a pit stop before moving on to the capital,” Dallion said.

“Nice comparison.” the water construct let out a laugh.

“It’s true, though. If they boost up their forces, our numbers won’t matter. That’s not the biggest issue, though.”

All eyes turned towards him. Until now, no one took him particularly seriously. That statement had attracted more than a bit of attention. Dallion didn’t know whether to be glad or concerned. Given how powerful the members of the circle were, and how long they’d been in this world, he thought they would have seen the obvious by now.

“What if the Academy’s forces reach it first?” He added after several seconds of silence.

“How’s that bad?” Katka leaned forward.

“A group of overenthusiastic egomaniacs absorbing thirty levels of magic in a day? How could that go wrong?”

The words had just the effect that could be expected. Dallion could hear concern, even outright fear, emanate from everyone present. They were right to be terrified. So far, the only thing that had kept low level mages from running amok were high-level mages—a natural pyramid of power that kept everyone in their place. Anyone who tried to rise up too fast and recklessly was given a stern reminder of who’s boss and, in the worst cases, rogued. With several high-level vortexes, that would change. All a group needed to do was absorb a level seven vortex to be able to attempt one even greater. Just like in the silly mobile games Dallion used to play way back on Earth, each success would boost their power, allowing them to grow further and further until all the towers were gone, or the mages themselves were consumed.

“Is there a way to destroy vortexes?” The water construct turned to Alien.

The archmage frowned.

“Not those that have been gleamed, but maybe there’s a way to stop the rest. For that, we must find the irritant that’s causing them. Since they’re all appearing in the same general area, it must be a localized event. Katka, you and Dal will lead a team there and start searching.”

“We’re still talking about a massive area,” the woman crossed her arms. “It’s a long shot, even with his device. We’ll need the whole legion.”

“The legion is needed in case the Azures launch an attack. Or the Alliance. Just because they’ve kept quiet so far doesn’t mean that they aren’t plotting something.”

“Sure, but you can’t expect us to—”

“What if we ask the Order for help?” Dallion suggested.

Silence filled the room, telling him he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

“We can ask the Order, right?”

“It’s complicated,” Alien muttered beneath his breath.

“As a general rule, it’s never good to ask help from the Order,” the cloud construct said. As she did, Dallion could almost swear he saw a smile morph momentarily on her face before disappearing into the cloud mass of the head. “Whatever the Order grabs hold of, it doesn’t let go. They play the long game. Always calm, neutral most of the time, they’ve been slowly expanding for centuries. If they gain a foothold in that part of the world, we might as well disband the Academy.”

“Aren’t you overreacting just a bit?” Dallion couldn’t help himself.

“You just said that we shouldn’t trust our own troops when it comes to the vortex fields, but you’re fine trusting the Order? They’ve always craved awakened with the magic trait. If it wasn’t for the first Tamin emperor they’d have had their own brand of mages long ago.”

Mentally Dallion clenched his fists. Unlike them, he had an idea what the Order’s interests on the matter were. It was so tempting to just share everything he knew and hope for an optimal solution to this problem, but if there was one thing that everything said so far had confirmed it was that there was no trusting the circle. Several of them, if not all, had been instrumental in causing Adzorg’s device to fail in the first place. There was no telling what they would do if they had unrestricted access to it.

The fun of being a mage, Dallion thought. The only state in which trust is only based on paranoia.

“I think I should go searching for Adzorg,” he said. “There are rumors that he’s not too far away from the vortex fields.”

“It isn’t time for personal vendettas.” The archmage grumbled.

“It’s no accident he’s there. What do you think will happen if he starts absorbing vortexes? I’ve no idea what restrictions were placed on him, but with magic being the trait of exceptions, how long do you think it’ll take him to remove them once he’s obtained that much power?”

You’ve become quite convincing when you want to be, the armadil shield said. And even without using music. Commendable.

“Two teams?” Alien asked, indicating he had reluctantly agreed to the idea.

“I’ll attract too much attention with a group. I’m still a hunter. I’ll be able to blend in on my own.”

“After the incident at the Academy, I doubt it.”

“So, I’ll need a few disfocus trinkets. Won’t be the first time a hunter has used those.” As you well know. “As long as I’m hunting a person, especially one considered a traitor by all, no one will think twice.”

The archmage turned to the cloud construct.

“Could work,” the woman controlling it said. “Definitely better than flying in with a squad of battle mages. We might need a distraction. Nothing grand, just a few skirmishes to divert attention for a few weeks.”

“I’ll go see the emperor.” Alien was definitely not pleased, but even he seemed aware that was their best bet. “And what about your novice?”

The sudden change of topic was typical of Alien. Dallion still didn’t know him well, but one thing he had observed was that the man needed to have the last word. Now that Dallion’s suggestion had been informally approved, he’d rather find a topic to ostracize him on rather than continue with the more important matters at hand.

“It’s someone I needed taught,” he said.

“Abusing your status as a mage for personal reasons?”

That was rich. If there was anything that Alien had done was to abuse his authority ever since Dallion had first met him. Sadly, given that he was the current archmage, that wasn’t much of an argument.

“The circle owes me one. Now I’m collecting.”

“She’s not a mage,” the cloud construct said. “Teaching her would be pointless.”

“She’s not just a standard fury, either. We’re already using the crimson ones, why not teach a blue fury as well?”

“I don’t need to be here for this,” the water construct said, then splashed to the floor as the thread maintaining it was severed.

Judging by everyone’s reaction, this had to be a common occurrence. Not batting an eye, Katka cast a spell to lift the water from the ground, then transported it out of the room through the cracks in the door, and into the nearest water dispenser.

“You can’t just declare novices,” the archmage pressed on.

“I can if you back me up. She can already use ice magic, what else is required for her to be considered a mage?

“Natural ice magic,” Alien corrected.

“Just let him have her,” the cloud construct said. “He’s gone through all the trouble to bring her here. Not to mention she’s actual royalty.”

News certainly travels fast, Dallion thought. Rather, the mysterious member of the circle had the means to collect it with scary efficiency.

“Or do you need to check with the emperor on this?”

The archmage’s face turned red. Based on the amount of anger emanating from him, Dallion would have expected to see pulsing veins all over his forehead.

“She’s your responsibility.” He glared at Dallion. “You feed her, you clean her messes. And that concludes all favors the circle owes you.”

“Sure. Anything else you need me for?” Dallion leaned back. “I want to show her the ropes before I set off.”

The silence was all that Dallion needed to hear. Given their permission, he didn’t want to remain in the meeting room any longer that he had to. After all, the major decisions had already been made. From here on it was all a matter of Alien checking with the emperor—or liaisoning as the corporates would say back on Earth—and dealing with the administrative part of the operation. It was extremely boring and Dallion didn’t have the authority to deal with it, as he was often reminded.

The office exit led to the familiar medieval corridor that composed the building. The contrast created a moment of surreal wonder, though it quickly faded away.

Dallion expected Diroh to be in his room. She wasn’t even though all his possessions were neatly piled up in one corner.

“Any of you have an idea where Di is?” He asked them.

She was on the first floor when they brought us here, his mandolin said.

“First floor…” Dallion quickly turned around. That was good. At least they hadn’t sent her to the Learning Hall. He was just about to go back to the corridor when he suddenly noticed that the doorway had vanished. In its place, there was nothing but a solid wall and without magic symbols on it.

Damn it! Dallion thought. Not again.

He knew perfectly well what would follow. Gritting his teeth, he braced for the waves of pain. Surprisingly, they never came.

“So stressed out,” a voice behind him said. Sounds of music followed.

Glancing over his shoulder, Dallion saw a dryad dressed entirely in green playing his ring chord. It wasn’t a dryad, though. His entire body was made of purple light, indicating his divine nature.

“I don’t know what’s worse. That you expect every visit to be accompanied by pain or that you’ve gotten used to it.”

“Is there getting used to a curse?” Dallion asked.

“No, but everyone believes so.”

Dallion swallowed.

“Did I do something I shouldn’t have?” he asked, trying to keep himself from trembling.

“Quite the opposite, if you’d believe it. The archbishop of the Order mentioned you in his last talk with us.”

“He talks to you on a regular basis?”

“What do you think prayers are? Didn’t you use to visit shrines and citadels to have a few words with me? Well, you were more eager to have a talk with Jiroh, but the principle holds.” The Moon played a catchy melody on the musical instrument, then put it aside. “The thing is, that he requested a reprieve until you help with his problem.”

His problem? Dallion wondered. I thought it was everyone’s—

“We can’t do that.”

There went the faint glimmer of hope Dallion had. It would have been too nice if he were to enjoy a few pain-free months.

“What we can do is grant your wish and give you a hint of what you need to do to get free of your curse.”

Dallion remained too still, fearing that if he allowed himself to believe, he’d only come crashing down worse than before.

“Adzorg isn’t the answer, but the answer lies with Adzorg.”

“That’s a bit vague.” I knew you wouldn’t give me much!

“It’s a start and enough to get you going. Who knows? If you do a good job, maybe there’ll be more hints to follow.” The dryad vanished. “Or maybe you won’t even need them.”