The next morning found Yuriko back in the college. According to the agreement forged, she, Gwendith, and Sheamus, as well as some of the marines, would take turns teaching promising apprentices to create an Animus core. As the apprentices were already awakened, in a sense, all that was needed was allowing them to create an internal storage. There were many methods and disciplines, and Sheamus know the majority of them well.

As an adventurer from the Coalition of Independent Planes, he was somewhat privy to a hodgepodge of techniques. More importantly, he’d tried several variations of Spirit Binding and had the breadth of knowledge and experience needed to actually make this work.

For Yuriko, she was more intent on learning and expanding the Karcellian technique of igniting ores, reactive malachite in this case, and using it to boost ambient Chaos levels around them. If she had enough of the material to produce a substantial amount of ambient Chaos, then perhaps she could Free Shape, or use her Radiant Lance.

The library occupied half of the entire second story, and was located in the north wing. As soon as she entered, the sight of all the books in the corridors of shelves made the bottoms of her feet sweat. How long would it take her to read all of this? Or even a suitable fraction? For a long moment, she imagined herself sitting at one of the tables, with a pile of books taller than she was next to her, and of her bent over a bucket vomiting from fighting against a headache.

“What’s wrong?” Sheamus asked.

The older man had accompanied her today. Gwendith and Saki had decided to tour the town, and maybe return to Lindorn to shop for clothes. Yuriko wouldn’t mind getting a few changes as her backpack only held a few changes. They were still in pretty good condition, but with the dearth of ambient Chaos, the repair and maintenance runescript weaving in them weren’t operating at optimal capacity. She fed the weaving Animus every now and then, but the difference was still evident after nearly six weeks in this environment.

Oh well, Gwendith knew Yuriko’s preferences and body size. Er, come to think of it, so did Saki. They shouldn’t have any problem getting a new set of everyday clothes for her.

“I was just overwhelmed by the amount of books here,” Yuriko finally answered.

“You should see the Society’s library!” Douglas Hart said enthusiastically. As their guide, he had once again shown up in Yuriko’s cottage early. Though this time, he came a couple of hours after dawn, so he didn’t have to wait too long. His enthusiasm was quite infectious and Yuriko somewhat enjoyed his attitude. “I look forward to the beginning of your classes next week!” He gushed. “Ah, I’ll be in them, too!”

“Yes,” Yuriko nodded. “Well, let’s take a look. Where would you recommend we start?”

“Uhm, arcane history, perhaps?” Douglas led them to one of the shelves near the eastern end of the room. There was a sign above the shelves that read: Arcane Studies. “Most of these books are about the Karcellian Commonwealth’s lineages for the past hundred years or so, the more ancient texts are kept in the Royal Libraries…ah! There are a few reproductions you can read too…”

After a few minutes, the three of them were reading at one of the tables. Yuriko spent about ten minutes trying to decipher the writing before she had to stop. The letters on the page danced and made her dizzy, and she kept blinking away tears. She leaned back against the chair’s backrest and stared up at the ceiling. She could hear some kind of metal machine that was rumbling a bit too loudly. It spewed cold air into the room, though she barely noticed it. Considering the outside heat and humidity, it was probably a welcome relief for the few people who were also inside the library. Quite a few of the younger men stared at her when they came within her line of sight, but none actually approached. They were a rather polite bunch, weren’t they? In the Federation cities, in the few occasions when she hadn’t kept her face hidden, quite a few men, and women, had propositioned her. And while she was curious, none of them really caught her eye.

The ceiling had those electric lights, too. Her perception penetrated through the outer shells and observed how they work. Quite ingenious, these people in the Irvalla Region. They harnessed lightning and turned it into other sorts of…power…?

Her train of thought ground to a halt. Power conversion? From lightning to light. And from what she saw of their land and seacraft, they used fire, heat, and managed to convert it to kinetic force. The guns, the pseudo Plasma Casters, used explosive heat and turned it to kinetic force! Animatech did the same thing, in fact. Animus could turn to any force after all, but that didn’t mean that other methods were invalidated.

Perhaps then…she could harness any force into Animus, and from there, turn it into any kind of energy as she wanted? In fact…didn’t she have a nearly unlimited source of energy within her that wasn’t Animus? Radiant energy was constantly released from the Essence she created. It could refill her entire reserves in less than a minute, but then again, the amount she could hold in her body was minuscule compare to what could be found in nature. Well, in Rumiga anyway.

Was there a way to convert Radiant energy to Animus? And if she could figure that out, wouldn’t it allow her to merge her Animus and Radiant energy perfectly? Food for thought, and she was eager to try it. But then, releasing Radiant energy here would no doubt harm the books and the library. She’d have to do this much later.

Sighing, she buried herself back into the history book. The dry subject didn’t do her any favours, but it was the only way to get a clearer picture of the situation here. She could ask someone to tell her, but ultimately, it would be biased. No that the author of a history book wasn’t biased, but well, she supposed the process of getting things written down served to refine thoughts and ideas.

…why did she think of that?

Snorting, she grumbled to herself as she struggled through the Karcellian language. After being taught by Edison, and practicing for several weeks, she was already fluent enough for everyday conversation, but this text seemed to be in a more archaic language, and was hard to go through. Thankfully, Douglas was here to help her interpret.

The young man was reading his own textbooks, which, from the title, were simple spell cantrips that could be utilized with reusable spell cards or a simple spell focus.

She couldn’t help but overhear his mutterings. “...light can’t be controlled once cast, but dancing orbs can be. The second one takes too much focus…ah, no, no! I should finish learning guidance…”

With a sigh, she continued to read, taking a ten minute break every time her head started to spin. Even if knowledge of the past wasn’t immediately helpful, she soon found herself enjoying the tales of a bygone era.

___________

Sanctus Kingdom Border Outpost 21.

Livio Buser yawned as he stood at his watch post. Night had fallen a couple of hours ago and the mountain breeze was bloody cold. He shivered as the wind went through the watchtower, and he rubbed his hands together to generate a bit of heat.

Electric lights kept the road beyond the outpost well lit, but he didn’t expect any trouble. Outpost 21 was a bit too far from Richmond cities, and as usual, even if its neighbours were at war, Sanctus remained neutral. The countryside was too mountainous, and there was little fertile land. Sure, the valleys grew wonderful crops, but comparatively, there were far more mountains and rock than valley dirt. A plethora of narrow and treacherous mountain passes meant that any invader paid for every inch with blood. Nobody wanted to fight Sanctus for its measly treasures, which meant that guarding the borders was an exercise in futility. Nobody would bother.

Still, serving as a guard was a well paid endeavor, certainly more than what he’d earn as a farm hand. He wasn’t skilled enough to be an engineer, nor did he want to. His head for business would lead any attempt into a waste of time and money, and his voice was only suitable to bark a ‘yes, sir!’ or ‘no, sir!’ to his officers.

So, being lazy as a guard was the only thing he could see himself doing. And normally, he would never have found himself on night watch, but a botched card game against the sergeant, he certainly didn’t cheat, gave him little choice. He could do night duties for the next couple of weeks, or latrine duty. Any sane man would pick the former.

Only, he underestimated how boring it was, and how much he wanted to close his eyes and sleep. His body wasn’t used to this yet.

“Buser! Everything alright?”

Another soldier, thankfully not his sergeant, but a fellow guard, Nikol Tunka, strolled up to his post and called up to him.

“All’s clear,” Livio called back. Then, seeing the lit cigarette on Tunka’s lips, he asked, “Got a spare?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Want one?”

‘I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t!’ Livio thought sarcastically, but he kept his voice pleasant. Tunka was well into the sergeant’s good graces, after all. “I do. Can you spare one?”

“Sure.” Tunka coughed into his hands, rubbed them together, then climbed up the ladder slowly. The platform was only five cubits high, so it was an easy climb. The post was for one man only, but there was room for a second if they squeezed together. “Here.” He handed a fresh stick as well as his lit cigarette for Livio to light up his own.

“Thanks. Appreciate it.” He expertly lit his up, puffed a few draws and returned Tunka’s stick.

“Boring night, eh?” Tunka laughed. He leaned on the railings and stared down the hillside. The grass was sparse and any brushes and trees had been trimmed to make it harder for anyone to sneak up to the outpost. There weren’t many people here and honestly, they functioned more as an emergency rescue unit than anything else. The hillsides were easy to get lost in, and the hidden underground streams can be treacherous.

There were about twenty soldiers in the outpost, and they cycled to the next one every double-fortnight. By the time Livio’s spate of night duty ended, it would be time to move to Outpost 22. He looked forward to getting assigned back to the main garrison again, at least he could spend nights in town. Either at the pub, or with the girls.

They stood in companionable silence, until, “I think I’m getting married next leave.” Tunka sighed. He lit up another cigarette and tossed the cigarette butt over to the side.

“You look reluctant.” Livio laughed.

“Who wouldn’t be? I don’t want to be tied down yet, but Ma wants grandkids.” He frowned and said in a falsetto, “Bad enough you’re a border guard, but you keep sowing your wild oats! I want a legitimate grandchild!” He snorted loudly. “Heh!”

“So who’s the unlucky girl?” Livio asked idly.

“Hey!” Tunka protested, “There’s no call for that. I’d make a perfectly good husband…hey, wait.” He frowned and looked out into the hillside. “You see that?”

“Huh? What?” LIvio followed Tunka’s gaze. The night was exceptionally still, with only the breeze stirring leaves and grass. The evening lullaby of animals and insect calls was oddly absent.

“There…I think I saw something.” Tunka pointed at a shadowy spot a dozen cubits away. But…where was the shadow coming from? Livio glanced up at the skies, and saw that there wasn’t a hint of a cloud to obscure the moon.

The sound of shifting leaves grew louder. And in the distance, just at the base of the hills…

“Are those…apes?” Livio muttered. He squinted at them, and by the light of the moon, he could just barely make out the simian outlines. “Are they…red?”

“Why would there be apes here?” Tunka muttered, “I couldn’t have drunk that much beer…”

Shhhh. Shhh. Shhh.

The sound of the roaring winds going through brittle leaves drowned out every sound, and the next thing Livio knew…

Crunch.

…was darkness and death.