Amazon Apocalpse 4: Chapter 11 (Patreon)

I woke still on top of Cyra. I showered in the small stall off to the side of the tent and was midway through brewing coffee when Cyra got up herself.

“I left you some hot water there!” I waved to the shower stall. It was a simple thing, really. An enchantment gathered water into a bag suspended from the ceiling, and water drained from the bag in a shower-like fountain. Still, by Themyscira’s medieval standards, it was downright luxurious. I had to show Cyra how to work the device, and then I went back to finish breakfast.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much more than dried oats and fruits. I did my best with them, but I certainly wasn’t Bridget. Cyra ate three bowls like it was ambrosia and then gulped down an entire pot of scalding hot coffee.

After packing up the tent, we started walking back in the direction we’d come from. By the time we arrived back at the inn, a crowd was already gathering outside, with more streaming in from the wilderness beyond and a few more trickling in from the other side of the magic crystal arch that led back to Glacia and perhaps other worlds as well.

“Graduate student examinees, all report for the examination grounds!” a disembodied female voice called out to us.

We all looked around, not just to find the origin of the voice, but also to find these examination grounds. We were all standing on a cobblestone road wide enough to be a four-lane highway back on Earth. The sides were lined with buildings, the first of which was the inn on the right, where many people with more money than sense had spent the night.

There were plenty more buildings ahead of us, but none of them called themselves examination grounds.

“Do you guys think that finding the examination grounds is part of the test?” asked an excited young man. I turned and saw Borelius Limstave, the overly dressed young man who’d been so eager to tell us about his family background.

“You two are determined to compete in the big leagues, are you?” he waggled his manicured eyebrows.

“We are,” Cyra replied in a flat and even tone. Though as Borelius tilted his nose up at us in a smug and self-assured manner, she sent me a glance that seemed to signal she was ready to take off if I was.

“You know, I didn’t finish introducing myself the other day,” Borelius replied. He was completely ignorant to Cyra's desire to be left alone.

Cyra jerked a thumb behind her like she intended to run and wanted me to join her, but I held off. I was genuinely curious what the upper crust of the Arcadia Multiverse was like. Myrina and Cyra seemed normal enough, though from what I’d heard, that was by their ancestor’s design. Young masters of established houses, given every resource and the opportunity to grow up in the heart of civilization, seemed to grow up with a less-than-ideal attitude to the rest of the world. It was the reason the Samhain Clan kept their ancestral lands around, despite having grown far beyond it.

Sakura sometimes mentioned the things her family put her through to make sure she turned out right. She went into a lot of detail about how she’d make sure her own children turned out well, often using me as the hypothetical father. Most wealthy families had a plan they passed through the generations, but it usually involved making their kid work a normal job. Something like Sakura managing our office, or Cyra running the Samhain Clan’s fief on Themyscira. Sure, both had gotten some help from their families to get these rare opportunities, but they were both expected to work hard and perform.

This work helped groom young minds into the sort of people who could be trusted with an ever-increasing amount of their family fortune and responsibility. In my youth, my family was never one of particularly impressive means, but my parents often worked for those who were, so I’d picked up a few of these tricks. They hadn’t seemed important to me at the time, but now that I had an increasingly large fortune on my hands and Bridget had mentioned a desire for kids, these sorts of things were on my mind more often.

If I was being honest, the idea of kids scared me more than the end of the world. But the way I’d eased my mind about that was by preparing for it. Surely, any serious talk about kids was decades away, so I’d have plenty of time to prepare.

This Borelius Limstave fellow seemed like a prime example of what I didn’t want from any kids of mine. If I could find out where his parents went wrong, I could make notes accordingly. And maybe I could even wring a few enchanting secrets out of him while I was at it.

So, like a scientist eying a fresh batch of mice, I rubbed my hands together and approached today’s subject of experimentation.

“You’re really Borelius Limstave? Truly marvelous. I had no idea we’d meet a member of the Limstave family here.”

“I am indeed.” Borelius puffed up his chest and straightened his embroidered robes. “We make the finest staffs on Glacia, and there are six artificers in my family, either born and bred or married into it. I am only an enchanter, but with the right job upgrade, I too shall become an artificer.”

“An artificer! How impressive.” The more I praised the foppish young man, the more he puffed his chest out. By now, his nose was upturned so much I feared he was going to fall over. Still, if this naive young man was so easily flattered, I ought to see if I could get a few family secrets out of him.

“Say...” I said, feigning embarrassment. “I’m a spellcaster myself. I’ve always wanted to hold a Limstave staff. Just for a moment, you see. Just to know what wielding one feels like, you know. Is there any chance I could hold yours? I won’t even cast anything, I just want to look at it.”

Borelius opened his eyes finally, hesitating a moment. In his hands, he held a fine staff. He glanced between me and Cyra, and I sensed a pinch of worry in his brows.

“This is one of my family’s more expensive works. I don’t know...” he looked at the two of us like he thought we’d run off with his precious staff if he handed it off to either of us. It seemed like he wasn’t entirely a fool, then. Not that I had ever planned on stealing his staff. I just wanted a good look at the enchantments lining its length. This Limstave family seemed to be one of my biggest competitors when it came to selling stuff to the Dragon Lodge.

I let the request hang for but a moment before waving it off. “Forget about it. The staff isn’t nearly as important as being able to talk with you. It’s probably wise of you to not let something like that fall into the hands of strangers.”

“Yes, yes, that’s it exactly. Thank you,” Borelius sighed in relief.

I turned to Cyra, who had a quizzical look in her eyes. “Let’s go find those examination grounds. We wouldn’t want to miss the first stage of testing.”

“There has to be a sign somewhere.” Cyra dipped her head down the street, squinting in the distance. “I think I see something in that direction. Others are headed that way as well.”

“I think you’re right. Let’s catch up with the others. Maybe we can figure out what tests were supposed to pass before we begin.”

Borelius looked over my shoulder, squinting as well. I doubted his perception stat was as high as mine or Cyra’s though, so he probably couldn’t see anything.

“Ah, yes, the testing grounds, of course. In that direction, you said?” he glanced at the two of us hopefully.

I quirked the tiniest bit of a smile but quickly squashed the facial motion. Controlling my expressions had gotten much easier as I raised my Charisma.

“Would you do us the honor of accompanying us, Young Master Limstave?”

Borelius tilted his chin up once more. “Yes, I would.”

***

I spoke with Borelius a bit more about his family and his upbringing as we walked. He wasn’t as bad a guy as I thought from his original introduction. It was great luck that I was here with Cyra rather than Myrina though. Cyra was content to not breathe a word of the Samhain family name, but I could see Myrina getting into a competition with the troubled young man over who’s family held the most renown. I suspect the Samhains were the clear winner from Cyra’s disinterested expression, but I didn’t know for sure.

In the end, I judged Borelius to be someone more used to sycophants than friends. His stories of his friends seemed to me like a never-ending series of him being taken advantage of. Perhaps he was mildly autistic or emotionally underdeveloped when it came to other people.

“So, young master Limstave, I’m curious what life was like for you growing up in something as prestigious as the Limstave family.”

“Oh please, others may call me young master Limstave, but truthfully, it makes me feel too much like my father. You seem like a decent and respectful sort, so just call me Borelius. Young Master Borelius, if you must. But what my youth was like, it was tragically difficult. I assure you my station came with great responsibility from an early age...”

We finally found the examination grounds three streets and fifteen minutes of walking later. All the while, Borelius regaled me with his many trials from his youth. None of them seemed like much to me, but Borelius clearly felt otherwise.

“--And so I said, why in the System’s name would you use a silver spoon for your caviar? Anything other than enchanted gold will absolutely ruin the flavor!”

He laughed, and I did my best to laugh as well.

“Too funny, Borelius. Too funny,” I chuckled. “Anyhow, it looks like this is where we part ways. There are two separate lines here, and you’re undoubtedly heading toward that one.”

Borelius glanced up. He looked like he hadn’t been at all conscious of his surroundings as he told me his stories. He’d just been following Cyra and me. If we’d led him down a dark alley, he wouldn’t have noticed until now.

“Oh, yes. Yes, I’m going to the line for prestigious families with personal recommendations. I wish you both the best of luck in the open exams. I truly hope the two of you can get in. And Carter, here. You wanted to hold this a moment, didn’t you?”

He thrust his staff into my hands, and my eyes widened in genuine gratitude. I hadn’t expected him to show me his staff so soon after meeting. All it had taken was a few friendly words and a short walk.

I gripped the length of hardwood and ran fond fingers along its length. Thick, neutral mana flowed through its core, ready to erupt in a potent spell at any time.

The shielding on the enchantments was impressive, but between the affinity for enchantments granted by Master Artificer and my new Dragoneyed Mage ability, I could see through them like they were made of tissue paper. I wouldn’t be able to replicate the staff without seeing it in action, but just seeing how a long-established clan made something like this showed me what was considered the right direction to take a staff.

Doomseeker was due for some upgrades. It seemed like other spellcasters used their staffs as an aiming and control tool and less like a power reserve, like I’d been using. There were several enchantments meant to increase the spread of certain area of effect spells and the focus of the spellcaster. That seemed like a bit of a crutch to me since all that could be done with willpower alone. But if the Dragon Lodge wanted that, I’d be happy to oblige.

I handed the staff back as soon as I saw Borelius’ fingers started twitching. I hadn’t learned nearly what I wanted, but if I played my cards right, I’d get an opportunity to examine the staff in more depth the next time I saw this foppish young man.

“Truly marvelous. Best of luck with your exams, Borelius.” I handed him back his staff.

“And you both as well.” Borelius strode off with a bit of extra pep in his step as he made his way to the smaller of the two lines.

When he was out of earshot, I turned to Cyra, who looked at me with an eyebrow raised.

“So is the Limstave family important or not?”

Cyra wiggled her hand from side to side.

“They own a few large workshops. No territories, but a lot of money flows through them. You’d need about twenty times your current number of employees to rival them.”

“That’s all?” I frowned. All I had was a mere half-dozen workshops under my command and a few hundred enchanters total. Well, plus some smiths on Earth, a hundred goblin technicians, a constant supply of cheap monster cores and... alright, with all that added up it was starting to sound halfway impressive.

Twenty times my number of workers would place them somewhere in the low tens of thousands of employees. In old Earth terms, their family might have owned a small to mid-sized car manufacturing brand. For all his smug superiority, Borelius’ family didn’t even run a company as large as Sakura’s family did.

They were wealthy but not quite a household name. Maybe if my production facilities in Shadefall and Crownhill had been my life’s work, I’d have felt differently. But really, all that was something I’d thrown together in just a couple weeks when the opportunity struck. And every time I visited either place, my own operations had once again expanded.

I mentioned my thoughts aloud to Cyra while we waited in line. It was nearly an hour before the two of us were up.

“Give me your names and references,” said the official on duty. They were C-Grade and wore robes, but they didn’t quite strike me as a wizard. Certainly not one like Galbatorix. He seemed more like a career office worker. In fact, when I examined him, that’s exactly what he was.

Official Rykard (Level 185)

It was a good thing this job hadn’t shown up in the Obelisk. Before the integration, many people in Crownhill had been some form of administrator or office worker. With bureaucrat jobs as an option, it might have been all too easy to go right back to shuffling papers.

Maybe in a large and established society that was a necessary evil, but we’d needed fighters. Thankfully, the Obelisk had offered choices that would support either the war or the reconstruction effort.

“Our reference is Galbatorix, a wizard of the Dragon Lodge,” I answered.

Official Rykard frowned. “Long bushy beard? Floppy hat? Has little corner shops across a hundred worlds?”

“Maybe?” Cyra and I glanced at one another and shrugged.

The official frowned. “Let me check to make sure you actually need to take the test.”

Official Rykard ducked around the corner and activated a communication device. Meanwhile, Cyra and I shifted uncomfortably at the eyes staring into the backs of our heads. Did Galbatorix have more pull with the Dragon Lodge than we thought? And what was that about him having hundreds of shops? Just being able to maintain two at the same time was impressive enough.

I’d thought he was teleporting between them quickly or using some sort of magical projection ability, but that wouldn’t work spread across hundreds of shops. If the man hadn’t been so good to us, I would have been eager to peer in on his secrets, but I’d stifled my curiosity for him. Still, the next time we met I doubted I’d be able to help myself from asking.

Nearly a minute later, Official Rykard appeared again.

“Alright, so you are taking the test, just not this one. You’re supposed to be in the other line for the young elite test.” The official jerked his head to the other line.

“Oh, sorry.” Cyra and I shrugged before leaving the line and joining the one we’d seen Borelius join when we parted ways. There was no sign of him here now since this line had been much shorter and cleared up long ago.

Official Rykard joined us while someone else filled in for him in the previous line. He invited the two of us into a small private office, where we sat down across from him.

“So I’m told the two of you are affiliated with the Samhain Clan. Is that true?” Official Rykard eyed the two of us, Cyra especially.

Cyra shrugged. “Cyra Samhain, present. This is Carter. He’s my sister’s husband. And maybe mine too, depending on whether or not certain paperwork went through.” She ran her fingers through her hair with a sheepish smile.

“Ah, well, congratulations to you both then? Anyway, by background alone, you’re qualified to take the elite exam. The elite exam singles you out for unique privileges. The courses are populated either by graduates of our academies or by people of exceptional backgrounds, such as yourselves. I won’t mince words. This elite test is far harder than the general test. People like you have had years of training and extensive education, so it isn’t really fair to compare the normal C-Grade to people like you. You’ll need to pass a higher bar than them.”

“We are up for the challenge,” Cyra nodded, but I was less certain.

“Wait, I just married into an impressive family. I’m not actually from one.”

Official Rykard cast me a sympathetic look. “I asked that exact question, but I’m told you especially should take the elite exams. It was part of Master Galbatorix recommendation. It says here that you wield three Dragon Lodge signature spells that indicate extensive tutoring by a member of our order.”

I glanced at Cyra, who smiled and nodded. “I believe in you, Carter.”

I frowned. Just what was that old wizard playing it?