Scientific Sorcery : 37 The Matriarch Event Horizon (Patreon)

I grabbed my shovel and headed out of the pub, Cali trailing behind me with obvious reluctance. As we reached the desolate ruins of Svalbard, I pointed to an area where the dragonfire had left distinctive black ashes on the ground, the snow not covering up these spots.

"Let's start here," I said, plunging my shovel into the ash-covered earth.

Cali hesitated for a moment before following suit. We worked in silence for a while, the only sound the scraping of our shovels against the earth and the occasional clink of metal against debris.

As we dug, I noted a very slight, barely noticeable tingling sensation on my body.

I reached down to the ground and rubbed my hands against the bits of green-tinted, tiny crystals scattered here and there between the ashes.

In my Astralscope the small crystals radiated barely discernible, tiniest radial green-blue tinted coronas.

"That doesn't look so bad magic-wise," I said.

"Dragonglass gets more potent the older it is," Cali pointed out.

I picked a single crystal flake and held it in my fingers. The sensation of dragonglass eating at my skin was barely noticeable, a fleeting redness that vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. 

“Huh, so that’s it,” I said. “It’s so small, no wonder I didn’t notice it.”

Cali hissed out a Castian swear.

I turned to her. She, unlike me, was not faring as well. Her hands were already beginning to blister again.

"How are you doing this?" she demanded, her voice strained.

I looked from the dragonglass crystal at her. "Doing what?"

"This!" She declared. "You're digging through dragonglass like it's nothing! You’re holding it and your skin barely even reacts! It’s like you’re a 200-star Champion… but you can also do magic. It just doesn’t make any sense!”

“Oh? What are the powers of a 200-star Champion exactly?” I asked.

"A 200-star Champion is a man worth about two hundred mortals. Healing factor of 200 men, stamina of 200 men. They can't fly yet, but they're strong enough to heal from dragonglass burns in the blink of an eye."

I shook my head, feeling somewhat amused by the arbitrary nature of her classification system.

“Are you a hero or not?” She demanded.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” I said slyly.

“Only a Champion can just shrug off dragonglass like that. It's one of the most dangerous magical substances in all of Thornwild!" She insisted, hissing in pain as more of her skin peeled.

“No strength of 200 men?” I asked her.

"A 200-star Champion isn't just about raw strength," Cali elaborated, wincing as she continued to pull dragonglass crystals from the ground and throw them into the urn. "They have incredible endurance, able to run or fight without rest, able to accelerate their bodies for a bit, able to deliver a bunch in an accelerated state that can send a mortal flying.”

I nodded.

"Sometimes they display an innate understanding of something," she went on. "Like hunting, or fighting. It varies. Some know how to reinforce their blood, making them nearly impervious to normal weapons, harder to cut."

"Interesting," I nodded. "And how does one become a 200-star Champion?”

“Eat a Wormwood Star shard around 2 phalanges in length and 1 phalanx wide,” Cali said, showing me an approximation of a phalanx which was about an inch or so.

“Hmmm… I definitely don’t recall swallowing any big shiny rocks,” I said, tapping my chin.

“Maybe you ate one and forgot,” Cali said, wincing as she cast another tiny crystal into the urn.

“Nah,” I shook my head. “Definitely not. So, how does a champion gain more stars and learn to fly?”

"There are two ways for a champion to gain more power," she said, "the quick way is to consume more stardust or shards.”

“Makes sense,” I nodded.

"The slow way," Cali went on, "is to kill monsters, mortal men or other Champions and eat their hearts and drink their blood. Each consumed heart adds a fraction of power, slowly building up over time as a Champion's body digests the power.”

“Sounds gruesome,” I commented.

"It's just how things work in the wildlands. The strong men consume the weak, literally and figuratively."

"And what about flying?" I asked.

"Flying usually comes around the 700-star mark," Cali explained. "It starts with being able to jump incredibly high and far around 500 stars, then progresses to short bursts of flight, and eventually sustained flight. Oh and flying is done on a blood sword, which Champions learn to manifest around 600 stars.”

“A blood sword?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Or a mace, whip or spear. A weapon formed from their own blood,” Cali nodded. “Held together by the Champion’s will.”

“This just keeps getting more brutal,” I smiled. “Say, how come there are still men left? You’d think they’d just eat each other or something.”

“Eating men is ineffective,” Cali said. “It contaminates the blood for too long, makes a Champion weak for a while. They have to meditate for a long time as the old blood digests the new.”

"So, if you had managed to bind me as your Champion," I said. "How would you make me gain power?"

“I’d sculpt you… verrrry slowly and carefully,” she said, eyeing me with what appeared to be a hungry glance. 

“Uh-huh?” 

"In Iridium," Cali began, "Champions are property. Many of them are bred, raised, and trained and sold to serve their Sorceress mistresses. The most promising ones are selected early and given Star-Shards to consume, jumpstarting their internal cultivation. They’re taught to meditate, to still their minds and bodies and to inhale and store Aether in their blood, to pull radiance of the Wormwood Star that’s permeating the very air of Iridum.

"Once a Champion reaches about 100 stars, they're usually assigned tasks–cleaning city streets or working jobs that require stamina. At around the 200-star mark they are sent out to hunt monsters, gather resources from dangerous areas, or even fight other Champions in Gladiatorial Arenas for the entertainment of the Sorceresses."

"And if they refuse?" I asked, already dreading the answer.

Cali's eyes met mine, "Refusals don’t happen. The Champions are bound to obey their girls... their compliance is ensured simply by the interaction with our Auras, which are amplified by our Star-Shards. An Arcanicx cannot turn her Aura off. Generation by generation our Auras and tools got stronger, better at manipulating men. The older an Arcanics gets, the bigger the reach of their Aura becomes.”

“Oh,” I blinked. “Arcanicx Auras… stack too, is that it?”

“Yes,” Cali nodded. “At an Arena, beneath the eyes of ten thousand Sorceresses a Champion is bathed in thousands of potent Auras. They cannot help but do their best, cannot help but please the crowd! Fear or rejection of an order doesn’t even cross their mind as they pummel each other or obliterate captured monsters and eat their hearts!”

“So if I were to walk through the streets of Iridium…” I said.

“Your mind would succumb almost instantly to the multitude of Arcanicx there,” Cali said. “You’d drown in pure joy of it all… be happy to serve every gal who’d lay her eyes on you. Blood contracts are a necessary leash that prevents Champions from wandering off after the girl with the most potent Aura.”

I whistled.

“This is why you must never go South, Ioan,” Cali said. “If I was able to affect your body slightly, then a city with a multitude of Sorceresses will be your undoing. You'll simply beg to be collared there as your mind succumbs to our combined allure. The wild Star-Eaters know this, avoid the cities bordering the Castian Sea like the plague.”

“There are no Star-Eater cities then?” I asked.

“No,” Cali said simply. “Long ago the army of a thousand Sorceresses brought the Cult of the White Mountain Citadel to a standstill by simply marching towards their gates. The Immortal men couldn't hurt a single one of us, welcomed our invasion force with open arms. Since then, we have not allowed men to build great citadels of power.”

“Damn,” I said, appreciating the scale of the takeover of the Matriarch Magocracy.

“Places like Svalbard and Bernt are allowed to exist because they are gradually dying out, filled with worthless mortals,” Cali revealed. “But if a powerful enough Champion arises somewhere North or South of Castia, they're usually snatched up by one of us quickly. This is because of the existence of Grand Seers like Amari, Arch-Sorceresses that sell information about upcoming hero manifestations to the highest bidder at Seeker auctions.”

“Well, I'm sold,” I said. 

“Sold on what?” Cali blinked at me.

“On heading South,” I laughed. “An entire city of girlbosses? How can I resist the allure of seeing that live? A Charisma event horizon, getting worse the more South one goes? That’s incredibly interesting from a scientific point of view of unravelling the nature of magical evolution in correlation to the sexual dimorphism!”

“What are you, some kind of an obstinate fool?” Cali growled. “Are you deaf? Did you even listen to what I said?! They'll eat you alive there, allure you into perpetual servitude! You can't just walk into Iridium!”

“Ehh,” I shrugged. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“What is wrong with you?” Cali snapped, throwing another dragonglass crystal into the urn and hissing from its effects.

“I simply don't like being told that I can't do something, that something is impossible, insurmountable,” I explained. “That just encourages me to do it harder.”

“Argh!” Cali threw her hands up in the air. “You're impossible! I'm freaking done! I look and feel like an over-baked potato! Can we please go back to the pub now so you can heal me? Everything feels like it's on fire!”

“Fine, fine,” I said. “I think that’s enough dragonglass gathering for today.”