Caladin’s Climb—Part 35 (Patreon)

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          No. Caladin couldn’t accept that. He couldn’t accept that anything could be indestructible. There was a weakness; he just had to find it.

          He flew in, swooping low and staying out of any direct line with its cannon arms. They tried to follow him but were too slow. He came in around its backside and started throwing everything he had at it. One spell after the next, just to see what would happen: pyromancy, cryomancy, ferromancy, armamancy, kinomancy, umbramancy. He even tried a poison nidomancy gas he’d read about that could corrode metals. Nothing. None of his attacks had a noticeable effect. He was forced to fly off again as the cannon arms twisted to point towards him. While avoiding the machine’s arms, he reassessed his options. While he wasn’t terribly surprised throwing ice or corrosive gas at the thing had failed where a Pyroclastic Explosion already had, but he needed to find something that could at least do partial damage. It didn’t seem like anything had worked at all.

          The only magic that had any response at all was ferromancy, as he’d felt some resistance when he’d tried to push against the machine. Pushing the metal around was not the same as a weakness. All that really meant was that it was, in fact, a metal. Something he had already guessed. He tried a few combo spells instead. Pyromancy and fulgramancy. Nothing. Armamancy and gravimancy. Nothing. Ferromancy and cryomancy. That caused it to rock back slightly but was otherwise negligible. He’d have to get more creative. The machine was massive, so maybe it had an operator that was controlling it. Using a powerful lithomancy compulsion, Caladin cupped his hands and screamed out, “STOP!” as loud as he could.

          One of the arms clicked into place and blasted a crystal spear at Caladin’s glowing Ward Net. It struck him a glancing blow, which sent him rebounding away, skipping across the grassy field that surrounded the city like a stone across a pond. Caladin was more frustrated that his plan to attack the mind of the operator had failed than that he’d been hit. Clearly, whatever operator there was had the same protections as the rest of the machine did. That left only one thing Caladin had yet to try. Something he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to turn to again…

          Taking a quick glance at his mana bars to find he’d expended a quarter of his supply. He didn’t need to worry just yet. Caladin pulled out Belorian’s Crown and teleported himself to the back of the construct’s shoulders. That seemed like the place it would take the machine the longest to aim at him. With a grimace, Caladin placed the crown on his forehead.

          Hatred consumed Caladin’s mind. How dare this toy embarrass him! He was the great Archmage Caladin! The dwarves were too cowardly to send a real wizard out to face him. They deserved to be punished for their hubris. If they were going to cheat, it should have been to send a hundred wizards against him. Or a thousand! He stood on the construct’s shoulders, looking down over the smooth, interlocking plates of reflective black metal that made up the construct. He hated how genius it appeared, just as he hated how its proportions most closely imitated the dwarves that had created it. While he studied it, one of the cannon arms cycled into place to face Caladin. He held his own hand out to block it. When a crystal shot out of the tube, it was met by a wall of darkness that consumed the attack before it could reach Caladin. He only expanded that darkness from there, turning it into a tidal wave that wrapped the machine all the way to the ground. Nothing could survive the void. Nothing could—

          A mechanical hand reached out of the darkness and swatted Caladin to the ground. He fell, the last remnants of the Ward Net spell he no longer understood how to control protecting him from the damage he should have taken from falling from such a height. Before him was only a cloud of swirling darkness. Then how had the creation grabbed him? He had his answer a moment later, when a mechanical foot stepped out of the void. A head followed, then a shoulder. Soon the rest of the construct emerged, seemingly unconcerned and undamaged by the experience. It wasted no time and aiming one of its cannons at him again. Caladin was forced to catch the crystal projectile that fired out with a pocket of consuming darkness, but it was close. Why could his lunamancy consume the projectiles the machine fired, but not the machine itself? Lunamancy was supposed to be the ultimate power. The power that could unmake and consume all others. How could something survive it? If he hadn’t seen it happen before his eyes, he would have thought it impossible. Another projectile fired out of the machine’s hand. It didn’t do any damage, but Caladin could sense his mana belts draining away. Erasing matter with lunamancy was expensive.

          It took effort, but Caladin managed to convince himself to take his own crown off. He had to tell himself that he needed access to other magics if he wanted to find a way to defeat this enemy. As the crown went, so too went Caladin’s control over lunamancy. Another crystal fired at him and was blocked by the lingering cloud of lunamancy, but the cloud dissolved as it was struck. The fog of malice dissipated from Caladin’s mind as he returned the crown to one of his enchanted pockets. Enchanted with… vocomancy! That was it!

          When the construct had arrived on the battlefield, he’d seen it teleported in with vocomancy, so he knew that was one vulnerability. If destroying the damned thing was so impossible, he could just… get rid of it! It was big, so it would take a monumental amount of mana to do it, but he thought he could probably afford to send it where he wanted with half of his remaining mana. There was somewhere he’d traveled to before by accident that he suddenly realized would be the perfect place to send his new friend. Caladin flew in close and placed a hand on the machine, then dumped an enormous volume of mana, sending it as he could manage straight up.

          Ka-crack!

          Rather than the simple pop of displaced air that normally accompanied vocomancy, the burst that followed the disappearance of the machine was much louder. Especially for Caladin, being as close as he’d been. He took to the air again, pride swelling his chest. “Citizens of Kundreil!” he boomed out to the city, magic projecting his voice. “You thought you could stand against the great and powerful Archmage Caladin, but you could not. Nobody can. Not an army, not the greatest wizard among you, and certainly not some construct of metal and magic. Now I will sue for peace on behalf of my king, the great King Philipus Haedril. Let us not be—”

          Ka-crack!

          Caladin’s victory speech was interrupted by a violent rush of air beneath him. He looked down and his stomach dropped. The golem was back. They’d teleported it back as easy as that. He hadn’t purchased a victory; he’d only bought a few moments of respite. “Damn!” Caladin cursed, only realizing too late that his voice was still being enhanced. A cheer went up from the soldiers manning the city’s walls.

          The golem raised its arm. It fired another crystal spear at Caladin. His response was forced. Everything he’d attempted was forced. Staying to fight it more would be pointless. Rather than defend against the projectile, he teleported back home. Back to Fort Sumnter.

          Pop.

          Caladin was back in the courtyard. No crying cheer of victory awaited him this time, only a bored-looking Galeonis. The skinny eldrin’s head shot up when Caladin returned. He smiled. “Mr. Caladin, sir. You’re back! Did you find everything…” He trailed off as he looked Caladin over. Though his Ward Net had protected him from the brunt of the damage, he was still covered in dirt and he had little doubt his despondent attitude was writ large on his face. “You look… disheveled,” Galeonis said. “What happened in Kundreil?”

          Caladin brushed some dust off his robe. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.

          “Did you engage the dwarven champion?” Galeonis asked. “Did you discover what they’d been using all that gold for?”

          “I don’t really know if I faced their champion,” Caladin admitted. “They had some kind of giant metal golem there. I never saw who was controlling it, but maybe they were hiding inside. It was… ready for me. In more ways than one.”

          “So the dwarven champion operated a golem?” Galeonis clarified. “A ferromancer then? What news should I tell the king?”

          Caladin sighed. “Tell him I’m tired. Tell him I need to rest and think of a plan. The dwarves seem to have designed a mechanical creation that counters all the magics I’ve used in the past. Nothing I tried worked on the damn thing. Tell him I’ve made a tactical retreat while I think of my next approach.”

          Galeonis offered a smile, but it was a thin one. “Disappointing news,” he said, “but I will do as you say. He may not much care for the news…”

          Caladin threw up his hands, frustration finally reaching a boiling point. “What does he expect out of me? I used every magic there is against that thing. Every harmonic I thought had even the slightest chance of damaging it! Who else could do that?”

          “I didn’t say anyone else could—”

          “Well, the dwarves clearly hoped to kill me with their little machine. They failed. Tell the king that. Tell them the dwarves set a trap for me and I survived it. I engaged the new magical construct they’ve created and gain valuable battlefield experience. Now I need to take a nap while I think through how I’ll approach the damn thing the next time I meet it.”

          Galeonis offered a quick bow. “I will pass on the message immediately,” he vowed. He turned around to scurry off just as some powerful blast resounded through the castle. “What was that?” Galeonis asked.

          “I’m… not sure,” Caladin said. “I’ll go check.” He heard another bang. This time he noticed a flash of light coming from the North side of the castle. It created a partial dome shape. To Caladin’s eyes that look suspiciously like the Ward Net surrounding the castle had been activated.

          Bang!

          Another. Caladin took to the air so he could see what was causing it. He didn’t have to get far off the ground before he saw it. That… thing! That golem. It had followed him! The thing stood in the jungle forests that surrounded the castle, peeking above the treetops. It looked like it was alone. Not that it needed any help.

          Bang!

          It was blasting the wards surrounding the castle with those cannon arms it had. He watched as a crystal bolt slammed into the shimmering barrier around the fortress, causing an almost beautiful spray of shards to suspend in the air before raining down. He almost would have appreciated the gorgeous sparkle of rainbow if it hadn’t spelled his doom.

          Bang!

          How long could the wards withstand such an assault? They were being directly fed by the castle’s mana well, but there were limits. The strain would eventually cause the wards to overheat, even as masterfully crafted out of silver engravings as they’d been. Once they melted to slag, the barrier would fall, then all that would stand between them and annihilation would be the stone walls of the castle. Caladin saw a retinue of bodyguards exit the North side of the castle to inspect the cause of the disruption, as he himself was doing. The king was among them. He flew in that direction and settled to the ground.

          “What is going on?” Philipus demanded when he saw Caladin. He had that black rod in his hands and clearly intended to use it.

          “Don’t waste that on the golem,” Caladin said, indicating the rod of destruction. “It won’t work.” He pointed to the metal giant standing outside their wards, pounding them with crystal spears the size of wagons. “That is the dwarven champion,” Caladin explained. “I engaged it and it followed me back here.”

          “You didn’t destroy it?” Philipus asked. “I don’t understand. Why would you not get rid of it?”

          “I tried!” Caladin shouted in frustration. “It is indestructible. Even lunamancy did nothing. I had to retreat to think of a new strategy. They must’ve… realized this was the ideal time to go on the offensive.”

          Bang!

          Another blast struck the barrier. “It’s okay,” Philipus said. He smiled at his men, nodding. “The defenses are holding. It cannot get to us. The mana well will keep the wards charged indefinitely.” The king glanced back at Caladin, and though he didn’t make any overt gesture, Caladin sensed he was putting on a show of confidence, which he wanted Caladin to back him up on. “It is a fortunate thing we got those new wards installed so quickly,” Philipus said. “You see, men? This is Archmage Caladin’s Ultimate Defense. Twice as effective as any other ward and impossible to break!”

          The men gave a cheer.

          “Yes… we are very fortunate those were installed in time,” Caladin agreed, trying his best to support the king’s false bravado. It was true, though, that the wards would likely already be at risk of cracking if they’d been of a more standard design. As it stood, the reduced strain of the net would massively extend their durability. It would just be up to Caladin to make that time matter. The dwarven machine was clearly designed to siege castles. He could only imagine what reward they’d been promised if they could solve the “Caladin” problem.

          Philipus frowned. “We should return inside, men,” he decided. “Make ready to fight. When Caladin gives us an opening, we will counterattack.” That was a popular decision, eliciting another cheer. The retinue returned to the Northern gate of the castle. Inside, Philipus issued orders to his generals to rouse the troops for a combat action, then he motioned for Caladin to follow him into his study. Only when they were alone did his mask fall. He rubbed a hand over his face, lips pressed tight with stress.

          Foom!

          From within the castle, the sound of the sieging enemy was more muted, but still evident. “I could… stop the sound from reaching us,” Caladin offered. “The mana cost would be minimal.”

          “Better not,” Philipus said. “The men could use the reminder that this is serious. What happened in Kundreil?”

          “It was a trap,” Caladin said. “They were waiting for me. I don’t know how they created that golem, but it was like it was built to be immune to every offensive magic I’ve ever demonstrated in combat. I’m not even sure where to start in designing a spell that will work against it. I need to… meditate on it,” Caladin said, thinking of entering the dreaming so he could consult with Andrea.

          “Will that take long?” Philipus asked. “Will the defenses last?” That confirmed that despite the bluster he’d had with the others, he knew perfectly well they weren’t indefinitely safe from the sieging golem.”

          “They should last a few hours,” Caladin reassured him. “Just because it’s firing at one spot doesn’t mean the strain there will be any greater than anywhere else. I designed it to disperse force across the whole sphere. Maybe the golem will run out of mana before then. We can only hope.”

          “What can we do to help while you try to find us a way out of this?” Philipus asked.

          “Lock down the castle,” Caladin advised. “Keep everyone away from the mana well. Not a drop of mana is to be used on anything but defense until this threat is dealt with. And maybe have some cryomancers keep the enchantments from overheating. That will buy a bit more time… but the mana strain. Maybe better to use mundane water. Cryomancy is fairly useless.”

          The king nodded. “Consider it done. Do you… have a plan?” He was chewing on the inside of his cheek, not something Caladin had ever seen him do before. The stress was already getting to him.

          Foom! The assault outside continued. Relentlessly.

          “I have a plan on how to make a plan,” Caladin promised. “Just give me a few hours. Tell the men I’m working on something. And get my family back behind the castle’s walls.”

          “I will do so,” Philipus said. He made for the door. “You are welcome to stay here. I will have the artificers inspect the wards and fetch you if they start to show signs of breaking down.”

          Caladin nodded and heard the king make an exuberant announcement as he opened the door to his study and strode out. “At my instruction, Archmage Caladin is undergoing…”

          It was a lot of pressure to put on Caladin, but he didn’t see that there was any choice. The golem had been introduced as a counter to his dominance, so he was the only one in a position to counteract it. He wondered what Brorn would do in a similar situation. Probably retreat to that place of otherworldly darkness where none could follow. Too bad that wasn’t an option for Caladin and the thousands of lives that were depending on him. Caladin’s best idea was to head back to that dwarven city the thing had come from and rain down fire and mayhem on them. Maybe with enough chaos he could force the golem to retreat to deal with him and buy the wards in Fort Sumnter precious time to recover. And if it didn’t come for him… perhaps he could find and interrogate some of the artificers that had been involved in the golem’s construction. It wasn’t a plan with a huge chance of success, but he kept it in mind as a back-up option as he turned to what he thought was his best chance of figuring a way out of this: Andrea.

          Caladin laid down on the couch in the king’s study and cast the modified version of Sleep Walk he’d developed that would connect his dreams up to Andrea’s. A vision of her appeared before him, crouched in the air like she was sitting at a desk. She looked to be writing something. “Cally?” she asked, looking up. “What’s up? Did you need something?”

          “Yes!” Caladin replied immediately. “I’m kind of in the middle of a situation right now. The dwarves sent some kind of indestructible golem after me. I don’t know how to damage it. Please tell me you do. It followed me home and is now sieging the fortress I’m in.”

          “Indestructible?” Andrea asked. She raised an eyebrow. “Define the term.”

          “I used Pyroclastic Destruction on it and it did nothing. Neither did lunamancy! I can teleport it with vocomancy, but that’s it, and it doesn’t even slow it down. I’m out of ideas.”

          “This, uh, golem. Is it made of a black metal?”

          “Yes! I forgot to mention that. Why? Do you know what it is?”

          Andrea pursed her lips. “I do,” she confirmed, “but something like that shouldn’t exist on the Outside.”

          “I don’t care what’s supposed to be possible or not,” Caladin said. “Just tell me what you know about it, and how to stop it.”

          “We have a material in here that matches your description. It’s called adamantium, and it’s nearly indestructible. That sounds like what they’re using.”

          “Nearly?” Caladin asked, feeling the first glimmer of hope. “So it can be damaged?”

          “That depends on the grade,” Andrea said. “At the highest grade, you would need to drop a moon on it before it would even be scratched. I’m not sure how artificers on the Outside could have developed adamantium without help. The construction process is incredibly involved. Even in Tel’Andrid the permits required to craft it are almost impossible to get. Outsiders shouldn’t even know about adamantium, let alone know how to make it.”

          “Well, they made it,” Caladin said. “The ‘how’ doesn’t matter much, does it? Just tell me how to break it.”

          “I can’t,” Andrea said. “It is temporally locked; the enchantments that make it so strong protect themselves. Why do you think lunamancy doesn’t work on it? It’s created with a combination of metallurgy with chronomancy. Any damage it suffers isn’t so much prevented as it is delayed, it’s just that the delay is so long it might as well be infinite. You can wear it down with lunamancy, but the process takes days and will end up costing the same amount of mana as was spent creating the original enchantments. There’s no way to cheat them. That could work, depending how small it is.”

          Caladin shook his head. “No. That’s not an option. This thing is taller than the castle I’m hiding in right now. It’s absurdly large.”

          Andrea tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Huh. Whoever designed it sounds like they knew what they were doing. I think I know who might have spilled this secret. What an interesting conundrum. I can try to report this to the council, but then I’d have to explain how I knew about it…”

          “You’re getting distracted,” Caladin complained. “Can you tell me if there’s any other way to damage it? I don’t have days to wait around for lunamancy to do it.”

          “Luminomancy can heat it up,” Andrea offered. “That’s the only other harmonic that has any noticeable effect on it. Tell me, Cally, how rare is gold on the Outside? I thought you said it was expensive.”

          “It is,” Caladin said. “What does that have to do with anything?”

          “The method we use to manufacture adamantium requires gold as the input material. I’m not sure how someone could have managed such a large construct if it’s as rare and valuable as you say.”

          “That’s what they needed the gold for then!” Caladin exclaimed. The puzzle clicked into place for Caladin then. The construct had probably started construction around when Caladin had been crushing Fayse’s armies with Pyroclastic Destruction. It was created using arcane secrets from Tel’Andrid, but required the vast resources of the dwarves.

          “So they did have access to enough gold to make this thing?” Andrea asked.

          “Yes,” Caladin confirmed. “They had to have beggared their nation to do it, but they must consider the cost worth it to stop me. Tell me, why does luminomancy work while other harmonics fail?”

          “Luminomancy is light,” Andrea said, as though the answer was self-explanatory. “What, you don’t know how fast light is?”

          “I never really thought about it,” Caladin admitted.

          “Well, trust me. It’s fast. That’s why delaying the effects of luminomancy doesn’t work, but that hardly matters most of the time. It’s almost impossible to make a strong enough attack to do serious damage against a reflective surface like that. I’m not sure which option would be cheaper, mana-wise, but they’ll both be expensive.”

          “Okay,” Caladin said. “I think I have enough to try a few things now. Thanks, Andrea.”

          Caladin ended his spell before Andrea even had a chance to reply. With the information he’d been given, Caladin knew luminomancy and lunamancy were his best chances to come up with some kind of spell that could work. Perhaps combining the harmonics together. The only problem was that he still didn’t know the rune forms for lunamancy without Belorian’s crown. And the crown stripped away his mastery of lithomacy when he used it. Caladin had considered making alterations to the enchantments of the crown for a while, but it seemed too risky. If he broke the thing, he might never be able to get it to work again. Now the situation had forced his hand. He could still hear the occasional echo of the attacks against the fort’s wards. A ticking clock if ever there was one.

          Sitting down at King Haedril’s desk, Caladin pulled out Belorian’s crown from his pocket and gave it a close examination. Using luminomancy to enhance the visual scale of the crown as it reached his eyes, he was able to make out a flowing script of runes. They were etched in miniature and with strange flourishes that made it hard to read, but the heart of the rune forms was unmistakable to him once he got past that. It seemed the surface of the crown was absolutely covered in this fine script. Too much to read in the time Caladin had, so he was forced to skim for recognizable patterns. He saw protections to keep the crown from being damaged that were repeated at regular intervals. Another repeating pattern instructed the crown to draw power from… something Caladin couldn’t translate. He focused on the sections that didn’t repeat. He found a line written in cerebromancy runes that mentioned altering the mind of the bearer to mimic… cryomancy mastery? That didn’t make sense. He doubled and tripled checked that section, but there it was. Not able to make sense of that, he moved past it. Then after several of the repeating rune forms, he found another line written in the runes of cerebromancy, this time instructing the bearer’s mind to mimic mastery of calomancy. It was a pattern! He skimmed ahead and found similar sections mentioning mastery of pyromancy, then aeromancy. It kept going, but he thought he could see the pattern. The crown didn’t just bestow mastery of one harmonic. It bestowed mastery was all of them.

          So why did it clearly only work for lunamancy? That was the question. Caladin hunted the surface until he found the lines mentioning mastery of lunamancy. It was there, no different than any other. He sat back in his chair and laughed aloud. All this time, he’d been pretending to be an archmage when he’d been carrying around an artifact capable of bestowing mastery of every harmonic! There had to be some way to switch between them. Perhaps Belorian had just been using lunamancy at the moment of his death and the crown had gotten “stuck”. He returned to his study, looking for some kind of activation method. Anything. He found the answer inscribed along the top rim of the crown. There were a series of control phrases that could be spoken aloud while wearing the crown that would force it to shift from one harmonic to the next. He wrote them all down, then put on the crown to test it out.

          Hatred consumed Caladin. How dare those dwarves use stolen secrets to threaten him! He would destroy their toy and teach them a lesson. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and spoke the command for switching to cryomancy. “Dolor fio!”

          It all felt so pointless. Caladin just wanted to give up and be done with everything. So many of his family had died already. He wanted to keep them safe, but now they were in the middle of a war. He couldn’t bear to lose anyone else. Like his father or—

          With an effort of will, Caladin forced himself to stop ruminating. He tried using some ice magic and it came to him as naturally as breathing. He created a crystal of ice as clear as glass and with all the facets of a cut diamond. It floated in the air above his hand, then spun in circles at his command. He tried another command, this time for ferromancy. That might give him some insight into how this golem worked. “Pertinax fio,” he intoned.

          His thoughts changed. Rather than sorrow holding him in its grip, Caladin was struck with a burst of determination. He could do this! He wouldn’t give up! Even if he had to rip that golem apart with his bare hands, he wouldn’t let it destroy everything he’d built. He searched his mind for a solution to the adamantium problem, but nothing came to him. He knew how to shape metal, move it, even destroy it, but nothing about adamantium specifically. It occurred to him that the solution to his problem might not be solvable with only a single harmonic. Why couldn’t the crown grant him mastery of more than one at a time? There was only one way to find out.

          “Dolor, pertinax fio,” Caladin intoned. He spoke the words for both cryomancy and ferromancy in the same phrase. He felt the weight of all those who he had lost, but instead of wanting to give up, this time he wanted to fight for them even harder. He tested his new magic and conjured a shard of ice as strong as steel. He threw it into the wall next to him and it embedded itself into the stone. He smiled.

          Why stop at two harmonics?

          A soldier opened the door to the king’s study. He was in full battle regalia. “Is everything alright in here, Mr. Caladin? I heard a noise.”

          Caladin waved him away, barely able to keep the smile from his face despite the depressive mood trying to compel him to think in a certain way. “Everything is fine,” Caladin assured him. “I may have stumbled onto a solution to the problem outside our walls.”

          “You did?” the soldier asked excitedly. “I’ll fetch the king right away!”

          “No, wait—” Caladin cut himself off. The soldier was already gone. Oh well. Caladin already knew what he wanted to try next. He read over the activation phrases he’d written down and worked his way through them in sequential order. He turned it into a chant and began speaking the activation word for every harmonic at the same time. “Dolor, lacesso, furor, gaudium, taedium, rectus, asper, amor, paenitere, quies, perditus, mirum, pondus, paenitet, fidens, avidus, curiosa, iniuria, defigo, confund, neclegens, odium, timor, anxitudo, commotus, pertinax, gratia, offensus, negatio, fio!”

          When Caladin finished the massive incantation, the world opened up to him. He understood… everything. Not just how to destroy adamantium, but some truths he’d yet been unwilling to face about his relationship with King Philipus. He looked up to see his king standing at the entrance to the study, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. “I heard you made some kind of breakthrough,” he said. “I… didn’t realize you needed incantations to cast spells. And that incantation... it was like nothing I have heard before.”

          “I don’t need incantations,” Caladin answered. “I don’t need anything.” He felt a burning sensation deep in his skull. A trickle of blood escaped from his nose. He wiped it away. With his newfound knowledge, he understood exactly what was happening. The crown… was killing him.

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