92. Embrace III (Patreon)

“What’s this?” A non-corporeal voice asked. It was Monica's. “It feels off, like if I’m swimming in impossibly dense fog as if I a cumulus of clouds trapped me in their embrace.”

“I didn’t know you were a poet.” I could feel Monica rolling her eyes even if we weren’t in our physical bodies right now. “Anyways, what you feel is my soul. You shouldn’t actually feel anything, as I’m only relaying my senses with my soul as a proxy. Alas, my soul is so dense that’s even affecting yours through our weak link.”

“Edrie!” Monica raised her voice, demanding my attention and presenting her outrage.

“It’s nothing, relax.” I soothed, both with my words and with Mystic’s Dominion. “This sensation you are feeling is just like breathing in a place with a lot of oxygen. It won’t be lethal, it’s just disorienting to your body, or in this case soul, as it isn’t used to.”

I could feel Monica’s soul grunt. We currently shared my sight, and she was only here in name, so what I was feeling was her soul back on Ferilyn. My soul was stretched between the capital of the Houtz imperium and the heart of Ferilyn, allowing me to register both places at the same time. No longer fractured, just expanded.

“Open your eyes,” I told her. Then she raised her eyelids. “I meant the ones in your soul.”

“And how was I supposed to know that? You just said to open my eyes!”

“Well, what you need to look at isn’t in the laboratory.” Being inside my soul was irritating her, maybe she shouldn’t spend much more time here. “Close your eyes and think about seeing. Nothing more. Only think of our connection and how you should be able to see more.”

Monica began toying with her soul, trying to tap into the connection I had made.

“I... I think I got it.” Then she opened her soul-eyes. “Oh.” She gasped as a new sense was opened to her. “I can see everywhere, all degrees, it’s as if I have eyes everywhere. And... I feel dizzy...”

My body jumped into motion as I captured her physical body from falling to the ground. Even if she wasn’t projecting her consciousness as I had to do with Astral Self, it still took a lot of concentration to see through my soul.

“I fear my mystic senses have been too much for you,” I told with my real voice on the physical plane as I held her body. “You’ve been overwhelmed by the input of new information.”

“I’m fine,” Monica replied from the spiritual plane, unable to easily change to her body. “I already got it.” Oblivious to the effect on her physical self.

“If you say so.” I shrugged both physically and spiritually. “Tell me then, what is the material the sphere before us is made of.” I looked at the capacitor-phylactery.

The alchemist tapped into my sight, and whilst she was able to see in three-sixty degrees with my Soul Sight, I focused on the phylactery to lessen her mental strain.

“Edrie.” Monica’s voice was loaded with unnatural calm. “What’s that?”

I could feel her point at the floating orb even if she had no body to speak of. She wasn’t surprised by the mana or properties of the phylactery. She was unable to interpret the flows of mana and soul through my senses.

To my knowledge, she could only see a floating black sphere. The material the sphere was made out of impacted her that much.

“That’s why I brought you,” I replied in body and spirit. “Tell me, what is made of? I have never seen a material like this.”

That was a lie. The armor of Caius, the Emperor’s Right Hand, was made out of the same material. I still didn’t know what it was though.

“That’s Deep Ebony,” Monica responded.

“Ebony?” I frowned, even though she couldn’t see my body. “I fear the artifact is made out of metal, not wood.”

“Deep Ebony, Edrie.” She reiterated. “Have you never heard of it?”

“Not a chance.” I denied. “So, what’s this Deep Ebony?”

“Deep Ebony is a metal of legends, how haven’t you heard of it?” Monica now seemed furious I was unacquainted with the apparently mythical material.

“Because I prefer facts rather than stories?” I sighed. “You are the expert here, so shower me with your expertise.”

Monica followed my example and sighed. Though in her case she didn’t literally exhalate her soul as I typically did. She didn’t have an excess to loiter around with.

“For starters, it’s called Deep Ebony because it has a darker shade of black than ebony wood. It doesn’t have anything to do with the wood besides that.”

I got that much. Deep Ebony was really, really dark. It seemed to absorb light, as if it was a miniature black hole, appearing two-dimensional as light didn’t bounce to highlight its surface. Something in the back of my mind told me it was just because of its index of light absorption, whispering terms like ‘Vantablack’ or something.

“Deep Ebony is considered a ‘mage-killer’ material, as it has a mana absorbing capacity even higher than that to lead.” Monica continued. “It’s also far denser. I don’t have exact numbers because as I told you before, it’s mostly thought to be a legend. But according to some poetry, it should be twice as dense as lead.”

Twice as dense as lead? I tried skimming through my long-past memories, but I got no results. Either I didn’t have that knowledge, or it was too niche to even remember it. I mean, I didn’t even know the density of lead in my current life.

Why was I even asking that to myself? I had a nerdy encyclopedia beside me.

“How dense is lead?” I asked Monica.

“Hmm, I don’t have exact numbers on my head currently,” I heard her humming deep in thought, “but if I should say one, it would be eleven-thousand three-hundred kilograms per cubic meter.”

“That’s pretty exact.” I joked. But then shifted to a more serious tone. “So that means that Deep Ebony is around twenty-two-thousand six-hundred kilograms per cubic meter. What does that density even mean?”

“Well, it means it’s twenty-two-point-six times denser than water.” She explained. “Or around ten times as dense as concrete, for a more solid image.”

“Wait, if Deep Ebony is this dense, then the ball should weigh...” I made some fast mental calculations. “Three-hundred and twenty kilograms...”

I was speechless.

I had never had the artifact on my hands as it constantly levitated. But what truly deprived me of my words was how Caius wore a full plate armor of Deep Ebony. How much in the name of the Lady of the River had to weigh that armor? Tons? And how in the river was he able to wear it without showing any strain?

“By the way,” Monica commented, taking me out of my thoughts, “where are we?”

“You are better without knowing it.” I sincerely replied.

“Edrie.” Her tone was dead.

“You are not going to get any answers, Monica,” I replied. “I’m serious when I say that you are better staying blissfully unaware of the situation.”

I sensed her soul, trying to give me a deadly gaze, but she was unable to as was not currently on her body.

“Could you at least tell me where you got this much Deep Ebony?” I saw the hint of greed in her voice. Monica wanted some of the metal for her own use.

“One, I can’t tell you. Two, I don’t have any Deep Ebony to spare.” Chipping away parts of the artifact would destabilize the Phylactery Bonding spell.

“How did you know that?” The alchemist asked surprised. “Can you read my mind?”

“Only your feelings.” Her sentiment of offense overflowed. “It’s not my fault that you were lusting over a piece of metal.”

“I was not lusting!” Monica added with indignation. And a hint of lies. “And it isn’t a normal metal, it’s Deep Ebony!”

“Right, right.” As I dismissed her words, I undid my Astral Self and returned myself and her back to the laboratory.

“Woah, that’s trippy,” Monica said, tumbling around as she got back to her body. She looked at her hands, opening and closing them in a repeated manner, recovering her senses. “My body feels numb.”

“Well, it’s your first time having a literal out-of-body experience,” I explained. “And of all the members in our group, you are the least used to spiritual damage. This hasn’t hurt your soul in any shape or form, but maybe you’ll experience some body-soul dissonance and loss of equilibrium until tomorrow morning. Otherwise, you’re perfectly healthy.”

“Thanks for the diagnosis?” She replied with confusion. “By the way, what’s with the uniform?”

“Now you notice?” I added with theatrical indignation. Pompous and extravagant as I put a hand in my chest.

“You did barge into my laboratory and then took me out of my body. I did notice, but my brain was in other places.” Monica placed the slime vial in one of her tunic pockets. “But that uniform doesn’t look like the military’s standard uniform.”

“Oh, that’s right.” I looked at military clothing. The standard uniform was lavender, rather than teal. “It’s because I’m now part of the Vanguard Order, the one founded by the heroes of Wyrm’s Landing.”

“Wh-what? How?” Her confusion was visible, I didn’t need Mystic’s Dominion to see that. “Please don’t tell me you have told that to Adrian.”

“Really, that’s what bothers you?”

“You don’t understand.” The dynamimancer said, exasperation in her voice. “He’s obsessed with the Ceaseless Storm, if you have told him, he won’t stop pestering you about it and he won’t stop mentioning it to me when you are nearby.”

“Then you can rest assured, the topic didn’t arise, so he doesn’t about it.”

“Thank the High Arcanist.” Monica sighed heavily in relief. Then she took out some keys out of her tunic. “Now, please go out, I need to close the lab for the day and return the keys to Miss Evion.”

Evion had been our alchemy teacher during the first years of the academy, an elderly woman around the third century of age. I hadn’t been close to the woman, but Monica kept her connection to our former teacher thanks to her interests.

“See you soon, Edrie.”

“You too, Monica,” I added with a nod.

We parted ways and I went back to the healing ward to check on Alatea and Marissa.