(TPOR) Chapter 122: Aptly Put (Patreon)

Oliver stared at Zed, flabbergasted.

“You see, Ollie,” Zed explained cheerfully, “to get the level of trust you’re asking from me, it would require a lot. You’ll need to wine and dine me. Show me you care. Take care of my expenses. In summary, no. I don’t trust you that much, Ollie.”

Daniel chuckled. “You have a smart friend.”

Oliver turned a scowl on him but said nothing.

“Alright,” Daniel continued, turning to Zed. “We think you might be a blood mage.”

“Are you sure you should be telling me that?” Zed asked, looking between Daniel and Oliver.

Daniel shrugged. “I don’t see any other way to make you comply.”

Zed looked at Daniel’s finger still in the blood and made a shooing gesture. Daniel looked at him with confused brows. Zed repeated the motion. Slowly, as if unsure, Daniel removed his hand from the container.

Zed nodded and slipped his finger into the container. His hand remained on [Titan’s Axe]. The boost of energy it filled with him was a form of assurance to him. Fifteen points to an aptitude wasn’t a joke. By his calculation that was three evolutions. If he was to judge general evolutions by the same standard it would make Daniel’s strength in that category as well. If the Olympian was not at catgory three, then he could argue that he was stronger with [Titan’s Axe] in his hand.

“Alright,” he said, “let’s get it on with.”

The blood was cold, squiggly, too. Zed wasn’t a fan of it. In summary, it was uncomfortable. He found himself hoping it wouldn’t affect his skill [Bloodwrath]. Thinking about the skill made him wonder just how many points he had left in the skill.

“Now I’m going to ask a few questions and all you have to do is answer,” Daniel said.

Zed nodded. “That sounds easy enough.”

“Good. How old are you?”

“The second awakening happened five years ago so…” Zed trailed off in thought. “Twenty-one.”

Daniel looked to Oliver for confirmation. Oliver shrugged. Daniel shook his head at the response, looked at the blood with Zed’s finger in it before turning back to Zed.

“Where were you born?” he asked Zed.

Zed shrugged. “No idea.”

Daniel paused, stumped. “How don’t you know where you were born?”

Zed watched Daniel’s eyes sneak a peak at the container of blood.

“Sorry,” he said, twirling his finger in the blood. He was getting accustomed to the feeling. “Just out of curiosity, is this supposed to do something? Maybe turn into a blood monster or suck my blood?”

Daniel shook his head. “It’s not,” he answered. “Actually, it’s supposed to react to your answers.”

“I take it that’s if I’m a blood mage.”

“If you’re a blood mage,” Daniel confirmed.

“On to the next one?”

“Yes. Who killed Abed Hafeez?”

Zed’s brows shot up in surprise. Daniel’s attention shot to the blood. He found it unchanged.

“What’s wrong?” Oliver asked Zed.

Zed turned to him, surprise still on his face, eyebrows raised. “Huh?”

“You look very surprised.”

“Oh,” Zed shook his surprise. “No, it’s nothing. I just…” he frowned. “I never heard Abed’s last name but I know it.”

Zed knew his notifications were capable of a lot but he had no idea it could present information to that level. Yes, the notifications always knew the names of the animals he fought and killed, and somehow set up quests for him with knowledge he didn’t initially have, but he had always had justifications for it. For instance, it never told him to kill a specific amount of a specific type of monster so he assumed it merely knew that the monsters around him were more than that number. In the earlier days it had somehow given him rewards as if predicting the future and he’d never had an answer for that but it had been easy to overlook; to merely accept.

But knowing a person? He pondered. The notification knew Abed down to his last name. How?

“Did you kill Abed Hafeez?” Daniel repeated.

Zed’s gaze focused on him now.

“What are the possible outcomes of my answer?” he asked.

“None. Yes or no does not matter. The questions are merely a means to an end.”

Zed nodded.

“Your response has to be verbal,” Daniel told him.

“Yes,” Zed said. “I killed Abed.”

“How?”

Zed said nothing. Instead, he looked at the Olympian. The man didn’t look surprised or bothered. It was as if he already knew Zed had killed Abed. Zed had thought this was what the questions had been leading up to the moment they had been asked. Maybe he’s more interested in the how.

“I have an… attribute,” Zed said slowly. “It makes me hard to kill.”

“He also has an attribute that makes it hard for him to fall,” Oliver added.

Zed frowned at the memories that came with Oliver’s words.

“I will advise against trying to confirm it,” he said. “I’ve taken more than enough falls from people trying to confirm it.”

Daniel cocked a brow. “What kind of fool tries to confirm an attribute that helps someone stay balanced by making them fall down?”

Zed couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his lips. “You’d be surprised by how many fools I know.”

“Can we carry on with this,” Oliver muttered, abashed.

“We could,” Daniel said. “But I’m not entirely sure what comes next. I’m usually not the one in charge of these tests. Usually, our captain gets it done. I just know he asks questions while the person being questioned is in contact with blood mana.”

“Wait!” Zed said, his voice a little too loud. “Blood mana? I thought this was just blood.”

Daniel shook his head. “If you concentrate a high enough level of blood and beat it down with enough spellforms it eats away at the unneccesary blood until you’re left with nothing but blood mana.”

Zed slipped his hand from the container very slowly, eyeing its contents as if it was a dangerous animal.

“You know,” he muttered. “None of you are really helping me build trust.”

“You’ve never really had trust issues before,” Oliver pointed out.

“Well I do now.” Zed turned to Daniel. “Also, if the captain, Ven, I think his name was, is the one that’s good at this, shouldn’t he be the one here? I’d think the way you’ve been eyeing me would say the blood mage thing is really important to find out.”

Daniel’s lips pressed into a thin line and Zed leaned towards Oliver in a conspiratorial manner.

“I think I might be missing something,” he whispered. “Did the Olympians have a falling out?”

“Ven’s dead, Zed,” Oliver said. “He died in the battle.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Zed turned to look at Daniel. All joviality and mischief was gone from his face. In a somber tone and with a solemn expression, he said, “Sorry for your loss. I didn’t know the man but I’m sure he meant much to you.”

Daniel nodded. The gesture was all he gave.

“Did we get what we went in there looking for?” Zed continued.

“No,” Daniel answered. “Big Man Desolate took it.”

“Freddy took it? I don’t follow.”

“Big Man Desolate stole it while we were preoccupied with the monsters,” Oliver explained.

“So there was a mana surge?”

“Yes.”

“And Freddy just stole the whole thing? Aren’t they supposed to be massive?”

“Yes, but this one wasn’t. I think the monsters we fought drained it somehow until what was left was too little.”

Zed nodded to himself. He decided to leave the assumptions the way they were. No good was going to come out of explaining the truth to them.

He looked at the blood mana and his now red finger. He wondered just how many points he would get in [Bloodwrath] if he absorbed this much concentrated blood mana. Without deigning to find out, he returned his attention to Daniel.

“Are we done here?” he asked.

Daniel nodded.

“Good. Now, I have a few questions of my own,” he said in a very low voice. “Starting with: where’s that rune crazy old man? I have no idea where I left his book of runes and he said he’d tear me a new one if I lost it.”

…………………………

Festus let out a deep sigh. “I guess he’s alright.”

He had been worried for a while, scared that Zed actually was a blood mage. He would’ve administered the test himself but he hadn’t been ready for the outcome. Also, he didn’t really know how it worked.

On the other side of the wall, Zed had removed his finger from the container of blood mana and was flailing his arms as he asked Daniel questions Festus was no longer interested in. He caught the beginning of Zed’s inquiry and couldn’t really bring himself to be bothered by it. Zed hadn’t misplaced his rune book; Festus had taken it from the back pocket of his pants when he had still been unconscious.

Now that he was fairly certain that he wasn’t training a blood mage in rune magic, he could finally concentrate on a different matter. He turned to the remaining people in the room with him.

Eitri stared at him with determined eyes. Ash looked worried for reasons Festus couldn’t bring himself to try and figure out. Chris’ face was set in a grim frown. Her eyes had never left Oliver since Zed had woken up.

“I still don’t trust him,” she muttered under her breath.

A simple glance at her was the only reaction Ash gave. Besides that, Ash remained nervous, like a skittish horse.

“So,” Festus began, his attention on Eitri, ignoring whatever Chris meant. “I still have my hands full with someone I’m teaching runes. I have dedicated much of my time to seeking out runes that will benefit him best so tell me why I should split that time.”

Eitri’s lips squeezed in a frown. Clearly the man had no answer to the question. Festus knew this as easily as he knew the sun was bright and the clouds were high. The short period of time he’d spent pretending to ignore Eitri’s pleas to be taught more runes and how to use them more efficiently had taught him something useful. Eitri, if anything, had a better appreciation for runes than most of the mages out here in the middle of nowhere.

In Eitri’s ramblings of persuasion he had mentioned at least two runes with effects Festus had never heard of. Each one had been a rune designed to play a part in the laws of space and dimensions. It impressed him because dimensional runes were still topics of investigation amongst rune mages with considerable interest in runes. They were also the rarest kinds of runes. There were rumors that time runes also existed, but Festus couldn’t bring himself to believe them. Regardless of what the world had become and the powers humans had gained, he found it unreasonable.

Moving from one point to another in the blink of an eye was one thing, time travel was another. There was still a part of him that believed that God could allow mortals fiddle with space but never with time.

Festus chucked that touch of religion to the back of his mind. In front of him Eitri remained quiet. Thinking.

Festus leaned against the wall behind him and folded his arms over his chest. Having awakened as an old man he was never going to look any younger. He would feel younger and stronger as time passed, though. Even now, he could do far more than any mage around him could. Awakening as an old man had given him a bit of a disadvantage in the beginning. He hadn’t been as strong as his peers or as fast. Time and progress, however, had changed that. Now he was equal to his peers. With his mastery of runes at his beck and call, he could argue that he was stronger.

“I’m waiting, kiddo,” he said.

“Well,” Eitri said, his voice shaky. “I listen well and I’m very good at obeying instructions. So you would not have to worry about shenanigans.”

Festus shrugged and thumbed behind him.

“He might not look it,” he said, referring to Zed, “but he listens very well and obeys instructions. He’s a bit of a hassle on the shenanigans part but I can’t say I mind. He’s still young so it should be forgivable.”

“I already have a foundation in rune magic,” Eitri said.

“The kid picks up runes faster than a cassanova goes through…” Festus let his words trail off. “You get the point.”

“It can’t possibly be that fast.”

Festus smirked. “You have a few runes you already know and use, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Do you have a place you write them down?”

“Not really.”

Festus’ brows furrowed. “You don’t have a grimoire?”

“Like dark magic?” Chris interrupted. “I thought that was only in stories. You’re telling me that rune mages have books of mystic arts that have their own powers?”

“No,” Festus answered blandly. “It’s nothing so trumped up. It’s just a book where they write their runes.” After that, he turned back to Eitri. “If you don’t have a grimoire, then where do you store your runes?”

“Uhhh…”

Festus’ eyes narrowed and his relaxed posture was forgotten. He stood straight while his arms remained folded in front of him.

“How many runes do you know?” he asked Eitri.

Eitri counted his fingers without any real pattern. As he did, his mouth moved in silent numbers. It took the space of perhaps five seconds before he answered.

“About thirteen. If I don’t count the three space runes because they’re kind of tricky.”

“And how many can you effectively cast under pressure?” Festus asked.

“Maybe eight.”

Festus stroked his chin in thought. As unimpressive as it might seem, it was actually an incredible feat. He had also seen Eitri’s use of spacial magic during their fight in the forest.

“Wait,” he said, after a moment. “How many of those are basic runes?”

Eitri smirked as though he had been waiting for the question.

“None,” he said. “I didn’t count any basic rune or compound rune.”

“So you’re only talking about intermediary runes,” Festus clarified.

“Yes.”

“And how long have you been gathering runes?”

“Since the second awakening.”

“Thirteen intermediary runes in five years,” Festus mused. “With a mastery in five.”

“Eight,” Eitri corrected. The smirk was yet to leave his lips. He was quite proud of his achievement, and rightly so. In the VHF he would hold a good position amongst the mages in the rune department.

“Eight intermediary runes,” Festus said, mostly to himself as he turned his attention back to the wall that gave him a clear view of Zed and his companions.

Zed had stopped flailing about and was staring at Daniel with an odd expression. Festus couldn’t call it serious but he also couldn’t call it jovial. He could pick out worry but not much else.

“The kid knows at least five basic runes,” Festus said to Eitri without turning to look at him. “He also knows linking sigils and at least one compound rune.”

“That doesn’t sound as impressive as you’ve been making the kid seem,” Eitri said, confused.

Festus nodded. “I know.”

“Then what’s the fuss? Just take me as your student. I clearly show more promise than the kid. Or are you considering the fact that he’s young?”

“Nope,” Festus answered with a smile. “I’m considering the fact that he’s only been learning runes for the past month.”

“That’s… impressive, no doubt,” Eitri conceded reluctantly.

“No,” Festus chuckled. “You don’t get it. He has mastered all of them already. He can cast them all under pressure, and he still has the time, determination and potential to learn many more.”

Festus turned his head to face Eitri, still smiling.

“He’s going to learn all my runes before I even know it,” he continued, his smile widening. “And that alone is the reason I’m going to teach you. I will not teach you my runes, but I will teach you how to learn new runes of your own.”

Eitri’s brows narrowed in suspicion. “And what’s the catch, old man?”

“The catch?” Festus asked. He returned his attention to watching Zed, silent. It was a while before he answered. “The catch is that when he’s done with all my runes, he’ll learn yours.”

Eitri grit his teeth, biting back on his instinctual disagreement. It was unreasonable to ask that much of him, runes were as precious as any spellform, perhaps even more precious. Once a person knows what runes a mage is capable of casting, half the battle has already been won. It was the reason mages kept their runes close to their chest, at least those whose powers were rune focused like Eitri’s. But Festus was teaching him something he could not afford not to learn. He had come to Festus asking for fishes and Festus had offered to teach him how to fish.

“If he really learns as fast as you’re saying,” Eitri said slowly, “then you won’t be making a rune mage if you do that. You’ll be making a monster.”

Festus nodded. “Aptly put, young mage. Aptly put.”