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026 - The Peak of Spirit Magic
🕑 Added 2025-01-08 17:19:35 +0000 UTC“Do you even realize how much leeway I have already given you, yet you want even more? Your soldiers patrol my Academy like they own the place, and both the faculty and the students alike are becoming uneasy. This has to stop," said a small woman seated at a large desk at the back of a luxurious room. She had an unobstructed view of the whole Academy and most of the capital through a floor-to-ceiling pane of glass taking up most of the wall.
Both of her elbows rested on the desk as she supported her head with the back of her hands. Her eyes were calm and peaceful, showing no fear as she stared at her counterpart. Despite the strength of her words, her voice hadn't risen in the slightest, remaining just as demure as always.
Many streaks of light grey ran along her hair, showing the woman's age, and yet, her skin showed an uncanny suppleness, a dichotomy one couldn't help but find eerie. Still, she couldn't be more than in her late thirties, yet she possessed a heavy presence, uncanny for her age.
"It's no use complaining to me," Gloria replied as she sat on a soft sofa opposite the desk, a long and slender ornate pipe intertwined between her fingers. "Everything is just as the Archon wishes. I am merely an instrument of her will."
Out of respect, Gloria wore her usual military uniform, not her much preferred low-cut dresses. Even still, the first few buttons were unfastened, showing a deep cleavage. She felt unbothered by the stares it evoked in others. In fact, she relished the influence it induced. Many couldn't help but fall for her perfect proportions, enraptured by her charms, which she gleefully took advantage of.
Despite her provocative nature, her uniform remained modest, sporting no medals of her achievements nor depiction of her rank. It was the most basic uniform of the Archon's Guards yet was miles apart in quality from those issued to the Imperium's regular army. It was made to be durable and somewhat resistant to bladed weaponry; mana was infused within, aided by peculiar supporting spirits, yet it paled against her.
Even the most minute gesture was calculated to provoke a reaction in her opponent, especially the pipe in her hand. Every time her slender fingers brought the golden pipe to her mouth, one couldn’t help but be drawn to her red lips, wishing to know their taste. Even women weren’t immune to it.
However, it presently had no effect at all. The grey-haired woman looked upon Gloria impassively, observing her as if awaiting a better answer. In response, Gloria tilted her head slightly to the side, letting her long, slightly curled hair fall to one side, exposing her long neck and the sparkling white jewel dangling from her ear.
This, however, prompted a reaction from her counterpart. She frowned slightly, then sighed.
“Why must you nobles always flaunt your weakness?” she lamented, shaking her head as she closed her eyes, only to reopen them before adding, “Don’t you understand how detrimental it is for the common mages to emulate you? You possess much more influence than you realize. It makes them easier targets for our enemies.”
“That’s none of my concerns,” Gloria said bluntly. “Forgive my saying so, Dean, but any soldier weak enough to be killed because of such a minor thing deserves their fate. My army is no place for the weak.”
The Dean’s stare became heavy. Many emotions were held within, pressing Gloria like an avalanche, and yet, it also seemed to have barely changed. All of it was merely the surrounding mana reacting to the change, responding to a mere shift in temper.
Likewise, Gloria's expression didn't change in the slightest. Her slight smile remained the same despite the pressure now crashing down on her, but compared to standing in the mere presence of the Archon, this might as well have been but a slight breeze rustling through her clothes.
“Isn't it wasteful?" the Dean asked as she looked down to her desk. "We just lost one more promising young man. Can the Empire afford to lose its future that way?"
Gloria shrugged, taking another deep puff of smoke from her pipe. She let the scented smoke roll around in her mouth before exhaling a thin plume of charred air through thinly pressed lips.
“Better to lose them now—when their loss can be accounted for—than when it truly matters," Gloria said plainly. "If he couldn't even survive this safe environment, how would he truly fare when our enemies are at our doors, and he is asked to lay down his life for the Imperium? Would his presence have made a difference? Personally, I don't think so. I wouldn't want to bet on such uncertainties. Only those scorched by the flames and survived through all odds have a place at my side."
She let the words linger, taking another breath of smoke. Meanwhile, the Dean raised her eyes, looking upon this poisonous flower, beautiful but deadly. She wondered how she might have been shaped to be this way. Was this a reflection of her natural temperament, or was the Archon responsible? She couldn't tell but knew that all the Archon's personal guards were made in her image.
As the Dean was deep in thought, Gloria finally added, "Besides, the Imperium's resources are limited. Better to know sooner rather than later if our future resources would be wasted on them."
“So, you agree with the Archon’s decree?” the Dean sighed. “You would see them fight on the front lines? You do realize none of them are actually soldiers. While they have been taught to fight, they are still merely students. You cannot expect them to become an army merely because of what the Archon wishes.”
“My thoughts on the matter are inconsequential,” Gloria replied calmly. “The Archon’s decree is all I need. If she wants those soon-to-be mages to fight on the front lines and prove themselves, then so it will be. I see no reason to object.”
"Such fanaticism!" the Dean said, slamming a fist onto the wooden desk. Her voice lost its peacefulness for the first time, propagating to every corner of the room, even making the walls vibrate slightly. "The Archon is no God nor leader of a cult! She is human, just like the rest of us, and prone to making mistakes. How can you know this wouldn't result in one?"
“She has yet to be wrong," Gloria replied. "She alone supports this dying Empire. This is enough for me."
Despite the calmness of her voice, her earring shone brighter, propagating its light throughout the confined room, somehow pushing back against the pressure wave originating from the Dean's body. Then, a halo of light appeared on her back, but on a closer look, it was no mere immaterial light but more like feathers.
Large feathers of light appeared behind her, bathing the room in their glow, fighting back against the sound wave of the Dean's voice. The two seemed to be in equilibrium, neither pushing their advantage. Yet, things couldn't be further from the truth. Despite Gloria's pride and bravado, she seemed to be on the losing end. She couldn't help but show a slight frown as she watched her light being ever so slightly pushed back.
But even more than that, what made her genuinely concerned was that she couldn't see any signs of the Dean's spirit. This was but the mere reaction of the surrounding mana to her surge of emotions, just a resonance from the Dean's own mana pool.
Gloria couldn't help but be stunned by how profound the Dean's mana reserves were. She had prided herself in being one of the more talented mages of her generation, yet she paled against this middle-aged woman. Even her own father—one of the famed Magister—would probably lose against this woman. Only the Archon towered over the Academy's Dean throughout the whole of the Imperium.
“Alright, alright,” the Dean said, sweeping her hand before her as if trying to sweep away smoke, calming herself.
The surge of mana soon calmed down, returning to its inert state, yet Gloria remained on edge—more precisely, her spirit. Despite the wealth of power it could tap into, the feathers of light remained permanent fixtures on her back, bathing the world in their glow. Gloria could feel her spirit's heightened emotional state through their contract, prompting her own emotions to fluctuate wildly.
While she was in control within this plane, spirit and contractor were inexorably intertwined, never to be parted but through one's demise. They shared many things, their state of mind being one of them.
As spirits were but new-born constructs within this world, they strongly took after their contractors, sharing the same temperament. This made the two much closer in almost every aspect, literal soul mates. While some chose to deny it, only one who truly respected this connection could breach the limits of spirit magic, but this connection also came with some risks.
“Calm yourself. It’s alright. I’m here with you,” Gloria muttered, only for the light to slowly recede.
Gloria could feel movements from beyond the door but paid it no mind. It was no wonder that mere walls couldn't stop the influx of mana from spreading. They had no doubts caused a commotion, but neither Gloria nor the Dean took much interest. Both were too busy observing each other, trying to gain the upper hand. That was until the Dean leaned back on her chair and broke the silence.
“This is pointless,” she said, more to herself than to Gloria. “Look at me arguing with a child. This isn’t like me.”
She shook her head and showed a helpless smile. Gloria couldn't help but frown at her words, yet let them go. After all, she couldn't deny that she may as well be a child compared to the woman before her when it came to spirit magic. Still, her will to battle couldn't be broken that easily. In fact, it only grew stronger. She wished to know how far she could go against such an opponent, yet only the task at hand stopped her from doing so—the task entrusted to her by the Archon. Still, such slight nuances didn’t escape the Dean’s vision. She offered Gloria a smile, this time a genuine one.
“I don't disagree with the Archon's wishes," the Dean said slowly. "If such drastic measures could forge them into mages even remotely resembling you, then it can only be a boon to the Imperium. However, neither the Archon nor I can mobilize so many mages without the Emperor's express order. I trust that will not be an issue?"
“Not at all,” Gloria said, taking another slight sip of smoke, desperately trying not to show her fingers shaking. “As we speak, her Ladyship’s messenger should be returning with the good news.”
“A human messenger?" the Dean exclaimed. "I'm surprised she didn't just send one of her spirits."
“She didn’t wish to take the chance as she knew you would oppose such measures. Besides, as you said, sending so many adepts to the front line is a drastic measure. The legitimacy of such an order must be without fault.”
Gloria offered her a smile, yet the Dean's expression remained neutral, showing neither joy nor frustration. Despite it all, Gloria knew she had won this round. The Archon had guessed correctly that the Dean would refuse such an order unless it came straight from the Emperor's messenger, bearing the seal of the Imperium.
“The sealed order should arrive shortly,” Gloria said as she rose from her seat, looking slightly smug. “If we have nothing else to discuss, I will now take my leave.”
Just as she turned and stepped toward the door, the Dean's voice stopped her. Just as she felt smug about her victory, it deflated instantly with a mere few words from her.
“A moment, my dear," she said calmly. "We still need to discuss the issue of your brother."
