18. LESSON START
Before she was to have her first lesson with Helghast, a long white box was delivered to Violet's door. This time she was fast enough to thank the servant, who was half-turned away after knocking. He merely nodded before continuing off. Maybe Helghast didn't like the help talking to him? Violet shrugged off the thought and ducked down, carrying the light box to her desk.
Inside was a dress. Her initial reaction was to frown, then she felt over the lace and chiffon ruffles. Violet picked it up with both hands and stared.
She didn't like it, but she could understand where Helghast's thoughts had been. It did look similar to the attire worn during fancy ball parties at Lan'Tim, with enough practicality woven in to resemble a mage's robes too. The colour was a purple similar to her name, and also the electromancy she'd be learning. So it was perhaps appropriate, Violet thought while turning it over. She wasn't opposed to dresses when the occasion called for one, but she preferred practical wear.
Inside the door to her wardrobe was a full-length mirror and she held the dress at her shoulders. Then she started to get changed.
The most uncomfortable thing about the dress was that Violet now constituted a doll trapped in a dollhouse. Helghast was literally choosing her clothes, making her fit his vision. She turned in the mirror, fussing with the hanging bits of material at her waist. It was good to have something else to wear, so she ought to appreciate that. Wearing this almost obligated her to do something special with her hair, but Violet wasn't going to. She'd settle for wearing it out.
Not long after she'd changed there was another knock at her door and Violet jumped to wrench it open, though her haste was unnecessary. A testificate servant stood waiting for her.
"If you'll come this way Miss, Master Helghast has summoned you."
"Of course, and I've stacked the books I won't be needing. I've made my choice."
"Suppose I'll return them to his library after I escort you."
Violet stepped aside and he went to her desk to grab them. She noticed he spoke regular English. They walked off together.
"I'm Violet Merridew, from the world Arcacia. I was a cultural researcher for testificate villagers in the wilds." As she spoke he tilted his head, but seemed to understand. "What's your name?"
"I'm Eadie. Pleased to meet you."
"Pleasure's mine," they were walking to the stairs and Violet felt rushed to cover as much ground as possible with Eadie, now she'd found someone else to talk to. "How did you come to work for Helghast, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Well, four years ago my village was dissolved, you could say, along with many others in the region. We were all relocated to a factory for manual labour. The workers there must've numbered in the thousands."
"That's terrible."
"Many were unhappy, but I didn't mind it so much. Three years ago I was chosen for my work ethic and overall attitude, so I was moved into the castle and have worked here ever since."
"You must miss your fellows."
"Suppose I do. But it's much nicer working here than in the factory."
They were turning down the stairs. Violet was caught in her thoughts until they got off at a lower level.
"So what were your people making in the factory?"
"Loads of stuff: machinery, transports, we put together parts for these big golems with claws for carrying stuff in the mines. And they were quite high-tech, with scanners. There were airships too."
"Mods… suppose I shouldn't be surprised. But how exactly does Helghast build himself an empire and stay hidden for so long with so many worlds looking for him?"
"Master Helghast is a brilliant man. I suppose he's careful about it. Right, here you are."
"Thanks, Eadie."
He returned her smile before turning away with the books, his next stop the library. Violet walked through the archway into a square room, obsidian and patterned the same as everywhere else: harsh, geometric lines like shards of glass. The sparsity reminded her of cave rooms she'd practise her sword-fighting in. Helghast was facing what she recognised as an enchanting table, a diamond-cornered obsidian block upon which levitated an open spellbook. The pages fluttered while symbols leaked out, flowing into the three bookcases that bordered it. He looked over at her, hands behind his back.
"I have a business dinner with some associates, and then I'll be away tomorrow, possibly the day after as well. But we'll see how much you can learn." At that Violet nodded and approached. "Do you like the dress? I think that shade goes lovely with your hair."
"Yes," Violet lied as she came to a stop. He gave a wry smile to show he could tell she was lying. He had to be very observant.
Helghast faced her fully, "Which discipline did you choose?"
"Electromancy."
"And how far did you get with it?"
"I read most of the book then fell asleep," she admitted.
Helghast raised an arm and purple electricity twittered to life, zipping from his elbow all along his forearm, mostly concentrated in the palm of his hand. He turned to the far wall and extended his arm, a bolt of purple shot out and left a darker stain on the rock. Violet stared, impressed.
"After you have mastered control over the flow of your lifeforce, you must focus it to the emission points of your hand. Then you create a negative charge, either by pulling from the space around you, or before you fire: from the intended target. Releasing the electricity is the easy part, identical to releasing an arrow from a bow. It's the tension before the release which determines the strength of your attack."
Violet raised her hand. She focused and could immediately sense the lifeforce he was referring to, an abundance of it all throughout her body. Stagnant, evidently it'd been ignored for her whole life. It was strange to feel it permeating her, there was a reluctance as she willed some of it to her hand. She turned her wrist, and sparks were now dancing between her fingers.
She knew how electricity worked: It was a scientific principle of balance, like temperature or acidity. The flow of electrons could create a positive and negative charge. By pulling electrons to her hand she was leaving a space by the far wall with a positive charge. It was like releasing an arrow, exactly as Helghast said, by undoing the magic at her hand the electrons zipped back. A weak line of purple connected from her hand to the wall, looking rather harmless.
"Try it again," Helghast ordered.
Violet repeated the practice a few more times, and she always managed to make lightning race out. It was pretty though ineffective, like the inside of a plasma ball in a science fair. It seemed to Violet like a wonderful result for her first lesson, but Helghast looked like he wanted more.
He walked into her line of sight, "That is impressive control for the tiny amount of lifeforce you're directing to your hand."
"What do you mean?"
"You seem to be struggling with the simplest aspect of this exercise and I'm not sure why."
Violet scowled, feeling suddenly defensive. He reached out and pressed both his thumbs against her temples. She became uncomfortable as his eyes bored into hers.
He spoke after what seemed like a long moment, "I don't believe it's a magical block, or a problem with how you're doing the technique. Your issue with magic is purely psychological."
"Excuse me?" She brushed his arms away and took a step back.
"You are internally resisting magic training. If you don't overcome that on your own, there's nothing I'll be able to teach you. Our lesson is over."
They'd barely started, but Violet's mouth snapped shut and she made herself nod. She turned and left, stopping by the archway to thank him and then continuing off.
How depressing. Violet may have gone a bit crazy with the illagers, though in a place like this she could calm down a lot. It was a building and not a cave, after all. She no longer prowled like she used to, hyperalert to anything that could pop out at her from the corner of her eye. She was still more aware than she'd been before arriving at Enim. But what made her despondent was that Helghast wasn't referring to any insanity she picked up recently, he was referring to psychological issues Violet had carried her whole life.
She'd always had an aversion to magic, and she'd be reticent when unpacking that with a qualified therapist, let alone to sit and figure it out by herself. But apparently emotions shared a nexus with magical ability, and Helghast was convinced her only obstacle to learning was entirely psychological. She'd decided she wanted to attain power, so what else could she do?
Entertaining the thought that she might be crazy was awful for one who valued structure. Digging inward and going back to her childhood was bound to be a messy experience. She was already frowning deeply with disgust, trailing along in the direction Eadie had gone and hoping to find the library.
Eventually to her left she saw frosted windows and beyond them were bookshelves, so she doubled back and pushed lightly on double doors. They opened with nary a creak and Violet looked around. There were torches halfway up to the cathedral-looking ceiling, and a fireplace at the end of the room. Its light was licking the underside of the sectioned domes. Violet walked between the bookcases, smelling old leather and pages. A shiver went down her spine inexplicably. It was spooky in here for some reason, probably a lot of the books were about blood magic and other ghastly practices. Upon seeing a leather armchair that looked to be out of sight she went to it and sat down.
Well then, onto unpacking…
Violet frowned deeper and subconsciously sank into the chair. She was resisting magic at a psychological level. But magic wasn't really a bad thing, was it? It was like money, or power in general. Something that could be used for good or bad. Only superstitious or religious folk would say otherwise. It's true that power corrupts, but claiming that to be the reason would be a falsity. So Violet's problem had to be what she was associating magic with, and that was easy enough to figure out. When she thought of magic she thought of her mother, who was such a renowned figure in Lan'Tim because of her magical prowess. If Selador Merridew had not had the power to be a mage, would she have still found her way to Lan'Tim, or would Violet have lived a very different life growing up in a poor orphanage, or say a poor household with a single parent that didn't want her?
This unhappy line of thinking was already pulling her into a series of dark daydreams. She supposed she also knew why she was doing this: imagining the two of them living in increasingly different scenarios. Trying to give her mind some angle where it could create a happy scenario that was convincing. A futile exercise if ever there was one. Violet worked to pull herself back. She'd sagged quite a bit so righted herself in the chair, then tried to be objective again.
Some people who had a difficult relationship with their parent attempted to earn their love by spending their whole life trying to please them. If Violet had been different, might she have thrown herself into magical studies to earn her mother's love? It wouldn't have worked, but maybe she could have at least trained hard enough to surpass her one day. That thought made Violet scoff dryly.
When she was a teenaged student, there were kids in her classes whose mothers had lived far away, and they communicated by letters and yet had a closer relationship than Violet could've dreamed. They knew things about each other like hobbies, favourite foods, even sharing details about their day-to-day lives. Violet had heard the phrase 'there's no greater love than a mother's love', and so she kept looking for signs in the silence. Maybe there was some proof she just had to identify, so she started examining her mother's behaviour with a mental magnifying glass. But no. Mothers, like women, like anyone, came in different forms. Some people were meant to be doctors or artists and some people just weren't meant to be mothers. A shame that had been the case with Violet's own mother.
If she thought on it deeply… Violet could remember early memories of sitting on the floor with toys, and her mother a few paces away in a chair, reading or otherwise engaged. Her mother had never yelled at her, and somehow that was worse. There was just a distinct lack of connection, and Violet couldn't tell whose fault it was. She supposed that once she could sense her mother's aversion, she too became averse and tried to put the same distance between them. She'd quickly stopped asking for her mother, because the rejection hurt too badly, and instead distanced herself from everything she stood for. The woman had been Violet's only parent, well, what could be said about that?
They were already naturally different in some ways. Selador was a charmer, a schmoozer, with an impulsive kind of creativity, a thinking-outside-the-box which led to her moments of genius. Violet was pragmatic, sensible, and liked to do things by-the-book. Both of them were intelligent, but in contrasting ways. Violet liked that they were different people, and she supposed she liked it so much that she distanced herself from everything that had to do with her mother. She tried to imagine them both as polar opposites in all ways, to soften the blow of her internal wound. No wonder she was psychologically rejecting magic.
Violet pressed a hand to her chest, feeling discomfort but making herself push through.
If she wanted to open herself up to magic, she needed to stop thinking of it as something tied to her mother. Magic was not one of the reliable sciences, that was true, but it could still be learned. Mages were just people, and they also came in a variety of different personalities. Violet tried to let that understanding seep and spread throughout her body, dissolving her resistance and finally allowing herself to open up to it. She closed her eyes and tried to become more familiar with the lifeforce she could sense, try to make it ebb and flow, and come alive….
For a while she just enjoyed the peaceful sensation, and then with her eyes still closed she turned her attention outwards. There were other lifeforces, much weaker than hers, but moving about the castle. Violet's brow furrowed and she focused more. There were clouds of magic in many locations, different in texture and colour. She moved her awareness through the building until she found Helghast, three floors beneath her. When she first focussed on him her breath escaped her, in the next moment she recovered her trance and returned to breathing deeply. His lifeforce surrounded him like a candle, and a sense of power stretched even further than that, almost taking up the whole room. It was that same purple, but the more she focussed she could detect other colours in it as well.
When Violet finished examining him she continued to mentally explore the castle. She couldn't see the corridors or doorways very well, and virtually none of the inanimate objects. All she could really see were the lights of living energy and how they sometimes played off their surroundings. When she focussed on them she could detect more-
A door closing made her jump and open her eyes. A servant's footsteps shuffled to the first bookshelf, Violet chanced a peek and could see them feather dusting. Violet exhaled and stood.
She was feeling better after all that, and now accompanying her was the feel of a watery pool of magic saturating her body. It was a part of herself she'd formerly denied. Violet supposed that as icky as looking inward had been, in the end it was worth it. It probably fit with some maxim about wellness. Quietly she made her way to the exit and slipped out into the corridor. She continued along and absently turned her wrist, a flash of purple leapt out and smashed a vase across the way.
Violet stopped, supposing she should feel bad instead of excited. She hurried along before a servant could see it, also hoping she'd not just released a curse of some kind.
When she made her way back to her room she finished reading the electromancy book and then left again. This time she was looking for a guard or servant and walked around until she found one.
"Excuse me," Violet approached a maid who'd been cleaning a bust - probably also cursed. "Helghast is teaching me electromancy magic, are there any empty rooms I can practise in where I won't destroy anything?"
She was surprised but quick to apportion blame: "Are you the one who destroyed the vase downstairs?"
"Uh…" she didn't know what to say.
"Follow me," the maid sighed and started to lead her.
She was too embarrassed to ask for the maid's name or her story after that. Instead Violet followed her quietly to a balcony. The door hinges gave a mild, pleasant squeak as they were opened outwards into the breezy outside. The maid released the thin handles and stepped aside so Violet could drift out. The bannister was cut like a priceless sculpture itself, but if everything out there was really made of obsidian it ought to be hard to damage. It raised the question of how the palace was built in the first place, but it was probably by magical means. The maid turned away before Violet could thank her. She faced forward again and stepped to the edge, resting her hands on the rail. Below was the yawning ravine. A walking path below gave needed perspective on how deep it went, enough to make her dizzy. She could make out the rocky edges before they disappeared into blackness.
Violet looked out over the panorama of treetops, wind blowing loose strands of her hair. She could escape this way, if there was anywhere to escape to. She turned around and spied the summit of the donjon over the wall. She could try climbing down, hope to not fall, then hope to cross the bridge. The portal seemed to need Helghast's magic to power it, but staring over that way again, she supposed she could run past it to where the bridge connected to the ravine's lip. If she wanted to get away, she could escape into the forest. Then live out her days surviving on berries and escaping monsters. At least she could cut and zap them now.
No. Violet straightened her shoulders then walked back a few steps. This was going to be her life now, she'd already decided. With a turn of her wrist she focused on a space in the air, purple flashed a few metres out. Her electromancy was already looking significantly bolstered. Violet continued to practise, her lightning streaking out in webs and branches. A charge was filling the air and some stray hairs were lifting off her face. She tried to hit one of the trees over the ravine but they were much too far away.
She practised for a while until noticing her excess lifeforce was depleting. Good to get a feel for how much power she could actually expend. But even if she was done training with magic, she didn't want to neglect sword fighting either. She peered in through the doorway before summoning her sword and reminding herself of swings and stances, her eyes stinging just a bit as she recalled that those who'd taught her these moves weren't alive anymore. She borrowed the determination she'd had on Enim, and the space of the balcony was enough room for her to train against imaginary foes for a while.
On her way back she found dinner outside her room and it'd mostly gone cold. Beside it were more books on electromancy, so that lifted her spirits. Violet carried them in and ate while she read. A lightning bolt was the most generically useful but also basic skill in an electromancer's arsenal. Violet read about other skills that were much too advanced for her: a lightning circle, trapping net and even a condensed disintegration ray. These books were written by esteemed electromancers in the field, and she could tell by the unfamiliar jargon that a more serious understanding was needed before one could attempt the higher moves. She also inferred that unlike other elemental disciplines, this was a lot less common. She stayed up late reading again before falling asleep. When Helghast next decided to give her the time of day, she intended to wow him with a fully-formed lightning bolt.
Helghast was away from the castle for a few days and it almost felt like Violet was running the place. She wasn't actually running anything, but she had free reign to walk around and none of the guards or staff told her she couldn't. They seemed more relaxed while their master was out, it made her think some unpleasant or terrifying rumours had been passed around. Violet knew which rooms she wasn't allowed to enter because they were magically locked. When she was bored she sought out people to talk to, and the guards were surprisingly friendly, even leading her to the barracks where they played cards. It was one of several traits that dispelled their image as bona fide soldiers. They were mostly men, but there were women among them and they all wore mint or black armour, sometimes a mix.
"I take it Helghast is away from the castle a lot?" Violet asked, throwing down a two of spades.
"He's very busy," a woman guard replied. "He does a lot of work himself, I don't think he trusts other people to do it right."
The guard beside Violet was itching his beard, looking through his cards.
Violet asked, "What about… partnerships? Who's he trading with?"
"Helghast has all kinds of clients and customers," the man by the wall had a deep, resonant voice. "As for the details of what he's doing on other worlds and with who, he keeps that information close to his chest." At that the man beside Violet pulled his cards closer, before opting to draw a card instead.
"There must be some information passed down the grapevine," Violet studied their faces. "You guys must have heard something."
"I know the names of who he has those dinners with," a man on the right confessed. "Heard it from a kitchen worker."
"From that strawberry blonde you mean, Stevens?" The man with the messiest beard smirked.
"Shut it, Paul."
Violet turned herself fully in his direction, careful not to knock the upturned barrel they were playing on with her knees. She waited and Stevens focused on his recollection.
"There's a Mr Sullivans overseeing production on an ice base. Some kind of ore that released energy over the years, and it got absorbed by the compact ice beneath the surface. That's only a rumour and all I heard about it! He's a waify guy but well-organised, or so I heard... Then there's a Mr Chandra and Ms Hart, who are investigating a rocky terrain in another world trying to find something of value there. Mr Chandra has a background in geology, and Ms Hart has experience in a disciplinary committee on some interdimensional prison, or so I heard. He's got a dark complexion, and she has a nose that could cut glass. Lastly is a Mr Phillipe who does horticulture studies in a forest camp, but don't quote me on that! Tall guy, always looks tired."
Some of the other soldiers were listening as well; so they'd not heard this either.
"That's four people," Violet began, "and from the sounds of it Mr Chandra and Ms Hart come from the same world. So there's still this one, and three others? Is Helghast managing all their operations himself?"
"I think so. He's very hands-on."
Violet was nudged. She didn't bother checking her hand and just drew a card.
"Is it true that in all his worlds, the workers are just testificates forced out of their villages and into slavery?"
"Yes," the woman playing answered, eyes on her cards.
"Well that's just awful."
Stevens shrugged, "Paganum exist on most worlds, they pop up more often than humans do. It might sound cruel, but in truth it's just efficient."
Paul chimed in, "Without anyone to enforce laws on a world, villagers make for easy slave labour. It's probably that way all over the multiverse."
Violet scowled where she sat.
"I'm out, boys!" The woman dropped a pair of cards and flashed her empty hands.
"Blast it, Lydia…" Paul complained.
Lydia cackled and scooped together the glass beads they were betting with.
"The one with the most at the end of the month gets a whole keg to themselves," the wall guy opposite her explained.
Violet looked between them, "And what about you guys, how'd you end up working for Helghast?"
"Well we weren't always looking this official," Paul rapped on his diamond cuirass. "We mostly started out as bandits, scavengers, ex-militaries."
"I came to the castle here from a base in a birch forest six months ago, near the factory where they're always building something big," Lydia explained. "Got just a month left before I'm sent back. We don't get much action here, I suppose Mister Helghast wants the guards here to swap out before they get too rusty."
"We're just a precaution, if nothing else." Stevens gathered the deck of cards and knocked them together against the barrel.
Their transitory stationings likely meant they had info on the other worlds.
"I heard of his factory from someone who used to work there," Violet started. "It sounds like his primary operation?" Various faces nodded. "So who's all that stuff for? A few main clients or he's selling to just anybody?"
"I reckon, but don't quote me," Lydia leaned back and drummed her hand on the barrel twice, "I reckon he's supplying to some warlords, and politicians from other worlds too, inciting civil wars and toppling governments."
"All for money," Violet commented with disgust.
"And influence, and power. That's just the kind of man Helghast is," Paul added.
Violet considered for a few seconds, "After meeting him I got the feeling he was born into money."
"I think so too. It fits with the entitlement, and stepping on those beneath you," Stevens was awarded a cautionary shushing from Lydia. He rolled his eyes but shut up, turning to face Violet. "So what about you? You're not like us, so what's your story?"
"Well…" Violet stretched her neck and back muscles, "You'd better buckle up for this."
。。。
【AN: Almost thought I wouldn't finish this today, but I'm still on track!】