Amelia Thornheart

Chapter Sixty-One: Investigating The Shimmer

The workspace the academy prepared for them was a small room through an unassuming door on the lower floor, away from the main throughway. Once, Noburu thought it might have been a classroom, judging from the inset part of the wall where a large blackboard would have fitted. They were told it had been a nearly forgotten storage room for years until it was hastily tidied and cleaned pending their arrival. The assorted furniture and boxes were piled against one side, and a large table was set up in the remaining space for their work.

Hardly the most modern workshop.

A few armour sets stood on the table, propped up by their wooden stands. Lying alongside them were half a dozen swords and a few spearheads. Noburu and Seonmi pretended to expertly examine the artefacts while the staff member assigned to show them around watched with mild interest. The demon, a man named Takumi, who didn’t feel like much of a warrior, served as the academy's archivist.

“Mmm,” Noburu mumbled, peering through a magnifying glass at the dry, cracked leather.

“Ah…” Seonmi added as she examined the metal clasps.

They shook their heads, looked at each other, and then shook their heads again with an additional sigh. Their performance had the intended effect, earning them a face of worry from Takumi.

“That doesn’t sound good,” the archivist said with a frown.

“Could be worse,” Noburu said, straightening up. “We’re lucky this brigandine was kept in a box with a support structure. It also helps the leather is rannar rather than cattle. The former is far more resistant to deterioration. That said, we’re not starting with the best pair of dice; maintenance work should’ve started earlier.”

“How much earlier?”

Noburu glanced at the plaque at the base of the armour stand. Samino Brigandine. War of the Ten Houses. 520 A.V. “About three centuries ago,” he declared. “I can make the leather presentable, depending on how much I can interfere. I can clean it using dry methods and then use a humidifying chamber to bring some life back into it, but if you want it looking fresh, it’ll need treatment with conditioners.” He turned to Seonmi, making sure to use her false name. “How’s the metal, Yunseo?”

“Severe rusting on the internal plates,” Seonmi replied, gesturing towards the armour. “Some of the rivets are barely holding on. We can sandblast the larger pieces, but the rivets are unlikely to survive. We could use an acid bath, but that carries the risk of weakening the metal through hydrogen embrittlement. Hmm…” She placed a hand on her chin. “It would be best to replace them entirely. You mentioned that you have a large number of examples from the War of the Ten Houses?”

Seeing Takumi nod, Seonmi continued, “Then, as much as it pains me to cannibalise the past, if you want to keep things authentic, then we’d best salvage some stronger rivets from the old pieces that are beyond restoration. If we could get permission to open up more boxes and see what’s there, I think we’ll be able to find a proper replacement.”

“I… I can ask,” Takumi replied. “What about the weapons?”

Seonmi peered at the series of blades laid out on the table. “Typical amounts of corrosion. Varying levels of pitting. See here? We can clean it up, but without filler material, it will never look great.” She pointed towards the handle of one of the weapons. “See this grey? The silver decorations have tarnished. It’s not corrosive, but we’ll need to be careful polishing it. The goal will be to bring back the previous lustre without removing too much material.”n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Noboru could tell Seonmi was having fun in her role as Yunseo Yoo-jung, the metal specialist. She was a natural-born actress, and Noburu never understood why she didn’t use her charm and talents to join a travelling trope. She could get out of the slums, travel the Empire and explore. As far as he knew, she didn’t have any obligations like he did with Kiku and the kids. So, why didn’t she leave? Perhaps she was hiding from something or someone.

Either way, it wasn’t his business.

“How long will your work take?” Takumi asked.

“We’re contracted for the completion of these piece’s restoration, not for any deadline.” Seonmi looked upwards as if doing mental arithmetic. “We’ll likely spend a few working days just building a plan of attack. Once you start removing material, you can’t go back. Like a sculptor, we must be sure before we begin. Let’s say… two or three days for the preparation work and then two or three weeks for the actual work. It might be longer as we’ll need to bring in specialised equipment, as you’ve told us all work must be done on-site.” Seonmi’s voice took on a note of calculated annoyance. “I’m not accustomed to working while being guarded.”

When they’d arrived that morning, Noburu noticed the academy seemed to be in an unusual state of heightened security. There were far more patrols and standing guards than Yoshiro’s information had suggested. He didn’t miss how the students would glance at these guards with raised eyebrows while they whispered about the new changes. 

Not only that, but he saw a few men wearing the uniform of Old Guard investigators. They were striding around the grounds, taking notes and photographs with their large crystal-fuelled steam cameras. Their presence had caused a slight tinge of worry to form in Noburu’s stomach, which he quickly crushed down. They weren’t here for him or Seonmi. Something else had happened.

When they signed in to the academy's visitor book, they were told by Takumi that due to a recent incident, they would need to be accompanied at all times. They would even be led to and from the latrine should they desire to use it. Once they arrived at the workshop, a guard had been waiting at the doorway. Seonmi protested the situation, slowing making Takumi apologetic. After all, she was the talented Yunseo Yoo-Jung, the Fengra expert who had travelled all this way only to be treated like a common criminal!

Which she was, of course.

“It should only be temporary,” Takumi explained after Seonmi’s latest outburst. “In a few days, things should have calmed down.”

In a few days, we’ll be gone, Noburu thought.

“But please understand, this is a military institution and cannot have contractors walking about as they please,” Takumi added. “There’s a war on, and there’s always a risk of distrustful individuals…” As Takumi emphasised his point, Noburu didn’t miss the man's eyes darting to his left hand where two fingers were missing.

It was best to take the chance to address his hand now instead of hiding it and letting Takumi’s thoughts fester into something more.

“Chisel,” Noboru stated, holding his left hand up. “When I apprenticed as a woodworker. One moment, I was smoothing out a joint, and the next, I’m looking at two bloody fingers lying on the floor.” He grimaced, shaking his head. “Learned a lesson that day; tools can be as deadly and as sharp as any weapon.” He chuckled at the imaginary memory. “Expensive lesson.”

Any suspicion in Takumi’s face evaporated. “Once or twice a semester, an overly enthusiastic student gets cut. Leaves a nasty scar. Told the screams are horrible.” He shook his head. “Then again, they are being trained to wage war. Some of the highborn students we get from Centralis seem to think it's all a game…” Takumi coughed quietly. “Excuse me. I shouldn’t ramble.”

“As much as I enjoy listening to men talk about injuries,” Seonmi intoned sarcastically. “Takumi, could you please enquire as to whether we have permission to salvage rivets from storage? We’d only take from pieces that have degraded beyond any reasonable possibility of restoration. Also, please request permission for us to bring in larger equipment and chemicals for the acid baths and humidifying chambers.”

They didn’t have access to that equipment, but Takumi didn’t need to know that. 

“Forgive Yunseo,” Noburu said with a smile. “She becomes a shawa if you get in the way of her work. She’d argue with a Highlord until the moons fall.”

He continued to joke and build rapport with the archivist. If someone enjoyed your company, then manipulating them became easy. All they needed to do was fool the man long enough to identify their target in the academy's storage and make copies of any keys they needed. Then, all Noburu needed to do was slip in and out one night.

Soon, Kiku. Soon, I’ll give us all a better life.

Amelia felt awful.

Sure, Mel was fine. She had no injuries, and mentally, she seemed okay with what had happened. If anything, the woman seemed even more motivated to train.

But that wasn’t how Amelia felt.

The would-be assassin was more than likely after her. Mel had just been unfortunate enough to interrupt the ochimusha as he infiltrated Amelia’s quarters. Judging from the man's equipment and his apparent aura level, he would have been no threat to Amelia or even Serena. Should the ochimusha have tried to plunge his dagger into her sleeping body, it would’ve just bent or shattered against her wards.

But not Mel. Against Mel, that dagger had sliced and diced the poor woman - Amelia’s friend. If Amelia hadn’t been sneaking off to have fun with her girlfriend, she would’ve been there to give the assassin a very rude awakening. She should’ve been there. If Amelia had taken her situation more seriously, Mel wouldn’t have been so close to dying.

Her friend almost died!

If it hadn’t been for this mysterious healer, about whom Amelia had her own theories that she was keeping close to her chest, Mel would have died. The thought made Amelia experience an odd mix of guilt and anger. In the end, it was basically luck that prevented the worst-case scenario from appearing.

She had to do better.

Where she’d once been fearful of her powers, she now had become so comfortable that her perception of what was and wasn’t a threat was becoming skewed. Whether she tripped and fell off the Asamaywa plateau, some wild beast attacked her, or a battleship turned its mighty guns against her, Amelia instinctively knew she would be okay. In fact, she’d begun to enjoy her sense of power. 

However, it turned out that being powerful didn’t automatically mean harm couldn’t be dealt to those around her. Amelia couldn’t ward everyone. Her aether capacity was tremendous, but she still had a finite amount of formations she could maintain simultaneously. She couldn’t give all her friends the layers of protection she afforded herself and Serena.

And even though she could ward Mel, she had refused the offer!

Mel had done so respectfully, explaining that any outside aether interference would limit the development of her warrior’s aura. The woman placed no blame on Amelia; instead, she looked back on the event as a positive experience. Apparently, the last thing she remembered was manifesting her first-ever orange aura. That alone seemed to overshadow the fact that she almost died. One of the first things she requested permission for was to send an aethergram to her family informing them of her breakthrough!

Serena explained Mel’s attitude was a result of multiple intersecting forces. It was the combination of Eastern culture, the spirit of a warrior, and the pride of being an Imperial Officer. Serena actually seemed impressed with Mel’s attitude, directly hinting that she wanted Mel on the Vengeance’s Officer cohort after the semester ended.

Amelia was getting used to the various cultures she kept coming into contact with, but even after so many months, she still felt like an outsider sometimes and-

“Still thinking about the incident?” Lunaria asked, interrupting Amelia’s self-reflection. “You’ve barely eaten in the three hours we’ve been at it,” she added, pointing towards the box of buns, each filled with delicious meat and vegetables.

“It’s fine,” Amelia waved a hand. “I can heal my hunger away.” She invoked a quick burst of healing magic to emphasise the point, briefly painting the Speaker training room in a golden glow. Not only did her hunger disappear, but she also felt better mentally. A person could be injured in far more ways that aren’t readily visible to an observer, and Amelia was glad Aseco’s healing seemed to understand that.

“Shall we continue?” Amelia asked, immediately feeling more cheerful as she returned to her usual bubbly self. “We were five-point-five last time, and my perception lasted for fifteen minutes, so let’s try… six?” She gestured towards the aether-density gauges Lunaria had propped up in the room. They’d been taken from an old cruiser's upper and lower masts. Typically used to determine the aether density in the case of lumina storms, they were now repurposed to estimate the sheer amount of aether both Lunaria and Amelia had been cycling.

“Yes,” Lunaria affirmed.

They took their positions in the center of the room. Amelia sensed Lunaria expel her aether while forming Igni, so she followed suit with Taranis.

“Igni,” Spoke Lunaria.

“Taranis”, Spoke Amelia.

Unlike their prior duel, where they had both Spoken with enough aether in reserve to produce an explosive result, this time, there was only a subtle pulse, both in the aetherfield and the surrounding dirt and sand.

It was a skill seen more often in mages due to their disproportionate focus on aether control, but still extremely rare. Speaking silently had far more utility for warriors, though. The ability to Speak in combat without blowing away your surroundings and comrades or giving your location to nearby aetherscopes was a tremendous advantage. Amelia had been trying to encourage Serena to practice the skill.

The more careful way of Speaking also led to less impressive transformations. Sure, Amelia once again had a wonderful set of glowing horns made out of densely wrapped lightning, sprouting from her forehead, but they didn’t quite crackle with as much energy as they had previously. For now, at least. The pair of them had been progressively increasing the amount of aether while under the divine communion of the First-Word.

“Let’s begin,” Lunaria instructed, flapping her wings of hellfire.

For the eighth time, they set about cycling enormous amounts of aether. The atmosphere quickly became dense with aether, and the density gauge slowly crept up. At two points, the atmosphere hummed with energy. At three points, there was enough aether to be lethal to an unprotected person with prolonged exposure. At four points, they were approaching the level of a lumina storm.

At five points, the Shimmer became visible.

A strange layered reality that shifted between greyscale and sepia. Through this new world, the perception of magic changed. Amelia's cloaking wards, usually a solid bulwark against prying eyes, were now partially transparent, allowing Lunaria to sense approximately one-fifth of Amelia’s actual aether capacity. Similarly, Lunaria’s glamors could be seen through with no effort, and her wards were quickly identifiable. The underlying nature of aether became more transparent, which meant that identifying the nature of a specific spell was much more manageable.

In the Shimmer, it was difficult to disguise yourself or your actions.

As they cycled titanic amounts of aether the barrier between the two realities broke down even further. It was becoming easier to differentiate the two worlds from each other. At first, Amelia had to focus intently on opening her perception, barely catching a glimpse of sepia. Now, only after doing it a few times, she was quickly getting to grips with it. It felt similar to the Spinning Dancer optical illusion from her old world, which consisted of an animated silhouette of a rotating figure. Without any visual cues for depth, the silhouette could be imagined as rotating clockwise or anti-clockwise. With enough practice, you could make it switch at will. Viewing the Shimmer was similar, but the amount of aether in the atmosphere made it easier.

“Mmm...” hummed Lunaria. “I’ll try attacking…”

The Head Instructor’s aether boiled, and Amelia was treated to a beautiful kaleidoscope of colours flowing around Lunaria within the Shimmer as the formation was constructed in the real world. The fireball manifested and was launched in her direction. A solid ball of churning hellfire, more than a meter in diameter, sought to burn her to a crisp.

The fireball existed in the Shimmer as well, but only partially. Despite the spell using an enormous amount of aether on the outside, only a tiny amount, perhaps one-tenth, manifested in the Shimmer. It was as if the fireball was leaking a little of its aether.

Amelia blocked the attack with a ward, prompting a burst of colour to erupt from the impact point in the Shimmer. She watched carefully and found that her hypothesis was proving true: Aether within the Shimmer naturally spread out when uncontrolled by a mage's willpower, eventually leaking undetected into the real world, appearing no different than normal aetherfield fluctuations.

The operative word here being uncontrolled. Amelia, at all times, controlled a significant amount of aether to maintain Serena’s wards. After she’d faced complaints by Chesterfield regarding her river of aether flowing across the Eastern Terra Firma to maintain Polina’s wards, she’d put in effort to cloak the even greater amounts of aether that protected Serena. By relying on her intuition and instinct, she’d found decent success in cloaking the telltale aetherflow that indicated Serena was warded, hiding the evidence from most normal mages. Now, with her new and growing perception, she understood that what she had achieved was to simply shift the aetherflow into the Shimmer.

They continued to conduct further experiments. While they both could readily see into the Shimmer, Lunaria believed that travelling into the mysterious space should be possible. She’d shown Amelia fragments of scholars from various periods in the Empire’s history that discussed the possibility. Frustratingly, none of them shared any actual method. Lunaria suggested that a way would appear if they channelled even more aether.

However, travelling to this other realm was a long-term target. They had a far more reachable goal in mind. Together, they’d discovered that if they maintained a little focus, they could still see inside the Shimmer even after they’d stopped cycling such enormous amounts of aether and even after they released their Words. It was as if now that they’d been exposed to the Shimmer with such clarity, some of that clarity remained with them.

They were training their perception, opening it up to the world's truth.

Their last round of cycling aether had reached the five-point-five mark on the aether-density gauge. Without Amelia, Lunaria could only get a little over five for a short period. This time they reached six, causing the real world and the Shimmer to be as clear as day.

Amelia could even start to see Lunaria’s beautiful, shining soul.

With more practice, would she be able to see and identify blessings like she could under the embodiment of Asclepius?

After a few more minutes of cycling, Lunaria began to struggle under the intensity. With a nod, they both released their Words. The density gauge dropped to two, but the Shimmer was still within her perception, even without the extra sensory organ of Amelia’s horns. It was notably more opaque than before, but they could still see it. Slowly, as time passed, that opaqueness grew more and more until it became a barely visible muddy reflection of the world.

But Amelia could still see it.

“I think I’ve cracked it,” Amelia said, feeling her forehead furrow in concentration.

“Cracked?”

“I mean I think I can still see it, only just. What's the gauge indicating?”

“...point five.” Lunaria took a breath. “That’s almost atmospheric levels.”

“Mmm…” Amelia mumbled, focusing her aether around her eyes, maximising her perception. Yes, she wasn’t mistaken. She could still see the Shimmer. Her eyes had adjusted as if they’d learned how to perceive light outside the visible spectrum. Only instead of a new colour, it was a whole new plane of reality.

It wasn’t anything close to the clarity she had under the influence of Taranis while blasting aether. Still, it was enough to vaguely see the outline of Lunaria’s shape and the faintest perception of the vibrant colours of her formations.

Amelia let her enhancements reduce ever so slightly, toying between the point at which the Shimmer became hidden. She needed to train herself to perceive this hidden world even when she wasn’t buffed up on many perception-enhancing spells. Otherwise, she would be nursing a constant headache that would need continuous healing day in and day out.

“Can you still see it…?” Lunaria asked.

“Yes, it goes when I reduce some of my spells, but I can bring it back.”

“Incredible…” came the muttered reply.

Amelia silently agreed. In the previous attempts, once they lost perception of the Shimmer, they had to spool back up to First-Word levels of aether to regain their sight. Now, Amelia’s senses were experienced enough to recover that sight without Speaking.

“Can you sense anything different about me when I’m looking into the Shimmer?” Amelia asked.

Lunaria said she couldn’t, even when flaring her aether to the best of her ability.

“If you can maintain that sight while under atmospheric amounts of aether…” Lunaria began. “The advantage would be tremendous.”

“Right.” Amelia nodded. “Imagine the advantage in a duel,” she added, thinking of Hinako. In Cascadian society, a mage or warrior walking around maintaining a few wards or a low-level aura was considered an acceptable measure of pre-emptive self-defence. A sudden flaring of aura or spell formation was considered a precursor to conflict. It was why cloaking was so powerful. A person who could disguise their third-circle ward as a first-circle one, or their orange aura as a red aura, would be able to mislead their opponents or potential attackers. A mage with good enough cloaking could even hide the fact they were preparing an attack.

But if you could examine people through the Shimmer, their actual capabilities would become evident. You would know who was hiding their strength or preparing for an attack. In all honestly, it wasn’t that much of an enhancement over Amelia’s standard abilities. She could already push her perception to such unbelievable heights, backed by tremendous amounts of cloaked aether, that she’d only met two people she couldn’t perceive.

And one of them was a Formless.

What would Anathor look like through the Shimmer? She’d read most of the book - The Formless: Sightings and Conversations - and was eager to interrogate, no, have a conversation with him. Maybe he would know something about this mysterious inner world.

She also made a mental note to work on her cloaking. She thought her cloaks were an impenetrable wall against prying eyes, allowing her to construct formations freely. However, through the Shimmer, her cloaks were surprisingly transparent, allowing someone like Lunaria to gain a bit more information about Amelia’s true capabilities that she’d rather stay hidden.

Although, the aged and tactful Head Instructor hadn’t mentioned anything.

“Ready to go again?” Lunaria asked. Amelia caught the unmistakable glint of hunger in the Aether Addict’s eyes. There was no way the old demon would let Amelia go until she could also see the Shimmer under atmospheric levels of aether.

Chucking, Amelia got into position, and once again, the pair invoked their Words. Lunaria was extremely talented, and raising her perception to the required level shouldn't take long, especially with Amelia's help.

Right?