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Chapter 154. Fyre
🕑 Added 2025-09-03 11:25:45 +0000 UTCMagus.
The title was less about magical prowess and more about political positioning within the labyrinthine structure of the Imperial Magisterium.
While the rank certainly required demonstrated competence—specifically achieving master-level proficiency in at least one of the seven fundamental schools of magic—the real qualification was something far more nebulous and infinitely more valuable: access.
One could reasonably think of the Magisterium as an exclusive club where the membership fees were paid in decades of your life, carefully cultivated relationships, and an almost pathological devotion to bureaucratic procedure.
Most mages spent their entire careers playing an elaborate game of political krozball, jumping from one administrative hoop to the next, collecting stamps of approval from increasingly pompous officials who had themselves spent decades collecting similar stamps from their own pompous superiors.
The average timeline from apprentice to master was fifteen years, assuming you didn't accidentally offend someone important, get caught in a political scandal, or make the mistake of demonstrating too much competence too quickly.
From master to senior positions within the hierarchy, another ten to twenty years of carefully orchestrated brown-nosing and strategic committee memberships. From there to magus, if it happened at all, required both exceptional circumstances and the kind of political backing that most people could only dream about.
Adom had compressed that entire journey into roughly five years, which was rather like completing a marathon by taking a flying broom to the finish line.
The flying broom, in this case, was his strategic partnership with Archmage Gaius Emris.
Both regressors shared knowledge that made most political maneuvering seem like children arguing over toys in a sandbox. They knew how the current trajectory would end—the collapse that waited if nothing changed, the darkness that would consume everything men had spent centuries building.
Gaius understood his own limitations in this timeline. Age, established political enemies, the accumulated weight of expectations that came with actually being in charge of things. He was unlikely to live long enough to see the necessary changes through to completion.
To prepare for the World Dungeon.
Adom represented a different approach. Younger, less encumbered by existing political obligations, and positioned to make moves that Gaius himself could never attempt without triggering approximately seventeen different political crises.
The partnership was born from shared purpose. Gaius provided access to the examinations, training facilities, and political connections that would otherwise have taken decades to acquire. Adom provided the skills and competence to actually capitalize on those opportunities.
Because access alone meant absolutely nothing without the ability to back it up, and the Magisterium was littered with the careers of well-connected individuals who had discovered this truth rather painfully.
Adom's appointment to magus rank had come exactly one year ago, making him the youngest person to hold the position in over two centuries. The controversy within Magisterium circles had been immediate, sustained, and absolutely delicious to observe from the outside.
Senior masters who had been waiting decades for advancement opportunities found themselves passed over in favor of someone who had barely figured out how to tie his own boots when they'd started their careers.
The criticism wasn't entirely wrong about the timeline being unprecedented, but it missed the strategic necessity driving the decision. This wasn't about rewarding a promising student—it was about positioning someone capable of making changes that conventional political processes would never allow, mostly because conventional political processes were designed specifically to prevent anyone from making changes.
The ten current magi served as more than the Archmage's representatives; they were the pool from which future Archmage would be selected, assuming they survived long enough and didn't get caught in any scandals involving inappropriate use of magic or unfortunate incidents with summoned creatures.
By fast-tracking Adom's advancement, Gaius was ensuring that someone with the knowledge and determination necessary to prevent catastrophe would be available when succession became inevitable.
The position of magus carried authority that was primarily political rather than magical.
They could override local magisterium officials, commandeer resources, and make policy decisions that affected thousands of lives, all while maintaining the kind of cheerful bureaucratic smile that made people wonder if they should be worried. The magical competence was important, but it was the political authority that made the rank significant.
Within this framework, only three entities could overrule a magus's direct orders within Magisterium matters: the Archmage, the Emperor himself...
Or another magus.
The figure who had just interrupted Adom's disciplinary action was making a very clear statement about which category he belonged to.
He stepped fully into the showroom, standing tall on his broom as if the enchanted wood were solid ground beneath his feet. His hands were clasped behind his back. A staff floated beside him, spinning slowly in a controlled orbit, while his pointed hat and robes marked him as someone who had invested considerable resources in equipment designed to enhance magical performance.
"Magus Sylla."
The voice carried across the showroom without being raised. Calm, professional, expectant.
Adom looked up from the struggling officials and smiled. "Magus Merlin."
The man on the broom inclined his head slightly. His eyes swept over the scene below—five Magisterium officials pressed flat against the stone floor by what was clearly a gravity enchantment, their faces various shades of red and purple as they fought for breath.
"Would you mind releasing them?" Merlin asked politely. "I believe they'll start dying if this continues much longer."
Adom cancelled the spell with one gesture.
The effect was immediate. The crushing weight vanished, and all five officials gasped like drowning men suddenly breaking the surface. Klaus Horn rolled onto his side, clutching his chest and making small whimpering sounds. The young adept with the injured wrist cradled his arm against his body while tears streamed down his face. The others simply lay there, breathing in ragged, desperate gulps.
One of them vomited. The sound echoed unpleasantly in the stone-walled showroom.
Merlin observed this with cold detachment. His broom descended slowly until his feet touched the floor, though he remained standing on the enchanted wood rather than stepping off it. The floating staff continued its lazy orbit around him.
"Well," he said, looking around the room. "I gather things didn't go quite as planned."
Adom glanced toward Filli and the apprentices, who were still pressed against the walls with expressions of barely controlled panic. Tomás had blood dried on his split lip, and there were still fragments of his broken bracket scattered across the floor near the counter.
"Not particularly, no."
Merlin's gaze moved to Klaus Horn, who was still making those small choking sounds while trying to push himself upright. The man's perfectly groomed beard was now matted with dust and what appeared to be his own saliva.
"Senior Adept Horn," Merlin said conversationally. "I trust you're finding this educational?"
Horn managed to lift his head enough to look at the second magus. His eyes were bloodshot and watery, and his voice came out as little more than a croak. "Sir... we were... official business..."
"Yes, I'm sure you were." Merlin's tone remained perfectly neutral. "Perhaps you'd like to explain to me what official business required striking a civilian apprentice?"
Horn's mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound emerged.
Adom stepped forward slightly. "Senior Adept Horn and his team arrived demanding immediate consultation with Master Kern. When informed that she operates by appointment only, they became... insistent. The situation escalated when young Tomás attempted to explain the scheduling system."
"Escalated how?"
"Horn struck him. Then used offensive magic against civilians when I attempted to intervene."
Merlin nodded slowly, as if this confirmed something he'd already suspected. He looked directly at Horn, who was now attempting to sit upright with limited success.
"Senior Adept Horn, you are aware that assault of civilians constitutes grounds for immediate dismissal from the Magisterium?"
Horn's voice was barely audible. "Sir... we had orders..."
"Orders to strike apprentice smiths?"
"No sir, but—"
"Orders to use combat magic in civilian establishments?"
"Sir, we were told the matter was urgent—"
Merlin raised one hand slightly, and Horn's mouth snapped shut. Not magically—the man simply recognized the gesture for what it was.
"Magus Sylla has already rendered judgment in this matter," Merlin said calmly. "I see no reason to dispute his assessment. You struck an innocent young man who was doing his job properly. You used offensive magic without justification. You failed to identify a superior officer and continued to escalate after being given opportunities to de-escalate."
He paused, studying Horn's expression.
"Frankly, I'm surprised Magus Sylla was as lenient as he was. I might have simply had you arrested."
Horn looked like he wanted to say something, but wisely kept his mouth shut.
Merlin stepped down from his broom—finally—and walked over to where Filli and his apprentices were still clustered against the wall. The staff continued floating beside him, maintaining its steady rotation.
"Master Fili," he said, offering a slight bow. "I apologize for this incident. I had sent these men ahead to arrange a consultation while I finished another matter. I clearly should have accompanied them personally."
Fili blinked several times, apparently still processing the fact that two magi were having a polite conversation in his showroom while five officials groaned on the floor nearby.
"I... that's... you don't need to apologize, sir."
"I'm afraid I do." Merlin's expression was genuinely regretful. "These men were acting under my orders, which makes their conduct partially my responsibility. The fact that they exceeded those orders doesn't absolve me of sending them without proper supervision."
He turned to look at Tomás, whose split lip had stopped bleeding but still looked painful.
"Young man, are you seriously injured?"
Tomás touched his lip gingerly. "No sir. Just... just bruised, mostly."
"I'm very sorry this happened to you. It was completely inexcusable." Merlin reached into his robes and withdrew a small crystal vial filled with pale blue liquid. "This should help with the swelling and pain. And please accept my personal guarantee that nothing like this will happen again."
He handed the vial to Tomás, who accepted it with obvious confusion.
"Thank you, sir."
Merlin nodded, then turned his attention back to the officials, who were slowly managing to get themselves into sitting positions. The one who had vomited was wiping his mouth with his sleeve and looking deeply embarrassed.
"Gentlemen," Merlin said, his tone becoming noticeably more formal. "You will return to headquarters immediately. You will report to Disciplinary Magistrate Helena within the hour—not three days, as Magus Sylla generously allowed. You will accept whatever punishment she deems appropriate without appeal or complaint."
Klaus Horn made one last attempt at salvaging the situation. "Sir, if we could just explain—"
"No." The word was quiet but absolute. "You've done quite enough explaining for one day."
Adom watched the magus continue his circuit around the forge, checking on each of the apprentices individually. The man had a way of making people feel heard without actually saying much—a nod here, a quiet question there, making sure no one else had been hurt during the confrontation.
Newt Merlin.
The Merlin family tree read like a condensed history of Sundarian magical achievement. They were one of the five founding houses of the empire, which meant their bloodline had been accumulating power, influence, and strategic marriages for over three millennia. Most of the really impressive mages in the imperial records had either been Merlins themselves or had married into the family at some point.
Before Adom's appointment at eighteen, Merlin had held the record as the youngest magus ever appointed. He'd been fifty-six at the time, which wasn't particularly old by magical standards. Human mages averaged around a hundred and fifty years if they didn't do anything spectacularly stupid with experimental spells or political enemies. Merlin was somewhere in his sixties now, still decades away from anything resembling old age.
Among the nine other magi currently serving under Archmage Gaius, Adom had mentally sorted them into three categories. Six of them were openly hostile to him. The reasons varied—some believed his rapid advancement was pure nepotism, others thought he was too young and inexperienced for the responsibilities, a few seemed personally offended that someone had broken a centuries-old precedent simply by existing.
Then there were the neutral ones.
They maintained polite professional distance, neither supportive nor antagonistic. They treated him with the basic courtesy required by rank while making it clear they weren't particularly interested in friendship.
Merlin was the only one who fell into a third category. Not quite neutral, but not hostile either. He'd been actively kind to Adom, which according to Gaius was a very good sign indeed.
He was also the current favorite for succession when Gaius eventually stepped down.
In Adom's original timeline, Merlin had been among those killed during the assassination of Archmage Gaius. A waste of a decent man and a competent leader, cut down in the political chaos that had preceded the empire's collapse.
Merlin finished his conversation with Marina, the stocky apprentice, and walked back toward where the officials were still attempting to organize themselves into something resembling dignity. Klaus Horn had managed to get to his feet, though he was swaying slightly and his face was still an unhealthy shade of gray.
"Can you walk?" Merlin asked him.
Horn nodded, then immediately regretted the motion as it seemed to make his dizziness worse.
"Good. Then walk. All of you. Back to headquarters. Now."
The five officials shuffled toward the door like beaten dogs. Horn paused at the threshold and looked back, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something.
Merlin raised an eyebrow.
Horn's mouth snapped shut, and he hurried after his subordinates.
The showroom fell quiet except for the distant sound of hammering from the back forge, where someone had apparently decided that work would continue despite the recent excitement.
"Well," Merlin said, turning back to Adom. "That was refreshing. I heard Master Kern has quite the reputation," he glanced around the showroom. "I was hoping to place an order myself, but I understand she's rather particular about scheduling."
"She is," Adom confirmed. "Worth the wait, though."
"I'm sure." Merlin stepped back onto his broom, which rose smoothly until he was hovering at eye level again. "I'll make a proper appointment next time. Speaking of which, I'll see you at tomorrow's meeting before our new mission assignments?"
Adom nodded. "Wouldn't miss it."
They shook hands—Merlin leaning down from his broom to do so—and then the older magus was gliding toward the door, his staff still orbiting lazily around him.
"Always a pleasure, Adom."
"Likewise, Newt."
The door closed behind him, and the showroom felt suddenly much larger without the presence of two magi and five groaning officials filling it. The apprentices began to relax, returning to their various tasks with the kind of careful normalcy people adopted after witnessing something they'd probably be talking about for months.
Adom turned back to Filli, who was standing by the counter looking like he'd forgotten something important.
"So," Adom said. "What exactly did you want to show me?"
Filli's eyes widened. "Oh! Right!" He smacked his forehead with his palm. "With all the excitement, I completely—yes, you need to see this. Come with me."
He headed toward the back of the shop, gesturing for Adom to follow. As they walked through the main forge area, past the glowing furnaces and the rhythmic hammering of the other smiths, Filli began talking excitedly.
"So you remember that celestium metal shipment I received a few months ago from Wangara? Beautiful stuff, but tricky to work with. And I still had some starfallen metal left over from that commission job. Now, the original Wam and Bam are still perfectly functional, don't get me wrong, but..."
Adom was listening carefully.
Filli would eventually become known as Fyre the Great, one of the most innovative metalworkers in imperial history. Adom had learned to pay attention when the man got excited about something, because it usually meant he was on the verge of another breakthrough.
"I've been experimenting," Filli continued, leading them down a narrow hallway toward his personal workshop. "You know how you keep having to bring Wam and Bam back for repairs? Every time you use that thunder shrimp attack of yours, the energy discharge damages the enchantment matrices. The metal itself holds up fine, but the magical components keep burning out."
Adom nodded. It was an ongoing problem. His attacks were powerful, but they tended to be hard on equipment that wasn't specifically designed to channel that much raw energy.
"Well, I started thinking about that. And then I remembered something about how starfallen metal interacts with celestium under certain temperature conditions. There's this crystallization process that happens if you get the timing exactly right..."
They reached the workshop door, and Filli paused with his hand on the handle. His eyes were practically glowing with excitement.
"The thing is, I think I've created something entirely new. A metal alloy that's never existed before. I'm calling it valiant, because honestly, you'd have to be either very brave or very stupid to try what I tried."
He opened the door and ushered Adom inside.
The workshop was smaller than the main forge but much more cluttered. Workbenches covered every available surface, loaded with tools, partially completed projects, and what appeared to be several dozen failed experiments. The air smelled of metal polish and ozone.
"The problem with your current gauntlets," Filli said, walking over to a covered workbench in the center of the room, "is that they're built for someone with normal human strength and normal magical output. But you're not exactly normal, are you?"
Adom laughed. "I've been told that once or twice."
"Right. So I designed these for someone who hits like a force of nature and channels mana and Fluid like it's going out of style."
He pulled away the cloth covering the workbench.
The new gauntlets were beautiful. The base metal was a deep silver that seemed to shift between mirror-bright and matte depending on the angle of the light. Black accents ran along the knuckles and finger joints in patterns that looked almost organic. Intricate runes had been etched into the metal, so fine and detailed they must have taken weeks to complete. Tiny crystals were embedded at strategic points—on the knuckles, along the wrists, and at the base of each finger—glowing with a soft blue light that pulsed gently like a heartbeat.
"Filli," Adom breathed. "These are incredible."
"The valiant alloy can handle magical channeling that would melt ordinary metal," Filli explained, practically bouncing on his toes. "The crystals store excess energy instead of letting it discharge randomly. And the rune work—well, let's just say I've been studying some very old texts."
Adom reached out and activated his identification skill.
[Identify]
The system response appeared in his vision, and his eyes widened.
[Item: Wam and Bam (Class SSS)
Type: Enchanted Battle Gauntlets
Properties:
Courage Metal Construction: Virtually indestructible under normal combat conditions. Resistant to magical overload and energy discharge.
Mana Amplification: Increases magical attack potency by 300%.
Energy Storage: Can store up to 10,000 units of excess mana, releasing it on command or during critical strikes.
Self-Repair: Minor damage automatically heals over time using stored mana.
Adaptive Resonance: Attunes to wielder's magical signature for optimal performance.]
"Fili..." Adom said quietly.
Filli grinned. "I was hoping you'd be pleased."
Adom paused, feeling like he should say something profound about the breakthrough, about the innovation, about what this meant for magical metallurgy as a whole. Instead, what came out was:
"About that name, though. I think you could do better."
Filli blinked. "Right?! Valiant seemed cool at first, but it keeps reminding me of that mouse friend of yours."
Adom laughed. "Exactly what I was thinking. So, what will you name it?"
Filli fell silent, his brow furrowing in concentration. Adom waited, watching the wheels turn in the young smith's head.
"What about..." Filli said slowly, then stopped. He was quiet for another long moment. "There was this dwarven hero I always admired growing up. Fyre Ironheart. He lived about eight hundred years ago, during the Third Age. They say he was the one who first figured out how to forge with dragonfire, and that he created the weapons that ended the Goblin Wars. He's considered the father of all modern blacksmithing techniques."
Filli's voice grew more animated as he spoke. "The stories say he could forge metals that didn't exist in nature, that he could pull the essence of stars down into his anvil. Most smiths have a little shrine to him in their workshops. I've got one over there." He gestured toward a corner where a small carved figure sat among the tools.
Adom smiled gently. Would you look at that. "Fyre metal," he repeated, testing how it sounded. "I like it."
Comments
mezeka
TFTC! That was a pretty cool entrance for a Magus.
Landsraad
Dump truck when? Lol
xXMetrinSlerbaXx
They turned him into a newt? I hope he got better.
Landsraad
Nice! Just when I found my hiding place at work
Ace_the_owl
Good day everyone! Today's chapter day! And tomorrow's chapter dump day! Yay! Hope this one's enjoyable :)
