Arms

I managed to get roughly three hours of sleep in before the sun started shining through my window. Signaling me to gather my vassals and corral them to my Grandfather's office.

Inside, the man himself was standing by the window, looking beyond the terrace to where a massive, scaled and somewhat zombified creature undulated in midair. Flooding the stench of carrion throughout the entirety of the office.

My eyes traced the curvature of its hulking body around and around the tower as stepped on. And back down to my Grandfather's hulking, amiable figure sitting just to my right."What is this thing?"

"A sky serpent." Came his blunt reply.

I responded with silence and instead continued my search of arms, legs, or a head until my vassals got on board behind us and buckled themselves onto the decayed scales with some rudimentary straps looped through the exposed ribs.

And the moment they were secured, my stomach, intestines, and other organs seemed to slam against my spine as the creature suddenly lunged. Rocketed us first forward, then skyward at breakneck speed.

"So." I gasped, turning back to the now-distant Tower; but a black speck sitting next to a single piece of glitter, shimmering atop the powdered surface. "Where did you get this… sky serpent?"

"From here." Grandpa Lich softly replied. "Before this land was ever called Deapou or Odissi."

"Interesting." I scratched my chin and peered over the ribs to see the vast landscape skating by, far below. "I've always been interested in your story." I turned back to him. "Where you came from. How you became a Magus."

"My story, huh?" He sighed, scratching his own beard for a few moments. A sort of glaze spread over his eyes as he too stared at the distant horizon.

"Well." He eventually heaved out a deep breath, his eyes still locked on the horizon. "I was born in the year one thousand and two. On an island, off the coast of Phaegrath. Jamettus was born on the mainland around a year after. Like everyone else, we were raised in conflict. It was through fighting monsters that we met. A gesture in my direction came with his comment. "And from that day, we continued fighting side-by-side for centuries. Dreaming of better days.

"That lasted until the twelve-thirties." He flicked his gaze to me. "When a sudden and intense wave of mana appeared. Jamettus and I traced the energy to the epicenter. To here. This snow-capped plateau of an island." He dramatically paused to spread his arms all around us. "On this untamed island, we found strange creatures; previously unseen by my generation and heard of only in tales. They were many, but the most important of them were the elves; roaming the lands as if they were conquering the place.

"They came to us like generals. Scholars. Architects. They organized us. Educated us in magic and instructed us to build arcane constructs to increase our power and awaken higher forms of magic. It was through their guidance that Jamettus and I were able to create this Empire." He humbly declared. "And those elves are the reason why the barrier around Ulai exists."

"And my mother was among them?" I assumed.

Grandpa quickly shook his head. "She came much later. Only after Emeric was twice your age, did Eved seek him out. Though, it isn't my place to tell." He dismissively shrugged.

'Fair enough.' I mentally shrugged in turn. "I assume you went to the academy then? In the year, ten-seventeen; if my math is correct. Where else have you gone?"

"Ah, yes." He shot an amused look at me before shifting his gaze back just as quickly. "I graduated from the academy at the top of my class, actually. And my travels have taken me to Nonus, Betrarth, and even Vagua. I'm a Magus for a reason!" He bellowed across the skies.

"And what about the other Magus?" I asked. "James Epeth?"

"Ugh." His shoulders severely slouched as the pride and nostalgia left his eyes to be replaced with something a bit more… bitter. "We met the Barrier Brat after our return to Maru. The elves had recruited him, you see. From was already a well-established empire. He was always pretentious and entitled, and meeting the elves only increased such traits in his personality tenfold. They helped him seal Ulai behind a barrier, and because of that, he became a Magus like Jamettus and I.

"While we were busy creating our kingdoms, he returned to the throne that was his birthright in Epethia. An expansive land, but with that vast real estate, came a lack of control in the further reaches. He finally needed our help." Grandpa smugly shrugged. "But he had certain… beliefs, that Jamettus and I misaligned with. That led to the slander of both our names. Propaganda that bred hate and resentment in the Epethian citizenry as the generations passed.

"From what I understand, they believe us to be hoarders of wealth. Unwilling to share with anyone outside of our own nation. Though if anyone is to be hoarding, it's the Epethian monarchy." He chuckled, shaking his head.

'How petty.' I thought. Then fought against the temptation to ask what those values were, if only for the sake of my fragile little ears. Instead, I scanned the expansive horizons around me. A mostly white, speckled sheet of land surrounded by leagues of midnight-blue water. Beyond was the slim, crescent landmass that was my home. Deap Ridge. Even further sat the wrinkled landmass of greens and browns and beiges that seemed to stretch on to eternity.

To my left was… more ocean. As was the right, only tinted a faint aurora-green from the radiant light peering through the perpetually thick fog that surrounded Maru.

Behind us, however; rising even higher than the interdictive mist, was a wall of white. The White Wall. A veritable blot on the northern horizon that panned the entirety of the distant landscape and loomed far, far above even the highest of clouds.

Even from this altitude, it felt as if we hadn't even taken the first step in reaching its summit. Such was the magnificence of the Mortal Plane's scale.

With my Grandfather's story finished, I got in a bit more sightseeing before sneaking in some meditation; and awoke to a sudden sense of harsh vertigo roughly three and a half hours later.

Looking forward, I saw the snout of the rotting serpent slowing and pitching down to the iron cupcake that overlooked the southern coast of the mainland.

We eventually came to a landing on the city outskirts my Grandfather immediately beckoned us to the woodline of the blackwood forests on the northwestern border. Specifically, to a particularly thick and overgrown tree with a set of massive obsidian stones at the base. Etched into it was our family crest, centered above a small enchantment that my grandfather placed the buckle of his belt to.

After descending a long flight of steps, we arrived in a rather unimpressive underground rail complex, illuminated by a blue-green bioluminescent moss or something of its equivalent.

While walking, my Grandfather explained that this was how the majority of the cargo was transported through the empire. The tunnels led to a loading and off-loading bay that I was sure sat beneath the northernmost train station in Odissi proper. And while we were told of a similar bay on the southern end near the coast, our destination was the vast, underground commercial hub set in between.

With it being located directly beneath the Odissian market, I had to wonder if the place was even a secret at all. Sure, no one spoke of it; as far as I knew, at least. But it wasn't as if one needed a password or extensive directions to get here, as there were many staircases and lifts connecting the 'black' market to the proper one above. All one had to do was enter the underground and follow the sparse stream of people moving into the curtained complex, et voila.

"Buy whatever enchantments or potions you need." Grandpa released us with a wave of the hand before turning into the shadows. "No weapons or armor. That comes later."

Entering the place reminded me of the old subway stations that'd been repurposed after the cities had been abandoned on Earth. Brick walls were lined with paintings, torches, and tapestries that cast a decrepit and homely feeling onto the many stalls and booths lining the carpeted floors below.

I was, however, surprised to see the assortment of goods offered in the place. There were, of course, the obvious things; clothes, weapons, tools, and enchantments. Though the more peculiar wares involved meat advertised to have been cut from various monsters and other monster parts; as well as potions, tomes, and grimoires. All arranged like departments in a supermarket, a veritably warehouse-sized lot for each and every type of product sold within the place. Allowing for dozens upon dozens of shop fronts, booths, stalls, and stands to border the comfortably wide aisles. Laughably empty as they were.

Though, I'd much rather browse an unoccupied market than walk through a crowd of kneeling people.

I decided to make a loop around the place in a counterclockwise motion and thus waddled into the first department and towards the first stall I saw. An open bookstore, with six shelves hexagonally arranged around a desk of the same shape at the center.

Curious, I picked up an indiscriminate book to study the cover.

Like the magic it was advertised to hold, the cover had a rough, powdery texture that left an ashen residue on my fingers as I turned it over in my hands to study the spine. Inside, the cover page contained only the title of the assumed late owner. The White Hunter, a captain with smoke magic from an age I knew not. For beyond that, was an intricate lock and chain that wrapped around the rest of the pages and back cover.

'Interesting.' I returned the grimoire to its place and continued scanning the wares for any hints of shadow, death, ice, paper, or lightning magic.

Unsurprisingly, I found grimoires for only ice and lightning.

However, before I could begin inspecting further, the merchant kindly told me not to unravel the tomes.

I simply nodded in acknowledgment waddled the maze of departments for a bit to tell Toril and Jonet about the tomes and left the matter in their hands. Then, I moved on to the next section I was most interested in.

Enchantments.

Through my perusing, I was able to gain an understanding of the types of general enchantments available for use. While they only had a few available types from an affinity standpoint, each enchantment; whether it be centered around heat or cold or shadow, had a variety of options from which to choose from. Or rather, conditions.

When choosing a single water pump, for example, one had to consider if they wanted the pump to run continuously or on-demand. On top of that, the flow rate and if applicable, the temperature had to be determined.

In the end, I purchased one standard-capacity water pump of each type and a continuous high-capacity pump for five and ten silver coins respectively; four culinary and two industrial heating elements for twelve silver and two gold coins respectively; and my most expensive purchase as of yet, six heavily enchanted rucksacks for twelve-hundred gold coins.

Though I still had millions of gold coins left in my Pocket, seeing such a drop in my reserves implored me to be a little more frugal with my spending from here on out.

I still had mana wells to buy, after all.

Besides the basics, I didn't see any enchantments that fancied my interest. There were many that granted resistances for things like heat, cold, or poison resistance; some for increasing mana sensitivity, and others advertised to provide buffs to certain types of magic. But nothing that did anything like increase the power or capacity of one's mana well.

Acknowledging that, I moved on to the potions section. Were I found Jaimess apparently eying a steel-colored brew like it was his lover; or like he had a brilliant idea.

He was paying for the item and had nearly walked off by the time I had arrived. He seemed eager to continue exploring, so I quickly gave him his satchel and watch him store his new potion inside before bowing his thanks and trotting off further down the aisle. Leaving me in a relatively quiet atmosphere to peruse the selection in.

Retracing his steps to the shelves, I saw a single Stone Skin Potion missing from the stock. For what reason he needed it was my biggest guess. And I didn't particularly care to hypothesize as I moved on to browse the rows of brews.

Like the enchantments, there were potions that gave buffs or resistances to certain types of damage or magic. On top of that were the common, greater, and superior healing potions I learned about in Urda's class. Though, with my proficiency in false life, I didn't feel the particular need to procure any.

The last category of potions seemed to be a more miscellaneous or versatile selection. Brews that allowed people to see in the dark or in infrared, to breathe underwater, or change another part of their physiology for a certain amount of time. The potions I was far more interested in and the ones not found in Urda's syllabus.

While it was fascinating to imagine the effects of the many options available, I was much more interested in learning how to brew the concoctions myself. Despite how powerful I was and would later become, I was fully aware of the fact that there were some things that I would never be able to do and that there would always be someone or something that was better. My hope was that enchantments and now potions would bridge that gap, or at least shorten it. That they'd cover any weakness I had so that I could survive whatever challenges Telin had in store for me.

Operating under the rationalization that I'd either spend too much money or spoil the surprise of learning of a particularly interesting beast, I decided to skip the monster parts section and returned to the curtained entrance to the complex.

Looking around, I saw my three vassals huddled around each other; completely ignorant of the wraith-like form of my Granddad looming behind them.

Without a word, I distributed the bags to the other two before throwing a nod of approval to my hidden Grandfather, then followed him through an innocuous corridor that sat adjacent to the underground market.

We traveled the entirety of its length; hundreds of meters before he appeared in his physical form. Just as a massive troll of a man with ghastly, black-ashen skin snapped his eyes to us and emitted a deep growl that jostled the air itself.

Slowly; probably at a normal pace from his perspective, the troll pulled himself from his recline on the wall and seemed to crawl forth. Crossing the notable distance between us in an instant and filling it with the prostrating form of his massive body.

"My King!" His voice bellowed to the core of my bones, punctuating the powerful gust generating from his simple movements.

"Talos." Grandpa gave a greeting nod to the hulking figure peering above its hands. Then gestured to me. "This is my Great-Grandson, Amun."

The troll- Talos, shifted his bow to me at the first syllable of my name. "The son of Emeric, Blessed by the Shade. Amun, another sovereign of death; touched by the abyss." The troll bowed to me. "I am Talos. Guardian of the Royal Armory."

I tried not to groan from the sheer intensity of his booming voice as I nodded his surprisingly well-mannered greeting. "Pleasure to meet you, Talos."

In silent thanks, Talos bowed its head into the ground. Literally. Nearly knocking me off my feet both then and now, as he rose from the ground. Erecting himself to his full height so that he can sidle along the wall he was reclined on earlier.

The cavern we were in was by no means small; much like everything else on the Mortal Plane, I've come to learn. Still, the troll had to duck just to stand within the place. So much so that the range of stalactites above scraped against his lower back and neck while his head-tracked us across the room.

The great set of doors at the far end; huge when compared to myself, hardly rose above Talos' ankle. Craning my neck above, I saw only pale-blue plates of reflected light that contrasted against the gray-on-gray, wrinkled, fanged, pig-like face surrounding his deep-set eyes.

"Kneel for the Royal Family!"

The order rang out as soon as I crossed the threshold behind my Grandfather. Snapping my eyes down from Talos, I saw a scaled-down version of the market from earlier, occupied by a single individual rising to her feet after my Grandfather's word.

"We have everything prepared for Your Imperial Majesty." She skipped forth. She was a tall and slender woman with pasty skin and brown, heavily greased hair that'd been combed straight back over her head; all but showcasing a prominent widow's peak. "Spears, daggers, axes, maces, needles, and armor for His Grace and his vassals." She gave a presentational bow towards the many display cases bordering the walls before snapping upright to approach me with beaming eyes and an introductory bow. "And you are undoubtedly His Grace in the flesh. I am Manilia Cumana, the royal armorer." She bowed again before rising to her full height. "I've been long awaiting this day. When His Imperial Majesty would bring His Grace, Amun of Odissi here to be fitted for his royal gear. His Imperial Majesty has said much of you, Your Grace. Please." She bowed again. "Allow me to give you all that you will need to succeed."

"Very well." I held my arm out to my side, signaling her to begin.

And Manilia immediately spurred forward, guiding us to the cases. "Since this land was founded, the finest crafters and artificers in the Empire have been enthralled in an endless competition to make the finest weapons and enchantments for the noble and royal families of Deapou and Odissi. Thus, it was deemed necessary for this centralized location to be established. An armory, where merchants could deposit their gear and have it appraised and closely inspected by other merchants. And myself." She paused to give a prideful wink.

"Here, you'll find only the finest creations the Empire has to offer!" She proudly threw her hands towards dozens upon dozens of weapons neatly arranged behind the glass cases.

I and each of my vassals was veritably astounded as we looked over the cases. While most of them were filled with the weapons we favored, the cases straddling the center were filled with nearly every type of weapon one could think of- warhammers; every type of axe imaginable; staffs; flails; scythes; swords; clubs, chains, and sickles. Even slings; bows and crossbows were available for selection. Any and every tool used primarily to end the life of another was on display here in the armory. Made in every model and style one could possibly want or need.

"For Jonet Fischer; His Grace's eyes and ears, I recommend this particular set of wear." Manilia brought us to a wall of gear dedicated entirely for Jonet and gestured to what appeared to be a plain, black under-suit draped over a mannequin. "Light. Inconspicuous. Reinforced and enchanted to defend against both physical and magical attacks. But the choice is yours." She took a final bow before stepping back, allowing Jonet to freely peruse the selection.

Her eyes first fell to the array of needles. Of which, there were six that stared back at her; three enchanted with ice, two with shadow, and one with both.

Naturally; I assumed, her hand reached for the latter. A pair of slim, black wedges that appeared more as hairpins than weapons. Instruments no bigger than a pencil, fashioned with two jewel-like enchantments on the bulbous handles that gave some unknown power to the needles.

After reading a small pamphlet hanging from the handles, Jonet clutched them and the garb Manilia pointed out to her chest and turned to her, smiling as she said. "These are the ones."

"Excellent choices." Manilia bubbly bowed before taking Jaimess by the arm and guiding him across the room to his department. "A financial and political adviser, who uses mace and shield to serve as His Grace's left-wing. For you, Jaimess, A. Corey, I recommend this set."

Jaimess' gaze followed Manilia's outstretched hands to the center-most shelf where a rather vibrant set of medium armor sat between a rather unremarkable mace and plate-sized disk that were both studded with pale, blue gems.

Seeing them for what they were, I took an unconscious step towards the case. "Those enchantments are unprimed."

"They are." Manilia nodded. "It seems someone was considerate of the fact that paper magic is a rarity. Each piece within this set contains three unprimed enchantments for you to imbue your paper magic into; and whatever affinities you'll later awaken as well." She added with a regal wave of the hand.

"I'll take it." Jaimess grinned as he quickly reached into the case to stuff the gear in his rucksack.

Triggering Manilia to race to the next wall and continue her performance. "His Grace's Right Wing. The chosen knight, Toril O'Connell. For you, I recommend this axe and set of armor." She threw her arms to what appeared to be nothing less than a gladiatorial set of armor.

The helmet was a black bronze, Roman-style galea with a mohawk plume the same color as the electricity flowing within its intended owner. Crested on the brow and along the cheek guards were the noble symbols of horses and dragons and other creatures artfully ingrained inside a border of Lichtenberg figures.

The upper portion of his armor consisted of a curiously thick manica for his left arm with a prominent enchantment placed on the forearm and a large breastplate that covered his heart that was etched with the image of a towering mountain, backdropped by fierce storm clouds.

From there, his lower torso was unguarded and empty and remained so until his belt. A thick leather band that supported a small pouch on the small of the back and a loincloth made of chevron-pointed leather straps that hung loosely over the mannequin's thighs. Leaving a long greave similar to the arm brace to cover Toril's right leg from the base of the hip to the top of a pair of high-topped boots.

"Outstanding," Toril muttered to himself, placing his hand on the glass. Then turned his gaze to the weapon.

Much like everything else, the axes on display came in every style and fashion one could think of. Some crude, yet beautiful; others so finely crafted that it'd be a crime to dull their blades against flesh and bone.

The one accompanying the set, however, was somewhere in the middle. A fine piece of craftsmanship. Simple, yet elegant.

It was an abnormally long, one-handed axe with a wide, leafed head like that of a Dane axe; albeit with a fat hammerhead on the opposing side. Gunmetal-black in tone, making a beautiful contrast with the shimmering, polished blade. And even more so with the finely carved handle and spiked, gilded handguard.

Most interesting of all, both to Toril and myself, were the three enchantments, triangularly arranged in the center of the axehead. One a cobalt blue like his lightning attribute, another a dull gray and a final, unprimed enchantment at the top.

I couldn't even be mad watching Toril secure his gear in his bag. Sure, they've been robbed of the ability to make their own choices, but I would've made the same decisions, being in their shoes.

Manilia had that good an eye.

"And for the royal, half-elf sorcerer; His Grace, Amun of Odissi." Manilia beckoned me to the center of the room. Where a particularly wide set of cases sat beneath a black sheet. "I recommend this set."

I arrived at her side just as she revealed the contents and stepped aside. Two cases were straddling a larger third, each with their own distinctive set of armor and weapons.

To the left was a short spear, like an iklwa made from blackwood or some type of ivory. With a gilded, enchanted pommel and two more enchantments within the blade and hilt. Behind it, was more of a fighting garb than a traditional set of armor. Somewhat baggy pants; dyed a sandy beige color, were tucked into a pair of black, minimalist hiking or military-style boots and tied off with a black sash at the waist. A sash that a half-Cassock robe with the same color scheme was tucked into and topped with a black-on-black half-mask that resembled a skeletal jaw. The daggers, on the other hand, were more like the needles Jonet and my Father used. Things I had no particular interest in using, so I went on to peruse the case on the far right.

Held in a brace alongside the frame, was what one would normally think of when imagining a spear: A long, blackwood haft, textured in barbershop ribbons of gold and black with a leaf-shaped blade; also with three enchantments in the same places as the first. Behind it was a gladiator-esque suit of armor much like Toril's. A vibrant helmet and ornate breastplate with mismatching greaves and arm braces that'd serve as the only protection for my already fragile body. Conversely, the daggers were an ornate pair of jambiya. With beautifully curved, double-edged blades of what appeared to be this world's version of wootz steel; and a handle made of some type of ivory that'd been inlaid with two enchantments. Coupled with an ivory sheath that'd been wrapped in the fur of a black kid goat.

'Interesting.' I nodded, facing Manilia's suggested set.

Positioned in much the same way as the other two, was a naginata with a solid black ivory haft or a similar material as the daggers to my right. A thick tuft or collar of ink-black, gold-laced feathers or quills sat at the base of the curved, sword-like blade at the head; made from the same wootz-like steel as before and boasting a triage of enchantments in the same areas as the others. The singular dagger, on the other hand, was a finely crafted seax with a midnight-blue handle and a slanted sheath meant for the small of the back. Behind those, however, was an overbearing, dominating suit of abyssal armor.

From the neck to the toes, the mannequin was covered in beautifully curved plates of a midnight-black metal that spurred into jagged points on the feet, knees, elbows, and shoulders. Making a domineering frame for the black, abyssal horned skull of a helmet poised above it.

It looked like something my Grandfather would wear. Something that people would call a death knight. Like it needed a horse to be complete.

All things that I didn't want in my life.

So, ignoring the expectant gazes of the others, I calmly reached into first the left case, followed by the right, and lastly then center. Then methodically secured my gear in my Shadow Pocket amidst the increasingly shocked and disgruntled gazes of Manilia and Grandpa Lich.

"Interesting choices, Your Grace." Manilia nodded as slowly as she spoke, a satisfied and amused grin spread over her face.

Grandpa Lich on the other hand.

"Take the abyssal armor, Amun." He spat.

I took a deep breath and bit my tongue. While I was free to 'talk back' in privacy, I was certain that he'd be more than displeased if I openly disrespected him before one of his subjects.

Besides, I was far more tactful than that.

So, I bit the bullet and stashed the hulking set of armor and accompanying knife in my shadow without another word.

Despite my aggravation, I felt giddy at the thought of returning to the Tower and putting my toys to use against my Grandfather. Or at the very least, at the idea of reading through the associated pamphlets and testing their features.

But for now, there was other business to attend to. So I turned my gaze back to the Royal Armorer and held up two fingers. "There are two other things that I'm looking for, Manilia."

"And what would those be, Your Grace?" She rubbed her hand together as her grin spread wider than otherwise possible. "If it is in our stock, I shall point His Grace in the proper direction."

"I need mana wells and the potions associated with them." I bluntly stated, looking her close in the eyes. Causing a stir of shock to arise from the woman.

"Mana wells?" She rocked back on her heels, chuckling in bemusement.

"Yes." I nodded. "The highest grades you have."

Hearing my words seemed to create a mix of excitement and disbelief in her. More than once, it appeared as if she wished to say something. Only to close her agape mouth and look off into the distance before turning her gaze back to me and repeating the same motions until she led us to the center of the room.

"I must tell you, Your Grace." She paused to kneel and reveal a trapdoor beneath a rug, then turned back to me. "I am unable to simply give you these wells. They come at a great cost, you see." She again paused to descend a modestly long spiral staircase and gestured around to a moderately-sized, pentagonal room covered wall-to-wall with thick cases of glowing, cylindrical shells. "The highest grade we have is an I-9. Ice wells fetch for one-hundred-thousand gold per." She gestured to a half-filled case to our sides.

"That's fine." I nodded, approaching the case. "As long as they're compatible with a Slush-Well or lower, I'll be buying six." I turned to show her the cluster of wells gathered in my hands before placing them in hers.

Luckily, depositing the coins to her was a simple matter of conjuring some shadow within a chest procured by Manilia and willing the proper amount to be booted from my Shadow Pocket.

Making me 600,000 coins poorer, hardly even a millionaire.

With that, the wells and accompanying potions were safely stored in my umbral dimension for safekeeping. And with thanks to Manilia for her time and excellent service, our party was huddled back in the corridor; the four of us practically skipping behind my Grandfather.

'And now we wait.' I internally sighed in both despair and hope upon our return to the main underground complex.

'And wait and wait and wait.'