After signing the contract, Arthur provides Emily with several mental crystals packed with information on her targets, from their known strengths and weaknesses to their current locations. The level of detail in his reports is impressive, and Emily’s plan of action rapidly comes together.

With the important business out of the way, Arthur relaxes into his seat, taking on a friendly, curious smile that Mensacus confirms as genuine.

“So, once the contract is complete and you settle down, do you have any interesting plans?” the king asks. “I take it you didn’t only want to return to clear your name.”

“It was one of my main objectives, but yes, I have some ideas,” Emily replies as she wordlessly offers to return the spent mental crystals before tucking them into her belt when the king waves her off. “I’d like to take another trip into The Glade, and I want to visit a few of your permanent dungeons to see what makes them so different from the few temporary ones I’ve completed.”

“Would you be willing to share your findings with us? We have the accounts your friends wrote about The Abyss you found, but I haven’t had the resources to send a proper expedition down to try and find it yet.”

“Sure. I have no problem writing up some notes for you, but I wouldn’t send people looking if I were you. I’m only confident to return now, thanks to my recent ascension, and I was confident in killing fourth circle mages long before that.”

“It’s that bad?”

“Mensacus was formed from a small fragment of it, and you can see what I’ve made him into in only a few years. What do you think?”

***

At just past midday, when the sun hangs over the city, beating down on the metal-lined streets, Emily and Arthur finish their conversation over an assorted platter of cured magical beast meats. The food floats out from behind the fireplace, and Emily happily accepts the meal, silently wondering if the Salvia family informed the king of her food choice at the ball before her first expedition.

“So, they can eat like normal?” Arthur questions, watching Silica clean up the last scraps of meat as they all rise from their seats.

“Yes, but they don’t need to,” Emily explains, picking up the yawning young fox and handing her to her brother. “Both of them have the ability to perfectly break down anything they consume into mana to fuel themselves, but they can also feed off atmospheric mana and mana crystals as well, so food isn’t a requirement. Mensacus has the added option of feeding off the deaths of those around him, but that’s more for growth and pleasure than survival now.”

“Right,” Arthur muses, casting a cautious gaze towards the mechanical chimaera in question, whose gaping black eyes have never left him since the start of the meeting.

The king leads them back out into the entrance hall and towards another of the portraits hanging from the walls, this one depicting a man who appears to be in his fifties, with an uncanny resemblance to Arthur. His title, the first king, is boldly embossed on a golden plaque below. The painting swings out of the way to reveal a long, narrow corridor lined with sconces topped with burning magical flames.

The corridor winds through the palace, and they take a few turns before climbing down a set of stairs that end in tall wooden double doors. As Arthur approaches, he snaps his fingers and the doors swing open, letting them get a clear view into the cosy-looking library with rows of shelves piled high with poorly-organised books.

Emily recognises the preservation enchantments woven into every surface holding books and, as they step through the threshold, she can taste a slight rise in humidity.

“Miss Forsythia,” the king calls in a commanding tone, setting off a flurry of movement between the stacks. “We have guests.”

A familiar head of wavy golden hair, twice as long as when Emily last saw it, peeks out from between two shelves. Jenny’s eyes widen when she meets Emily’s, and a warm smile quickly overtakes her features.

“Emily!” she beams, stepping out and revealing the tight black and gold robes hugging her figure, with a matching golden crest of wheat-like petals pinned to her chest. “It’s good to see you again. I hear you’ve been off toppling kingdoms. Agnes is very jealous.”

“Is she now?” Emily replies with an amused tone despite no change in her expression. “I hear you’ve succeeded in your research. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Jenny says, tempering her expression as she drinks in Emily’s changed appearance and lack of emotion, noticing her metal arm and the imposing pressure she exudes along with her strange entourage. “I couldn’t have done it without your help. Your account was invaluable.”

Emily nods, noticing the woman’s eyes lingering on the unfamiliar gathering behind her, and steps aside to introduce them.

“This is my apprentice, Pod, and my kids, Mensacus and Silica,” she says, gesturing to each of them in turn.

Jenny greets them, receiving no response from the sleeping fox, before narrowing her eyes on Mensacus.

“Is he…”

“You can tell?” Emily questions, raising her brow. “Yes, he’s a mental mage. I created him from a mind-twisting curse, and he’s retained a high affinity for the element.”

“That’s perfect! If we have a fourth circle mental mage on our side, we should be able to free everyone who was enslaved without even wiping out the families they’re bound to. That was the final problem I hadn’t yet been able to solve.”

Jenny turns and vanishes back into the stacks before anyone can respond, returning within a few seconds with a book clutched to her chest.

“I assume that’s why you brought her here, right, Sir?” she asks, checking with the king before handing her research over.

“Correct.” Arthur nods, standing to the side of the door they entered through and watching without any intention of interfering. “I’ve hired Emily here to put your work into practice.”

“Good,” Jenny says, letting more than a little venom bleed into her tone as she gives Emily the book to rapidly scan through and continues to explain. “As I’m sure you know, I don’t have an affinity for the element myself. Instead, I managed to create a ritual counter-spell to release a target from their binds. Unfortunately, the ritual makes up for a lack of power and control by picking on the only weakness I was able to create in the spell: the bloodline lock. After the entire family line, those directly related to the caster by blood, have been wiped out, the spell goes into a sort of automated panic mode where it tries to select the next closest relative. My ritual preys on that destabilisation to rip the spell to shreds, but if your son has enough raw power, he should be able to target the clause dictating the ability to resist with enough strength instead.”

Emily nods in understanding, coming to the same conclusion as she finishes reading through Jenny’s in-depth analysis of the spell and its self-created weaknesses. She passes the book back to Jenny before turning to face her son.

“You may want to look away for this,” she says, staring at the closed eyelid in the centre of Mensacus’ forehead. “Or at least avoid looking into the light.”

Arthur and Jenny don’t have time to question her vague warning before Mensacus opens his glowing third eye, bathing Emily in its chilling light. She doesn’t flinch, lowering her mental defences and letting him in without any fear as she isolates all the information gained and deduced from Jenny’s notes before pushing it towards the new connection.

It only takes a fraction of a second before Mensacus shuts his eye again, drawing a stream of understanding directly into his mind.

“Wh- What was that?” Jenny asks, shaking her head to clear the haze that has settled over her mind.

“His third eye. It acts as a focus for his mental magic in particular, but he’s still learning to control it properly,” Emily explains, massaging her brows as an aching pain settles deep in her mind. “He just used it for a spell he’s developing, Thought Transfer, that allows us to trade memories and understanding directly. Currently, it requires the help of the target to isolate the thoughts he wants. He needs more practice before he can steal thoughts without consent.”

A look of horror forms on Jenny’s face as she looks between Emily and her son, and Arthur shifts uncomfortably behind them. Emily hears his heartbeat speed up ever so slightly and doesn’t need Mensacus to tell her that the king has started to regret his decision to fuel her exploration of the taboo as her gaze scans the small, cosy library.

If they have more material on mental magic here, maybe we can finish a few of his spells. We’ll have plenty of test subjects to experiment on soon. I might finally manifest mental despite my pitiful affinity.

***

Emily and her group leave the palace not long later and step onto a platform of solid air that carries them towards the nearby Dome. Arthur has assured her that, despite marking her as a wanted criminal, he never had her mana signature expunged from their records, and she still has basic access rights to The Covenant’s facilities.

They land on one of the walkways connected to the edge of the large structure and approach one of the familiar phasing doors, and it vanishes under Emily’s touch with no problem.

“So,” Pod says as they walk down a stark white corridor, looking around at the plain walls. “You think I’m the first non-mage in here?”

“I doubt it,” Emily replies, ignoring the exaggerated sigh he gives in response. “Plenty of houses have unawakened servants, and they’ve got to have sent some of them into The Dome on errands before, even if I never saw any in my admittedly short time here.”

“What a shame. You took the first mechanic title too.”

“You can take the title of first unwanted straggler,” Mensacus whispers, surprising Emily enough to crack her blank expression as he makes what she thinks is a joke.

“Damn,” Pod exclaims dramatically, clutching at his heart. “Will you ever like me?”

They reach the transportation circle at the end of the hallway without meeting another soul, and Emily gestures for everyone to stand close. Pod places a hand on her right shoulder, and Mensacus wraps his tentacles around her left, still gently cradling the sleeping Silica against his chest.

She activates the circle, and after a quick warping of space, they appear in a closed transportation room attached to the information hub. Opening the door, they step out into the hub, drawing all eyes to them as neither Emily nor Mensacus tries to hide their overwhelming mana signatures.

Pod looks around the room in awe, but Emily’s focus is fixed on the stunned mages looking at them. She scans the room in an instant, picking out the crests of several families on her hit list. With a subtle flex of her mana, she burns a runic marking onto the inside of each of their robes, making it impossible to lose them no matter where they go.

A few of her more sensitive targets feel something warm brush against their mana, but none of them are strong enough to work out what; not even the single third circle mage she marks, who frowns and starts patting his legs like they’re burning.

Emily strides towards one of the counters, watching people scramble out of the way to let her pass as more than a few of their eyes light up with recognition and fear. A quiet muttering breaks out throughout the hall.

“H- Hello, how can I help you?” a first circle clerk behind the counter asks, doing her best to ignore the sweat building on her brow as she holds Emily’s gaze.

“I’d like to reregister and clear my affiliation, please,” Emily answers, pulling out a blank golden crest Arthur gave her to replace the old Mandrago ones she lost in the oasis’ explosion.

“Of course,” the clerk nods, her eyes widening as they fall on the blank crest before she scrambles to grab the correct tools from below her desk. “And what would your new house be called?”

“Coldstone.”

A commotion spreads through the hall, with the muttered conversations morphing into a distracting clamour as Emily declares herself without taking a new noble name and title. It quickly falls silent, however, when Emily’s eyes and skin shift, taking on a metallic sheen as the crest in her hand ripples, transforming the front surface to depict a gear wreathed in crackling lightning.

“Oh, and I’ll need three child crests created, all golden,” she says while releasing her metal connection, gesturing to the three behind her with her head. “I need to register them as mine as well.”