Edge Cases

Whatever they'd done to engage with the Patchers seemed to have thrown off their plans, if they were capable of having plans at all. As far as Derivan could tell, they didn't return to whatever plans they'd had with the mana slivers; instead, the shifted presence he felt fled, roughly in the direction of the road back to Fendal.

Which he was concerned about, admittedly, but the time variance between Fendal and Teque gave them enough leeway to talk and figure out exactly what was going on.

"I'm waiting," Helg said, folding her arms. The wasp woman didn't seem like she was going to just let them go. Her companions sighed at her brusqueness, but didn't argue with her.

"It is our job to know," the beetle-man told them, sounding somewhat apologetic.

"Why don't we go find Noram, first?" Sev suggested smoothly, stepping between Derivan and the holes Helg seemed to be trying to glare into his helmet. Derivan wasn't sure exactly what issue she'd taken with him, but she certainly seemed offended by him in some way. Perhaps it was the fact that he'd apparently been able to do magic without using mana.

...In fact, he could sense a spark of aggression even in her companions, though they seemed much more amiable. They seemed suspicious when they looked upon him.

"Why should we do that?" Helg asked. She lowered her hood and raised a metaphorical eyebrow at him, one antennae twitching above the other. "He's a busy man. Otter. We don't need to bother him."

"Because if we don't do that we're going to need to explain this more than once," Sev said with a sigh. He glanced around at the rest of his party, and they all nodded in agreement — Helg stared at them suspiciously, then finally gave an assenting nod.

"Don't try anything," she said sharply.

"You know we've already met Noram, right?" Misa asked, folding her arms. "We met him while he was taking a nap. If we wanted to do anything—"

"You would've been cut down by the spells he puts around himself when he's asleep," Helg interrupted. Vex opened his mouth to protest, then seemed to think the better of that, snapping it shut and looking away instead; the waspish lady flicked her gaze to him anyway, sharp eyes landing on the lizardkin. "Got something to say, lizard?"

"His name is Vex," Derivan said, sounding a touch more protective than he had intended.

"I don't care," Helg said.

"He didn't have any defenses up," Vex said quietly. "I would've seen them. Just a basic alarm trigger connected to the stairs."

Helg stared at him for a moment — long enough that the weight of her gaze became uncomfortable for the lizardkin, and he took a slight step backwards. She seemed to soften just slightly at that, though there was still a distinct sort of aggression set into her body.

"Then he's an idiot and needs to be taught a lesson again," she said shortly. "But we'll see, won't we?"

Without another word, Helg began marching back towards the center of the city; presumably, towards wherever Noram had decided to hole up for his nap. Her ladybug companion started hurrying after her, casting an apologetic glance back at them, and the beetle moved last of all.

"I am sorry about her," he said. "She is connected deeply to the mana. It is... uncomfortable, at times. It tunes her to its emotions."

"Is the mana... angry?" Vex asked quietly. The question seemed important to him.

"It is agitated," the beetle-mage replied after a slight pause. "Which is another part of what has been plaguing our city of late, though you will not hear many speak of it. The mana is celebrated here, a force that supports the thriving of our peoples. Few here will admit to anything being wrong with it."

"But you will?" Misa challenged.

"I say things as I see them," the beetle-mage replied. He bowed slightly towards her. "My name is Anton. The other mage is named Unea. We have not introduced ourselves, I realize; I hope this does not cause offense."

"I mean... no?" Misa answered, glancing around awkwardly when she realized he was talking specifically to her. "I'm not the leader here or anything, y'know."

"Ah," Anton said. "I apologize. You are quite beautiful, you see."

"Oh my god," Sev said, muffling a laugh. Misa looked... mostly unimpressed, though she glanced over Anton, as though judging how capable he would be in a fight.

"Hurry up already!" Helg called back after them, and Anton gestured for them to follow him.

"He wasn't kidding about being direct," Sev muttered as he followed. Derivan fell into step beside Vex, even as Misa shook her head.

"Weird timing for a compliment," she grumbled.

It didn't take long for them to find Noram.

What did take much longer than it should have was waking the otter up. The first time, he'd woken up as soon as they'd begun to climb up the stairs of the tower, presumably triggering some automatic detection he'd rigged. This time, he'd done the opposite — he was sleeping on a glyph that he'd painted onto the floor. In a very, very abstract way, Derivan thought the glyph looked rather like it was shaped like an otter sleeping on a bed.

Which was, to be fair, exactly what the otter was doing. A glowing bed made of blue magic rested beneath him, and he was curled up in it, as comfortable as could be; a dome surrounded him, a perfect shield through which Helg was apparently attempting to break with a death stare, judging by the intensity of it.

"He's got his personal Sign up," the ladybug-mage — Unea, Derivan remembered — said.

"I can see that," Helg growled. She stalked over and kicked the dome. "Wake up!"

"He cannot hear you," Anton told her.

"I know that," Helg hissed.

"Um," Vex ventured, and all three of the mages looked at him. "What do you mean, personal Sign?"

Helg stared for a moment, then threw her hands up. "I'm leaving," she said. "You two can handle this. Call me when Noram wakes up."

Sev opened his mouth, like he was about to say something snarky — Derivan could practically see the sass forming in his throat — but he seemed to reconsider at the last moment. "Is she alright?" he asked instead. He glanced at Anton. "You said something about her connection with the mana agitating her. That can't be pleasant."

"It is not," Anton acknowledged. "But there is little that can be done. Given time, she can work her way past it, but it has been... difficult, here, for the past few months." Now Anton seemed uncertain. "It is odd how different this place has been in that time."

"What do you mean?" Sev asked.

"I remember this place being much more alive," Anton said. "But when the Roads deactivated, many people seemed to lose a spark. For weeks, people did not speak at all, simply following a routine; I was among them, and I did not think it strange at the time, though I do now."

"That changed when the first set of mana slivers was stolen," Vex said, and Anton glanced at him. The beetle-mage's mandibles folded together in a sort of frown.

"...That is correct." Anton looked over the lizardkin carefully. "Do you know something about this?"

"No," Vex shook his head, and then he hesitated. "Maybe. I don't... I don't know, exactly. That's why I want to know what a personal Sign is."

"You forgot about his question, ya dingus," Unea finally spoke up. "Was wonderin' when you'd notice."

"Ah," Anton said. He had the courtesy to sound contrite. "My apologies."

"Each an' every one of us gets at least one personal Sign," Unea said. "Issa personal thing. You grow your relationship with mana, learn somethin' about yerself, and bam! You find a Sign. Somethin' that represents you. You gotta learn more about it, and grow it, and it becomes stronger over time."

"And Noram's is... for sleeping?" Sev asked, glancing at the otter, still snoring peacefully in his dome.

"He's one of them lucky motherfuckers that got more than one personal Sign," Unea snorted. "I'm thinkin' he got that one after he became Archmage an' all. Needed more sleep. He deserves it, the poor fella."

"I can't believe he got one just for sleeping," Sev muttered, staring at the dome.

"Can personal Signs be used by others?" Derivan asked. Unea blanched a little bit at the question, and Anton used the opportunity to respond.

"Once they are discovered, then yes, although most guard their Signs jealously," Anton said. "It is an expression of who they are. But it is in the nature of art to want to be shared and looked upon, so in truth, it is not difficult to copy such Signs. It is simply that it is considered taboo to do so."

"Can Signs be combined?" Vex asked, almost too soft to hear.

"They can, but combinin' them is about as hard as breakin' glitterstone," she said, apparently glad to have something to talk about other than the idea of using someone else's personal Sign. "They don't gotta be no one's personal Signs to do that, either."

"And breaking glitterstone is... hard?" Vex tried.

"Very," Unea said, nodding seriously. "Glitterstone is about as hard as yilrite, it is."

"I see," Vex said. Derivan had no idea what yilrite was, and he doubted Vex did either, but the lizardkin only glanced at him contemplatively. He looked like wanted to say something, but was second guessing himself.

After a second, though, resolve hardened in his eyes. "I think you might have... figured out my Sign for me, Deri."

"I did?" Derivan asked, surprised.

"When you cast your spell," Vex said softly. "The barrier was yours, but the book... that was mine, I think. When the Patchers were attacking it, it felt like the spell was trying to understand what they were doing. Logging them, studying them the way I would, feeding the information back to me."

"That should not be possible," Anton commented with a frown. "If your friend was able to cast such a spell, he should have received that information, not you. And there is no precedent for being able to discover someone else's personal Sign for them."

Vex didn't look convinced. "It's what happened," he said.

"Maybe you were imaginin' things, hon?" Unea tried. "It does happen sometimes—"

"If he says that is what happened," Derivan interrupted. "Then I am inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt."

Vex shot him a grateful look, and there was something else in his eyes; a little bit of his usual anxiety, certainly, but also a strange bit of sureness. "I don't know how, but I think he did figure out the combined Sign," he said.

"We'd have to see it in action," Unea finally said.

"I'd like to see it in action, too," Noram said, and they all startled, turning to look at the wizard. The little otter let out a yawn, stretching and pulling tiny fists above his head. "That was a good nap. Didn't think I'd wake up to see you all here, though."

"I'll go get Helg," Anton said with a sigh.

"Go on," Noram said, nodding at Derivan. The armor hesitated for a moment, but eventually called on the mana again, guiding it to his gauntlet; once again, he drew the book-shield glyph he'd come upon just the previous night. Noram stared at it contemplatively, even when the shield formed in front of Derivan.

Then, without warning — and without Noram really moving at all — mana darted in front of him, flowing rapidly into a glyph that looked to be a terrible combination of open maw and sharp fang; what rushed forward from it wasn't so much a physical spell as it was the impression of something gnashing. Yet Derivan felt with certainty that anything in front of that psychic impression would be shredded to pieces —

— It struck his shield and shattered, psychic teeth flying everywhere. At the same time, Vex grimaced slightly, and then his mouth opened and he blinked, staring at Noram.

"If you're right about what that spell does," Noram said, "then you're probably right about whatever else you figured out from that spell. "

Vex nodded, seeming to take a moment to breathe. "I'll tell you what I know."