Chapter 11: Knowledge is Power, Also Heavy

Julia’s face was knitted in fierce concentration… maybe a little too fierce, judging by the fine sheen of sweat on her brow and the deep creases forming around her eyes. It was clear the task demanded everything she had.

We stood in a strange, hybrid space: part alchemy lab, part archive. The air itself smelled of old parchment and sharp, ozonic potions. The only occupants were Julia, myself, and Inquisitor Agnes, who stood with her palm pressed firmly against Julia’s back.

“Yes, that’s it. Don’t lose focus now,” Agnes instructed in a steady voice. “Hold onto that first sensation, it’s the exhalation of authority. No doubt. Just push your mana steadily into the heart.”

The heart in question lay before Julia, pulsating with a dull, metallic gold. Her fingers hovered just above it, and from them poured a turbulent, hazy energy that shimmered around the organ. That had to be her mana.

[Correct.]

And since my chatty trait wasn’t alerting me to any active spells, she wasn’t casting anything right now, just this raw, quiet expulsion of pure energy from her fingertips.

[Correct again.]

I gave a silent nod as my attention was fixed on the process. It was fascinating, and I have a particular fondness for fascinating things.

Where Julia’s mana made contact, the heart’s golden hue was slowly, very slowly, being overtaken by a faint azure blue. The progress was painfully incremental. I kept watching, noting that only after roughly five percent of the organ had changed color did Inquisitor Agnes finally tell her to stop. Julia was utterly drenched in sweat, her clothes clinging to her as she slumped back into her chair, fully spent.

“That was,” she rasped, “so much harder than I imagined.”

Agnes chuckled softly. “Which is why the Captain gave you a week. Work at it. And remember, this is just the first of two organs you must assimilate to become a proper Sun cultivator.” She gave an approving nod. “You’re fortunate to have such a deep well of mana to draw from. You should see how the average person manages this. They require mana potions just to meet the basic threshold, and those don’t come cheap.”

“You might think one could just expend their mana and wait for their soul world to replenish itself naturally, that it would only take more time. But it’s… never that simple.” She gestured toward the heart, and I saw it: the faint azure sections were already receding, slowly bleeding back into gold. “The organ resists your influence. It fights back. That’s why you can’t work in fits and starts. If you leave it too long, you’ll be starting over completely.”

Julia nodded weakly. “I knew the theory, the intricacies. But I didn’t expect actual cultivation to feel so… dormant.” Her expression then shadowed and a deep sadness settled on it. “Back in that sanctum, my mother had me forcibly take these exotic organs and graft them into people. We were called Surgeons. We had advanced knowledge of anatomy, and I… I always believed that knowledge could be used for something better. And yet…” Her hands trembled as she stared down at them. “I wish… I just wish…”

She couldn’t finish, but Agnes’s hand was already on her shoulder. “You know why you’re here, don’t you? Even when your mind starts spiraling down into that well of misery, convinced of your own damnation?”

Agnes’ hand flared, silver flames racing across Julia in a blink. Julia didn’t so much as flinch as her eyes still distant and unfocused.

“The Lord’s flames burn those they deem evil and irredeemable,” Agnes said evenly. “What you did in the past was how you were raised. But the moment you truly saw the face of your own actions, you rebelled. That’s not the work of a heart gone rotten, that’s the act of someone who was misled, lied to, and betrayed. So, purge those thoughts again, Inquisitor Julia.”

Her blue eyes sharpened. “Your life is now a clean slate. And that self-doubt you’re nurturing will eat you alive if you let it.”

The silver flames died away as Agnes withdrew her hand, resting it gently atop Julia’s head. “Don’t mistake me for heartless. We all have a story. Every inquisitor in these halls wasn’t indoctrinated from birth. Each one was a person whose normal life was ripped apart by forces of the dark, things far beyond their grasp. They swore an oath to never let innocents witness such a terrible fate again. That is what sets us apart from those who simply break.”

Her voice softened just slightly. “You, Julia, you never broke. And that is what makes you one of us.”

Julia closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and nodded. “I’m sorry for bringing it up again.”

“Feeling better now?”

A faint smile. “Yes. Should we start again?”

Agnes reached for a bronze box, flipping it open and producing a small vial. “Replenish your mana reserves if you feel yourself running too low.”

“I doubt I’ll need it anytime soon. I’ve still got more than half my mana left.”

“Alright then,” Agnes conceded with a nod. “Let’s go through this one more time. This will be the last time I guide you so directly, just enough for you to understand the process instinctively. Agreed?”

Julia nodded again, eyes closing as her focus returned.

I hopped down from the table, figuring this would take a while. Agnes was occupied, Julia was locked in concentration, looked like the perfect window for some exploring.

My gaze drifted to the shelves. Bottles of alchemical liquids sat neatly between rows of books, like an armory of oddly-colored potions.

I wondered which one was the most slippery.

[Don’t pause for me. I cannot scan the contents of sealed vials. Perhaps if we can find any manuals detailing their brewing. I can, however, read the labels on them.]

Oh yeah, that reminded me. Didn’t you say you can read any language?

[Yes. And this is the same script you saw on the books in Julia’s shelf earlier.]

My gaze snapped toward the shelves of books. I glanced back at Agnes and Julia, they were definitely going to be busy for a while.

Which book do you think would be most beneficial? I don’t really want to comb through all of them. There are titles on every spine; see if anything sounds immediately useful.

[Hmm… most of these look like alchemical recipes. A few charm-making manuals… and some hymn books for something called a Solar Deacon. I’m guessing that has to do with their abilities. Quite the mixed bag.]

I kept moving along the shelves, taking in as many titles as I could, hoping something worthwhile would pop up.

[Hoh, there! That one looks like a record of the Sun Aspect and the abilities it grants. Grab it and flip through as fast as you can.]

It was high up, well out of easy reach for someone my size. No problem. I leapt through the open space at the end of the shelf, landed silently on the top, and clamped my jaws around the cover of the massive book. A quick tug, and it was free. My size didn’t really advertise my strength, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Easy.

“How fast are we talking?” I asked.

[As fast as you can. One fleeting glimpse of each page is enough.]

I set the book upright, braced a paw on its edge, and began flipping through page after page. My little paws didn’t exactly make the job graceful, but it got done.

When the final page slid back into place, I carefully set the book down flat on the shelf.

[That’ll do. Hm. Not as comprehensive as I’d hoped. Seems they only have records up to Tier 3. These are handwritten notes from a Solar Deacon, that’s the Tier 3 title. Tier 1 is Solar Mage, Tier 2 is Dawn Bearer. Nevertheless, it is valuable data.]

Well, at least we’d gained something. Knowledge was power, after all. And given that the sun’s power seemed to consider me an entity of some, uh, concern, it was prudent to understand the tools of those who wielded it. Which was funny, considering I was quite literally under their noses right now and they thought I was some kind of Sun-blessed demon. I was more than happy to perpetuate their delusion; a good prank requires commitment.

Now I had a framework for their capabilities, at least up to the highest tier I'd yet encountered. Tier 3. First the Rose Shepherd, and now this Solar Deacon.

Could you give me a general overview of what this Aspect actually does?

[Starting out, they can summon holy fire to purge corruption and heal the ‘pure.’ Their bodies strengthen, and they can imbue weapons with Solar energy for extra damage against anyone deemed evil or vile. At higher tiers, they gain more elaborate spells, buffs for allies, and generally become more dangerous to anything the Sun decides is unworthy. The book also contains, uh… anecdotal accounts of these abilities in use, along with theoretical assumptions that were later corrected. The format resembles a personal journal later annotated by a more experienced practitioner.]

I nodded and kept browsing. A few spines later, Trickery flagged another find — this one on the Moon Aspect.

It was shelved low. Convenient. I dragged it onto the floor and got to work, repeating the process: page after page, each getting a quick snapshot from my eyes while Trickery sifted through the contents.

[Hmm, the Moon Aspect has a more nuanced and esoteric path compared to the straightforward nature of the Sun. Its foundation is the concept of a 'tether' and the mysticism of rituals and subtle magics. Cultivators do not gain the same raw physical strength as Sun cultivators; instead, their focus is on expanding their mana reserves significantly. Even at Tier 0, starting as a [Moon Shaman], they can perform minor ritualistic magics and a handful of spells. A primary offensive ability allows them to project beams of mana to disorient targets, inducing a variety of effects based on the caster's intent, such as putting them to sleep, inducing agitation or frenzy, or even causing... uh, tummyaches or diarrhea?]

How… delightfully petty.

[The main emphasis here, however, is on the rituals they can perform. While the names of several rituals are listed, I lack the specific details on their functions. There may be another book here that elaborates on those. Also another thing, this text only details Tiers 1 and 2; there is no information on what a Tier 3 Moon Aspect cultivator might be capable of.]

Well, something was decidedly better than nothing. At least now I had a foundational idea to make an educated choice. I slid the Moon Aspect book back, filing away the mental notes.

A little more wandering brought me to my third find: Chain Aspect. No clue what I’d get from this one, but Trickery picked it up quickly. The books on this subject were sparsely placed on the upper shelves, which at least made for easier climbing for a fox of my stature. Repeating the same efficient process, I was done with it soon enough.

[Alright, Tier 1’s called Chainbinder. Name fits, they can manifest mana into invisible chains. At least invisible to normal eyes. These can restrict movement and enforce simple rules on whoever’s caught in them, stuff like: You can’t lie or You can’t cross this line.]

Restrictive, huh.

[They can also form simple contracts. Not unbreakable, but breaking one comes with a sharp backlash. And they can set up a ‘territory’ an anchored zone where their chains are stronger. That’s all this book had, apart from journal entries describing encounters with a tier 1 [Chainbinder] and a few incidents likely involving one. This is only Tier 1, so I doubt they possess any recorded knowledge on the higher tiers of this Aspect. At least not here.]

I didn't have time to ask for specifics; a general idea would have to suffice for now. At least now I had a decent idea of what to expect from each Aspect. Honestly, all three sounded fine, but one thing stood out, these journals were clearly written with a human user in mind. And I, inconveniently, was a small fox. Not sure how well I’d pull off ritual work or spell weaving with paws.

That’s when I spotted it. A strange book tucked on the shelf, bound in an ugly black cover, looking far older than anything else here. The text was so faded it might as well have been invisible.

Can you read it?

[Not really. But be gentle if you want a look.]

I nodded and leapt up. It was also high enough that I had to climb onto the shelf itself. I had just reached the top when a voice called out across the chamber.

“Clover?”

Oh, great, Julia was already done.

“It’s not time for hide and seek. We’ve got important work to do. Come out like a good girl!”

I hmphed internally. Hide and seek? Please. I was on a noble pursuit of knowledge today, thank you very much. A proper, intelligent fox on scholarly business. Still, I tucked myself a little deeper on top of the shelf, grinning as Julia’s footsteps drew near.

And, like fate wanted to help me, there was a hefty book sitting right under my paws.

“Clov-” She didn’t finish. The moment she came into view, I hurled the tome at her.

It hit her shoulder instead of her head. Damn. Missed. But she still jumped and yelped an ouch-ouch-ouchie, which was a moral victory.

Agnes strolled up next, and my paw closed on another heavy volume. I lobbed it at the unsuspecting inquisitor, only for her to snatch it out of the air with a blur of movement, not even glancing up.

Then she did look up, wearing a smug little smile.

I threw another book. She caught that one too.

Alright. I had a new challenge now, one smug Inquisitor who needed pranking hard. Hard enough to wipe that grin right off her face.