Chapter 169. New Plan

Scrying crystals.

They were relics from an earlier generation of mages, back when people thought remote surveillance was worth bankrupting yourself over. The system worked by placing specific runes around whatever area you wanted to monitor. Those runes would capture what was happening and transmit it through mana waves to a network of smaller crystals, which amplified the signal and sent it to the main scrying crystal for display.

The whole setup was expensive, finicky, and not particularly good at its job. The images came through weak and grainy, like looking through muddy water. You couldn't hear anything either, so if you wanted to know what people were saying, you had better be decent at reading lips. Ah, the range was limited too. You could monitor your castle grounds, maybe stretch to the nearby village if you had enough amplifying crystals and didn't mind the massive mana costs. But anything beyond that?

Forget it.

Most old castles had scrying systems installed at some point. The wealthy lords thought it made them clever, being able to watch their gates and courtyards from the comfort of their studies. But maintaining the crystal networks cost a fortune in expensive mana stones, and the results were mediocre at best. The whole thing went out of fashion about ten years ago when newer, more practical security methods became available.

The distance from Morgana's family's main castle to where she'd been hidden during the attack was well within range for a typical scrying network. Close enough for decent image quality, assuming the system had been properly maintained.

In the last few years, Adom had made several discoveries related to runic magic. The breakthrough came from studying the methods Law had used to record his message back in the Giant Highlands. Those ancient runes had shown Adom something that changed everything he thought he knew about magical surveillance.

The transmission runes that sent images to scrying crystals could be modified to store what they captured.

It wasn't supposed to work that way. The runes were designed to transmit, not record. But Adom had eventually figured out how to alter the basic runic structure, turning a simple transmission system into something that could preserve magical imprints of events. The modification was subtle, just three symbol changes in the standard array, but it transformed everything.

If the recording runes were intact, you could recover what they had witnessed. Years later, decades later, it didn't matter. The magical imprint would still be there, waiting.

This meant that if they could find the scrying system from Morgana's family estate, and if someone had known enough to modify the transmission runes in the way Adom now understood, they could potentially recover the events that had happened there fifteen years ago. Every face. Every movement. Every word spoken, assuming you could read lips well enough.

If they could do that...

Adom's first feeling should have been joy. Relief, even. Instead, he felt a guilt he didn't want to address.

Morgana had just told him her story. Fifteen years of pain, rage, and careful planning. Her entire adult life shaped by what had happened to her family. And here he was, whether it could be sugar-coated or not, reinterpreting her fight to make it more palatable. Even to her. To serve his cause.

He was turning her personal hell into evidence. Her thirst for revenge into a legal proceeding. Her desperate need for justice into something that might be useful for his own goals.

What was th–

"How?"

"Huh?"

"How would you recover the proof?"

Morgana looked at him for a long moment.

"I know what you're thinking," she said. "And don't start guilting yourself over this. I've always liked your pragmatism, Adom. This is a relief you're giving me, not some betrayal of my pain. So stop overthinking it and tell me how you'd modify runes in a castle that was put to fire fifteen years ago and then rebuilt."

Adom stared at her, caught completely off guard. He wasn't sure what exactly he should have expected but it was not...this.

Morgana crossed her arms and waited.

"Okay," he said finally. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"A relevant one. People see things sometimes in places where events happened. Old battlefields, execution sites, places where people were murdered. They call them ghost sightings, but a few years ago, I found out there's actually a magical explanation for it."

Morgana's eyebrows rose slightly, but she didn't interrupt.

"You see, mana is an ambient energy that exists everywhere," Adom continued. "It responds to all sorts of events, not just dramatic ones. When something happens in a location, it leaves what I call phantom imprints in the ambient mana. Like a sort of timestamp. These imprints can linger for seventy-five to one hundred years before they dilute back into time and leave the mana completely."

This was according to the Book of Primordial Runes.

"And people can see these imprints?"

"Sometimes. The stronger the event or the more emotionally charged it was, the more visible the phantom becomes to ordinary people. But with the right runes, you can capture and clarify any imprint that's still there."

Morgana was listening intently now, her arms still crossed but her posture leaning forward.

"The key is that the runes have to have been installed before the event occurred," Adom said. "You can't add them after the fact and expect to recover anything. But if your father's castle had a scrying system, and if someone had modified those transmission runes properly..."

"But the castle burned."

"Fire doesn't destroy runes. They're protected from that kind of damage unless they were written in blood, which no competent mage would ever do for permanent installations. Your father's castle was built from enchanted bricks, standard for imperial families in Sundar. Those bricks wouldn't have burned either."

Adom gestured vaguely in the direction of where her family estate would be, somewhere far to the north.

"Other things might have been destroyed in the fire, but not the foundation stones or the structural enchantments. If they rebuilt on the same site and didn't bother hauling away the original bricks, which they probably didn't since enchanted stonework costs a fortune, then the runic framework should still be there."

Morgana stared at him for a moment. "You're telling me you might be able to see what happened to my family."

"If the runes were there before it happened, and if they're still intact, then yes."

Morgana was silent for a long while, staring at something past his shoulder.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in," Adom said. "And I know you shouldn't get your hopes too much up, but we have to try, we have t—"

Morgana laughed. It was a rich, genuine sound that caught him completely off guard.

"Nerd," she said very quietly, almost under her breath.

"What?"

"Transcendent nerd," she said louder, grinning at him. "That was how you and Sam called yourselves, was it not?"

Adom blinked. "Actually, it was our friends from the club who started calling us that. It just kind of stuck after a while."

They both laughed at that, the tension in the room breaking instantly.

"Thank you," Morgana said suddenly, her voice going serious again.

"Morgana—"

"Yes, I know." She dropped her voice to mimic his deeper tone, adding a mock-solemn expression. "'You shouldn't get your hopes too much up.' Is that what you were about to say?"

She laughed again. "It is good to have hope, Adom. And if this could be proved..." She paused, her expression shifting to something more calculating. "Then I could bring my uncle to court without ruining the childhood of innocent children like Ada. Without starting a civil war I am not even certain I would win."

Adom smiled, and Ragna padded over to him, the massive puma pushing his head against his hand. He stroked the midnight fur absently, feeling the rumble of contentment that vibrated through the cat's chest.

"I need to go," he said finally.

"Already?" Morgana asked.

"Classes start again soon. I need to be there before the students notice my absence." He smiled. "I am the titular professor, after all."

"I am not surprised you took that route."

"Well, I'm also a magus, hence this mission from the Magisterium."

"I know," Morgana said. "Youngest magus in the history of the Empire."

Adom looked up from Ragna's fur. "Ah, so you have spies."

"I needed to keep an eye on Sundar. I inquired about you and Sam in all of my reports." She shrugged. "Old habits."

"If you want to reach out to me," Morgana continued, "there's a place in Arkhos. The Gilded Swan tavern, near the merchant quarter. Ask for Lyre. She can relay messages, usually within a month."

"That won't be necessary," Adom said. "I'll send you a spirit. A wind spirit, if I need to relay a message."

Morgana's eyebrows rose. "You are an elementalist as well?"

"No, it's Cyrel's spirit."

Morgana smiled at him, and there was something distinctly mischievous in her expression. "Cyrel. Is that a girl's name?"

Adom sighed. "Look. If I need to talk to you, I will send you a letter through the wind. It will come faster."

"But is Cyrel a girl?" Morgana pressed, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

"It's a long story," Adom said. "Speaking of which, where did you get this thing?" He gestured at the thin metallic lines he'd glimpsed running along her forearms.

"Oh, this." Morgana reached down and scooped up Ragna with casual ease that should have been impossible for someone her size. The massive puma had to weigh at least seven hundred pounds, but she lifted him like he was a house cat, the metal tracery along her arms gleaming as it responded to the strain.

"It's from my chief mage. Brie Nightwhisper."

Adom's expression shifted. That name he knew. Brie had been one of the most brilliant artificers of the last generation, famous for her work during the Mage Wars. She'd developed these strength-enhancing harnesses for regular soldiers, giving them the physical capability to fight alongside mages and Star Knights without being completely outclassed.

The design was elegant in its simplicity. Thin metal channels that followed the body's natural muscle groups, powered by focused mana crystals and controlled through direct neural interface. No body modification required, no permanent changes, just pure magical enhancement that could triple a person's natural strength while they wore it.

The Imperial Army had commissioned hundreds of them during the war, but they'd proven too expensive for mass production. Each harness required weeks of careful crafting and cost more than most soldiers saw in a year of service.

"Where is she?" Adom asked, watching Morgana casually support Ragna's bulk with one arm while the puma looked dignified about the whole situation.

"Another base. She's conducting magical research there, working on simpler versions for my regular soldiers." Morgana adjusted her grip on Ragna, the enhancement responding smoothly to the movement. "Turns out having an army is considerably more expensive than I initially calculated."

Adom stretched, rolling his shoulders to work out the tension from the conversation. He walked over to the window, and Morgana followed, still holding Ragna like he weighed nothing.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

Adom reached into his inventory and pulled out one of the flying swords. The enchanted blade gleamed in the afternoon light streaming through the window.

"Time is of the essence," he said, stepping up onto the windowsill. He turned back to face her, then stepped out into open air, [Levitation] keeping him hovering just outside the window. "If everything goes according to plan, we'll have plenty of time to talk later. Maybe around tea. You could tell me all about your life."

"I'd like that," Morgana said, moving closer to the window. "Tell Sam I said hi."

"Will do."

Adom looked at Ragna, still cradled in Morgana's enhanced grip, and reached out with his druidic abilities.

So long, new friend.

The puma's mental voice rumbled with warmth. Farewell, young warrior. I hope we meet again.

Adom placed the sword beneath his feet, feeling the familiar hum of magical energy as the enchantment responded to his presence. The blade steadied itself in the air, supporting his weight with casual ease.

He looked back at Morgana and grinned. "Cool, right?"

Morgana chuckled. "So cool," she said, and there was gentle teasing in her voice.

"I'd like to meet that mage of yours next time," Adom said, adjusting his balance on the sword.

"Why?"

"You know. Nerd stuff."

"You two would get along on that front," Morgana agreed.

Adom began to rise, the sword carrying him higher into the sky above the fortress. Below, he could see soldiers and workers stopping their tasks to look up at him, hands shading their eyes against the sun.

"Goodbye, Morg," he called down.

"Give my regards to Cyrel!" Morgana called back, laughter clear in her voice.

Adom sighed, but he was smiling as the sword picked up speed, carrying him away from the hidden island and back toward the open ocean. Behind him, Morgana remained at the window, one hand raised in farewell.

The fortress grew smaller beneath him, its concealment fields shimmering back into place until it looked like nothing more than empty ocean stretching to the horizon.