Wizard's Tower - Arc 3 - Chapter 19

Three days passed by in a blur of excited experimenting. I berated myself for being annoyed at the interruption in my plans, as the inspiration I felt from seeing such a powerful monster was more than enough to replace whatever tiny ideas I had beforehand. Feelings of impatience were something I still struggled with often, despite my relative age.

The first experiments with petrification that I tried were all dismal failures, unfortunately. Breaking off a limb and repairing it back using earth manipulation didn’t result in anything positive once the squirrel or rat was unpetrified. The limb would either remain as stone or return to flesh only to slide away from the main body. If it remained stone, it would be stone attached to the body that weighed the creature down and caused it to drag the limb around.  

Further experimentation showed me that any damage to a petrified body was experienced in full once the petrification spell was removed. When I moved an additional limb from one to the other, it created a horrible gory mess—which was still an improvement from my fear that they would turn into an abomination.

Likewise, the addition of more stone to a petrified creature would not provide any additions to their flesh or body once they were unpetrified. The animals that I tested the idea on rarely survived, and the ones that did, screeched in pain. Creatures returned to life with stone melded throughout their bodies in disturbing ways only to die moments later. The only mild success was one squirrel that I had added a stone casing on top of, which was able to return to its normal form only to be promptly crushed by the stone that it had been underneath.

Given that stone was not living, and I could find no magic patterns in the spell that would cause an extension of life, it appeared that petrifying and unpetrifying a person would only halt their aging process at the time of the spell. It wasn’t any true extension of their life at all, but rather a period frozen in time. The lack of success here was a disappointment that might have left me perturbed on any other day, as it was yet another branch of magic that proved unfruitful in regards to furthering my own research into longevity magics. Yet, for these three days, I couldn’t contain my excitement.

I did find that summoning of an earth elemental into the petrified form of a being changed the elemental entirely. I had used a selection of four petrified rats and three petrified squirrels for the experiment and found that each elemental summoned into one exhibited the behaviors and instincts of the animal rather than what I would have expected from an elemental.  The fusion also corrupted the elementals in some way, making it so they did not return to the plane of earth upon destruction.

This had unprecedented possibilities with regards to petrified people, but I was loath to begin experimentation immediately. Would a petrified human possessed by an earth elemental act like a human? Would it retain skills and tiers? If so, then it would be far and above the benefits offered by golem guardians. However - would it retain its human memories? That, that was a line I wasn’t certain of crossing. Even if it could, and I could find a way to heal the moving statues with earth manipulation, I wouldn’t want to curse anyone with that kind of life.

Were humans aware of the world while petrified? I didn’t think they were, but the inclusion of an elemental could change that. I, for one, didn’t want to fathom the idea of being made immortal at the cost of not being able to drink wine again.

Then, there was the experiment where I unpetrified an animal inhabited by an earth elemental. The change was so unusual, I lacked even the words to describe it. I did, however, mark the experiment as something not to repeat. I didn’t imagine any of the gods or goddesses would be pleased in learning that a mere mortal had found a way to create entirely new species.

I pressed forward often with things new ideas and I simply had too many other projects and concerns to remain fixated on just one. For example, the spell I had considered making for nearly a century was prepared and ready to cast. Now was not the proper time to enact that particular plan, but it would be soon enough.

I was much more successful in my experiments remaking the Mirktallean artifact that from dungeon cores. I wasn’t certain what they had named the device but also didn’t have any illusions that it was a good name. The artifact’s function was to gather and store mana from the environment for a mage to draw from, something that allowed them to expand their mana pool. I doubted they called it anything more than a mana reservoir or some other simplistic term.

Of the three dungeon cores I had gathered for it, I only destroyed one in the process of converting them to their new purpose.  That particular one was an error on my part for not knowing where exactly the limitations on mana storing were for the crystals.  I had falsely assumed that since they were prior dungeon cores that they would stop gathering mana when they were filled. While the explosion didn’t harm anything other than my selection of monsterized Astrid Flowers, an experiment I was no longer interested in, the loss of one of the crystals was an annoyance.  

So it was, that once I had created the other two artifacts in more durable form, that I provided them with a proper name. Something that would echo in the annuls of history. That was how the Illustrious Core-touched Mana Fountains of Superlative Arcane Might were created.

I captured one of the mushroom men from my dungeon, since their war was long over. Or, perhaps captured might be too strong of a word, as the little creature had volunteered with exuberance. They had divided into two castes now, with one caste growing Asrid Flowers from their heads or backs like strange hair.  Yet, it was one of the normal ones, the apparent winners of the war who now commanded the others that I took. It had irked me that I had to wait for one to pass away before dissecting it, and I tired of the wait.

For such small creatures, they lived a seemingly long life. Which meant, beyond my normal curiosity, that their tiny bodies might hold a key to understanding longevity. Not that I would accept being transformed into a mushroom man any more than I would accept being turned into a statue, but that was beside the point. Unfortunately, the corpse didn’t reveal any answers in that regard. It did provide me with a much more thorough understanding of mushroom anatomy, and I was able to record several new types of previously unknown organs.

Yet, as with all good things, my time experimenting didn’t last as long as I would have liked it to. After three days, I had to prepare myself for travel yet again. This time, the destination was the town Gold Castle in the Barony of Aide, where Count Wilchrest’s marriage to Baroness Nix was to take place. Why they had chosen that location beyond it being a site of a military victory was beyond me. I would have held mine in the biggest city possible with the most extensive ceremony I could afford.  I’m certain they had their reasons, but those reasons were beyond me—and by beyond me, I mean that I didn’t care enough about them to stop and attempt to discern why.

I did stop and put due consideration into my gift to the couple, though, and had designed a set of rings that held an enchantment given to me by Baron Froom a while ago. With his understanding of the Baroness exceeding my own, and the weight of change from the coming end of age pressing down on us all, I needed to prepare a gift that would not only be beneficial to the couple but also easily transportable should the need arise.

It was as I was thinking the matter through, that I came across my idea. Baroness Nix’s age and time spent adventuring left doubts as to whether she would be able to produce an heir. It was likely a matter the couple had completely disregarded while in the maddening throws of love, or perhaps an arrangement that could be met by secret concubines. I doubted the Baroness had failed to consider the matter. So, I had crafted two rings of swirling amber, each holding half of a fertility spell. The same spell that I had been gifted as a solution to my own infertility.

I had, of course, made several changes. The spell wouldn’t function except between the two of them, and it would only function once a year. In truth, it was one of the most powerful enchantments I had ever wrought into such small things. I had them packed into an ornate box, with a hand-written note. The note explained the effects and was written in as fine of a penmanship as I had ever used. I hoped that this gift would exceed whatever Baron Froom offered on the sheer basis of its continued utility, the kind of gift that could become a unique family heirloom.

I dined once more, a succulent meal of roasted flame boar and buttered peas paired with plum wine, before I departed from the roof of my tower. It was early into an evening and a cool western breeze flew down from the mountains. The cloudless night let the evanescence of a field of stars light my way. Two of my gargoyles accompanied me on the flight, the recent memory of a swarm of wyverns still very fresh.