Chapter 360: The Challenges of Faith

“I…no, no I don’t want to go,” Carey said, with a hint of iron in her voice. “Everyday the Heroes and our army fight monsters across the land. They stay in the fight. They persevere. What right do I have to scurry off like a scared little mouse? I could never face my family ever again.” She looked directly at the alchemy professor.

Jules looked back at her for a long, silent moment. Then she closed her eyes and drew a breath so deep, her body shook.

“Miss London,” she measured her words. “I strongly recommend that both you and Mr. Roth return to campus. It won’t be for long, but until we determine if you’ll be safe here, I think you should step back. You can still work with the expedition on the Generasi side of things. In time, we’ll be bringing samples back to the Cells for processing, further experimentation, and prototyping. You could both make your contribution there. Any thoughts, Mr. Roth?”

“No thanks,” Alex said. “I get what you’re saying, Professor Jules, and I know you’re trying to keep us safe. But…I think I’d be more useful here on site, and one reason, ironically enough, is because I’m Thaemish. I’ve also got Claygon, and I can handle myself, and Baelin won’t always be here to break dungeons across his knee, which means we’ll need all hands on deck.”

“We have plenty of Watchers,” Professor Jules countered. “Your help is appreciated, Mr. Roth, but…” She turned to Baelin. “Tell them what you told me.”

The chancellor’s nostrils flared. “There might be a chance that you two could be hunted for this discovery. Those images that were revealed when you took control of the core—”

“—I saw something too!” Carey cried, turning to Alex. “What did you see?”

“Uh…” He looked at Baelin, who nodded and remained silent. “Well, it was strange. These images of monsters and places I’d never seen before suddenly flashed into my head. They were only there briefly, though.”

“By Uldar, I think we saw the same thing, and what I saw only lasted for a few seconds too!” she said. “What does it all mean?”

“Well,” Baelin said. “It could mean that there’s a degree of communication between dungeon cores. Perhaps you saw images of other dungeons, considering there were monsters in what you both experienced. That could indicate the presence of some hivemind or communication apparatus existing between dungeon cores.”

He looked at Carey solemnly. “In full disclosure, if I were this Ravener and I knew someone had discovered how to control my dungeon cores—the means of producing my soldiers…my armies—I would stop at nothing to ensure that individual was eliminated. I am not saying this to scare you, but before you make a decision…I feel you should know what you could be up against.”

Carey paused. Sat up a little taller in her chair. “Thank you ever so much for that, Chancellor Baelin, but…I still want to see this through. There’s…I have so many questions now. How can I leave when they’re yet to be answered?”

“Exactly,” Alex agreed. “I’m staying too. And hell, we’ve got a castle here with some of the best trained combat wizards in the world. This might be the safest place in all of Thameland.”

“I…I think so too,” she said, her lower lip trembling ever so slightly. The determination in her voice matched her fear.

“Excellent,” Baelin said. “Spoken like Proper Wizards.”

“I…” Professor Jules frowned, looking at Baelin. “I don’t like this, Baelin. It’s our duty as instructors and leaders in this school to see that our students use caution, and not assume unnecessary risks.”

“The path of wizardry is a dangerous one, Vernia. You yourself know this,” he said. “If one wanted to live a completely safe life, one would be better served becoming a tailor, perhaps. Or opening a shop to peddle fruits and vegetables. Magic is a deadly art, and wizards must know how to make their own decisions in the face of those dangers. We cannot shield them from all risk, we just cannot, nor should we even try. We’ll simply be doing them a disservice when they’re no longer hidden beneath our wings. We also shouldn’t be the ones to decide what risks they choose to face.”

“The path of wizardry was a lot more dangerous before we came up with safety regulations, proper mentorships, and the like.” Jules shook her head, her eyes growing distant. “No more using apprentices to provide blood for sacrifices, or tricking them into diving into ancient, dangerous ruins to fetch dangerous artefacts. Young wizards are no longer turned into mulch by an angry demon they accidentally summoned…most of the time. We don’t want to go back to the dark old days, remember, they were put aside for very good reasons. It’s up to us—those with wisdom and experience—to guide and protect our young wizards.”

“What you are suggesting is beyond that,” Baelin said firmly. “I understand the need for caution, but if we start stepping too far into that realm, we risk taking away a student’s agency. You remember that idiotic meeting we attended a few years back don’t you? Where it was suggested that our curriculum be altered so nearly ninety percent of courses are pre-selected for students in an effort to promote—” He made air quotes and his look grew disgusted. “—‘optimization and universal skill building in the modern wizard’? You fought against that as hard as I did, arguing that such a thing would defeat the choice afforded every wizard.”

“That’s different, Baelin,” she said. “What you’re arguing is the equivalent to saying that every student should be given the choice to not wear safety equipment in the lab, because enforcing such rules would take away from a student’s experience. I am not proposing we kick students off the expedition, only that they serve from a safer place.”

“And these students are in their second year. They undertook this expedition knowing that there would be dangers, monsters, and an entire warzone to be wary of. They knew there would be unknown substances to experiment on. I do not think we would serve them well by drawing a line for them. When they are out in the world and the unexpected happens, we won’t be there to whisk them away. I believe exposure to the unknown now, will give them skills to deal with it later.”

‘Grandma, grandpa please stop fighting!’ Alex screamed internally.

Carey’s eyes darted back and forth between the two wizards.

Neither Baelin nor Professor Jules had raised their voices during their discussion—there was a deadly calm in their tones—but it was clear that hooves, and heels were dug in.

They even seemed to have forgotten that Alex and Carey were still in the room, growing increasingly wide-eyed.

“This is an unknown among unknowns,” Professor Jules said. “How many expeditions were destroyed by an expedition leader saying ‘oh just a little farther’? Remember the Silt Cave Disaster? We lost Professor Collins and five promising graduate students because of foolhardy decisions.”

“A false equivalency, Vernia. And you know it. You love your students, and you should, but if you coddle them—“

“Coddle them?” Professor Jules’ eyebrows shot up. “I want to keep them alive. Baelin, with all due respect, this is not some barbarian age where folk have to fight and die everyday for their meat. We’re in a time of science and magic—”

“And faith,” Carey whispered, but if Jules heard her, she didn’t look her way.

“—and these two young wizards have an excellent future ahead. Simply having them pause the headlong rush into dangerous mysteries I think is more about being ‘reasonable,’ and less about ‘coddling’. ”

“And I think you are underestimating our students’ capabilities,” Baelin said, pride filling his voice. “I accepted the position as chancellor of the university because I also love wizardry, and seeing new wizards entering the world prepared for its trials. But those trials are often dangerous, and if we train our students to run and hide from shadows even when they are in a safe location backed by some of our best security forces, then what are we teaching them? We’re teaching them to cower, to run.”

He gestured to the pair of young wizards. “Neither student has requested anything unreasonable: Alex has proven combat capabilities. He’s taking my course and is also performing so excellently in the expedition, that—quite frankly—he would have to literally spit on his written final exam not to gain credit for year two of the Art of the Wizard in Combat. Allowing autonomy to challenge and assess the world is important for his growth, or he’ll be unprepared for the dangers of the wider world.”

He looked at Alex. “Do you not agree?”

Alex swallowed nervously, not wanting to get caught between the two wizards and their opposing points of view. He saw reason in both arguments, and he’d come to care dearly about both professors. It almost felt like he was being pulled into one of Mr. and Mrs. Lu’s arguments.

“Uh…” he said carefully. “I agree with both of you but…I dunno…I’ve gained power. If I don’t use it then what’s the point? I want to do things as safely as I can, but I think I can handle whatever’s coming. And if there is something nasty coming…why should I hide back in Generasi while my colleagues are here facing it?”

Professor Jules looked like she was about to say something, but bit it back. Worry had taken over her expression.

“Well spoken, Alex.” Next, Baelin gestured to Carey. “Carey, on the other hand, has no combat experience. Do you?”

Carey flinched. “Not really.”

“But you are an excellent alchemist, and you have not said that you have any desire to suddenly rush into battle and risk yourself even though you’re not experienced or equipped for such rigours, have you?”

“No,” Carey said. “I do want to continue working on the frontline ever so much…but here in the encamp—er, castle. If I went out there, I know I’d just be a danger to myself and anyone else with me. So, I’ll stay where I can best help…especially because…there’s only the two of us who’ve engaged with a dungeon core so far, yes?”

She looked at Professor Jules, who’s nod came reluctantly.

“Then…I must stay, I simply must! We have to learn everything we can about all of this. And, my countrymen…I am terribly frightened to be sure, but I won’t let my fear send me retreating like a coward.”

SIlence hung in the air.

Baelin looked at Jules. “And there you have it. Reason. If we deny them now, Vernia…we would not turn them into Proper Wizards…we would turn them into cowards.”

Professor Jules’ jaw flexed rhythmically.

“I…” she said. “I…seem to have been outvoted. Well, I can’t stand in your way if the three of you want this so much. But I disapprove. I very much disapprove.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Well, what do we do—”

“Professor, why are Alex and I the only ones who managed to do this?” Carey asked. “Why us? What is going on, and why would mortals even be able to control a dungeon core?”

Professor Jules cleared her throat. “Well, Miss London…it might be too early for a hypothesis, but there are two obvious commonalities between you and Mr. Roth. First, you are both Thameish…and secondly, you are both followers of Uldar.”

Carey paused, working through Jules’ answer.

And the colour began to drain from her face.

“But…why in Uldar’s name would that allow us to control these…these…devil-orbs?” she cried. “They are our enemy, so, why? Why would we… maybe Uldar’s grace is simply so mighty, that it lets us seize control of dungeon cores against their will?” Her eyes darted. “M-much as a mouse would bow to a lion in the southlands!”

Baelin and Professor Jules looked at each other.

The ancient wizard cleared his throat. “Perhaps that might be a fair hypothesis…power can be a tipping factor in many situations. But uh…I was unable to even attempt this myself, the same is true for Professor Jules.”

“Oh that’s alright, Chancellor Baelin,” Carey said. “There’s no shame in not being as powerful as a god—”

‘Carey, no!” Alex screamed internally, feeling like he was watching a rudderless ship steaming toward a reef.

“—especially one as great as Uldar,” the young woman finished, her tone filled with the innocence of a child reporting the colour of the sky on a given day.

Professor Jules gasped.

Alex considered having Claygon break down the walls and yank him from the room.

Baelin stared at Carey for a moment, a look of shock on his face for the very first time since Alex had known him. Then he threw his head back and a booming laugh filled the room. “Oh my, Carey, there was a time…there was a time…” he said, wiping a tear from his eye.

He had an edge to his voice right below the surface that Alex caught, leaving him feeling like the spectre of death had just flown by.

“Well…let us say for a moment that you are correct, and that your deity Uldar is my better,” he said. “It could be possible. Not all deities are made from the same stern stuff, after all.”

He stroked his beard. “But there are two issues with your hypothesis: the first being—you and Alex are not Uldar. You are not priests either, and so do not wield his divine power for yourselves. The second issue is that it’s not about power…it’s that the dungeon core’s entrances do not even appear for others aside from you and Alex, so far. It’s as though they’re designed only to be accessible by certain individuals. Which indicates something…less than accidental.”

“Wait…you’re suggesting that there’s some…purpose to allowing children of Uldar…of Thameland to control dungeon cores? Whose purpose?” Carey asked.

Baelin shrugged. “That I do not know, my child. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“The thing is,” Alex cut in. “The historical records cover how Uldar fought the Ravener the first time, right? They also cover how Heroes rose up to fight him in subsequent times…but information about those first battles are vague. We don’t even know where the Ravener came from.”

“But why…why Uldar’s children?” Carey muttered, her eyes growing distant. “Why…why would Uldar’s own be able to control…and why does no one know of this? …we must tell the church, right away!”

“I don’t know about that, Carey,” Alex said. “Our kingdom’s been fighting the Ravener for…at least a millennium, maybe longer. This should be common knowledge among our people. It couldn’t have stayed hidden for this long, unless…”

“Unless someone or something wanted it to remain hidden,” Professor Jules finished. “Which is why details must be revealed cautiously.”

“But…” Carey had begun to shake. “Someone must know!”

“Yeah, I agree,” Alex said, watching Carey as his mind worked. “That’s why I think we should start by only telling a few people. People that are already close to the expedition.”

Carey looked at him sharply. “Who?”

“The Heroes.”