The Dao of Magic

96 - Promiscuity

"A shadow council? That's rather cliche." My remark is ignored.

"And I was being groomed for a position?" My gardener's question does receive the old guy's attention.

"Yes, they have this philosophy that people are easier to manipulate if you put them through a difficult time first. Talented mages use too much mana, the core forming in their brain turns them into objects of power without a conscious will after a century or so."

I take a sip of spirit beer while thinking this over. We are sitting on the deck of the Ascent, enjoying the sun. Angeta is behind the wheel, Ket and Selis are fishing, and Bord is doing some dumb stuff on top of the sea. I hear him splashing about while muttering about geometric shapes now and then.

The rest of my students along with Rhea, my gardener, and the old man are all sitting around a table on comfortable couches. My gardener is called Valerius and the old man introduced himself as Danarius. The last member of my weird troupe is sitting on my shoulder in her usual spot. She has the little pirate hat on top of her head and thus get's ignored by everyone. Rhea glares at her now and then, the only one powerful enough to ignore the stealth field.

Val is the next to speak up. "So I was being groomed for a position of true power by being held down and treated like a deadbeat without a future? How many of their potential recruits commit suicide?"

"Don't know. I only found out this much after careful investigations after all my old friends kept disappearing." Danarius then spits over the railing, his wrinkled face twisted into a scowl.

Rhea looks extremely bored by this entire conversation, so I surreptitiously slide a hand towards her. I cover it in the subtlest "IGNORE ME" field I can generate while keeping a straight face. I see her eyebrows twitch as I start feeling her up.

Something is bothering me, so I decide to ask a question. "How old are you?"

"Hah, don't you know that it's very rude to ask that question of your elders? I am more than hundred and twenty years old." Danarius now grins at me. He somehow misses the weird glances my own students send his way in reply to his remark. I tsk a bit inside my head, today's youth is too dumb to know when the guy they are talking down to has lived for nearly ten times their age.

"Where is this true leadership located? I was put on indefinite patrol duty at the mana dungeon, is that their headquarters?"

"I have not been able to find that information but that's my guess as well."

I zone out the following conversation. Valerius and Danarius keep talking about possible headquarter locations and power structures. The gist of their talk boils down to: fast-track career mages die trying to gain more power or end up used as nexus points for the mage islands mana gathering formations. Control-focused mages are deliberately shat upon to mould their personalities to the will of the secret group of mages wielding true power. They also manage the island's cores and engage in politicking to guarantee their stranglehold on the known world.

To me, it sounds like a lot of effort for very little gain. I keep up an attentive face while waging my own secret war with the woman sitting next to me. She is currently pinching me hard enough to leave bruises, which is not an easy feat thanks to my heartcore. I am pinching her in a totally different way.

None of the people present are powerful enough to see through the stealth fields we are both employing, so our vicious cold war goes totally ignored. Ares is now talking about some stuff, but Rhea is using her toes to try to break my foot so I don't really pay attention. A process is logging the entire conversation while giving me a simple summary.

I disable the pain nerves coming from my arms as she transforms a single fingernail into a needle. She is aiming for nerve clusters and is doing an admirable job of paralyzing my roaming hands while inflicting as much pain as possible. I start using my other hand, it's not much fun if I can't even feel what I am doing, after all.