(95) Offer

“Near as I can tell, its function is almost limitless. It’s as limitless as spellcraft itself,” Eirene said, motioning toward the inert device.

Nephthys stared at the panel, somewhat underwhelmed. Before her stood a titanic metal column that occupied most of the room. Its surface was smooth and polished, broken only by a single square device protruding from its side at around chest height. The panel was sized so that her palm would fit snugly atop it.

This was the Conductor, the fabled device that could control the magic field blanketing not just this ancient remnant but Promise City above. Turns out that, despite its lofty title and function, it was just a control panel attached to the antenna.

“How do you mean?” she asked, glancing at Eirene.

“Well, very basically, this device is just a catalyst. Now, granted, it could have hidden functions I haven’t discovered yet. It’s colossal. Goes from the basement all the way up to the top of the building, and it’s covered in enchantments, so bear in mind that this is just my initial impression.

“It seems to link with a user and project their spellcraft out across its entire area of operation. It’s got a sort of umbrella under which any spell effect can be cast,” Eirene explained.

“It’s a Domain,” Nephthys said, a realization that made even her eyebrows rise.

“A what? Sure, I guess that’s a good enough name for it. It functionally just extends a mage’s range and gives them a lot more mana to work with. Or it used to. Needs power to function at all, not just to boost output,” Eirene said, motioning toward the monolith.

Nephthys stared at it in wonder. Truly, the Praxic Empire was something else. It was one thing to see the ‘ancient, powerful civilization falls to ruin’ trope in a game. It was another to witness it with your own eyes.

“How were the mages above interfacing with it? They were dead when I found them, but I assume they were not gathered around the antenna because they thought it pretty,” she asked.

“I doubt they were controlling it. They were probably just middlemen. You know, magic originates down here, gets released from the antenna, and they intercept it on its way out. I’d have to know what it was doing to know for sure, but that’s my guess,” Eirene responded with a shrug.

“I do not have much experience with it, but rumors of the capital’s magic field abound. It was said that the marquis and his mages could detect any anomalous sources of mana within the entire city. 

“Many believed it a false rumor spread to project strength, but anyone with sufficient magical senses could feel the field and knew it to be doing something,” Bernard explained.

He stood against the far wall behind Nephthys, with Lamorak and Gregsa next to him. They had little to contribute up to this point, so they had largely just observed the discussion between Nephthys and Eirene.

“Aye, that checks out. Antenna sends out a ping to detect concentrations of mana, and the bounceback returns to it, which the mages then intercept. Probably, you’d actually use that panel there, both to cast the spell and to receive the results of it. No reason someone couldn’t just grab the information on its way down the antenna, though.

“Might be something worth considering in the future, if you plan to use this thing. Don’t know how you’d do it, but it could be worth finding a way to…I don’t know…hide the spell being cast? 

“If you’re scanning for something, you probably wouldn’t want someone to figure out exactly what you’re looking for and what you’ve found just by touching the damn thing,” Eirene reasoned, her hand on her chin.

“Interesting. Some sort of spell encryption? What an undertaking that would be. I have to admit that I am interested—” Nephthys started, the wheels already turning in her head.

A pointed cough from Bernard interrupted her, and she was once again thankful for her body’s inability to blush.

“Anyway,” she said, plowing forward. “We could test it right now.”

“Doubt it. Go ahead and put your hand on the panel, but I doubt it’ll work,” Eirene suggested, stepping back.

Nephthys approached and laid her palm on the panel…nothing happened. She felt around for some sort of mental or magical connection, thinking that it might need some convincing or connecting to activate, but she felt nothing.

“I’m pretty sure they didn’t build in a way to power it manually. The thing can’t run without sufficient power, and I would wager most don’t have the kind of mana reserves it would require to cast a city-level spell individually. 

“They didn’t build it with the intention of one individual being able to supply both the spell and the mana to power it in mind. Apologies that they failed to consider you specifically, my lady,” Eirene said with a small chuckle.

“So, it’s useless?” Gregsa muttered, obviously frustrated that he had stood watch for so long with nothing to show for it.

“You'd better hope not, kid,” Eirene snapped, turning on him. “That ceiling is fine right now, but it won’t last forever. We’re talking months, not years, and that’s assuming there’s not an earthquake or something to complicate things. 

“If we don’t find a way to either reinforce the ceiling or power up the Conductor, Promise City is going to find itself buried.”

Gregsa was silent, his mouth agape. The silence lingered, all grappling with the sudden seriousness of the situation.

“Surely, reinforcing the ceiling is a better, longer-term solution than attempting to use this ancient magical device,” Lamorak reasoned.

“I’m no earth mage, but I’d wager the kind of support pillars you’d need for this place would consume most of the city below,” Eirene said, turning and motioning toward the dark windows on the far wall. “Look out there. This cavern is colossal. It must be at least a mile in diameter.

“It’s not even a real dome. It’s more like a saucer, which is a far less stable geometry. The kind of thick pillars we’d need to reinforce the ceiling…I can’t even imagine. We’d lose over half the city raising that much stone, easily,” she finished, crossing her arms before her.

“Is there a reason we care so much about this place? It’s ancient and empty, a ghost city,” Gregsa muttered.

Eirene’s mouth opened, but Nephthys placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping what was undoubtedly about to be a torrent of vitriol that would wither polite people.

“Did you not hear what this thing can do? It can amplify any spell across the entire city!” Lamorak exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air dramatically.

“Sure, but that just means we need to preserve this specific building. What does it have to do with the rest of the place? Just fill it in with dirt or something. Problem solved,” Gregsa shrugged dismissively.

Nephthys now had to place two hands on Eirene’s shoulders.

“This powerful artifact is just one single invention we have discovered, Greg,” Bernard explained patiently. “Imagine what else could be out there. This is an entire city, remember? Surely, you could see the value in exploring. Perhaps we would find ancient Praxic armories and the like.”

Bernard seemed to know his people well, as the mention of arms and armor immediately lit a glimmer in Gregsa’s eyes.

“Regardless,” Nephthys said, removing her hands from Eirene, who straightened her cloak with a huff. “This is where I would turn your focus, Bernard. If we can get the Conductor working, provide it with a power source, it could be a boon against the likely Sardvend invasion.”

Bernard nodded in agreement.

“It seems I will once again have to rely on Nemesis. We have no one skilled enough in magic or enchanting to understand any of this technology,” he said.

Nephthys opened her mouth to respond, but a tug at the back of her mind demanded her attention. She had been waiting for this.

“Please excuse me. I will return momentarily,” she assured.

A gate shaped exactly large enough for her body appeared and washed over her, and suddenly she was floating above Thaleia. The room around her was one of smooth stone arches and beams. It reminded her of cathedrals from her own world, except this room was clearly carved into and out of the stone rather than being merely made of it.

Before her was a stone table, smoothed and polished to a sheen. A group of stern-faced men and women sat behind it, the side of the table nearest Nephthys empty of seats and occupants. It seemed a formal audience hall, and all attention was on her. She was somewhat disheartened to see how serious everyone was, their faces seeming carved from the same stone as the room itself.

“Greetings. My name is Nephthys. I am the guild leader of Nemesis. May I know who I am addressing?” she asked.

An older woman with gray streaks in her hair stood from her place in the center, addressing Nephthys.

“We are the Council of Elders. Your…underling,” she practically spat, glancing at Thaleia, “informed us that you had some tribute to offer.”

She sat down, crossing her arms. No one else at the table made any attempt to make introductions, so after a couple of seconds, Nephthys moved on.

“I see. Allow me first to correct a couple of misunderstandings. First, Thaleia is a member of my guild, not an underling. I would appreciate it if you were less reductive when referring to her.

“Second, what I have is an offer for mutual benefit, not tribute. What I aim to do will be done whether you are involved or not. I have reached out because I believe my plans will benefit us both, not because Chicolua is in any way unique or required for them,” she declared. 

She affixed them with what she hoped was a stern look. It was difficult to tell whether her passively neutral expression actually changed the way she wanted it to, but by the deep frowns she saw darken their faces, she knew her message was delivered regardless.

“Now, let me also apologize for contacting you. I instructed Thaleia to do so as politely as possible, but I understand that Chicolua is isolationist, so contacting you in a way you would approve of was simply not possible, given that there is no contact you would approve of. 

“That said, hopefully there were no…complications?” she hinted, turning her gaze on Thaleia.

She raised her hands in the air with a smile. When none of the council members offered any comment, she pressed on.

“My plans are thus: a trade route will be established from Nemesis, positioned in the center of the Choked Crater, all the way south to Radaar, beyond the Gloam and mountains south of it,” she declared.

Eyebrows were raised around the room, and there were several sharp inhales, which was good. She wanted them a little off-balance.

“As you can imagine, this is quite a distance. There will need to be a waystation along the path for merchants to rest, perhaps even trade. I was thinking that Chicolua would be perfectly positioned to become such a hub. 

“Should you allow it, we will establish the trade route through your colony,” she said, floating down to the ground next to Thaleia and clasping her hands behind her back.

Whispers and muttered conversation broke out around the table, and Nephthys noted none of it was positive.

“We have survived for centuries thanks to our isolation and secrecy, and you want us to just…open our village up? To outsiders?” the woman who introduced the Council asked.

“Yes,” Nephthys replied simply.

Cries of outrage echoed out across the audience chamber, curses at her audacity, disbelief at the absurdity of her request, and other such ramblings.

“As I said, this route will be constructed regardless of your involvement. If not through this colony, I will simply have to establish a new town within the Scoured Peaks to serve as a waystation. It will require slightly more work,” Nephthys explained.

“Threats?” the woman asked.

“I am not threatening your colony. It is unimportant to me on a large scale. I am stating that traffic in this region will increase, so if you think you can remain hidden despite that, I wish you luck. 

“I am merely suggesting that, right now, with my proposal, you have the opportunity to control your reintegration into the rest of the world. Should you be discovered by some other party, you will no longer have any choice or control,” Nephthys declared ominously.

The room went silent, though not purely from contemplation. It was clear that many wished to discuss with their colleagues, but they likely did not want to say much in her presence.

“And if we decline your proposal? Are we truly to expect Nemesis to leave us alone?” one of the men near the end of the table asked.

“Of course. We discovered your colony during routine scouting weeks ago and have left you alone until now, have we not? We are only making contact now because it is relevant to our goals. Should that relevance vanish, so shall we,” Nephthys answered.

“What if we said we oppose this trade route you are constructing? What then?” another elder near the center asked.

“Irrelevant,” Nephthys bluntly declared.

A heavy silence blanketed the room at her words. It was a silence filled with implication and interpretation. Though she was being heavy-handed, Nephthys did not even consider altering course. Though their colony was small, Chicolua was a state, and states had to make decisions based on interests rather than feelings.

“I do not require an answer today, nor even this week. I will not wait forever, but do take your time and deliberate.

“This trade route will give you a controlled reintegration, the opportunity for bountiful trade with regions outside the Peaks, and cooperation with Nemesis and Radaar.

“Should you end up as the major hub along the route connecting Nemesis with the rest of southern Ashreach, we would also have a vested interest in assisting you, be it through trade or military might.

“Think on it. I will await your response,” Nephthys said, floating up toward the center of the room.

A gate once again appeared and swallowed her just as a chorus of voices rang out.