Chapter 525: Tampering With Wards

A sense of unease settled into Kir’s mind as he posed for a photo with a woman he’d never met before. The governess of the 8th Ward’s only orphanage was a soft, heavyset elf with a generally happy demeanor under her silver hair and grey eyes.

She’d balked at the proposal Kir presented her with on behalf of Chancellor Imogen, arguing him down until he showed her a rather large amount on his icrys. Since then, she’d been all smiles, and if not for Imogen’s vouchsafing, Kir would have suspected the elf was going to steal the crysta he was about to donate to the orphanage.

Having Amarena there had helped, and now the city’s Knight Marshal was lifting children with her biceps as Kir hovered the crystal part of his icrys out to snap photos of a life he’d never had.

Of course, he wasn’t in his real form. He’d worn his disguise coming here, and he was disguised now as he snapped picture after picture, rapidly producing copies for the woman to keep. It was easier than he liked to pretend to be a capable, young Knight going undercover. Perhaps, in the past, he might have even enjoyed what he was doing.

"I must say Mister...?"

"Just use the new name," Kir said.

"I... see... Since you are now a former ward of this orphanage, will you need me to memorize anything else?"

"Not really. Be creative if you need, but remember not to divulge too much."

Despite feeling bad about the identity he was stealing, Kir pulled his face into an awkward smile as she pretended to measure his head against the notches on the doorframe. Each artificial snap that sounded from his icrys only increased Kir’s sense that what he was doing was wrong.

It was a relief when Amarena returned, and he was able to shift from one disguise to another. He recalled his icrys to his palm and turned to find the name he’d chosen for his other disguise etched into the wood.

"If he were alive, I imagine he’d be this tall too," the governess said, sniffing a little. "I know that what is happening here isn’t strictly moral, but I’m grateful all the same. We can hire good teachers now, and as much as they complain about schooling, I know the children will be happier for it."

The city, while it provided all the basic necessities for the orphanages, was not infinite in its resources, especially when it came to hiring staff and teachers. As one of the outermost wards, the 8th Ward wasn’t disregarded... but it was a lower priority than the central wards. While no one was in danger of starving, there was a sense of creeping disrepair amongst the residential blocks. A fracture here, some garbage there. Leftover bricks from construction and puddles formed in clogged drainages. Empty blocks that were meant for future populations often became hiding places for the city’s less reputable inhabitants.

As Kir left the orphanage with Amarena, he wondered if it was his fault for convincing Lumin to have the city seize control of all construction, agriculture, education, and healthcare. The creation of the crysta system, prompted by the need to actually use gold and silver for their magically reactive properties, was still finding its footing. Money wasn’t circulating efficiently within the closed economy of the city, and that led to accumulations whose harms were passed down the line.

This manifested in the racial tensions building up within the city, as each race of the myriad accused others of stifling their opportunities, spurred on by an elite that had formed around established owners and financiers. The very thing Kir had advised Lumin to avoid, but which she had kept around anyway for leverage against the various interests. But the problem wasn’t just with how money flowed.

No, the ticking time bomb Kir feared most acutely was the problem of having too many capable people with not enough work to satisfy their needs. The overproduction of elites had shattered many an Earthly nation, and in Norneau it was held back mostly by entertainment and sports, especially those of a magical variety.

Every graduating generation felt the pressure to succeed in a city already saturated with success... And inevitably some of those frustrated, capable individuals would turn their talents against the city.

Conmen, cultists, loan sharks, political climbers, and drug peddlers... Norneau had them all. Some days, usually after hearing a particularly horrific tale, he really felt there was no amount of prosperity that could stop them from cropping up like weeds.

And Imogen had taken advantage of Kir’s hurry to save his children by pointing him at the one weed she knew he wanted to find and burn...

"Hey," Amarena prodded Kir, "you’re brooding again."

Kir looked up at her. They were in an alley, and his disguise rendered him far shorter than her. "I know, it’s just that I feel like..." He sighed. "Like I should have done more the first time..."

"I know how you feel," Amarena said. "Before becoming Knight Marshal, every day was just putting out one fire after another. I always think that if I had just taken that authority when we first arrived, I could have done something to stop every bad thing... That I could have stopped what happened to Moon."

Kir flinched at the name. He blamed himself, more than anyone, for what happened to his son. A memory flashed. Moon, his body jagged and metallic, covered in blood. All sapience gone from his eyes...

"Sorry," Amarena said quickly, sensing his thoughts. "I guess what I’m trying to say is... the only way you could have done more is by becoming something you’re not. If we hadn’t decided together..." She left the last unsaid, because through the bond everyone had felt how narrowly Kir avoided heading out to slaughter every last angel in Norneau. And when his rage had subsided, what was left was a hole in his heart and a wariness of his own children.

Especially...

"Something’s wrong," Kir said the moment he felt it, the signal from the wards set around Atikka’s room. He sent Amarena his feeling and she nodded her permission. Folding space around them both, Kir brought them to the door of Atikka’s room, resuming his true form in the blink it took for them to arrive.

The wards had clearly been triggered by the opening of the doors, a quick check showed nothing amiss with them, but something still felt off. The moment they entered, they found Atikka reclining on her chaise, reading a book.

She didn’t even look up as she greeted them. "Mother. Father. What brings you both here?"

"What did you do?" Amarena led.

"You were warned against tampering with the wards," Kir added.

"I have done nothing. Perhaps you should be more attentive towards your guest."

"Explain," Amarena snapped.

"Just that Owyn wandered his way into my room. He’s quite handsome... I’m surprised anyone would let him out of their sight." Atikka smiled into her book. "I asked a few questions, then turned him around and sent him on his way." She closed her book and looked up at them. "Feel free to pick apart his mind if you need. I have nothing to hide."

She knew full well that Kir would never do such a thing. Such magics tended to scar the mind, rewiring it in unpredictable ways. Just as Kir hated compulsion magic, he also hated any magic that would take away a person’s free will.

"I’ll give you this chance to confess," he replied, his voice level and calm. If what she said was true, then he should have arrived to find Owyn at the door, if not in the hall, instead of the residual traces of his mana. He could infer that she’d tampered with the timing of the wards, but not their overall function, or that she’d developed her own ability to accelerate time within a limited sphere. In either case, it did not bode well for dealing with her.

Atikka was always painfully, intentionally, difficult.

"I confess I’m bored out of my mind enough that even you two make for pleasant company. Tell me, is that mortal to be Arc’s pet? If I’m a good girl, can I get one?"

Kir felt the spike of angry mana coming off of Amarena even before his wife appeared next to Atikka, her hand raised in an open-hand slap...

"Rena," Kir whispered, and she stopped her strike a mere millimeter from Atikka’s surprised and fearful face.

Atikka rallied quickly and struck, "So this is how it is now, Mother? You don’t speak to me in months and now you try to hit me? Where’s your so-called justice n-"

"Shut your fucking mouth." Amarena snarled, tossing a wrathful glance at Kir. "She’s learned nothing," she said before storming off.

"That was cruel, Atikka," Kir said as soon as Amarena’s footfalls faded beyond hearing.

"What’s cruel is keeping me here. And for what? You made that thing and then let me take the fall for what it did."

Kir was angry, but he held it behind a careful mask. "You know what you are guilty of. What you did to your brother-"

"Stop calling that thing my brother!" Atikka shouted, her voice sending mana crackling against Kir’s body.

"Moon would not want to see you wasting away like this. Lying to yourself..."

"Shut up! Shut up-shut up-shut up!" Atikka shrieked, throwing her book at him. Kir siezed the book in mana and sent it gently floating to the floor. At the end, she was left panting before she growled out, "One day, I will evolve. And the first thing I’m going to do is burn down this prison you put me in."

"If that day comes, I pray you will be yourself." Kir turned on his heel and walked out. Almost as an afterthought, he added another ward to the hall, one that would alert him if anyone came within five meters of the Atikka’s room.

Atikka’s potential had already brought her to the cusp of the core-forming stage. She had mana - even more than he had when he’d first used a fulcrum to control his evolution - but she was missing one vital component to take the next step, and until she reconciled to it, a fulcrum would only cripple her.

Or worse, turn her into a monster.

One thing was certain though. Atikka had inherited her mother’s stubbornness. Enough to make Kir uncertain that she would reform over the remaining one-hundred ninety years of her sentence.

He prayed his theory was right. That she was redeemable. That one day she would truly feel the weight of all life, not just those powerful enough for her to acknowledge.

If she never experienced that growth...

He had no idea what he would do.