Design 315 >> 322

  Programming 271 >> 275

  Rune Smithing 283 >> 290

  Drawing 58 >> 64

  Drafting 83 >> 88

  Contemplating the true nature of the disc sent a chill through me, equal parts excitement and caution. This thing wasn’t meant to animate something abstract or half-formed. It was designed to slot into a completed body. But this disc alone wouldn’t enchant the golem. That was still going to be up to Tad and me. For now, I needed to get a better idea of what made it tick.

  I didn’t try to dismantle the disc, even though the temptation was there. This wasn’t something to take apart out of curiosity, and I knew better than to treat it like a spell I could brute-force my way through. Instead, I focused on understanding its intent and how it would interact with the design I’d drawn up. If the body was balanced correctly and the rune paths I planned didn’t interfere with its logic, then activating this wouldn’t be a gamble.

  I pushed with System Sight to see if I could get any sense of, well, anything. I got nothing. I growled under my breath. I felt so close to understanding it, and like I might gain a deeper understanding of magic in the process. My theory came to my mind again—all energy was energy, but in different forms. Mana, life force, XP, Vitae, probably even Psi, it was all the same.

  So this shouldn’t be beyond me. I leaned harder into my Architect occupation, even though this wasn’t the Heavens bailiwick. Surely there was something I could do. My mind beat itself against the form of the disc like a battering ram. I was not going to be denied. This was something I wanted.

  Error. You are attempting to use inapplicable skills, System Mediator.

  That was it. I practically screamed with my mind, “Fine! Then mediate with me!”

  For a moment, I thought nothing was going to come of it, but then I felt another presence. I had the distinct impression of being stared at by a Catholic nun with a ruler, tapping it against her palm, even though I’d never been to a Catholic school. Whoever this was, they were looking at me and weighing me.

  I heard a voice over my shoulder. I spun in my chair but saw nothing, even with System Sight. “How interesting. System Mediator? We haven’t had one of you during my reign, or my mother’s before me. In fact, I don’t know how long it’s been. But you intrigue me. You’ve been around my grandson.”

  Aside from the context, the self-assurance in the words told me I was dealing with a fey queen. This was a goddess, as far as I understood the system here, and my most recent dealing with a goddess hadn’t gone very well. I wondered if the Ways would intervene to help me if one of the queens tried to attack me.

  “I have,” I said, still looking around. Tad was off somewhere sleeping. I was alone. “But don’t think you can get to him through me. I rather like Tad and am lending him the aid that I can, but it isn’t my place to speak for him. On the other hand, I can speak for the Heavens as an Architect, and I can make deals. Why are you responding to me?”

  “Someone with your authority? You have been on our radar since you entered our realm. It’s quite quaint, the way your system uses mortals to design new paths of growth.”

  “As far as I know, the only other Architect is a goddess, and she’s not exactly a fan of mine. Perhaps I was never meant to be an Architect at my level.”

  “Don’t discount your worth. You are clearly a fulcrum for fate. What remains to be seen is whether you can help me with my biggest problem. As for Gallarosa, I’ve never met her. The Fey System is stable and has little need for interaction with other systems.”

  “Be that as it may, I’m still not going to turn Tad over to you. If he wants to reunite with his family, that’s his decision.”

  “No, no, Mediator. As important as regaining my son’s child is, I have a bigger problem. Although it occurs to me that we haven’t been properly introduced. I am Queen Simari of the Void Court.”

  I took that as my cue to introduce myself. There was a reflexive desire to bow just because my parents had taught me manners, but I caught myself in time. It would have been silly to bow to someone who wasn’t physically there. “I am Silas Renner Kalestian, Forerunner, Architect of the System, System Mediator, Duke of Hell, and a Heretical Trailblazer of the Fused Path.” I knew I was laying it on a bit thick, but went with my instincts.

  “My, my, that’s quite a mouthful. I also see that you’ve already gained some insights into the Fey System and that you doubtlessly want to gain a piece of our realm for your Fused Path. Yes, I can sense a bit of the primordial in you, although it seems to be sealed. You should know that Tad won’t be able to give you a class. He has been extended a certain amount of privilege, but for an outsider, such privilege can only come directly from a queen.”

  “Or the Ways?”

  There was a moment of hesitation before she answered—not much, but enough to convince me that she didn’t know about what I’d been offered. “No, not even the Ways, although I suppose they could offer you other things. I’m beginning to wonder how random it was, you ending up here. Perhaps we have all been allowed to stagnate.”

  She said the last sentence as though she were speaking to herself rather than me. I could sense the difference but didn’t believe for an instant any word that came out of her mouth was accidental. There were too many fairy tales about those who made poor bargains with fey, even on the opposite end of the multiverse.

  “Then if it isn’t Tad you want, you must want my help with the Order.”

  “I’m impressed. You got it in one. I propose a temporary… arrangement. I will allow you to extend whatever ability you have that allows you to see the underpinnings of your system to the Fey System as well, for, say, seven days. In exchange, you must agree to help rid Basetown of the Order. And worry not—I’m not asking you to complete a task that’s beyond your capabilities. If you do this task, then I’ll grant you a class and a proper connection to the Fey System.”

  I thought about her offer. We were intending to help Tad anyway. If the boon was only for seven days, she must have realized things were going to come to a head before that point. I didn’t see any trap in what she’d said, although sometimes I could be blind. But the clock was ticking. “I’ll agree to that, with one change. I need my connection to the Fey System to be approved by all three Courts.”

  “Oh, such a smart boy. I so like the smart ones. If you ever tire of the struggles of a Forerunner, I could find a place for you in my Court. Humans aren’t typically welcome, but perhaps that was an oversight on our part. And in truth, you’re so much more than a human now. I could even help you open your primordial nature. Would you like that?”

  I felt like I was being baited. “Do we have a deal?”

  I got a notification in response.

  New Quest: Clear the Order out of Basetown.

  Difficulty: Extreme

  Reward: A connection to the Fey System, details to be negotiated

  Status of remaining Order members:

  Arbiter: 1 of 1

  Infiltrators: 23 of 23

  Dreadnoughts: 65 of 68

  Law Wardens: 19 of 20

  Light Seers: 2 of 2

  Truth Flames: 10 of 10

  Lawspeakers: 14 of 26

  Lawkeepers: 184 of 240

  As soon as I finished reading the notification, I felt a buzzing behind my eyes. I could see so much more in this realm now. I might not have the ability to modify it—not yet—but I could see some of the underlying rules that made this system work. The disc suddenly made sense. It was a true artifact, but it had been left unfinished, lacking the sprites necessary to empower it. I understood the code behind it now, though, and I had a clear vision for how we would use it to animate a golem.

  What I needed to do now was grab a quick nap while we waited on the iron. Once that arrived, I was sure neither Tad nor I would be willing to pause our work until the golems were complete.

  Chapter Forty-Three: A Most Welcome Friend

  I managed to sleep for several hours, which was odd given my excitement. But Dad had always said the most useful skill he’d learned in the Corps was the ability to sleep anywhere, at any time, on anything. You had to grab your sleep when and where you could.

  As I rubbed my eyes, another realization hit me. By now, I’d seen more combat than my dad had ever dreamed of. A part of me said that what he did was more heroic because he didn’t have the powers I had, but another part said he also hadn’t had to face down primordials, ascendant matrons, inhuman cyborgs from another universe, or a freaking goddess. At the end of the day, both positions were valid.

  As I became more aware of my surroundings, I noticed three things. First, Selena and the dungeon party weren’t back. They’d been going at it for hours. A moment of worry passed through my mind, but Selena had been capable before getting her ascendant-tier swords. With them, she would be a wrecking ball. The same went for Samvek. He’d always been everything I wanted to be in a warrior, but with his new class added in, he was even more powerful. I needed to quit worrying about everyone.

  The second thing I saw was Tad standing over my drafting table, looking at my designs. The third was disheartening. There was still no sign of Clay or Oliver. Hopefully they weren’t in any trouble and would be back with the iron soon.

  I stretched, stood up, and walked over to Tad. I didn’t see Fara anywhere, but for all I knew, she might have the ability to hide from even my senses with her new upgrades. Lexa had returned, though. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing the one door into the warehouse.

  Tad saw me and smiled. “I rarely let myself get enough sleep, but I’ve found even with boosted stats that it’s still good for me.”

  I nodded. “Same.”

  He started asking me about the designs, but I decided that he needed to know about my conversation with his grandmother first. “Before we go into that, I need to tell you about something that happened while you were sleeping.” I paused for a second to make sure I had his full attention. “I was trying to understand the control disc, so I used an ability I have in my system to see the base code of the system.”

  “Base… code? Like a secret message?”

  I cringed. How could I explain the concept of a computer to someone from a culture like this? “Uh, probably shouldn’t worry about it. Something from my world. Think of it like the instructions that everything runs on. I can see how the system pulls the strings.”

  He nodded. “And what did you find out?”

  “At first, I couldn’t find anything, but I kept pushing. I’m stubborn like that. But my efforts drew attention from someone else. She identified herself as Queen Simari of the Void Court, and essentially called you her grandson.”

  Tad seemed to need the drafting table to support himself as he fell back onto the stool I’d been using. “She was here?”

  “Well, not here, per se.” I tapped the side of my head. “More like here.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She gave me a quest, which was affirmed by my system. She allowed my System Sight skill to extend into the Fey System for seven days as a sign of goodwill and as thanks for helping you. But she offered me a bigger reward—a class from this system—if I could complete a quest. We have seven days to remove the Order from Basetown.”

  Tad got quiet, losing himself in his thoughts. Finally he asked, “Was that it?”

  “She made it clear that recovering you was important, but that dealing with the Order was more important. She implied that dealing with them in Basetown would only be a tiny part of the task ahead, but I got the sense she was talking about the real battle against their god. I want you to know that I made it clear from the beginning that she couldn’t use me to get to you.”

  “Thanks for that. I guess, in an odd way, I’m sorta relieved by that. She wants me back, I get that. I’m part of the family. But I’m hardly her top priority. That also makes sense. If I was, then how would I have ever been lost in the first place?”

  I knew he had a lot to think about, but our conversation refocused on the designs. We talked about how I’d been able to enchant items in my world by rune smithing. The concept was odd to Tad. “I can feel the magic in your armor,” he said. “But it feels artificial and temporary. Maybe long-lasting, but not indefinite.”

  “That’s my understanding, too. Enchanted items eventually run out of magic, but since coming to Aerth, I’ve learned that there’s a lot more to enchanting than I knew. I have already been trying to figure out how to use raw spiritual energy to match what you can do. My companion might have a better idea about that, but I can’t summon him here. Apparently, the Fey System has something against astral beings.”

  Tad’s expression was one of surprise. “I don’t even know what that is. Can you explain a bit more?”

  I did my best to tell him about the astral plane, the concept of an eidolon, and how I was bonded to Urg. He listened, commiserating with me at how hard it must be to not have Urg here.

  Then his eyes lit up like a mischievous child’s. “You know,” he said, drawing out the second word, “you said you got the ability to see into the system. I have authority as a prince. I wonder if we could find a workaround to get Urg here?”

  “Hmm… maybe. Are you willing to do that? It sounds like it might piss off the system, which is basically like pissing off your grandmothers, isn’t it?”

  He shrugged and laughed. “It’s not like I’m being entirely selfless with this. You said Urg is powerful right?”

  I nodded. “More so than me, Selena, or Samvek. I honestly think that his connection to me is holding him back from expressing his power.”

  “Then I think it’s a great idea. As for upsetting some family I’ve never met, maybe they shouldn’t have lost me in the first place.” His grin got positively wicked.

  In the end, I didn’t care about his motivations. if he could help me understand how to overcome this restriction. If I could get Urg back, I’d feel better just for his presence alone. His power would undoubtedly come in handy in the upcoming struggle.

  I focused my attention on Tad with the same care I used when negotiating with a system interface. System Sight slid into place, and the world peeled back in layers I was only just learning how to read. His presence wasn’t a single authority or a unified signature. It was two distinct forces braided together, each reinforcing the other while remaining unmistakably separate.

  For just a moment, I imagined that I was seeing the world with green lines of code falling in front of my eyes à la Neo, but then I let the fancy go. The ability was called System Sight, but it was as much about feel as it was sight.

  The first force felt warm and expansive, like sunlight filtered through leaves. It carried growth, renewal, and an instinctive generosity that encompassed anything it fell upon. This was summer, and it resonated with life, momentum, and the idea that everything was meant to become more than it was. When I brushed against that authority, it acknowledged me and moved on.

  The second was colder and far more precise. Void authority was condensed, sharpened, and defined boundaries with absolute clarity. Where summer encouraged, Void selected. It felt surgical, deliberate, and deeply personal, as if every ounce of power had been weighed before being allowed to exist. Standing between the two, Tad was balanced, and that explained why the system tolerated him instead of rejecting him outright.

  What struck me most was what wasn’t there. I could feel the absence of the third Court, like a sealed door, not empty but locked, its outline etched clearly into the structure of Tad’s authority. He didn’t lack it because he’d been denied. He lacked it because it was never his to begin with. That distinction mattered, because it meant the system wasn’t waiting for him to claim it. It was waiting to see what he’d do without it.

  System Sight 11 >> 14

  I compared that to my own standing and felt the contrast immediately. I didn’t have authority here in the same way. I wasn’t recognized as native, royal, or bound. What I had instead was permission, broad and unsettling, to observe, interpret, and intervene. Where Tad was acknowledged by the Fey System, I was tolerated by it, and only because my own system vouched for me as something useful rather than something safe.

  That realization made the path forward clearer. Tad didn’t need to force anything. His authority already fit the framework of this world. I was the irregular element, the one who could push where the system preferred stasis. Together, we weren’t breaking rules. We were exploiting our overlap, using legitimacy from one side and leverage from the other.

  I pulled my awareness back and met Tad’s eyes. He was watching me closely, with the same quiet intensity he brought to everything that mattered. I nodded once, slow and certain, because now I understood what he could do and what he couldn’t. More importantly, I understood exactly where I fit into it all.

  “If we’re going to try to summon my eidolon,” I said quietly, “it has to be both of us. I can force the question, but only you can make the system accept the answer.”

  Tad didn’t hesitate. He nodded back, and in that moment, I knew we were past theory. The next step was action, and whatever resistance waited for us, we were about to find out how hard the Fey System could push when something truly new tried to enter its realm.

  I turned inward, letting System Sight slide along the familiar thread that connected me to Urg. That bond had always been deep, older than most of my other connections, anchored in shared growth rather than command. I was reminded that it was only because of Uncle Dan that I had Urg at all. It was an ability I’d inherited from him, even if I’d made it my own. Even now, with all the distance and interference, that connection thrummed steadily and patiently, as if he were simply waiting for the wall between us to fall.

  The resistance showed itself immediately once I tried to follow the bond outward. Wall wasn’t the right word. It was something closer to static, a constant interference layered over the connection. The Fey System wasn’t cutting Urg off directly. It was drowning the signal, flooding the space between worlds with noise that made coherent passage nearly impossible. I could feel the intent behind it, not hostile exactly, but defensive in a way that assumed anything outside the system was a threat by default.