Return of the Runebound Professor

Years of training were the only thing that let Garina keep her body still from the nervous energy pumping through her. She could do nothing but watch as Crone loomed over Vermil, staring down at the mortal’s extended hand.

Garina couldn’t remember the last time that she’d been so worried about a conversation. Even the revelation from the Prophet that Decras had sent for a mortal hadn’t shaken her like this. A distant part of her mind squirmed in unease.

This is what happens when you give yourself weaknesses. Ferdinand was a mistake. Getting attached to someone weaker than yourself is just asking to be hurt.

That part of her mind barely managed to squeeze out its protest before logic crushed it out. Garina only needed one look around the clearing to tell that her thought couldn’t have been farther from reality.

All the mortals that had stepped out to face certain death in a fight against her for Vermil’s sake had made that evident enough. Perhaps care was a weakness now, but if they managed to survive until they were powerful…

Such bonds were rare amongst powerful mages. Most of them didn’t get to where they were by being trusting. The path to power that Garina had walked was strewn in corpses and painted in blood. Most others of note had walked the path alongside her.

An entire group of high Rank 7 mages that trusted each other to this degree… the back of Garina’s neck prickled.

They would be able to destroy the Apostles. Even the Church of Repose is only held together by strained string and smiling faces that conceal blades in the dark. Everyone is in it for their own gain.

Unfortunately, Vermil’s group were not yet a small army of Rank 7 monsters. They were a smattering of weak mortals standing before the second Apostle.

“What game do you play at, Garina?” Crone demanded. “This pathetic little scruffy twig? You want me to believe this is your disciple?”

“It does not matter what you believe,” Garina said, letting derision seep into her words. She considered spitting on the ground but dismissed it. There was no need to get that crass. She nodded to Vermil’s hand. “Acknowledge my apprentice.”

“I will not,” Crone said. He ignored Vermil’s hand and reached up for the hilt of the huge sword hanging from his back. “I am not a fool, Garina. This is not your apprentice. This is the one we sought. You are attempting to hide him from me to collect the reward yourself.”

Fuck.

Whelp. No helping it, then. Between the Apostles or Ferdinand… these bedsheet wearing fuckers can eat dirt and so can Decras. It’ll be fun to see how I match up against Crone after all these years.

Garina ignored the nervous pit in the bottom of her stomach. She ignored the knowledge that if Crone really had kept training since they’d last fought, she’d be no match against him. There were some things that were just worth taking the risk for.

If I lose, I hope Ferdinand — no.

I’m not losing.

She started to shift into a fighting stance.

“Hey, shithead,” Vermil said, snapping his fingers like an impatient mother. “We were speaking.

The huge Apostle slowly looked back down to the mortal. His expression was unreadable, but Garina could feel the annoyance building within him like rising water crashing against a dam.

“You know not who you speak to. Be silent, wretch.”

“I know exactly who I’m speaking to,” Vermil replied. “Garina hasn’t kept me completely in the dark about the incompetent idiots she has to share a poor sense of fashion with. And frankly — what were you, Rank 7? That’s not nearly strong enough to be acting like such a cocky shit.”

Crone’s attention shifted fully away from Garina. “Are you seeking death?”

“Seeking dea— God, man. That’s your line? I think I’d kill myself if I ever said something that cheesy. Maybe you should focus your training on not sounding like an edgy twelve year old next. I know you’re young, but please. Try to have some respect for yourself.”Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Confusion gripped Crone. His hand hovered just above the hilt of his blade as he likely tried to figure out what was happening. If his theory about Vermil was correct — and it was — then killing the mortal would cause them to fail Decras’ orders.

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“You call me young?” Crone asked incredulously. “I was old before the wretched city you were born in had a single brick laid. Compared to me, you are a child.”

“Your age is measured in cities? That makes you… what, a few hundred years old? That’s cute. I was just speaking with Sievan a few days ago. I think we spent that long pondering on dinner.”

Crone tilted his head to the side. “What? How do you know that name?”

“We were visiting him a short while ago. Family field trip,” Vermil replied through a snort. “Are you dense? Why else would I go to the Damned Plains? For fun? It was for practice.”

“You — no. Impossible. I refuse to believe that Garina has a disciple. She couldn’t teach a dog to play dead. Why would any of us choose a pathetic mortal from Arbalest?”

Vermil let out a burst of laughter. “Oh, you are dense. Not only do you think that I took Decras’ rune, but you think I’m a mortal?”

Garina’s eyes would have twitched if she didn’t have such extensive control over them. Vermil had been heading down the right path for a moment there. She’d seen cracks starting to form in Crone’s defenses, but claiming to not be a mortal was the absolute worst move that Vermil possibly could have made.

Shit. This isn’t good.

“You sign your own life away with your lies,” Crone said. His hand closed down around the hilt of his sword. “Garina coached you.”

“Moxie?” Vermil prompted.

Without a word, Moxie drew on her Master Rune.

Crone stiffened. “Sievan’s power. But—”

“Sievan’s power,” Vermil mocked in the tone of an impudent child. “Idiot. What is it going to take to get this through your thick skull? Or are you going to insinuate that we managed to steal something from the Lord of Death as well? If that’s the case, I’d just start to worry that every single one of you was incompetent. I mean, seriously, how many people can get their runes stolen before you start wondering where the problem really lies?”

Crone’s fingers tightened. Then they relaxed. Then they tightened again. The man had never been the most intelligent of the Apostles, and the bafflingly aggressive manner that Vermil bore was enough to throw even Garina completely off balance.

I can’t even provide him any support. I don’t have the faintest clue as to what’s happening or what he’s planning.

“Your arrogance… just like Garina,” Crone said in disgust. “Perhaps her stench really has rubbed off on you. To not only meet Sievan but to give his rune away to a worthless mortal woman… unbelievable. You are a liar that spews filth, but if you are truly just her disciple, then it is only right for you to meet the Prophet.”

That bastard! This is a trap. The Prophet will see right through any bullshit and recognize Decras’ magic on the spot. We can’t let that happen.

Garina didn’t get a chance to say anything. Vermil’s features had sharpened in anger the moment that Crone mentioned Moxie and the man had already started to respond.

“No. We’re busy right now, and I’m not inclined to do anything you want until you apologize,” Vermil said.

Crone stared at him. “What?”

“You were wrong,” Vermil said. There was real anger in his words. “You insulted Garina. You insulted me. That calls for an apology.”

“And pray tell, what insult did I give you but the truth?”

“You said I was a liar,” Vermil replied. “You claimed that I was just a child.”

“You are.”

“I can prove that I’m not.”

Crone let out a dark laugh. “Is that so? Can you, now?”

“Quite easily. All you have to do is lower your domain and let me into your mind. I’ve got a Mind Rune. I’ll lay myself bare to you and we can see what I’m been lying about. And after that, you’re going to apologize to Garina and me — and then you’re going to fuck off.”

“And if you fail to prove that you are not a liar? How will you atone?”

“I’ll kill myself.”

Crone snorted. “No. If you are a liar, then you are the one we seek. I will need you alive. If you wish me to accept this deal, then Garina will kiss my boots when you are proven wrong. How does that suffice?”

Garina’s back stiffened. She nearly blurred into an attack on the spot. Crone had gotten even more arrogant since the last time they’d fought — or perhaps he was just trying to goad her into revealing their hand.

There’s no way I’m going to debase myself to that degree. There are limits to everything.

“Done,” Vermil said before Garina could say a word.

You squirmy little shit!

“Of course,” Vermil continued, his eyes darkening. “That’s a pretty nasty request. I think it’s only fair that you pay a deeper punishment if I’m not lying.”

“What? You wish for me to face the same punishment?”

“No. I don’t give a shit about your foot fetish,” Vermil replied. “If I’m right, I want you to perfectly copy one motion I do. It will take no longer than three seconds. That’s it.”

“Accepted,” Crone said without an instant of hesitation. Garina could feel his smirk from beneath his hood. “That is, assuming your mentor is willing to swear on it as well. Should she have any faith in her student, I’m certain it should be no issue.”

Anger pulsed in Garina with such intensity that it threatened to pour out of her ears. She forced herself to remain calm. Vermil had to be playing at something — but Crone hadn’t chosen his words lightly.

Any promises between the Apostles were sworn on Decras’ name. Breaking it was equivalent to calling down the wrath of every other Apostle.

If I agree to this… I’ll actually have to do it.

I swear to any god that’s listening, Vermil. If you haven’t thought this through, I’m going to fucking murder your entire family tree.

“I swear to it,” Garina said through clenched teeth.

“As do I. Look forward to what comes next, Garina,” Crone said with a dark laugh. He crouched before Vermil so they were both at the same head level. “My domain is relaxed, boy. Show me what it is you believe will prove that I am a liar. This will be fun.”

“It will be fun, but not for you.” Vermil set his hands on either side of Crone’s head. “Allow me to show you eternity. Empty Proliferation.”