139 – Knowledge is Power

Mal remained frozen, locked in place. Philo had furrowed his eyebrows together, his shoulders tense through his robes. Igna’s eyes wandered toward Mal, the accusation written clear across her face. Even Lucia had turned to look at him, eyes unblinking and piercing as a double-edged sword.

Mal obviously needed to play his cards right. Being associated with the servant of an Endbringer would only invite further scrutiny—rather worrying, given that Igna seemed to be on the verge of locking him up in a dungeon for the sake of interrogation. He somehow needed to deflect the suspicions of everyone around him, and he needed to do it instantaneously.

Clarin shifted. “It seems my presence was a surprise.”

Mal shifted his posture toward Clarin. He was the wild card in the room. Mal also needed to gain information about how much Clarin knew and how much Clarin would reveal.

First, gather information and try to scope out the situation.

“Why have you been wanting to see me?” Mal asked. “There really isn’t much of interest to take note of.”

Clarin chortled. “No, I don’t think that’s true.”

Nothing too damning. A mysterious comment, but it could be taken in several ways. Just as Mal was about to reply, Clarin continued speaking.

“Yes, you’re a part of the cycle, aren’t you?”

Damn it all to hell.

“What cycle?” Rolam asked. “What are you talking about?”

“The cycle, boy.” Clarin faced Rolam. “The eternal battle between the Endbringers and the Heralds.”

“Mister Patoal, a Herald?” Igna said. “How absurd.”

Mal had never been so thankful for his teacher’s utter lack of faith in him.

“Why are you even here? No, scratch that—how are you even here?” Mal said. He looked over at the two Draconids who’d escorted him. “And why are you indulging the whims of someone who was a servant of the previous Endbringer?”

“Because I see things,” Clarin said. “I predict disasters, gains—the Violeko Empire finds me quite useful. In exchange for the occasional prophecy, I’m treated rather well.”

A seer? So that’s how he knew who Rolam was. And likely how he knew who Mal was.

But how much did he know, exactly?

“Oh yeah? If you’re a seer, can you predict this?”

Rolam reached his tongue up to the tip of his nose.

Mal suppressed the urge to audibly sigh.

“I am afraid my powers of prophecy have diminished over the years,” Clarin said. “There was once a point where I could have told you the number of stitches on your shirt. Those days have long passed.”

He approached Mal. Unsure what to do, Mal stayed still.

“With me. We have five minutes.”

He walked over toward an empty room in the inn and opened it up. He stepped inside. He looked back. Mal looked back at the others. The draconids nodded at him. Igna continued to stare.

Mal knew that going in would invite further scrutiny, but he didn’t know what else to do.

He turned and followed Clarin into the room.

Mal shut the door behind him. Clarin walked around the room in a circle, running a hand along the wall. His palm lit up, and Mal smelled the sterile scent of an unaligned spell being cast. White mana particles flowed off of his hand and into the wall, coding in it in some sort of thin, translucent layer.

“A way to prevent our conversation from being heard.” Clarin looked back at Mal. “Now, I have a number of questions I'd like answered.”

“I could say the same,” Mal said.

Clarin laughed, his bony shoulders shaking against his black cloak.

“I'll begin. Are you aware of who you are?”

“I'm Malfrasius Patoal, and no one else.”

“Liar. I can see it in the way you carry yourself. You have a destiny, and you know it.”

“And what exactly is my destiny, O seer?”

At that, Clarin’s smile shifted into a grimace.

“It's changed,” he said. “There was a path for you before, then one day—it was as if the world split in two. Even the brand upon your hand has changed.”

Mal couldn't suppress the sudden intake of breath. Is he saying that I've been freed of the brand of the Endbringer?

Or perhaps he's simply saying that it looks different. The brand does change apperance from Endbringer to Endbringer.

“How did you do it?” Clarin asked. “How did you break fate?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Clarin’s foot tapped against the ground. “Come now, boy. I've been around for more than a hundred years. I've seen the rise and fall of empires. I have no time for games.”

“If you're more than a hundred years old, I think you have time for anything.”

Clarin hissed.

“Impetuous.” He sighed. “Though I would expect nothing less from one marked by Eternus.”

Mal thought through what he needed to ask.

After a few seconds, he knew there was only one key point.

“Are you planning to tell anyone about your little theory?” Mal said.

“Why? Would it bother you if I did—?”

Mal’s dagger was touching Clarin’s throat before he even really realized what he’d done.

A single drop of blood rolled down Clarin’s skin and soaked into his tunic.

Clarin went perfectly still. “Get that thing off me. It tickles.”

Mal didn't move.

“Your point is taken. Not a soul will hear of my suspicions.”

Mal pulled his dagger away and hid it back underneath his robes. “Good.”

The man laughed. “You remind me of your predecessor. Decisive, calm, ruthless. They're admirable traits, really. He would have been a great leader had it not been for the meddling of Eternus, and that damned cycle.”

“If he was anything like me, Eternus probably did the right thing.”

The sort of actions that Mal did—that he'd just done—were good in the short run, and on certain personalities, but they couldn't be applied at scale. If nothing else, the way everyone had rallied to support the heroine had taught him that.

Clarin, in Mal's eyes, was a fool. The man was stuck in a past long forgotten, and a willing slave to the Violeko Empire.

But even so, he was a seer, and that meant…

“How do I rid myself of the specter that's haunting me?” Mal said.

Clarin’s eyes flickered just to the side of Mal, behind his ear.

“I was wondering when you would ask me that.” He fell silent for a few seconds before he responded. “I'm afraid that all conventional means will fail against someone like her. I can't quite make out why, or who she is, but I can tell that much. You'll need to speak with someone of great power. An Archon, Eternus. Perhaps even an elder god, if you can find one.”

Mal kept a straight face at the mention of an elder god. "Is that so? Thanks for the advice."

Mal didn't want to have to speak to Golial again. Using him for one ritual was already a bad idea, but at the same time, Mal needed to be rid of the specter.

"One more piece of advice," Clarin said. "The next thing you must work on is your ability to cast hexes."

"What's a hex?"

"A type of witchcraft spell. A way for you to close the ground with your wizardly peers. The beastpeople of the north specialize in Hexes. It won't be hard to find a book that will get you started. And with your dual affinity, there will be some interesting potential uses and combinations to play with."

He knew about my witchcraft?

Mal resisted the urge to attack Clarin. He nodded. "I'll keep it under consideration."

Mal walked over to the door.

"Oh, Malfrasius?"

Mal stopped and glanced back.

"The new path you've created—you know that it still ends with your death, yes?"

"I didn't, but I'm not surprised."

Mal opened the door and exited out.

Philo, Rolam, and Igna all had their ears pressed against where the door used to be.

Philo tipped over and crashed into the floor, while Rolam instantly stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets, looking away toward a convenient spot on the ceiling. Igna stared directly at Mal, as if daring him to call her out.

"I trust that you heard plenty?" Mal said.

"It all came through as mumbling." Igna straightened her back and stood to her full height. "What did you two talk about?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"You were in a room with a former servant of an Endbringer. I think I'm entitled to at least have a summary."

"Mostly we talked about our taste in women," Mal said. "He apparently likes gingers, I'm more into dark brunette to black."

Lusia glanced, reached up, took a strand of her hair, and put it in front of her eyes. Upon seeing that, Rolam seemingly choked on his own spit and doubled over.

Odd. What was that about?

"Be serious," Igna said. "This is no time for jokes."

"He did say something about my destiny," Mal said, "but it all was incoherent and rambling. I really wouldn't take much stock in what the man says. It sounds to me like the years have worn away at his mind."

"He's probably right."

One of the two draconids stepped forward. He glared at Mal, then his expression was wiped away into neutrality. "He's begun giving false prophecies. It only recently started, and most of the time he's still accurate. Even so, I think this is a false positive."

This was surprising to Mal. The old man seemed to have a clear head when he'd spoken to him—and he'd been right on the money about who Mal was, though Mal had been careful to avoid outright confirming his suspicions.

Then again, the ravages of time come for everyone. And unlike the elves, humans aren't naturally long-lived. There was a good chance that Clarin had begun to lose touch with reality.

All the better for Mal. If at any point he chose to disregard Mal's warning and expose who Mal was, there was a good chance he simply wouldn't be believed.

Igna stared at Mal for a little bit before she clicked her tongue. "I see."

The two Draconids passed by them and opened up the door. As a group, the both of them and Clarin stepped out and walked toward the exit. Clarin passed by Mal, and cast a knowing gaze at him, before quickly looking forward. The three left the building, leaving Mal and the rest of the group in silence.

Igna looked at them. She put on her smile and said, "As much as I would wish to interrogate you, I also have to get in touch with the local Magic Academy and get things taken care of. I want you all to stay here and not cause any more trouble."

"Sure."

"That's the honorable thing to do!"

"Philo sees no objections to that."

"Yes."

Igna looked over them one more time, her eyes pausing on Mal for a few seconds longer than necessary. She then turned around and exited out of the building.

Rolam looked at Mal. "We're totally going to explore the city a bit more, right?"

Mal nodded. "Yes."