The sewer entrance stared impassively at Laurel in the basement of one of the official city government buildings. The slightly damp hallway was forgettable except for the stench seeping out from the stone door. The mortals probably didn’t notice but to the finely tuned senses of a master cultivator, this was torture. As it was, everything she was wearing would need to be burned later. She thought for a few minutes and then focused on the mana flowing in her head. It wasn’t something she’d ever mastered before, or even spent much time practicing but the last few years had seen her cultivation progress in leaps and bounds. With the lightest touch she could manage, air mana began swirling around her nose and mouth in an intricate pattern. The slight breeze filtered out enough of the stench that she no longer felt like vomiting. The working was subtle enough that gusts of wind weren’t going to be barreling down the tunnels either.
With one last fortifying breath of the mostly clean air, she pushed open the door, stepped inside, and started down a series of steps carved into the stone. The city sewers were a modern marvel of engineering. Or so Adam had told her. The foresight of the city founders to start them, along with the careful expansion over the centuries was one of the reasons the city had been able to grow as large as it had. She could appreciate that any other day when she wasn’t standing inside them. All she could think about was placing the natural treasure and then getting back out, and having a long, scalding hot shower.
Placing the natural treasures and anchoring the ambient mana was a finicky process. They had to be at the right intersection of the local mana matrix and the physical world to have the best effect. Too far off in either and they would end up with something at best ineffective, and at worst, an explosive failure. All of which meant she had to trek around the city to the best location for each addition to the mana network. Laurel had decided to start with the least dangerous and work her way up. A decision she was second guessing as it brought her deeper into the sewers.
A water attuned treasure would be a boon to a city this size. Not glamorous, but it would lessen the burden on the pumps that brought seawater up to the higher city districts. The purifying aspects would limit the impact on the environment and prevent some of the sicknesses that might crop up in such a densely populated area. After years of careful tending, the effects would extend to the harbor as well.
With her connection to the City Core and the understanding of the mana infrastructure that brought, Laurel continued her trek, confident in the route even without a map. A small lip of stone kept her out of the muck. She chose not to consider what residue might be splashing onto her boots and clothes as she navigated her way through the tunnels, and she gave thanks for being short enough to walk through without accidentally skimming the roof or sides. The occasional footprint or stray bit of rubbish pointed to more traffic than she might have expected down here. Not everyone was put off by the smell, it would seem.
Martin, the bastard, had absolutely refused to place any of the treasures. The rest of the sect had all mysteriously had chores, guild missions or important meetings to attend to when she announced her first location. Leander had looked like he was willing to make the sacrifice, but Rebecca had dragged the boy away for her own plans.
That was an aspect of running a sect she had no idea about. Without a doubt, she and her friends had been difficult to wrangle for their elders. They caused more than their fair share of mayhem and drama. But that was so long ago she had almost forgotten what it was like to be living the extreme highs and lows of adolescence and early adulthood. Now it was her job to keep young people with newfound magic powers from doing irreparable harm to one another.
It was funny, she could admit that. Almost a mirror of an argument she’d had with Imelda when they were at the same age and there was still a chip on her shoulder for being born to mortal parents. Hopefully they were able to work out any aggression with a formal challenge. When Laurel was young they told her challenges were about testing skills and proving themselves. That they were built into the foundation of the sect to keep cultivators pushing themselves forward. The last few days had convinced her the founders instituted them to keep conflict amongst the younger members contained and predictable.
Her musings had taken her all the way to the correct location. An otherwise unremarkable intersection of larger tunnels, grime-coated and full of a shallow, slow-moving sewage, this was the ideal place to anchor a water treasure, according to the Core. She let her focus drift and brought her spiritual senses to the front of her mind. Mana flows lit up, twining through the air and stone, and even into the sewage. Several of the flows merged together in the center of the tunnel and that was her aim. Grimacing, Laurel forced herself to step into the muck and walk to the center. The delicate nature of natural treasures meant she couldn’t float the things into place with air mana. She gagged as the sludge flowed around her ankles, thanking the stars above for high boots with good waterproofing.
She sank further into the connection with the Core, until the ephemeral and the physical held equal weight to her mind’s eye. Then she pulled out the Tear of Kasis. It had been growing out of the top of a waterfall on the Gavroz continent, where the mountains met the jungle. It was high enough that she’d had to fly up to get it, using air mana to split the water to flow around her rather than pushing her off the cliff. The Tear would be perfect for this. It was a water attuned treasure with mana that held a subtle ‘flowing’ flavor. It was a common one to seek out for water cultivators that focused on combat, improving their kinetic control if cycled correctly. She felt slightly bad about not being able to keep it for Helene, but water treasures were common and anchoring the mana infrastructure for the city was becoming more and more urgent. And the agreement with the king meant most of their loot needed to be spent strengthening the city and country as a whole. The hours she’d spent in talks with the Royal Council to decide their uses was a testament to that. It would be better for Helene to work for it anyway.
A thread of mana reached out from Laurel and connected with the anchor point. When she first started cultivating the City Core, this would have been impossible. But now she was able to pull control of the golden streams and bend them with an effort of will. She held up the jade box containing the Tear and opened it. The mana caught up the natural treasure. It floated, suspended by the force of the mana flowing through it and Laurel’s focus. With a thought, it slowly sank until it anchored itself to the rock below. As the last step, she imbued the flows around the Tear with an illusion and a hint of lightning as an unpleasant surprise for anyone stupid enough to try and sabotage her city.
Once it was stable, Laurel released her hold on the ambient mana. Instantly she could see the change. A small but steady stream of mana was being transmuted to water via the treasure. The area around it slowly cleared of muck as well. With everything in order Laurel hurried to retrace her steps and back out into the building and onto the street. Judging from the looks the smartly dressed locals were throwing at her, a trip back to the sect to change was needed before any other upgrades to the city.
*********
The weeks spent on the quality of life or logistic improvements had been uneventful. She was hesitant to consider a trip to the sewers a highlight, but it was the most notable location she’d ended up. Otherwise she had been on a tour of parks, factories, and other mundane areas that ended up being perfect locations for some of the natural treasures. Another set had been put aside for Lanport. Theresa would join her when she set up the defensive array to get an understanding of the process. One air treasure had also been gifted to George in apology for her overreaction on seeing him join the sect. It would help him nudge projectiles at a distance, perfect for his style.
But first, there was one more improvement to make. It had taken a full day of arguments amongst the Royal Council before the end use was decided. Laurel had spent the time referencing old manuals and communing with the City Core to try and list out every possibility. Gravity-attuned treasures were rare, and correspondingly potent. The Black Hole Obsidian they had found in the floating city had entire books dedicated to the theoretical possibilities, though the rarity was so high that few of those theories had ever been put into practice. It could have been used to fully control flight within the city. There were ways to make it into a potent construct that slowed all attackers, or any hostile projectiles. With enough effort they could have created their own floating island.
All those options had been deftly turned aside by Madam Curson’s arguments. When it came down to it, one option was going to be visible, help the mortal population, increase defensive capabilities and put some money back in the treasury that the recent beast wave had depleted.
Laurel strolled through the palace gates with a wave to the guards. They’d been told to expect her, but the amount of traffic coming through would have made it a nonissue anyways. Messengers sprinted back and forth, deliveries were being offloaded and a few nobles even loitered around, waiting for something worth gossiping about to happen. She took it in with a neutral expression, though inside she was riveted. Most of her visits had been made in the early morning, or had lasted well into the evening. The mortal bustle still fascinated her, more than a year after being forced to adapt to such bureaucracy. Laurel dodged the mortals and made her way to the administrative wing of the palace. There she was actually stopped and asked for identification, after which she was promptly brought to a private courtyard. Instead of loitering nobles and busy workers, there were guards standing at attention and an older woman looking at a page on a clipboard, checking something off a list. A wooden vehicle was lying on the ground next to the woman, with a young man standing to the other side and scratching his beard. It would have resembled a barge with railings wrapped around if it wasn’t firmly on dry land.
“Good morning. I believe our preparations are ready beyond a few final clarifications.” Madam Curson was not one to beat around the bush. “Your estimation was that there would be a limit on the number of routes we could set up. Have you confirmed what that limit is?”
“A good morning to you as well. And yes. It turns out it’s not so much the number of routes as the number we can set up at one time. We can set up one today, and then another next month when the Obsidian has time to rejuvenate, for lack of a better term. Once everything is in place today we can also slowly tweak the routes, though that will take mana as well.”
“And you can certify the safety?”
“I mean, if someone does something foolish I can’t certify they won’t hurt themselves. But it should be safer than any of the other methods of getting around the city.”
“Perfect. And the contract?”
“Signed and guild approved.” Laurel produced the packet of documents from her storage tattoo. It was practically a book, but the language had to be precise to make sure the guild and the sect were compensated fairly. At least Annette assured her it was all important and Laurel chose to accept that fact.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Madam Curson reviewed the entire document and gave a sharp nod. “Proceed.”
Laurel wandered over to the corner of the courtyard. The palace location had taken mana into account. The large mana flow that they were anchoring with the Obsidian was off-center and went through the walls. This courtyard was the best option they had to actually access it but it was an awkward place if anyone was expecting a show.
It took only the barest of touches to set the natural treasure into the mana flow. Her first experience with the Tear of Kasis had required her own willpower to force the mana flows to reroute through the treasure. The Obsidian grabbed hold of the local mana to start pulling it in on its own. Laurel had to react quickly to exert her own will. Without input, the natural treasure would drink in power until it slowly started aspecting the local mana. Then, as Reynard had feared, they would end up with a city where it was hard to breathe. Instead, Laurel sank into the ambient mana and ripped some out of the Obsidian. It would be an anchor, not a vessel. She struggled with the forces swirling around her until, with a flare, they settled firmly into place.
Laurel opened her eyes to darkness. A heartbeat later she realized the sun had set and she must have been communing with the natural treasure for hours. She swayed on her feet and stumbled to a chair set out for her. Madam Curson was calmly working at a desk that had been set up, an oil lantern providing enough light for paperwork.
“That was more intense than I expected,” Laurel said. Normal physical exhaustion wasn’t something she regretted leaving behind on her cultivation journey, having it come back was entirely unwelcome. Curson must have made some signal because an aide arrived next to Laurel with a small table and a tray of food, another appearing behind him with a flagon and goblet. It paid to be working in the palace and not the sewers. Laurel set to devouring the roast chicken and vegetables in front of her. While she tore at the food like a wild animal, Curson refocused on the task at hand.
“According to your notes, the next step is to work on the barge. Will that be possible this evening or should we leave you to have a moment with the chicken?”
Laurel grunted in response and swallowed her current mouthful, washing it down with the delightfully crisp ale. “Give me a few and we’ll be good to go. And who makes this beer?” She said the last to the aides still standing a discreet distance away. They stammered a reply which she tried to remember for later orders to the sect house. Once the plate was clear Laurel stood and stretched out. The rest and food had been more than enough rejuvenation for the next phase of the plan.
Wandering over to the barge she nudged awake the sleeping driver. Lanterns had been set atop several poles to let the mortals see what was going on, giving the whole scene a cozy glow. Madam Curson joined her. One of the ever-present aides set out yet another table in front of the women and Curson herself produced an intricately detailed map of the city.
“We’ve agreed on this route,” she said while tracing the line picked out in silver ink on the map. “From the port up through the major merchant districts. A building has been set aside here for evening storage. Do you need anything else?”
“Nope! Let’s do it.” With that, Laurel reached back out to the Obsidian. The process was a breeze, comparatively, now that the treasure was stable, and she directed a tendril of mana from the obsidian into the barge. The wood and metal shuddered as it was forced to absorb the aspected mana. It groaned and creaked, threatening to rip apart. At the same time she siphoned mana back out of the barge and into the route Madam Curson had traced out, sending it spiraling through the city. The noise crescendoed until it all cut out, falling off a cliff into a sudden silence. Smooth as could be, the barge rose half a meter into the air. Golden runes carved themselves into the front of their new transport method. Even a mortal would be able to operate it, though with less speed or responsiveness than a cultivator would.
Laurel was practically giddy. She had mostly adapted to Verilia, with the fast pace, the guilds, the steam engines and technology. But this moment still stopped her in her tracks. No cities from her own time had anywhere near enough population to support mortal flight. An extremely skilled enchanter might have managed it if they tried. Laurel was not an extremely skilled enchanter. Laurel was not really any kind of enchanter at all. She could follow simple directions and scripts but had lacked both the patience and the passion for crafting growing up. Now she made a wonder in an evening.
“Who’s up for a ride?” She turned to the others with a delighted grin. The guards took an involuntary step back. The aides’ faces drained of all color. The man selected to be the driver shook himself back awake.
Madam Curson put her paperwork into a neat pile and placed it in a drawer within the desk. “I think that would be for the best.” The older woman calmly stepped up using the platform affixed to the rear of the barge.
Laurel raised her eyebrows in silent question.
“What, you think I sat around all day watching and didn't intend to be on the maiden voyage? Absolutely not. Let’s get moving.”
That was enough to spur the others out of their cowardice and they all piled in. Laurel began instructing the pilot-to-be on what each rune did while the barge floated towards the route. Having already anchored it, the barge would always try to return to the same path if left to drift. They carefully guided the barge out of the side gate near their courtyard and slowly made their way to the merchant district and the storage shed. Once they left the palace behind, Laurel encouraged their height to increase, along with the speed. They soared over the rooftops at night. Twinkling candles and lantern-light puddled on street corners and spilled out of restaurants. Laughter and shouting filled the streets, while silence reigned in the sky.
Madam Curson was not one to let such a journey go to waste. “Now, let’s discuss fees.”
Laurel turned and listened to the councilor reiterate what had already been agreed upon. The city would charge a small fee for anyone using the barges to transport anything that can’t be held in arms. Individuals would be allowed to ride when there was space for no charge. A portion of the proceeds would be returned to the sect, and a portion of that would then go to the guild. Laurel listened while making occasional noises of agreement. All of this had been negotiated before they put any natural treasures in place but Meristans did love their administrative displays. She was saved when it was time to instruct the pilot on how to land and steer into the storage shed, a stout stone building flanked with city guards standing at attention. A carriage was at attention and once every door had been locked and double checked, the others were off back to the palace while Laurel was able to head home.
********
A full month had passed since the rest of the natural treasures had been anchored. The palace had forced a delay to take out newspaper ads and send old-fashioned criers to the less-literate districts. Anything they thought would allay panic when the defensive array went into place. It also gave opponents the chance to rant about magical dangers and untested experiments in their own articles. With the King making announcements and speeches supporting the effort, and calling back to the brave defenders in the last beast wave, most of the naysayers were silenced. Though Annette in particular was not willing to forget and had spent days strategizing tucked away with Sabrina.
For her own part, Laurel was happy for the time to prepare. This would require more of her than any other part of cultivating the City Core so far. She stood atop the sect house, at the peak of the dome. Martin stood next to her, holding a drink Esther had started making from preserved fruit, spiritual mint and carbonated water. Laurel couldn’t stand the stuff but Martin had taken one sip and sworn himself to Esther forever. The kids were mad about it, with the mint giving a subtle soothing effect after cultivation practice.
From their perch, they could see a street party beginning to form in a nearby empty lot. Vendors were frying dough behind temporary stalls, and a tavern tent was in the process of setting up, kegs stacked on pallets behind a raw-plank bar. The scene was repeated around the city. Far from panicking, when the populace was informed of the impending magic show, it had become an impromptu holiday. Laurel thought she saw Theresa Skycrest in that bit of management but hadn’t asked for confirmation. Those in the surrounding towns had flooded into the city. Some had even made the trek from far-flung cities.
They continued watching in companionable silence. Most of the dozen treasures needed for the defense were already in place, Laurel having carefully anchored them over the preceding week. Once the full array was activated, the city would have the option to activate defenses against both physical attack and magical effects. Not enough on its own to block something like the leviathan, but the smaller beasts in a horde wave would be mostly kept out. A permanent version of the hasty ward Martin and Devon had cobbled together. One final piece was remaining, a Sea Breeze. The air-attuned treasure that would float above the sect house. The expedition had happened upon it while flying over a beach in the Somorin Archipelago. Not rare or exceedingly valuable, as these things went, but with enough flexibility to center the city defenses around. Martin was currently letting the diaphanous treasure float a few feet away and then snatching it back out of the air.
“This would be so much easier if they’d agreed to build out walls,” Martin spoke up with a complaint he’d been voicing since Laurel first started negotiating. “Honestly L, if they built something across from just past the Fort to the cliffs, we’d be able to laugh off a beast wave like the last one.”
“I don’t disagree. But they’re stuck on threats like modern warships, they don’t want to spend the money to bring the stone in, even if we helped with the construction. And it would make them look weak to Laskar and other countries.”
Martin grunted at the familiar argument. “Whatever. I’m right. Let’s get this started.”
Laurel looked up and judged Martin’s timekeeping was spot-on and it was about noon, the agreed upon start time. Songs had started up in the fair areas. Time to put on a show.
One final time, she reached into the mana matrix around the city, reveling in the cumulation of months of effort. Instead of barely controlled swirling chaos, directed by sheer force of will, the mana was placid. A river flowing calmly through its channels, rather than a raging torrent flooding over the edge. She reached out to the other treasures waiting to be linked to the Sea Breeze. Earth treasures they’d buried or placed in tunnels below the city, ocean treasures deep beneath the harbor, ice treasures to sap energy from enemy attacks, and a solar treasure for a deep well of power. Already the connections were a complex web. In her spiritual senses she saw thin lines of golden light, mana flowing between the different anchor points, strengthening and becoming infused with a feeling of protection. Carefully, she pulled a tendril off of each.
It stretched her impressive focus to hold them all separate. Without letting any of the streams merge, she pulled them towards the air treasure in her hand. At the same time, her will reached out to the mana flows beneath the sect house, where the Core itself was anchored, and pulled upwards. The runes on the dome began to glow and mana streamed through. Dimly she could hear shouting, but she dismissed it. The only way out was through. Sweat dripped down her back.
The unanchored mana began to fight her. Having been pulled from the more stable flows, it sought to spread out or return to its previous state. Laurel dredged up more willpower from deep within.
For a moment she flashed back to her life before. A thriving sect of warriors and scholars, traveling the world for adventure, and her closest friends. Imelda, Farin, and Martin, coming up with ridiculous schemes and then somehow seeing them through. She had let go of the hope of seeing the others again.
Then she was in the present, watching Borin’s pyre burn through the night. Adam and Annette, joking and complaining but taking a risk to help her revive the sect. The students who’d trusted Laurel to lead them to something incredible, and to keep them safe on the journey. A city and a country who’d given them a place to grow.
With a cry, she wrenched every strand of mana she was holding. As one, they all linked into the Sea Breeze. A spiritual click, and the strain cut out like it had been her imagination the whole time. The array was anchored.
Laurel slumped down and sat on top of the dome. Through her still-closed eyes she could feel the golden glow dimming to its normal state. Martin settled beside her. She forced her eyes open, she was exhausted, but there was no chance she would miss what happened next.
It started slowly. Most of the revelers were too far away to notice. Around the edge of what the Core defined as the city, a golden glow blossomed out of the earth. At first it was just a ring. Then the gold began to expand. A wall of shining mana stretched up. At first it was straight up and down. A replacement for the wall Martin bemoaned the lack of. Then it ever so slightly curved inwards. Martin and Laurel’s spiritual perception was strong enough to watch the same progress happening in a mirror image, underground and underwater. At several dozen meters, the partiers could see the glow at any distance within the city. They could hear cheers from the myriad fairgrounds, from the nearby Flats to the University on top of the hill, and every walk of life in between.
Laurel leaned back on her hands to watch as the mana closed in a dome over the city over the course of half an hour. In the moment when the mana sealed together, the entire shield brightened. For the mortals they would need to look away; Laurel and Martin watched the whole thing. The flare lasted only a moment, and the dome faded out of sight. It was still there though. Her spirit felt it as a blazing barrier, with a clear warning to anyone attempting to transgress against the city.
“We’ve done it,” Martin said. “I give you a Town!”
Laurel cackled. They had indeed created a Town in the classical sense, having anchored the local mana flows into something useful and safe for most cultivators. In another time, this would be the accomplishment of a fledgling sect and a few thousand souls. Not over a million, though the sect could still be called fledgling. They took the rest of the day to relax together and reminisce about absent friends. Something they avoided all too often.
“They’d be proud of us, L,” Martin said. “No one would have expected you and I to create something like this.”
“I hope you’re right.”
