Домагой Курмаич - Mother of Learning

For this particular meeting, he didn’t inhabit the usual golem body that most of Zorian’s simulacrums were equipped with these days. The less traces he left here today, the better. He was pretty sure he had covered his tracks well enough to stop Red Robe from knowing about this meeting, but it was still best to minimize risks.

"Well I’ll be damned. That’s not a piece of magic you see every day, that’s for sure," Haslush said, recovering his calm, lazy façade. "Are you sure you got the right person for this, though? This sounds almost like a job for spies and crown agents, not little old me. I’m just your average detective, Mister Kesir."

"For reasons that will soon become obvious, I can’t contact anyone particularly high ranked, or things will get really bad," the simulacrum said. He took out a large leather paper holder out of his jacket pocket, deliberately making the entire process visible to the man in front of him.

Haslush’s eyes widened imperceptibly when the simulacrum retrieved a large object from a jacket pocket it couldn’t possibly fit into. It was just a temporary pocket dimension, not even a permanent expanded space, but most people would have still never encountered that sort of thing in their entire life. More than even the simulacrum, pocket dimension creation was a rare form of magic.

"Please take a look at this," the simulacrum told the man, handing him a stack of pictures and documents before leaning back in his chair and patiently waiting.

Haslush cautiously leafed through the papers, periodically frowning and tapping his fingers on the table. His expression worsened as time went by, and at some point he ordered some really strong alcohol to get through the rest, but eventually he skimmed through the whole stack. There wasn’t enough time for him to comb through the whole thing, but even a casual glance through the documents Zorian gathered painted a grim picture.

"This is insane," Haslush eventually said, downing an entire glass of hard alcohol and slamming it on the table in front of him. Some of the nearby tavern patrons glanced at them curiously for a moment. "A full scale invasion of the city with the local mage guild in on the whole thing? How can something like this be real? A conspiracy this grant and far-reaching should be impossible to pull off."

"The invaders are using permanent gates – a concept that has not been known to exist until now. On top of that, the local authorities have been hopelessly infiltrated and are working with the invaders to cover up the whole thing. It’s very real," the simulacrum said.

"You’re one of them, aren’t you?" Haslush suddenly said. "A defector. That’s the only way you could possibly know all this and have this much evidence."

"I’m not one of them," the simulacrum insisted, "but they do have a certain amount of influence over me, or else I wouldn’t be moving in the shadows like this. If I go public with this, the results will be… disastrous."

"Really?" Haslush asked, raising his eyebrow at him. "A mage of your caliber…"

"I didn’t say I would die. Of course I can always run away and hide. I said the consequences would be disastrous ," the simulacrum clarified.

"More disastrous than the city being invaded by monsters, demons, and the undead?" Haslush asked dubiously.

"Yes," the simulacrum said.

Haslush waited for a second, but the simulacrum didn’t intend to clarify. What he was telling the detective was unbelievable enough without getting into the whole wraith bomb situation or the possibility of an army of dragons laying waste to northern Eldemar.

"Wouldn’t the same be true if I were to make this public?" Haslush asked.

"Yes," the simulacrum admitted. "To be honest, the enemy would instantly realize where you got your information from, so you trying to alert people to this would be no different than me doing it myself. Well, other than the fact you’d be much easier to silence than me."

"Lovely," Haslush said calmly. "So you don’t actually want me to make these documents known to anyone?"

"I obviously can’t stop you from doing what you feel is right," the simulacrum said. "But I wouldn’t recommend it, no."

"What do you expect me to do with this, then?" Haslush asked, waving the leather paper holder in front of him. He looked genuinely curious, rather than angry.

The simulacrum was actually rather impressed with how Haslush was behaving. Most people were either stubbornly disbelieving or had trouble thinking straight when something like this was dumped into their lap. In fact, Haslush wasn’t the first person they were contacting about this, and he wouldn’t be the last, but he was the one who had had the best reaction thus far. This didn’t mean he would end up being useful in the end, of course, but it was encouraging.

"I don’t know," the simulacrum said. "Although it may seem like I’m holding all the cards here, I’m actually not sure what should be done here. I’m not a professional spy or master manipulator. I’m hoping that you will know what to do with this better than I do."

Haslush stared at him quietly for a second before leafing through the pages a few more times. It was just an idle gesture. The simulacrum could see he wasn’t really reading things, just idly flipping through the documents and he mulled things over.

He eventually snapped the paper holder shut and pushed it aside before massaging his temples for a bit.

"This is insane," he said.

"Yes, you already said that," the simulacrum noted.

"Well, I feel like repeating myself," Haslush told him, giving him a weak glare. "I suppose this does help explain all the weird attacks and sudden deaths my department has been flooded with lately. Who else did you tell about this?"

"What makes you think I told others?" the simulacrum asked, surprised.

"Who?" Haslush insisted, not offering any explanations.

The simulacrum eventually relented and gave him some names. Kylae and the other priests in the city, which were slowly being informed about the invasion. Some of the shifters living in the city whose children were going to be used in the ritual. A few other policemen and detectives Zach and Zorian had identified as reliable while inside the time loop. And so on.

"That’s more people than I thought," Haslush noted. "Aren’t you afraid someone will talk?"

"It’s always a possibility, but I feel I judged people correctly," the simulacrum said. "I’m a mind reader, after all."

Haslush immediately graced him with a string of colorful curses before casting mental defense spells on himself.

"Of course you’re a mind mage, too…" the detective grumbled. "Anyway, since you so graciously left it up to me to decide how to handle this, I will visit these people and see if we can figure something out. But if we decide to go higher with this information…"

"Then everything goes to hell, probably," the simulacrum said. "Though… maybe that would be for the best. I don’t think there is a perfect answer to be had, here. Maybe triggering everything sooner rather than later is actually the right move, I don’t know. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you as much as I can… but I’m not all powerful. Don’t be surprised if you end up dead after talking to the wrong person."

"I’ll keep that in mind," Haslush said thoughtfully. "I’m still not tired of living, I can assure you that much. Plus, I know better than anyone how disgustingly underhanded the mage guild can be about protecting people who really don’t deserve state protection, just because they are useful in some way… but let’s not talk about that right now. Do you have anything else for me?"

"Yes," the simulacrum said, retraining a paper envelope sealed with ornate red wax. "Here, have this."