Andrew Rowe - On the Shoulders of Titans

Lesser Identify just told me the specific mana type of the strongest enchantment on each.

The axe and spear, as well as the armored shirt, had enhancement as their strongest magic type. That was unsurprising; enhancement was the standard mana type for both making items harder to break and for making weapons hit harder.

The bow and the boots had air.

The boots were almost definitely levitation boots, which would have saved us a tremendous amount of trouble if we’d had them a few minutes earlier. That was probably also an element of the goddess’ sense of humor.

The bow I was less sure about, but air magic to guide arrows or make them fly faster made sense.

I couldn’t get any results from the bottle, presumably because the liquid was the magical part.

I didn’t try casting Lesser Identify on the liquid because I knew some liquids — like the primer I’d taken from the fountain — reacted to magic being cast on them. I’d have to find a better way to figure out what it was for.

We decided we’d need to figure out what the items did in detail before we split them up permanently, but that we’d hand out some temporary assignments for the moment.

The boots only fit Marissa, so she took those and shoved them in her pack.

Patrick took the spear. He already had a magic weapon, but he said having one with more reach would be useful.

Sheridan took both the hatchet and the bow. As the only actual Citrine-level person there, it made sense for them to have a larger share of the spoils.

I threw on the shirt of leaves. It required moving my silver phoenix sigil to my pants and taking off my other shield sigil entirely to prevent them from overlapping, but it was a Citrine-level defensive item. Marissa didn’t want it — she was worried about it ruining her mobility — so I was the next best candidate.

I stored the potion in the Jaden Box.

We counted up the gold pieces — there were only twenty of those — and split them evenly. It was still a lot of money.

There were so many other coins that I just shoveled them all into the Jaden Box and stored them to distribute later.

When we were done and recovered, we headed to the doorway with the up arrow and opened it.

On the other side of the door, there was a glowing portal, rather than a stairway.

I glanced at Sheridan.

“Not unusual. There’s usually only one physical stairway on each floor. You’re stepping in a teleporter any time you go into another part of the spire, anyway. This is just a fancier version.”

I nodded at that. “I’ll go in first.”

Mara stepped up next to me. “Right behind you.”

I stepped into the portal.

When my vision cleared, I was in the center of another room.

It was pure white, and mostly empty, save for a pair of regal-looking doors about twenty feet away from me.

I glanced behind me, finding another door of the more routine variety on the opposite side of the room. The ceiling was a high one, probably dozens of meters up.

I waited, but my friends didn’t appear next to me like they should have.

Instead, the doors across me opened, and someone stepped out from between them.

“Hello, little brother. I’ve been expecting you.”

Five years had changed Tristan Cadence a great deal, but visually, he was much the same.

He was tall, with the athletic physique of a professional duelist, and the impeccable confidence to match. His brown hair was our mother’s, but it had grown much longer in his time away from home.

He may have had characteristics that mirrored our father as well, but I chose to ignore those.

Tristan wore a formal tunic that trailed to his feet, and a sword belted on his hip. He slowly shook his head. “I warned you not to come here, but I knew you wouldn’t listen.”

He opened his arms wide. “Welcome to my humble home.”

I glanced from side to side. “Where are my friends?”

Tristan chuckled. “They’re fine. They went straight to a safe room on the next floor. I made special arrangements for when you passed through that doorway.”

I nodded slowly, examining the area further. “Was this all a part of your plan, then? Telling me not to come here, just to encourage me to do it?”

“No, no. I was sincere about that. It really was dangerous for you to come here, and you shouldn’t stay long. We’re both in danger right now. But since you made it obvious you were too stubborn to leave from written instructions alone, I decided it would be wise to tell you directly.”

I took a breath. “We can leave just as soon as you’re ready to go.”

Tristan laughed. “If it was that simple, I’d have left a long time ago.”

I’d expected that answer. I frowned, scanning the area again while I considered my approach.

Tristan frowned. “You’re being awfully quiet. I assumed you’d object more strenuously.”

I turned my eyes back to him. “I’m looking for traps.”

“This isn’t that sort of room. Not that I blame you for checking, of course.”

Thinking of Tristan himself, I wasn’t entirely certain I agreed. His appearance here could have easily been a trap in itself.

I turned my attunement on.

He registered as having a Sunstone-level aura. Ordinary for his age, nothing like monstrously powerful youths like Derek or Elora.

I nodded to myself.

He’s probably suppressing his shroud.

I took a few steps forward. “Before we discuss things any further, I should confirm something. How can I be certain that you’re Tristan and not an illusion or trick?”

“Ah, good, we’re getting to that part already. Shall I tell you another story about our youth?”

I shrugged. “A simulacrum could tell a story.”

“Ah. Nothing I can do is going to prove I’m not a copy of myself. I can, however, at least convince you that I’m something with Tristan’s memories, and not a trap by someone else?”

I folded my arms. “A bit of transference mana could test if you’re a simulacrum.”

Tristan blinked. “You want to hit me with mana?”

“It won’t hurt. Probably.”

Tristan sighed. “Does it even matter if I’m a simulacrum or not?”

“I’d really like to know. Someone else could control a simulacrum. Get you to say anything they want you to.”

“Humans can be controlled, too.” Tristan took a few steps closer. “Don’t you recall what happened to Derek?”

“You’re not exactly inspiring confidence by pointing out there are other ways you could be deceiving me.”

Tristan waved a hand dismissively. “Fine, fine. I’m not lying, though. It really is me. And you can run your little test.”

I channeled just a bit of transference mana in my hand, walked to a few feet away, and blasted him with it.

Tristan rubbed his shoulder, but he didn’t evaporate. “Satisfied?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. Give me your hand.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to flood you with purified mana to attempt to free you from mental compulsion, since you pointed out you could be controlled by someone else.”

Tristan laughed. “I suppose that wouldn’t hurt anything.” He reached out his hand.

And, for the first time in five years, I held my brother’s hand.

Then I bombarded it with mana.

Tristan made a perplexed expression. “That tingles a little.”

“You’ll be fine.”

I waited until I’d given him what I approximated to be about fifty mana before releasing my grip.

“That felt a little odd…but no, I’m not mind controlled, Corin. This is really me. Are your tests done?”

“Those parts are, at least. Now, tell me something obscure that Tristan would know.”