Epilogue
Tara Lisana sat down, relieved, at her desk. Never in her entire life had she been so grateful to be back from a mission, but Edwin always managed to surprise her.
And surprise her he had. She hadn’t been certain why Emperor Xares had decided against scouring the entire region to bedrock immediately after her Remote Report, but once again his clarity proved prudent. Ultimately, it would only be a minor headache for others to deal with, and thankfully not her. The new magistrate would need to be dealt with by the governor, of course, and the Registration Council would need to dispatch practically a legion of Registrars to come to terms with the new city of mages they had to deal with.
At least the Blood Hive had been dealt with, once and for all. She had even gotten a Champion of the Empire path for slaying a moderate threat to Liras, so she knew that it had genuinely taken the last time.
She still did not understand what exactly the Adventurer had done, but it apparently involved setting people on fire from the inside, and Tara was starting to feel slightly relieved that he seemed at least nominally aligned with the Empire.
Not that he would present any kind of grave threat, of course, but he would definitely be a nuisance if he so chose, and with him aiding them he might prove an even more valuable asset in time. It had only been two years, after all, and he had already revolutionized Skill acquisition and the entire path of Alchemy.
She idly sorted her way through her reports, fingers brushing against stone upon stone as each informed her of something ongoing. There were reports of a minor elven incursion in a town by the Verdant, a new band of Outlaws had sprung up further north, Lefi had picked up a new protege and was flagrantly defying several ordinance laws in the towns he’d been passing through, she’d have to pick him up and and assign him some banal task as punishment. Or perhaps she could throw him at the elves.
Regardless, there was more work to be done.
First, however, she was going to take a well-earned day to decompress.
A faint ripple of magic bursting out from the northwest, echoing of blood, fire, and flowers, swept over their little campground, and Lefi looked up in surprise. He most certainly hadn’t been expecting to feel a magical pulse originating from Edwin, Inion, and the Snowbird. Just what had happened, and what was the bloody sensation which underpinned it all? He would have to wander that way once he got the chance, but for now Bob- Lefi chuckled to himself once again at the little trick he’d lifted from Edwin, and the levels it had come with- needed time to find his feet away from any other major influences.
The boy had potential! Serious potential, if only he could be persuaded to look past his own misery for just a few moments.
That thought brought Lefi’s musings back around to Edwin. He could only hope that the lad learned to stop hating himself as well, as he had far more potential than even Bob. Possibly even more than the Snowbird, for all that that was a stunning thought. He just needed to start trusting himself and his Skills a bit more, because what a treasure trove of Skills it was!
Normally, Lefi was able to use his Mirror Power Skill directly to unlock new Skills for himself, but with Edwin everything was so tightly built around two Skills which Mirror Power didn’t help him unlock, though not for lack of trying. One, some kind of System-connection Skill, was the highest level Lefi had ever seen on a Skill (outside of himself, of course) was flatly impossible for him to mimic even with Perfect Reflection and Copy Skills at full usage, and the other- Mana Infusion, he’d been informed- simply refused to work properly with his own reflection-like Mana.
It should have worked great, he’d managed to copy the Snowbird’s mana and Skills well enough after all, but there was something fundamental which he was missing about Edwin’s mana Visualization that stopped him.
It didn’t matter that much. He’d gotten an item conjuration Skill, a new form of Flight, several alchemy-related Skills, and even Alchemy itself from the lad. He had no grounds to complain.
But as he shook his head and turned his eyes back to where Bob was sitting against a shady tree, he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on with Edwin’s System-access Skill.
He’d figure it out eventually. There was no rush.
Giashal was having a very good day. Not only had the True Outsider not blown himself up with his absurd alchemy stunt, but he also got to watch the System whir and click (metaphorically, of course, it was far too nonphysical to actually make noise) as it pieced together what exactly had happened to hundreds of people as their souls were heavily edited twice in quick succession. It was always so satisfying, and had only thrown a single error for him to review!
Moderating the System was something of lonely work, but one of the perks was that he could give himself whatever Skills he desired, assuming the System knew how to create it. This included a rather fanciful version of Summon Food, so he toasted himself for a job well done.
While his communication and ability to affect Joriah was intentionally sparse, he was still so glad he’d managed to apply a couple protective skills as True Outsider Maxlin had slipped in from worlds beyond worlds, somewhere past even the furthest reaches of Void. The kid was an absolute riot, and just what he’d needed from the monotony that was the Lirasian Empire.
It’s not like he really blamed them, their Registrar program did exactly what the System itself was designed to do, but it did mean there were very few novel Skills which passed across his metaphorical desk for review and more in-depth study. But with the splash that Maxlin and the Seasonal Dancer had made- with a little nudge from him, anyway- he was bound to see all sorts of new mages pop up once the Registrars figured out how to unlock magic within people. And new mages meant new spells, and new spells meant better Skills for everyone.
He took another sip of his wine.
To the True Outsider!
It had been quite some time since she had felt at peace, but Inion could safely say that she was enjoying it. While as a fairy, her thoughts were unusually constrained compared to how they normally were, it also meant she was able to experience emotions in a way typically impossible for fey. She could see why so many of her kin liked it, though she was still somewhat undecided.
After all, the drawback of her Rules linking her to a single individual was that if that person was, oh… mistrustful and skeptical of everyone, that same attitude would bleed over to her. It was akin to, if she were understanding the phenomenon properly, waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Though sleep was still something of a novel experience, she definitely could relate. And even with the downside, she could hardly blame Edwin for what she’d done to herself.
That was another change! She was far more liable to blame herself rather than anyone else. Considering how antithetical the concept had been in Arcadia and how the Bond tended to lessen the other’s tendencies slightly, she could only imagine how much Edwin must blame himself for everything, at least by default. He was remarkably well-adjusted for someone with so many bad habits, and now that he’d seemingly gotten a handle on his fundamental mistrust of others, she had finally found herself once again at peace.
Rillah was a pleasant conversationalist as well. While her memories of first meeting the woman were distorted by the emotions they’d been tainted by in the succeeding months, Inion was able to once again properly appreciate the half-elf’s music and insight into the world. It was quite refreshing, and so very mortal.
That was why she had decided to come along for this grand experiment all those years ago. An escape from the gods, an opportunity to strengthen her own soul, and a mortal experience? It was all so perfect.
Perhaps she would be able to nudge Edwin’s Skill acquisitions. His Arcadian Elixir was in almost the perfect position for an Agelessness Skill, and Fey’s Caress made him so close to transcending mere humanity he might well manage true Immortality as soon as Tier 4. Once he’d accomplished that, the entire cosmos opened up to them, not just this tiny little bubble of reality.
She couldn’t wait.
