[Omen of the Witchblade] Chapter 118 – The Empyrium Gem

In some ways, it was as if Mel never left Brookmoors. The petty jealousies and rivalries resumed right where they had left off. People mostly talked about their experiences in the Convocation, but it was all done with typical Magi flair.

Sylvie constantly tried to outdo her brother, Hal, and his stories. Somehow Komachi always made Sylvie seem like the Magical Girl protagonist in a cheesy show no matter how minor the tale.

Mel soaked in the warm ambiance of friends regaling each other with their own near-death escapades. She even shared a few of her own, though mostly she enjoyed listening to everybody else.

A small part of her remained vigilant, however. No matter how much she enjoyed these moments, she had to remind herself that somebody at that table had killed her.

Somewhere in their stories and woven tales was an inconsistency that she might be able to pluck and pull. Unraveling the lies until she arrived at the cold hard truth.

That day was somewhere far off, however. Mel wasn’t a detective, and any Magi worth their mana would know how to keep their guard up. At least until it was obvious that her memories weren’t going to return.

Which they won’t, Mel assured herself. She knew now that these were not her Magi. Somewhere out there, Deklin–her Deklin–was wondering where she was.

There’s still the mystery of what happened on Aldim. How did I end up leaving?

Too many questions and not enough answers. Mel couldn’t keep chasing ghosts. She needed something concrete to work on. For now, she returned her focus to the Convocation and her role in that.

Through the Convocation, she might be able to reveal her killer’s identity. It would be easy to keep one’s guard up without all the threats surrounding them. Once they were in the next trial, it would be a very different story.

I need to dangle myself like bait, Mel realized.

Either her killer would try again, or they would let slip something. The stress of the Convocation trials would crack the strongest mind.

You certainly went a little crazy there for a bit.

That was when she remembered her dead friends.

Mel had nearly forgotten about the rewards in escrow until someone brought it up in passing. So far, the top teams hadn’t received their rewards yet. They were scheduled to receive them the next morning.

“What’s the [Golden Voucher] for?” Sylvie asked, wrinkling her freckled nose. Wooly Komachi peered up at the girl, then copied her expression adorably.

“No one knows, or those that do, aren’t telling,” Miranda said. The vampyr shifted in her small seat. She was even taller and larger than Gwen. She ate different dishes than everyone else. Red dishes made with blood.

“It’s clear what the [Revival Scroll] does,” Charlie remarked, eyes shadowed by the brim of her dark witch hat. It was stupid how much prettier she was than just about any other Magi. She had to do something to achieve that. “And yet the question stands…how many does this item return to the living? And what are its limitations?”

A number of the Magi looked varying degrees of uncomfortable about that.

Mel looked at her friends on either side. “Technically speaking, our loot went into a [Gold Exile Chest],” she explained. “We’ll need to decide what to do with it. All of it.” She looked at the others, then at Charlie. “I know this goes against a lot of what makes us…well, us, but if we pooled our resources, we might be able to do something greater than any single group.”

Hal furrowed his brow. His dark brown eyes were thoughtful. “What, like bulk purchasing supplies for the next trial?”

“Bigger.”

“Going all in on materials and ingredients for wholesale prices?” Victor asked.

“Bigger,” Mel pressed.

Charlie looked pensively at Mel, a small smile curling the edges of her lips. “This has something to do with that voucher of yours.”

Mel nodded. “I heard some things about what it might be able to do in passing. I’ll know tomorrow for sure, but it must be something we’ll all agree on. Otherwise, I’ll just get an ultra-blinged out twinblade for myself that can kill god and be done with it.”

That made an uncomfortable laugh ripple through the Magi. One that Gwen didn’t share. Or Shrubley. He didn’t seem to get it, whereas Gwen looked like she was fantasizing about a weapon of such might.

Charlie pounced on that statement fast. “Let’s hold off on murdering gods. We have more than enough enemies to have fun.” Her breathy voice carried an unyielding pull on all their attention. Even the skeleton exchange student, Cal, was unusually enchanted by the Necromancer.

It was weirdly interesting how expressive a skull could be.

“That dragonfolk leader was Iron rank,” Logan put forth, using the longest string of words Mel had heard from the cowboy Magi yet.

“Actually, I think he is High Iron,” Charlie added. “The reporters let that slip. He won’t like that we made a spectacle of beating his lackeys.”

“And then there’s this,” Mel said, taking out the [Empyrium Gem] and setting it on the table. She kept it trapped under her index finger and made it spin along one of its points like a ballerina.

[Empyrium Gem]

(Catalyst, Item)

(Legendary)

Throughout the multiverse, and Shardrunes both big and small, empyrium gems are accumulations of Order itself. Prized for their power to create system-recognized Orders, these gems are valuable beyond measure.

Imprint: Creates a Convocation-sanctioned Order. Cannot be used within a trial.

“What is that?” Ashera asked. “It looks familiar.”

Charlie’s hand twitched, as if she stopped herself from taking the jewel. Glittering purple and green fairy dust sparkled on her fingertips. Hush slithered down Charlie’s arm and wove around all the plates on the table to rejoin Mel.

While everybody’s eyes were focused on the [Empyrium Gem], Mel scanned their faces for clues. She was playing a dangerous game.

More to the point, Charlie had clearly gotten the upper hand with that dragonfolk stunt. Mel couldn’t be seen to be subservient to her or even grateful. It was also clear that the Necromancer had talked to the Magi when she left.

There was no other reason for their sudden reversal.

Now that they had settled in, Mel figured it was time to remind them who had won the Convocation.

Charlie rose, her fine black dress swaying as she moved closer to the [Empyrium Gem]. Mel held it up for her. Charlie studied the jewel intently, reading the Shardscript. “Yes, this is exactly what we need.”

“How about you tell those of us who can’t see it!” Miranda demanded.

Hal’s eyes, alone out of all the people there, sparkled with recognition, but he didn’t say anything.

Curious.

“It is an Empyrium Gem,” Charlie explained. “A jewel that specifically creates a ‘Convocation-sanctioned Order’.”

“Why would we want to start a Guild?” somebody asked.

“We’re Magi. We don’t do well in groups!” another said.

“Speak for yourself. Our group did better than yours.”

“Only because you were closer to the mountain! If you had to go through the catacombs like we did–”

The arguments erupted all across the table as old slights and grudges were brought to the surface. People pointed fingers and began playing that age old favorite of the Magi: the blame game.

Charlie’s sapphire blue eyes fell on Mel’s, unbothered and untempted by the bickering breaking out all around them.

Despite the rivalry between them, Mel couldn’t help the way her stomach did little flips whenever Charlie looked at her like that. She was different.

She understood that they would need to rise above their petty grievances.

Yeah, good luck with that.

That smirk curled the edges of her lips again. She took Mel’s hand, pulling her to her feet. Probably to make it seem like they were in an even position of power.

“Have you forgotten Brookmoors?” Charlie demanded, cutting through the arguments without raising her voice. “We don’t do well in groups? We attended an academy. We studied and trained, Realmwalked across multiple Worldshards, to climb the Years. To be Magi. And we are still Magi.”

“That’s different,” Logan said.

“How?” Mel asked.

Logan opened his mouth, then shut it thoughtfully. “We had classes. It was to learn. Not to form a group.”

“And yet we did,” Mel pressed. “We always do. Whenever you find two Magi on another Worldshard, they always find a way to work together. We bicker and fight, snipe and grouch, but that’s just what any big family does.” She stabbed her index finger onto the tabletop. “When the chips are down, the Magi circle the wagons and protect one another. Always. You could have turned your backs and let Thomas be taken. Or let Gwen and Heath die. We would have been wiped out if all you did was mind your own business. But you didn’t. You came to our aid, because that is what Magi do.”

Thomas gave Mel a subtle nod of respect.

There, it’s out now. Mel watched their faces, letting the words sink in. Some clearly were still against it, if only because contrarianism ran deep in Magi.

“The Magi here are forming an Order,” Charlie declared. “This isn’t another Realmwalking journey. There is no going back to Brookmoors. It’s apparent Mel will use this gem with or without us. Would you rather join, or be on the outside looking in, abandoning everything you once strived to be? Because ‘ew, gross, a group!’?”

“You’re the one holding it,” Almace pointed out. “Technically, you–”

“I’m no thief.” Charlie handed it back to Mel. “It doesn’t matter who wears the better hat at this moment. This is about our way of life being preserved.”

“Have you even checked what sort of Orders we could create?” Hal asked, cradling his chin on his laced fingers.

Mel shook her head. “I haven’t tried to use it yet. Mostly because it can’t be used in a Convocation. So we have until the next trial to figure it out. I, for one, don’t see a reason to wait. You’ve all no doubt been contacted by or heard about the Grand Orders. This is the same thing on a smaller scale. We can hold our own fate in our hands, but it’s worthless if we splinter.”

A few people started to mutter to each other. Mel heard a few snippets of conversation, some were surprised that Mel of all people was suggesting unity.

She couldn’t tell whether that was considered a good thing.

“You’re all my family,” Gwen said warmly. “Not just Mel.”

“Komachi!” the pobul added eagerly, looking up from eating a heap of chocolate pineapple. That was probably in agreement.

“Pyuu!” said Smudge excitedly, turning into a vibrant pink pineapple.

“Smudge agrees,” Shrubley said, patting his friend. “I’m in.”

“If Shrubley’s in, I’m in,” Cal, the skeletal Mage said quickly as if he was afraid people might forget he was there.

“Miranda?” Gwen prompted the vampyr with hope.

The vampyr looked up. “Hm? Oh. Yes, yes,” she said, shooing away Gwen’s concern. “We’re all one big happy family, aren’t we?”

Logan grunted. “What do the Fire Oppa and the Firesoul think?”

Fenris, now tucked in Jacob’s lap, peeked up over the table. “We’re in.”

Jacob chewed his lip. “I am…not fond of being in a Covenant,” he admitted. “That being said, being alone is a fool’s errand. True strength comes from banding together. That’s why Brookmoors and Stowhr were founded, were they not? Unity to the broken and scattered. The forgotten. We’re all here because the Magi that came before believed in something greater than themselves. It is in our blood.”

There were several women in attendance who watched Jacob with dreamy eyes.

Oh, come on! Mel thought to herself. Then she truly listened to Jacob and the fiery passion that smoldered in each word. Oh. All right, yeah, I get it.

In Logan and Shrubley, Jacob’s words sparked great conviction.

It seemed that the Archer and the shrub held the Pyre in high regard.

Mel discovered quite a few cliques that day just by how people reacted to each other. Who looked at whom, and what they said in response.

Charlie didn’t have the Magi in the palm of her hand as she might have feared. The Magi were almost entirely evenly split among four distinct leaders. Some, much to Mel’s surprise, looked to her. Others to Charlie. Jacob clearly held a great deal of sway, and surprisingly so did Shrubley.

More than anything, Sylvie seemed to be the wildcard that Mel had come to know and love back at Brookmoors. She and Komachi could sway people rather easily, but they weren’t focused enough to hold their attention for long.

She’s like a young me, Mel thought, and not for the first time.

In the end, they reached a consensus.

The Magi would form an Order.