Chapter 33 - Invisible

  Given that the Grifantes were the remaining family of the greatest formationist in history, the elevator they had made was unbearably slow. Faster than taking the stairs, but that much was a requirement when the building was the height of a big mountain.

  At least the view will be interesting.

  He extended his mana outward carefully, using it to keep track of the number of floors they passed. The magical density shifted subtly at each level—different wards, different purposes, different concentrations of power.

  But he stopped caring after the first hundred floors.

  A hundred. And we still aren't halfway there.

  The buttons one would usually see in an elevator were replaced by a number pad—no floor listings, no labels, just digits waiting for input. The only indicator of how far they'd gotten was a needle above the door moving like a fuel gauge. At about the same speed as one, it felt like.

  The receptionist remained silent for the entire trip, facing the doors without moving a muscle.

  Felicia stood next to Daniel, still holding his arm. Her grip hadn't loosened since they'd entered. Despite her composed expression, he could feel the slight tremor in her fingers that betrayed her nervousness.

  "It really is tall," she said quietly, but it was perfectly clear in the silent elevator.

  Daniel nodded and let out a sigh. “You mean slow. And I agree. They could easily improve it by removing the need to be able to stop at every floor, but it seems they haven’t figured out how.”

  “...How would you do that?”

  It was a long and complicated answer, but it seemed like she was asking questions to help with her nerves.

  "With formations that can redirect mana to separate formations based on input. Think of it like a…"

  He paused, searching for a metaphor she could grasp.

  "Like a fountain, maybe? Water falls from the top into a cup below, and depending on how it's adjusted, it will either flow to the fast cup or the slow cup below that again."

  Not my best analogy, but close enough.

  Her face seemed to indicate she understood part of his explanation, but her brows were furrowed in thought, working through the logic.

  "I'll teach you about it later."

  "No, I think I understand it. But that seems simple compared to how the index works?"

  She's sharper than I give her credit for sometimes.

  "It is, but you're comparing the magnum opus of history's greatest formationist to an elevator."

  “I thought you said you—” She stopped herself, remembering they weren’t alone. “I mean, he was not the greatest.”

  Nice save.

  "He was just being humble. I think we're arriving."

  Daniel felt the subtle shift in momentum that indicated they were approaching their destination. The needle above the door settled into position, and with a soft chime, the doors opened.

  They revealed a hallway, grand in a way that made the entrance hall look modest by comparison. Everything was covered in black lacquer and gold—not gaudy, but deliberately opulent, the kind of wealth that didn't need to shout to be heard.

  A red carpet stretched through it, starting from the elevator and ending in an open door at the far end, thick enough that their footsteps would be muffled.

  Ah, I always loved this style.

  Elegant and firm, giving a sense of old and deeply rooted authority. The kind of decor that said, "we have been here for generations and will be here for generations more."

  "Please follow me," the receptionist said, turning to them with another bow—more respectful now that they'd arrived at the family's private levels.

  The duo followed after him, walking past a series of paintings lining the walls. They varied widely in subject matter, but they were all realistic depictions of events Daniel assumed were historically significant.

  And, of course, there was a giant one with the party of heroes, right before they valiantly defeated the corrupted spirit.

  Of course there is.

  Daniel paused for a moment to study it, feeling something complicated twist in his chest. None of the depictions were accurate, save for that of Elania. She was rendered perfectly—every detail of her face, her posture, the way she held her sword. Someone who knew her had painted that, or at least worked from very good descriptions.

  He glanced over the other paintings once more as they continued walking, and some had hints of a white-haired woman with long ears standing somewhere in the background. Never obvious—she was always partially hidden, placed in shadows or at the edges. More like a nod to anyone who knew to look for her.

  …Let’s hope she taught them to be good and honorable people.

  They eventually arrived at the open door at the end of the hallway. The room beyond was a circular dome in black, with a white tree hanging from the roof. Its roots were encased in dirt which seemed to be held up by some barrier, and the branches with sparse golden leaves were pointing down. It was bathed in light coming from a glass pane on the floor below.

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  The same beam we saw in the entrance hall? Impressive.

  It made for stunning decoration, he had to admit. The tree's white bark gleamed in the artificial sunlight, scattering it in soft patterns across the dark walls.

  "Please wait here," the receptionist said, gesturing out into the room with a slight bow. "Sir Lucian will be with you shortly." Then he turned and left the same way he had arrived.

  They were alone in the dome-like room, which split off into hallways in two directions and had another door on the opposite side of the entrance.

  This seems more like a living space. I assume we're in the actual home of the Grifantes now. Or at least one of their families.

  The tower probably housed multiple branches, each with their own floors, their own territories. A vertical city of relatives, all connected by blood and politics.

  “What kind of tree is that?” Felicia asked, pointing up at it.

  Probably some rare mutation Elania really likes. But I’ve never seen it.

  “I’m not sure, honestly. I assume the upside-down aspect is unnatural, and that they’ve created an artificial source of sunlight from below to make it grow against its nature. So any old white tree, I guess?”

  “Not of the ones from Patropil, then? I thought maybe they used those trees to keep the building standing.”

  “Oh, that could be how they do it. But no, those are dark brown in color.”

  “It’s actually a homegrown variant of the white trees of Meridiem.”

  A deep voice interrupted the discussion as a man stepped out from the hallway to the right of them. A man who looked like he duelled with death every day, and won with ease.

  A dozen scars on his face alone, two swords on his hips, and a wild expression that was just barely starting to tip over into the wisdom of old age.

  Daniel found himself reassessing his assumptions about the Grifantes family. This man, at least, was not some coddled noble.

  Felicia let go of Daniel’s arm and bowed in the man’s direction. “Greetings. I am Felicia Harrowbloom, as you might already know. Are you my uncle?”

  The man studied her from top to bottom. Daniel watched his expression shift through several emotions before settling on something that might have been concern.

  “That I am. You look a lot like your mother, Felicia.”

  “Thank you, Uncle.”

  “No—well, your mother was beautiful, but that's not what I meant. You look too fragile. Like a strong wind might break you.”

  Daniel had to suppress the urge to laugh. Of course the warrior uncle's first concern was her physical condition.

  "...Compared to you, Uncle, I think most people do."

  “Heh, that is true. People have forgotten the value of a strong body and instead look to master fancy light magic. A strong body is a strong mind!”

  Fancy light magic? Is he talking about my magic?

  Daniel felt something between amusement and offense bubbling up in his chest. This was Artorias's descendant, dismissing the very techniques that had made the family name legendary.

  Elania. This is definitely Elania's work.

  He might be imagining it, but it felt like he could see her influence everywhere around.

  Felicia didn’t seem to know how to respond to her uncle’s words. “...I’ll try to strengthen my body in the future, Uncle.”

  “Good! Eat meat, that helps the muscles grow. Would you like to sit down somewhere? We have plenty of space.”

  At least he's hospitable.

  "That would be nice. We just arrived in the city today, and it's been busy."

  "Right, come along, then," Lucian said, turning and waving them along after him with casual authority. "Is there anything in particular that brought you to the city of magic? Your sister is at the academy, right?"

  “Well, to be honest, I am just along for the ride. My teacher is the one who has business here. But I felt I had to visit, once I had the opportunity.”

  Daniel appreciated her deflection—putting the focus on him rather than making this about her own desires or needs. It gave her an out if things got uncomfortable.

  Lucian brought them into a large lounge room, branching off from the hallway. It was just as opulent as the rest of the floor, but with an added sense of softness to it. Warmer lights, and several soft seats to sit on.

  "Ahh, teachers… They can be quite demanding. Please, sit down over there."

  He pointed to a salon arrangement of couches at the side of the room, then walked over to some kind of liquid dispenser built into the wall—magical, obviously, but functional rather than ornate.

  "Would you like some tea?"

  "Oh, yes, thank you." Felicia sat down on the couch, leaving room for Daniel by her side. But he chose to stand behind the couch instead, looking ready to assist her.

  "My pleasure. And I'm glad you decided to visit. We never had the chance to meet you when we… came up north. Sorry about that."

  "I don't think I would have cared if you did, Uncle. It was a very difficult time for me."

  Her voice had grown vulnerable. Losing her mother and her sight at only seven years old would leave more trauma than most could understand.

  Daniel felt her pain in his chest. And so did Lucian, by the looks of it.

  “Of course, I understand. It was… it was hard for me as well.”

  His words seemed genuine, filled with emotion that was hard to fake. And he didn't seem the type who could act well.

  But Daniel noted that he included only himself in that sentence. It was hard for me. Not ‘for us,’ or ‘for the family.’

  One of the few who cared for her? Felicia's mother was sent away against her will, as far as I know. Perhaps her brother also fought that decision?

  Lucian brought two cups of steaming tea from the magical dispenser, setting them both on the table—one for Felicia, and one for himself.

  Daniel remained standing nearby, and Lucian hadn't so much as glanced at him since entering. Not even when Felicia mentioned her teacher. Not a flicker of acknowledgment.

  Does he assume I'm her helper? Taking care of things the blind girl can't do on her own?

  The thought amused him, but it was also perfectly logical from an outside perspective. A young blind noblewoman traveling with an unknown companion—of course he'd be staff of some kind. A guide, perhaps, or a servant.

  "You say you're here with your teacher,” Lucian said while taking a seat. “What does he teach?"

  Felicia smiled as she lifted the cup to her lips, taking a small sip before answering. "Fancy light magic, I'm afraid. But he's an incredible teacher, so I don't mind following along."

  Daniel had to work to keep the smirk off his face.

  “Ah, someone I might know?”

  "It's very possible. But he's mostly a stranger to these lands at this point."

  True enough. A thousand years makes you a stranger everywhere.

  "I see…"

  Lucian took a long drink from his own cup, studying Felicia over the rim.

  "I heard you didn't learn much magic due to your condition, but it's good that you're managing! Even the fancy light magic is better than nothing. As a Grifantes, I can't look down on it too much."

  I’m starting to feel like my own family is hating on my techniques here. Did Elania convert them all to muscleheads? Or is this guy a special case?

  “Lucian!” an aged voice suddenly yelled from the hallway, filled with anger and authority. “Are you welcoming the Harrowbloom girl?"

  Lucian shot up from his spot on the couch and bowed toward the entrance before anyone could be seen. A cane thumped heavily on their way to the room, accompanied by a set of firm footsteps.

  “Erodi—” Lucian caught himself, quickly changing his way of addressing the man. “Father, I thought you were busy today!”

  “I was, but then you went and welcomed snakes into our home!”

  Ahh, god damn it.