Chapter 1319 (1/2)
Naffur watched with a rather amused expression as the exhausted group of people that had gathered around the first of Randidly’s trials finally released a sigh of triumph; they had managed to melt the fist of ice on the pillar. Water dribbled down the side of the stone edifice that had flummoxed them for quite a bit of time, making for a poor celebration of their triumph.
After almost a half-hour of Alana, Richter, Mark Rowel, Hank Howard, and Wivanya managed to overcome the interference of the ambient Nether field and disperse the image of frigid chill that Randidly had left. Naffur had covertly watched the entire process, slightly surprised by how quickly they adapted to the challenge.
The success earned some notice from the steadily swelling group below on the glowstone tiles, causing most of the conversation to slow somewhat for several seconds. But the anticlimatic sight of the group rubbing their temples convinced most everyone else turned away to continue with their conversations. This was a rare chance to interact with basically everyone of import on Earth, after all.
And the conversations that weren’t political in nature turned into surprisingly interesting diversions as the different methods of dealing with the System from the various Zones were brought into contact with one another.
Near to Naffur’s position on the floor, Isabella Cortez was engaged with a rather heated discussion with Obyrn Myyr, making it difficult to hear any of the other conversations around them.
Obyrn shrugged his huge shoulders. “The weak die. It is the nature of things. More… supporting methods exist, but is not the ultimate goal the survival of the species, not the individual? Your methods waste time and support that could be spent fostering images with much greater potential. Why not allow nature to run its course and select the winners for more resource-intensive training?”
“It is impossible to judge the value of individuals so early in their lives, even with the System. Especially with the System.” Isabella leaned forward and scowled. She flexed the fingers of her hand for emphasis, fully one fourth the size of the ogre in front of her. “I’m not even sure if potential is what is displayed early on in people’s lives; starting strength does not determine future strength. We would need to identify likely indicators, and even then-”
Obyrn was almost puzzled as he looked down at Isabella. “What better test of potential that the willpower and mental determination to succeed early on? Those who give up are demonstrating their own weak will.”
When a waiter walked past with a tray, Naffur grabbed two flutes of champagne. Then he shifted his position slightly, moving along the periphery of the glowstone tiled area so that he could hear the discussion between the group that was so fresh from their triumph. The first success meant that more troubles would be coming for that group. Tatiana crossed the glowstone tiles at a stately pace, easily holding her own against the light of surrounding images as she did so.
When did everything become such a show, Naffur thought sadly to himself. Not that he flinched from it. With a little bit of concentration, he sent pulses of images outward from his position that dimmed the light of images surrounding him.
Tonight of all nights, Kharon and the Order Ducis needed to appear near invincible. As the respective leaders of those factions, Tatiana and Naffur had a responsibility to cast a long shadow.
Naffur could practically see ill-omened raven’s wings beating at Tatiana’s back as she glided forward. The group noticed Tatiana now and straightened, a certain amount of pride clear in their expressions.
After being thoroughly trained at a certifiably sadistic pace for the last year, Naffur felt a great deal of schadenfreude to watch others cope with the standards of the Order Ducis. Especially this moment, when they were informed that their work had only just begun.
“Wonderful job,” Tatiana said in such a light tone that the phrase didn’t sound like a compliment at all. Theodora Greyman’s eyes narrowed, but otherwise no one else really reacted. It was clear that they were all still very drained from their earlier toil. “You’ve certainly moved quickly. But, I have to say that the first trial isn’t yet finished. You are only halfway through. Sorry for the delayed explanation.”
Alana snorted. The cluster of dragons around them bobbed there heads in unison, as though they were thinking of something. The lines at the corner of Theodora Greyman’s mouth became canyons as rivers of emotion ran their course through her.
Still as breezy as a summer day, Tatiana continued to speak. “But you should be familiar with the goal of the task. It is the exact opposite of what you just did; you will need to use your images to recondense the ice on the pillar for me to try and melt. Considering the difference in preparation between yourself and Randidly, all you need to do is to create a frozen image that will stop me from melting it for one minute.”
“None of us deal in images relating to ice,” Theodora Greyman hissed through her teeth. Her hands were tucked into her armpits.
Tatiana eyes flicked lightly to Wivanya, but then she focused on Theodora and smiled indulgently. “And neither does Randidly Ghosthound, not truly. But let me ask you this: is it your images that are powerful or does the power lay in the Willpower that wields them? The rules about not touching the water and the pillar remain the same. Please feel free to ask me any questions… and come get me when you are ready for my participation in the test.”
As Tatiana walked off, the group lapsed into a weary silence for a few seconds as they considered the task in front of them. Naffur took a sip from one of his flutes of champagne. Finally, Mark Rowell threw his hands up into the air. “This is impossible, even with the help of the dragons. We are going to need to base the image and maintain it through that same interference that took us twenty minutes to overcome. And I bet its much harder to make something while under that suppression than it is to destroy something.”
As Hank patted Wivanya’s back affectionately and the dragon conveyed strong distaste through its reptilian features, Alana Donal hummed softly to herself. “It’s a matter of self-propagation of the image. The image’s Vitality, basically. That was why it resisted so strongly once we forcefully suppressed the Nether interference. It wasn’t enough just to convince the image that it wasn’t what it thought it was; that was impossible. We had to forcibly eradicate every bit of the image of cold. Otherwise, it would just have kept being cold.”
“A hard Skill ta learn quickly,” Hank looked at the frost forming on the hand he used to pat Wivanya and sighed.
“A good point about images versus self, however,” Alana admitted. Then she shook her head. “Images are ultimately just a habitual expression of our will. We should not forget that. We can exercise our will in different ways… and that will likely strengthen our images in turn.”