Marnie is hunched over her desk, exploring a thick, heavy-spined book of yellowing pages with tired eyes. Three days have passed since the invasion, and the disciple still suffers from dark circles under her eyes, sunken cheeks, and a pale, almost grayish skin tone. These symptoms are residual effects of the ritual.
To her left, Marnie keeps a copper bowl filled with a mixture of medicinal herbs and chemicals, a vessel that wafts a potent sulfur aroma inside the compact room. She would like to open a window, but the maids would complain about the stench. The entire wing of the mages' dormitories is isolated; only Arrax's bedroom, located at the end of the hallway, is allowed to have its windows open. This exception causes no bother, as powerful magic prevents any sound or scent from escaping Arrax's room.
"The sun calmed its wrath and the world ceased to burn; the cores ignited their brilliance, recovering the life lost after two millennia of war, ages where the gods learned to weep and lament like mortals," Marnie recites the last line of the interlude, tracing the symbols on the paper with a finger. The language and phrasing the text uses is convoluted; reading it carelessly would lead to translation errors and misunderstandings. "The Demiurge closed its eyes and folded its wings. For the first time, the world was nearly perfect and prepared to achieve peace. But peace was an illusion, and the seven sages cried out to the heavens for answers that did not yet exist. Children attacked their fathers, kings their peoples; magic twisted nature, and with destruction postponed, life continued and grew battered. The original meaning, lost. Zaratras, Interlude."
Marnie sighs and rubs her temple. The book she is reading is a copy of the Commandment of the Seven Sages, an ancient compilation of manuscripts that Marnie assumes will help her better understand her professor's creation. Very little is written about dungeon cores beyond considering them a plague, something any cheap manual for novice adventurers will tell you. In the Commandment of the Seven Sages appears one of the few positive mentions of the cores, and even with such a mention, there is debate. Some scholars comment that the Commandment of the Seven Sages was originally a work of oral transmission, meant only for the ears of the most important erudites, and that the word "Core" actually refers to the hearts of noble men and profitable causes—only that the transition from spoken word to written symbols, and then from written symbols to an elaborate translation process centuries later, led to the confusion with dungeon cores.
"Wisdom isn't illuminating my path; it's only causing me deep mental pain, ugh," the girl mutters as she closes the tome and hides it under the bed.
The Commandment of the Seven Sages is a forbidden book, as there are some mentions in the text—like that of the Demiurge—that go against the general spirituality preached by the churches, which assert that nothing exists above the gods. If a devout believer of the dogmas discovered the book, Marnie would be in serious trouble. A sinister reminder for the mages was the total extermination driven by the inquisitors against the branch of cosmomagic, a mystical art eradicated from the world for being considered heretical and too dangerous, which now only exists in legends. And not even all myths hold testimonies of cosmomagic, because those legends speaking of star clusters and other worlds beyond impassable horizons were mostly erased.
Despite the taboo, Arrax always encourages his students to seek knowledge anywhere, even in the darkest tomes.
The girl takes a long sip from her bowl of medicines, shudders at the foul taste, and only the use of all her willpower keeps her from spitting the liquid out and staining the walls. Another glance at the desk, specifically at a thick hourglass, lets her know that six hours have already passed and she needs to prepare the mixture for her peers.
Marnie joined the ritual halfway through the process, which means she was the one who suffered the least from the consequences of that powerful and ancient magic. It's true that she isn't vomiting blood, and that is good, but it's also true that she is the one cleaning up the blood her classmates are shedding while they sleep and wake up submerged in the delirium of heavy fevers. The maids help her, but Marnie is the one who possesses the knowledge to prepare the medicine. It's not that complicated; she can use her basic alchemy set in her room to brew the potion, but since Arrax also drinks the substance, Marnie makes sure to study the mixture's instructions up to three times to avoid making a mistake.
Marnie does not want to be expelled and return to the streets to settle for a mediocre life. She aspires to become a powerful mage, influential enough to be chosen as the royal sorceress of some kingdom.
"The Kingdom of Platia would be nice," the girl mutters as she places a new copper bowl on the table holding her alchemy instruments.
The Kingdom of Platia is where Queen Gineber hails from. Stories tell that it is a beautiful place, with white towers and crystalline waters flowing through lapis lazuli canals. The kingdom is built on the banks of the River of the Three Gorges, just before the splits that give the waterway its name. It is also known as the kingdom of the merchant princes, where it is said that the wealth and luxuries they possess could be enough to hire the Mage King himself as a mercenary for a day.
"Though that would be ridiculous," Marnie says, shaking her head as she imagines renting the services of the supreme mage. While thinking about it, she glances at her ingredient shelf and is surprised to discover she is out of mint bunches.
Between going to the kitchen or down to the laboratory's storeroom, Marnie chooses the latter. She hasn't visited the lab since the incident, perhaps because deep down, experiencing the aftermath of the ritual left her suffering from an instinctive repulsion toward her workspace.
"I have to endure it anyway. When the professor recovers from his delirium, he'll want to know how things are down there," she says to give herself courage.
Marnie leaves the dormitory and heads toward the beginning of the hallway, crosses the entrance that connects to a tower, and from there descends a staircase that leads to the cells. She walks among the prisoners, and they avoid her gaze. Every so often, Arrax threatens to turn anyone who bothers his workers into a guinea pig, which helps maintain respect and coexistence.
"Hm?" Marnie was about to go straight to the storeroom to get ingredients, but her attention is drawn by a cage in a corner, open and empty. She heard the king agreed to let the imp roam free within the lab's confines, but it strikes her as odd not to see her anywhere.
When Marnie turns toward the core room to ask where the little devil went, she is astonished to see that no one is standing guard. A drop of sweat falls down the disciple's forehead. The order was supposedly to keep the door to the core room guarded at all times. Maybe the soldiers got bored and went in with the crystal?
Marnie, taking for granted that this hypothesis is true, and thinking that soldiers are too simple-minded, sighs, advances to the double doors, and opens them to ask the guards to please not disturb her master's creation.
But then...
"...!"
Marnie turns pale at what she sees, loses her balance, and falls flat on her ass on the floor. She crawls backward until her back hits a table. She gets up and breaks into a sprint, her eyes wide open in horror and her brain assuming the worst. Her desperate voice echoes.
"The Dungeon Core is out of control!"