Fallen Mage Regressor

Mal stood in front of the door. Professor Vigil's fram on the other side frame filled up the entrance, his gold sashes on his shoulder delineating the clear tension in his muscles.

Mal tilted his head. "Professor? Why are you at our door?"

Rolam looked down at a textbook from his position at the table. His eyes flickered between the textbook, to Mal, then back at the textbook. It was the most transparent attempt at eavesdropping Mal had ever seen in his entire life.

Vigil shut his eyes and clenched them tight like he was trying to drive out the pain through sheer pressure.

"Sorry." He opened his eyes again. "I've been writing out a teleportation circle for a big event."

"The Exodi Triumph?"

Vigil pointedly stared behind Mal's shoulder at their listener.

Mal got the message. "Right, let's go."

To Mal's surprise, Vigil didn't take him to the staff lounge, or to anywhere else on the campus. No, they hopped on one of the stone platforms heading down to the base of the city.

"What are we doing?" Mal said.

"I'll explain when we get there."

Mal remained relaxed on the outside, but on the inside, he was getting more and more suspicious. Had Nima come back for round two, and this was yet another illusion? He sniffed the air, but could detect no smell of glass.

They continued walking and then Vigil suddenly spoke. "We're getting close."

Mal looked around for what the destination could be. The only place that stuck out was a large church occupying a block all to itself. It was designed in the typical Eternian church fashion, high, spiked, pointed pillars at the top, a bell tower somewhere in the middle. Multiple stained glass windows, and two doors at the front in an archway.

Mal's blood pumped with adrenaline.

Wait a sec. Wait a sec, he thought. Did they find out about Cornelias?

And then a wave of realization hit him.

Of course they realized Cornelias! You can't kill a Theologue without somebody noticing, and they somehow managed to trace it back to me.

Mal's breath quickened. He glanced around as subtly as he could, eyeing an opportunity for escape. Every time he stepped down, his foot tensed as if he was about to run.

And then Vigil's neck snapped over toward Mal's.

He didn't do anything. He didn't even speak. He didn't stop walking. There was only his gaze, but Mal knew that he would have to fight to get away if it came down to that.

They probably don't know the truth, Mal thought. Even if they do, there's no way they have any evidence. For all I know, they're just bringing me in for questioning. They want to get to the bottom of things. I just have to relax and play it cool, and I should be able to deflect suspicion off of me.

They walked to the church doors and they swung open on their own. Waiting between the pews, his head buried in some book, was a man in brown monk's clothes. His robes reached down to his ankles, rope tied around his waist.

He looked up and over at Mal and Vigil.

"Ah, you're just in time," he said. "We have much to discuss."

The doors shut behind Mal and the noise from the streets outside disappeared, leaving only the silence of the cathedral.

The man in brown monk robes looked over at Vigil with a questioning look. "Is this the one?"

Vigil nodded. "He is. The school thinks he has the best shot at pulling off our plan, despite his less than impressive leaderboard rankings."

The monk walked over to Mal and bowed slowly, hands folded in his sleeves. He came back up to his full height, his warm brown eyes fixed on Mal.

"Greetings, young one," he said. "My name is Deacon Thoma, a member of the church."

Mal bowed back in the way that his old monk friend had taught him.

The monk friend that was standing in front of him right now.

Of course you would get involved, Thoma, Mal thought. Something like this is right up your lane, isn't it?

Even now, Mal didn't know very much about the structure of the church. Whether Thoma was actually a deacon—which was, according to nomenclature, a relatively low rank—or that was simply a convenient disguise was something that had never been disclosed to Mal.

Nonetheless, Mal had some faint acquaintance with the man. They'd worked together for a brief time against the cult before the church had deemed Mal too dangerous to be an ally.

He came back up from his bow. "It's a pleasure, Deacon Thoma. My name is Malfrasius Patoal, though I'm commonly referred to as Mal."

Thoma chuckled, his grey hairs bobbing with the motion. "Interesting. May I refer to you that way?"

"I would be honored."

Deacon Thoma's eyes flashed for just a second. Mal wouldn't have spotted it had he not worked with the man for several months.

Deacon Thoma wasn't a combatant, much like Cornelias. He wasn't a grand strategist, either.

No, he was a spymaster, the sort that specialized in the most valuable intelligence around.

People.

He was also a nice guy from what Mal could tell, and part of the reason why Mal's opinion of the church had increased. That was the secret to the genial old man act. It wasn't an act. Deacon Thoma was just genuinely a pleasant person to be around.

"While I'm honored to meet with a servant of the church, I do wish to know why I've been brought here," Mal said.

Thoma chuckled. "This one was raised right, Vigil," he said, then smiled and looked back at Mal. "Tell me, Mal, were you raised in an religious order for a few months? Perhaps you were a part of one of the church schools when you were younger?"

Mal shook his head. "No, but I had a friend who taught me the correct customs."

"You had a good friend, then."

The room fell silent. Vigil coughed into his hand. "Deacon, we're here for a reason, not to make conversation."

Deacon Thoma nodded. "Of course. I simply thought to lighten the mood a bit."

He faced away from Mal and looked off toward the stained glass window.

"Tell me, Mal, how much do you know of the cult? I understand you had an encounter with them not long ago."

"I know as much as any student does. They're the enemies of all mankind, an ancient organization dedicated to the destruction of the world."

Thoma looked back at him, eyebrows raised. "You speak as if they're a credible threat."

"I did almost get stabbed by one of them just like a month ago."

Thoma hummed and nodded. "Yes, that makes sense. It's just that most your age and in your position tend to think of the cult as nothing more than an urban legend."

"It definitely wasn't an urban legend that broke my maid's arm."

"Indeed." He bowed for a second time toward Mal. "I must apologize to you for those events. I was the one who was in charge of tracking down and investigating the cultist activity here in Exodi, and I failed. Not only that, but I allowed one of our own to become involved in cultist activities, and potentially even allowed the theft of an important artifact."

Oh, so they know about the cup. Damn.

Mal kept a perfectly straight face. "Who and what artifact?"

As far as Mal was aware, Thoma should've had no reason to suspect Cornelias was involved in the attack on Mal. Mal had no relation to Cornelias. Mal had met Cornelias one time in a guard station, and that was the extent of their relationship.

"A high ranking member of the church." Deacon Thoma shut his eyes. "Unfortunately, he's disappeared. We suspect that he fled the city and is now in hiding, most likely doing other horrendous acts for the cult.

"As for the artifact… we believe he took it with him. Truly, these are dark times."

Mal knew this was complete bunk, but he wasn't about to correct the man. He allowed himself an imaginary sigh of relief and felt his blood pressure drop.

"So you still haven't gotten around to what I'm here for," Mal said.

Deacon Thoma pursed his lips.

"I will come out and say it, then," he said. "The cult is planning to attack during the final round of the Exodi Triumph. We want you to help us stop them."

Mal's eyes widened. That hadn't been in the original timeline. He definitely would have remembered something like that.

"How did you learn this?" Mal said, genuine surprise lacing his tone.

"We have multiple spies embedded in the cult. Low level, of course. It's impossible to get our people into the higher ranks." He shook his head. "Even so, the rumors have trickled down and it's abundantly clear that they're planning to attack."

"How exactly would I be able to help?"

"We suspect that they're going to attack the winner of the tournament," Thoma said. "They'll also be targeting hopefuls in an attempt to turn some of the particularly strong ones. We need a peer to work amongst the other young wizards and deliver information to us."

"And?" Mal said.

"If they attack, we want to make sure that the person they attack is someone who can handle it."

Ah, I'm bait.Should I be offended at the role, or flattered by the attention?

"Vigil has told me much of your exploits. You eliminated a demon, albeit a low ranking one, and you fought off a member of the cult."

"Wouldn't someone like Savaly be a better choice, then? Even if I technically have more accomplishments, her power far outstrips mine."

Vigil scoffed from behind Mal. "Yeah, use the Princess of Chama as a blood sacrifice to lure out the cult. That would play well with the king."

Mal's mouth made a little O-shape. "Yeah, that makes sense."

"We did consider other candidates," Deacon Thoma said. "But your name was the only one that passed all of our qualifications. If both your friends and your country are in need of your aid, Mal, will you render them assistance?"

Mal thought about it for a bit.

Obviously he wanted in on this. The chance to build inroads with the church was a good one, their assistance could be invaluable later down the line. Not to mention the Academy and maybe even the king himself. Getting that kind of influence was worth its weight in gold. Even besides that…

This is my fault.

Somehow, someway, he'd caused this, because this wasn't in the original timeline. Therefore, he had a duty to clean things up.

Unless, of course, this is a false alarm, in which case I still get free loot.

The first problem was practicality. Mal was ahead of the vast majority of his peers, but Savaly was an unknown. He might have a shot based off of what he'd seen of her, but he had no idea if that was her true capabilities. He knew that in the original timeline, she'd grown to be the magical equivalent of—well, there really were no words in the common tongue to describe how powerful she'd become. Just behind the heroine in terms of danger was where he'd rank her. And in terms of raw power, Savaly far outstripped the heroine. The only reason the heroine had the edge was because of destiny itself and Eternus backing her up in every single fight.

"I would have to win this, right?" he said to confirm.

"You would," Deacon Thoma said. "And we would render you assistance, of course—nothing illegal, but all of the resources at our disposal would be ready for you."

I'd need to beat Savaly? Ha! A worthy challenge, even at her young age.

Mal could already imagine just how he could abuse this. Ask for extra potion ingredients. Ask for extremely powerful potions. Get access to the best magical tutors and books.

"If I help you," Mal said slowly, the plan forming itself in real time. "I would want a reward."

Deacon Thoma nodded. "We've organized a lump sum reward of—"

"Not the money," Mal waved him off. "The archives."

Deacon Thoma stilled.

"This is a great request," he said. "Are you requesting access to the entirety of the archives, including the personal library of Zoli—?"

"Of course not," Mal said. "I know that my aid isn't worth that much. I'm talking about the generally restricted stuff. The kind of stuff that a Theologue would have access to."

Deacon Thoma thought about it, eyes shifting to the floor, then he slowly nodded.

"I'll have to confer with my superiors," he said. "But your odds are good."

Mal turned away from Deacon Thoma and looked at Vigil.

"And I want something from you guys, too."

"The Academy?" Vigil shrugged. "Depends on the request. We were also just planning to give you a cash reward—"

"I want you to look the other way."

Vigil's eyes sharpened. "...On what, exactly?"

"I'm not killing anybody or getting myself involved in dark magic." Mal waved away the concerns with his hands. "Nothing that would violate your conscience that much. Rather, I plan to start distributing goods in some of the darker corners of town. If I'm not getting cash from you gentlemen, I'll need to acquire it in other ways. And it would benefit me if the Academy protects me from legal repercussions."

Vigil's face softened when Mal explained, though he was still noticeably on edge.

"That's probably doable. Of course, if you try to assassinate someone, we won't protect you and will probably try to put you away. But if you just want to make a little extra money on the side, I don't see why the Academy wouldn't look the other way."

Deacon Thoma chuckled. "Speaking of such things in front of a clergyman? Rather bold of you."

Mal shrugged. "I get the feeling that you're not the type of person to get hung up on that sort of thing."

"I've been read by a man less than a third my age," Thoma said. "Should I be embarrassed or excited? Perhaps I ought to see if the church has room for one of your intelligence."

That wasn't such a bad deal. Thoma was being rather generous. Although the range of jobs in the church was wide, they all came with a number of benefits that made even the lower ranking ones a very good deal. An offer before he'd even graduated the Academy was exceptionally rare.

"Unfortunately, I have to decline," Mal said. "Though I appreciate the offer."

Thoma's eyes widened by a fraction before they settled back into his genial old man look.

"Well, you young people are very flighty. Perhaps you'll change your mind in a few years."

Mal nodded. "Is that all?"

"Yes, that's all," Vigil said. "We'll explain things further as we get closer to the first event. We likely won't be able to get you anything amazing for this first event—it's too soon. But we'll work to help you for the second and third. For now, stay on guard."

"I will, Professor Vigil."

Mal waited in his room. He counted the number of wet spots in the roof. Surely the school would be transferring his circle out of this Eternus-forsaken ward soon?

A tap at the window sill.

A figure hopped through the opening and perfectly landed without touching any of Mal's pots or plants. The figure's orange scarf trailed behind her from the motion and then settled down in a straight line.

She took off the cloak, revealing hair the same color as the scarf and ruby red eyes.

"So, boss, I was pretty surprised when you finally called me up," she said. "I'm getting paid a pretty penny and I haven't done anything. Are we about to change that?"

"We are."

Mal leaned in toward her.

"Let's go sell drugs and take over a small gang."

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