Ziel wasn’t sure he could do as much. His experiments with the Rune Queen’s array were still just beginning, and doing this inside a time-warped pocket world was risky. He was afraid of rocking the boat, so to speak.
But instead of voicing his concerns, he activated the Grand Oath Array.
Profound silver runes appeared around him, Forged by his Divine Treasure and controlled according to the method he’d inherited from Shatterspine Castle.
Ziel moved the circle to surround the tank. “I can try to speed up time’s effect on the target. How do we tell if it works?”
Lindon Forged a scale quickly and carelessly. It was stable enough to remain a blue-white coin of blue madra, but not so stable that it would last long. He flipped it onto the ground, and Ziel included it in the targeting of the Oath Array.
[Wait!] Dross protested. [I’m not ready!] He tilted a pitcher almost completely upside-down, until the last trickles of amethyst liquid dripped out into the tank.
After one…two…three slow drips, Ziel was certain he was finished. But Dross still waited for a fourth drop before he spun away from the container. [There! Ready!]
Lindon gestured, and a lid flew up and screwed itself into place. Scripts flickered as they were sealed shut.
When that was in place, Ziel operated the Array. He concentrated on accelerating the tank’s time by just one day, though he knew his precise control was lacking.
The silver script spun faster and faster, until it was just a blur.
The tank didn’t change much to the outside eye, though he did feel as though the spiritual patterns inside were settling quickly. Only when Lindon’s scale started to dissolve did Ziel stop the Grand Oath Array, which slowed its spin until he pulled it away.
Lindon reached down and picked up the crumbling scale. “Two days, I’d guess.”
“It was supposed to be one,” Ziel said. He’d overshot. He should practice more.
“Better more time than less.” Lindon frowned into the tank, and Ziel wondered what he was thinking about. Maybe he was realizing how much potential the Grand Oath Array had if only Ziel could control it more precisely.
Dross drifted up to Lindon’s face. [You have thoughts. I taste them. Share them with me.]
“The pocket world held up well, so I just wondered…” Lindon glanced to Ziel. “Do you think you could use this on one of us?”
Ziel picked up the idea immediately. “Only if you want to stand inside the circle for a day. You wouldn’t be able to cycle aura.”
“But your body keeps working.”
“Yes.”
“So you’d process elixirs.”
Ziel considered the idea. He was pushing toward peak Archlord as fast as he dared, and they had plenty of elixirs and resources, but the spirit could only go so fast. Just like the body needed time to build muscle.
At peak Archlord, he’d be able to sense Icons more clearly. He might even be able to endure looking at the Abidan symbols for longer. Could he really force open the secrets of the universe so easily?
“Worth a shot,” he said. Without further delay, he spread the silver circles around himself.
Then he accelerated time again, just as he’d done for the tank. But this time, from his perspective, the runes didn’t seem to change their speed. It was the outside world that slowed down.
Lindon and Dross were virtually frozen, though Ziel felt normal. There was no instability in the Array or in the pocket world around him.
Nothing to do now but wait.
Cycling his madra internally worked, but he couldn’t touch any aura outside the circle. He couldn’t open his void key—it resisted him, and he didn’t want to force it. Best not to mess with time and space too much.
This would certainly work for processing elixirs. He could even read dream tablets or meditate on the Abidan symbols.
But there had to be some limitations. Otherwise, Monarchs wouldn’t need to spend so many resources to create time-warped pocket dimensions.
He gave it another few minutes and then slowed the operation of the Array, syncing it to time outside once again. “It works,” he said.
Lindon’s eyes lit up. “I’d like to try, if you don’t mind.”
Ziel shrugged. Why not?
The instant the silver runes appeared around Lindon, the entire pocket world screamed in protest.
Ziel cut off the Grand Oath Array immediately, but the substance of space had shivered. The ground pitched to one side, and Dross screamed in Ziel’s mind.
Yerin appeared before the shaking settled down, leaving the wall of Forged earth madra broken in her wake. Her sword was out, and she scanned the room for the cause of the disruption.
Lindon lifted his left hand. “Apologies for the disturbance. We won’t try that again.”
Yerin let out a breath and slammed her sword back into its sheath. “You shaved off half my lifeline! Thought we were all about to crumble to dust!”
Lindon gathered her up in his arms and continued his apology, so Ziel ignored them and returned to the problem at hand. Dross drifted up, one tendril on his chin as though deep in thought.
“Lindon’s too much for the Array,” Ziel said.
[He’s too much for anyone. But yes, I wouldn’t try it on him again while we’re stuck in here.]
“Then why did it work for me?”
[I’m going to guess—and it is a guess, so don’t tear me to pieces and scatter me to the winds if it’s not correct. I think you just need practice. Using it on yourself is easy, using it on someone else is hard, at least without shaking this tiny world to pieces. Using it on Lindon is very hard. Focus on making the power your own. Right now, you’re trying to walk with someone else’s legs.]
Dross manifested disproportionately large human legs and mimed walking to support the analogy, which was disgusting enough to make Ziel look away.
“But it will keep working for me?”
Dross spread his tendrils in a shrug. [Worked once, didn’t it? Why not try it another time or twelve?]
Lindon joined them a minute later. He had heard their exchange—or Dross had filled him in mentally—but Ziel had some thoughts of his own.
“Get me all the elixirs I could process in a year,” Ziel said.
“A year?” Lindon asked. “If you’re stuck in the Array for a year, you’ll go insane.”
Ziel shrugged. “Not like I have to do it all at once. If I need to, I’ll cancel the technique.”
Not that he intended to. He’d heard of Monarchs cycling for years at a time, and if he had to do that to make the most of their time, he would.
Lindon traded glances with Dross. Ziel didn’t sense anything, but he got the impression that they were having an entire conversation in a second.
“Two conditions,” Lindon said. “First, we’ll ease into it. Start with a few days, then a week, then a month. We want to be sure you can handle it, and that we don’t destabilize the world’s time.”
The more experiments they performed, the more likely that was, but Ziel nodded anyway. If it started looking dangerous, they could always abort.
“Second, let us put you to sleep.”
Ziel scratched the base of his horns. “You’re worried about me cracking under the pressure?”
[That’s not the way we would put it! But yes, yeah, absolutely. That’s exactly what we’re worried about.]
Lindon met Ziel’s eyes, and his tone was polite as ever. “I’m afraid you might stick it out for the entire duration and sustain mental exhaustion that even you aren’t aware of.”
“I could always use the Array however I want when you aren’t around to supervise me,” Ziel pointed out.
“Don’t,” Lindon said.
Ziel hesitated for a moment before nodding.
Lindon opened a void key and began another silent conversation with Dross. It looked like they were trying to decide which elixirs to begin with. Or perhaps rationing them.
For one stupid moment, Ziel considered that Lindon might not have a whole year’s worth of elixirs for him.