The hut, and it could only be a hut looking like that, loomed in front of him. Loomed because it was seven stories tall, which somehow didn't detract from the hut-like qualities it possessed, and Marcus glanced at Vess.
Who, quite frankly, looked like a guard. A faceless, sexless blob of armor and weaponry. She wasn't the focus here, she'd said. Anything she learned could be told to him later. Whoever was inside had to believe, utterly, that Marcus was the one in charge.
Vess also seemed to enjoy the act of pretending to be something she wasn't, which was very succubus-like of her. Marcus didn't mind. She was on his side, no matter that she was, by definition, a demon. He was fine with her entertaining herself.
"How long are you going to stand there, boy?" Marcus didn't flinch at the booming voice, having felt the amplification magic rise a moment before it did, but it was loud. "Come inside or sod off."
Marcus moved towards the door, resisting the urge to sigh. His armor gleamed—Vess had managed to get it to a state of impressive but practical—and an artificially worn matrix had been added to the breastplate. One that did absolutely nothing.
According to her it made him look like war-hardened nobility. Those born into wealth with talent and skill, combining all three for devastating results. Marcus called it lying with the truth, but Vess had insisted it would work.
He grasped the handle as he arrived at the door, feeling out the matrix embedded in the wood. A fairly simple one, meant to alarm its maker should it be disturbed. It didn't activate as he opened the door, finding a perfectly normal, if magically enhanced, hut spread out before him.
It had windows, a fireplace, table and chairs. Another chair with a much higher back and plenty of padding, a small kitchen, herbs hanging from the ceiling to dry. Nothing he hadn't seen before.
A stairway led up to the second story, which was unusual for a hut, but there was nothing inherently wrong about it. Except for the fact it was about twice the size of the exterior, of course, and he didn't know many who could reliably work with spatial magic.
It was an exact discipline, only made more so by the dangers failure brought. He'd learned it himself after acquiring a book at great expense, something which the King hadn't been happy about, and for some random witch in the woods to have achieved such mastery in the discipline seemed unlikely.
But unlikely things could happen , and that was exactly what he was looking for now. The unusually skilled.
"What do you want, boy?" Marcus looked, finding what he could only call a grandmother descending the stairs. Wrinkled, stooped, short and frail. Her eyes, though, looked clear and focused. "It's not often that nobility comes to visit, least of all without a few mages to back them up."
Marcus answered by enveloping the weave of matrices along her house in his magic, interwoven as it was in a beautiful display of unity. Dozens of spells working together for everything from climate control to defence, centered around the spatial seals turning her fairly modest—if tall—hut into a large townhouse.
He would be impressed, he really would be, if it wasn't for what he'd seen in the School of Life. If he hadn't spent uncountable hours staring at a language of matrices, something which made the witches' hut seem so utterly mundane in comparison.
It also meant he deciphered her entire web of spells in but a moment, finding no less than four weaknesses. One of which allowed him to detach the defences from the feedback loops which powered them, essentially killing it whole. He pointed it out by pulsing his magic alongside them, raising an eyebrow at her.
The witch's eyes widened, just slightly, and Marcus bowed his head. "Apologies for the disruption, Gretched. My name is Marcus Sepsimus Lannoy, and I have come with an offer."
"I-I see," Gretched replied, only hesitating slightly. "Welcome, Crown Prince. The rumor of your magical talent has not been exaggerated. Who is your friend?"
"A guard. No need to worry about them, but a Prince can't travel without at least some protection. Please, sit. This is your home and I am but a humble guest."
Gretched descended further down the stairs, slowly guiding her old body into one of the chairs. Marcus judged the difficulty she displayed to be exaggerated, but if she wanted to pretend who was he to complain?
"The Crown Prince comes here, to a hut I ensured was never put on any map, demonstrates the ability to unravel my work in seconds and brings a succubus to boot. I would make a comment about the impropriety of youth if you hadn't come dressed for war."
Of course she could tell. It wasn't that hard, not with the proper senses, but his contract with Vess was subtle. Well-forged. Not impossible to feel, but certainly not easy. "I am here with a proposition. One that could benefit you as much as it would benefit me."
"What could an old soul like myself possibly gain that I do not already possess?"
"You're self taught, right?" Marcus asked instead of answering. "That's not an insult, it's incredible that you managed to learn spatial magic from scratch, but you are. In contrast, I have the Royal treasury at my disposal. A personal library I've spent years building. Tomes and books and grimoires and more. You could learn a lot there."
Gretched hummed. "I am self taught, no shame in that. But why would you assume I am not simply an old witch enjoying my last years of life, Prince?"
"Because if you had no interest in learning more magic, in extending your craft, where is your apprentice? Where is she who will set forth your study of nature and space? I walked the nearby town, I know there's no lack of interest. You have been good to them, and three bright young women I spoke to told me each tried to convince you to take them in."
"Perhaps I cannot stand the slow and eager being wasteful with their youth."
"Or perhaps you see taking an apprentice as admitting you have learned all you can." Marcus replied, shrugging lightly. That was Vess' conclusion after speaking to the villagers, but he lost little if she was wrong. "I'm proposing that you teach. Teach and learn in a place where magical knowledge will be gathered."
The witch raised an eyebrow. "Will be gathered? Am I the first one you are speaking to, Prince?"
"You are. You will not be the last. I am willing to offer you a teaching position in my academy, Gretched, but it will be built with or without you. So you could sit here and enjoy what remains of your life, a choice I will not punish or scorn you for, or you can help me shape the future of the entire Kingdom. You can learn from those like yourself, those who spent their whole lives practising magic, and learn from more books than would fit in your house. That, or you could not. The choice is yours."
The witch didn't reply, and Marcus took a mental breath, forcing himself to mimic her. Talking to fill the silence was a natural habit of a great many people, but he'd said his piece. Vess didn't move, didn't really do anything but pretend to be a mute guard, so it stretched on.
Finally, after maybe half a minute, Gretched broke it. "I will not entertain mewling children or arrogant nobles. I will have the right to not teach anyone for any reason, good or not, and I will not give up my more treasured secrets freely."
"Done."
Gretched looked faintly surprised, Marcus smiling at her blandly, and she scowled as he pulled out a piece of paper for her to sign.
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"You did well with her," Vess murmured, tone kept low. "But this one is a different beast. We barely know anything, only have a vague idea that he lives here and the one person we spoke to about the druid said he was an asshole."
"True, but at least we're making good time. Besides, he's the most powerful druid in the country. That speaks to intelligence, no matter his temperament. You sure you don't want to be here for this?"
Vess shook her head, her dress evading a root like it was sentient. She might not be able to use magic, but her clothing sure acted magical. "Not this time. Those of nature tend to respect strength, assholes even more so. Don't give an inch. He'll want to influence the other druids more than he will let on."
"I thought we barely knew anything."
She answered by vanishing, retreating back to the Hells and her home. A cowardly move, Marcus judged, and he turned back towards the forest. A proper forest, at that, which made the one near Redwater seem so utterly mundane.
The trees seemed more alive, the animals more numerous and less afraid. The villages that bordered it didn't hunt within its borders and even the water sounded more sure. More confident as it flowed. A strange thought, perhaps, but it seemed accurate.
Druids controlled life and nature more so than almost any other discipline of magic. Here and now, Marcus appreciated that fact more than he ever had in his library. More than words could convey.
The local animals were perhaps the strangest. Bears and stags and wolves ran together in a single herd, only barely visible through the trees, while the path they'd been on seemed to split in four. Four paths he could take, each leading to Gods knew where.
Those of nature tend to respect strength.
Marcus flicked his hand, Xathar stepping through the portal and sniffing the air. Marcus' defenses snapped into place, the four matrices straining his mind, and he pulled himself up as the demonic horse started demanding offerings.
"I wish to eat a bear," Xathar said, moving forward at a low trot. Marcus adjusted himself, though there were no reins for him to grip. At least the saddle was high-quality. "I can smell them. Strong, meaty, supple bears. I wish to eat a bear."
"We'll see how this goes. Can you beat a bear in a straight fight?"
"I shall feast on its bones."
Marcus took that as a yes. "Good. And the druid?"
"I smell only the forest. Magic and its senses are for lesser creatures."
"That way," Marcus pointed, ignoring the wildly inaccurate insult. "Magic is heavier there than anywhere else. Ignore the paths, don't worry about my safety. Full speed."
Xathar turned his trot into a full run, Marcus clamping his legs together to avoid falling off. The inertia dampener stopped him from being sent flying when he hit a low branch, sure, but it didn't exactly anchor him in place. Didn't stop bad posture or sudden movement from making him fly.
And Xathar seemed to relish running. The demonic horse seemed to take it as a personal challenge to dodge each obstacle as narrowly as possible, too, and the trees started flying by before long.
He wasn't going much faster than if he'd ridden a normal horse, but Marcus doubted there were any as graceful as Xathar. And in the increasingly wild forest any regular horse would have long since broken its legs, whereas his mount found his footing as easily as if this were an open field.
It didn't take them long to get to their destination. Minutes, at best, though in that time Marcus felt the strain on his defenses. He wasn't unseated, but the shield dug greedily for power every time he hit something and the inertial dampeners eagerly joined in.
Xathar slowed to a halt, huffing loudly when a fairly young man stepped out of a wooden hut. Unlike the one Marcus had been in with the witch, this one seemed organic. Grown rather than built. A whole host of animals gathered around it, though there were few predators.
"This is my forest," the druid said, arms folding over his chest. "I won't have demons and uppity nobility run through it like they own the place."
Marcus dismounted, ignoring the host of sounds the animals made. "You are Kleph, the druid who's taken over the forest. Who forbids villagers from hunting in its borders, who reached an agreement with Lord Omash in return for the occasional favor. You, druid, are the most powerful of your kind in the kingdom."
"The little lordling did his homework," Kleph droned, affecting a bored tone. "Get to the point before I have my friends here chase you out and your father will have to apologise to Lord Omash."
"I very much doubt any of what you just said. You are the most powerful druid in the kingdom, Kleph, but that speaks more to their scattered nature than your personal might."
Marcus walked forward, Xathar sniffing at some of the fearless goats, and Kleph scowled. "What do you think you're doing, lordling?"
"I'm not a lordling, druid. And you were wrong before. This isn't your forest. It's mine. Just like the villages around it, the Lords who govern them, the Barons they answer to and the Dukes who oversee it all. The guards, the Court Mages, what personal retainers each of the aforementioned nobility has. All mine. And now, druid, you will show me the proper respect before I burn your entire forest to ashes."
Marcus let the environmental protection of his defenses drop, using the freed mental energy to spin up a different matrix. Arcane fire welled to life over his palm, the orb swirling and trashing with contained pressure, and Marcus looked at the druid with a raised eyebrow.
"You're the Prince," Kleph said, sounding not very pleased to realise that at all. His eyes flickered to the fire, his seemingly ever present scowl deepening. The man bowed regardless. "Forgive me."
Letting the fire go, and putting a bland smile on his face, Marcus looked at the druid's home. "Nothing to forgive, my good man. I, as you have probably surmised, have come for a reason. You see, I'm building a magical academy in the capital. A place where people can learn, study and expand their magical prowess. I'd like you to be one of the instructors."
Kleph shifted, and though Marcus wasn't particularly good at reading people he imagined Vess to be right. Kleph wanted to unite the druids, and a magical academy with royal backing would be a good chance for that.
Kleph grunted. "I'm no good in cities."
"Druids are not dependent on forests, though disliking cities is another matter. I'll put this simply, Kleph. Come with me and teach the next generation of druids, teach mages how to respect nature, or stay here. Rule an empty forest or your own grove, though in the latter case you will have to accept that you'll answer to me and me alone."
The druid flicked his hand, the gathered animals starting to disperse. Xathar let out a disappointed huff as the goat he'd been stalking vanished, the contract stating he should stay relatively close to Marcus himself.
"I want magical knowledge," Kleph said, tone short. "I don't mind teaching snot-nosed brats how to do some druid tricks, but I want knowledge in return. And my grove will not be interfered with."
"Agreed with the understanding that you, and your grove, answer directly to the crown. Be that in war, peace or politics."
A savage smile was his answer. "Nature knows more about war than humanity ever will. Come, Prince. We shall drink from the river and speak of this academy."
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Marcus didn't look at the guard as he entered through the gate, taking in the view of Minegrave. It wasn't exactly a big place, not like Redwater, but enough so to warrant being called a city. And a city had a city watch, one of their jobs apparently being to monitor the gate.
Yet Marcus looked exactly as all the other peasants did, especially with the cloak he was wearing to ward off the rain, so no one looked at him twice. Vess joined him a few dozen steps later, having entered ahead of him to ensure more strict identity verification wasn't being performed.
It was unlikely, and even if he'd been caught nothing bad would have happened, but the person he was here for wasn't exactly Minegrave's Lord. His target would likely run at the mere sight of the city watch, at that.
"We're making good time," Vess said, humming. "Half the country and back again and it only took two weeks."
"A horse that doesn't get tired is useful. My legs are feeling it, though."
She rolled her eyes, something which Marcus chose to ignore. It had been good for him, in truth. It grounded him in reality and the exercise he was getting was putting muscle on his bones, healing magic making that whole affair at least tolerable.
Pain wasn't so bad if it could be soothed at will.
"It's been good for you, too," Vess said. "You're less stressed. More balanced. Entering politics as you were would have been a mistake."
"If only I'd thought of that before leaving. Or made it one of my central reasons for it, really."
She rolled her eyes, inspecting the city as they walked through it. "Yes, yes. You're very clever. Now tell me how we are going to find a kid who dislikes authority, uses summons as proxies and literally grew up on these streets?"
"The same way he finds people, I assume. Summons."
Marcus walked into an alley, checked to make sure it was empty, then took out a piece of chalk. The summoning seal he needed now was fairly basic if not for him adding a multiplicative binding, which tightened the margin of error significantly.
One Phantom Bat, though, wasn't going to find much of anything anytime soon in a city this size. Four dozen, on the other hand, now that was better. Their ability to turn invisible to the naked eye helped, as did their knowledge of all spoken languages.
He wasn't actually sure how that latter ability worked, but the study of demons was a long and hard one for a reason. There were so many species, subspecies and outliers it was playing catch up from day one.
Now, he didn't actually know what the kid looked like. He had his rough age and the rumors of some brilliant mage in the city to go by, but nothing more. So his scouts would be looking for other summons rather than the summoner, which in turn would let him narrow down the kid's location.
Marcus was expecting to be in the city for a while.
Vess looked over his shoulder as he drew the seal, humming but not offering corrections. Not because his work was flawless, he wasn't that arrogant, but because her own study of magic was fairly limited. Good, especially compared to the average mage, but she wasn't a walking library.
A lot of his problems would be solved if she was. Marcus put it out of his mind, activating the seal and feeling the drain on his magic. The bats streamed out, flapping around him and settling where they could.
Vess greeted them in their own tongue, which was almost infamously hard to learn, and Marcus rolled his eyes. She had the habit of showing off, sometimes. It came with her nature.
"Listen up," he said. The bats turned to him, four dozen little demons giving him their full attention. "I'm looking for another summoner. Young, likely dressed in common clothing but surprisingly wealthy. Find any summons you see, trail them, then come back to me with any information you find. Don't be seen, avoid any other mages."
His little army of spies flapped their wings, taking off and vanishing from sight before they'd left the alley. His magical senses could still follow them for a little while, but soon enough that vanished too. Unless a mage was on the lookout for them, or close to his target, nothing would spot the swarm.
An hour of walking through the city turned to two, then that turned to lunch, and by evening the only information they'd gathered was dead ends. Some summons were going to the castle, where a Court Mage had no doubt summoned them for one reason or another, and the few that didn't hadn't gone anywhere interesting yet.
It was by morning that they'd finally found a lead, and to Marcus' surprise it didn't turn into a chase. Hells, it wasn't even an ambush. The kid just walked up to them. He was maybe a few years younger than Marcus himself, and literally threw a small pouch of coins at his feet.
Good thing he hadn't summoned Vess yet. The kid looked half terrified in spite of his bravado.
"I think there's been a misunderstanding," Marcus said, picking up the money with telekinesis and handing it back. The kid snatched it out of the air, tucking it away and tensing. "I'm not here to hurt or coerce you. I just have an offer. First things first. I'm Marcus."
The kid watched him for a long moment, grunting. "Barry. What do you want?"
"To offer you a job. I'm building a magical academy, and I want you to teach a class on summoning. Teach what your instincts and experimenting has taught you."
"You're a summoner. A good one going by how many bats you dominated. Why don't you teach it yourself?"
"I'll be too busy to lead day to day classes, though I plan to be involved."
"Busy with what?"
"Ruling the kingdom. Full disclosure, I'm the Crown Prince."
Barry cursed, a pair of small stone elementals stepping around the corner. Marcus raised his eyebrow at them, glancing back at the kid. Barry grunted. "I'm not going to attack you, I'm not stupid, but you should forget I exist."
"My offer is very much just that, an offer. But it'll only be so long before someone will put serious effort into finding you, especially if you keep using magic to steal. I don't think much of the mages in our kingdom, especially not those with cushy jobs serving the local nobility, but it only took me a day to track you down. If they try, I can't imagine it'll take them more than a week."
"I let you find me."
Marcus snorted. "If you say so. You're drawing attention, is what I'm getting at. Sooner or later people will want to make use of your skills, and if you're caught as a criminal your options worsen significantly."
Barry didn't reply immediately, Marcus being content to let the kid think. He'd successfully recruited two out of three already, and combined with the few Court Mages he felt he could trust, that made for a decent start. Enough of one to start teaching students, at which point the most brilliant among them could take up teaching positions themselves in due time.
It would work with or without the kid, but Marcus would rather do it with his help. None of his potential recruits had previous loyalties, even if they came with demands of their own. He was going to need a base of supporters independent of his father, and this was the best way he saw how.
"I have people I need to take care of," Barry finally replied. "I can't just fuck off to the capital to play at magic."
"Take them. Hells, I'll set up a new Royal directive to fund orphanages in the city. If you come with me, you'll grow. Learn more about magic and summoning. Have the resources to experiment and train. And the more power you hold, the better you can help others."
"And all I need to do is obey you."
Marcus straightened, giving the kid a flat look. "I'm the Crown Prince. Soon I'll be King. I'm planning to bring a new era of prosperity and progress, but make no mistake. I will be obeyed regardless of your choice here. You'll just not be in a position of power while I do so."
"...I have demands."
Marcus smiled. "I'm all ears. Breakfast? It's on me."