“Karvensi, I summon you.”
The karvensi appeared at her side. It was a little startling — when I was younger, I’d always expected summoning to have some kind of flashy special effect like a puff of smoke or a column of fire. Nothing like that happened — one moment the space next to her was empty, the next moment...bam, karvensi.
And he looked bemused.
“You again?” The winged figure crossed his rather formidable arms, glancing around. “And what is this? It looks like the Serpent Spire, only assembled by a child.”
“You’re not far off.” Sera smirked. “This is an academic test, designed to look similar to the tower. We’re trying to get through as many rooms as possible. We have very little information.” She pointed into the room with the throne. “Those vines grow when we step inside, so I figured a flying creature like yourself might be able to retrieve the things we need without triggering it.”
“I don’t feel like it.” The karvensi turned his nose upward.
Sera and I both gawked at him.
I glanced at Sera. “Are summoned monsters supposed to...do that?”
She shook her head vehemently. “Uh, I don’t think so?”
The karvensi sighed. “So rude. I’m right here you know.”
Sera wiped her forehead. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
I extended a hand toward the karvensi. “I’m Corin Cadence. We haven’t met, but I watched your work in that arena. Really quite impressive.”
The karvensi turned his head, glancing me up and down before focusing on my outstretched hand. “...really.”
I grinned. “Really! We could use someone with your skills to help with this test — and not just with the flying. I’m pretty sure some of the spells you cast in there were stronger than anything I could do on my own.”
Sera gave me an inquisitive look, and then turned back to the karvensi. “Will you help us?”
He turned toward her. “You, miss, were quite rude to bind me without a discussion. But, given that I’m aware that you were mid-battle and clearly out of your depth, I’m willing to put that aside — provided you’re willing to negotiate a real contract.”
She narrowed her eyes. “...can you even do that? You do know that you’re a temporary copy, right?”
The karvensi laughed. “Far better than you, child. It’s somewhat disconcerting to know that my lifespan is limited by your whim — and your available mana —and not feel any fear about it. I know I should have self-preservation instincts, but for some reason, I feel the urge to protect you instead. An element of the binding spell, of course, I have no real attachment to you.”
Lifting a hand, the karvensi looked upward, taking a breath. “There is not, however, any part of your spell that prevents me from thinking about my true self’s interests. You could compel me to take an action against my will. It is already an effort to resist your suggestion of what I could do to help you. But, if you’d rather make an ally than compel a duplicate, I may be willing to offer you a more permanent arrangement...Sera Cadence.”
Sera folded her arms. “And how would you know my name?”
“When another version of me was summoned to fight you, Miss Theas told me a bit about both you and your partner. I retain those memories, as well as the memories from the previous instance in which you summoned me. I will continue to accumulate memories when you summon me again, but your version of me is now distinct from the version contracted with Miss Theas, and thus I will not gain any memories from her subsequent summonings.”
I pointed at the room. “Okay, this is fascinating — really, it is — but we have a limited amount of time on this test. Can we discuss the summoning theory in more detail later?”
Sera raised a hand to silence me. “This is important, Corin. If I’m going to make a contract, that’s going to affect me long-term. You may want to go in there and start working on that room while the karvensi and I discuss.” She frowned, turning her head upward toward the karvensi’s. “Do you have a name?”
“Ah, you finally asked.” The karvensi looked down, meeting her gaze. “You may refer to me as Vanniv.” He folded an arm across his bare chest and made a formal bow, nearly smacking me with a wing in the process.
“A pleasure to formally meet you, Vanniv. Now, please tell me why your true self would benefit from me making an arrangement with a copy?”
“Ah, an excellent question. A mere copy could not normally negotiate on behalf of their true self — but I am a sorcerer, you see. And if we make a contract, I am quite capable of extending that contract back to the real Vanniv. You would then feed mana to him continuously. I’m sure you understand the process. In exchange, you would gain access to my true self’s more formidable abilities...and, of course, long-term access to this personalized copy.”
Sera ran a hand through her hair. “For someone without an instinct for self-preservation, that sounds remarkably like a plan from someone who doesn’t want to die.”
The karvensi grinned. “I said I didn’t have the urge to survive. Intellectually, however? I can still act on the knowledge of what I know I should want.”
I wasn’t kidding when I had said this was fascinating information, but it also wasn’t getting us any closer to finishing the test, and minutes had already past while they negotiated. If I had to guess, it would take at least a few more to come to specific terms. I didn’t know a lot about Summoners, but I did know that they had to negotiate how much mana they’d be feeding their summoned entities, the length of the contract, and some other details.
So, I was on my own for a bit.
I took a step closer to the throne room.
I needed to make some decisions.
My goal was to minimize the number of times I made contact with the ground, assuming that was how the room decided how much the vines should be growing.
Can I climb on the vines?