Two days later, she put it into action. Before dawn she opened the doors of the sect to two yawning reporters, and one that was apparently used to being up at all hours, carrying some sort of clever covered mug and a bag of supplies. Sasha Melancourt, Josaiah Banecroft, and Maximilian Ferot were the three reporters she could find on short notice. If her detractors were leveraging the press so would she.

  “Come in, welcome to a ‘Day in the Life of a Sectmaster’.”

  “Thank you, happy to be here!” Sasha’s bright voice made the other two flinch. She took a sip from the mug and bounced inside past Laurel, the other two shuffling after. Laurel led them to a side table set with a steaming pot of tea and a few pastries.

  “Our cook suggested you might need something to hold you over until breakfast,” she told them. “Grab anything you’d like or let anyone know if you need anything. Some of the members like something light before and a heartier breakfast after but some skip it entirely. Training starts in about a quarter hour, and I like to get there a few minutes ahead of everyone else.”

  The reporters fell on the food like wolves on a carcass, and Laurel flashed a subtle gesture of approval to where Esther was standing, just out of sight. When they’d had their fill, Laurel led them back outside to their training field. A few minutes later, a trail of sleepy students joined them, forming up in loose rows by muscle memory.

  “Good morning everyone,” Laurel said.

  “Good morning, Sectmaster,” they chorused back.

  “Now I’m sure you’ve all noticed we have some guests today. They’re here to observe what goes on, and maybe join in if they’re feeling brave. Just try and focus on behaving as usual.” She watched as a half dozen of them immediately stood straighter or flailed their hands, like they forgot where to put them. “You know what’s coming, light stretches and then two dozen laps, let’s go.”

  After that she tried to follow her own advice, leading the rest of the sect on a jog around the double block of the field and the sect house. Martin had used his earth affinity to reinforce the track, while keeping the top layer soft enough to run on without causing any pain. Laurel had used her work with the Core to guide some of the ambient mana to keep the effect in place, and to keep the grass alive despite the constant trampling.

  She kept to an even pace, easy for her and a workout for the students. Enough to get their hearts pumping and improve their endurance by a hair. With her spiritual senses she watched when one by one those with the ability started circulating mana intentionally to keep up the pace. When she felt the effort acceptable, she slowed and brought them back to the field.That was probably about the right amount of laps but counting was pointless, none of them would dare stop until she told them to.

  The run was followed by their usual workout. First general exercises, and then morphing into combat forms. Laurel led those from the front, calling out at the students when she spotted errors. Only one of the reporters had taken up her challenge and tried to join in. Poor Josiah was a trembling, sweaty mess by the time Laurel had the others paired up for sparring.

  She jogged over to the little group of reporters while the kids organized themselves. “I’m just going through to correct things, then we’ll have an hour of cultivation practice. Feel free to grab a seat or go back inside if you need anything.”

  They nodded along but made no move to leave. Maximilian in particular looked fascinated. “You do this every day?”

  “They get rest days off. And once they reach a certain base level of competency, they’re allowed to do the exercises, physical and magical, on their own time if they prefer. Most still join in. I think it’s easier to do something hard when your friends are right there with you.”

  She jogged into the midst of her sparring students and got back to teaching. Thankfully it went as normal. Rebecca and Gabrielle were paired up and caused the most drama of the morning. This time Laurel had to split them up not because of their burning hatred, but because they spent more time chatting about possible challenge ideas than actually working. She wasn’t saying anything but she’d made a bet with Adam before he left, that by the time he returned the two would be fast friends. And she was definitely going to win.

  The sect members had mostly forgotten the reporters were there by the time they traipsed into their normal chaotic breakfast. But Cooper was still sitting like he had a metal rod welded to his spine, and a few of the others were sneaking glances every other bite.

  “Where to next, Madame Stormblade?” Sasha’s question brought Laurel’s attention off her students and back to the head of the table, where Josiah and Maximilian were muttering about how good the food was.

  “We have a busy day ahead,” Laurel told her. “We’ll start low and work our way up. First I need to stop by the fort to speak with General Mansfeln. Then the guild office to consult with our guild leader. I’m sure Madame Sabrina would be willing to answer a few questions as well. Then we have a hospital, a lecture at the University on magic theory, some infrastructure maintenance and back here for dinner.”

  “I’m glad I wore sensible shoes,” Sasha said.

  Laurel felt slightly bad when they got to Fort Sarken. She was shown into one of the normal meeting rooms, while the reporters were competently herded to an isolated waiting area. None of them seemed put off though, so she put it out of her mind and focused on the meeting.

  “Curson sent a note yesterday about stable aerial defenses,” Mansfeln started. The man had long given up on faking pleasantries, and Laurel respected it, to an extent.

  “The Black Hole Obsidian has a much higher capacity than I initially thought. So floating defenses aren’t out of the question, in addition to the planned air cab routes, though it will take some time. And you’ll still have to build whatever you want up there.”

  “What happens if someone goes in and steals it, if it's so powerful? Hmm?”

  Laurel held back from smirking. No one likes people who smirk. “Taking a natural treasure anchored in a city this size isn’t so easy. But trust me when I say anyone who tries is in for a very bad day.”

  “Very well. Now, onto training agreements.”

  They spent the better part of an hour discussing what the sect could do for the city and the country, and what that might cost. The army had done reasonably well in replicating her early successes and getting their soldiers to the novice level. Had even used her former students to help some others reach the initiate stage, but their programs were stalling out there. Trip had done some interesting things with reinforcing his plane, but cultivation was hard. Especially without a sect and the knowledge of others to go off of.

  Mansfeln wanted Laurel to continue the mentorship. Laurel wanted Mansfeln and the army to go through the guild and pay the (somewhat exorbitant) rates for private lessons. By the time Laurel left with her temporary retinue, she was looking forward to a friendly face.

  It turned out that face was Leander’s. With everything else going on, Laurel had lost track of the guild duty roster weeks ago, so it was her own fault she was surprised. He puffed up when they walked in, doing his best to look intimidating. The effect was slightly mitigated by the fact that his feet didn’t yet hit the floor when he sat on the chair, the desk swallowing his slight frame behind it.

  “Welcome to the Magician’s Guild.” Leander said using his artificial voice.

  “How did you do that,” Sasha asked.

  “The stone is magic,” Leander answered. “I push mana in and the sound comes out.”

  “They’re pretty common as alarms, or they were when I was young,” Laurel added. “This one is pretty basic since it relies on Leander’s impressive control to shape the words themselves.”

  “I thought you could heal though, why didn’t you just fix him?”

  “I’m not broken.” The flat voice Leander’s stone created couldn’t convey emotion, but Laurel still heard a whole lifetime of pain in that statement.

  “No, that is, of course not, I didn’t mean…” Sasha drifted off.

  “I’m sure we all know that’s not what you meant. Leander was getting by just fine before he joined the sect, but we find this to be a good help. Maybe one day if anyone in the sect learns a technique that works on an injury like his, he can have those discussions. But it’s not the focus for anyone.

  “Why don’t we all take a look around the guild while we wait for Sabrina,”Laurel said.

  She followed her own directions. It was looking much more professional than the shabby little shop that she and Adam had used to make their plans and grab attention of higher-ups in the city. Now small tins and boxes lined shelves behind the desk, basic magical goods for purchase by the general public. A cozy seating area took up one side of the room, where Eric was waiting and reading a novel. But the main draw was the job board that dominated an entire wall, and it attracted the reporters like a flock of magpies.

  “What does it do?” Josiah asked, tapping gently at the thin pane of crystal.

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  “For now it keeps a record of guild jobs, who takes them, compensation, advertisements for services, things like that. When we establish subsidiaries in other cities, we’ll use it for communication and a few other things as well.”

  “Fascinating, but aren’t you worried about theft? If it’s that useful?”

  Laurel smiled with teeth. “You could deconstruct this building brick by brick and you still wouldn’t be able to move that notice board. Devon really did an incredible piece of work there.”

  “And who is this Devon,” Maximilian asked, “a member of your sect?”

  “Not of the sect no, but he’s a master enchanter and a member of the guild. He was one of the people who constructed the ward that kept the mana beasts in the ocean away from the city during the last wave.”

  Sabrina entered from her office with perfect timing, taking over from Laurel in answering the questions being tossed out rapid fire by the reporters. Laurel slipped out during this phase and bought lunch for everyone from a street vendor. The ubiquitous meat on a stick, a meal that transcended time, continents, and civilization itself. She returned the conquering hero, and started to get slightly worried about the usual habits of reporters.

  They all seemed to be just a bit shocked every time they saw food, and determined to eat as much as they could. Lunch was spent in the meeting Laurel and Sabrina would have usually had, discussing the jobs and duties of the various sect members, and the requests they’d gotten in from far-flung regions of the country not yet subdued by Theresa and their other members.

  “If we leave now, we’ll get to the hospital right on time. Come on Eric.” Laurel said when the skewers were empty and handkerchiefs had been passed around.

  “Oh, do you usually bring your students with you on errands?” Maximilian asked.

  “Sometimes. The philosophy that was set by the original founders of our sect emphasizes independent action, away from one’s elders. Giving our students room to learn for themselves. Triumph or make mistakes on their own merit.” She reached over and grabbed Eric by the nape, giving a little shake for emphasis. “But Eric here is interested in becoming a dedicated healer. Since we need to stop by one of the royal hospitals, it seemed a good excursion for him to join in on.”

  She led the group towards the nearby air cab station. One of her demands when she set the system up – which Curson, to her credit, agreed with – was to ensure the flying barges serviced the Flats as well as the upper districts. When they arrived, Laurel was gratified to see it working, an orderly line of locals was already forming in anticipation. This route would stop several places within the Flats, at the hospital a couple of districts up the hill where their party would disembark, a few of the tenement housing blocks where the old or infirm, or those that simply couldn’t afford rent ended up, more stops along major routes and then back down to the Flats.

  The cab arrived with two uniformed guards flanking the driver. Curson worked fast. Everyone filed on in an orderly manner, though Laurel couldn’t help but scan for signs of hidden weapons. She settled in at the back with her gaggle of reporters for the half hour it would take to get there.

  “What do you think of the cabs? Have you taken them before?” She asked. It didn’t count as fishing for compliments if it was also polite chit chat.

  “No, I haven't taken one yet.” Josiah was poking at the wooden railing, even leaning slightly over the side. “It’s always a sight when they soar by though. I can’t believe we’ve come so far in my lifetime. Where do they even put the steam engine?”

  “What?” Laurel trailed off. “There’s no steam engine. It’s powered by magic. The same magic that formed that dome around the city to keep out magic attacks.”

  “Truly? I had no idea. How does that work then?”

  She spent the rest of the ride to the hospital explaining some rudimentary theory about City Cores, and how they functioned. Finally able to recognize a good public relations moment when she saw one, she focused on the benefits to regular citizens, and those she already had in place for Verilia.

  The actual visit to the hospital was thankfully unexciting. Laurel was there mostly to drop off a few materials, bandages and salves infused with mana to promote easier healing. While the sect and a few other local cultivators had been working to supply the local hospitals, they were still woefully short of spreading to the whole city. It was a process, she reminded herself. They would get there. When Eric looked like he had worn himself out, she sent him back to the sect house and made her way to the university alone with the reporters.

  As a venue for her guest lecture, the University had decided once more to send her to their old stone amphitheater. If she filtered out the buzz of the students, she could hear the waves crashing against the cliffs far, far below, and a few slate drakes scraping against the rock to dig a nesting area beneath the dais. Her ducklings crowded around while they waited for the students and professors to join in.

  “Do you often give lectures? I was under the impression you were more close with your secrets.” Sasha asked. The other two leaned in just slightly, thinking the same thing.

  “The Eternal Archive has worked hard to collect and preserve knowledge and cultivation, I’m not planning on giving that away to the public. But general mana theory was never secret in the past. I’d like to demystify things a bit. The Chair of Natural Sciences reached out with the opportunity and I decided to take them up on it.”

  “So this isn’t a further recruitment scheme?” Maximilian prodded.

  “You’ve seen the sect. We don’t need to push the recruitment right now. Not that we’ll turn everyone away, but I’m actually hoping that more people outside the sect understand what I’m doing.”

  Laurel spotted a green-robed figure scurrying towards her and directed the reporters off to their seats. The professor arrived, huffing and puffing, and grabbed her hand to shake it.

  “Madam Stormblade, we are so excited to have you here. I’m happy we can also announce that we’ve recently gotten approval and funding for a professorship in magical theory. We’re still looking to recruit appropriate candidates but this guest lecture will serve as the official start of the search.”

  Laughing at the man’s enthusiasm wouldn’t be in line with the benevolent warrior-scholar she was trying to portray, so she didn’t. But he was just so very earnest. And definitely going to get scammed with this job search. “I’m happy to be here, thank you for the invitation. I wish you luck and caution in the talent search.”

  “Quite right, quite right.” He turned to the crowd and waved to get the attention. Most of the students were in green-trim to match the professor and display their scientific concentrations, but there were a good mix of other colors splashed about as well.

  “Students, and esteemed guests, we are happy to announce that the Royal University of Verilia is opening applications for a professorship in magical theory, in the School of Natural Science.” Polite applause greeted his announcement, though the students’ tepid response didn’t dim the man’s enthusiasm in the slightest.

  “To celebrate this momentous occasion, we have the Sectmaster of the Eternal Archive, Madam Laurel Stormblade. Her talk will be titled ‘Population Centers and their Distortion in Ambient Mana, with a focus on City Cores’. I trust you will give it your full attention as diligent students of this great University.”

  After another disinterested round of applause, it was Laurel’s time to shine. She had quite a bit of experience teaching, both as one of the only experienced cultivators in her sect for the last few years, and in the far past as a large-scale technique expert.

  Different students, different institutions, different millenia, exact same response. A few kids in the front looked interested, a larger section was paying attention but more out of obligation than passion. And a small group were not paying attention at all. One student in the farthest corner was even asleep. If she hadn’t been the same way once upon a time, she would be very offended right about now. But she had and she understood. Deep theory was just never as exciting as learning how to shoot a lightning bolt. She reached the end of her prepared lecture and clapped her hands to get the attention of those drifting away.

  “Now for a more practical demonstration for the importance of Core cultivation.”

  Golden light wreathed Laurel, welling up from beneath the dias and spreading across her skin. She focused and sent the light to fill the amphitheater. The students were transfixed, a few shouting in alarm but calming quickly when no harm befell them. As the minutes passed, the light resolved into several streams, winding through the air and into the ground at random points throughout the open space.

  “This is a visual representation of the mana flows in this area. Watch how the light moves in predictable patterns and speeds.

  “And this is a map of the mana flows from two years ago.” As she spoke, Laurel pushed more concentration into accessing the Core. She reached into its memory and brought up the day she first connected with it. The light went wild. The arena was lost to a golden storm as the streams bucked and pulled, crashing into each other and breaking apart into something entirely new. Even just as a memory, the chaos was overwhelming. Laurel watched as students flinched and ducked away from the onslaught. After her point was well made she stopped and the world faded back to normal.

  “You might see now why one is able to support infrastructure and one is a mess waiting to happen.”

  The final round of applause was more heartfelt than the rest. Laurel thought the professor might weep with joy from his seat in the front row. With only a few lingering questions, Laurel and her squad for the day were able to escape.

  “That was quite a show,” Sasha said when Laurel paused them all by the gates.

  “Teach enough and you realize you need to give them something flashy to hang on to, or it all just drifts away like mist in the breeze.”

  “You can’t have been teaching that long,” Josiah interrupted. “But quite impressive, nonetheless,” he tacked on hastily after seeing Sasha’s cutting expression.

  Laurel smiled at the interplay. “I’m a lot older than I look. Cultivation has more benefits than you might expect.”

  “What next,” Maximilian asked? The man was leaning against the wall with his eyes drooping. The others weren’t doing much better. It had been a long day for them, and they didn’t have superhuman endurance.

  “One last task, take a look.”

  She paced around the street until she found the place she wanted, far enough to the side to be out of traffic, but still reachable by anyone that wandered by.

  Gripping the docile mana flows she’d just used in her demonstration, Laurel pulled. The ambient mana was used to obeying her, and the process went quickly. In just a minute, there was enough to coalesce into a fist-sized mana crystal, floating at chest height. More willpower went in, more mana crystalized until there was an obelisk, a hair under two meters tall, melted into the paving stones. The crystal was a blue so pale you would barely notice, clear as glass and yet difficult to see through. Satisfied, she stepped back.

  “Why?” Josiah asked.

  “It’s pretty?” Sasha said, her voice going up at the end like she wasn’t quite sure what the right reaction was.

  “I’m building a network of these pillars around the city,” Laurel announced. “Slowly, of course. I got the idea from the attack on the air cab the other day. Did you hear about that?” It was a foolish question since it made the front page of each of their publications. “The pillars can act like alarms to alert the guards. They’ll send sparks into the air if a gun goes off nearby. Eventually they’ll also be able to tap into the city-wide alarms. If enough people bond to the city, we might be able to even more. Dampen fires or give off a healing aura.”

  “Excuse me, bond to the city?” Maximilian asked, arrowing to the heart of the matter.

  This was the point in the day Laurel had been waiting for, and she had to play it carefully. As though this was just an offhand comment during one of her services to the good people of Verilia, and not her driving long-term goal.

  “Hmm? Yes. It’s like an attestation of citizenship. The pillars will work for that as well, actually. Someone presses their hand against it and focuses on their belonging to Verilia, and the Core recognizes them as belonging to the city.”

  “Why would anyone do that?” Max asked, aghast.

  “Oh, longer life and better health for the most part. There are some other benefits as well, though in the past, most people were more interested in the improvements to the city. The teleportation network and the rest, public magic workshops and all that.”

  “What’s the catch?” He asked.

  “Fair question. You can be tracked more easily by someone with access to the Core. Very few people skip out on taxes in a fully developed City. Your mana can be used for the City’s defense, though non magic-users don’t use theirs anyway. And that’s about it.”

  “Enough standing around then.” Sasha marched over to the pillar.

  “Miss Melancourt, hold for a moment,” Josiah reached after her but stopped before making contact.

  “You two can do what you like, but my editor wanted a front-page story. And those don’t end with walking away before the finale.”

  Before any of the others could lodge a complaint, Sasha placed her hand on the pillar and screwed her face up in concentration. Laurel maintained her serene appearance, but inside she was practically dancing a jig. This was a better result than anything she would have hoped or asked for. At best this day was meant to paint her as a harmless force for good, seeding the idea of official citizenry. Nowhere in her wildest dreams had she thought one of the reporters would actually go through with it just to get a better story.

  Sasha would hardly be the first. Plenty of the friends and families of her sect, along with those she healed or otherwise interacted with had already become citizens. A grass-roots campaign organized by the kids was bringing in a small but steady trickle, not to mention the noble households she had spent the past month hobnobbing with, making it out to be an exclusive privilege to get in early. None of those people wrote for fashionable magazines, however.

  “Oh!” Sasha exclaimed and removed her hand. “I felt that. Did it work?”

  “It did, congratulations.”

  “What did it feel like, in detail please.” Josiah said, pencil poised above his notebook.

  “Try it yourself if you want the exclusive, Josiah, I’m not writing your story for you.”

  The agonized look on the man’s face would be comical in any scenario Laurel didn’t need for goodwill. “I have two more I want to place this afternoon, you can think about it as we go. Or come back later.”

  The neighboring districts got their pillars as the sun sank towards the horizon. The reporters were flagging but still looked tempted when Laurel invited them back to the sect house for dinner.

  “I can’t, apologies Miss Stormblade, but I need to get writing,” Josiah said.

  With the other two echoing the sentiment, Laurel left them near the middle of the hill and journeyed back through the Flats on her own. Her actual work day wouldn’t end for hours yet, with the paperwork still to fill out, and students to answer questions for, and planning for the future. But she didn’t want to actually kill the reporters who tried to keep up. She could go without sleep while they could not.