TV is TV Book 3: Chapter 38 (RAW)

Chapter 38 - Breaking the Barrier

Once we accept our limits, we go beyond them.

- Albert Einstein

The fight with the Liche had forced Seraphina to admit—however grudgingly—that for all her strength, she was not yet as strong as she could be. Unlike in the game, where she could grind levels until she was nigh unstoppable, that simply wasn’t possible here. Living The Maiden of the Wisterias was very different from playing it. The game had not, for instance, simulated going to the bathroom or the hundred small errands that devour a day. That—and the distinct lack of quests—was a problem. Besides, grinding was boring, and Seraphina still prized the savor of a challenge. One did not simply blast through enemies; one took the time to appreciate them. They made life interesting, far more than any so-called “friends.”

That didn’t mean Seraphina was above a little “cheating.” Winning was everything. So she made a decision that would shape her fate—and, though she didn’t yet know it, the future of two worlds. She wasn’t at the endgame Seraphina’s power level and wouldn’t be for a long while. That didn’t mean she couldn’t make use of someone who was. Her mother was one such candidate, but Seraphina had about as much hope of controlling her as a mouse has of controlling a cat. There was, however, another option—someone she could, if she were careful, at least point in the direction of her enemies.

Seraphina knew firsthand that negative emotions—hatred most of all—were easiest to steer. That would be her hand on the reins. She would summon the planned day-one DLC and expansion boss: the Herald of the End Times, the Knight of Black and Gold. The risk was obvious. Bringing such a figure across would require finesse, and everything hinged on how precisely she defined the summoning circle’s limits. Too weak a version and he’d be useless; too strong and he might quite literally end the world and usher in another Cataclysm.

But what is life without a few risks? she thought dryly. Spice is spice.

“Tia…” she breathed.

The little Fairy popped into being as if from nowhere, wearing some of the toymaker’s clothes inside out. On anyone else, Seraphina would have found it insufferable. With Tia, she found it—annoyingly—endearing. Sort of.

“How many times must I tell you…” sighed the girl in exasperation. 

Seraphina patiently undressed the Fairy and put her clothes back on the right way. The Fae, the folk of the Ways Between, were adept at more than simple Glamour and Illusion.

“Tell me, Tia,” Seraphina said, “how would you like to Bring something new into this world? Heavens, Zed Valize could use a shake-up.”

“You would have me… do my own Bringing? But I am much too young for that. Only the Elders can—” protested the Fairy.

“You are the Eldest now,” Seraphina replied dryly, thinking of the little bit of genocide she had visited upon Tia’s people.

They were people, she reminded herself, who had treated Tia as less than a slave. In Seraphina’s eyes, she was only redressing a fraction of the world’s injustice.

Tia’s wings drooped at the memory—but being Tia, she perked up almost at once. “Yes! Ha! I am Eldest now, and I can do whatever I want. Tia wins! Ha!” declared the Fae proudly, planting her tiny hands on her hips. “But even the great Tia cannot do this alone!”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem. Eloise will help you,” Seraphina said sweetly. “Milly!”

A few seconds later, the ever-flustered Miriam entered the dormitory common room—now Seraphina’s private realm that none dared trespass. “Yes, milady?” The maid glanced around, confused; she was certain she had heard her lady speaking to someone.

“If you would be so kind as to fetch Eloise, wherever she might be, I would be most grateful,” Seraphina said smoothly, brushing the front of her dress.

***

Miriam returned with Eloise a few minutes later and, with a curtsy, excused herself from the room.

Eloise, her doll-like lady-in-waiting, folded her hands at her waist. “You called for me, my lady?” she asked with no small amount of trepidation.

Summons like this from Lady Seraphina usually meant something was about to happen. Like Miriam, Eloise was soon learning to gauge her mistress.

“Yes.” Seraphina’s smile was bright and sharp. “You’re going to help Tia.”

Eloise blinked. “Help… whom? Is Tia one of the girls in another class, perhaps?”

“Tia,” Seraphina repeated, then sighed. “Tia, stop being silly and let her see you.”

A shimmer peeled away from the air like silk being lifted. The little Fairy crystallized into view mid-flit, batwings making her look like an imp. Eloise’s breath caught; her hands rose to her mouth.

“Oh!” she gasped, delight spilling through the single syllable. “She’s—oh, she’s beautiful.”

Inside, however, the dark-haired girl was quite perturbed. Dealings with the Fae nearly always had their complications, unwanted curses being one of them, and a stint of seven years of bad luck being another.

Tia preened instantly, puffing herself up with both pride and wings. “Yes! Tia is the prettiest. You may praise more.”

“If you flatter her any more, she will grow too big and pop,” Seraphina said dryly. “Now, to work. Eloise, you will help Tia create a summoning circle.”

“A summoning? My lady, why and how?” Eloise’s voice pitched up, a scholar’s protests wrestling with a lady-in-waiting’s obedience. “Summoning magic is… well… it’s notoriously difficult. Dangerous, the Magisters say. And, I have only just begun my magical studies…”

“Danger, nonsense! It will be fine. You are gifted. With Tia’s help, it should be a doddle,” Seraphina declared, smoothing an imaginary crease from her skirt. “You can find whatever else you need from the library. Research to your heart’s content.” 

Seraphina was quite sure this was how the protagonist unlocked the DLC contents in the game.

De Sariends continued. “Have Milly assist you if you need anything at all, supplies and so forth. Tia will help fill in the gaps, or will do the majority of the work herself, come to think of it.” The blonde girl paused for a moment as she took in her lady-in-waiting’s doubts. “Oh, don’t look so worried, darling, I am sure if you follow her instructions, you’ll be able to make a functional circle before supper. The problem is, I want to place some conditions on the circle… and that is where you will come in. That is, it might take a few days at least before you can get one together to my specifications.”

“Before—” Eloise swallowed. “Yes, my lady. Conditions?”

“Yes,” Seraphina answered with a thin smile. “Though the circle is here, the summoned being must be projected to near me… near enough, at least.”

A tiniest fragment of worry wormed its way into Seraphia’s heart. Wormed its way, and kept burrowing.

Tia hovered near Eloise’s cheek, studying her like a jeweler appraising a gem. “We will need a focus,” the tiny Fae announced. “To lock the Bringing. An item already braided with magic.”

“And a place,” Eloise added, gathering herself. “Circles are… or so I have heard, quite particular. Their foundation matters.”

“Under my bed will do,” Seraphina said. 

Both the dark-haired girl and Fairy turned to stare at her.

“Under—your—bed?” de Laney repeated faintly, looking rather befuddled.

Tia tilted her head prettily. “That is… bold. Summonings work best where the summoner’s thread runs thick through the world. A nest of memory. A den of scent. A place of sleeping and secrets.” She brightened. “Oh. Under the bed is good.”

Seraphina nodded as if the matter were as mundane as choosing tea. “Exactly. It’s mine, thoroughly. As for the focus… we’ll use my Beast Lore amulet.” She unclasped the platinum and gold chain. “This will key the trigger to me.”

Eloise reached out, stopped herself a breath away from touching it, and looked up for permission. Seraphina arched a brow; Eloise took the amulet gingerly, reverent as a priest with a relic.

“We’ll need chalks, ink, mountain salt, and Mithril filings,” Eloise murmured, already sliding into her cataloging trance. “High grade Zajasite for warding, a compass, a straightedge, fresh candles—white and black—and a brazier. And texts—The Binder’s Lexicon, perhaps, and Master Halvern’s commentary on constraint sigils.”

“Tia needs petals,” the Fairy added, ticking items off on tiny fingers. “Wisteria if possible. Or lavender. Pretty things help the circle behave.” She paused, then grinned wickedly. “And honey cakes. For Tia.”

Seraphina’s lips twitched. “If you deliver results, there will be cakes.”

“Then Tia will deliver the best results,” Tia declared, somersaulting midair.

Eloise, buoyed by purpose, sank to her knees and peered under the bed. “There’s space enough if we pull the rug and lay boards. I can scribe a seven-pointed geometry with a binding weave between vertices. The amulet at the heart as the locus, a peripheral ward to dampen resonance—”

“And a leash,” Seraphina said. “We are summoning a great Knight who rather enjoys ending things. I would prefer him on a short chain. Though any binding is less… than effective against him.”

Eloise nodded briskly, eyes bright now. “A Knight! Just like the old tales! Like Sir Clarence of the Singing Sword. Yes, my lady. We’ll braid constraint into the perimeter—something that keys to your name and breath.”

The blonde girl just smiled smugly.

“And to hate,” the Fairy chimed, tapping her temple. “Tia knows how to thread the dark bits. Easy to guide. I have some in me. Like sparks to oil.”

“Good,” Seraphina said. “Go. Library, storerooms—whatever you need. Miriam will smooth the way. I’ll clear the space.”

“But how will we focus the Bringing? Such a call needs guidance,” Tia added.

But Seraphina had already thought of that. Taking out a small piece of parchment she drew the logo for the DLC, a stylized knight riding a massive manticore rampant. 

The others looked at it curiously for a moment. 

“Copy this on each of the points,” Seraphina commanded.

“Who is this?” Fairy and girl replied almost in unison.

“A rather big surprise… if we are successful. I do not wish to call upon his services unless I must, but just having the ability to do so at any time will give me a certain amount of… leverage. At least with the Church,” Seraphina grinned evilly.

***

Over the next three days they settled into a steady, purposeful rhythm. On the first afternoon, hurried off, skirts scooped in one hand, already reciting titles under her breath. Tia zipped in delighted spirals, then darted after her—a glimmering herald who made doors open and servants jump. Seraphina dragged the bed aside one-handed, rolled back the rug, and knelt on the cool boards. She breathed out once, slow, and the room seemed to lean closer.

Under my bed, she thought, amused. There really would be a monster under my bed, if only for a microsecond at his summoning when he breached the way between world.

By evening they returned laden—books, boxes, candle bundles, a brazier, chalks of several grains, precious Mithril, inks that stank faintly of iron. Seraphina handed over the amulet, and the work began in earnest: chalk baselines struck true with plumb and cord, circles measured to a hair; salt sifted in whispering arcs; Mithril filings scattered across strategic locations. Eloise drafted the first schema with a calligrapher’s grace; Tia dotted petals at compass points and sang a lilting, tune. Seraphina watched, correcting a line with a fingertip here, a ratio there, her presence the quiet rock around which the working coalesced.

The second day of their great work dawned with smudged fingers and fever-bright eyes. Eloise vanished and reappeared in library cycles, returning each time with another commentary, another marginal note on constraint sigils and leash-knots. The morning was given to redrawing the outer ward after a resonance test rattled the candlesticks; the afternoon to weaving a dampener into the seventh segment so the geometry would not “hum” at the wrong names. 

Tia, sticky-mouthed with honey cakes and full of opinions, threaded the dark bits—hate and hunger—through anchoring Runes, then re-threaded them when Seraphina, seeing the smallest of mistakes, lifted a brow. A summoning like this demanded perfection.

Miriam ferried fresh clothes, fresh candles, and caffeinated tea strong enough to polish armor with the smallest drops of Cornelia’s venom. Night fell. They tested. The lines held, then flexed, then held again. They slept in shifts on chairs and cushions while the ink cured and the salts settled.

On Day Three the circle became beautiful. Eloise replaced the provisional sigils with final strokes, ink flowing like molten obsidian; Tia, in rare solemnity, set each petal with a whispered name of the Wind. Seraphina keyed the sub-wards to her breath and pulse, then braided the Beast Lore Amulet’s thread through the heart-locus until the air prickled with the song of Mana. They paused at noon to listen: no wheeze, no wobble, only a low, obedient thrum of barely suppressed energies that tested the bindings of this world. By late afternoon a geometry like a snowflake and a snare gleamed beneath the bed—precise, patient, and hungry.

Eloise blew a stray lock from her brow. “I think… I think it’s sound.”

Tia clapped, eyes star-bright. “It is clever. It smells like you,” she told Seraphina happily, “and like storms.”

“Good,” Seraphina said, and the amulet at the circle’s heart answered with a soft, content purr. “All that remains is for me to choose which version of our guest we invite—” her smile sharpened, “—and how hard I’ll pull on his leash.”