A knife thrust from a stone dagger took me in the stomach, but it didn''t lacerate my skin deeply enough to kill me instantly. The pain was almost unbearable. Another almost got me in the side. But now my short sword was in play. I had never dropped it, but I couldn¡¯t use it while lying in the dirt.
A deep uncontrolled slash and the one who stabbed me in the gut also got a deep cut through its breastbone that, when you considered the excessive amount of life energy I was pouring into the blade in my semi-panicked state it acted as if a chainsaw had ripped through the goblin¡¯s chest. The sweep of my sword continued onward, only slowing down a little, and angled itself into the next goblin standing beside it.
The final goblin up close charged madly and suicidally. I pulled my sword out and held the blade straight, like a boar charging a spear, and that goblin embedded itself on my edge and continued running until its guts slid all the way down to my hilt.
The last two goblins were clinging to the sides of the cage throwing feces and twigs at me. But I had a deep cut in my stomach that would kill me if I left it much longer, so I moved to the furthest part of the cage away from them, concentrated and set wave after wave of healing energy targeted there.
The wound closed up. It wasn¡¯t gone, and it still hurt, but it was good enough since I was in no danger of dying in the next few minutes.
The rain of debris continued to rain down. I¡¯d never really gotten used to the horrible stench. Even when I cleaned out Mr. Bigglesworth¡¯s cage, the smell of his filth was horrendous. But for combat, I¡¯d figured out a few simple runes to channel wind magic away from my nose, and it blocked the smell somewhat.
Ready again, I picked up one of the dead and dying goblin¡¯s stone knives. I concentrated and filled it with damaging life energy that I used on my sword and when it was ready, ran forward and as soon as I was close in, tossed the goblin''s knife up and threw the stone blade at one of the goblins.
The knife hit. Not by the blade but it didn¡¯t matter since the whole thing was deadly to anyone touching it except me. The simple brush of the stone against the goblin¡¯s skin was enough to cause a horrible welt on its body, and it fell off the side of the cage in pain. Then I walked over to it and stuck my sword into its chest.
The last goblin was a little harder but not much. It managed to dodge three thrown stone daggers, but the fourth one I threw took it down and it too died with a sword buried in its guts.
I turned and glared at Wilmette.
¡°Wut wuz that?¡± I said. ¡°Wut wuz that before we start?¡±
¡°Kill gobbles too easy. I give unexpected. Always look unexpected,¡± Wilmette said. Or Killing goblins was too easy. He was adding an element of the unexpected, and I should always look out for the unexpected.
¡°My blood,¡± I said.
¡°Wah. Wah. Cry itty baby,¡± he said.
I let the matter drop. Someday there would be payback. Though whether I would rip Wilmette''s guts out when he was sleeping or name my future children after him remained to be seen.
The rest of the day was spent cleaning up the cage and resting, and doing my best do drive Mr. Bigglesworth crazy. Out of sheer boredom, I had created a laser-pointer spell, and when Wilmette wasn¡¯t around, I would casually sit beneath a tree about 4 yards away while a tiny red dot would randomly flick around my pet Goblin¡¯s cage.
Who''d have known it, but goblins are like cats after taking a catnip shower when they see a red dot. Who would have known it?
I also took a few short naps, well out of sight of the campsite.
Wilmette was, of course, off somewhere out of sight torturing and breathing in the life goblin¡¯s essence. He always kept at least one of the green skinned almost humans after the fight as his own. Sometimes he kept two. Either way, he would be gone for a couple more hours, and I didn¡¯t feel like doing anything productive.
Besides I had a plan.
That night I pretended to sleep. And when Wilmette left the campsite four hours later I followed him, hidden in the shadows, dark by my new spells to his mage sight.
Slowly through the deep night air and guided by the starlight we made our way to the dungeon. It was the first time I had been back here since I had found it months ago. Wilmette had warned me to keep away. According to him, this was his dungeon.
Which was bullshit.But I let him think it was his since there was nothing I could do to take it away from him.
In the darkness, I could see that all around the base of the trees there were rotting corpses of goblins. Some were staked out and tortured. Others had been stabbed and had been left to rot. The air smelt of death.
The foliage made a perfect wall that filled with thorns. Somehow I expected a dungeon to be a hole in the ground, leading to a cave system. Instead, Wilmette began to climb a massive tree whose branches grew inplaces where an adult could easily climb.
Looking through the darkness with my mage sight I could see death energy from branches surrounding the climb up. Dead goblins. When Wilmette had first gotten here he must have had to climb that tree, the only path into the dungeon, while goblins pelted him with rocks, knives, arrows and their own turds.
Now I could see places in the tree were dead goblins lay in hidden nooks, ready to stick knives in an unsuspecting climber.
But the aura of death was everywhere. This part of the dungeon had already been cleared, and the dungeon was either incapable or unwilling to respawn the creatures that filled these trees.
By now Wilmette was lost in the canopy of trees. I slowly made my way to the tree he¡¯d climbed and started to scrambling up the branches behind him.
Chapter 17 - Dungeon Dive Part 1
There was a platform midway up the branches I was climbing. Except the word platform was a bit of an exaggeration, more it was a broad surface made out of tree branches.
There was blood and goblin guts spread everywhere and an unusually ape-like creature all green skin and bright fuchsia hair and a shiny fuschia butt like a psychedelic, psychotic baboon. My mind immediately wanted to scream hobgoblin, but that was just a guess.
Whatever the creature was, someone had taken wooden stakes and driven these sharpened wooden sticks through the creature¡¯s hands and feet before slowly peeling its skin off. Wilmette had been here.
The only way off the platform was up, back down, or a vine that conveniently hung midway between two trees but had one end draped across a branch within easy reach. I looked down. I was about 40 feet up, and beneath me was a massive thorn bush. If I swung on the vine, there were two choices of platforms about 25 yards away. I could see bodies littering both platforms, but I couldn¡¯t tell which way Wilmette had gone.
Taking hold of the vine, I backed up a little, gave myself some room to run and lept from the platform made of branches I was standing on, into the open air. Gravity took me almost immediately, the vine pulled taut, my brachiation carrying me down down down then back up up up and I almost missed the platform I was aiming at but I was able to stretch and somehow hooked my foot into a root and stopped myself from falling backward like a pendulum with its energy diminished.
I scrambled up onto the platform. The corpses were older here. Weeks old by my estimate. Some were months old. There were another two baboon-like creature staked out and vivisected.
From my admittedly limited studying, plus from the occasional novel back before I died, I was under the impression that Dungeons were supposed to remove, reduce and recycle their dead, converting bodies into the energies that allowed them to grow. That wasn''t happening here for some reason.
By now I was getting used to the smell of death, so I looked closer at some of the bodies. A lot of them had arrow wounds. Wilmette must have climbed up to the other platform and peppered the goblins over here with a spicing of wooden love. It made sense. Swinging like Tarzan onto a platform of angry monkey goblins might be suicide even for someone with Wilmette''s skills. Though it was also possible, he didn''t want to break a nail.
On the platform, I could climb up to another platform up above; I could swing to another platform a short distance away or crawl across a branch to a third platform a short hop away. I chose the easiest and climbed up.
I climbed the tree I was on another fifteen feet. There was a portal, more a glorified hole, that led up through the branch floor. The scene here was similar to the one below. Corpses lay everywhere and the smell of weeks old death wafted through the breeze.
The only ways off this level seemed like up or down, so I climbed up again. At the top level of the tree, I found a massive goblin that been crucified to the side of the tree. All around the tortured goblin were dozens of regularly sized goblins in various stages of decomposition. I''d gotten used to the carnage and ignored it.
I was now standing above the canopy of the forest. A few other massive and scattered trees broke the canopy, and in the distance, I could see lifeless goblins littered far and wide. The silence and the lack of scavengers was eerie.
Wilmette must have been coming here from almost the from almost the day after I''d found this place. Returning day after day; making his way through this mess. I had lost him. It would take me days to explore this entire labyrinth of trees. And using woodcraft to follow him was a pure waste of time. The standard "broken twig, footprint, game trail" logic wouldn''t work. Wilmette had been all through this warren of shit-chuckers. He had left ample evidence of his passage.
And even then an old part of my long-dead American heritage resurface. Was shit-chucker a speciesist slur? That thought made me uncomfortable for a fraction of a minute before I forgot about it.
Instead of looking for another path off the level I decided to use the fact that I could see for other similar tree crowned surfaces to go into stealth mode and watch for Wilmette from afar. If his path to wherever he was going took him up, and over the tree canopy I would see him and get a rough estimate of a direction to head.
I also needed to clean this damned level up. Wilmette had left a mess, but I didn''t want to stand for hours in the lingering smell of death surrounded by corpses. My first thought was to roll the bodies over the side, but that might get them lodged on a branch I needed to climb down. Which left, picking up the dead bodies and throwing them.
Fortunately, goblins are small. They are quick and agile, but they are tiny. I could make a game of it and aim for a particular hole in the forest canopy then score myself for how close lobbed each goblin.
The unexpected problem with my plan was that after I had thrown my third goblin into the hole, I heard an incredible amount of swearing in hillbilly Cretan. After that, a rain of arrows one after the other shot towards me glowed with a life finding rune. Luckily I was still using my stealth spell as the arrows honed in on the minuscule long gone life energy of the remaining goblins that lay around me. Otherwise there was no way I could have dodged.
I guess I had found Wilmette.
Since there was squat he could do to me since his arrows kept missing, I kept lobbing dead bodies down on his head. Eventually, an arrow with an enormous amount of mana, even to my mana sight flew up and directly at me.
I was midway through throwing another goblin, and that arrow looked dangerous, so as gravity drew the arrow on its parabolic rainbow descent of destruction, I linked with the goblin I''d just thrown and began to pump it full of mana, sending it tumbling back down towards Wilmette.
The arrow abruptly changed course and steaked towards the goblin as it fell towards Wilmette. When the arrow struck the goblin, an explosion shook the forest, and tiny shrapnel of goblin rained down onto the forest below. I don''t know how Wilmette had gotten that much mana into the spell he''d used on his arrow. One thing was for sure. If he had hit the platform I was standing on, it would now be toothpicks and I would be dead.
"Witch, fukr. Yu stop yus buggering pet gobbles to trys to bugger me? Get yus ass bak to Dugun start hole." Wilmette yelled up through the trees. He wanted me to go back to the start of the dungeon.
I was tempted to lob a couple more goblins in his direction on general principle but decided against it.
As I turned to climb back down the branches I''d come up, one of the burls in the side of the tree caught my eye for just a second. It seemed out of place. I went over to it and started fiddling with the knob of wood and sure enough pushing with enough pressure moved it, and I found a deep dark cavity, I reached in, and felt some fabric.
Pulling the fabric out, I saw that I had found a money purse. Inside of it were a dozen silver coins, a gold coin and a handful of copper coins.
Pushing the burl back into place, I hurried down the branches, to the platform I''d swung too. Down below the thorns were as sharp looking as ever. Taking better aim this time, I managed to fly through the air and only bash myself a little bit into the tree on the other side.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
After I was out of the dungeon, I found a large tree, on top of a hill where a cool breeze gently wafted away the smell of decomposing goblin, to wait for Wilmette. He hadn''t been that far ahead of me when he entered the dungeon nevertheless when he emerged it was almost midnight.
I got up from my resting spot and stumbled down to meet him. The look he gave me had an odd combination of anger and resignation, but he motioned for me to follow him.
Instead of heading back into the forest labyrinth we traveled about a mile away to yet another campsite he had set up. This must have been where he had been spending his time when I was back not at all being worried sick about the twisted bastard.
My mind took me back to long gone earth for a moment. I had to hold back a laugh at the momentary sudden mental image of some pampered spouse waiting at home for their partner who undoubtedly came home late from work or an affair or got stuck in traffic or from their bookie, and now had to listen to the requisite: "The dinner is cold, the children were worried, I was about to start calling the hospitals, don''t you love me?"
I realized that had Wilmette not shown up for a couple of weeks, I would have assumed he was dead. I would not have bothered to look for him and would have had a tough time caring. My most significant decision would involve trying to choose between whether or not to head south to one of the nations where the Twice Lived were treated with respect or to head back home and risk trying to survive and endure long enough to receive the effervescent and elusive promise of Status magic.
There was another leanto that Wilmette had set up that he went. Unfortunately, there was no place for me because the idea of crawling into his leanto with him was kind of repulsive.
The next morning, Wilmette was waiting by the fire cooking something that mixed berries with deer meat. There was a chill in the autumn air that had, through the night, made my body stiff and unwilling to start the day. I hadn''t even thought to bring a blanket and had finally settled on using some storm fallen foliage and dried leaves for warmth. Undoubtedly the tics had fed well.
I shuffled over to Wilmette, and he grunted and handed me the pot of foodlike substance.
When I had eaten, he got up, and I followed. We walked to the dungeon in silence. The first place we went was the same. He climbed up to the first platform and then waited for me to make like a monkey -- ahem goblin -- join him. Then he grabbed a vine, motioned swinging, and lept off the platform arcing gracefully over the thorns below and landing on the platform that I had not gone too the day earlier.
I followed with much less grace and said "Oof. Ow. Shit," when I landed.
Wilmette continued to ignore me. We climbed up another level, and he pointed to a large branch.
"Fukr. Luuk." Wilmette said. Then he straddled the wooden pathway and began shimmying forward with the massive tree between his legs. About ten feet out the tree limb split into two paths; he motioned for me to come out and join him.
When I had managed to propel myself down the bar to him, he reached up and grabbed a long stick that was growing from an adjacent branch and broke it free. He then used the twig to point to a few tiny holes on one of the two branches forward, probably from insects that I hadn''t noticed on my way over.
Then Wilmette pushed down with a minimal amount of pressure on the divided pathway that we were looking at and I watched with horror as the entire route cracked, crumbled into wood-chips and sawdust, and thousands of tiny termites rained down on the forest below.
"Trap," Wilmette said.
He lifted his leg and began shimmying down the remaining offshoot. I followed until we got to yet another platform. Then he climbed down the tree to the forest floor.
An epic battle must have been fought here because the ground was littered with goblin bodies. There were a few of the pink-hair pink-butt baboon beasties, and I walked over to one and pointed at it. "What?"
"Hobble Gobble" Wilmette said.
So I had been right, they were hobgoblins. "Gobble Gobble?" I said trying to make a joke.
He shook his head. "Hobble Gobble. Gobble Gobble soon." He turned and bent down and pushed a berry bush out of the way. Behind the shrub was a low tunnel underneath the thorns. Wilmette got down on all fours and crawled into the passageway.
I followed behind him. I of course was much smaller than he was and had no difficulty ducking under the overhanging foliage and prickly walls of sharp spikes. Wilmette on the other hand could barely fit, and often the branches and thorns tore at his skin and clothing leaving occasional wet patches of blood in places that I had to crawl.
We emerged into a small clearing on the other side. While Wilmette was healing the cuts on his body, I looked up and for the first time in while I could see the sun. There was a beautiful pond in the center of the clearing that was empty of dead goblins, and I wanted to refill my water rations.
There were also goblins on the ground in various states of decomposition, but there were also a few hanging in the branches as if they had been casually lobbed there by some asshole. Bits of exploded goblin lay spread across the ground.
Wilmette glared at me but said nothing. If it weren''t for all of the dead bodies, the meadow would look serene. Wilmette grabbed a goblin corpse and then walked over to the pond and threw the cadaver in.
Immediately the water began to thrash and boil. Tens of thousands of tiny fish, no bigger than minnows tore into the goblin, quickly devouring its despoiled flesh down to the bone.
Wilmette turned to me and said. "Pee in wata und th''ll swim up ya piss and gnaw ya pecker." If I were to go the bathroom in the water, the fish would swim up the stream of my urine and try to eat the flesh of my penis. Supposedly President Teddy Roosevelt had once discovered something similar in the Amazon river, so I didn''t doubt Wilmette. Instead, I backed away from the pond, and it''s flawed promise of rest and fresh spring water.
Three large trees possibly led out of the clearing. I saw lingering traces of carnage and long gone death on all of them. Wilmette had been exploring for months and must have gone down most of the routes.
He led me to another tree, this time with no branches that were easily accessible. Instead, he took off his leather shirt slung it around the tree trunk, grabbed hold of it on both sides and used the shirt like a lumberjack might use a chain or a rope as leverage to climb the tree.
I followed his example. It was a lot harder than using easily accessible branches, and I was somewhat surprised he hadn''t just nailed a makeshift ladder to the side of the tree if he came through here often enough.
But then Wilmette was a wilderness man through and through. Maybe climbing trees like this was just second nature and he didn''t think of it. There was a bowl in the tree where it made a Y shape. From there, there was a nice walkable tree branch that led to another platform a short distance off. When I was up top, Wilmette motioned that I stop, he then pointed to a burl about midway through the walkable branch and pulling out a rock made threw it at the knob of wood.
It hit, and from up above three hornets nests fell from the branches, exploding on what looked like the easy passageway and bringing with it thousands and thousands of oversized angry, stinging insects. Luckily we were far enough away that they didn''t come near us.
"Trap," Wilmette said.
Instead, Wilmette grabbed the side of the ''Y'' branch of the part of the tree trunk he was holding and swung to the other side and stepped down into the leaves. Hidden under the leaves was a yet another branch, much thinner, flimsier, and unseen than the more obvious path.
Wilmette slowly walked across this branch, balancing like he was on a tightrope. Down below the everpresent 30-foot fall and floor of deadly thorns bushes waited for even the smallest slip.
At long last when Wilmette was across, I too started to follow. One foot in front of the other. The branch must have only been about 3 inches across. It bounced and swayed under my weight and in the wind. Then I was across.
This tree was well branched making it much easier to climb. So up we went. Like everywhere there were signs of battle, and the goblin corpses were much fresher here. Days old instead of weeks old.
About midway up our climb, there was a section of the tree where Wilmette motioned for me to stop.
"Watch," Wilmette said.
Wilmette jumped off the branch he was standing on and grabbed hold of a tree limb slightly higher. The bough bent, and I heard an audible clicking noise. Suddenly it was as if the entire tree was moving and masses of branches swept through the area where Wilmette had been standing. The only reason he was still there was that he was dangling from the one safe place. Even I down below almost got knocked off the tree.
Masses and masses of branches swept by and then swept back up the woody leaves of death that we were climbing up which had bent out of shape somehow reformed and transformed back into shape and Wilmette found leverage and began climbing up the tree again.
"Trap," he said, like fucking no shit.
The dangling routine was every bit as hard as it looked. The branches came sweeping down from above whipping against the bark and the path upward like a pine tree stuck in a hurricane gale. Needles and branches brushed against my skin as I clung to the trap lever for my life. Then it was over, and I climbed up to join Wilmette on the platform above.
On the platform there were three dead hobgoblins and something that looked like a silverback gorilla, except it there was streaks of green in its silver and it had tusks jutting out of its mouth.
I pointed at it and said. "What dat."
He merely said "Gobble Gobble."
Chapter 18 - Wilmette Speaks
We swung from branch to branch under a green overhang of leaves. The drop beneath us was about 40 feet into thorns that reflected the light as if they somehow had grown steel down into their cellular structure. So we swung, arm over arm, Wilmette taking the lead, the whole of the 30 or so yards to the next resting spot.
The smell of fresh death was everywhere. Not only that, there was newfound evidence that Wilmette had recently been through this area. I could see arrows were in the bodies of the Gobble Gobbles that lay below us.
There weren¡¯t many Gobble Gobbles. Their numbers were dwarfed by the number of Goblins and Hobgoblins that whose mangled corpses lay strewn near and far. But the battle must have raged hard and recent.
At around two-thirds of the distance my arms began to burn, and the further I got the felt like they were going to tear themselves off. But I kept pushing. I kept keeping up with Wilmette.
Until I was at the other side, and I could no longer push myself anymore and I just dropped onto the platform and lay there panting. I must have pulled every muscle in my body.
Wilmette looked at me ¡°Stupid. Why you not heal?¡±
I was about to yell at him, but then I stopped. Why hadn¡¯t I just finished for a second and healed my muscles, before continuing to swing on? I concentrated quickly finding the runes for arms and muscles and then filling myself with soothing energy.
¡°I''m Stupid.¡± I agreed, getting up.
I could hear the grunting and chittering of goblins coming from further on. The smell of death was incredibly fresh here, and I pulled out my short sword.
Wilmette looked at me and seemed to think for a moment. A long moment.
¡°What¡± I said.
¡°What you know about gnacks.¡± He said finally.
¡°Snacks?¡± I said. ¡°Snacks yummy.¡±
He raised his fist as if he was going to strike me, then lowered his hand and visibly calmed down.
¡°Gnacks. Magical Gnacks. They are rare but you Witch. Being Witch is greater gnack.¡± He said.
¡°This is first I know that I witch. You tell it to me,¡± I said.
¡°Gnacks, is from here,¡± he tapped his heart, ¡°no here,¡± he tapped his head. ¡°When really young gnacks are made out of desire, out of Fear, out of need, out of wanting out of sex, out of hunger. All therse make gnacks. Thinking does not. Gnacksare powerful, primal, animal. Hidden. They come from soul.¡±
¡°I know runes.¡± I said.
¡°Gnacks not runes. Runes come after gnacks. Gnacks first magic. Powerful, primal, animal. I first learn about them frommy mother.¡±
¡°Ok,¡± I said, not seeing how this was relevant to the dungeon but interested nonetheless.
¡°Two ways to learn to use gnack. Stress. Anger. Fear. Sometimes Gnack willlash out. Part of training until now has been to try to release Gnack. Second way is easier but harder. You need to first overfill yourself with Mana. Hard too. Fill yourself with much mana, and BOOM!¡± He mimed an explosion. ¡°Too little mana and it is useless can do nothing. But it is also addictive. Want to keep filling too much. Nobody knows limit til use too much. At least not until Status discover. If you discover gnack, status sometime tells limit. It is useful.¡±
I looked at him. ¡°I don''t have Status."
¡°You have witch Gnack. You can pull mana out and you can push mana in. You can steal mana from others, store it, and give it away. At distances. Some witches range further some witches steal faster. Depends on power¡±
He paused for a very long time as if considering something. I waited patiently until he continued.
¡°Some Gnacks can link to other Gnacks.¡± Wilmette pointed to himself. ¡°I have Necromancer gnack. Pull Mana from pain, death, decay. Can also stop dungunfrom respawnonly leaving death.I also have small life gnack in heal and in body and a small nature gnack.¡±
¡°The difference between small gnack and big gnack is a small gnack cannot pull mana from it''saffinity a big gnackpull mana without thinking.¡±
¡°A mage with a big pyro gnack pulls from fire. A mage with a big aqua gnack gets mana from water. More fire, more water, more death, more life, results in more power. All depends on type of Gnack. Witch steal from life. You have big witch Gnack.¡±
¡°Need find if u heal and body gnack. Very possible. Heal most common Life gnack. Body most useful fighting. U useless in fight against body gnack without body gnack.¡±
What he was saying was that even with all this training, if I didn¡¯t have this body gnack thing it wouldn¡¯t matter how skilled I was, I would be useless in a fight.
¡°How we find if got small gnacks?¡± I said.
¡°Need to overfill mana, then test. We see gobbles, u hide, I fight. Use witch skills to suck mana into you. Start small. Too much mana and you go BOOM! And Elm''s gutsall over my pants and on grass and trees.¡±
¡°Remember also a Witch gnack is like a Necromancer gnack always keep a secret. Common people superstitious and scared. When I was young theydrive Wilmette out. Was sad. Not see family since. They will drive Elm out people find out. Not even powerful daddy help ifcommon people discover. Someone gets is Witch fault. Someone die. Witch fucker fault. Sheep or Crops die. Find then burn the Witch. Be careful stay secret.¡±
¡°I will stay secret. I will only let Wilmette know.¡± I said. ¡°And I will keep Wilmette secret too.¡±
¡°Now, go kill gobble fuckers. Stay in shadows. Steal life. Only ONE GOBBLE. Fill Mana. If no go BOOM, when done. Es-spear-a-mint. See what pussy Elm cun do.¡±
We climbed down the tree branches, and onto the ground. This part of the dungeon was underneath the layer of thorns that we had been traveling on top of all day. A wide processional path opened before us like one a bride would walk down at a wedding or an honoree would traverse to receive a reward. Up above the thorns, bushes were festooned with flowers, red, white, pink. There was a scent of leather, honeysuckle, and oudh.
I stepped into the shadows, not using the new stealth abilities I had worked out. Hopefully, there wouldn¡¯t be anything with mage sight, though I had my suspicions that the hobble gobbles, I mean hobgoblins, might be able to see me.
We walked past the bloody history of more battles, corpses getting fresher and fresher until the ground lay littered with yesterday¡¯s dead. We stopped just before a bend in the field of trees and thorns. I could not see what was around the corner.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
Wilmette turned to where I was hiding and said, ¡°Body Gnack,¡± suddenly his body seemed to ripple. His muscles seemed to swell, his and he burst forward into a kind of speed that I had never seen before.
I moved quickly after him, staying in the shadows as much as possible stepped around the bend. There I saw Wilmette fighting three gobble gobbles. He had his sword in one hand facing off against the gobble gobbles.
Wilmette¡¯s other hand seemed to be directing the very essence of nature around him. Every hobgoblin I saw was rooted in place, and even the gobble gobbles kept getting anchored, they just kept ripping the vines and grasses that attached to their legs off, with every step.
Shit, I needed to focus, I turned and looked up above. Goblins were hanging from tree branches and vines that ran through the thorn ceiling. They pelted Wilmette with their shit, which he ignored.
I chose a goblin closest to me. Like with the chipmunks and the goblin that I had fought months earlier, I extended a thin link between myself and the feces throwing demi-human. When I felt a connection, instead of sending mana to it, I began sucking it towards me. It was like I was sucking on a straw, raw power started coursing into me.
The goblin started to scream, and I started to pull mana from it harder. It started to panic and swinging too and fro on its vine. I opened my link up like a hose and sucked all of its life into me. Then it fell to the ground dead.
I knew that Wilmette had warned me about trying too much, but I felt alive like I never had before. I extended my hose size link to another goblin and sucked. This time the goblins fell dead much quicker. So much life coursing through me. It was glorious. I grabbed a third. Then a fourth. Then a fifth. Then a Sixth. There was no way that I could get myself full. I was at an all you can eat goblin buffet, and I¡¯d brought my appetite.
Then I felt a fist smash into me.
Wilmette was standing over me holding a struggling hobgoblin by the neck. I lost my stealth spell and the goblins up above screened and screeched and started to pelt me with their shit.
¡°ONE GOBBLE FUCKR. NO GO BOOM!¡° Wilmette yelled as he grabbed the hobgoblin¡¯s head with his other hand and ripped the head from the hobgoblin¡¯s body before lobbing the decapitated head like a missile at one of the goblin raining down shit from above.
¡°GO. WHEN I FINISH. I GET.¡±
Wilmette to three hobgoblins that were still fighting to get out of the grass. I looked around and saw that all the gobble gobbles had been eviscerated and were lying dead near where he was battling.
I sunk back into the shadows but stayed to watch. Wilmette nocked three of the hobgoblins over, and weeds, grasses, and vines pushed up through the dead leaves and stick to wrap themselves around the hobgoblins encasing them like a spider would a fly.
Wilmette had already turned towards the remain goblins up above. He pulled out his bow and began sniping them from the foliage above. Every arrow brought down a goblin. And when he was done, the glade where we had been fighting was silent.
Then Wilmette pulled out his knife and walked over to the struggling hobgoblins he¡¯d left encased in the plant life on the forest floor. I knew what came next, so I quietly turned my back and left.
Around the corner, I started a small fire and boiled some water for some dried plants and meat and made a meal for both of us.
Wilmette eventually showed up about a half an hour later. His musculature had gone back to normal, and he was moving in slow motion as any other normal human being would. He sat down by my fire and quickly gobble gobbled the food I¡¯d made.
When he was done, he let out an enormous belch and then stood.
¡°Test Heal,¡± Wilmette said. And without preamble, he whipped his sword out and stabbed me in the gut. Again.
I looked at him with shock. My hands went to my stomach.
¡°Heal.¡± He said.
Inside I had never stopped being aware of all the energy I¡¯d taken from the goblins coursing through my body. I felt it pushing at me, and I directed it at the gaping hole in my figure.
Instead of closing the wound my body started sprouted hair all over. Within seconds I was as hirsute as an Armenian mobster. Which sucked not only because I was still bleeding out all over the place, but also sucked because I still hadn¡¯t technically gone through puberty yet.
¡°Useless,¡± said Wilmette.
I kept trying, but I kept getting weaker and weaker. The hair turned a glittering gold color, then my skin turned bright green, then I managed to turn my skin back to the right color, and I rid of all the hair. Finally, not willing to try anymore, on the verge of passing out despite the constant barrage of awareness spells, I cast my standard heal spell on my gut.
¡°Useless,¡± repeated Wilmette. ¡°No heal.¡±
¡°Turn skin green.¡± I said, ¡°Make hairy.¡±
¡°Make gobble pretty to bugger gobble better.¡± He shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Heal gnack make no-kill possible. Hurt go bye-bye when happen.¡±
What Wilmette seemed to be saying was that the Healing gnack ¡ª which I didn¡¯t seem to have ¡ª was personal regeneration.
¡°Test body gnack,¡± he said. ¡°Think strong. Think fast. Think hard.¡± And he began to beat the shit out of me.
Punch after punch landed. I tried to dodge, but Wilmette seemed to be able to see where I was going to be when I avoided and his fist would be there. This was different than the variety of beating that my father would give me. Wilmette was far more controlled and far less passionate about the whole thing.
The more I tried to dodge, the more he hit me, and the life that was pulsing inside of me seemed to glow and pulse and want to be reached until something clicked. And for a second, I was moving faster than him, I was stronger than him, and couldn¡¯t feel his punches. Then the feeling of life was unreachable, but I was out of his grasp, so I moved in to punch him myself.
He rotated and started to wind up to hit me again, and this time his punch looked stronger. My strike landed, and it looked like he barely felt it, but his attack knocked me backward, and he moved on me fist upraised, and I dodged out of the way, and then I could feel the life again, and I grabbed it and I was stronger, faster, and tougher all over again, and this time I hit him full of life. And my blow knocked him back, and then the feeling was gone, and I was plain old me again.
He came at me again, and the best I could do was dodge and try to avoid his blows, which came one after the other. Until a short time passed and then I had access to that feeling again, and the life coursed through me and I wound up and Wilmette took the blow, and I quickly hit him again, before that incredible feeling left again. Which it did.
Wilmette held up his hand and shook his head. ¡°Useless,¡±
¡°What,¡± I said. ¡°Got body. Strong. Quick. Hard.¡±
¡°Only short. What. 1 Second. Then wait. Wait is forever in fight.¡± He thought about it for a second. Then his body seemed to glow, and muscles burst out all over. It was like I¡¯d seen him before in battle, the invulnerable tower of power.
¡°Try thing.¡± He said. ¡°Try only strong. Try use all mana left. Use up in punch to Wilmette. Punch Wilmette. Only used strong. Use all Mana in gnack.¡±
I could feel the life energy waiting for me to use, so I did exactly what he asked. I drunk deeply, taking all everything I had left and put it all into my muscles. I felt the power like I was an omnipotent titan, and I lashed out at Wilmette meaning to strike him down for all of the pain he had caused me over the past year of his training.
But in the fraction of a second that my fist traveled through the air, Wilmette, somehow sped back and forth away, once, twice, three times, out of reach of my fist, before finally sitting down in front of it, letting the impact take him in the shoulder. It wasn¡¯t just that Wilmette was fast, it was that my blow was slow. Regular human speed.
But the blow struck just before the feeling of life and power ran out of my body, and I was left with a sense of emptiness that I had always known but never been able to remark upon because it had always been with me before today.
Two things happened.
Despite hitting Wilmette only in the shoulder, his entire body when flying backward about 20 feet and would have gone back further still if he hadn¡¯t gotten lodged in the thorns and branches that bordered the walls of the dungeon.
The second thing was that every bone in my fist shattered. When I say shattered I mean, dust and debris. The skin on my hand was pulped. My Radius and Ulna bones were fractured who knows how many times and my Humerus bone had pierced the skin out of the back of my shoulder and was hanging out behind me.
I screamed in pain and almost blacked out. I screamed in pain again, and would have blacked out except I somehow managed to cast the awareness spell, which kept me awake but experiencing more profound hurt than I had ever felt in my life.
Slowly I built up the runes to heal my fix the bones in my hand. By then Wilmette was out of the wall of thorns and was watching me. Slowly I built up the runes to push my Humerus back into place. Gradually the skin reformed. I was almost out of mana, but slowly I managed to get my Radius and Ulna roughly patched up.
It wasn¡¯t perfect. It still hurt. Any sudden movement and everything would break again. But I was out of mana, and it was the best I could do for now.
Wilmette nodded.
¡°Not useless. Not good. Wilmette body gnack always same. Move fast. Be Strong. Be Hard. Not too hard. Not too soft. Not too Strong, Not too Weak. Not too Fast. Not too Slow. Elm body gnack choice. Fast as want to be. Strong as want to be. Hard as want to be. Only limit Mana and Time. 1 second only. Then wait. Then 1 second. Not useless. Not good. Not bad. Good for surprise. Good for bait.¡±
Then he thought about it. And repeated the world ¡°Bait.¡±
Chapter 19 - Dungeon Dive Part 2
We moved back into the dungeon. Wilmette didn¡¯t give me any direction this time, so I sunk into the shadows again and as soon as he started to fight I drained the first four goblins I saw. I moved with as much quiet as I was capable behind a hobgoblin.
Using about half of my the Mana I had stolen from the goblins, I amped up my strength, my toughness, and my speed and in the second I had to use it, sent my dagger down into the hobgoblin¡¯s spine. It fell, spine severed, not even able to twitch on the floor as its nervous system was separated from its brain.
The other demi-humans around it were already turning towards it, but I was already going back into stealth. In that instant, I discovered I couldn¡¯t kill something and keep my stealth runes working. The gnack overwhelmed everything. I probably wouldn¡¯t even be able to use a healing spell while using my body gnack. For a moment I envied Wilmette his healing gnack. It was handy. But there was no point in crying over what could not be.
Nothing here could see life, so I drained another four goblins, and I guesstimated that I was now holding the life energy of six of the little fucks. It was time to try something more significant.
I crept behind one of the gobble gobbles. It was pounding the ground with its massive fists, and every time it did, the ground shook like a localized earthquake. I had to move as carefully, as I did silently, keeping to the shadows.
Then I saw my chance. The giant gorilla goblin, lifted it fists to pound the earth again, and I activated everything, speed, strength, stamina. I used all of it, all the stored mana. In that one second, it was as if time was trying to wade through shoulder-high water. Every microsecond forward seemed to stretch on forever. And I could dart through times murky water like a minnow on steroids. My sword took the gobble-gobble in the spine just like it had the hobble gobble, but instead of just taking out the spinal cord, it dug right through the monster and came out the other side and the blade buried itself in the dirt. My arm was wrist deep in the gobble-gobble¡¯s back.
The second ended, the gobble-gobble¡¯s fist began it¡¯s decent to the ground, to pound the earth again. Then somehow it saw, before it felt, my sword coming out of its gut, my arm deep into it¡¯s back, it tried to turn, attempted to look at me. Then it fell to the ground.
Then I discovered the drawback of using that much power. Not only did the gobble-gobble fall forward onto my sword, burying it with its weight, but the blade itself had dug itself into the rocky ground from the strength of my strike.
I hid in the shadows again and began to steal the life from goblins. Building up, this time not to kill, but merely to flip the damned gobble-gobble over and retrieve my weapon. I managed to drain two more before running out of goblins then there were none. So I looked around for something more to kill. Wilmette was lashing the last hobgoblins to the ground for his own mana needs, all the gobble gobbles were dead, and as far as I could tell all the goblins were killed. The fight was effectively over.
Using some of the strength and fortitude I¡¯d stolen I flipped the gobble-gobble up, only to discover that my sword had broken. I sighed and started to gather stone knives. Better than nothing.
After resting for a little bit, we moved to the next room. The same pattern repeated itself except I made use of the stone blades and my leftover knife. I had to make sure not to put too much force into my hits. I didn¡¯t care if I broke any of the goblin¡¯s weapons that I found laying around, but I wanted to make sure that my steel dagger lasted.
There must somewhere a set of runes that made weapons more durable. I was surprised that the sword and knife I was using didn¡¯t already have those spells. Or maybe I was putting much more force into my thrusts than I even knew.
We made our way through the undergrowth, killing as we moved. The two of us developed an unspoken pattern so that we stayed out of each other¡¯s way as we fought. Eventually, everything was dead, and we stood in front of a large stone door.
The stone entrance was the first thing that I had seen in this dungeon that was made out of anything other than wood. It rose from the forest floor as if it had been grown from the very elements. Inlaid in into the stone in high relief was a depiction of a vast battle between humans, monkeys and ape creatures. Looking closer, faintly etched in bas-relief I saw, to my horror, an arm holding a torch buried in the sand.
¡°We finally really did it,¡± I said in Magrithiam, ¡°You blew it up. Damn, dirty Goblins.¡± Could the dungeon core be a two lived?
Wilmette looked at me oddly but said nothing.
¡°So how do you want to do this,¡± I said.
¡°Expect big boss fight,¡± Said Wilmette. ¡°First we barricade door. Use dead gobble and gobble-gobble bodies. Pile up high in front of door. I hide.
¡°You open door, then you sneak to top of pile of gobble bodies. Try to bring back to me.
¡°Lead stupid ones out of room. Move back. Fall back to me. Let them come out. Let them come, one by one, to us. Crawl over mound.¡±
I nodded. It was a simple plan. I was small and vulnerable looking. The doors were a choke point. A pile of corpses was hard to climb over. If the goblins saw Wilmette, they might wait to come in. Or not. Just me they might charge. I wasn¡¯t the same kind of killing machine as Wilmette was.
We got to work piling up fresh corpses against the door. Luckily the doors opened inward or else this stupid idea wouldn¡¯t have functioned. We also made our heap higher than we wanted it to be and also increase the hight on the left and right sides of the door.
When we were ready Wilmette focusing and using his nature gnack; he commanded hidden alcoves to open up in the trees and thorns that grew above the door. I grabbed hold of an overhanging branch, while he backed away from the massive pyramid of the dead and drew his bow.
Wilmette¡¯s body took on the glow that I now associate with his gnack working. I guess it was now or never.
With one hand holding tight to the branch that in the alcove on the roof, I pulled up on the rope we had tied to the leaver on the majestic handle that functioned as a door nob. The weight of the bodies pressing against the door pushed the door open, and as soon as I knew the door was opening, I dropped the rope grabbed the branch above with my remaining hand and pulled myself up into the alcove.
The avalanche started slowly. But then, as the doors open wider and wider, dead goblins began to pour into the room. We had piled them higher on the sides, and so this was where the majority of the bodies which flooded into the boss room.
I spared a look into the room.
It was like a forest throne room. Something out of Peter Jackson¡¯s Lord of the Rings. The council of Elrond. Except it was full of monkeys. They walked along paths against the the walls, swung from the ceiling, there were a dozen gobble gobbles crowding the floor engaging in monkey business. It was an all you can eat monkey buffet. And behind it all, in the midst of standing was a 20 foot tall orangoutang sitting on a throne of human skulls; the throne was gilt in gold and wreathed in what looked like Juniper and Silphium.
It took a while before the last body had tumbled into the room. All the simian faces were looking in my direction in shock. Now was my turn.
Swinging down from the alcove where I was hid I tried to make myself as visible as possible. Within seconds a garage of shit was being thrown at me.
I started to dance like a monkey ¡°ooh ooh ooh eee eee eee aah aah aah¡± I said while jumping from one leg to the other and making fart sounds with my arm pits. I don¡¯t know if they understood the insult, but when I looked down below, I could see the rage in their collective eyes. All the while I am using my Witches¡¯ knack to drain the nearest hobgoblin I could see.
Then I turned to run, set to dash back to where Wilmette was standing with his bow knocked. Where my bow and arrows were ready for me. I turned, and in that moment, the single most ridiculous, improbable, cliched stupid thing imaginable thing happened to me.
I slipped on a banana peel.
I mean it wasn¡¯t a real banana peel. More a metaphorical banana. Maybe it was a bloody arm. Or a smearing of brain. But here I was slipping, and I was surrounded by things that looked a lot like monkeys, so for all intents and purposes, it might as well have been a banana peel.
One minute I was turning to dash away, the next my legs are slipping out from under me, and I am falling down the pile of dead bodies and into the room with all of the monsters.
And all the while I am falling I am panicking thinking that I am going to die surrounded by goblins in a pile of goblins. End over end, bodies mixing with bodies. Buried into bodies, hidden among the dead bodies.
Seconds pass.
More seconds pass. I am still alive.
I lift my head up. The world is different. I see less color that I did before. It is like I can¡¯t see the full spectrum anymore. Variations of green are so intense I wonder how I missed all the detail. Blue is gone altogether. Red is angry and I seem to be able to see the heat coming off warm things like some of the more recent bodies and the goblins that are rushing up the pile of bodies, some of them stepping around me, as I move to get back on my feet.
I look down at myself. I¡¯m no longer Elm. Instead, I am some nameless Hobgoblin. I snarl for effect. Yup, that¡¯s me.
Right now the last place I want to be is near Wilmette. I don¡¯t even want him to see me until I can figure out how to de hobgobblify myself. And before I figure out how to un hobgoblify myself, I need to figure out why I became a hobgoblin.
I hope this isn¡¯t perfect. My old body wasn¡¯t the greatest, but it was mine. Forget it not being easy, I didn¡¯t like being green.
While I was pulling myself together a goblin looked at me oddly, I screeched and jumped up and down and shook my fists and beat my chest and the goblin looked away. Slowly I made my way to the edge of the ravaging simian horde. Casually as I could make myself I tried to push to the edge of the boss room.
By the thorn forest wall¡¯s edge I was glad to discover I could still cast magic and within seconds I had sunk shadows invisible to everything except something with mage sight. I knew the hobgoblins didn¡¯t have it, I knew the gobble gobbles didn¡¯t have it. But I worried about that damned orangoutang. It was massive.
But it was time to start slitting some throats. They all had knives and wanted to kill me, and I had a stone knife and tried to kill them, so the way I saw it was monkey see, monkey do.
Keeping my eye what must have been the boss creature, I pulled out my grabbed a stone knife firmly in my hand and made my way quietly to a nearby hobgoblin. Using some of the mana I pulled in, I amped myself up and in the one second I had, drove my stone blade into the goblin¡¯s carotid artery. Arterial blood sprayed in an arc about three feet in a diameter around where I had been standing, but with the last of my speed I was already moving on.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Nearby stood a gobble-gobble. I waited the five or six seconds it took for my gnack to refresh and then again, a quick dagger took the most vulnerable gobble-gobbles in the most vulnerable parts of their bodies I could reach. This time it was the jugular vein as it made its move to climb the pile of bodies.
In this way, I killed six more of the damned things and drained another four hobgoblins and a goblin. Freud would probably have had a field day with my running around looking almost exactly like the creatures I savaged and slashed.
Then I was noticed.
The orangoutang launched herself off her throne. I was deep in the shadows, but it was clear she could see me. She must have mage sight and this was going to suck balls.
Vines started to wrap around my body, and swarms of bees and wasps flew out of the foliage directly at me. I focused every bit of mana I had on fortifying my body, and like The Flash the world slowed down to a crawl around my as I shot across the throne room. Just as the 1-second mark hit I ended my run in the biggest group of hobgoblins I could find.
We meandered around and began climbing the pile of dead goblin bodies. Mysteriously six goblins screamed and dropped over ended as we hobble gobbles growled and climbed.
Then I shot off the pile of bodies, again burning every drop of mana I had stolen. My stone knife cutting through the necks, effortlessly decapitating three hobgoblins as I passed them on my way to the monstrous orangoutang.
It took me a tenth of a second to cross the 50 feet to the boss monster, and my knife cut deeply into her side. Then I turned and flung myself onto a pile of the dead, just one more corpse among the many.
Six seconds later and six more drained goblins and I was moving again. But this time I saw a glow around the orangoutang like the glow I¡¯d seen around Wilmette so many times. As I approached dagger in my hand, the massive ape moved too. Nowhere as fast as I was running, but it the speed she was travelling wasn¡¯t insignificant. Suzuki Hayabusa verses Harley Davidson Softail speeds.
Every ounce of strength went into slice I took. I went low and cut the giant orangoutang¡¯s Achilles tendon, and she fell, smashing in slow motion into the ground. And even though she couldn¡¯t catch me, couldn¡¯t keep up with me, when I was going at full speed, she kept her eye on my every move.
Then my 1-second window of super speed and strength and endurance was done. The orangoutang finished her tumbling smashing decent into the ground. The ground shook when she hit. But as I watched her leg began to heal up, and my body wrapped in vines, layers, and layers of cocoon.
I had stopped pulling mana from goblins and was trying over and over again to create a link to the boundless mana of the orangoutang. But the monstrous boss must have had more of a will than anything that I had encountered so far because my link kept slipping away.
Goblins were showering, and feces down onto the place where I lay and I was being pummeled from a barrage of debris from the vines above. I heard the buzz of bees, wasps, hornets coming closer and the thump thump thump of a massive, monstrous orange orangoutang dragging its knuckles along the ground as it made its way towards me.
Fuck.
I lashed out with my Witches sense, tying once again to drain from the boss, but failed once again. I grabbed the mana from a goblin but even though I could connect with one there was no way I could drain enough of them before big momma monkey would be here.
But I tried, and managed to drain a second.
The shaking grew closer.
Mana and power were coursing through me; I could feel the overflow in my veins and all of my body. In desperation, I forced all my mana down into the last spell that I had learned before I had run off to follow Wilmette. In desperation, I slammed every bit of my overflowing mana into the arcane magic that I had created to hide all of my life energy.
In that moment I felt something click and then it was like everything shifted and I moved into a kind of negative space in the world. Everything was shadow and light. Black and white. And I seemed to be drawing the shadows, the darkness into me. Every shadow that came into my body and my body surged with mana.
And I was free here.
I moved from where my body lay and as my body got fuller and fuller with mana I walked across the dungeon floor, and then as a feeling of being bloated came upon me, and I felt like I could hold no more, I somehow managed to figure out how to force myself out of the darkness. It was just a matter of stepping into the light.
In the normal world, I shot like a lightning bolt. One second, more full with mana than I had ever been before. I don¡¯t know how many goblins'' worth. It was like I had just gorged myself on a twelve-course mana meal. One second and nothing but a half broken steal dagger and a stone dagger.
So I increased my strength in my body and also the durability in my arm far away and above the speed in my legs and sent myself barreling like a bullet both knives outstretched with less finesse than merely trying to use my arms as spears to ram the beast.
And I succeeded. I hit. Hard. Like twin ballistic missiles, the knives went in, and my arms sunk in up to my shoulders. I got a face full of Orangoutang fur. Monkey fur stunk. I¡¯d yanked my arms out, leaving my knives embedded in the bones they got jammed into. A fraction more of a second when my second wore off I had backed away from the boss monster.
When I slowed down, I tried to find a way to get back into the darkness, and when I couldn¡¯t see one, all I could do was hide myself in the spell that his my life mana from mage sight.
Instead, I sent a link out to a goblin up above and drained it, then when I had linked to another, I felt the world shift around me and once again I found myself in the strange world of darkness and shadow.
When I stepped out the orangoutang was pushing herself up off the ground, the gaping impact wounds that I had stabbed into her side were extraordinarily bloody but healing.
I knew I had to end this quickly. With her ability to regenerate this could go on forever and sooner or later she would get a shot in. Unlike her, I couldn¡¯t take more than one shot from those powerful arms. I was a glass cannon in the very worst sense of the word.
So with this burst of speed, I did the same. Lots of velocity, but even more strength and a massive amount on making my arms rock hard. Stone daggers held straight out; I ran full bore right at that damned monkey¡¯s face.
My right stone dagger entered the orangoutang¡¯s left eyeball, and my left-handed dagger went crashing through the soft ocular tissue of the simian¡¯s right eye. Both eyeballs popped like grapes, and momentum propelled me and my blades into the orangoutang¡¯s frontal cortex, and through and through and on into its occipital lobe.
The giant ape began to twitch, and it fell to the ground. I pulled my arms out of its skull wiping cortical fluid and grey matter on my pant legs than before it could somehow regrow its brain, I began sucking the life out of the few remaining goblins that were still pelting me with filth.
When I had enough Mana stored up, I grabbed my last stone knife and putting all my mana into strength and stamina I cut off the boss¡¯ enormous fuzzy orange head.
Then turning to the left over goblins in the I defended upon them like a discrete shadow born periodical reaper. Six seconds of reprieve followed by one second of intense death.
And then, at least in the room, I was moving in, they were all dead. And I stood in the shape of a hobgoblin covered in splattered gore. There was the sound of fighting still coming from the other side of the massive pile of corpses, and I needed to figure out a way to get out of this shape before Wilmette crested the heap and decided I was the last left over living being to kill.
Instead of trying to track down the dungeon¡¯s core, I sat down in the orangoutang¡¯s throne and began to think. What was the feeling I had when I had changed shape.
¡ Well, I had been falling in a pile of bodies. I had also been in the process of linking to and draining a hobgoblin. And lastly, I was full to the brim of mana.
The sounds of fighting stopped on the other side of the heap of semi-human bodies. I had emptied myself of the overflow of mana numerous times as I¡¯d fought. The battle had been quick. In long intervals, but quick overall. But even so, I had drained an recharged myself nearly a dozen times. A lack or a fullness of mana had nothing to do with the shape change.
Nor did draining a goblin. I had drained goblins, gobble-gobbles, hobgoblins in this fight. The only thing that I had unsuccessfully been able to pull mana from had been the boss orangoutang. If stealing mana from a creature caused the change then, I would have shape changed multiple times.
I could hear Wilmette start to swear. I didn¡¯t know if that meant he was draining hobgoblins he¡¯d captured or if he was now climbing the pile of bodies. Either way, I needed to hurry. I didn¡¯t want to be his next lunch snack. Though, a part of me kept telling me that I might be able to take him.
Concentrating on changing my arm from green to pink and pushing some of my overflow of mana into my body, I tried to relax simultaneously, think of me as me, and think of not being a goblin.
And it worked, something inside of me clicked. It not a mental or audible click, rather it was the familiar kind of falling into place that I had experience when I had stepped into shadow. I found myself in my own body. The only exception was that I had a bright-bright pink arm.
Better than nothing. Though idly in my head the thought passed that my arm would be way cooler if it were a giant lobster claw. Getting that though out, and only focusing on being entirely me again, and then projecting the overflow that was still pulsing in me into my bright pink arm I pushed back, and I was solely the way I should be. From the tips of my tippy toes to the follicles of my hairs.
Breathing a sigh of relief I leaned back into the throne of human skulls and signed in relief.
The throne itself was a bit gristly. I mean keeping in mind that it was made for a 20-foot tall knuckle dragging subhuman. And I wasn¡¯t talking about Wilmette since at worst he was only a 5¡¯10 knuckle dragging subhuman. Or at least that is what he spoke.
The bones in the top of the chair had been worn down and polished by generations of orange monkey butt rubbing wiggling her ass across the seat. It was comfortable. If I could ignore the arm rests, well out of reach, were constructed out of human tibias and gilded with gold leaf. Weaving through the entirety of the chair was a motif of ivy, rendered in aged green copper, green gold, and emeralds. This Ivy wound in and out of the bones, through eye sockets, and twisted around femurs.
Leaning back, I surveyed the throne room. If I were an evil twice lived Dungeon Core, where would I hide.
There didn¡¯t seem to be any other rooms attached to this one. No alcoves, no vestibules. There was a majestic processional walkway that led from the great doors to the throne, some sort of hard black stone, that rose out of the forest floor. Not onyx, but similar. And a small tinkling waterfall formed a pond over to the left. There were flowers everywhere. But no massive mysterious glowing gemstones.
After a while Wilmette¡¯s head appeared over the pile of corpses. He looked at me in shock. I waved back. He looked around the room. He paid special attention to the dead boss monster. He looked at me again. I shrugged then waved again.
Scrambling and muttering about fuckers Wilmette made he over the hill of bodies and towards me.
¡°How.¡± He demanded.
I shrugged. ¡°Lucky,¡± I said. ¡°Boss, trip over her own feet. Stab herself in eye. After that, you just good teacher.¡±
He looked like he was going to argue. He looked like he doubted me.
Changing subject I said, ¡°Where is dungeon core?¡±
He motioned that I get up off the throne. I was reluctant, somehow being king, even of rather small and pathetic dungeon seemed to fit my ego. But eventually, I stood up.
The glow of power surrounded Wilmette, and he bent with his knees, found a leverage point under the dungeon and lifted. The throne of bones rose, silently and smoothly, revealing a hidden set of stairs going down, underneath.
Pulling out a torch from the pack he was carrying, he lit it, and then Wilmette took the lead, and we descended into the darkness.
The room we entered was small. The size of a studio apartment in most metropolitan cities back on earth. A few hundred feet at most. In the center was an alter with a glowing sphere on it. Unlike what I had imagined, the dungeon core was not a gemstone.
The stone carried an aura of power, and when I looked at it with my mage sight, it seemed to radiate magic so intensely that it almost overwhelmed me.
Wilmette walked up to it and without a second thought, lifted it from the pedestal, wrapped the core in a cloth ¡ª a spare shirt that smelt of body odor and was covered in food stains ¡ª and placed it in his back pack.
He then turned to me and said. ¡°Elm want to see something funny?¡±
¡°Sure,¡± I said.
He walked over to a part of the wall that was exactly like every other part of the wall, except when I looked at it with mage sight and saw that it looked just a shade lighter.
Wilmette kicked that wall section and yelled: ¡°Come out ya fuckrs¡± then backed up.
A door opened. A gnome stuck his head out. ¡°According to section 11013 of the treaty, we are immune.¡±
¡°Fuck off,¡± Wilmette said.
¡°Is there any way we can barter?¡± the gnome leader said again.
¡°Fuck off again,¡± Wilmette replied.
¡°Can we at least make it honorable?¡± The gnome said.
¡°Yup.¡±
The gnome sighed. The door closed and stayed closed for a few minutes. Then the door opened again. He called back behind him. ¡°Company form up.¡± Then ¡°Company march.¡±
Ten gnomes in full uniforms of the Roman legion marched out from the door that opened in the side of the wall. The gnome who had been talking, and then in perfect military parade formation, three rows of three bearded one and a half foot tall gnomes followed him. Even the three women gnomes had beards. Tiny little women with bright cerulean beards and hair. Some of them square shields with an emblem of a coin and an acorn emblazoned upon it.
When the leader had led them away from the door in the dungeon wall, he turned to Wilmette and said, ¡°I¡¯ve taken your mana signature and lodged a complaint.¡±
Wilmette shrugged.
The lead gnome sighed again. He turned his back to Wilmette and as if yelling an order, shouted ¡°Company, Present Arms!¡±
The little platoon of gnomes, pulled out their tiny metal swords and held them aloft to the sky in perfect unison. ¡°Company,¡± he yelled again. ¡°Gnome Rule!¡± ¡°GNOMES RULE!¡± Yelled the company of gnomes in unison. Then as one they turned their swords around, gripped the handle with both gnomish hands, and in tandem their blades drove down, down, down, as every gnome stabbed themselves trough the heart.
Wilmette giggled.
¡°What the hell!¡± I yelled.
Wilmette was laughing outright. ¡°Stupid Gnomes!¡±
¡°You knew that would happen!¡±
¡±Of course. We done now. I look around some more. Elm find his own way out of dungun.¡± It was not a request. Wilmette obviously wanted some alone time.
Chapter 20 - The Ballad of Cart-San
I took my time getting back to where we had set up camp. Who knew when the next time I would have access to a dungeon would be. And since this one effectively had its balls cut off, I figured that I might as well take some time to explore.
I didn¡¯t find much. A lot of death. A couple of handfuls of assorted coins. The trick (I think) for finding hidden loot and even some traps. Magic sight didn¡¯t help much ¡ª except when it did ¡ª but in my wanderings, I was moving so slowly and cautiously that eventually, I began to see things that stood out.
A protruding branch that felt off. A gnarled knob of wood. A dense thicket of thorns. A berry bush.
Another thing I found were singular plants grown in of the way locations. These I took a lot of trouble to harvest carefully. In every case digging around them to carry even the root system if I could. I didn¡¯t know what they were, but I had read too many stories about rare herbs and expensive reagents found inside dungeons to leave even stuff that I had no clue what possible benefit it could have behind.
I did resolve to read a book on herbology one of these days. Maybe even find an alchemist. This was a world of magic, so there had to be something more to it than just some new age mumbo-jumbo of homeopathic medicine. Wilmette had shown me how to find and prepare a lot of the more common medicinal herbs I could see in the everyday world, but his dungeon diving flora schooling left something to be desired.
Eventually, I made my way out of the twisted labyrinth of thorns and trees. My first stop was the place that I had stayed the night before, but when I got there, it showed clear signs of having been abandoned. Sign one, Wilmette¡¯s leanto had been torn down.
It was getting dark, but I decided to make the walk back to the main bivouac. I spent my time trying to figure out a way to use the healing runes that Wilmette had taught me to come up with some sort of an anti-bacteria and anti-viral spell.
The problem there was that the concept of germs wasn¡¯t one that runes dealt with. In the end, I was forced to use an ad-hoc life arrangement for small life and then modify it with very-very-very-very-very-very-very-very-very small which wasn¡¯t pretty. I cast the spell with between 10 and 60 very¡¯s hoping for the best, and ran it over my skin and even modified it to my respiratory system.
Hopefully, I hadn¡¯t swallowed any bits of corpses or blood while I fought because I wasn¡¯t sure how to kill off the bugs that weren¡¯t supposed to be there and the ones that were.
As I walked, I thought there had to be a way to make a runic snap shot of myself in perfect health to use as a reference point for healing. Failing that maybe I could make my immune system work harder. Something to do with white blood cells, I guess. I hadn¡¯t been a biology student by any means, and if the guesswork in tracking down germs was hard, I could only imagine how hard it would be to figure out the runic equivalent of bloodwork.
Then I considered that there was just so much lost by this idiotic campaign to hunt down twice lived. A powerful runic mage who had once been a surgeon or a medical researcher was only one thing that could make this world so much a better place to live.
Eventually, I found my way back to the location where we had set up our base camp. Unsurprisingly I saw that Mr. Bigglesworth had been staked out and tortured, and lay dead on the ground. I wasn¡¯t sure how I felt about that. I will admit that I¡¯d come to like the filthy little guy. On the other hand, I had been putting off thinking about what to do with him. I couldn¡¯t exactly keep him and take him back into civilization with me. And the idea of releasing a goblin back out into the forest maybe to find other goblins to breed and eventually terrorize the locals didn¡¯t appeal to me either.
Snores were coming from Wilmette¡¯s lento as I crawled into my own. Oh well, this was nearly over. I was sick of the forest. Never thought I would say that, but it was true. I imagined a cozy inn, good food, companionship. Of course, we were probably bound to go straight back to see my father. Suddenly the forest seemed a lot nicer again.
I woke up in the morning with the dawn and crawled out of the mass of propped up to trees and fallen branches that I had called home for the last little while.
Wilmette was sitting by the fire and there was food already cooked. He had a pack beside him.
¡°Half hour we leave.¡±
I ate quickly and then gathered up my few belongings. Ignoring the mashed deer brain and urine I¡¯d been using as a tanning agent, I mostly had stacks and stacks of dear leather. Too much really to carry. I sighed and then bundled about twenty of the best pieces and grabbed some of the woodland herbs I had been drying and put them in my pack.
I turned my back and left the camp site. Wilmette was waiting. Carrying a several much bigger bundles. He was glowing with mana, and for second, I was jealous of his ability to keep his strength and fortitude going over long periods of time.
Then I realize that he if he was burning mana like this he might need to recharge, in which case, I was the only one around. Which worried me, and I decided to keep a careful watch. It probably wouldn¡¯t be necessary, but just in case.
Seven days later we emerged from the forest into fields where simple rolling farmland touched the edge of the woodland. Simple crops of some sort of tuber and corn were growing in the fields.
Soon we came across a dirt road that led away from the fields, and eventually, as we walked tiny farmhouses that had been built up out of sod, dirt, and dug into the ground began to appear. At one, rustic white chickens clucked and strutted around yards and between the trees eating grubs and other parasites. A wooden wheelbarrow that had been painted red was propped up against a barn, drying out in the sun. So much depends¡
As we followed the road, the houses began to take on a more permanent nature. Sod and dirt gave way to wood. Eventually wood gave way to stone buildings in the tiny village that we eventually entered.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Wilmette made his way to the local merchant and dropped all of the deer skins he¡¯d been carrying onto the counter. ¡°20 silver,¡± he said.
The merchant looked through them carefully, examining the quality, eventually saying ¡°one gold five silver.¡±
They argued for a while and eventually settled on one gold fifteen silver and a handful of copper. Wilmette turned to me. ¡°I be in Inn. Need whiskey.¡± And he left.
I put my skins down. A precedent had been set with Wilmette and the haggling went a lot easier. Eventually, we settled on 30 silver and 3 copper. Then I asked to see if the Merchant had any fresh, clean clothing. Wool. Not buckskin. Since after so much fighting, the stuff I was wearing was in a terrible state of disrepair.
He showed me what he had. Common everyday clothes. Nothing special. Comfortable and durable. I bought two sets and just like that the money I¡¯d gotten from the deerskins was spent.
Then I asked directions from the merchant to the Inn. It was an incredibly small village. They hadn¡¯t even decided on a name yet. And so the Inn wasn¡¯t that hard to find as it was simply three more buildings down.
I entered the inn and found Wilmette at a table doing exactly what he had said he would be doing. He had a bottle of alcohol in front of him and was sitting at a table in the corner watching the room.
Finding the Innkeeper was easy. He was thin and filled with almost spastic energy. I paid for a room with some of the money I¡¯d found in the dungeon. Then bought a beer. I doubted the water in a place like this would be sanitary.
Then I sat down beside Wilmette.
¡°Villiage got no whores,¡± he said and spat.
¡°Sorry,¡± I said.
¡°You spend time in forest buggering pet gobble. But real man got needs,¡± he said.
¡°I¡¯m sure the next town will be better.¡±
Wilmette sighed and poured himself a drink from his bottle and tossed it back in one smooth gulp.
The inn started to fill as farmers finished up with their fields and came in to socialize and mingle with their friends. An older man with a banjo began to play music and occasionally singing simple folk songs.
It was popular entertainment, and people started to sing along. Pounding their feet and clapping their hands to the beat.
Then one song caught my attention.
The Ballad of Cart-San
¡°Now deaths a fickle bitch.¡±
I heard a twice lived say
¡°I¡¯s soul¡¯d my soul, ta be alive,
my doom¡¯s deferred today.¡±
Cart-San, Wagon-San,
Speed¡¯n down the lane.
Cart-San, Wagon-San,
Send em on their way.
The Twice Lived was a-creep¡¯n
Like Twice Lived¡¯s are known ta do
A-slink¡¯n and a-conniv¡¯n,
Little know¡¯n their time wuz due.
Cart-San, Wagon-San,
Speed¡¯n down the lane.
Cart-San, Wagon-San,
Send em on their way.
Inquisitors can get em all,
and string up by their balls,
those that¡¯s left, Cart-San gets,
to mash em where they falls.
Cart-San, Wagon-San,
Speed¡¯n down the lane.
Cart-San, Wagon-San,
Send em on their way.
Now Cart-san ain¡¯t got no Driver,
Nor no merchant at the steer
Cart-San just got a cargo
Of fate ta deliver near.
Cart-San, Wagon-San,
Speed¡¯n down the lane.
Cart-San, Wagon-San,
Send em on their way.
So if you are a Twice Lived
This I warn your ear,
If you see Cart-San, then
Let your third life take you
Some where far from here.
Let your third life take you
Some where far from here.
It seemed to be a popular song because there was more than one call to hear it sung, and just before I went upstairs to my room someone had pulled out a fiddle to accompany the banjo and people were doing jigs and couples were kissing in the corners while the jolly aires of The Ballad of Cart-San played on.
Ah¡ simple rural folk. Salt of the earth, and all that.
I was up early the next morning and the inn keeper¡¯s daughter served me a simple breakfast of oat meal and fresh berries. Then I relaxed with a beer waiting for Wilmette to show up.
An hour or so later he made it down the stairs, a bit worse off from having spent the night drinking but nothing homicidal. After he¡¯d eaten, we asked directions, began walking again.
Nine days later we found ourselves outside of a far bigger city. Again, instead of looking for an inn, Wilmette headed straight for the most prosperous neighborhood in the town, and located the woman who was undoubtedly the most successful merchant in the city.
The moment we entered her establishment, I saw the kind of curios that would have decorated my father¡¯s home. Gilding was everywhere. Rare silks and expensive furs lay displayed on shelves. Books and maps were behind glass cases, behind the counter. And costly swords and armor, undoubtedly more for display purposes than functional were mounted on the walls.
The merchant eyes went through various stages, the first was the desire to kick us out of her fine store, the second was to eyeball where everything was incase of theft, the third was curiosity, and then came greed, all of which passed in a fraction of a second before her face took on a friendly neutrality.
¡°Welcome to my establishment,¡± she said in a finely lilted Magrith. ¡°I assume you are here to sell?¡±
Wilmette grunted, then in his barely intelligible dialect of Cretan he said ¡°Selling this.¡± And he pulled out the dungeon core and placed it on the counter.
The merchants eyes were now filled with greed. ¡°ten gold.¡± She said instantly in the clearest crispest Cretan I had ever heard.
Wilmette could barely contain his anger, he almost drew his sword, and he did spit on the floor. ¡°Worth minimum 50 Platinum. Nature and Life. My guess 75 years old.¡±
Seeing that even though Wilmette looked and spoke like a yokel, he at least knew his dungeon cores, ¡°You would need to go the capital to get that kind of money. Out here in the boondocks, I could maybe offer you 9 platinum.¡±
¡°Could get 12 no questions asked from Inquisitors.¡± Countered Wilmette.
¡°True. But I could probably scrounge up 15, but that would be my last offer.¡±
Wilmette thought about it for a little while and then rolled the core over to the woman. ¡°Deal,¡± he said.
The woman picked up the core and then went into a back room with it. She came out a moment later, with some paper.
¡°I have the banking contract documents right here.¡± She lay down some documents that had denominations on them. One indicated it was worth 5 platinum. Another 3 platinum. Another 2 indicated they were worth 2 platinum and three more were worth 1 platinum.
¡°They have been sealed to my accounts with a bit of my blood. If you wouldn¡¯t mind pricking your finger, and leaving a bit of blood on each, they can be transferred over to you.¡±
Wilmette had apparently been through this arrangement before and casually pulled out his knife and sliced open his finger leaving a trail of each of the 7 banking documents.
When he was done, the woman said. ¡°A pleasure doing business with you my good half elf, if you see anything in the store that catches your eye I can definitely arrange a discount. And if you happen to stumble across any similar goods, keep my establishment in mind.¡±
Wilmette turned without saying anything and left the store. Our next stop down was of course the local branch of one of the Empire¡¯s banks, where Wilmette deposited his money, and withdrew a hefty bag of gold coins.
After that, he led us to an inn in the seedier part of town. It was near one of the gates out of the city. But thankfully it didn¡¯t look like the kind of place that would have bedbugs.
Wilmette simply walked in, went up to the bartender, plopped downten gold coins and said ¡°Stay 3 weeks. Food, room, bitches. Lots of bitches.¡± Then he thought about it for a second and plopped downten more gold ¡°Same for boy. Show him difference between Woman and Gobble.¡±
He then turned to me and handed methree gold coins. ¡°We stay here 3 weeks. Solstice soon. Elm turn 12, naming ceremony. Father tell me, if you live, I give name. Maybe you want watch others get Status ceremony. Rest. Fuck hoes, not gobbles.¡±
Chapter 21 - Dialogues
The Inn Keeper had hurriedly left before I could speak with him and tell him not to bother acting on Wilmette¡¯s whims with regards to me. I considered chasing after the innkeeper, but figured what was the worse that could happen? I would have to say no thank you to some middle-aged women, and that would be the end of it.
About a half an hour later I discovered how very wrong about my assumptions I could be. The owner of the place where I was staying returned with what I imagine were two pimps. Big men in their late twenties and early thirties.
One of the two flesh-peddlers went upstairs with a group of women between the ages of 16 and 30 or what I expected them to offer me.
Instead, the proprietor came over led his associate to me and trailing behind him were eight girls between six and twelve years old. I guess they must have figured I was young I must want something similar.
The pimp said. ¡°DO YOU SPEAK MAGRITH?¡± Every word he said he spoke twice as loudly as he should have and half as fast. As if he was trying to make up for my presumed lack of linguistic skills by overpowering me with his words. He turned to the Innkeeper, ¡°you never know with these savages.¡±
Looking at me again, ¡°IF THESE AREN¡¯T RIGHT, I CAN GET DIFFERENT ONES. IF YOU WANT YOUR MOMMY, BOY, I GOT MOMMIES A PLENTY. I GOT WILD ONES TOO IF YOU WANT TO TAME ONE. OR IF YOU WANT TO BE TAMED.¡±
When I didn¡¯t reply, the pimp turned to the Innkeeper, ¡°This is hopeless, he¡¯s too stupid to know what his pecker does besides that it feels good when he sticks it in the holes of trees. Let¡¯s just split the coin and call it a day. Nobody cares if this retard gets laid.¡±
I looked at the man whose establishment I would be staying at for the next three weeks and said flawlessly, my aristocratic accent in spoken Magrith coming to the forefront, ¡°I will need to speak with you later. Right now, this man and I have some business to discuss outside of your fine lodging.¡±
It felt nice to be speaking the language of my second birth again. Not as nice as it would have been to speak English, but a close second.
I stood and neither looking to the side or the back walked out of the door.
¡°I¡¯m sorry if I offended. Willem just spoke of your guardian having gold and an atrocious foreign provincial accent. Why don¡¯t we just call it even and begin again.¡±
I said nothing just turned round the corner into an alley way. Then I turned around.
¡°You realize that I not some pissant nobleman, whatever you might think I don¡¯t fight duels, I let other people fight for me.¡±
¡°Cliisa, Bruxton¡± Two massive figures appeared out of the darkness of the streets and quickly flanked the whoremonger. The first was a Woman who was only 5 and a half feet tall, but she was covered in burn marks and scars, and much broader that her hight would tell. The other was a man much who was easily seven feet.
Both of them looked like what I once would have imagined an ogre would look like, that is if I didn¡¯t know already that I would someday discover that all ogres looked like monkeys. Both bruisers carried clubs.
¡°I will have you know that this will hurt me more than it will hurt you.¡± The pimp said. ¡°Killing a customer is bad for business. At least you are from out of town.¡±
¡°I¡¯m going to enjoy hurting you,¡± I said.
¡°Kill him!¡± yelled the pimp, but I was already moving.
Dodging under an upswing club, I used just a touch of my knack and hit the woman with an empty-handed jab in the throat using just about as much physical force as Mike Tyson would have struck in his prime. It broke her trachea, and she collapsed onto the stone of the alleyway.
The other body guard lunged at me with his club. He projected his swing, telegraphed every movement. I didn¡¯t need anything extra to get out the way. If I¡¯d had some sort of bladed weapon, I could have ended it right there and then. Unfortunately, he was too tall, and I could not reach up to his neck to break it.
Instead, I waited for five more seconds to pass, then again only using a tiny fraction of my stored power, shattered both his knees. As he fell to the ground, I kicked him in the head unconscious.
I turned to the pimp who was standing looking at his two body-guards, obviously the veterans of hundreds of street fights, who had just been nullified by an eleven-year-old in 7 seconds.
I said, ¡°I think I¡¯m going to start by hitting you over and over again. When I get bored of that, I think I will skin you alive. Don¡¯t worry about losing consciousness. I¡¯m a decent healer. I can keep you aware while I work you over.¡±
¡°I have money.¡± He said.
¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±
¡°Just tell me what I did to offend you.¡±
¡°It was the girls.¡±
¡°They weren¡¯t good enough? You¡¯re fucking crazy man. Guy wants to kill me because some bitches aren¡¯t pretty enough. Fucking Crazy.¡±
Sighing, I said. ¡°Never mind, you wouldn¡¯t understand anyway. And it doesn¡¯t matter. I can¡¯t change this fucking place, so I might as well work some aggression out on you.¡±
And then I began to do what I promised and hit him over and over. First I broke his legs, then his arms, then the bones in his chest. Then when he was about to lose consciousness, I healed the superficial wounds on his body, gave him a burst of energy and began hitting him again.
After a couple of minutes, I hear one of the bodyguards crawl away. And then a few minutes later I heard the words ¡°HALT¡± behind me.
I stopped punching the pimp and let him drop to the ground.
The guards said ¡°Drop any weapons you are holding. Put your hands on your head. Spread your legs. Don¡¯t make any sudden movements.¡±
Without turning, I said, ¡°I am Elm of House Lysturgus and the Clan Naato, Son of Lord Harrion Wolverine Oak Knight General of the Inquisitors and Lady Margrith Dryad Spiritnettle of the third branch of the Royal Family, let me turn around.¡±
And without waiting, I turned. There were six guards. I reached into my money supply and pulled out twelve gold coins and handed them to the guards.
¡°Feel free to take blood to verify my identity. This man and I were having a discussion. It will be over soon. I won¡¯t leave a mess.¡±
I pricked my finger and offered it to the lead guard who collected a drop on a special piece of paper he carried. Sealing the paper with my essence away for a blood mage to examine later, he said. ¡°Yes my Lord.¡± And took the coins.
His guards were about to leave when he stopped and turned back to me. ¡°My Lord, how were you planning to dispose of the body.¡±
I thought about it for a bit. ¡°I¡¯d been planning to tie it down with stones and dump it into the moat. Why?¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!
The lead guard nodded. ¡°A good plan your lordship. Of course, that still leaves you carrying a body through the streets and trying to slip past the guards at the gate. For another couple gold, the lads and I would be more than happy to dump him in the charnel pile behind the tannery.¡±
I thought about it, then nodded and handed them six more gold. ¡°I was going to skin him alive, but I find myself tiring of this. Can I borrow a knife.¡± A guard handed me one. I reached down to the bloody mass that was once a man, still conscious, still aware, unable even to regret what he had no concept of doing wrong, only capable of feeling pain and cut the poor pimp¡¯s throat.
Before the guards left with the two remaining bodies, their leader stopped and turned to me. "Do you mind if I ask why? I understand if it is your business or personal, but he was just a businessman going providing a useful service. And he his service was quite popular with the wealthy and nobility."
I thought about it for a bit. "I don''t know. It was pointless. Catharsis I guess."
The guard thought about that for a while. "I understand. Sometimes we all need to blow off a little steam. You will have problems because of this. Blowback. This man worked for powerful men."
Back in the Inn the Innkeeper looked at me with eyes filled with fear.
I said, ¡°It should be obvious by now that I don¡¯t need sexual companionship. If, you would like to earn those coins you took, find me a tutor. I am sick of speaking Cretin like aninbred pig fornicator. Bring me another beer then leave me alone for the rest of the evening.¡±
I then walked over to the children who were also looking at me with eyes filled with fear. God knows what they thought I would do to them now.
Opening my thinning money belt, I handed each of the eight girls one of my few remaining gold coins that I¡¯d found while exploring the dungeon after Wilmette left. I¡¯d planned on buying a book. Fuck you, Wilmette.
¡°Go. Learn a trade. Find an apprenticeship. Pay some parents to love you. Take fighting lessons. Invest in shipping. Put it all on red. Use it as your dowry. I don¡¯t care. Just do something different than you are doing right now, and don¡¯t go back to the people who use and mistreat you. I doubt life will give you a chance after this. But then I don¡¯t have a right to make assumptions like that.¡±
I sounded like one of those asshole crusaders who wanted to save all the fallen women because he or she was terrified of their sexuality. I was sick of this whole thing, and I knew the minute I sat down again, nothing would change. They would have the money I gave them taken from them the minute they left this building. But the thing was,during this singular quantum moment in existence, I felt good, like I could hold onto some form of a me that was rapidly slipping away.
That night I got drunk. Very drunk. Very very drunk. I don¡¯t know if I slept in the right room, but somehow I made it upstairs.
I came down the stairs trying to be quiet, but my head was ringing, and I was having trouble thinking. ¡°Bring me food. And boil some water for tea.¡± I managed to croak.
The innkeeper¡¯s wife said in a hushed and frightened voice. There is an Inquisitor waiting for you in the private Room. Lord Er Peregrine Mahogany himself requests you join him. We were just about to go up and wake you."
¡°Which room?¡± I said. I should have expected this. After last night it would have been unavoidable.
She led me to a small private room off to the side and announced my entry. Well, announce was a bit of an overstatement. ¡°Elm is here my Lord.¡±
¡°Great, Great. Send him in.¡±
I walked in. ¡°Lord Er Peregrin Mahogany, than you for this courtesy. Forgive my slow wits this morning but your visit was unexpected and I am afraid I drank a bit too much last night and am still suffering ill effects.¡±
¡°My boy, think nothing of it. I can have the lovely woman outside call for a healing mage if you would like.¡± He said.
I am an utter moron, I quickly worked out the runes for curing a hangover and cast them on myself. ¡°I was even of slower wits than I thought. That should have been obvious, but I feel so much better. Thank you for being so circumspect with providing your wisdom. My last mentor would never have been so delicate.¡±
¡°You are a healer then,¡± Lord Er said.
¡°Among other things,¡± I replied.
He nodded, ¡°It is a useful skill. About this mentor you mentioned, is this what you are doing in our fair city. Your father sent a missive to me three days ago indicating you would be passing through, and he gave me a letter to pass along. Your father is a good friend, especially for a commanding officer, but I am still at a loss about what you are doing out here so far away from¡ well¡ to be blunt, actual civilization.¡°
Lord Er pushed a letter across the table to me, and I slid it over slightly to the right of where my right hand was resting. I would read it later.
¡°You are partially correct. I have just finished training with my Mentor Wilmette Bear Trillium in the wilderness for the last year. We came into your town for my naming ceremony, and undoubtedly my father has a better idea of what I will be doing next and even when and where I will be going.¡±
Lord Er looked startled, then flustered, ¡°Excuse me, did you say Wilmette? For a Year. And you survived. Well, this explains quite a bit.¡±
¡°Why?¡± I asked with curiosity.
¡°If it is the Wilmette I am acquainted with, and with my knowledge of your father, I can hardly doubt that it to be anybody else. His training is well known as being brutal. Sometimes groups of promising Inquisitors are sent out into the wilderness with him for two or three months to learn tracking, survivalism, and combat techniques. I was in one of those groups. There were 25 of us. Five of the some of the best inquisitors in a decade could not survive the combat training. Three he took a disliking too for some reason and killed outright. And another six died in a dungeon exploration we participated in.¡±
¡°You claim you spent a year with the man. I do not doubt you. But I have heard that his long-term training sessions are even more difficult. That Wilmette is more prone to simply kill the trainee on a whim than he would someone training with a group. Someone I trust has mentioned figures as low as a one person in five surviving. And usually those people are much older and longer trained than you.¡±
I shrugged my shoulders. ¡°He is upstairs with some women if you want to interrupt his orgy to talk. I have a brother and sister in the capital, and my Father has told me often enough that I am not even the spare, so I would imagine he was just making some sort of gambit or another. I have no claim to understanding his mind.¡±
¡°Do you mind, if I excuse myself?¡± Lord Er said. ¡°If what you say is true, it will make your stay easier. There are already people who lost money due to your actions last night planning violence against you. Dear Quartering, Wilmette. It might help you if I were to point out to certain parties that any retaliatory violence direct towards will undoubtedly be met with overwhelming force in return, and given who your parents are I¡¯m not sure the political price would be worth it. Especially over a bunch of nobodies.¡±
¡°I would appreciate your help clearing up this misunderstanding,¡± I said.
¡°Then, Dear Elm, I thank you for the time we spent together and the pleasure of making your acquaintance. I now have the onerous task of interrupting an old acquaintance in the midst of coitus.¡±
¡°The pleasure Lord Er has been entirely mine, though I do not envy you the task that lays before you. Wilmette whose vocabulary, while limited is colorful, and who can be grumpy.¡±
¡°Grumpy¡± Lord Er said. Then laughed. ¡°Grumpy. I will have to remember that.¡±
¡°Good Luck,¡± I said.
After he¡¯d left the room, I leaned back into the chair and contemplated my father¡¯s letter. Technically I didn¡¯t have to open it. Though I had been bandying his name around more than I¡¯d ever done before these last two days.
In the end, opening the envelope was a lot like pulling out clumps of hair. After a quick yank it hurts for a while, and then you forget about it.
Besides my Father seemed to be having me scried. He knew where I was and where I was going well enough to send me a letter even before I got there.
I opened the letter.
Elm,
Your training with Wilmette is now over. Congratulations on surviving. You surprised your mother and I. Well done. You might not even be the spare but at least you aren¡¯t as unworthy as you once were.
I do not know what skills you picked up, which directions your talents lie, though I am sure the order will be able to make good use of them.
You are probably wondering where you are headed next. There is a little war being fought on the border of Tenar. I will arrange for something for you there. I will let Knight Captain Er Peregrin Mahogany know where you are to be posted and to pass it along.
Stay where you are right now. Before you left I gave Wilmette permission to chose your Maturing name. The time is coming up quickly. I suggest you do not go speak to the naming order during the solstice festival because it will be chaos.
Your mother has been reading a book and is in one of her moods. One of the creature called an anteater. She has told me to pass a message along to Wilmette that Anteater would be a good choice for you.
My suggestion is that as you tend to be unwelcome and underfoot you ask Wilmette to choose something that reflects this. A zebra mussel, or some sort of parasite.
Your mother also reminds you that you are entitled to a magic, celestial or spiritual animal name due to your link to the throne in her lineage. In my opinion these names are more trouble than they are worth. Both your brother and sister have are named after legendary creatures and they have become merely courtiers in the capital. Political animals, rather than people of direct action. By not claiming your bloodline you can claim anonymity.
Lastly, it is unlikely that your time in the Wilderness has left you with sufficient funds to see you in the custom of our house, our name, and our clan. To that end, I have left some money on deposit in your name and in your blood at the State national bank of the Empire. I believe they have a branch in the city you are currently residing.
Don¡¯t make me regret you,
Harrion Wolverine Oak
Your Father.
Chapter 22 - Shopping
The next stop after reading the letter my first stop was the bank. I could have managed since by Wilmette¡¯s choice were staying in the poorer part of the city, and he¡¯d paid room and lodging. The inn was paradise considering where I¡¯d been living for the last year. But I yearned for creature comforts.
After depositing a small sample of blood and after a crooked and wizened blood mage whose face was lined with some long drawn out bitterness confirmed that I, was me, they consulted their books and discovered that I had fifteen pieces of platinum on deposit or 375 gold.
Keep in mind that the empire did not actually use metal as coinage. Instead, each denomination of coin was cast out of some incredibly hard ceramic and dyed the color of its denomination. Coppers were brown, Silver was grey, Gold was Yellow, and Platinum was White. There were also half and double coins of each denomination that were marked with either a red for half, or blue for double, dyed center.
One side of each coin had the value of the coin in both Magrith, Lantra and an Imperial form of Braille. The other depicted a profile of the Emperor, may she live forever.
My first stop, after asking directions, was to the ¡°best bladesmith in town,¡± which I found out eventually was not turned out not to be the best bladesmith in town. Note to self: Never ask a banker their opinion on the merits of weaponry.
It wasn¡¯t that the man that the bank sent me to was incompetent. I tried out some of his blades, and they balanced well and were decently forged, but they were meant for the layer of nobility that never fought anything except the occasional duel. And I did not need the gilt or encrusted gemstones, the fancy layered steel techniques, the etched mythological monsters rampant on the fuller, and especially not the enameled family crest on the hilt.
Since the sword smith would not tell me who his main competitor walked into a bookstore next. At least this place was familiar. Anyone who has stepped into a rare bookstore would have been able to picture the interior of the store. Dust covered shelves like isthmuses rising into a fertile archipelago of knowledge.
I started to browse through the stacks, and after a while, I noticed a few things. Firstly, there were no books on magic on display. Secondly, all of the histories in stock were histories of the Empire. No other countries were had been written about. Sure there were ancient fables, poetry, literature, language, and the sciences (limited such as this world had) from other nations on the shelves but nothing about their culture, society, system of government or even how other nations beside my own rose or fell.
I did find a rather phenomenal hand-drawn guide of local herbs and their properties. And another of common magical herbs found in dungeons and areas of high mana. There were also a couple of introductory books on alchemy that I looked through and decided to put back down.
I walked to the counter where an elderly man was sitting on a stool with his head in deep in a book. I¡¯m was not entirely sure he¡¯d even been aware that I¡¯d entered the store.
¡°Excuse me,¡± I said.
The man still stared enraptured at his book. The only reason I was sure he wasn¡¯t dead was that he chose that minute to turn the page.
¡°Excuse me,¡± I said again this time louder.
The man looked up. ¡°Oh. Dear me. How long have you been standing there? This is just so fascinating. It is this completely original novel written by a great master author in Zabrin, a nation nearly a thousand miles from here. The main character is some sort of half man with a ring that can turn him invisible. He is on a quest to throw this ring into a volcano. Nine wraiths are chasing him who have succumbed to their own ring, and he only has his friend Samwise to provide companionship. It is riveting.
¡°This is by the same man who published, just last year a play about two young lovers who commit suicide because their families are feuding and will not let them be together. What was that line ¡®But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.¡¯ Where does he get his ideas¡ This Pierre Menard as he calls himself he is a master¡ a literary master I tell you. Though he does have a strange name. It must be a pen name. Foreigners are strange.¡±
I rolled my eyes. Book people. Gotta love em. ¡°I was hoping you had some spell books? I didn¡¯t see any on the shelves.¡±
¡°We do, though we usually keep those locked up. They can be pricey. Not that books are inexpensive. But spell books must be handwritten by a master mage. That makes their circulation limited.¡±
I nodded. The runes, the embedded power would be hard to do with by laying block letters individually on a printing press or even etching a copper plate.
¡°I was wondering if you had anything on healing. Specifically purification, diseases, and sickness. As well as maybe something on boosting the immune system.¡±
¡°Hmm, I don¡¯t have a lot of books on healing, but I will bring what I have.¡± He turned around, and I put the books on herbology down on the counter.
The bookstore owner returned with three books. I opened the first one, but it went into detail about the spells Wilmette had already taught me. I put it aside. The next book was pretty much the same thing, with a couple much more basic spells that and variations that I could have figured out on my own. I pushed that one aside too.
The third book began the same way but then began to go into an exhaustive and detailed account of the human anatomy. Then began to deal with things like contraceptive spells, spells to prevent rheum in babies, spells to cure goats and cattle, and other common spells a village healer might want to know. From there it began to discuss the various flues and sicknesses that regularity passed through a small town and how to combat them, how to purify water, sanitary practices, how to mercifully euthanize someone who would never recover, how to dispel demonic possession, and a million other useful bits of information.
I said, ¡°How much for this one.¡± Holding up the third book.
¡°I don¡¯t know anything about healing magic, but most people usually buy one or the other of the first two. They are classics on the subject. The third book is much less popular.¡± The book seller said.
¡°I already know the information in the first two books. I¡¯m more interested in this one. While this demon dispelling spell looks suspiciously like mumbo-jumbo, the rest of it looks intriguing.¡±
¡°Ten silver for the spell book,¡± he said. ¡°And seven for each of those books on Herbology.¡±
¡°Okay. That makes sense. My next question and I hate saying this, so forgive me, but do you have any books on¡¡± and switching back to my horrible Cretian I said it ¡°gnacks.¡±
¡°Oh! My ears, my poor-poor ears! What a horrible abuse of such a lovely language. I am tempted to throw you out of the store for saying pronouncing something so badly.¡±
I sighed, ¡°Spare me the editorializing. First teach me the proper pronunciation, then the word in Magrith, and then answer my question. Do you have any books on the subject?¡±
We spent a few minutes healing my broken language and then he went through the stacks of books and came back a few minutes later holding two books.
¡°Knacks are rare,¡± he said. ¡°They aren¡¯t talked about, and they are written about even less. It¡¯s even harder because sometimes everyone assumes some has a knack when all they have is a captured dungeon core. You might have to go to a university library to find what you are looking for.
¡°The only thing I have is a book about a well-known pyromancer from about six centuries ago who almost burned down this continent and a man with a healing knack who swept through the lands followed by his followers. He said death couldn¡¯t keep him. And he would be back one day. Funny. It almost sounds like a twice lived, though this was centuries before they started to show up. Still, I¡¯m surprised that this isn¡¯t on the banned list. Maybe I should bring it up the next time Lord Er comes around. Wouldn¡¯t want to get into any trouble, even accidentally.¡±
¡°Banned list?¡± I said.
¡°Oh yes. It is very inconvenient, but what can I do, I have to follow the rules or I might end up on in prison or worse. That would be horrible. Do they even have books in prison? Though if they had books in prison would it be all that bad. I wouldn¡¯t have to deal with customers, though the torture I imagine would be dreadful. I suppose it depended on the books. If they were books I hadn¡¯t read, or if I was suddenly overwhelmed by really annoying customers. Something to think about, something to think about.¡±
¡°Banned List?¡± I said again.
¡°Yes, from the Inquisitors. Who are you that you don¡¯t know about the inquisitors. Any book containing any mention of any system of government other than our glorious empire is banned punishable by death. Any history of our empire written by someone from outside our empire is banned punishable by death. Any books about the Twice-Lived is banned punishable by death. Any books written by known Twice-Lived in other kingdoms are banned punishable by death. Lord Er comes around twice a year to audit my shelves with a long list of known titles. And I am required to send him the names of anyone trying to sell me books on those subjects. It is tedious. Especially since there are rare book collectors, who buy such things. I could make a fortune if Lord Er was just a tiny bit less vigilant. Maybe if I were in prison about to be executed, they would let me read those books? No, I doubt it. That man takes his responsibilities far too seriously!¡±
Then he paused and said. ¡°Forget I said that.¡±
I sighed, ¡°Already forgotten. I guess I will take these three books then.¡± Indicating the one healing book and the two books on herbology. ¡°Oh, do you have any books on dungeons. Common types, where to find them, cores, monsters, that kind of thing?¡±
¡°Fascinating subject dungeons, I believe I have just the book you are looking for. It was written by a mage long ago who was an avid dungeon diver. We owe most of our knowledge of dungeon cores to his work. Anyway, the book contains everything you mentioned as well as a few handy spells if you have the right affinities. It has been in print for close to 3 centuries, and nothing more authoritative has ever been written, simply because going into a dungeon is incredibly dangerous. People who want to update or revise the book, tend to disappear.¡±
He went off to where he kept the magic books and returned with a thick book, that I quickly leafed through. Most of it was in movable type, but there were indeed hand drawn runes for spells, and the book itself reeked of arcane energy.
¡°How much?¡± I said. No matter what I would take it, but I couldn¡¯t let on how much I wanted this book.
¡°Eight Silver.¡± He said.
¡°Less than the healing book?¡±
¡°There are far more copies in circulation. It is a popular book, even among non-mages. Anybody who dreams of making quick riches by looting a core wants to read that book. I have five copies in stock, and it is easy to get more. I would have charged you the same if you had bought the first or second healing book. The one you chose is very esoteric.¡±
I paid for the four books and was about to leave when I had one last thought. ¡°Can you direct me to a competent sword smith and herbalist?¡±
¡°As to a herbalist, Lady Petunia Petunia-eater Petunia is three buildings down. She is the best herbalist in the city. I know nothing about weaponry; now if you excuse me, I was about to read about revealing Isildur¡¯s heir in my book. That Pierre Menard is a genius.
¡°Thanks,¡± said and left his bookstore with all my new loot wrapped in a sheet of lambs leather and bound tightly.
Lady Petunia Petunia-eater Petunia was another damned half-elf. How could I tell? I¡¯ll tell you. She told me. Other than that she looked exactly like any other human.
¡°What quit staring, never seen a half-elf before.¡± Lady Petunia Petunia-eater Petunia said after I had walked into her shop and turned to close the door.
In truth, I had been looking at her boobs which were marvelous, but whatever. Ignorance is better than sexism. ¡°You¡¯re only the second half-elf I¡¯ve ever met.¡±
¡°What can I do for you, young man.¡± She said.
I set my pack down on her counter and pulled out the bundles of plants I had collected from the dungeon. Most of them were wilted. I had tried to dry them in the odd hours when we weren¡¯t walking, so none of the plants were rotting. One or two I had even managed to keep alive by watering and giving the occasional bit of sunlight.
¡°I just went on a dungeon dive with my mentor. I don¡¯t know if any of these are valuable or what they are worth. I don¡¯t know if any of these are harvested correctly. I honestly have no idea what to look for. I did just buy this book,¡± I pulled out the book on Herbs found in dungeons. ¡°But I would be interested in a trade. Knowledge, for these plants. I¡¯m sure at least one or two of them are worth something.¡±
Then I looked at her, as she slowly picked through the plants. A look of interest was in her eye. ¡°So what exactly do you want. Precisely.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.
¡°Tell me what these are. Show me the proper way to harvest and store them. Teach me what to look for to find more or different herbs. Tell me the values I should sell them for. If you know any nature affinity runes or spells to aid in this, teach me those too. If you agree to do that, these plants are yours.
¡°And before you say no, this could work out to be a good arrangement. I am positive this will not be the last dungeon I enter. I imagine that getting high mana plants must be extremely difficult. Having someone who owes you a favor and can get you the plants you need could have benefits.¡±
¡°Done,¡± she said. ¡°When can you start? Are you sure you are as young as you look? You sound like you are ready to spit fire and drink blood, not play games and chase girls without quite know why you are chasing them.¡±
¡°My father ensured that I grow up quickly. Anyway, I have some more errands to run today, but I will be back when I have an hour or two tomorrow. Is there a good time?¡±
¡°As long as I don¡¯t have customers, any time should be fine.¡±
¡°Then I will see you tomorrow,¡± I said, ¡°one last thing, do you happen to know where I can find a good sword maker in this city?¡±
¡°Goodness me, no. But you should ask at the mercenary guild. They are always coming in her to buy healing tonics. They would definitely know the better places.¡± And she gave me directions to the mercenary guild.
A little while later I walked into the Mercenary Guild.
¡°Whad¡¯da ya want half pint.¡± A massive person trying to be man-bear-pig said lounging by the door. ¡°You¡¯re too small to join. Come back when you¡¯re taller than my balls. Unless you¡¯re here to suck my balls, in which case why don¡¯t you come right over. You look small soft and squishy, and that¡¯s just the way I like em.¡±
His drinking buddy reached over and put his hand on the liker of small squishy things and said, ¡°Careful now; he could be a customer.¡±
¡°Are you a customer? Or are you here to suck my balls?¡± Yelled the first mercenary. ¡°Don¡¯t tease a man, tell me. Tell me quick; I¡¯m getting mighty horny with you standing there all soft and squishy. Didn¡¯t I tell you, you¡¯re just the way I like them.¡± He turned to his drinking buddy, ¡°Didn¡¯t I tell him that.¡±
¡°You did. Now calm down. Kid, why are you here?¡±
Before I could answer, I heard someone yell from across the room. ¡°That¡¯s the mother fucker who killed Cliisa last night. He¡¯s the reason why I will never walk again. I am offering five gold to the person who kills that kid.¡±
The big guy who had been calling me soft and squishy stood up. He was nearly eight feet tall, and covered in muscles. He wore armor that was a mixture of overlapping metal plates and leather, and he pulled out an enormous sword. What the hell was it with these mega oversized mercenaries and jumbo monkeys? Did they put something in the water? Mana. Scratch that. They put mana in the water.
I backed up.
¡°I guess you ain¡¯t sucking my cock today boy. It¡¯s too bad. I do like them soft and squishy, but on second thought, you look tough and scrawny.¡±
His partner backed up. ¡°Be careful. He killed two of our own last night. The kid has teeth.¡±
I needed to end this quickly, but I didn¡¯t want to kill the big guy. I didn¡¯t like this, but I¡¯d already drawn too much attention last night. Besides, this was pretty much like the standard prison logic. In jail, pick a fight with the biggest guy in the yard, and you won¡¯t have to worry about dropping the soap for the rest of your incarceration.
On the other hand, I couldn¡¯t end this too quickly, or else they might think it was luck. I hoped big meant slow. And that he was as stupid or drunk as he was acting before I came in. The sword worried me though.
I ducked under an overhead slash, and rushed in, throwing three empowered punches in quick succession to his stomach. His stomach was the highest place I could reach. But I hit him hard and heard him grunt in pain.
He tried to reach me with his off-hand, but I backed away, keeping my eye on that sword. One second is gone. The blade whistled towards my head, and I moved around it. I tried to grab at his sword hand with a nerve hold one of my long-ago instructors had shown me, and almost managed it. That is I grabbed hold of the right place, but his arm was like iron, and I could barely hold on let alone cause the kind of pain I was trying to do. Four seconds. Instead of letting go of his sword arm I kept hold. The nerve pinch was worthless but, five seconds¡
The sword had reached the apex I was dangling holding on to it with one hand; his other hand was reaching for me to rip me off. My feet were dangling in the air with no leverage. I kicked and connected with his body, with his solar plexus and empowered myself. Way more than I had been.
In only slight slow motion, the big guy dropped his sword and I heard, and extended crack from the bones in his chest. He was falling backward, driven backward about 5 feet from my kick, and I was moving the other direction, sprawling towards the door I entered.
The one second was over. I walked over and picked up his sword from the ground. Shit was heavy. He lay on the ground out of it. I held the sword dangling over his throat and said ¡°Yield?¡±
He looked up at me and croaked ¡°Yield.¡±
I put down the sword beside him, eyeing the now silent tavern, then forming the runes of healing over the man on the ground, I proceeded to heal all of his wounds and then get rid of some old bruises and fix some areas in his body that had never healed right. ¡°I am neither soft nor squishy. And if I choose to have you suck my cock you will open up your mouth, gag it down deep, and swallow like a good bitch,¡± I said.
¡°While I have mana left over, does anybody else need healing?¡± I said.
¡°Free?¡± asked a mercenary incredulously.
¡°Free.¡± I said, ¡°Why don¡¯t I heal you.¡± I pointed to the man who had offered five gold to kill me. "I¡¯m sorry about your friend. I regretted last night. And I know you are a mercenary. You were just doing a job. I got in the way of that. Let me fix your legs as a small repayment.¡±
Bruxton the mercenary was pulled over to me in a small wagon by three of his friends. He was wrapped in a cloth diaper because he still hadn¡¯t figured out how to urinate without the use of his legs. He smelt of piss and booze.
I began working immediately. The runes forming quickly and I tried something and gave the healing process just a tiny bit of a boost from the extra mana I had gotten from my knack.
At that moment I felt something click. It was as if healing now suddenly made sense. As much sense as moving quickly did. As much sense as the little tentacles, I could send out to steal or give mana always had.
I had a healing knack. I just couldn¡¯t use it on myself. Still one more thing to keep quiet. Though I wasn¡¯t sure what the point was when the runes were so convenient and widespread.
Bruxton¡¯s knees healed quickly. I then followed up and made some minor tweaks fixing some problems on the rest of his body. I chucked a bit when I discovered that he had Leukemia that was in stage 3 and which had almost reached stage 4 but I set about to fix that too.
¡°You are lucky I stopped by,¡± I said. ¡°You only had humor growing in your bones. I estimate you only had about six weeks to live.¡±
¡°So you say,¡± Said Bruxton.
¡°I don¡¯t care. You¡¯re good. Get up and go away.¡±
I turned to the bar. ¡°What else do I have to do to make things right. You men and women work in a dangerous job, so I cannot accept all the blame for what happened last night, but I will be damned if I am going to walk around this city waiting for you guild-mates to jump out of the shadows at me. They won¡¯t succeed, and I will have to kill them, but I will if I have too.¡±
A man dressed in gleaming chain mail stood up. He looked wealthy, and he commanded a great deal of respect in the room. ¡°I am Captain Alelm Eagle Cedar, could I have your name?¡±
¡°I am Elm, but if you want something more formal, I am Elm of House Lysturgus and the Clan Naato. My patrimony and matrimony are irrelevant for this discussion.¡±
¡°Elm,¡± said the Captain, ¡°You are welcome in this establishment. A servant of Lord Er stopped by a short time ago telling us you had been trained by Wilmette.¡± An awed whispering broke out among the mercenaries. ¡°I am glad to see his reputation as a mentor is well earned. I would have stopped this fight before it happened had I been given a chance, but I will admit I was curious how it would resolve itself.¡±
¡°If you would like to completely make amends, then know that though Cliisa was a woman, she left a wife behind who is now a widow. A sum of 10 gold would see her fed and clothed long enough to move on. But that is your choice.¡±
I reached into my money belt and counted out 15 gold and walked over to the captain and handed it to him.
¡°Good, now then. Why are you here? You are too young to join. You need to be at least 16 and have your status. Do you need troops?¡±
I looked away, ¡°Um¡ this is embarrassing, after all this excitement. Well¡ I broke my sword and dagger inside a 20-foot tall bright orange goblin, and I was wondering if anybody knew a good bladesmith. The one, the bankers, sent me too made weaponry fit for the nobility and not for actual use. I want something strong, flexible, durable, hopefully with some rune magic used in the forging.¡±
¡°So you walked into the belly of the beast hoping to ask for directions?¡± the Captain asked.
¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting this much drama.¡±
¡°That is obvious. Well, I know the man you are looking for. He is a fine smith though impatient with frivolity and a purist with his craft. He is not a mage. Unfortunately, I don¡¯t believe there is a single runic metalsmith within 300 miles of here. But he does make good blades.¡±
¡°Well then,¡± I said, ¡°If you wouldn¡¯t mind telling me how to find this mysterious man, I will leave you to your drinking and be on my way.¡±
A few minutes later I was out in the sunshine walking again. Rays of light gleamed off of the cobbled stone streets. The buildings were made of stone but painted in shades of white or ochre. They were built side by side facing the main street. Most of the rooves were made of painted clay shingles, and more than anything the city reminded me of the city of Bruges in Belgium, which I supposed was logical since Bruges medieval town that had managed to escape the second world war bombings.
The street I was walking down then opened up into an enormous field that was lined with well-groomed trees. A small but quickly moving stream ran down the center of the park and decorative bridges crossing the stream in places. The park itself might have been 100 yards across, but regarding length, standing on one of the bridges, I could look in one direction and see the city walls, and in the other direction I could see the sheer mountain face the city buttressed against. A waterfall fell from a great height off the mountain and gathered into a pool; it was the run off of this water that fed the stream.
Across from where I was standing was an enormous building. It dwarfed anything that I had seen so far in the city. The size was monumental, but not honoring any person or event; palatial, but not housing any king or noble; sacerdotal, but not pertaining to any function of the divine.
It was the House of the Status.
Or at least that is what I had been told by the Captain, who told me to look for it and then make a turn to the left.
Walking down that street and then down another side street and then down another road. The buildings here were more industrial and functional. I passed a stockyard full of cattle. The smell of manure from the stockyard and the smell of blood from the slaughterhouse combined in a charnal bouquet. The sword smith¡¯s establishment was supposed to be just a bit further, and I wouldn¡¯t have stopped but thought the wood and wire of the fence behind which I could see the branded cattle waiting to be processed, of I, happened to notice a cow doing something odd.
It was scratching in the dirt with its hoof.
While I imagine random hoof scratchings aren¡¯t that unusual for cows, it was what the cow was scratching that stood out. While absent-mindedly chewing on its cud, this cow was writing out intricate and abstract calculus expressions in the mud. I had discovered another Twice-Lived.
I watched it for a while. In my head, I named her ¡°Betsy,¡± and Betsy moo-ed but ignored me. The level of pure mathematics that the cow was engaging in was too my extremely limited perspective mind-boggling. Admittedly at this point in time, a cow counting to five would also have been mind-blowing.
The district that the blade smith kept his workshop in was well kept and professional without any ostentation. There were workshops and homes for leatherworkers, glassblowers, clothiers, and even one or two mages offered their services.
When I walked into the workshop a man wearing a heavy leather apron was busy hammering on a bar of steel. There was an oppressive heat in the air from the flames and the smoke from the carbon impurities in the steel.
I watched him work, rhythmically hammering, each stroke regular and precise. No wasted motion, no flourishes, the force of every hammer blow exactly as hard as the one before it. At long last, he quenched the blade.
¡°I seen ya watch¡¯n. I ain¡¯t look¡¯n for an apprentice at the moment, though ya look like ya got the patience for the job.¡±
¡°I¡¯m not here for an apprenticeship,¡± I said,
¡°Then why ya here. Don¡¯t look like the sort who would waste a man¡¯s time for chit chat.¡±
¡°I was hoping to buy a couple of blades. A sword, a few knives. The best you can make. Something fitted for my size. Heavy, but not too heavy. But able to take and give a hard strike. I hit well outside of my weight, and my last sword shattered. If you know or are, a decent mage, who can enchant the blades for durability and sharpness that would be appreciated too. If you don¡¯t know the mage but know where I can find the spells, I might be able to learn them and add them to the blade myself.¡±
The bladesmith paused as if in thought and looked me over.
¡°Kids like you, usually still learning. Ya sure, ya don¡¯t want a good practice blade. I know the real thing looks all fancy and impressive to the girls. I remember what it was like to be young. But I don¡¯t want ya master down here yelling at me after ya cut ya leg or handoff.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t have a master, and I am practiced enough with a sword not to cut myself,¡± I said.
¡°Mind if I verify ya skill. Not that I¡¯m doubt¡¯n ya, but well¡ yes, I¡¯m doubt¡¯n ya.¡± The Smith walked over to a box and opened it. Moving some items out of the way he removed a box that he took out. Replacing the items he¡¯d taken out, he then stood and handed me the box.
¡°Open it,¡± he said.
The box was a long polished pine case. Inside was a layer of fabric and a sword and scabbard. The scabbard was made from steel and eels leather, and the wrap on the hilt was made of eels leather too.
I took the sword out of the box and placed the box on the floor behind me. It was just the right size for me and felt incredibly well balanced in my hands. Removing the scabbard, I looked at the blade itself. It was a masterpiece of ironwork. Perfectly balanced, thin, strong, supple.
Quickly I did a few of the sword kata¡¯s that I had learned long ago but hadn¡¯t practiced in years. They came back to me, though I was a bit rusty. The feel was incredible.
¡°How much for this sword,¡± I demanded.
¡°So ya was be¡¯n honest. Ya do know how ta swing a blade. Sorry that one there. It ain¡¯t for sale. It was my son¡¯s when he was your age. I was planning to give it to his boy when he comes of age. But I can make you something similar.¡±
I sheathed the sword, put it back in its box and handed the box back to the smith. ¡°I¡¯m told family is important. I understand. How long before you could make me something similar.¡±
¡°I reckon about a week. I don''t know spell work, but I can get ya some ground up core dust and add it ta the iron. Let it take ta magic easy. Cost about three gold, though. Can you afford that? My work ain¡¯t cheap.¡±
Without even haggling, I counted out eight gold and placed the coins on their his hand. ¡°Seven more when the blade is done. I will also need at least two daggers. They don¡¯t have to be as well fitted as the sword.¡±
He led me into another room. There were swords on display with scabbards lined against every wall. There was also a table with nearly one hundred daggers on display.
¡°Why don¡¯t I just use one of these swords,¡± I said already knowing the answer but curious about what he would say.
¡°None of them are the right size. Ya still growing need ta grow into ya sword. Need to take measurements for that. Daggers are over here.Eightsilver each.¡±
I began to try different daggers out and eventually found four that I liked. Instead of trying to narrow it down some more, I just bought all four. I could always use a good weapon.
Saying goodbye to the smith, I promised to be back at the end of the week. And laden down with all my purchases, I made my way back to the Inn.
The innkeeper motioned me over and said: ¡°The Tutor you requested is at that table.¡±
There was an old woman sitting in the table that the innkeeper indicated. She looked like she was nearly 90 and a cascade of long grey hair tumbled down her back and lines were folded into her skin. I walked over to her and said.
¡°Hello, my name is Elm. You are my Cretan teacher?¡±
The woman rose, and she shook as she rose, but her movements were still graceful. In perfect Cretan then again in Magrith she said ¡°My name is Elenn Nightingale Winterberry and I am indeed your tutor.¡± Her voice twinkled like a bell but did not carry much over the sounds in the inn.
¡°Do you mind if we study upstairs in my rooms. I promise no harms will come to you. It is just that the common room is too loud.¡±
She nodded her head and held out her hand like a lady, and I held it as she stood up. Together we slowly made our way up the stairs. It took three times the amount of time it probably would have taken me to climb the stairs, but eventually, we neared my room.
Just then a completely naked Wilmette stepped into the hall. He seemed surprised to see me. Four naked women were hitting each other with pillows in his room.
He looked at me. I tried not to look at him. He looked at the woman I was with. He looked at me again. Then he said one word and went back into his room.
¡°Pervert!¡±
Chapter 23 - A few days later
I fairly quickly fell into a pattern. Elenn would bring me books written in Cretan and I would spend three hours with her reading aloud while she corrected my pronunciation and translated the words I didn¡¯t know.
¡°No, no.¡± Elenn said, her voice cracked with age. ¡°¡®To like¡¯ in the subjunctive future is an irregular verb. You can¡¯t just treat it as if it had a standard suffix. Try reading the passage again. I know they look identical in print, but this time remember the rules I taught you this morning.¡±
After my lessons with Elenn, I would wander over to Petunia¡¯s shop to learn about the various herbs and uses of herbs.
Petunia was actually surprised at how much I knew. Wilmette, whatever his flaws was a um¡ effective¡ memorable¡ emphatic¡ teacher. There was a wealth of plants and roots that he hadn¡¯t bothered to cover, however, especially with regards to finding and preserving plants from dungeons.
I would pull out my books, and we would sit go over each plant, and she would explain in detail where they were found, why they were important, how much they would sell for. And if she had any in stock, she would show me what they looked like.
Petunia also taught me a couple of basic runes for preparing and preserving plants. Which were extremely mana intensive. It turns out that while I could do nature magic, it wasn¡¯t one of my stronger affinities.
Which was why after four sessions working with Petunia I had depleted most of the overload capacity that I had stored from draining goblins. If I got into an actual fight, I would have to rely on my actual fighting skills.
¡°You have been so helpful over these last few days.¡± Petunia said.
¡°Yes?¡± I replied.
¡°Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to help me with one of my weekly tasks. Two of us would make the whole process faster. And I could give you some first-hand experience farming dungeon plants that you would not be able to get anywhere else in the empire. Maybe not even anywhere else in the world.¡±
¡°You have my curiosity,¡± I said. ¡°Do I need to bring anything? You did say this is a dungeon. Should I bring some weapons?¡±
¡°No. That would be completely unnecessary. You¡¯ll see when we get there. Wait, you¡¯ll need at least a silver coin for the entrance fee.¡±
The two of us made our way through the city taking a winding road towards the mountain. The street we were on made a turn into the park near the pool and waterfall. I looked up and saw that a stream of cold clear liquid poured out of the top of the mountain nearly eight hundred feet up. Mana was thick in the air here. Ducks swam in the pond and I there were scattered people who had taken time out of their day, to come down and take a break by the water to feed the fish and the birds bits of bread.
The road then ascended a hill directly into the mountain. As I approached I saw that there was a cave into the interior of the rock face that was guarded by a tower, a portcullis, and in my mage sight, more concentrated magic than I¡¯d ever seen.
About a hundred feet above us was thewalled inner city that surrounded the plateau, where the homes of the wealthy looked down upon the park and the rest of the town. This couldn¡¯t be the entrance to those homes. Not only was there the main entrance off of the central road that was much more casually guarded than this fortress but looking past the troop of guards keeping watch over the gate, the road continued inward, into the mountain, not up to the higher levels above.
Lady Petunia Petunia-eater Petunia waved to one of the guards, and he waved back. The two of us walked over to him.
¡°Hello, Petunia. New Apprentice?¡± the guard said.
¡°Naw, Crumb he¡¯s just taking lessons. Paying me to learn, so I thought I would show him the plants.¡±
Crumb nodded. ¡°Did you think about my offer. I wouldn¡¯t mind taking you out to dinner. I know a very good restaurant, low lights, nice music, lovely view of the park. We should go before the city gets crowded next week. It is already getting crowded.¡±
¡°Maybe after the Solstice celebrations. It sounds enchanting, but I have just so much work to do right now.¡±
¡°I understand Petunia. I can wait. You can¡¯t keep putting me off forever.¡±
¡°Lovely man, I have no intention of putting you off forever. If I wasn¡¯t interested I would tell you. I really am swamped with work. The mercenary guild constantly needs more healing potions than I can supply, and sometimes I have to go out and find the ingredients myself.¡±
¡°You Petunia, need an apprentice. Not one who is just paying. But a real honest to good source of free labor. Oh by the way, speaking of the mercenary guild, did you hear¡ the city watch found two dead bodies in the poor area of the city. Someone had driven spikes into their hands and feet and then slowly tortured them to death. There is a rumor going around that there is a necromancer somewhere in the town. Some of the Lords are talking about hiring the mercenaries to increase the number of guards on patrol at night.
¡°This couldn¡¯t come at a worse time. When the solstice is in full swing this city will be full of hundreds if not thousands of young boys and girls ready to get their status and become young men and women. Think of all the damage a necromancer running amock could do.¡±
Petunia thought about it. ¡°You know what I think. It probably is one of those young men or women. Think about it. The time is just right. They come into the town to get their status. They have to be careful in their podunk little village but here in the big city, they can let loose.
Then she said ¡°The status will find them. Then the inquisitors can burn them as they should. Necromancers, Witches, Wrights, Ghouls, Twice-Lived, there are some things that the inquisitors do that scare me but dealing with the truly horrible things in this world. Ughhh. Just burn them¡Burn them good.¡±
The guard Crumb nodded, ¡°Burn them hot and burn them good.¡±
¡°Anyway, we should get going. We have a lot of work to do.¡±
¡°Well, you get in free like always, but it will be a silver for your apprentice. Bye, Petunia. See you next time.¡±
¡°Goodbye Crumb. See you next time.¡±
Petunia and I walked into the mountain. The interior had a manufactured look. This wasn¡¯t some cave that had been found or some dungeon that had been conquered. Instead a very powerful earth mage or group of earth mages must have spent decades building and hollowing the facility out.
We walked forward and branches started to shoot off the main hallway. The whole interior was well illuminated and there was a constant circulation of air from unknown vents. Periodically there were even places set aside to for bathrooms and when I went in one the room was impeccably clean with flowing water and even a space set aside for a shower should I need one.
¡°Let¡¯s go up to the third floor. I haven¡¯t harvested up there in a while.¡± Petunia said.
While there were several places where there were stairs going up and down, closer to the center of the mountain was an actual elevator.
¡°Mages have somehow hyper-concentrated the water from the spring. I don¡¯t know how they did it. They may even have used an elemental. But near the top of the mountain, the water comes out like it is bursting. That water turns a wheel which moves this contraption up. Otherwise, we would have a lot of walking.¡± Petunia said.
¡°And the excess water goes tumbling down the side of the mountain in that beautiful waterfall, into that little pond?¡± I said.
¡°Yup.¡±
We stepped into the box, and Petunia pulled a lever indicating the third floor. And another indicating that we wanted to go up. There seemed to be 53 floors in total. Twenty-three more above us, and thirty more below us.
Slowly the box we were standing in moved upwards. We passed two doors that were presumably the first and second floor given that Petunia indicated we¡¯d been standing on floor zero. Each floor had about 25 feet of sheer rock between them.
When we got to the third floor Petunia got out of the elevator she walked down the central hallway for a bit and then down an offshoot. Laid out every 200 yards, on both sides of the hallway were barred gates. In front of the barred gates were planters filled with dirt and there was a water supply nearby.
And I recognized many of the plants growing in the planters. They were the most common dungeon plants. Valuable for healing and recovery, for spell casting and of course mana recovery. There was nothing truly powerful growing anywhere that I could see, but what was missing in potency was made up in quantity.
This mountain was a farm for valuable plants.
¡°I think I¡¯ve been patient enough up until now. What¡¯s up? What is all of this? Is this a dungeon?¡± I said gesturing around me.
¡°No,¡± said Petunia. ¡°This is not a dungeon. This is over 10,000 dungeons.¡±
¡°Holy shit,¡± I said. ¡°How can that be?¡¯
¡°I don¡¯t know the entire process,¡± said Petunia. ¡°The city elders keep a lot really secret. Only knowledge passed from one trusted family member to another.
¡°It is believed that when a core matures to a certain age it an be cut into pieces like a gemstone. And each piece can be used as a seed for a new core. But that¡¯s just gossip.¡±
¡°I¡¯ve spoken to people who¡¯ve been inside the mini labyrinths. Supposedly there is a really fancy pedestal in the center that is all done up in gold and jewels. Maybe all that fanciness helps the spark of life ignite in the core seed. Or maybe the growing core just needs bling to feed its ego.¡±
¡°The core is then allowed to grow for ten years before it is harvested. Then the labyrinth is cleaned out, and a new seed is put in.¡±
¡°Why so young,¡± I asked.
¡°They are harmless when they are that size. At 15 years they start forming a boss monster. And then it can get dangerous. At least that is what most people think. Ten years I¡¯m told is the perfect age to be ground up into a powder, or used as jewelry.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.
¡°Every month we feed them livestock. Rabbits, chickens, goats, occasionally a cow for the older cores. These things don¡¯t have time to grow a boss monster, and the puny monsters these cores do manage to create, are locked behind the grate and are mostly pretty funny. On par with ferocious chickens and rabbits ¡ª good eating really.¡±
Petunia looked through the plot of earth and plants in front of her. She pulled back leaves and even dug down into the soil a bit.
¡°Well, shall we get started. The city keeps common medicinal herbs in here. I like to come through every once in a while and make sure everything is growing well and there are no parasites. Can¡¯t have parasites. A seven-year-old core, about 20 years ago managed to get ahold of a moth and evolve the caterpillar. Those were some very hungry caterpillars.¡±
Petunia and I spent the rest of the afternoon digging in the dirt on the third floor of mountain that was devoted to growing domesticated dungeon cores.
It was a good experience. It was one thing to read about the plants I was studying, and it was another thing altogether to work with them in a controlled environment.
Every once in a while a chicken would rush the bars of the cage. Ferocious glowing eyes, and horns growing out of the side of their heads, at less than a foot tall they clucked and scratched for grubs, and were anything but a horrifying monster.
Another thing I noticed were traps, like oversized spring loaded mouse traps, baited with brightly colored bits of yarn and sparkly bits of metal. I pointed one of them out to Petunia.
¡°Gnome Traps,¡± she said. ¡°Sometimes they try to abduct baby cores.¡±
I nodded, not knowing what to say.
We made our way down the hallway checking on the plants as we went. It was great getting first-hand experience learning to sort and dig up and root around for the very types of plants I would be, in theory looking for if ¡ª when ¡ª I went dungeon hopping in the future.
The thing was, apparently, these were all tiny cores. Suitable to be ground into a powder for enchanting, or because they were slightly sentient and empathic, trained to respond to emotions and used as jewelry, or simply as a place to store a tiny bit of mana.
Eventually, we finished the hallway and then instead of taking the elevator back down, we took the stairs. It was dark I walked Petunia back to her shop, and then made my way to a dark alley near the main gate to the town.
I had been running nearly empty for the past few days. Oh, I had my normal amount of mana. The amount that came from resting and not casting many spells. But if I got into a fight I needed to be overcharged to be able to fight at my best. I needed more mana.
It wasn¡¯t as hard to be unobserved as it had been even a week ago. The city was filling up with young people from the countryside. This was the only city in nearly a 500 mile diameter where sixteen year olds could get their status magic and according to the traditions of the empire legally become adults. Since I was over-muscled and big for my age, I looked like a short young adult rather than the child that I happened to be.
As day embraced twilight and frolicked and reveled into the evening, groups of young adults wandered the streets. It had started a few days ago, but as more and more people, teenagers, alone and with their families poured into the city, whole neighborhoods took on a festive spirit.
This was the prelude to the upcoming festival. Roving bands of 16-year-olds ¡ª in from the country and off the farm had come to the city for this rite of passage ¡ª here to get their status magic during this week of the solstice ¡ª wandered and reveled, intermingling with townsfolk without any care.
They sang, they danced in the middle of the streets. They kissed complete strangers and public nudity wasn¡¯t frowned upon. Even the most staid citizens handed out alcohol, tobacco, and marijuana to kids as they passed by their doors. And the full festivities hadn¡¯t even started yet.
In the city¡¯s main park, where most of the teenagers were camped out, I saw legs entwined under blankets, in bushes, or even right out in the open; young couples, having just met or have known each other forever; the first time away from the watchful eyes of their parents, or even with parental blessing. They met; boys kissed girls, girls kissed boys, boys kissed boys, girls kissed girls, excitement was in the air, and people were hooking up, screwing, and doing what the young do best with a zeal that I envied.
I made my way through the city towards the gate. The idea of pushing some teenager in from the countryside into an alleyway and draining the life force out of them seemed repulsive. Despicable. Though, I admit, it would have been easy.
Instead, I figured that my best chance to fill up with mana would be to leave the city altogether and find a deer or a bear out in the wilderness. I didn¡¯t need much. Just enough to get into that mysterious dark place of shadows where time seemed to slow down and mana seemed to flow into me like streams pouring into a river.
When I got to the city gates, I cast my ¡°don¡¯t look at me spell¡± and then faded into the regular darkness while slowly, cautiously moving past the guards, silently weaving my way past the merchants and a long winding line of hundreds if not thousands of young people patiently waiting to get into the town.
It was only when I was well past the city walls and into some shrubbery that I lowered my guard. Then I set out walking, trying to make as much distance between the city and myself before it was too dark to see properly.
In the distance I saw a group of trees. In the faded light they stood out as grey. A dark grey silhouetted against blue-black sky. I started to move in that direction and promptly tripped over the furrow in some farmer¡¯s field.
Magesight was better but not by much. Through mage sight I could see the life and the streams of mana flowing all around me, but couldn¡¯t tell me if there as a giant pitchfork to trip over right in front of me.
I didn¡¯t want to light a torch or cast some sort of light spell since the last thing I wanted was company. Why I wanted to kill a deer would have been easy to explain. Though the term ¡°poacher¡± would have then become the problem. Why I wanted to stare at a deer until it fell over dead, drained of its essence, would have been much harder.
The forest was astir with the sounds of the night as I made my way silently through its branches. Frogs chirped in a nearby pool of water, and crickets sang midnight minuettos. In the distance, I felt the beatings of feathers against the air and then a small furry animal began to scream as it was slowly eaten alive.
I looked for something substantial to kill and could find no big game.
I must have looked for nearly two hours. There were no deer here. No elk. No bears. No cougars; not even a lonely lady in search of young male companionship. Not even a stray cow. The most active life source was a young fox cub that was carefully eyeing a new clutch of ducklings, a very full owl that had just finished eating a squirrel, and a weasel sleeping in a hole under a log.
Instead, I decided to change focus. Witches were supposed to kill crops, so what if I tried to drain a tree?
Extending the tentacle of life that I associated with witchcraft outward away from me. Briefly, I worried about that tentacle as it wrapped around the tree. Hopefully nobody from earth would ever catch me doing this. The similarity to some form of extreme etherial hentai was too obvious. No best to think of it as a hose, not a tentacle. Too many unpleasant associations there. Goblins, yuck.
The hose (or straw!) that I sent out struck the tree. The feeling of nature and life mixed, of the wildness and the untamed with a more controlled kind of wildness and untamed. Life magic and nature magic were very closely linked. Very similar in shape and function. Humans were nature and animals and plants were full of life.
I could feel the tree, and I drunk deeply, the roots, down in the earth carried life from all around me. Roots touching roots, insects burrowing in the loam, birds foraging after insects, that was the nature of nature magic, and as I drew it in, I got lost in it.
Until I could draw no more. I had sunk into the process of drawing the mana in, and the only thing that stopped me was a feeling of bloating that I had begun to associate with the point where I would explode in a fleshy bomb of pulverized guts.
Looking around I was standing in a circle, no a sphere of devastation. Everything around me. One hundred yards in every direction was dead. Not just dead. Sucked dry of the very essence of life. Unable to sustain the fertility of nature. Even a desert had more growing in it than the place I stood.
The trees and grass wasn¡¯t simply dead, it had become either ash or petrified stone. Corpses of tiny animals and insects were fossilized, or withered away. There were no birds chirping or squawking in the trees. No insects buzzing in the air. Only silence and stone.
I turned and made my way from that place. My only hope right now was that nobody would find this place while I was near to the city. They were already worried about a necromancer in town, hunting and on the look out. The last thing I wanted was for the alarm to go out that a witch was running rampant too.
It was almost dawn when I entered the city the same way that I left, furtively and hidden from sight. There was a long line of teenagers making their way into the town; it looked like the guards had been ushering them in all night long.
I stumbled into the inn with the dawn. Too filled with energy to sleep, too tired to study. Instead, I sat in the common room with a cup of weak watery beer (this inn seemed to have a version of Amstel Light) and a plate of eggs and kicked back to watch the world go by for a while.
Elenn Nightingale Winterberry showed up eventually, and we spent a productive two hours going over a humorous story in Cretan about a doomed love affair between a gnome and a troll. When she left, I still wasn¡¯t tired, so I got up and left the inn.
If anything the city had taken even more of a Dionysian level of frantic energy today. More and more people were pouring into the city for the status day solstice week ceremony. Now strings of beads were being passed around, and some people had stopped bothering to even flashing for the cheap necklaces and were instead simply walking around in nothing but brightly colored strategically located greasepaint.
Alcohol and weak narcotics were readily available. They were sold on street corners, bars and taverns were open 24 hours a day. Impromptu open-air kitchens had started to appear serving inexpensive food.
Crime had also risen. Not only did I hear about ¡°the necromancer¡± in whispered tones of fear. But there were hushed stories of families who had been robbed, youngsters just off the farm for their status ceremony, drugged, beaten and worse in back alleys. Crooked gambling, deaths, and blindness from contaminated food and drink. There was even talk of a slaver being at work in the city, though I disregarded that since there were no nations that dealt in that revolting practice nearby.
There was also the stuff that wasn¡¯t whispered about. Was there this world¡¯s equivalent to an H.H. Holmes at work somewhere in this town. Who would know? More importantly, who would care? The city watch was stretched thin as it was, and the Inquisition had its own issues.
I stepped into the sword maker¡¯s workshop. He was busy at work pounding out a dagger blade. Like I had before, I found a place out of the way to watch him work. Despite the stolen energy coursing through my system I was in no hurry.
He finished quickly and efficiently, the strokes from his hammer shaping the bright orange metal before quenching it in a barrel of oil beside his forge. When he was done, he put the metal piece down on a work table and looked over at me.
¡°Ah Elm, ya here. I finished ya blade just last night.¡±
He walked over to a table and motioned that I follow him. On a sword, display stand made of oak there lay a blade that even sheathed looked about perfect for me. The bladesmith picked it up and handed it''s over to me.
I unsheathed the sword. Felt it in my hands. There were tiny flecks of glitter in the metal which I assumed was the ground up dungeon core he said he would blend into the metal. So I took a few practice swings. The sword glided through the air. It felt like it wasn¡¯t even there, or rather like it was an extension of my arm, of my hand.
¡°This is incredible,¡± I said.
¡°Ya not done. Two hundred years ago a great weaponsmith created two tests for all honorable buyers. Stories say he was born into a high noble family but chose ta ignore a life of wealth and luxury ta become a simple maker of weapons. Now ya must follow our craft¡¯s ancient traditions and do ¡®Sharpness Test¡¯ and ¡®Kill Test¡¯ known to us all as holy ¡®Forged in Fire Tests.¡¯ Only then can ya know it is a sword good.¡±
I groaned having watched the show in a previous life but followed the sword-smith into a back room. There, a pig carcass hung from the ceiling. There was also some bamboo laying horizontally on some bricks.
Standing in front of the bamboo, I lifted the sword and with precision and control began to wail on the hollow wood. The edge of the blade cut into the canes, not like an ax cut into wood, but more like a knife cut into bread. There was resistance, but it was nothing.
I turned to the bladesmith ¡°This sword will cut.¡±
He looked at me, then clasped his hands in homage, and bowed. Then we moved over to the pig carcass.
Again I raised the sword and began slashing at the dangling meat. It was as if the porcine flesh wasn¡¯t even there and after two lacerations, separated into three portions, chunks of ham fell to the ground.
Again turning to the bladesmith, I spoke the sacred words of their craft. ¡°This sword will kill.¡±
Looking at the blade, there was barely any sign of a nick or groove in the iron. From the looks of things, it was still as sharp as it had been when I first walked into the shop.
¡°Feed ya sword mana. The core dust canna store it but for a few hours. Mana will seep into the metal. Day after day, year after year, the sword will grow harder, sharper, lighter. S¡¯long as ya keep feeding her mana. It be a slow process. Years of work. Core dust is not powerful on its own, but over time, with patience, can make something powerful. Ya understand?¡±
I was so happy with the results I overpaid him again and handed the master craftsman another gold coin on top of the three I owed him. He shook his head but pocketed the money. ¡°Come back any time, ya hear.¡±
Chapter 24 - Rites of Passage
When I got back to the inn, Wilmette was downstairs surrounded by a group of women. He waved me over to him and pulled up a chair when I approached.
¡°You are looking full of energy,¡± I said in much improved Cretan.
¡°Air. It agrees.¡± He nodded. ¡°You too. I sense, full of energy. Healthy. Happy?¡±
I nodded. ¡°I am both healthy and happy.¡±
¡°We go you name now then,¡± said Wilmette. ¡°Bitches come!¡±
¡°They¡¯re coming?¡± I said.
¡°Why not? Witnesses. Festive day. Not shriveled up bat or gobble like pussy Elm like. Should be around real women on an important day.¡±
I sighed. Wilmette went to the bar and bought six more bottles of the foul nameless booze he seemed to love, and then our strange procession began winding our way down the streets.
Of course, we had to make some stops. The women couldn¡¯t possibly be seen at my maturing celebration in anything less than new dresses. So a detour to a seamstress was in order, and when we left the prostitutes were even more lovely than they had been before.
Then Wilmette spotted a street musician, and we had to stop, and I danced with all the girls, and his alcohol was passed around. Some of the other teenagers who were in town for their Status day celebration joined in the fun, and soon people were yelling ¡°Happy maturing day Elm!¡± So, instead of simply moving on Wilmette hired the musician to follow us on our way.
Then we ran out of alcohol, so of course, we had to stop off at the next tavern to get more, and Wilmette bought a round of drinks for everyone in the bar. I and one of the girls took turns translated for him since he couldn¡¯t speak the Magrith. We left that tavern with a couple of kegs of beer, several dozen cheap bottles of wine, ten more bottles of the rotgut Wilmette drank, another twenty people and two more musicians.
People kept yelling out my name. I became like some triumphant hero as our parade now wound our way to the House of the Status. ¡°Happy maturing day Elm!¡± the girls in the group, not only the prostitutes now, but dozens of young women here for their status day ceremony ruffled my hair, kissed my head, pinched my cheeks, had my face weepily stuffed into cleavage, and in their inebriated way treated me like I was some long-lost just-reunited six-year-old family.
Before we got to the House of Status, we needed to stop off for booze three more times. Nearly two hundred people were following behind us. Some of the people in our party didn¡¯t even seem to have a clue why they were following along. Just that there was free alcohol and it seemed fun.
As a mass, we walked into a side door of the hall. One of Wilmette¡¯s prostitutes ran ahead to tell the official from the society of the Status why we were here. We waited in a long stone hallway that ran inside the building. The musicians couldn¡¯t agree on what to play so they each started up a lively song and tried to outplay one another. It all blended into a loud but happy cacophony of music that somehow fit with the mood of our procession through the streets. Soon a group of people were dancing or at least trying to dance. More booze flowed. People seem to have brought their own cups or bowls, and none were empty for long.
At long last, an elderly woman in ceremonial robes came into a hallway where we were waiting. Even I was drinking by now, though not much since nervous energy was running through me. What name would Wilmette choose? Wilmette could be unpredictable at the best of times. Deranged and violent at the worst. Would I go through the rest of my life, forever known as gobble-fukr? I wanted to be sober enough to object if I got stuck with something terrible.
The woman in the ceremonial garb led us into an open amphitheater. We emerged onto the floor of the theater almost like a football team coming out onto the football field. Immediately the official from the House of Status delegated one of Wilmette¡¯s women to direct the drunken party goers into the seats around the main stage, where the party continued even more uproariously.
Myself, Wilmette, the rest of the prostitutes, and the official then walked onto the center of the stage. There was a raised podium with a giant globe that cracked with mana to one end of the stage, but we ignored that.
Instead, the woman in the ceremonial garb raised her arms and said ¡°Silence!¡± in a voice like thunder and everyone cheered. ¡°I mean it, Silence! I Frida Nightjar Longleaf demand Silence!¡± The room stilled to a steady whisper, and even the musicians stopped playing.
¡°We come together on this solemn and august occasion to celebrate Elm¡¯s first great step towards manhood. Elm has survived the winters and weathered the summers of our great empire, and they have made him strong. No longer is necessary for him to simply grow under the whims of those men and beasts that pass him by, it is time for him, like all life, to step out of his flora stage, and transition into his fauna stage, moving one step closer to when he can fully become a human, and take on a human name.¡±
From the stands someone yelled out ¡°Happy maturing day Elm!¡± and a dozen other people called out my name imitating him. Someone else in the crowd took the opportunity to vomit loudly.
Frida yelled out ¡°Silence¡± yet again, and the crowd quieted quickly.
Frieda Nightjar Longleaf turned to Wilmette and said ¡°You are this boy¡¯s guardian and mentor. Do you have a name for him?¡±
Standing beside him the prostitute who had been helping out by translating what Wilmette said to all the bartenders, drunks, musicians, raconteurs, and gamblers we had passed by in the street, translated what the Naming and Status official said into Cretan for Wilmette. I hadn¡¯t taken the time to look at her before, but she had the loveliest brown hair.
Wilmette said, ¡°Elm always little pussy. Elm is named Lynx.¡±
The prostitute with the nice hair translated what Wilmette said (thankfully leaving out the editorialization), and the official took out a six by eight-inch metal plate, a silver plated bowl, a pen, and a small knife, from a bag she was carrying.
¡°Elm hold out your arm,¡± she commanded. So I held out my arm, and with a practiced slice, Frieda cut open my Radial artery and directed the now spurting blood into the silver bowl. When there was about a half an inch of blood filling the bottom of the vessel, she casually cast the runes for healing and the cut on my arm sealed up.
¡°Elm, by writing your name on this plate, I link you by blood and by name with every citizen of this great empire.¡±
She dipped her pen in my blood and then wrote out the words Lynx Elm in large Magrith letters across the plate. When the letters were fully formed, she cast another spell, similar to so many of the life and healing spells I had cast so far, but also completely different. The letters of my name seemed to sink into the metal plate as if fading into a great distance and then they disappeared.
¡°I welcome you Lynx Elm of House Lysturgus and the Clan Naato, newly awoken into your maturing, may your voyage to humanity be fruitful and your contributions to our society by many.¡±
Somehow the crowd knew that the ceremony was over and the peanut gallery burst into cheering and chanting. Half of them were yelling ¡°Lynx¡± or ¡°Lynx Elm¡± while the other half were yelling ¡°More beer¡± or ¡°I think I¡¯m going to be sick¡± the three musicians had decided to stop playing against each other and had formed a trio, and started playing a raucous and joyful tune. All of Wilmette¡¯s ladies took turns kissing me while Wilmette glared at me with jealousy until his women finished and went back to fondling him. Then he came over and slapped me on the back.
Now that the ceremony was over I turned to Frieda and asked her ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± pointing at the glowing sphere.
¡°It is the artifact that powers the transfer of status magic young Lynx. When you turn sixteen when you become a human and a man you will take your place in our society and a representative from our order will channel the sacred magic through the sphere, and your status will appear. But don¡¯t worry, you still have to prove yourself in our society before you can take that step. Do great things, and when you are sixteen, maybe we will meet again.¡±
We didn¡¯t make it back to our inn that night. Somehow we managed to make it to the great park that ran through the town. The number of musicians had swelled to a dozen, and some industrious boys had chopped down some of the trees which grew majestically along the edge of the stream and built a massive bonfire.
Even more beer had been purchased. I¡¯d even donated some gold coins for a dozen more kegs and two whole pigs which were spitted and were now being slowly turned over a pit.
A group of girls had dragged me over to the stream and were playing a game. They would spin a bottle and every time it landed on one of them; they would have to kiss me. Every time the bottle faced me, I would have to take a sip of beer.
For a second I thought I caught sight of Wilmette in the darkness for an instant. It looked like he was following what looked like two very drunk teenagers who were stumbling around looking for a place in the night to sleep it off. Wilmette seemed to have a predatory look in his eye, and I would have sworn I saw the glint of a knife in his hand. Maybe I imagined things, the park was an open field of grass and hardly private. But I tried to get up, to warn someone, but at that moment a girl with sandy blond hair and a thick joyful laugh pushed me back down and stuffed her tongue in my mouth.
The next morning I woke up asleep in the grass with the worst headache I had had in this or any of my lives. Dozens of people were snoring all around me. I quickly cast healing runes on myself.
Then wentlooking for a shirt, since I didn¡¯t seem to be wearing one. It was hard to find places to walk without waking anybody up. I still had my pants and a single shoe on. My money was also gone. And the only good thing about that was that I had almost already spent the amount I had taken out of the bank, and still had a lot more in the bank.
The dagger I¡¯d had with me the night before was gone, though I still had it¡¯s scabbard attached to my belt. And the probably the only reason I¡¯d managed to keep my brand new sword is that even in my drunken state I¡¯d managed to cradle it to my chest as I slept. I would need to see if I could get that sword linked to me by blood. In all honesty, I probably would have gone somewhat homicidal had I needed to find and get my new sword back.
It occurred to me that the only reason that someone hadn¡¯t sliced my throat last night while they pilfered me was that they probably hadn¡¯t thought of it.
I found another shoe that fit after about a half an hour of searching. It wasn¡¯t my shoe. Furthermore, it was poorly made and uncomfortable. But at this point, a shitty shoe was better than being barefoot.
I could not find my shirt.
While I was looking, I¡¯d also offered my services as a healer, curing the hangovers of nearly a dozen people who were awake. It was a massive drain on my energy, and I forced myself to stop so that the overflow that I had gotten the day before would not be wasted.
On my way back to the Inn where I was staying, I stumbled in my ill-fitting shoe to the bank, a cobbler, and a tailor, and a restaurant for breakfast in that order, to fill my various needs for the morning. Well fed, and in an entirely new set of clothing, I walked through the streets feeling slightly better than I¡¯d woken on them.
Back at my Inn, I wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and go to sleep. I was exhausted. There was no sign of Wilmette in the common room, but I assume that he was back upstairs having fun or sleeping things off.
I was about to go up the stairs myself, but the innkeeper called me over.
¡°A servant brought this over for you this morning.¡± He handed me a letter with a wax seal.
I sat down at one of the tables and broke the seal to the letter.
Lynx Elm,
I would like to congratulate you on your recent advancement towards the world of men. There are some things we must discuss. At your convenience, please visit me at my manor.
Lord Er Peregrin Mahogany
It took me a while to get the directions to Lord Er¡¯s house. People knew him, but not many people in the city had actually visited him. Eventually, I just went to the walled inner plateau overlooking the rest of the city asked the guards for directions from there.
Lord Er¡¯s home, unlike the many clay brick homes in most of the town, was an enormous edifice built from massive polished blocks of the local mountain¡¯s pyrite veined black granite and imported white marble accents. Like all the houses of the wealthy, there was a servant waiting out front ready to announce visitors. I waited in the screening room as the servant entered the house to announce me.
Another servant came out to guide me to Lord Er.
¡°Ah, Elm¡ or should I say, Lynx Elm, congratulations on your maturing day.¡±
¡°Thank you, my Lord. It is exceptionally kind of you to have me in your thoughts.¡±
¡°Nonsense. I have already sent a message to your father, and he no doubt approves of your growth as well. It is to that end that I have asked you here today. Your father has sent me word of your next assignment and your promotion.¡±
¡°Promotion?¡± I asked.
¡°Of course. You are of the age to begin to accept responsibility. On their Maturing day most people are formally accepted into their apprenticeships, did you not think the same thing would happen to you? Come with me Lynx Elm as I formally induct you into your new life.¡±
Not knowing what to expect but worrying, I followed along as Lord Er led me through the halls of his home and into a sanctum dedicated to arms and past victories. On a pedestal there was a sword that crackled with mana and an enormous dungeon core had been built into its hilt. From out of the darkness of the room stepped five inquisitors in full regalia.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
Lord Er walked the pedestal where the sword lay in honor and lifted it, drawing it from its sheath. The blade was thinner than a normal. More a saber than a long sword and the metal was black flecked with silver and red.
¡°We have among us someone who seeks to enter the ranks of the inquisitors. He has been put through trials and found worthy. Does anyone here have anything to say either for or against this candidacy?¡±
None of the inquisitors in the room made a sound.
¡°Kneel, Elm,¡± I hesitated. Did I really want to become an inquisitor? It was strange that nobody had asked me my opinion on this matter.
¡°Kneel, Elm,¡± and someone from behind me kicked my legs out from beneath me and I went crashing to the floor. I got up, and when I was on my knees and ready to stand, two of the inquisitors in the room grabbed me by the shoulders and held me in place.
I looked up at Lord Er. He smiled, and then like a snakes tongue the sword ¡ª crackled with a strange kind of energy, similar and yet entirely different from all the mana I had seen so far ¡ª shot out and stabbed me through the chest. I felt every inch of the metal from the weapon slide through my body. Felt it sever my spinal cord on the way out. Felt my blood pour down my clothing and gather in pools on the floor. My mana flowed into the sword, and I felt my heart stop. Yet I stayed conscious. Alert. There was a giant bar of metal running through my body, and it felt like my world was on fire, and yet I was entirely focused on Lord Er, my murderer.
¡°Lynx Elm, do you swear to follow the Laws of this Land as you know them.¡±
That was easy; nobody had told me any laws, even killing Twice-Lived up until now seemed more a tradition than something codified. I was splitting hairs here, but the words ¡°as you know them¡± left a lot of wiggle room. I would have wondered if that was on purpose, but my life was literally hanging on the edge of a blade.
¡°I do.¡±
¡°Lynx Elm, do you swear to uphold the Laws of this Land, as you know them.¡±
¡°I do¡± I croaked blood pouring out of my nose and mouth.
¡°Lynx Elm, do you swear to enforce the Laws of this Land, as you know them.¡±
¡°I do.¡± There was nothing left in me. I couldn¡¯t even say I was hanging onto my life by a thread because the only thing keeping me alive ¡ª somehow ¡ª was the sword that had been rammed through my chest.
Lord Er pulled the sword out of my body and re-sheathed it. The gaping hole in my chest healed as if it had never been there. My spinal cord fixed itself as if it had never been severed. My heart started up. All the mana was drained from my body though. Even the excess that I had stolen from the forest with my knack.
¡°Welcome Lynx Elm, welcome into the ranks of the seekers. You may be the most junior branch of the Inquisition, but your duties are not insignificant.¡± Lord Er walked back to the pedestal and replaced the sword. He then took out a platinum ring from a drawer, and a knife then walked back over to me.
¡°A bit more of your blood Lynx,¡± he said and gestured to my hand. Using the knife, he pricked it and let the drops of blood fall onto the band of platinum. Runes so similar to life runes but so different formed on the blood and the ring, and then they disappeared. He then placed it on my finger.
¡°You are one of us now. Tested by the sword. Banded on the finger, until death do you part. Congratulations. There is a room set aside for you to clean up in. There are also official inquisitor clothing for someone of your rank of your size. Once you are done, come see me before you leave. A servant will bring you to me.¡± Lord Er said.
Exhausted I was led out of the inner room by the two inquisitors who had been holding me down. I grunted ¡°thank you¡± and saw one of the two, the man, nod. When we were in the hallway, I was transferred into the helpful arms of a waiting servant who helped me into another room. There was a bath, a table with some food and drink laid out, some chairs, and a full set of inquisitor garb in my size hanging from a hook on the wall.
I ate and drank first, and the food helped me recover more than anything. There was a weak mana potion that had been dosed into the juice on the table, and that helped me recover even more. The servant asked if I needed help bathing, and I told him ¡°no, I can manage on my own.¡± He nodded and said ¡°I will return in half an hour to take you to Lord Er,¡± before he left
The pool of water was warm. This room had obviously been set aside for ceremonial purposes. It spoke to Lord Er¡¯s wealth that he could dedicate an entire space of this size for the occasional guest who needed to be initiated into the order. But then there was undoubtedly a lot of Inquisitor business that I knew nothing of, and maybe this room saw more use than I assumed.
There was a fresh, fragrant soap that smelt of ambergris and sandalwood and even a loofah prepared for use. The water was warm but not overly hot. I washed myself, and then not seeing any other alternative, put on the inquisitor garb. There were even boots that must have been had mana used somewhere in their construction because there was no way they could feel so comfortable otherwise. I left the clothes I had just purchased this morning. They were covered in blood and had an enormous sword cut through the front and back.
Dressed in my new uniform and feeling every inch the little Hitler Youth, I sat down and waited for the servant to reappear. And eventually, I was ushered back into Lord Er¡¯s presence.
He looked me over. ¡°Well and fondly do I remember the moment when I stood where you stand now. The future was about to open up in front of me. No longer tied to my name and family, but part of something greater than myself. Congratulations Seeker Lynx Elm.¡±
¡°Thank you, Lord Er. Just out of curiosity, has anybody ever said no during the ceremony?¡±
¡°It has happened. Occasionally some candidates are not able to answer truthfully or simply say no. I have never seen it. Usually, the candidates are well vetted before they reach the point of swearing in, but it does happen. I am told that those occasions are unpleasant for everyone involved. Killing a youth, especially one in which the order has found promise is never something undertaken lightly. Necessary sometimes, but never undertaken lightly.
¡°Now keep in mind Lynx Elm, the ceremony is never spoken of among outsiders and those seeking entrance to our ranks. It is a ritual that would become tarnished if it was expected by every initiate or known to the wider world. I am not asking you to swear to keep this secret; I am simply asking you, on your name and honor not to mention it.¡±
¡°Of course Lord Er. Though I wouldn¡¯t even know who to tell. I¡¯ve never met another initiate. I didn¡¯t even know that I was an initiate until today.¡±
Lord Er nodded but said nothing. Then he spoke, ¡°You must feel tired.¡± He pushed a rose crystal bottle to me.
I removed the stopper, and the heavenly scent of coffee filled the room.
¡°Drink it. It is a rare mana potion, made from the Palmatiri root, quite valuable. Usually, I don¡¯t give these out to new initiates. But considering your father, and the tasks ahead of you, I thought this might be helpful.¡±
I raised the mana potion to my lips and drank. A feeling of power and energy washed through me. Not only was I filled with mana, but my overflow held a healthy amount now too. Petunia Petunia-eater Petunia had mentioned the Palmatiri plant. It sold for nearly a full platinum piece when it was found. Now I knew why.
¡°Now on to the task ahead of you. Your father has sent word that you are to go to the border of the Empire and the kingdom of Argran. A war has broken out there; though this is the fourth war that has broken out along that border in the last twenty years. There is a powerful mage with either the pyromancer knack or more likely holding a dungeon core taken from an old flame affinity dungeon.
¡°As an Inquisitor Seeker, you automatically hold the rank of Lieutenant in our Empire¡¯s army. Your task is to report to Lord General Aram Heron Sequoia in three weeks. He will assign you your duties. Good Luck, and behave yourself as an inquisitor would.¡±
I made my way back to the inn where I was staying. Where before, the ebb and flow of the festive crowd pulled me along with it, as I walked dressed as a member of the Inquisition, people made way in front of me, and I seemed to walk inside of an invisible bubble of force within which nobody entered. It made me tired and a little depressed.
Wilmette was back in his room. It was closed, and a characteristic grunting and giggling made me avoid lingering in the hallway. The innkeeper had addressed me as ¡°My Lord¡± for the very first time, and the entirety of the common room had silenced when I entered it. There had been a package from Lord Er on my bed when I entered, and when I opened it I found four more uniforms.
Instead, I chose to sit on my bed in my room reading the spell book on healing that I had bought a week and a half ago. I read until darkness and learned how to prevent a breech birth in horses, how to clean the impurities from water, wards to keep lice, bedbugs, and gnomes out of a building, a way to curse mice with insanity and visions, a way to detect snoopy neighbors, and a way to purge the demon king from tulip bulbs. The book did not explain what the demon king was doing in tulip bulbs, but I memorized the spell just in case.
When it was nearing sunset, I put on some of my old clothes. I left my sword and my knife and most of my money except a few coppers and two silver, inside my room, I did hide a gold piece inside my shoe just in case.
Moving to the tiny barred window looking down at the courtyard below, I shifted into the strange world of black and white and shadows. Mana began pouring into me, and I stepped from out of my room down into a lingering darkness down below. From there, still moving as time was slowed, I made another movement and found myself in the alleyway in back of the inn where I had killed the pimp. There I stepped out of the world, filled with an excess of energy and power.
There I shifted my appearance to be someone else. I changed my hair to a messy black and covered my face with the first traces of acne and baby fat. I removed some of my muscles and made myself heavier, stocky. And then, no longer looking anything like Elm, I set out into the streets and made my way to that long central park where I had been spending so much time recently.
This morning while I had been occupied, the Solstice Status ceremonies had begun, and I had to admit I was curious.
Even though it was almost dusk, someone told me that this year the ceremonies would continue until midnight, and resume again with the dawn. There was a line that had formed of teenagers waiting nervously and impatiently at the main doors to the House of Status. I joined the back of the line.
¡°Aren¡¯t you a little young to get your status?¡± said an older boy
¡°I¡¯m not here to get my status. I¡¯m here with my sister and my mom and dad. Kitty is really nervous, and no matter how much dad tell her it¡¯ll be okay, she won¡¯t come out of the room at the inn. I wanted to watch the process. If it don¡¯t hurt, I¡¯ll tell sis, and maybe set her mind at ease. Can I join you? Can I, please, please.¡± I said trying to hid my noble accent. It was the story I had come up with while I¡¯d walked over.
The older boy laughed. ¡°Sure, I¡¯m Steer Ivy. This is my twin sister Cow Ivy. I know. I know. It was confusing our whole life with our parents naming us so close.¡± He put his arm around the girl who was standing next to him. ¡°Cow Ivy, this is¡ what is your name?¡±
¡°I¡¯m Potato.¡± I said.
¡°Cow Ivy, this is Potato.¡±
¡°Nice to meet you Potato. The mayor of our town was named Potato, well it is really Har Raccoon Potato, but he must have been a Potato when he was your age, anyway, and he must be 80 and he married little Car Fawn Milkweed last year when she came home from her status festival and Potato, this is Rabbit Thistle and Canary Corn they are our friends, we met them in the park, and my brother thinks that Canary is pretty.¡±
¡°Cow!¡± Yelled Steer.
¡°Well you, do Steer, I don¡¯t know why you don¡¯t just tell her, you can get married here really easy, too. So many people boys and girls do. They come for their status, and they come back home to the farm with a new husband or wife, bring new blood into the village like Har Raccoon Potato says, and he is right even though he is disgusting¡¡±
¡°It isn¡¯t safe to be alone,¡± the boy named Rabbit Thistle spoke for the first time. ¡°I heard that the necromancer killed two more people last night.¡±
¡°There¡¯s a necromancer!¡± I said.
¡°Yeah. That¡¯s why there are so many people in line right now. Normally this celebration goes on all week. Now people want to get this done as fast as possible and then get out of the city. They even extended the hours until midnight. Normally, the House of Status is open from dawn to dusk only.¡±
¡°I¡¯ve never seen a necromancer,¡± I confessed.
¡°Nobody has, Potato. If you see a necromancer, you¡¯re as good as dead. I hope the inquisitors get them and burns them real good.¡±
¡°Scary,¡± I shivered. ¡°I hope we¡¯re safe in our inn. So do you know what happens when you get your status. My ma and pa haven¡¯t told me nothing.¡±
¡°Nothing fancy,¡± Steer said. ¡°You go in there, and someone from the House of Status will ask you what kind of status you want. Then they give it to you. My older brother says it hurts like nothing else. But I think he was fooling to make me scared.¡±
¡°Type of status? I thought there was only one.¡± I said.
¡°Where is your farm that you don¡¯t know.¡±
¡°Way out on edge near the forest. Ain¡¯t nobody near us.¡± I said defensively.
¡°There are four different types of status,¡± said Cow Ivy. ¡°Copper, Silver, Gold, and Platinum. I don¡¯t know anything about Gold and Platinum Statuses, nobody I know has one except Har Raccoon Potato who people say has a gold status, and he is disgusting, and I ain¡¯t know nobody who wants to ask him. They cost ten copper, or 10 silver, or 10 gold, or 10 platinum to get though, that is only tradition, and nobody charges anything for a Copper Status anymore, so everyone I know gets it.¡±
¡°What happens when you get a copper status?¡±
Steer Ivy answered, ¡°When you put a drop of blood on a status plate, you can see your important stats. Things like how strong you are, how fast you are, how tough you are. You know when you are sick and how hurt you are because it tells you how much healthy you have left.¡±
¡°And you get Freedom Points. Don¡¯t forget Freedom Points. They are the most important thing. At least that is what Har Raccoon Potato says but he is disgusting, and he could be lying.¡± Said, Cow Ivy.
¡°What are Freedom Points?¡± I asked as our position inched forward in the line.
¡°When you get a Copper Status you get 150 Freedom Points automatically. Freedom Points make you better. They make you more free.¡± said Rabbit Thistle before lapsing again into silence.
¡°He¡¯s right.¡± Said, Steer Ivy. ¡°Everyone who gets a Copper Status automatically gets 150 Freedom points. Freedom Points make you better. I don¡¯t know the exact Math of it, but Freedom Points improve all your stats. Let¡¯s say your status says you have a ten strength, a ten stamina, and a ten agility. If you have 150 Freedom points your Status is automatically changed to 15 Strength, 15 Agility, and 15 Stamina. If you have 200 Freedom points your Strength become 20, Stamina 20, and so on.¡±
¡°Wow,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s neat. How do you get Freedom Points.¡±
Our position in line was slowly moving forward. We were inside the building now. The sky outside had turned to a deep dark night.
¡°Working hard. Obeying the Nobles. Bringing in the Harvest. Being Honest. Paying you taxes. Finding Twice-Lived. Serving in the Army. It is easy. Do things you would normally do, and you get stronger. And it is Free. Copper Status is the best.¡±
¡°Can you lose points?¡± I asked.
¡°Yes. If your Freedom points ever drop to zero you die. And the less you have under 100, the harder your life gets. Silvers don¡¯t have Freedom Points so if someone is really unlucky, like if a noble holds grudge against them, sometimes the only way to save their life is to wait until Solstice and upgrade their status to Silver. But it expensive. Not many people in our village, except maybe Har Raccoon Potato can save up ten silver,¡± said Cow Ivy.
¡°You can lose points?¡±
¡°Yeah, but it doesn¡¯t happen often and only to bad people. You lose Freedom Points by committing crimes, disobeying a noble, adultery, talking against the empire, being a twice lived, stealing, being lazy, being a no good. I mean who wants to live like that anyway. If you¡¯re parents taught you right, points are easy, and you just get stronger and stronger, and you can work harder and harder. Or you can become a better and better soldier.¡±
¡°It sounds great. Silver Status people don¡¯t get Freedom Points?¡± I said.
¡°Yeah, Silver status people are so much weaker than us Copper status people. But they don¡¯t have to go to a Status plate to see their status; they get a blue screen that appears in front of them. And other stuff, useless stuff I guess. I don¡¯t know much about it. Silver people are real uppity and hoit-toity about their status and don¡¯t talk about it much. I guess they would have to be if they want to spend that much money when a copper status is basically better and free.¡± Said, Cow Ivy.
¡°So you all are going to get Copper statuses?¡± I asked, and Canary, Cow and Steer all nodded, none of them noticed when Rabbit Thistle didn¡¯t. We were standing in the auditorium where I had had my naming ceremony, and I was about to make my way into the seats to watch, everyone in the group was excited and ready to move forward, and I wanted to watch the process, though I was much more interested in seeing the process up close.
Just before I stepped into the seats, Rabbit Thistle grabbed my arm and whispered, ¡°I¡¯m getting a silver status. I¡¯m in love with a boy, but a boy and another boy would lose too many Freedom Points. We would both be dead in a year. We both need to have silver statuses to be together.¡± Then he let my arm go, and I moved into the stands, and I could see the glint of silver coins in his hands.
I found my place into the seats. There were far fewer people watching than there had been the night before at my maturing naming celebration. I was tempted to gloat about that until I overheard the person sitting next to me say something about ¡°stuck up noble with free booze yesterday,¡± at which point I focused on what was happening down below.
It was an orderly process. Each young boy or girl would step onto the stage. The official who had been at my naming ceremony yesterday, Frieda Nightjar Longleaf, held a staff in one hand. She had the boy or girl touch the giant glowing sphere on the dais, and as the mana from the sphere began coursing through their body, she touched them with her staff and said one word.
As I watched the glow around the boy or girl usually turned a bright copper color. The way the mana behaved was unlike anything I had ever seen before. The way the Frieda cast the spell was unlike any way I had ever seen a spell cast. There were no runes involved, just a brief surge of mana, and then she moved on to the next young boy or girl.
I watched as Canary, Cow, Steer, and Rabbit all took their turns getting their status. Each one of them looked ecstatic when they got to look at their statistics for the first time. And the aura that surrounded Rabbit turned Silver, before disappearing. I was tempted to go down and join them as they chose their adult names and to celebrate with them, but somehow I didn¡¯t feel like it, so I quietly slipped out a back door and into the night. ??
Chapter 25 - Moving on
As I left the building, I kept thinking that the glowing sphere that they used to give the status was something I needed to take a better look at. So instead of going home, I walked around the building, looking for alternative entrances.
It didn¡¯t take long to find a window three floors up a sheer wall, and another low roof that looked like there might be access to the insider from on top of it. I circled the entire building four times just to make sure, trying very hard not to look obvious about my interest.
I also broke into a tailor shop and stole some badly fitting black clothing. I made sure that I picked out multiple layers and something to wrap my hands and face. One drop of blood with what I was trying to do and I would be found out. I needed to be especially careful.
One of these days I would have to look into learning some blood magic. It was close enough to life magic that I should be good at it. From what I knew of blood magic, with a drop of someone¡¯s blood you could find them anywhere in the world. It was like primitive DNA analysis mixed with auras and magic. I felt that because there were just too many ways to track me and the older I got, the more obvious, it was that I needed ways to hide.
Then at around two in the morning, I headed back to the House of Status. I moved through the darkness of the night silently, avoiding the few crowds that were still moving through the streets. The presence of the necromancer in the city and the superstitious fear of the unknown that the night carried in humans regardless of culture kept the streets clear. In the park, there were scattered warming fire as people slept in fitful and guarded groups.
I moved through a night that was as shallow and empty as an inquisitor¡¯s remorse. Making my way to a tree, one of the bigger ones that still hadn¡¯t been cut down for kindling by bands of teenagers seeking to keep back the darkness, and I climbed up into its branches until I was high enough to have a clear view of the roof of House of Status.
Using the shadow knack that I still didn¡¯t understand fully, I moved into that strange world of light and darkness. The world took on the appearance of harsh tones like a tonal drawing made by Cont¨¦ crayon covered in encaustic wax. It was night and spaces of light were rare. But the shadow gradients of the darkness took on a smell, a taste all their own. Here all my scenes were attuned to the darkness. This parallel world was a synesthesiac¡¯s paradise or nightmare.
In an instant, I had moved from the tree branch I was hanging from to the roof of the House of Status and had stepped out of the realm of darkness. There was a door a short walk away. Looking over the door carefully with my mana sight, I did not see any visible spells or alarms. This meant nothing.
I tried to push my mana scene outward to the other side of the door and somehow managed to do so. There was indeed a spell on the other side of the door, but being able to sense the spell and being able to read a spell cast on the opposite side of a wooden door enough to maybe unravel it were two entirely different things.
I had brought a piece of metal, the closest thing I could find lying around to a crowbar, that I¡¯d found for just this purpose, but I didn¡¯t want to use it quite yet. Instead, I did a quick survey of the entire roof. There were no windows. All my shadow knack seemed to need was a line of sight, and then I could move through the intervening space in an instant.
I went back to the door and was about to pry open the door. I was sure to set off the alarm on the other side of the door, but if I moved quickly¡
Then it occurred to me, all I needed was a line of sight. Sensing the ward on the other side of the door, I still could not tell what it did, but I could tell where it was not. The rune was only on the door and slightly around it.
Putting an enormous amount of strength into my arms and hands, toughening up my hands until they were as hard as carbon steel. Increasing my speed a dozen-fold. I didn¡¯t use up all of my overflows. I specifically kept enough to get back into the world of shadows and a little bit more. Then in one second, I began to hit a section of the rock near the door with my improvised crowbar, repeatedly like a jackhammer. In the one second that I had, I managed to dig a tiny opening into the wall. It was just a fraction of an inch in circumference. More peephole than anything else. But it was enough.
I put my eye to the hole. There was nobody in the hallway. Either the sound of my digging through the granite had set everyone on their guard, or I was safe. I was hoping for the second option, but even if the first was true, even if my loud hammering had alerted everyone in the city, I needed to take my chance.
Flashing into the shadow, I moved through the tiny hole in the wall and into the hallway. I stayed as long as I could in the shadow filling myself up to the brim with the chaotically monochrome mana here. Then I stepped back into the night of the hallway. I was inside the House of Status.
The place where I stood seemed to be used mostly for maintenance. Who knows. Maybe the Naming and Status order needed to get on their roof to retrieve this world¡¯s equivalent of lost tennis balls and Frisbees. More than likely though, it the purpose for this door was to make fixes the roof, shovel snow, or even for the administrators to look out over the city. Maybe some Twice-Lived, living in a far away safe city was right now introducing the concept of rooftop patios and roof gardens.
I wrapped myself in my the spells of hiding that I had learned in the forest. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me¡± blasting out in every direction. Slowly I crept forward and then down the stairs.
The area that I was in was devoted to administration and offices. In one room there was a library, and I stopped long enough to browse through the books, touching nothing. There were at four spell books on blood magic. They were beyond advanced. The people who ran the House of Status specialized in blood magic since everything to do with identification, names, status screens had to do with blood and identity. There was bound to be information in these books that I could find nowhere else. So, I put the grimoires aside but did not take them with me. If I came back this way I would consider nabbing them, but right now they would only weigh me down.
About twenty minutes later of testing random doors and searching, I found the amphitheater where I had spent so much time. The mysterious orb was still there. Still crackling with energy. Still giving off a sense of power.
Slowly I made my way forward. I had passed two security guards in my searching, but cloaked in the night, bound in spells like I was, they did not see me, and I had passed them by as they listlessly passed the time. Still, even though I was almost positive I hadn¡¯t been discovered, I wanted to draw a minimal amount of attention to me, so I moved slowly, quietly, and kept blasting out the runic spells that made me even more hidden.
On the stage, right next to the podium and giant orb that bestowed statuses, I opened myself fully to Mage Sight. The orb was encased in runes that were more complicated than any I had seen before. I began to trace them with my eyes, trying to decipher what they did. They moved in intricate patterns around the surface of the sphere. I saw all of the affinities represented.
Over the course of an hour, I did not move from where I stood. Simply gazing into the intricacy of the spellwork that was in front of me. This was beyond anything I had seen before. It was beautiful and powerful, and as my eyes followed the patterns, I became more and more convinced of one thing. It was something subtle.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine out of a thousand mages wouldn¡¯t have noticed it. I wouldn¡¯t have seen it myself except for the quirk of fate that had made me a Twice-Lived and brought with me experiences from elsewhere that let me interpret objects and behavior in ways a person with memories only from this empire might not.
The patterns of intricacy, the spell work, the brilliant use of runes, all of the power coursing around the orb. All of it was bull-shit.
I couldn¡¯t be sure at first. Runes seemed to lead into places where the magic changed. Power seemed to flow in odd directions when it shouldn¡¯t. There were empty places if you looked hard enough. And more importantly, there were places where, faint traces of that magic that I had only seen the barest traces of up until now, was present.
No, this orb of power was simply a glass sphere that was a shell. It was underneath that shell where the real magic lay. Already in places, I could see things that looked suspiciously like mana switches and mana circuits. They were hidden. Really well hidden. Just present enough to activate when the Woman who bestowed status¡¯ somehow activated them. Though how that could be was beyond me. This discovery went against everything I had come to understand about magic.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
It was near four thirty in the morning. I needed to get out of there. Soon this room would be filled with a rush of people demanding to have their place in the Empire revealed and their statics uncovered. In the darkness I turned and made my way out of the building, only stopping long enough to pick up the books from the library that I had left behind earlier.
On the streets, I could not make my way back to the inn. It was still too dangerous. I moved in a random direction into the city. Towards the richer part of town. Well, away from the House of Status I saw an older man heading home from somewhere late at night. Moving in the darkness close to him, I cast the very first spell I had ever learned and caused him to relax so much he fell asleep. Dragging him into an alleyway, I stole all of his clothing and changed my appearance to something completely different than Potato who I had been disguised as all night.
Then I set out in a random direction. Equally jumping through the shadow world from alley to alley, as I casually walked and tried to blend inconspicuously into my surroundings.
I did this three more times. Each time changing my clothes and my appearance. Staying out of sight as much as possible. My path took me all over the city, and I was careful to burn the clothing I left behind in various fires I either made or found along the way. In an alley near the furthest gate from my Inn, I hid the books I had stolen underneath some rubbish.
It was six in the morning by the time I made back to the inn. By the time, I harnessed my skills and my knack to travel through shadows to its fullest and made my way into my room hopefully undiscovered. I packed all of my gear just in case I still needed to leave quickly.
I didn¡¯t sleep. I lay on my bed reading from my book of healing spells. Nervous energy coursing through me. Someone had gone to great lengths to hide the true function of that sphere. I couldn¡¯t concentrate, but I still managed to learn a spell that was guaranteed to prevent hemorrhoids. And another that caused livestock to breed out of season.
A few hours later I hear an angry stomping up the stairs. My breath caught in my throat, and I grabbed my pack and gear and opened the tiny window, ready to shoot through the shadow world to a patch of darkness on a rooftop three building¡¯s down.
But the stomping footsteps did not stop at my door. Instead, they pounded on a door down the hallway. Wilmette¡¯s door.
¡°Wilmette we need to talk now. Alone.¡± Lord Er said in Cretan as he pounded again on the door.
Wilmette¡¯s door opened, and he must have seen the anger in Lord Er¡¯s face or sensed his tone because the next words I heard him say were, ¡°Bitches Leave!¡± followed by a silent tromp of female feet going down the stairs.
Then I did something I had been avoiding doing for the entire time I had been in the city. I actively tried to listen to what was being said in his room. There was a wooden door that went between our room, and the walls though made out of wood and stone were thin. I pressed my ear up against the wooden door and listened.
Lord Er must have closed the door behind him.
¡°Get out of my city,¡± Lord Er said in a barely controlled fury.
¡°Me?¡± said Wilmette in innocence.
¡°Someone committed high treason last night. I can¡¯t tell you what they did, and I don¡¯t know who they worked for. We have images. Nothing definitive. Nothing concrete yet. We managed to trace his movements before he entered the building. We have his associates, and they are being questioned now. But as of now, the Necromancer has been captured. Reason enough to explain all my inquisitors moving around. There will be a public execution of the Necromancer later today. DO YOU HEAR ME. THERE WILL BE A PUBLIC EXECUTION OF THE NECROMANCER THIS AFTERNOON. SO GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY CITY.¡±
By the end of his monologue, Lord Er was yelling at Wilmette.
A few minutes later. There was a much more controlled knock on my door. I hesitate but then opened it. I was at full power, and my mana was overflowing. Worst case, I could grab my stuff and be out on the streets in a seconds time.
I opened the door for Lord Er.
¡°Lynx Elm. I don¡¯t know if you heard any of that. I am sorry to have to take your mentor away from you, but it is well past the time that he be back in his vagabond life. You are of course welcome to stay as long as you would like. Stop by my manor whenever you would like. I see you are reading ASA¡¯s book on healing. Few healers delve that deep into the arts. It is more folk spells than power. If you are interested, I have a fully stocked library that you can peruse at your leisure.¡±
¡°Is there trouble in the city?¡± I asked.
¡°Nothing for you to worry about. Just between you and I, a sanctum was breached that is of such importance to the Empire that were my own children to be there unwelcome I would have to put them on to the rack. Examples must be made. The Perpetrator must be hunted down. It is the duty of an inquisitor. Sometimes it is unpleasant but always necessary. You will understand this someday as you move forward in the order.¡±
¡°I understand my Lord Er,¡± I said. ¡°I think I may purchase a horse and make my way to my next duty. With my new name and Wilmette gone, there is nothing keeping me. Your kind offer to browse your library is appreciated though. And I will definitely take you up on that the next time I am in the city.¡±
¡°Your fidelity to your duty does you credit Lynx Elm. Travel fast and travel sure and may the Twice-Lived burn.¡± Lord Er said, and then he turned and walked away.
I waited an hour or so in my room, ready to bolt at a moment¡¯s notice. I overheard Wilmette try to argue with his lady friends about a refund since he had to leave early. He didn¡¯t seem to make much headway.
Finally, I went out into the city dressed in my travel clothes and found a place where I could buy a horse and saddle. I argued for a while and eventually settled on a price of 73 silver pieces rather than the full gold the person who ran the livery was asking for.
On the way back I passed by the location where I had left the books on blood magic and gathered them from their hiding place, putting them in a saddlebag, after making sure that nobody was watching the alley I¡¯d left them in.
Back at the Inn, Wilmette was almost done packing up. The prostitutes were gone. A happy memory for the big man. I grabbed my pack and tied it to the back of my horse. I was about to leave when Wilmette came up beside me.
¡°Good luck, Lynx Elm.¡± He said.
¡°Good luck,¡± I replied.
¡°Will walk with you out of city. Good to be on move again. Not get fat and lazy like city person. Miss forests. Lynx probably miss Gobbles.¡±
I simply sighed.
We made a strange procession as we walked out of the city. Myself on my horse, Wilmette massive but on foot. When we got to the city gates, guards checked every person who walked through. Nobody was allowed to wear hoods, and special care was taken to search the faces of everyone who was either young or small in stature. As I my horse walked through, and I was pulled aside by the guard to search my face, I caught a glance at an etching that the guards were looking and saw an incredibly detailed drawing of Potato standing outside the House of Status looking up at the building.
Once outside the walls, I saw that four massive stacks of wood had been erected. Each stack had a wooden beam standing tall in the center. And a hooded figure had been tied to each post surrounded by kindling piled high. I could smell the odor of the lamp oil that these poor figures had been drenched the wood from here.
There was a crowd that easily numbered over a thousand people gathered around the pyres. Nearly fifty soldiers held the massive crowd back. The soldiers were all armed and ready to fight. There was also at least two dozen archers standing back eying the crowd just in case they got rowdy. And mana streamed off at least ten people interspersed with the troops. Half of the troops wore the uniform of the Inquisitors. The other half wore the uniform of the city guards.
Lord Er stood on top a hastily built stage and began addressing the crowd. ¡°Last night, with hard work and dedication by the Inquisitors, the Necromancer was caught.¡±
The crowd yelled and cheered in ecstasy. They were like Maenads driven into a sacred frenzy by their fear and hatred of the necromancer. If those four distant figures had not been tied to the wooden posts, the crowd would have torn the necromancer and his friends apart and bathed in his blood.
¡°Not only has the Necromancer been killing citizens of this Empire. Last night he dared to invade the House of Status. We think that his purpose was to take take the power of giving statuses away from the people. To deprive each and every one of you of your birthright.¡±
There was angry muttering from the crowd. Then a barrage of stones were thrown from random people at the hooded figures ready to be burnt to death, and the crowd roared as one mob and pushed forward. The only thing that kept the good citizens from rushing the stakes were the soldiers who drove them back.
¡°The necromancer failed, and in the necromancer¡¯s failure, he was captured along with the traitors who were helping him.¡± Lord Er yelled, ¡°Let it not be said that the inquisition does not look after the well being of the citizens of this empire.¡±
Lord Er walked up to the foremost hooded figure. ¡°Behold the face of the Necromancer.¡± He ripped the hood off of the person tied to the wooden stake.
And I saw Potato.
Or rather, as I looked closely I saw a version of Potato that was not Potato. It was as if someone had taken a face and beat it so badly all the bones had been broken, and then a clever healer had come along and forced those broken facial features back into a clever imitation of the Potato I had been last night.
But as I looked, Lord Er was walking onward to the other hooded figures, and one by one removed their hoods. Cow, Steer, and Canary stood, tied to wooden stakes, the bruise marks from a horrible beating they had suffered marked on their body. Their eyes were listless and broken, almost dead. It didn¡¯t even seem as if they were aware of where they were, much less that they were about to die.
Lord Er yelled ¡°The punishment for helping a necromancer is the same for being a necromancer yourself. Fire mages, start the pyres!¡±
Unconsciously, I slid off my horse and was about to use my body knack or fade into the shadow to charge the stage. There were so many of people, so many soldiers, so many mages, but if I could kill the fire mages first, and if I could stay in the shadows long enough I might have a tiny fraction of a chance.
Then just before I could set hell and speed and shadow on the people in front of me, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
I turned, Wilmette was looking at me with compassion. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°Already dead. Lynx just die for no reason. No point. Be strong. Get stronger. Maybe come back. Maybe do better. Nothing else to do now.¡±
I thought about it. Then I thought about it some more. Then pushing as much mana and force and strength into my arm and fist, I slammed Wilmette in the face knocking him back and leaving him in a twisted broken, but unfortunately healing mess by the river.
Then I left the city as a coward.
Chapter 26 - Strawberry Fields
As I stepped into the emperor¡¯s throne room I was oddly focused upon the face of my father standing slightly to the left of the dais. Standing behind me was my ever loyal mathematically masterful battle-cow Betsy. I yelled out ¡°We are all Twice-Lived¡± and pulled out my sword. The emperor and my father started to laugh but there was no sound that came from their laughter and they did not say any words.
I started running towards them, sword drawn, but the more I ran, the more these two men seemed to recede into the distance. I ran harder, and the closer I got,thefurther they seemed to get. Without any other choice I flooded myself with mana, and in a burst of speed that outpaced even the surreal nature of this encounter, I managed to catch up to the fleeing people.
My father and the emperor said nothing as my sword arced backwards and I swung firmly intending to sever my father¡¯s head. But I stopped. A blinding white explosion filled my eyesight but I did not go blind. Other strangely silent explosions repeated all around me.
And I found myself in the room with in the Xa¡¯dar sorting room once again.
¡°We¡¯re sorry to disturb your final confrontation, but unfortunately, we¡¯ve accidentally blown up this planet too. Please prepare to be sorted again.¡± Said the Dragon.
I looked around, Cow Ivy, Steer Ivy, Rabbit Thistle, and Canary Corn all stepped out of the shadows to throw me into a portal to reincarnation and said ¡°Why did you kill us, Potato? Why did you kill us, now we have no chance to become Twice-Lived like you.¡±
The walls started to blur and close in on me, and I awoke¡ ¡and found myself in the room at the inn that I had rented the night before, covered in sweat and shivering in the darkness.
I had been on the road for two weeks, and every night I¡¯d had a similar dream. I was tempted to drink myself to sleep in the village inns which I stopped, but so far I had resisted the temptation. There was still a long distance that I needed to travel before I reached the Argran kingdom¡¯s border with the Magrithiam Empire.
Instead of immediately trying to go back to sleep I read from one of the books on blood magic. As I suspected blood magic was just life magic that was extremely specialized.
I would have to compare a more readily available blood magic book with one of the one¡¯s that I had stolen, but at least from the evidence in front of me, this culture had come up with a pretty advanced concept of DNA. The first half of one of the books I had taken went into exhaustive detail about cellular reproduction, Mitochondrial vs. Nuclear DNA.
There were however massive differences. Thee chapters were devoted to Manacondria and Manaplasts. Theorizing about how they worked. Mentioning experiments being conducted at the headquarters of the order in the capital to change these cellular structures ¡ª trying to give more or take away magic abilities. But most importantly, how to use these organelles to further define someone¡¯s aura and track that individual.
It was engrossing reading. I had taken some biology classes in college back on Earth and was able to keep up with a lot of what had been written. The amount of terms that had been stolen directly from Earth was astounding. There was no way that two disparate cultures would simultaneously come up with the term ¡°Golgi Apparatus.¡±
After a while I grew tired of reading and put the book I was reading back into my pack. I doubted I would be able to sleep. Instead, I closed my eyes and tried to puzzle through what I had learned and what had gotten me to this point.
From the book on blood magic, it was clear that I couldn¡¯t just ¡°vanish.¡± One of the first spells in book detailed a way to take three drops of blood from known people with established locations. Position those individual''s drops of blood on a map. And then use known locations to establisha location of a fourth drop of blood in relation to the other three. A red dot would appear corresponding to the biggest and freshest source of that blood, triangulated by the other three sources.
My blood was on file in so many places. I used it for banking. The Order of the Status had gathered it and filed it in my naming. I¡¯d provided some at my birth. My father undoubtedly had a few drops for his private use.
No, the only way I was going to disappear is if I figured out how to change my blood right down to the cellular level, or if I found a way in these books to block people from scrying me.
The sky was rainy and overcast when I checked out of the inn. A wind blew in and carried with it the smell of petrichor. My horse was reluctant to leave the warm dry comfort of the stables, and had to be coaxed out with an apple and some sugar. I pulled my waxed cotton overcoat tighter around me, and set off down the road again.
The road was very wet, and every half hour or so the skies would open up, and the rains would fall. Sometimes the wind picked up the rain and whipped it through the air like a projectile.
My horse whinnied as it daintily stepped over a puddle. After a couple of hours of travel, I decided that I would stop at the next inn. Today would be a short day, that would be better spent sitting indoors aroud a fire.
The problem was that unlike the highway system of earth, there wasn''t a convenient hotel at every offramp. There weren''t even offramps. In all likelihood, unless I were very lucky, I would probably have to spend the night outside.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
There was a bend in the road up ahead where the path that I was on followed a stream for a bit. The water in the stream had risen and was brown from churned up dirt and fast moving. A short way down, someone had built a bridge, which meant some sort of civilization was near by. If this area was truly wild, the road that I was following would simply meander until there was a shallow enough place for merchant wagons to ford.
Sure enough about a mile after the river, there was a little farming village with about six houses. There was even a building that was marked off with the Lantra iconography for Inn and a stable for my horse.
By now the wind and the rain and the cold were miserable. Nobody was out on the streets, and even the farmers who might have been out fertilizing their crops were indoors.
I tied my horse, that even after all this time I still hadn''t named, to a hitching post in front, grabbed my bags and went inside.
The common room was bright and cheery, and there was afire lit and casting warmth and shadows around the room. About a half dozen men and women sat around at various tables chatting about things that I couldn''t overhear but I assumed had to do with the weather.
"Hello." I said to the Innkeeper. "Terrible weather out there. Glad I found you, I wasn''t looking forward to sleeping under the trees. Do you have a stable for my horse?"
"Of course. I will send the girl out to take care of your animal. I take it you would like a room? And a meal."
"And something to drink, and a place to sit and get warm out of the rain."
After I handed over a few copper pieces and he handed me an oversized iron key for a room upstairs. I went upstairs and changed out my wet clothing and into something dry. I left my books and saddle bags beside the bed and then went back downstairs to get warm.
"¡ain¡¯t shit for wet. Back in ''03 was wet. I remember it rained for 20 days straight, water so deep you had to wade between the houses. Most of us went up to higher ground, but old man Cham Badger Corn he says he wasn''t leaving. We came back after the water''s stopped. Me rowing down the main street in a boat, and there was Cham sitting on his roof in the middle of town fishing¡"
There was a table that was open near the fire and so I sat there. The innkeeper brought me over a mug of beer, some small loaves of bread that had been made in the last day or so, some butter and a plate of a curried goat stew which had been the only thing on the menu.
I sat down and ate while I looked over the room. On the far wall, there was a remarkably beautiful watercolor and ink drawing of the inn. Someone had had training, and I couldn''t imagine anybody in such a small town like this wasting their time on learning such frivolity when there was farming to be done.
One of the farmers came over and sat at my table when I was finishing my food.
"Stranger. Where do you hail from?"
I mentioned Larkin, which I had left three weeks ago.
"Oh. Any news? A boy from here went there for his status ceremony. Heard rumors of a necromancer." Said the farmer.
My face twisted into a look of disgust for a moment, and I was tempted not to say anything. Instead, "Er, the local Lord Inquisitor claims to have solved that. Burnt three people he claims were helping the necromancer."
"Helping a Necromancer! No matter how old I get, people will never stop amazing me how vile they can be." The farmer shook his head. "Burning was too good for them."
Then he stopped and looked at me, "Aren''t you a bit young to be on the roads alone. Got a son around your age. Would never expect to see him this far from home."
"My father has me apprenticing for an officer in the army in the war against the Argran kingdom. Just making my way there."
"Alone?" he said.
"It isn''t like the roads are filled with bandits," I replied. I''d been looking forward to bandits. There was a part of me that enjoyed taking out my anger at the inequities of this world with a little cathartic violence. But the way the status system and freedom points were set up, meant that there were no common bandits in the empire.
The farmer, "there might not be bandits but there are bears and wolves if you are unlucky enough to get near a dungeon, there are monsters. Plus the closer you get to the war, the more chance you will get to run into baby killing enemy soldiers."
"I can handle myself." I said, my hand moving to my sword. Then to change the subject, I pointed to the drawing of the inn that I had noticed earlier on the wall. "That is a marvelous picture. I haven''t seen anything like it outside of some of the manors of the nobles."
The farmer looked over at the picture. It had been drawn and painted on parchment and then framed and mounted behind glass. All of which was extremely expensive and beyond what a small village inn could reasonably afford.
"From how I hear it, some man come through here about 3 years ago now. He stood outside the inn for three days drawing before he left. A couple of weeks later a rider came into town all fancy and on a magnificent horse. The rider is carried a bundle and went into the inn, to give the bundle to the innkeeper. When he opened it up, inside of it was that there pretty picture."
"So the man was a noble?" I said.
"Don''t know that. Didn''t dress like some noble. Man on the horse didn''t dress like some messenger either. It sure is a pretty picture. The innkeeper hung it that day, and refuses to sell it, even though some merchants and passing nobles have offered him gold for it."
I got up from where I was sitting and walked over to the drawing. The detail was fantastic. It was a three by four-foot pen and ink drawing with a watercolor wash over-top, but the ink technique was done in cross hashing rather than as a simple contour line drawing.
My mother would have loved this piece, and I was tempted to make an offer to the innkeeper of several gold, to send it to her. The innkeeper could turn me down, but it was a remarkable drawing.
I was mentally calculating how much I could offer to overcome his resistance when I stopped and took a closer look. Hidden -- oh, so very well hidden -- in the cross-hatching in the lower right-hand corner of the drawing were the words "Find safety in the Strawberry Fields." written in English.
Going back to my table, I asked. "Did the man or the messenger say anything else? Does anybody know where they came from or where they were going. Did they leave anything behind?"
The farmer shook his head. "Nope. He didn''t even talk to anybody when he was in the town except at the inn, and even here he was standoffish. Ordered food and kept to himself."
I nodded.
That night when I went to bed, I wondered where theseStrawberry Fields were and what kind of safety they offered.
Chapter 27 - Into The Mountains
The fertile grassland that I¡¯d been traveling through rose up into the mountains that I had seen for weeks. I¡¯d never seen the Himalayas, but I had biked over the Alps once and often hiked through the Appalachians and Adirondacks, and these towering rock faces put those smaller hills that I had known on Earth to shame.
The road I was on followed the base of the mountains for a few days passing through mining and farming villages in the foothills. These were areas that when the season was right were sometimes cloaked in shadows for extra hours every day as the light of the sun was blocked by titanic sierras of stone.
There were few trees here, and the earth was bare. Unlike in Larkin where the winds were mostly blocked by the Black Granite Mountain which sheltered the city from the ravages of the weather, here the mountains acted like a wind tunnel concentrating and buffering the breeze sometimes into hurricane force Chinook gales that ripped across the land.
Eventually, I reached the place which, according to the people I asked and the maps I looked at during my trip, was the pass through the mountains. This was my destination.
At the base of the pass was a town and a fort, where I spent the night in a comfortable inn. And in the morning I got dressed up in my Inquisitor uniform and presented myself to the commanding officer of the fort.
¡°Seeker Lynx Elm reporting and asking permission to enter the pass,¡± I said.
¡°Sheet. A little young to be a seeker aren¡¯t you?¡± The commander said.
¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m the first seeker I¡¯ve ever met.¡± Which was true. There had been seekers at my house that had helped my father, and they¡¯d generally been older. Sixteen or Seventeen. But technically I had never been introduced to any of them.
¡°Do you even have access to your status? How can you expect to go into battle without access to your status? It boggles the mind.¡±
¡°My maturing day was a couple of weeks ago,¡± I admitted. ¡°Still my orders are clear. I am to join up with the main force and seek a Lord General Aram Heron Sequoia.¡±
¡°Aram¡¯s a good woman. I just don¡¯t see the point of sending a kid into a battle zone. Why don¡¯t I write to your commanding officer to have you stationed here? You can drill with my troops and help me guard the border for a few years. You¡¯ll get a bit of experience, watch a fight or two; it would be good for you. Now that I think of it let me know who you report to, and I will write a letter right now.¡±
He pulled out some stationary, and a pen then looked expectantly at me.
¡°While I thank you for your consideration, from my experience, I seriously doubt my father Knight General Harrion Wolverine Oak would take kindly to me being garrisoned away from ¡®a learning experience¡¯ as he would put it.¡±
The commander put away his paper and pen. ¡°Well ain¡¯t that the fuck. I¡¯ve never met your father, but I¡¯ve heard he is a stern man. I don¡¯t envy you. You should know that there is at least one Pyromancer up there. I don¡¯t suppose you are fire-proof, are you? We are constantly losing troops. Good troops. Experienced troops. It is no place for a boy.¡±
¡°I hadn¡¯t been aware it was so dangerous. I admit I don¡¯t know anything about where I¡¯m going or what I¡¯m getting into.¡± I said.
¡°Shit son. Of course, we keep this situation quiet. We¡¯ve been fighting Argran more off than on for nearly a hundred years, and have shit to show for it. They have effectively managed to stop the Empire every time we take to the field.¡±
¡°How?¡± I asked.
¡°Dungeon Cores, son. Dungeon Cores. Argran is a shit poor kingdom. But they¡¯ve got the city-state of Hisop backing them, and everyone knows the free city of Hisop has a primordial dungeon sitting under their pretty little feet. Hisop don¡¯t want the Empire at their doorstep, so they provide just enough cores and trained mages to their next-door neighbor Argran to keep the Empire out.¡±
This was a new concept to me. ¡°A primordial dungeon? I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever heard of one of those.¡±
The commander got up from behind his desk and walked to the window to look out over the field of soldiers training below.
¡°I don¡¯t hold much with religion. Too much craziness, not enough sense my old man used to say. But one of the crazier religions that I hear is going around has it that people weren¡¯t always here. According to this kooky gospel humans were once a kind of goblin, and millions of years before that maybe a kind of squirrel. Supposedly we ¡®evolved.¡¯ Whatever that means.
He turned away from the window and faced me.
¡°A primordial dungeon is a dungeon that is so old, it older even than people. I¡¯ve heard tell that if you got a really powerful adventuring team. I mean top notch, and even then are willing to lose most of the team as you dive deep enough into the dungeon in Hisop you can find floors where there are nothing but giant lizard-like creatures. If you manage to get even deeper, according to wizards who scry out these things, there are entire floors underwater with nothing but crabs and slime.
¡°There are even some crazy Gnomes that think that all life began in Hisop. That all of us, you and I, are just descendants of monsters that managed to escape the Hisop dungeon.¡±
I thought about it for a bit.
¡°I¡¯ve been in a dungeon. Well technically two, maybe. I think. One in the wild with my ex-mentor that people said was around 75 years old, and in the mountain in Larkin, which I¡¯m not sure if it counts or not. What¡¯s the big deal about the one in Hisop that makes them so powerful.¡± I said.
¡°Shit son, at your age, you ain¡¯t messing around. I¡¯d like to give your ex-mentor a piece of my mind, taking a boy into a dungeon. But what¡¯s done is done.
¡°To answer your question. It¡¯s the core that matters. One core really powerful core is like a million swords.
The Commander sat down in his chair behind his desk.
¡°A mage can use a core to store mana, or a spell, or a group of spells. A core is the only way to permanently add magic to something. Even works if you grind the core up into dust. Some of the best swords have core dust in the metal. If you got some mind magic, you can overpower the smarts of a core force it to be the brains in a permanent enchantment. If the core is old enough to have some wild magic, then anybody holding that core can use that knack.
¡°And that¡¯s the reason why Argran can keep the might of the empire out year after year. That primordial dungeon in Hisop has thousands of smaller dungeons hidden in it. Some of the dungeons, if you go deep enough are thousands or tens of thousands of years old and even have dungeons of their own inside of them.
¡°Hisop trains harvesting teams almost from birth to go into the dungeon and retrieve cores. They have mages dedicated to scrying hidden sections of a dungeon to gather, identify and catalog every bit of information possible before the adventuring team goes in. They have construction Mages who build exact mockups of the places where the adventuring team will go, and summoners who can bring forth the exact creatures the adventuring team will face.¡±
The commander looked at me directly as if imparting something important. Then he looked away.
¡°Unlike our Empire that just farms Cores until they are 10 or 15 years old, or has groups wandering the countryside hoping to get lucky and find a dungeon. Hisop has a multitude of dungeons right underneath their feet. And even before any Hisop teams goes in on a dive, they will have spent six months, memorizing and fighting every possible encounter that they are likely to face. And they do it over and over until their execution is flawless.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
¡°Hisop has a wealth of cores. Which is why the Empire wants to take them over. They know it, and we know it. Which is why Hisop, gives the kingdom Argran enough cores and money to keep the Empire out. Argran is their buffer nation.¡±
¡°Right now there is a one mother fucking Pyromancer that we know of. And probably five or six cored up users we don¡¯t know of.¡±
¡°Of course, our Empire undoubtedly has three or four cored users up there too. Maybe even someone with a knack or two, though I doubt it. It makes the front an explosive area to be. The one Pyromancer that we know about is bad enough, but if people start coming out of the shadows and begin throwing all that power around, all hell can break loose. Whole divisions lost in instants.¡±
¡°Right now it is pretty much a stalemate, but if someone gets nervous, who knows what shit will go down.¡±
I thought about it for a while. The Commander seemed like a reasonable person. But in reality, I didn¡¯t have any choice. Until I could figure out how to hide from the scrying eyes of whoever was looking for me until I could decide if it was safe to get status magic, until I could break away from my Father and this Empire, my path had been chosen long ago.
¡°I don¡¯t think I have much of choice. But thank you for the information and the warning.¡± I said.
¡°Your funeral.¡± The Commander shrugged. ¡°I hate to see it in someone who has such promise, but not much I can do if you insist on rushing into the shit storm up ahead.¡±
That night I slept in the battalion¡¯s barracks, and the morning I ate in the mess with the troops. The food was simple and filling.
There was nobody to see me off in the morning. The guards at the gate into the pass handed me some paper and said ¡°Sir, the Commander thought you would need these. It is permission to be in the pass. He also said you should keep your uniform on at all time.¡±
¡°Thank you,¡± I said. And started riding up the incline. The walls here had been carved out of the stone. Sheer sheets of metamorphic rock dozens of feet high in places. While this must have been a natural path, Earth mages must have expanded it over the centuries. Flattening and widening the path first for wagon travel, and then eventually for the rapid movement of troops.
Built into the rock face in places there were towers and turrets, and even choke points and fortifications. On the first day through the pass, I was stopped three times at walled fortresses and asked to present the papers I¡¯d been given earlier that morning.
I slept that night in another barracks and began making my way through the mountains again the next day. The path rose steadily, and the air became thinner. Two more days passed, and I passed through eight more towering fortresses. There was a slow trickle of supplies and mule trains moving up and down the road and every once in a while I would spot a wary goat high up in the cliffs or a raptor flying overhead.
I did stop a few times to collect some plants that I¡¯d only read about in Petunia¡¯s books. Herbs that clung to the sides of the cliff faces, feeding off the rain and occasional spring.
But for the most part, the trip was lonely and desolate. Rock chips and dirt and even bare expanses of stone for miles on end mixed with lichen and patches of grass in places.
At long last, the pass opened up into a mountainous valley that had probably once been verdant and fertile but was now crisscrossed with trenches, muck and barbed wire. There was fire burning everywhere, especially focused down the center of the valley. And sometimes fresh gouts of flame burst white hot in random places along the line of fire.
There was yet another fortress at the entrance to the valley. This time the biggest I¡¯d seen since the one days ago when I¡¯d talked to the commander.
At the main gates to the fortress, I presented my papers and was ushered up to Lord General Aram Heron Sequoia¡¯s waiting room. Where I sat.
And sat.
And sat.
Three hours later an aid came out and said that the general didn¡¯t have time to see me that day and could I come back first thing the next day. I agreed and was led to the mess hall and then to the local barracks which was much bigger than any of the ones I had seen so far.
After I dropped my gear off in the footlocker of the cot which had been assigned to me, I took a quick tour of the fortress. Or at least as much of a tour of the areas where I was permitted to go.
From a barbican facing into the valley, I could get a clearer picture of the entire battle. Looking around me I saw that there were similar observation platforms where I could see officers standing and pointing at various things.
Every once in a while a young boy around my age or maybe a little older would run through the gates and down into the valley. Or one would run back up from the valley. And head into the fortress keep.
Other than the runners and clusters of people gathered in semi-permanent camps well back from the trenches, there wasn¡¯t a lot of movement down below, though I could see lots and lots of people. Too many people for me to count.
As I looked across the valley, I saw another fortress on the Argran side blocking their exit from the valley. It too was hewn out of the raw blocks of mountainous rock and looked massive and imposing.
Down below I found a makeshift hospital with wounded soldiers and seeing that I didn¡¯t have anything to do for the rest of the day, I went over to one of the medics on duty.
¡°Excuse me,¡± I said.
¡°Look I¡¯m busy kid. If you have a message, leave it over on my desk. I will get to it eventually.¡±
¡°Ummm¡ No. I just got here and haven¡¯t been assigned to anything yet.¡±
¡°And¡¡± he said impatiently and not paying me any attention.
¡°Well, I was thinking that I know some healing spells and some basic herbalism. I was just wondering if you needed any help. I have to report to Lord General Aram Heron Sequoia tomorrow morning, but for the next little bit I¡¯m free.¡±
The medic turned and looked at me. Thought for a bit. Then looked at me again.
¡°We don¡¯t try to use a lot of spellcasting here. But if you want to waste the mana go to it.¡± He gestured to a soldier that was lying wrapped in bandages in bed.
The way he said it seemed like a test somehow, so I was curious about his reply and decided to see where this went.
I extended my life energy into the soldier and discovered that he was a she. There were burns all over her body, and her consciousness had been magically separated from the pain in her body and put into a happy place.
As I probed her body with my spells, I discovered that I could indeed heal her, but doing so would take nearly a quarter of my mana supply. The damage was simply too extensive.
But I saw that she had been stabilized by magic, and healing ointments and slow, mana efficient spells had been used on her. She would heal, but instead of healing in minutes like I had been taught, it would take her days, maybe even weeks to be fully recuperated.
¡°Why?¡± I said.
¡°Look around. This is just the first floor.¡± Said the medic.
I looked around and saw that the woman I had been probing with my spells was not the only person in the room wrapped in blankets. There were at least a hundred motionless bodies lying in beds and I could sense fire damage and smell burnt flesh everywhere.
¡°We have ten mages here with enough training in life magic to heal the army below. None of us have a healing knack. As far as I know, there hasn¡¯t been one of those in the Empire in over two hundred years. After a battle sometimes we will have nearly 300 wounded barely holding on to their lives. And some battles last for days. If we all used up all our mana casting healing magic, we would be able to save maybe twenty or thirty people before all of us mages fell over exhausted.
¡°Instead, we stabilize, we take away the pain, and we heal slowly. A lot of us have even become proficient with surgery. We go in with a knife, use as little mana as possible to target heal the very worst wounds, and then let the body heal itself the rest of the way.¡±
¡°Still go ahead and heal Clissa here. I want to see what skills you have.¡±
I nodded. Everything he said made sense. So I began forming the runes for healing and burns and the whole body and then sent them into the woman we were standing over¡¯s body. While I couldn¡¯t see it happening, because her body was so well wrapped in band-aids, flakes of burnt skin began to fall off as newly grown flesh formed. To my mage sight, her life energies began to replenish while the death energies which had been present but kept at bay by the hospitals spells, withered and shrunk.
The medic nodded. ¡°If Lord General Aram Heron Sequoia doesn¡¯t have a use for you, I certainly can think of one.¡± He held out his hand and said ¡°Tilde Jackalope Treant.¡±
And I shook his hand and said ¡°Lynx Elm.¡±
He nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sure you are exhausted, if not from the healing then from your travels. Feel free to stop in at any time.¡±
I left the hospital room of the fortress and found my way back to the barracks. It was getting late and the night sky was dark and filled with stars. Mage lights attached to the walls lit up the courtyard making it easy to see where I was going and driving away the shadows.
Passing by the gate, I looked down into the valley and in the dark of the night sky I saw flames like missiles periodically shooting across the sky from the Empire side of the battlefield, and gouts of fire coming from the Argran side.
Tomorrow would be interesting.
Chapter 28 - Runners
I woke up with reveille the next morning, and after washing, dressing, and eating with the rest of the troops, I made my way to the General¡¯s office, announced myself to his aide and took my place where I had sat for so long the day before.
Three hours later I was still waiting. Several other people had come and gone. Usually, they had been ushered in almost as soon as they had arrived. Still, I sat. The room didn¡¯t even have magazines. Eventually, when I started to get fidgety, the aide popped his head into the waiting room and said to me, ¡°The Lord General will see you.¡±
I followed the aide into the room he indicated and saw a woman in a well decorated military uniform sitting behind the desk paging through a sheaf of papers. I stood waiting for her, but she didn¡¯t give me any indication that she had even noticed my entry.
Eventually, after about five minutes, she looked up and said, ¡°Squire Lieutenant Lynx Elm. I will be honest. I am not a fan of the Inquisition. I don¡¯t like what they do, and I don¡¯t like how they do it. I have met your father on numerous occasions, and I have to admit I don¡¯t like him either.
¡°From these missives, he has sent me he has spoken highly of you. This would not be a point in your favor. Then I remembered how manipulative the son of a bitch can be. And realized that since he is so well aware of my dislike for him and how much my dislike would be transferred over to a son he¡¯d given such glowing recommendations, that I realized your father had undoubtedly taken these factors into account as he wrote to me.
¡°As a result, I have decided against my better judgment, to give you the benefit of the doubt. It helps that our head surgeon Tilde speaks so highly of you. Most Seekers from my experience would not bother healing the wounded, even if they could do so. So that is a mark in your favor.¡±
¡°If I had my way, I would simply give your command to Tilde. We could use another capable healer, but you are an Inquisitor, and as such you must be assigned to do Inquisitor things, I suppose.¡±
¡°That said, I would not knowingly put any soldier under my command, directly under the influence of Lord Samdi the local Lord Major of the Inquisitor who has been assigned to us. He is¡ unsavory at best.
¡°As a result, your duties are to be a runner. You will report to Lord Cham who is in charge of the runners, and he will assign you a berth, and give you duties. If you would like to help with healing, I can probably make that happen, but it would mostly be in your r&r hours at first.
¡°One last thing. Don¡¯t eat or drink anything that Lord Samdi gives you. He thinks it¡¯s funny and I¡¯ve lost too many runners that way. As a Seeker, you should be safe, but as a runner, he might be tempted. Frankly, were he under my command I would have court-martialed him and then happily hung him long ago, but you Inquisitors answer only to yourselves. Besides, grudgingly I have to admit, he is useful.¡±
¡°Sanbon my aide will give you directions to Lord Lieutenant Cham. You are dismissed.¡±
Without letting me even say a word Lord General Aram Heron Sequoia¡¯s eyes went back to the papers she had been looking through when I had entered. I stared at her a little bit longer, but then just before I could ask a question, she looked up and said,
¡°I said you are dismissed.¡± Then she went right back to her reading. Without any other choice, I turned and left the room.
Sambon was alphabetizing a stack of papers when I came out of the Lord General Aram¡¯s office. ¡°I was told you could direct me to Lord Lieutenant Cham?¡± I said.
Without looking up from his alphabetizing, he said, ¡°go down five floors to the second sub-basement, Cham is impossible to miss.¡±
¡°Thank you,¡± I said and turned and following his direction, walked down the stairs.
Cham was indeed impossible to miss.
He was a large man ¡ª and that included every stereotype that went along with being large. Big, jolly, hearty, in dire need of blood pressure medication. I was torn between wanted to run over to him and start unclogging his arteries and sitting on his knee and asking him for a pony for Christmas.
Cham sat like the nucleus of an atom at the center of a vast hurling orbiting group of youngsters running to carry the charged particles of messages. To my admittedly untrained eye, it seemed that however, I tried to figure out where a runner was headed, the more uncertain I became about the identity, direction, and methodology of the message bearer. It had to be something more than just the simple perspective of the observer. And there just had to have been a method to Chams madness, because while it seemed like Chaos, it was anything but; whatever was going must have worked at a quantum level, and I got the feeling that if anything broke down in this system, there would be an explosive effect that would be felt around the entire valley.
I walked up to Cham and said ¡°Excuse me. I¡¯m Squire Lieutenant Lynx Elm.¡±
Lord Cham looked at me and ¡°What do we have here. What do we have here? A new boy? No, a Seeker. What does the Inquisition want from me new boy Seeker.¡±
¡°Nothing that I know of, sir. Lord General Aram told to report to you and told me to tell you that I was assigned to be a new runner.¡± I said.
¡°Interesting. Interesting. I have never had a Seeker as a runner. Not sure how to fit you in. You are a Squire Lieutenant you say. Hmmm¡ that could work. We can¡¯t have you running around in Inquisition robes though. What would people say? Ho! Ho! Ho! But we can¡¯t have you completely in Runner clothes either. Let me think. Let me think.
¡°Hmmm. Why don¡¯t you settle in? There is a dorm for the runners through the door over there. Yes, settle in. Find a bed and a locker and a footlocker. The footlockers are locked for privacy. Just put a drop of blood on the seal, and nobody other than you and a blood mage will be able to open it. Ho! Ho! Ho! No need to worry about sneaky runner eyes, rummaging through your possessions.¡±
¡°Thank you,¡± I said, still worrying about the blood magic books that I had stolen and wondered about how often Lord Lieutenant Cham went rummaging through the private items of the people under his command.
¡°You eat in the mess with the soldiers. And as a runner, you have full access to the keep library. All the runners here come from great houses, and many of you want to further your education. Many of you want to get away from your parent. Ho! Ho! Ho! We can help with both goals. There are mages on staff who we can arrange training or lessons, at their convenience. Weapons and fire-wards are very popular subjects, but there are people who can teach you anything from logistics to leadership. As long as you don¡¯t get on anybody¡¯s bad side the sergeant at arms, the officers and the various mages on staff can assist you.¡±
¡°Lord Tilde Jackalope Treant mentioned that he would like me to stop by,¡± I said.
¡°Good! Good! That¡¯s the spirit. Can¡¯t have the runners lounging about. Ho! Ho! Ho!¡±
¡°Now, if you are close to your 16
th birthday, we have a member of the House of Status here who can help you become an adult. Or if you are already an adult and want to change your status, he can help you with that too. Though I have to admit you do seem a bit too young to worry about that.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
¡°Other than that, well¡ you will pick up the rules as you go along. Basically, what you will do is run quickly. I will assign someone to help you for your first few days to show you around. Now¡ as for a uniform¡ what to do, what to do. Maybe an Inquisitor sash? Or a jaunty hat. No that won¡¯t do at all.¡±
I turned to head into the dormitory. Before I had taken five steps, I heard Lord Lieutenant Cham say ¡°One last thing. Whatever you do. Never eat or drink anything that Lord Major Samdi offers you. He likes to play his little tricks, and I am tired of him ruining perfectly good runners. He is an inquisitor, and you are an inquisitor, in the normal way of things, I would imagine you would be safe, but normal is never the way with Lord Samdi.¡±
¡°Hmm¡ now that I think about it¡ if I find out that you are safe, I may have you deal with him exclusively. The other runners don¡¯t like him. Why don¡¯t you keep your Inquisition uniform on for now? Let him identify you as one of his sort. Yes. Yes. The next message I must send to Samdi, you will carry as a runner and one of his kind. Ho! Ho! Ho! That should be fine, fix things.¡±
¡°Thank you. I guess.¡± Not knowing what else to say.
Then I walked into the dormitory. There were thirty cots lined in two rows of 15 with a number painted on the floor in front of each bed and a corresponding number stenciled on each cot.
Six of the cots were filled with boys and girls who were sleeping. And a girl was sitting on her bed reading a book. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m new, mind telling me which beds aren¡¯t being used,¡± I said.
But the girl ignored me.
So I took a closer look at the lockers and saw that for most of them except three the locks were white instead of black. Looked at the locks with my mage sight I saw some of the blood magic runes that I¡¯d been reading about and experimenting with as I traveled. The runes on the white locks seemed to be in a waiting state, and the black locks seemed to be in a completed state.
So I chose a locker with a white lock, carefully put the contents my saddlebags inside and used a knife to slice open a place on my hand to initiate ownership, and then flopped down on the cot.
¡°Hey newbie, I wouldn¡¯t sleep there if I were you.¡± The girl who had been reading said.
¡°Too late now, but why?¡±
"Fox Maple in the cot next to you pussy farts in her sleep. Nobody had any idea a queef could smell that rancid."
"I can''t believe it would be that bad," I said.
"Your funeral. You really an inquisitor?"
"Yup. Not by choice. Father sorta roped me into it."
"Ain''t that the way it goes," she said. "My father was a runner when he was my age in some long forgotten battle, and now he wants me to do it too. Builds character he says. It¡¯ll put hair on your chest. He says. I mean come on. I''m a girl. The last place I want hair is on my chest."
"I don''t suppose you''d be willing to tell me where the library is? Lord Clem mentioned anti-fire wards, and from what I saw riding into the fortress, they might be pretty handy." I said.
"I can do you one better. I''ll show you the basics, and if you are as slow on the uptake as you look, I''ll take you to the library. I''m Red Panda Elm by the way."
"Lynx Elm, and thanks."
"Don¡¯t think just because we share names; I''m gonna do you any favors Lynx."
"I wouldn''t dream of it Red Panda," I said.
For the next hour, Red Panda showed me fire runes and the basics of fire magic. It turns out that I didn''t have much talent with it. Or rather, the theory of the magic was easy. Shielding myself from fire used very similar techniques to healing, you just substituted fire runes and resistance runes for life runes and then added durations. The targeting parts of the body were the same.
What I lacked was much of an affinity for fire. I did the old standby of lighting a cigarette by igniting a flame on my thumb, and I could walk on the beach and very comfortably ward off sunburn, but anything more intense than that and I was useless.
"Well, sucks to be you." Said Red Panda. "Not that it matters, unless you are a top-notch fire mage, the amount of burning that is happening down there, and after a while, any fire wards are essentially pretty much placebos."
"Any really top notch fire mages among the runners?" I asked out of curiosity.
"What? These bozos? Most of them can''t even cast a fart much less a spell. No. Let me restate that Wolf Mulberry is a good earth mage. A bit thick. A bit dull. Boring as fuck. But a good earth mage. I''m the best fire mage among the runners. So what about you?"
"Life Mage. I''m a pretty good healer."
"Frikken useful. Dude give me a buzz. I''ve been on my feet, carrying messages, since three in the morning, and could use a pep in my step. Then I will show you where the library is."
I cast my energizing caffeine spell on her, and she seemed to perk right up.
"You are going to be pop-u-lar once word of that gets around," she said. "Well, I might as well give you the grand tour."
"Back here we have the latrine and showers courtesy of the water mage who helped build this fortress. I hope you aren''t shy because the showers are a communal group thing and some of the other newbies from high houses seem to expect things like privacy and servants catering to their every whim."
"Ummm¡" I said. "I guess I''m fine."
"Just don''t stare at anybody''s junk and you''ll do well. If you got any pervy in ya, people here figure it out real quick."
We walked through the main runner hub. Red Panda waved to Lord Cham and said "Showing the newb around."
"Good. Good." Said Lord Cham. "For the next two days, he is your responsibility. He runs with you, show him around, introduce him to people. Show him how we do things."
Red Panda Elm rolled her eyes and said "Whatever." And then we were walking up the stairs. "Well I guess, you and I are joined at the hip for a little bit longer. Over this way is the mess hall. Everybody in the fortress has different schedules, so there is food available all day. It is hard to get fat as a runner, cuz all we do is run, but if you manage it, they will send you home."
We walked past the mess hall and to another building. "And here it is the grand library." We pushed our way in and entered a room bright from the glow of mage lights on the walls. It was a small room. A man sat at a desk reading a book by the door. The room held maybe a few thousand books.
"We''ve mostly got military history, engineering, genealogies, and spell books in here. If you are into that kind of thing, this is a great resource. If you want poetry or romance, or even agricultural spells, merchant spells, or music spells, you''ve come to the wrong war."
"And we can just take whatever we want," I said.
"One book at a time and Merf here will record what you take and what you bring back. Wave to Lynx Elm, Merf"
The man at the desk by the door glared at Red Panda and said "Lynx Elm? New here?"
"First day, sir."
"Son, don''t call me sir. I work for a living."
"No you don''t Merf, you sit in a Library all day and read books." Shouted Red Panda.
"Shut up Red Panda."
"Shut up Merf."
"Ahem," I said. "Do you have any books on Blood Magic? Or on the wards to protect a home from burglars?" What I wanted was to compare the knowledge that I''d learned from the books I''d stolen to the kind of blood magic knowledge that was in general circulation. It would be good to know the differences.
As for the book on protecting homes from burglars. My skills lent themselves to stealth. After Larkin, I was absolutely sure I would have to break into another building again. Might as well be prepared.
Merf got up and let me to a bookshelf. "These are the books on Life magic we have. These two shelves are about healing; these three are about blood magic, these last two are miscellaneous life spells like detection and wards.
"As for protecting homes from unwanted intrusion. We don''t have anything on that specifically, but we do have a section about wards and locks over here. Though I do have to notify command if someone takes any of these books out. The potential for abuse is too great." Merf said.
"That''s fine. I don''t mind you letting someone know. For now, though I think I will check out a basic book on blood magic. Do you have any recommendations?" I said.
Merf walked back over to the section of books on life magic, and quickly looked over the titles, before pulling one off the shelf and handing it to me. "The people who come here to read about Blood Magic, seem to check this book out more than the others."
"Thank you." I said.
Red Panda and I left the library and headed back to the room where the runners stayed. Just as we were about to go down the stairs, Red Panda turned to me and said.
"One last thing. If any of the runners ask you to play soggy biscuit you really want to join in on the fun." She said and giggled devilishly to herself, and if I hadn''t already lived a lifetime of experience, I might have actually believed her.
Chapter 29 - Into the Valley
As far as I could tell Fox Maple did not queef even once during the night. The only interaction I had with her was that she blushed a red almost as bright as her hair when I introduced myself and refused to speak or even look at me for the rest of the evening.
At half past six in the morning by the giant clock at the entrance to the hall, I felt someone shaking me awake, I rolled over and saw Red Panda standing over me.
"You didn''t set your alarm?"
"Alarm?"
"By the bed." She pointed to a set of knobs that I had wondered about the night before. "You turn the dials to the time you want to wake up, and when the time comes something jabs you in your sleep until you wake up."
"Really?"
"Nah, the bed just shakes. Now hit me with some of your magic mojo, this girl''s gotta have a pep in her step. Then get ready. I''ll meet you in the mess. If you don''t hurry, you''re gonna be late."
¡°Should I wear my sword?¡± I asked.
She shrugged and said, ¡°If you want. This is a war after all. And it isn¡¯t like you are a completely awesome fire mage like me.¡±
I got up and got dressed really quickly. There really wasn''t enough time to take a shower, so I just threw on my uniform and did some quick grooming. Then I went to the mess hall to find Red Panda stuffing her face full of food.
"Careful or you''ll forget to breathe," I said sitting beside her before starting to eat from my own bowl of oatmeal that the cook had included some sort of dried fruit.
¡°Mmm mmm mmm.¡± She said, which its own way sounded about as reasonable as anything she¡¯d said so far.
I hurried through my own food. For military food it was actually good, though I was eating with the officers, I couldn¡¯t imagine what the regular soldiers ate. When we were both done, we shuttled our dirty dishes to a cart that had been set up to hold them and then Red Panda led me out of the hall.
¡°Today I¡¯m gonna just show you around.¡± Red Panda said to me. ¡°You already know where the Mess and the Library is. I assume you know where the Lord General is since you had to report to her when you got here, so if you want we can skip all that. Since you got that sword, let¡¯s go to the practice yard. A lot of the other runners like to drill there.¡±
We set off at a run across the compound to a part of the keep that had been set aside for weapon work. There was an armory and easy access to the barracks and the ramparts. It was still early morning, but unexpectedly a man was working through sword katas. Every motion was smooth and flowed gracefully from one move into the next.
I could have stood and watched him practice for hours because I was learning and improving my sword skills even from watching his slow, graceful movements, but of course, Red Panda would have none of that. At first, she coughed to try to get his attention. Then she started throwing small rocks. Then bigger rocks. I had to stop her before she began prying stones out of the keep walls to chuck at him.
Eventually, when the man finished his Kata and sheathed his sword, he turned to Red Panda at first in anger and then seeing who it was, in a combination resigned acceptance and humor.
¡°Red Panda, how many times have I told you to wait for me to finish,¡± he said.
¡°We have a newbie, Orr. Just wanted to introduce you. If I let you, you¡¯d just keep going on and on, and nobody would ever get any work done. Orr this is Lynx.¡±
Orr sighed, ¡°Let¡¯s try this again. I am Lord Captain Orr Ocelot Fir, I also occasionally train the runners in sword work. Lastly, I appreciate not being disturbed this early in the morning since this is my only free time to practice on my own.¡±
¡°My name is Lynx Elm. Technically I am Seeker Squire Lieutenant Lynx Elm. I just got here yesterday. I would love to be able to train with you. My training for the last year has not focused on finesse.¡±
¡°And what has your training focused on Lynx Elm?¡±
¡°Honestly¡ killing people as quickly as possible.¡± I said.
He looked at me. Then said. ¡°Let me see your sword.¡±
I unstrapped it and handed it to him. ¡°It¡¯s a new blade, I¡¯ve never used it in combat yet. I broke my last one.¡±
Orr unsheathed it and looked it over. ¡°It is a good blade. Dungeon core dust is in the metal. Not a very powerful grade of core, but still...¡± He sheathed my blade and handed it back to me. ¡°Put it down over there and grab a practice sword. I already have my own.¡±
There was a rack of wooden practice swords. Testing them one by one until I found one with a balance I liked, I left my own sword in the stand and cautiously walked back to Captain Orr. I raised my wooden blade into a defensive position.
¡°You indicated that you have been trained to kill people as quickly as possible. Show me.¡±
¡°But I would like to learn more precision swordplay,¡± I said.
¡°Show me what you can do first.¡± He said.
So I attacked, I sent my sword blade flying at his chest and at the last second sent a kick to knock his feet out from under him. He managed to block my blade with his own and avoid my kick, but I stayed balanced and dodged his retaliatory sword strike by hitting it aside with my own practice sword.
I still had mana so I dumped a bunch into speed and strength and flew at him trying to get under his defense, strike after strike, in random directions, and with as much unpredictability as I could manage, but it didn¡¯t matter. Even though I was going about the speed of an Olympic athlete, he managed to match me and beat me back.
As my second of speed wore down, I tried to move backward to circle him until I could power up again, but he followed me, still going at a blazing pace, even matching me at my fastest and I couldn¡¯t keep up. With three quick strokes to my head, chest and legs knocked me to my knees.
I lay on the ground dazed for a second, before sending a wave of healing runes through my body and healing the concussion I¡¯d gained.
Lord Captain Orr held out his hand to me and said, ¡°Not bad. Not great but not bad. Your form needs some work. But I can see how the fighting style works for you. You¡¯re more of a brawler than a precision fighter. And if I had to make an educated guess, I would say that you have some sort of a body knack too.¡±
I reached up for his hand assuming he wanted to help me up. It was then that I felt a mass of my stored mana rush through my body, up my arm and into him through my hand. I hurriedly pushed his hand away.
Captain Orr smiled. ¡°I¡¯m a Ghoul,¡± he said. ¡°I can take life energy and mana from anybody I make skin contact with. I also have a minor body knack for speed, strength, and fortitude.¡±
¡°Now, I am assuming that you aren¡¯t a Ghoul. But that brings us to a problem. You have a body knack, and sometimes minor body knacks are accompanied by life knacks. Ghouls are tolerated by society. Sort of. But most life knacks are not.
¡°Let¡¯s just assume between, you, young Red Panda here and me that you do not have a life knack since, frankly, I am not in the business of outing anybody. But let me set you straight on one thing. If you start feeding on any of my soldiers, I will hunt you down and kill you.
Captain Orr punctuated his last statement with a ferocious glare. Then he pulled out a pair of gloves from a pocket, put them on and offered me a hand to help me up.
When I was on my feet, Captain Orr said, ¡°Now let¡¯s talk about your Body Knack. How much mana can it take? How much improvement does it give you? How long does it last?¡±
¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure I¡¯m comfortable telling you that,¡± I said.
¡°I completely understand. We all like to have our little surprises in a fight. I will, however, swear to you that whatever you tell me will not go any further than between me and maybe the Lord General. And if you are honest with me, I can try to come up with a training plan to maximize your effectiveness.¡±
I thought about it for a second and then lied. ¡°You pretty much saw all of it. I can speed up, make myself stronger, and even make myself tougher like you saw, but only for one second. After that, I have to wait at least 30 seconds before I can do it again.¡±
Captain Orr thought about it. ¡°Not the best body knack, but you did seem to run out of oomph after that one strike. Hmmm¡ if that¡¯s all you¡¯ve got, you probably don¡¯t have a major life knack. Which is for the best. Still, not bad in a straight up fight.¡±
I watched or as he talked to himself.
¡°Come back and see me with the other runners who come to me for training. We will see if we can give that brawler in you some technique. It will be hard since you¡¯ve picked up a tonne of bad habits but we can work with that.¡± Lord Captain Orr said eventually.
¡°I also offer more specialized training to the five other people in the army with body knacks. We meet once a week, I will send someone to get you.¡± He said.
¡°Five other people,¡± I said shocked.
¡°Knacks are rare, I¡¯m actually surprised you know the term, but body knacks are the most common. There are fifty-thousand troops gathered here give or take a few. Seven people out of those fifty-thousand have knacks, all of them body. I also have a greater Life Ghoul knack, and there is a Sargent with a greater life Zombie knack. The four other people are like you with only minor body knacks. Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll meet with them and practice with them. Plus it is nice sometimes not to feel so alone.¡±
¡°Now run along, Red Panda is getting antsy, and if you don¡¯t immediately focus all of your attention on her, she will likely throw rocks at us.¡± Captain Orr said.
I walked over to where my sword was leaning against the sword rack and exchanged it for the wooden practice sword I had been holding. It was nice to feel my own weapon¡¯s weight strapped around my waist.
¡°He kicked your ass.¡± Said Red Panda.
¡°That he did,¡± I said.
¡°I mean he really kicked your ass. Usually, the other boys circle him slowly and smack at each other with their wooden penises for minutes before he kicks their ass. You were out in like seconds. You must suck. Still, I guess you moved pretty fast.¡±
¡°You¡¯re right Red Panda, I suck,¡± I said.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
¡°If a practice sword is a wooden penis and he handed you your ass, does that mean he pegged you on the field of combat?¡± she said, ¡°I¡¯m just asking for a friend.¡±
¡°Where to next Red Panda?¡± I said exasperatedly.
¡°Let¡¯s go to the doctor!¡± she said.
We then went to the hospital. Tilde wasn¡¯t at work yet, but a woman who¡¯d apparently been briefed about me showed us around.
¡°We don¡¯t do a lot of the surgery up here,¡± she said. ¡°We have an emergency ward down below closer to the battlefield. Lynx Elm, these room is mostly for medium-term care and recovery. We also have separate private rooms for the nobility and officers. They, of course, are always given short-term care.¡±
¡°Short-term care?¡±
¡°A full healing spell from a qualified healer, and then rest in one of the beds for a week. To be honest, we¡¯ve tried to limit what qualifies as wounded to keep malingering to a minimum. Otherwise, we would have nobility coming in here with complaints of hangnails and laryngitis just to take a few days off.¡±
We thanked her, and she said ¡°If what Tilde says is true, I expect I¡¯ll be seeing you around Lynx. We can always use another healer. Even if you can only be available part-time. I¡¯m Hil, it was nice to meet you.¡±
¡°It is nice to meet you too. I don¡¯t know how much help I can be, and I don¡¯t know how full my schedule will be, but I would be glad to help out as much as I can.¡± I said.
The next place that Red Panda took us was inside the keep to a massive room where there were maps of the valley all over the walls, and a scale model of the valley complete with miniature soldiers filling the center of the room.
Red Panda seemed surprised that the desk in front of the door was unoccupied but she only pushed her way in as if it were second nature.
¡°This is the War Room, Lynx Elm,¡± she said. ¡°Sometimes we have to bring emergency messages here. Most of the time, though, because all the people in here have Platinum status¡¯ they can send messages to one another through their mental interface.¡±
¡°Should they be in here?¡± One of the women in a Lord Captain¡¯s uniform said.
¡°Relax Cinta, it is just one runner showing another runner around. They need to come in here sometimes.¡±
¡°Well, I don¡¯t like it. Someone should always be on duty. They could be spies. There should be protocol. Where is the guard at the door? They should have just handed whatever message they had to that person, and then that officer should pass the information on to us. What if one of them gets captured. They would know all of our plans,¡± the one called Cinta said.
¡°What plans. We¡¯ve sat here doing nothing for three months! I say we make a move! Press forward when they are least expecting it.¡± yelled another officer.
¡°Umm gentlemen, try not to fight in the war room¡ besides, we¡¯re veering off topic. And we definitely don¡¯t want to discuss that in front of the children. Red Panda and Lynx Elm, thank you for your visit, please don¡¯t repeat anything you have heard here. It seems we need to talk about bathroom breaks and keeping runners out.¡±
As we left and after the door closed, Red Panda giggled. ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to go in there. Never got a chance until now. Always someone blocking the door.¡±
¡°Do you know what other chat functions you get with your Status interface?¡± I asked out of curiosity.
¡°Ummm¡ Group chat, Raid Chat, Private Chat, Family Chat, Guild Chat, Lynx is a dumb ass Chat, maybe more I think. It isn¡¯t something I pay attention to.¡±
¡°And only Platinum status gets it?¡¯
¡°I think I¡¯ve heard that Gold status can read messages they¡¯ve been sent, but can¡¯t send messages. Who cares, we¡¯re both gonna get Platinum so who cares what kind of a mental midget everyone else is.¡±
¡°Isn¡¯t it 10 platinum? While my family is rich, I can¡¯t imagine every noble family dropping that much on all their kids.¡± I said.
¡°Legacy, Lynx Elm, legacy. If both your parents have a certain status, you get it for free. You only have to pay if you want to move up in the ranks. And if you come from parents with mixed status, you get one status less than the parent with the higher. So let¡¯s imagine your case and your platinum status mama screws around with a peasant with a copper status ¡ª because everyone knows your mama gets around ¡ª their kid could choose to be anything up to gold status without paying.¡±
Red Panda then took me upstairs and introduced me yet again to Sambon, Lord General Aram Heron Sequoia¡¯s aid. The Lord General was of course too busy to see us.
We then went on a tour of the ramparts and battlements, Red Panda took special care to show me where all of the latrines were. Given that this was a feudal empire in a war zone the bathrooms were surprisingly modern, with hot and cold running water and even showers.
¡°Baboon Fig says that they have a water elemental that makes its home in the cistern that they feed runners who don¡¯t carry messages fast enough.¡± Red Panda said. ¡°He¡¯s a liar. Obviously, they feed runners who don¡¯t run fast enough to the slimes that eat the waste in the septic system.¡±
After exploring the entire keep, except for the dungeon ¡°Who wants to go down there, it¡¯s yucky?¡± And the officer¡¯s quarters ¡ª Red Panda¡¯s clever trick of just barging in didn¡¯t work this time. And the quartermaster, who happened to be out and had his door locked. We headed down the hill to the actual war.
The rocky road ran down the face of the mountain. The sides of the path were walled, and there were a separate rampart and tower system that stopped and started along the road down to the valley. The whole pathway up into the pass was set up so that an invading army would have to take it in sections, while a fortified army could withdraw to the next higher better-fortified position above while raining down spitballs and hellfire on anything approaching from below.
Positioned against the battlements was a gallows. The corpses of three men hung rotting in the sun. There was additional space for five times that number.
Down in the valley, there were patches of grass here and there, but most of the ground was mud or rock. Most of the well-trod paths were covered in packed in gravel and the remaining root system of long cleared plant life.
Red Panda and I jogged along the road occasionally getting out of the way for troops performing maneuvers or moving from one point to another.
In the valley, buildings in the valley were a combination of earth mage constructed walls, sandbagged fortifications, trenches, and significant buildings that had been excavated into the cliff faces.
The first place that Red Panda took me too was the valley¡¯s command center.Unlike the relatively relaxed atmosphere of the keep, headquarters in the valley was pulsing with energy.
Red Panda was asked no less than four times to identify herself ¡ª even when it was apparent that the guard knew exactly who she was ¡ª and they also kept asking her the password of the day ¡°Oliphant,¡± which ¡°Oops¡ I should have shown you where to find it, but Cham writes it every day on the main board in the main room.¡±
We did a quick tour of the headquarters. There was even a room for runners to rest and wait to be dispatched.
¡°We only carry messages between the golds and occasionally high ranked silvers, since the platinums have their own way of sending messages. We mostly are assigned to carry packages for the platinums though.¡±
¡°Packages?¡± I asked.
¡°Anything from, ¡®Red Panda, carry these top-secret battle plans to the Lord General¡¯¡± she said speaking in a fake a deep and authoritative voice while holding a finger under her nose pretending it was a mustache. ¡°Or ¡®Red Panda, I hear they are serving pasta for lunch in the Keep. It is important for the war effort that you bring me those noodles before they run out or they get cold. Run fast little girl, run fast. The state of our Empire depends upon it.¡¯¡±
¡°We don¡¯t carry packages for the silvers or the golds?¡± I asked.
¡°Fuck no. I ain¡¯t running to bring no silver his lunch. He can go to the mess like all the others. Speaking of which, are you hungry? We can go to the soldiers'' mess next.¡±
So we went to the soldiers'' mess next. Built directly into the mountain the mess was both one of the most fortified places on the valley floor and equally the easiest to enter and access. There were plenty of doors in, and unlike the headquarters, nobody asked either mine or Red Panda¡¯s names or passwords as we entered the building.
There was a chow line with a buffet style serving. Most of the foods were beans, preserved meat, and bread based. But there was a smattering of fresh seasonal vegetables, and the food appeared to be hearty and well cooked even though it was not as fancy or as abundant as the food in the keep.
Several hundred soldiers sat around at the picnic table style tables underneath the domed stone ceiling. Some were playing cards, some were reading, but most people were merely talking among themselves. There was a group of musicians in uniform quietly playing in one of the corners.
¡°The food down here ain¡¯t bad. And sometimes it is a lot better than up top. Think comfort food versus fancy food. Us runners get around a lot, and we pass the word around where the best grub is during the day to those who want to know. This ain¡¯t formal but its what some of the officers use us for.¡±
All of the buildings she showed me had latrines, but there were also stand alone latrines placed in very prominent locations, especially closer to the front.
¡°You don¡¯t want to know what the soldiers in the trenches way up in the front do when they need to go to the bathroom. I hear that before they had runners. They used to have kids our age with buckets running back and forth in the trenches. They would call them poo boys and poo girls. Can you believe that? What a horrible duty.¡± Red Panda said.
¡°I am familiar with the concept,¡± I said.
¡°I mean talk about disgusting. You have to stand there watching as somebody you barely know calls you over, drops their pants, poops in the bucket you are carrying. Then you hand them a towel or something. When they are done, you have to run off to clean the bucket and wash the towel and wait for the next person who needs to poo.¡±
Red Panda was gesturing wildly now and wasn¡¯t really paying much attention to anything.
¡°Can we change the subject,¡± I said with some impatience.
¡°Or if a couple people have to poo. Sometimes when the cook in the mess makes beans, and everyone has to go, the latrines are full, can you imagine what the job of a poo boy or girl was like back then. You are this poor 12-year old whose parents have sent you to the war for experience, and now you are running around with a bucket full of shit, and it is slopping all over you as you run, and you got this towel in your hands that is stained with the track marks of¡¡±
¡°Why don¡¯t we go see the hospital,¡± I said.
Red Panda looked at me, ¡°Don¡¯t you think it is horrible. If we¡¯d come just ten years ago you and me might have been doing that. That¡¯s what my older brothers told me. My brothers said that runner¡¯s carry the copper poo for a whole year to build character. They even gave me a bucket and wanted me to practice with our servants and guards. But I refused. For some odd reason, my father kept laughing when I told him about it.¡±
I sighed, and then repeated, ¡°Why don¡¯t we head over to the hospital.¡±
¡°I suppose.¡± She said.
The hospital was on the other side, and a short walk away from the mess hall. There was a triage place out in the front, where all of the stone was as smooth as a mirror, and couple dozen metal gurneys lined up in neat rows. I was shocked when I saw that the symbol of the hospital was a giant red cross on a field of white, but I did not say anything.
As we were standing there, a team of four soldiers ran up to the triage area carrying a stretcher with a soldier who was screaming in pain on it. I could see one of the people lifting the stretchers was casting life runes on the screaming soldier, but they were weak and barely sufficient.
When the team carrying stretcher got the triage area, a group ran out to meet them. I noticed that everyone was wearing white armbands with red crosses on their uniforms.
One of the people in the group that ran out to meet the stretcher began calling out instructions, and then I saw more life runes come forth out of him, not into the wounded man, but into the two other people who¡¯d come with him. Acting together their spellcasting seemed to flow between them before the runes flowed down onto the man.
Then he stopped screaming. He wasn¡¯t healed, but I could see the magic sink into him, and it seemed to hint at reinforcing the body¡¯s own healing.
The magic withdrew, and the medics who had brought the stretcher placed the man on a gurney, and some orderlies and some more people in uniforms with that same white armband and the red cross came out and guided the wounded soldier into the hospital.
I turned to Red Panda, ¡°That red cross on their arm? I¡¯ve seen it before.¡±
¡°No shit. It¡¯s like the universal symbol of life magic and healing. And you call yourself a healing mage,¡± Red Panda said.
Then she said, ¡°Wanna go introduce yourself.¡±
I thought about it but realized I really didn¡¯t. Not right now. ¡°Naw¡ you¡¯ve still got stuff to show me. If I get sucked into there, you¡¯ll never get me out.¡±
¡°There really is only one major place left to show you. I need to take you to our local Inquisitor Lord Samdi. Just between you and me, well you seem nice, but Samdi is a creep and a jerk face and a pervert. Never eat any food there. I can¡¯t tell you enough. Never eat or drink anything he gives you.¡±
¡°Why?¡± I said.
¡°He likes to play with toys. So he drugs anything he offers to visitors. It is doubly dangerous for a runner. Because we ain¡¯t been tested yet for our status, as an Inquisitor, his word is all he needs. In the two years I¡¯ve been here, I¡¯ve seen three runners, trapped by him, and he¡¯s said each and every one of them was a twice lived. One maybe. But three.¡±
¡°What?!¡± I said.
¡°His word. He¡¯s the inquisitor. He takes care of the Twice-Lived we have in camp. And he likes his toys. The Lord General says, that if Lord Samdi were one of his men he would hang him, you saw the gallows on the way down. But he is an inquisitor. They are outside the command structure. And he is useful. So whatever you do, don¡¯t eat or drink anything Samdi gives you.¡±
Chapter 30 - Lord Samdi
As we walked to Lord Samdi¡¯s offices, I asked Red Panda ¡°You mentioned brothers, what¡¯s your family like?¡±
¡°They¡¯re completely horrible. I¡¯m the youngest kid and the only girl. My mom died in an accident when I was three years old. It was just my father, my six brothers and me. They picked on me all the time. What about you?¡¯¡¯
¡°I have a brother and a sister that I barely know. They went off to the capital when I was young, and a mother and father that well¡ the less said about them, the better,¡± I said.
Red Panda looked at me for a moment, then she said, ¡°One of my brothers is an officer here, do you want to meet him? I¡¯ll admit, as long as I show him who¡¯s boss, he¡¯s not a complete doofus.¡±
¡°Maybe,¡± I said.
Red Panda led me towards a single door that was away from most of the other main exterior facing buildings. Assuming this was the inquisition¡¯s office if this world had fire inspectors they would probably be either up in arms or well bribed over the lack of obvious egress from this building. Instead, the only thing that distinguished the location was a single black door hewn into the rock face and a few air vents for circulation.
¡°I¡¯d hate to get stuck in there if there was a fire in front of the door,¡± I said.
¡°Why?¡± asked Red Panda.
¡°Only one entrance or exit.¡± I pointed to the door.
¡°Dumb ass, there¡¯s a whole network of tunnels in the back that connect everything. There is even a central indoor road that I was going to show you later. What do you think the runners use when it is raining? Where do you think the troops sleep when they are off duty or on leave. They aren¡¯t always neck deep in the dirt and shit you know. This is just the furthermost entrance. I brought you here to get perspective.¡±
She was right, the direction that I thought she had been taking us to, was not to an office building, but instead, the door led into an open hallway, that was well lit with full spectrum daylight balanced mage lights.
The ground in the hallway actually tiled out of a kind of slate that was different from the natural rock of the mountain, while the walls and ceiling were done in a white material that looked suspiciously like drywall. Though where even with the use of magic this type of culture would get that much calcium sulfate was a mystery.
Curious, I walked over one of the walls and tapped on it. The material felt nothing at all like drywall to the touch, more like a kind of extruded and shaped cellulose.
I looked over at Red Panda.
¡°Don¡¯t look at me. I¡¯m not some plant mage. I don¡¯t know how to make that stuff. All I know is that I¡¯ve tried lighting it on fire a bunch of times and it doesn¡¯t burn worth a crap.¡±
¡°Pyro,¡± I said laughing.
¡°I¡¯m a fire mage. I like to set things on fire. Fires get me excited. The bigger the fire, the better. Is that such a bad thing?¡± She said.
¡°I¡¯m having a hard time coming up with an answer to that,¡± I said.
¡°Meh, some girls want sparkly rocks, some girls want a pretty boy singing love songs, some girls want expensive clothes, but all this girl wants is a massive pile of wood against a clear night sky and the time to watch it burn. I think the most beautiful thing I ever saw in my whole life was when my dad took me to see 200 miles of old growth forest burn down after a thunderstorm. I peed myself a little.¡±
I looked at Red Panda again, then sighed. Hers wasn¡¯t the worst issue I¡¯d run into in this world.
¡°Where is Lord Samdi again?¡± I asked.
We walked for about 10 more minutes, generally heading back the way we¡¯d come from and towards the keep. The corridor we were in opened up into a large hallway where people in uniform were running or walking back and forth. More than anything, the whole atmosphere seemed to be like a really long mall, except nobody was shopping and the entrances to either side weren¡¯t stores but were different essential services.
There were even ornamental plants and fountains that had been strategically grown in spots, and overhead faux skylights emulated a clear blue sky that was entirely at odds with the overcast day and bleak grey towering rock faces that Red Panda and I had just left a few minutes ago.
Thankfully there was no elevator music.
Finally, we got to another door which had the Lanta symbol for the inquisition featured on a sign prominently beside it.
¡°Why don¡¯t you go in. I¡¯ll just wait out here. Samdi gives me the creeps.¡± said Red Panda.
¡°People keep saying that. Over and over again.¡± I said and pushed my way into the office.
The best way to describe the offices of the Inquisition in this war zone would be swinger chic. Everything was polished wood surface, velvet seating, or erotic statuary. Furs of rare monsters carpeted the floor. Rare and exotic fruit sat in bowls on the tables. There was a wine cellar just off the main room, and I could recognize some of the labels as the very same rare and delicate vintages my mother liked.
A pleasant tinkling chime sounded with the opening of the door and rang again as the door closed behind me. I heard a deep voice coming from the side room saying, ¡°just a second, I¡¯ll be right out. Why don¡¯t you have a seat? I¡¯ll be with you in a minute.¡±
I looked around the sheer hedonism of the room, and wishing I had a UV light, I decided to forgo sitting down. Eventually, I was surprised when a man, barely taller than four foot eleven, dressed in the official robes of an inquisitor came into the room.
He seemed surprised to see me, but he looked me up and down, taking special care to evaluate my own uniform, and then unexpectedly he ran over to me and hugged me.
¡°A colleague. I have been so lonely.¡± He said in a silky smooth baritone that belied his height.
It was an extraordinary experience being so lovingly hugged by a man so many people I had met in my two days here had told me to avoid. I looked down, and Lord Samdi was even crying a little bit and dribbling tears and blowing snot on my tabard.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
I could only pry him away by sitting down and even, so he sat next to me with looking at me with eyes filled with curiosity.
¡°Tell me everything,¡± he said.
I didn¡¯t really know what to say to this so instead I just said, ¡°I am Seeker Scout Lieutenant Lynx Elm of House Lysturgus and the Clan Naato, I was sent here to report to Lord General Aram Heron Sequoia and to be assigned to the position of being a runner for a period of time. Lord Cham felt that because of my position in the Inquisition that I would make an excellent go-between for the runners and yourself.¡±
Lord Samdi was nodding like a chicken pecking at a feeding trough through my brief explanation.
¡°House Lysturgus, Clan Naato? Your father wouldn¡¯t be Harrion would it?¡±
¡°Yes, it is.¡±
Before I could stop him, Lord Samdi was hugging me all over again. ¡°Oh, Lynx Elm, it is so wonderful to meet you. I am such a fan of your father. When I was just a young Lieutenant like yourself, I served under him.¡±
Lord Samdi got up off the velvet cushioned couch and walked over to his wine cellar where he pulled down a bottle, uncorked it, and poured himself a glass.
¡°Would you like some?¡± he asked.
¡°Thank you, but no thank you.¡±
¡°Your loss, this is an incredibly rare vintage. There were only 20 bottles left in the world. 19 now, I suppose.¡± He said as he drank his glass and then refilled it.
Then he brought the bottle and glass over, put them on a nearby table, and sat back down next to me again.
¡°Anyways, when I knew your father I was a bit of a hell-raiser. Not like now when I have for all intents and purposes calmed down. I had caused some sort of ruckus or other. Nothing serious. The kind of youthful indiscretions people do. Anyway, there several thousand people at the gates of the inquisition with pitchforks and burning torches demanding that I be led out in chains and face punishment.¡±
¡°Your father Lord Harrion Wolverine Oak took me aside and told me words that I have lived by to this day. ¡°Neither the Empire nor I care what you do in your free time. But never overreach and always make sure you have the clout to clean up your own messes,¡± he said.
Lord Samdi took a sip of his wine, ¡°Oh, this is simply exquisite. Are you sure you don¡¯t want a glass? No? How sad.¡±
He put the wine glass down again. ¡°And then I remember asking your father, ¡®you¡¯re not angry?"
¡°To which he said, ¡®of course I¡¯m mad. I¡¯m furious. Now I have to make this go away. Idiocy. Some say we give them too much freedom, but if there is one thing I know, it is that people will die fighting for an illusion."
¡°That night I watched out the window as someone who looked and sounded and acted just like me was led out into the crowd by your father. I watched as your father said, ¡°Let it not be said that the Inquisition is not generous.¡± And then I watched as he turned around and walked back into our headquarters.
¡°From my window, I watched as the person posing as me, with no guards or weapons to defend him, insulted the crowd. He called the mayor and impotent cocksucker, and then he dropped his pants and began masturbating in public while staring random women in the crowd.¡±
Lord Samdi stopped for a moment and then giggled, ¡°I watched from my window as the mob surged and then attacked. They tore the person pretending to be me apart. It was delicious and gruesome and awe-inspiring. One of the most brilliant things I have ever seen in my life.¡±
¡°The next day your father smuggled me out of the Inquisitor¡¯s keep. To this day I don¡¯t know how he did it. Mind magic and Illusion if I had my guess. But I was looking with my mage sight, and I saw no runes. All I know is that as I was sneaking out, there was a rumor going around that one of your father¡¯s enemies had disappeared the night before. He¡¯d been one of the people leading the mob against me.¡±
Lord Samdi turned and looked at me. ¡°Your father is a great and brilliant man. A great man. I am proud to be working with his son. If you are a tenth of the man your father is, I would be proud to call you a friend and a colleague.¡±
And then he reached over and hugged me again.
Letting me go, he stood up and said, ¡°come, let me show you around.¡±
We got up, and Samdi led me back into a hallway and then into the room he must have just come out of. Unlike the tacky lavishness of the first room, this room was merely a long workroom. There were at least thirty people hunched over a long metal table working on something.
¡°They are making armaments right now,¡± Samdi said. ¡°Isn¡¯t it marvelous.¡±
I looked closer and saw that every person at the table was single-mindedly focused on what looked like oversized metal arrowheads in front of them. None of them spoke, and each and every one of their movements was mechanical and precise.
¡°Who are they?¡± I said.
¡°Twice-Lived of course,¡± said Lord Samdi.
I looked at him shocked. ¡°I saw a Twice-Lived drawn and quartered once when I was young.¡±
Lord Samdi nodded, ¡°What fun. Still, we don¡¯t do that much anymore. Only when we need to make a point. Twice-Lived are far too useful. Take a look at these.¡±
Samdi turned to the group of Twice-Lived and said ¡°Number 7 and 8 stand.¡± A man and a woman who had been working at the table put down the metal item and stood to face Samdi.
¡°Number 7, beat Number 8 to death¡± Said Samdi.
The man began punching the woman all over her body. His fists left blood and torn skin and a broken arm and leg, and she fell to the ground. The man didn¡¯t stop, he continued to hit her body on the floor.¡±
¡°Number 7 Stop.¡± And the man stopped.
¡°Number 8 get up and have sex with Number 7.¡±
The woman, ignoring the pain of apparent broken bones, forced herself upwards. She began peeling off the man¡¯s clothing. The man stood unmovingly and ignored the woman who was now fellating him as blood rolled down her face and her eyes turned black and blue.
¡°Number 8 Stop. Number 7 and Number 8 get back to work.¡±
The man walked back to his spot and began working again, the woman took a bit longer because she had to crawl there, and once she was at the table she tried to keep up with the synchronous timing of whatever they were manufacturing.
¡°See! See! Total control. They have a range of actions they can do, and as long as you have the control mechanism, you are their absolute master. There is nothing else left in there. They are my pretty little puppets. My toys love me and will do anything for me.
¡°Lynx Elm, since you are the son of such a great man, if you want them for anything just ask. They are all beautiful, I have lots of pleasure programs that I can run, and the Inquisition keeps sending me new ones when these ones wear out. Or if you see anybody you fancy around the base or one of your runner friends, just bring them here, and I will make them into a pet for you. As long as I tell people they are a Twice-Lived the rest of the army doesn¡¯t care.¡±
¡°But what are you doing? Why are you here? I don¡¯t get it.¡± I said.
With a twinkle in his eye, Lord Samdi said ¡°Making magic!¡± he walked over to one of the steel arrowheads that his brainlessly programmed Twice-Lived had already finished with, and picked it up. Carefully carrying it, he brought it over to me.
I looked at the metal work with my mage sight. There was some sort of magic going on, but it was unlike any that I had ever seen before. It was far more intricate and patterned than rune magic, and yet¡ it occurred to me¡ I had seen something like this before. The same type of magic had been used in the mysterious Orb in the house of Status.
¡°Weird yes? I can¡¯t make heads or tails of it really, but it works.¡± Said Samdi. ¡°We have that set up so that as soon as the missile gets past the halfway point on the battlefield, it activates. And when it lands. KABOOM!
¡°What we lack in firepower compared to that damned pyromancer over on the other side, we make up in volume. My team of little pretties here can enchant 20 missile heads every day. Fired from the Ballista on the walls, that¡¯s a lot of KABOOMS. And some people say the Inquisition isn¡¯t useful for anything other than hunting down Twice-Lived.¡±
¡°Oh. And speaking of which.¡± Lord Samdi, walked over to one of the cabinets against the wall and opened a drawer. He pulled out an amulet and threw it to me.
¡°Put that on. It is a ward against magical fire. It will last through one direct hit from that Pyromancer bastard¡¯s fireballs. My team makes them for the high officers, but since your father is one of my heroes, you can have one too.¡±
Reluctantly I put the amulet over my head, and when nothing horrible happened, I sighed in relief. Lord Samdi came over and hugged me yet again.
¡°It is really great to meet you, Lynx Elm. Drop by any time. And remember if you want to play with my pretties, come over any time. If you break them, I get new replacements every couple months, so no big deal, and you can try out any fetishes or fun things you want or can think of.
¡°Ummm¡ Goodbye Lord Samdi.¡± I said and then got out of there as quickly as I could.
Chapter 31 - The Trenches
Carefully making sure that the door was closed all the way behind me, I turned to Red Panda and said, ¡°I think I understand why everyone warned me about that guy.¡±
¡°I¡¯m so glad you are safe.¡± She said and hugged me.
¡°Umm¡ enough with the hugging. I think I am a little hugged out for the next little while. While I don¡¯t mind if, from you, Samdi kept doing it and it was super creepy.¡±
¡°Did you see Egret, Honey Badger, and Ant Eater?¡±
¡°Huh?¡± I said.
¡°They were three runners who delivered messages to Samdi, and who Samdi decided to keep. He told everyone they were Twice-Lived which is idiotic, they were no more Twice lived than you or me. But he kept them and made them his ¡®toys.¡¯¡± Said Red Panda.
¡°I did see two kids our age. A boy and girl. But not a third.¡±
¡°The girl was probably Egret. Describe the boy,¡± she said.
¡°A bit taller than me. Brown hair. Freckles.¡±
¡°Ant Eater,¡± she said. Then she said, ¡°that must mean Honey Badger is dead. It is so sad Honey Badger always had such an independent spirit. He never cared, he never gave a shit. It¡¯s probably what got him in the end. We warned him to be careful around Samdi. Told him never eat or drink anything he offers. But he didn¡¯t listen.¡± Red Panda started to cry.
She was still hugging me, so I patted her back and said, ¡°There, there. There, there. Lord Samdi likes me, and more importantly, he respects my father. No other runners will have to visit him as long as I can carry the message instead of them.¡±
¡°Really?¡±
¡°Yes Really,¡± I said. ¡°Besides, if Honey Badger really didn¡¯t care and never gave a shit, I think I would have liked to meet him. He sounds like my kind of runner.¡±
¡°Let¡¯s go meet my big bro.¡± Red Panda let go of me and dashed off down the hall. I had to run to catch up to her. But then I suppose I was a runner now, so having to run made sense.
We wove in and out of the mass of people. Most people got out of our way. Children dashing pell-mell through the underground in uniform must have been a semi-regular sight. Red Panda turned and ran down another hallway like the one that had led us into the underground, and soon we were outside and into the open air again.
Instead of heading up to the keep, Red Panda dashed out into the battlefield itself. She had to stop running when after about a hundred yards when the graveled over surface became mud. Bursts of light flew overhead, and periodically in the distance, the earth shook.
Red Panda turned to me and said, ¡°If you hear a whistling sound coming towards you, you have about five to six seconds to get out of the way. Run, dive, take shelter, do what you can to take cover. We should be fairly safe back here, but the further we get out there, the more dangerous it gets.¡±
The first trench was passed two six-foot high barbed-wire topped sand-bag walls and about three hundred yards away from the bluffs. The trench was about two and a half feet wide and ran roughly parallel to the cliff face for the entire distance of the valley. Red Panda jumped in, and I followed her.
Soldiers were lined up facing outward towards the enemy line. We couldn¡¯t run, because there was barely room to squeeze past them. Three times we passed what I could have sworn were machine gun emplacements.
It wasn¡¯t as dirty as I¡¯d expected. The ground wasn¡¯t the thick plodding depth of mud that I¡¯d expected. Instead, the ground had been covered with the same aggregate gravel of chipped mountainside that paved many of the paths and roads of the rest of the camp. But then I saw a rat that was nearly the size of a cocker spaniel run across my line of sight carrying a human hand and revised my opinion of the trenches.
Red Panda led me to a tunnel that had been dug and shored up into the dirt. We went in and then down some rough-hewn stairs to some sleeping quarters and a command center. One of the walls held a large drawing pinned to the wall that depicted the valley. On the drawing, all of the trenches and other underground bunkers were drawn. There were even places marked as tunnels. Red Panda ran straight for a taller man, who if you got rid of some of the dirt and grime that covered his body, would look a lot like Red Panda, and squealed ¡°Brother!¡±
¡°I keep telling you, you shouldn¡¯t come here, Midget,¡± said the man, sighing.
¡°And I¡¯ve told you not to call me Midget. My name is Red Panda. Since I ain¡¯t changing my ways, and you ain¡¯t changing your ways, why don¡¯t we agree that I¡¯m here now and let me introduce you to my new friend Lynx? Because of Lynx, I will never have to talk with that horrible man Samdi ever again.¡±
Red Panda¡¯s brother looked me over, then extended a hand. ¡°There aren¡¯t very many good inquisitors, but there are some, if the Midget vouches for you I will withhold my judgment. It is nice to meet you Lynx. My name is Terrald Blue Panda Hazelnut.¡±
¡°Blue Panda?¡±
¡°My mother got it into her head that she loved Pandas. She¡¯d never seen one only read about them in books. But that didn¡¯t stop her from naming all of us kids after them anyway. She even managed to convince Dad that Pandas were ferocious predators to fit with the Empire¡¯s naming scheme. Claimed they were a half polar bear and a half dire bear or some such. I suspect my father knew that all Pandas do all day is eat Bamboo. Anyway, I¡¯m Blue Panda, and you know Red Panda, but if you ever meet my brothers you¡¯ll meet a Black Panda, a White Panda, a Paisley Panda, a Green Panda, and Purple Panda. Paisley isn¡¯t even a color. It was damned embarrassing growing up, but it was what Mom wanted, and there was very little Dad wouldn¡¯t give Mom before she died.¡±
The earth shook all of a sudden, and a loud boom sounded from somewhere nearby. Dirt sprinkled down from overhead. Nobody in the underground chamber seemed to notice it.
¡°Guess what Blue, Lynx has a body knack just like you, I took him to see Orr before we came here, and Orr says he will be training with you sometimes.¡±
¡°Really? Body knacks are rare? What does yours do?¡±
When I seemed reluctant to discuss it, Terrald said, ¡°Mine is a fairly basic one. As long as I keep feeding mana into it, I am half again as strong, tough and fast as I normally am. But it drains mana really quickly and since I am a much stronger Earth Mage I only use my knack if I get into a fight that I really need to win.¡±
I decided to keep up my lie, ¡°Mine isn¡¯t even that good. For one second I am twice as fast, strong and tough. Then I need to wait for 30 seconds before I¡¯m good to go again. Good for a surprise I guess. I¡¯m much more useful as a Life Mage than I am with my knack.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Another three explosions sounded outside, this time the sound and the vibration came from much further away.
¡°I remember before I got my status, so I know how you feel,¡± said Terrald, still ignoring what was going on outside, ¡°Here we are with this secret ability that supposedly makes us stronger and faster than the rest of humanity, and the average soldier, once you take their freedom points into account, can kick our ass any day of the week. Let¡¯s just say it evens out once you are a Platinum. But you don¡¯t just have your Life Magic, just looking at you I can tell you that you¡¯ve got whatever ability it is that they look for in inquisitors.¡±
¡°Ability?¡± I said.
¡°They haven¡¯t taught it to you yet. I suppose that makes sense. Nobody who isn¡¯t part of the inner circle knows what it is. But you can¡¯t be an Inquisitor, or be part of the Order of the House of Status, or one of any of the half a dozen other elite societies of the empire without it.¡±
¡°Huh?¡± I said at a complete loss.
¡°Put it this way. Do you have any family? Brothers? Sisters? Are they inquisitors? Assessors? Seers? Urges? Gamesmen? Delvers? Keepers? If they aren¡¯t. If they are just normal nobility then you know they don¡¯t have the ability or affinity or knack or whatever it is. It is the way of a lot of families with a Society member in it. Sometimes a parent is part of one of the Empire¡¯s orders, but none or just one of the children is.¡±
I thought about my brother and sister. I had never been close to them. Even growing up they had usually been separated from me. Mom had had more influence over their upbringing, while in retrospect Dad had more influence over mine. Come to think of it, I wasn¡¯t even sure if they knew how to use a weapon or what kind of training they¡¯d had in magic. And they¡¯d been shipped off to live with extended family in the Capitol as soon as they¡¯d got their Maturing names.
¡°Things about my family are suddenly making more sense than they once had.¡± I said, then ¡°So what do you do here?¡±
¡°I¡¯m part of a team of earth mages who go around fixing the fortifications that get broken and building new ones when they are needed. Mostly the grunts dig the trenches, so we don¡¯t have to get that close to the front unless there is some sort of major offensive. Mostly we sit in these louse-infested rat holes until somebody needs a tunnel or pillbox or a wall.¡±
¡°Louse infested rat holes?¡±
Three more explosions sounded, this time nearer than the others. The ground shook, and more dust fell from the ceiling.
¡°That damned pyromancer is really getting his rocks off today, damn it. Don¡¯t worry, these little dugouts can take a direct hit from one of his fireballs and not cave in. The rats feed on the bodies we can¡¯t get, and the lice are everywhere. Didn¡¯t Red Panda tell you? Just coming out here, you are going to have to be deloused before they¡¯ll allow you back into the main base, much less the keep.¡±
I thought about it for a second. ¡°I know a life spell, well it is more of a folk spell, but it is based on life magic, but it kills lice, bedbugs, and cockroaches and well¡ supposedly it kills gnomes too, but I have my doubts about that. If you can get some ink and ground dungeon core, I could probably cast it in here. Anybody coming into this room would have all the bugs on their bodies die as soon as they crossed the threshold. It would make the room comfier. And it wouldn¡¯t take me that long to cast.¡±
Terrald got up and opened a storage cabinet. ¡°I have exactly what you need. We occasionally use it for our own work, but if you can get rid of the bugs, even if it is just in here, wow¡ I everyone in this team would be in your debt.¡±
He handed me a pen and an inkwell, and I set out to draw the insect and gnome killing runes around the barracks and command center. It took about fifteen minutes, and then I extended my will to the runes that I had drawn and filled them with life mana.
¡°Holy shit, it worked. I can see them falling off my skin.¡± Yelled someone who I hadn¡¯t been introduced to.
¡°I don¡¯t need to scratch! I don¡¯t need to scratch! For the first time in two years I don¡¯t need to scratch!¡± said someone else.
¡°The boy¡¯s a miracle worker.¡±
¡°My balls still itch. But shit I think the kid fixed my crabs.¡±
It was great to be appreciated. Looks of gratitude filled every face around me. And the looks didn¡¯t go away even when another explosion sounded outside, and the underground bunker we were in shook menacingly.
¡°Thank you, Lynx. Everyone we will have to agree to keep this a secret or else every grunt and jarhead in the out there will start crowding into our home. I¡¯d say feel free to stop by anytime, but you kids really should stay back where it is safe. Also, you will still have to get deloused when you get back to the base. The parasites might die in here thanks to Lynx Elm, but everyone and everything in the trenches are covered with them.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know how much free time I will have, but I could probably come back and set up a few more insect free zones on the barracks and places where the soldiers sleep out here. The spell really doesn¡¯t take that long, and it is easy to do.¡± I said.
¡°I¡¯ll bring it up with command. I¡¯m not sure how they will take having an inquisitor, much less a twelve-year-old, moving around their precious battlefield, but I¡¯m sure someone will be interested. Or maybe not. The military works in mysterious ways. For all, I know some Knight Colonel thinks fleas and lice build character.¡±
After that, Red Panda and Terrald told each other what they¡¯d been up to since they had last seen each other. Not long since, Red Panda came here often, despite it being both dangerous and forbidden.
Every few minutes groups of explosions sounded. Most of them were in the distance. Some were so nearby they even shook the earth. It was terrifying at first, but after a while, I got used to it.
¡°Just remember, if you hear a whistling crackling noise in the air, you¡¯ve got about three to five seconds to get out of there or to take some sort of cover. At worst get down and try to cover yourself with the mud and water. It will keep the fireballs from roasting you completely. There is a rumor that we are advancing some time in the next couple of days, so stay away. Advancing usually does squat except get a lot of people killed, but you don¡¯t want to get caught up in it. And they always end up pushing us back.¡± Terrald said as we were about to leave. ¡°Follow Red Panda, she knows the best way out. And make sure you go to quarantine first when you get past the walls. They will delouse you and make sure you aren¡¯t spies. I¡¯d say don¡¯t come back, but you are associating with my bratty sister so I will assume that like her, you don¡¯t have a brain in your head.¡±
The only eventful thing that happened at the way back to the to the main base was that as we were passing under one of the places that I¡¯d thought was a machine gun emplacement, it began to shoot. It had gotten dark, and while I couldn¡¯t see bullets coming from the muzzle of the gun, I could see hundreds of miniature white-hot balls of flame no bigger than the size of golf ball shoot in rapid succession at a spot about 400 yards away. Another gun joined it targeting the same place. In the flickering light of the shooting, I could see three rows of trenches. The one we were in and then two more. In the far off distance. I could see the distant figures of the enemy soldiers climbing through the mud or over the barbed wire, and some burning where the flames from the guns struck them.
From up above I heard a screaming in the sky high overhead and then several seconds later the ground out past the last trench began exploding. More and more fireball style Gattling guns on this side of the battlefield began firing into the night, and a flare or a light mage shot a spell into the sky lighting up the dead zone between the two lines.
Red Panda said ¡°We should leave. It¡¯s gonna get crazy and I ain¡¯t in the mood to charge the enemy tonight, we should get back to the main base.¡±
She set off at a run again, and I followed. The way back was a much more twisted and winding path than the one we¡¯d taken in. Of course, there hadn¡¯t been live fire flying through the air, and the exploding fireballs had been much further out when we¡¯d come, and Red Panda had been much less cautious about sticking to low areas and safety tunnels.
On the way back, we passed hundreds of men and women rushing forward to the front lines. Our passage was slowed down getting out of their way since their destination was much more important than ours.
Eventually, we got back to the safety of the main base. Red Panda took us to the quarantine area, where we waited for a half an hour for enough people to gather, then a tired looking Nature Mage out and convinced the vermin who were inhabiting our hair and clothing to leave. It seemed ass-backward when there was such an easy life spell, but who knows. It appears that military bureaucracy on any world will always be a marvel of inefficiency.
I wanted to go out and help at the hospital with the triage and the healing, but I was told by a harried-looking administrator that I wasn¡¯t on the schedule or on the list, and if I wasn¡¯t on the schedule or on the list then there was no way that I could possibly be of any use. Instead, Red Panda took us to a place where we could get our uniforms cleaned in a half an hour and then in robes that they lent us, we went into an almost empty soldiers mess hall and had chow.
Chapter 32 - Time Passes
After that things fell into a routine. Once the runners learned that I could deal with Lord Samdi, I became the only runner who was allowed to deal with him. I was given an office in the mess hall down outside of the main fortress, and any runner who was assigned to visit the Inquisitor would instead come to find me, and I would carry their message instead.
The rest of the runners held a party the day that my new position as official liaison to Samdi was announced, which was surprisingly tame compared to the revelry I¡¯d experienced in Larkin. Mostly we sat around on our cots and swapped stories about our lives before coming here.
¡°I can¡¯t believe he talked like that,¡± said Tiger Willow.
Tiger Willow was one of the older runners. At 15 years old he was a sort of leader among the group and had taken the loss of his friends to Samdi hard.
That there was nothing, he could do weighed on him. He was distantly related to the Lord General and had spoken to her on numerous occasions. But her hands were tied. If Samdi had been an officer under her command, she would have brought him up on charges of rape and murder or at the very least disobeying the orders of a senior officer. But as it was Samdi was an inquisitor and was entirely out of the chain of command.
¡°I suppose I am out of the chain of command too. Technically I think I am supposed to report directly to Samdi, but I think Lord Er Peregrin Mahogany back in Larkin may have made it, so I reported to someone a little bit more rational. I can¡¯t see my Father doing something like that.¡± I said.
¡°You didn¡¯t tell us much about your family,¡± Tiger Willow said.
¡°He doesn¡¯t like them!¡± Red Panda said.
¡°Like Red Panda just said, I¡¯m not on the best of terms with my parents. I don¡¯t like my father, and my mother isn¡¯t the most emotionally stable person I can think of. My brother and sister are older than me and I never really knew them that well.¡±
¡°You must have spent time with them occasionally.¡± Insisted Tiger Willow, who had just spent the last twenty minutes talking about hunting, wrestling and the first time he got drunk with his brothers back on his family estates.
¡°They were sent to the capital to be raised by tutors and extended family when I was young. And I spent most of my time with tutors or with helping the soldiers train for a big part of my life.¡±
¡°Then you went out into the forest with this Wilmette fellow?¡± said Badger Alder. She was a lithe blonde girl who thought that none of the other Runners noticed that she spent all of her time with Tiger Willow.
"Yeah, it was mostly survival, tracking, and forestry training. Nothing too spectacular. I spent a year outdoors hunting and living off the land." I said not wanting to go into how I had spent the year.
"My turn, my turn" yelled Red Panda.
"I have five brothers, and they are all useless. Well, Terrald isn''t a complete tool. But the rest of my brothers couldn''t find their balls if their balls were blue and the biggest wettest vagina were staring unblinking right at them."
Badger Alder said "Red Panda. Do you have to be so crude?"
"Who me?" said Red Panda.
Red Panda over the months became my closest friend among the runners. While everyone was grateful that they no longer had to have any dealings with Samdi, for Red Panda it went further, I was the only one who didn¡¯t mind going out in the trenches to visit her brother Terrald.
Not that my getting along with Red Panda was that odd. She got along with all the male runners. We treated her as one of us. The female runners hated her though and gossiped about her behind her back. Red Panda didn¡¯t care and would share raunchy jokes us boys, often at the most gossipy girl¡¯s expense.
The biggest problem with my being the official liaison to Samdi was that I didn''t have a lot to do.
The entire military had somehow over the years come to the conclusion that it functioned best if the wild card factor that was the Lord Samdi was taken out of daily deliberations and left to act on its own.
Unless something was critically off; Unless supplies of some munition or device only Samdi could create; very few messages were mine to carry.
As a result, while I was on duty a lot, I also had a lot of free time. I read through all the blood magic books I¡¯d brought, and as I suspected, they were simply basic and college level biology texts with very few spells. The blood magic books from the library contained mostly spells but lacked the specific scientific knowledge the books I had stolen. Instead, they spoke about the four fluids of the body, blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm. And while it was amazing what, modern blood mages could do with the primitive concepts of fluids and body humors.
The books I¡¯d stolen ¡ª even with a few spells as they contained ¡ª provided an invaluable roadmap to modernizing my learning. Both my new Blood Magic and my Healing. While the books I got from the library ensured that I could adequately converse like and with the rest of the medieval witch doctors who practiced blood magic in the Empire.
During that time I also discovered that I had a minor skill with Earth Magic.
¡°It would seem that you have a small affinity for earth mana. It¡¯s up to you if you want to register it or not.¡± Terrald said while he was up in the keep visiting his sister.
¡°What are the benefits of registering, and what are the drawbacks,¡± I asked.
Terrald thought about it for a second, and then he said. ¡°If you register your talent, I or another Gold or Platinum Status Earth Mage officer can train you. You will be advanced in status to Silver and advanced in rank to Corporal, with a corresponding rise in pay. You will be put on lighter duty digging and shoring up trenches, ensuring the integrity of the fortifications, digging new latrines. Once you are released from the military, your options are nearly endless. If you choose to go back to the farm, a talent in earth magic like yours will make plowing fields, clearing stumps, or digging foundations easy. Or with the skills you get in the military you can easily find work in a city working as an assistant to a civil engineering mage or even an architectural mage.¡±
Then he said, ¡°really, Lynx it¡¯s a minor talent. If you don¡¯t already know the runes for it, I can show them to you off the books. I doubt the Army cares if one of their runners has a minor talent. But just in case it is best not to let them know, or you might find yourself digging holes in your spare time. If there is one thing this army does well and constantly seem to need, it is holes in the ground.¡±
The army tested all of their soldiers for magic ability and trained any troops with any useful skills. People with minor life magic became stretcher bearers, minor nature mages kept rats away from the food and helped rid the camp of lice, minor earth mages (like myself) dug trenches under Earth Mage officers like Terrald¡¯s command, minor air mages helped with artillery, etc.¡
Any major magic talents were sent off to one of several advanced officer training schools the military maintained. Graduates became the elite of the army no matter what their background andelevated to gold status. It was one of the benefits of joining the army, other than a constant stream of freedom points. In no other place could a farmer so quickly rise in status to wealth, power, and position than by joining the army and lucking into having a magical talent.
About a month after my visit to the trenches a newly minted gold status life mage stopped by my office.
¡°Boy, I have been sent to evaluate the spell you claim to have and its effect on vermin.¡±
I had been rereading one of the texts on blood magic I¡¯d stolen. I¡¯d ripped the cover off and replaced it with the cover of my basic herbology text. When he saw what I was reading the Life Mage who was waiting for me sneered when he thought that I was reading about herbs and alchemy. I ignored him and got up, and pulled the book on folk magic that I¡¯d bought back in Larkin off a shelf, and brought it over to him.
¡°Peasant magic. That book is well known among Life Mages. Next, you will tell me that the Army must banish the demon king from carrots. Or maybe your spell is a panacea for the gnome problem.¡±
¡°I will admit that some of the spells in this book are questionable. There is a spell in here that causes herpes in goats. It doesn¡¯t cure it; I¡¯m not sure why anyone would want a spell that causes a sexual disease in barnyard animals. But every once in a while there is something useful. The lice spell works and the soldiers like it. So what¡¯s the harm.¡±
¡°The harm is that I¡¯m the one who will have to crawl around in the muck casting this spell. I have enough work as it is. I am a vital person. I don¡¯t need to cast petty spells made for farmers.¡±
I sighed and put the book back on my shelf. ¡°What branch of life magic do you follow?¡± I asked.
¡°I don¡¯t see what business it is of yours, but I specialize in detection magic.¡±
¡°So you sit in a fortified room and scan the battlefield for signs of life where they shouldn¡¯t be? Interesting. I¡¯ve never looked into that area. Do you like it? What kind of range do you have?¡± I said.
¡°That is none of your business. If we are done here, I would like to report to my commanding officer that this was a waste of time.¡±
¡°I guess I¡¯ve got to thank you for your time Lieutenant, I wish I could change your mind, but it seems like you are pretty set in your ways.¡±
¡°Next time don¡¯t waste my time.¡±
¡°Squire Lieutenant, Lieutenant¡±
¡°What¡±
¡°Next time don¡¯t waste my time, squire lieutenant. We¡¯re both equals here.¡± I said.
¡°Whatever, squire lieutenant. Whatever. I¡¯m a busy man, and I don¡¯t want to take you away from your nap or play time.¡±
And that was that. Nothing happened officially on the lice front. Unofficially Terrald and some of the other front-line officers would take me out to different bunkers during times when the pyromancer was assumed to be sleeping, and I would set up the wards to clean up infestations.
As close as I was to the front, I could extend a tendril as thin and visible to mage sight as four-pound test fishing line of my witches sense out towards the enemy¡¯s trenches and fill up on mana. Draining a human was hard. Quite often they resisted, and my efforts came up with nothing. But I got enough successes make the attempt worthwhile.
While I was out at the front, I would also cure some of the wounds that were deemed too minor to waste time on in the hospital. Things like food poison, the flu, STDs, hearing problems, trench foot, sprains, missing eyes. It was good practice on my healing spells, and I had a massive source of free mana among the enemy soldiers. Plus I could surreptitiously collect blood samples to practice my blood magic.
During that time I also got access to all the restricted sections of the library.
Lord Samdi helped me here. ¡°Lynx darling, there is a saying that I¡¯ve always lived by ¡®If you want anything, take it¡¯ of course I will make sure you have permission to the forbidden spells. If it didn¡¯t involve the tedium of reading, I might join you. The forbidden is always delicious. Teach me anything scandalous you learn.¡±
The books in this section included books on breaking wards, opening locks, curses, hex breaking, remote listening spells, and remote viewing spells. Most of these spells fell under the pure arcane affinity where I discovered I was surprisingly powerful.
There was also a book on sex magic, which after I read through it, I passed on to an appreciative Samdi. He¡¯d already read it and had a much more extensive library on the subject tucked away in his bedchamber. He offered to demonstrate some of the more fun spells with me if I had a few hours. I politely declined.
The sex book, since it was a version of the Kama Sutra with spells, proved much more popular when I brought it back to the runners'' dorm. Maybe Lord Samdi was rubbing off on me, but it didn¡¯t occur to me that I was ¡®corrupting the youth.¡¯ There was a lot of curiosity ¡ª some more obsessive than others ¡ª and a lot of giggling from the girls and a lot of rushing off to privacy from the boys.
About a month later, after I¡¯d forgotten about the book, I got a strongly worded message from Merf demanding its returns. I had to ask around among the runners where it was. Eventually, I found a storage closet near the kitchens where I hear a lot of grunting and moaning. Finally, Tiger Willow and Badger Alder came out. They had been practicing page 34 and 35. I got the book back, slightly sticker than when I¡¯d lent it out and with pages missing. I pointed out that neither Tiger Willow nor Badger Alder had any sexual magic affinity and also lectured them about first coming to see me to get contraceptive spells.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
It turns out I needn¡¯t have lectured. It turns out that because both men and women served in the fighting forces, contraceptive spells were quite common and easy to get. The enlisted troops of both genders were essentially sterilized while they served and only rendered fertile again after they left the military or by special dispensation if a couple was stationed away from combat and wanted to be legally married. Sex was a popular pass time. There were even private rooms set aside for it.
I also made a habit of joining Captain Orr every day to practice sword with the other Runners. We didn¡¯t do a lot of sparring. Instead, Orr would show us sword Katas, and we would practice them over and over again until the forms flowed smoothly from one to the other. And when we did spar, he emphasized precision, speed, and technique over brute force, and raw animal instinct. It seemed like another lifetime when I had trained like this, well before I¡¯d met Wilmette. The skills were slowly coming back, and I was becoming better with a blade.
When we sparred, I was the best of the runners even without using my knack. And while I couldn¡¯t match Orr¡¯s experience or the way he transformed his blade-work into almost an art, I could, on rare occasions, get past his guard with my practice sword.
¡°Impressive Lynx Elm, give me five years, and I will put you on the road towards being a blade master.¡±
¡°Do I get anything fancy for being a blade-master? A special token of recognition? A sword with a bird or some waterfowl etched on it?¡± I asked.
Captain Orr looked at me like I¡¯d gone nuts, ¡°No. You get to not die in a fight against someone better than you.¡±
¡°That¡¯s important too,¡± I said.
The next day when I went to train, I discovered Captain Orr waiting for me with the rest of the Runners. For some reason, everyone was trying very hard not to laugh. Tiger Willow and Fox Maple were standing together giggling. For someone who still couldn¡¯t talk to me without blushing and running away, and who Red Panda still claimed (with no proof) queefed loudly and consistently in her sleep, Fox Maple giggled a lot.
¡°Lynx Elm, the other Runners and I have thought long and hard about what you said yesterday.¡± Captain Orr was holding something behind his back. ¡°While there is no mark of a master swordsperson, your words moved all of us deeply. A bird or some sort of waterfowl you said. We took this to heart. And while you are not a blade master yet, you are clearly on the path to become one, so it fits you should train with a sword marked for legendary swordsman you wish to become.¡±
Captain Orr brought the practice sword he was holding behind his back forward. Someone had tied a dead goose to it. Then one of the other runners splashed the goose with some water, and it began to honk and try to flap its wings. Someone had tied a live goose to a practice sword...
¡°Behold oh mighty warrior, I present to you your goose-marked blade. A symbol of righteousness and a code to live by. Mighty warrior be like the goose: Don¡¯t flap around. When your bottom is wet, it is likely because you are in a pond. If someone puts you in a cage and stuffs food down your throat, it is because your liver is the tastiest part of you. As the literary genius, Pierre Menard has written Be careful if you lay Golden Eggs. And above all, as the words written on the back of immortal Cart-san tell us, Honk if you are horny.¡±
Orr handed me the sword while the rest of the runners were in various states of laughter. The Goose was heavy, and only the rope which tied the poor thing kept if from beating its wings or flailing its feet to run away. I had to be careful because if I held the wooden practice weapon wrong, the could bite me.
I laughed. It was sort of funny. Poor goose though. I cast a quick spell and put it back to sleep.
Thankfully they didn¡¯t require me to practice or fight with my goose sword. The goose made it awkward unbalanced. Besides midway through sparring that day the bird woke up and began honking and waddling in circles making a frightful noise. I had to put stop thrashing Tiger Willow long enough to put it to sleep again, and then Fox Maple ran off with the poor animal to take it the kitchens.
When Fox Maple got back, she asked Captain Orr, ¡°Why is Lynx so good. A lot of us have been practicing with you longer. I know more katas and can do them better than he can. Red Panda is faster than he is. Tiger Willow is stronger.¡±
Captain Orr thought about this for a few seconds. ¡°This is not a healthy discussion. I wouldn¡¯t normally bring it up on my own. Most of the time I would say that some people simply have a better instinct for sword work than others. And this is true. But it is not the whole truth. Lynx Elm has something called a Killer Instinct. He hides it well, but it comes out when he fights. For most of you, when you spar, you hold back. You don¡¯t want to hurt your friends. You worry about how much the force of a blow will hurt you. You think about what is for dinner. When Lynx Elm spars, he doesn¡¯t care about these things. His mind is only on one thing. Killing the person or people he is fighting.¡±
¡°I suspect that at some time in his life Lynx Elm faced his inevitable death and instead of giving in and accepting it, overcame the odds at some cost to his goodness and soul.¡±
Orr sat down on the ground and put his practice sword beside him. He motioned for the others to sit too.
¡°But not only that. There is an anger inside the boy. A fury that I sometimes see come out when he fights. It isn¡¯t a bloodlust. He doesn¡¯t lose control like those who give in to blood fury. Instead, he when the rage takes him it is cold and focused, and everything is calculated and precise.¡±
¡°I have met people like Lynx Elm before. They are dangerous. On the battlefield and off. Many of them don¡¯t care about anybody. They see other people as objects to be used or discarded. It is telling that Lynx is a member of the inquisition since that is where I have met most of those with this character trait. It is also fitting ¡ª and the reason I still train Lynx ¡ª that he volunteers with the wounded on the battlefield and in the hospital, and that he genuinely seems to be friendly with you runners. There is a conflict inside of him; it will be interesting to see if the monster or the man prevails.¡¯
After that, the rest of the runners stayed away from me for a few days, and it took nearly a month before we got back to the laughing joking relationship we¡¯d had before. Well except for Red Panda who was a pain in the ass with all her questions. But in a way, I was glad for the friendship.
One of the other ways that I spent a lot of my times was helping out in the hospital. Over time I grew to know the staff, both in the Keep and near the battlefield. Because I could only show up now and then, I could not learn surgery which I was told took years to learn. But I did help with minor things like sterilizing medical instruments, stabilizing soldiers in triage and refreshing the healing runes. And because I didn¡¯t care if I wasted my entire mana supply, every once in a while I completely healed a patient who was not an officer. They didn¡¯t mind this since they still got convalescent leave away from the fighting.
Out of curiosity on a slow day, I asked Tilde, the head physician, about the healing knack. I hadn¡¯t used it since I had discovered it. It was easier to heal using runes, but the few people who had mentioned healing knacks claimed it was something rare.
¡°Tilde, once long ago you mentioned healing knacks. I¡¯m curious, what do they do.¡± I was talking to Tilde the healer I had met them when I first arrived here.
¡°Not much. They are rare. Sometimes people with a Major Body Knack will have one. All a minor healing Knack does is regenerate wounds as long as you feed it mana. Useful in a fight I suppose. Depending on how strong it is and what kind of body knack the person has, I¡¯ve heard of warriors who are nearly unkillable.¡± Tilde said, as his scalpel cut into the wounded warrior¡¯s chest.
There had been a minor skirmish that had finished minutes ago. Fewer fireballs and more flights of arrows. My job was to keep people alive as the stretcher bearers brought them in off the battlefield long enough for a surgeon to cut the arrows out of any of the critically injured. Anybody with arrows in arms or legs could wait until later.
Tilde Jackalope Treant liked to talk while he worked. It helped him focus, so I said, ¡°But what about Major Healing Knacks. You once mentioned those too.¡±
¡°Oh, those are incredibly rare. Probably the rarest knack there is, and I don¡¯t envy those who have it.¡±
This surprised me. ¡°Why not?¡± I said, ¡°I would think a healing knack would be useful, even if it has a limited application.¡±
¡°You don¡¯t understand; a Major Healing Knack has no limited application. Someone with this knack draws mana by fixing wounds. If someone with a healing knack were here, they could use their knack to cure a patient, and then prevent the mana overflow could then cast any other spell, to empty their reserves, and then go right on healing. They can bring people back right from the very brink of death, and cure wounds or sicknesses that are so severe that runic magic is useless.¡±
Tilde had cut open a large enough incision that pulling the barbed arrowhead out of the soldier could be accomplished without ripping a hole in his flesh. The arrow had struck just an inch below the man¡¯s heart, and he was barely holding on to life. I kept a small supply of healing mana flowing into the soldier, keeping him unconscious and alive and Tilde pulled out the arrow. I was tempted to use the Healing Knack. Being able to get mana by healing wounds would be useful. On a battlefield, the wounded were all around. But something in the way Tilde spoke made me cautious.
We moved on to the next soldier, a silver status orderly with a small affinity for life magic was stabilizing her for us until we got there. I took over the stabilization and Tilde got quickly to work removing an arrow that had somehow just missed an artery.
¡°A major Life Knack sounds like a remarkable gift. Why don¡¯t you envy the people who have it?¡± I asked.
Tilde continued to cut. ¡°Let me tell you about Sara Antelope Rye. She lived nearly 300 years ago and discovered that she had a Major Life Knack. Of course, she began to go around the country healing and caring for the sick. This was in the early days of the empire when the current system of status had not been created. The people loved her and followed her from town to town, and everywhere she went to festivals were held in her honor. Even the nobility loved her because she didn¡¯t care about a person¡¯s position, she healed whoever came to her, poor or wealthy, and asked for nothing.¡±
¡°The problem was this. Our current Emperor is the same Emperor that we had then, and while this is not spoken of much, she is a Vampire.¡±
I must have looked confused, because Tilde said, ¡°A Vampire is a Body Knack that can take other Body Knacks if they are given to him willingly. Willingly in the case of the Emperor involves torture and mind magic and undoubtedly by now a major Mind Knack.¡±
¡°Still, it probably wouldn¡¯t have mattered much to the Emperor. A strong Vampire can steal a multitude of ways to harvest mana, taking mana from wounds while useful except for the sheer rarity of the knack. And Vampires are not known for their benevolence or selflessness towards others. Sara Antelope Rye would have been the hero of the people, except for one thing. It was discovered that the healing knack could heal old age.¡±
¡°Since that time, powerful vampire lords hunt down any Major Healing Knack they can find. Fortunately, it is a rare knack. But Vampires travel from kingdom to kingdom; from land to land hoping to find and torture a healer into giving up their knack, so that the Vampire can live forever.¡±
Tilde had made another incision while he talked and was slowly pushing the skin back away from the arrow. Blood was flowing down the wound, and even spurting from a small hole in the artery. I focused on sending healing runes, to close that tiny hole.
¡°It is why so few life mages specialize in healing, and so many in blood magic or life detection. Even the rumor of an accomplished medic will bring Vampires. It is the reason why we still use knives and sutures rather than dungeon cores and more efficient spells. Vampires hide well, shapeshifters are rare, but the best vampires have often stolen the knack of one. Every good physician is at risk of awakening one day in a dark basement with someone they once thought was a friend about to torture them for a knack they may or may not have.¡±
Tilde must have seen the shocked and worried look on my face. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. The introduction of Status magic has made things a lot easier. Every citizen of the empire get¡¯s their status taken when they turn 16, and all their knacks are recorded on their status. While officially what is on a Status page is private, it is known that the Inquisitors use Status magic to find Twice-Lived and I am sure the people who work for the House of Status have a way to look at any status page they like. The killings of prominent healers have slowed down considerably since then.¡±
I must still have looked as worried as I felt, ¡°Slowed down, but not stopped?¡± I said.
¡°Well, as Vampires age some get more and more desperate and more and more paranoid that someone has found a way to hide something from the status magic. Life Magic and Blood Magic are closely related after all, and what is Status Magic but a combination of life magic, blood magic, mind magic and arcane magic with some illusion magic and who knows what else thrown in for effect.¡±
Tilde pulled out the arrow from the woman¡¯s body. Again, I let a flow of runes into her just barely healing her as I had been taught, conserving my mana for the next wounded soldier. Stabilizing her and keeping her alive, but letting her heal with time and nature.
¡°And of course the Emperor does not like other Vampires in his empire finding a someone with a Healing Knack, so sometimes he will kill a healer he suspects first before one of his servants finds it. The house of Status report to him above anyone else.¡±
¡°Servants,¡± I asked. This was beginning to be overwhelming.
Tilde looked at me in astonishment. ¡°You are Clan Naato are you not?¡±
¡°What of it?¡± I said.
¡°Naato is a vampire. One of the Emperor¡¯s servants. From what I hear the Emperor makes him young again periodically in exchange for his servitude. Naato was one of the warlords who established the early empire and began hunting down Twice-Lived. You are descended from him. Though descended is probably the wrong word since he is still alive.
¡°Of course Naato would love to find a Major Healing Knack. I can¡¯t imagine someone like that, no matter how much power he enjoys as one of the most powerful men in the empire, he is still nothing more than a slave, dependent on someone to keep him alive. All the other Clan heads are like this. And of course, the Emperor knows this and makes sure to kill those healers off first.¡±
I spent the rest of the night healing in silence trying to draw as little attention to myself as possible.
Once a week those of us with body knacks would gather in the training yard and practice fighting at the incredible speeds and strengths that only someone with a body knack could manage. Here I was the slowest. I was reluctant to admit that I could go faster than double my speed. After I learned about the truth about Vampires; I resolved to keep everything I could about my skills secret.
My ever-increasing skill and technique did make up for a lot. And it was good practice fighting against people who outweighed me, and who was much faster, more robust and stronger than me except in short extremely limited bursts.
Besides myself, Captain Orr, and Terrald, the rest of the people with body knacks had been found among the soldiers. They had been promoted to Gold status upon discovery. Silver Status was useless for a warrior since it did not increase physical stats at all.
Alber Squirrel Kudzu was a farmer who wanted to go back to his farm after the war, though Captain Orr was trying to convince him to join the Imperial army. He could increase his stats by a factor of 1.75 and even had some minor regeneration abilities. Alber didn¡¯t have nearly as much skill as Orr, but his speed and healing made him the next hardest forme to fight.
Micha Bat Ivy wasa Zombie.
¡°What¡¯s a zombie,¡± I asked.
¡°Life Knack. I get mana from eating flesh. The fresher, the bloodier, from the more intelligent the source, the better,¡± said Micha.
I looked at her horrified.
¡°Brains.¡± said Micha. She extended her arms, let her head tilt listlessly to the side, and her eyes glaze over and then said ¡°brains,¡± again.
Since nobody else seemed worried I decided not to decapitate her, and a few seconds later when I didn¡¯t run away in fear, she let her arms drop and laughed.
¡°While brains would probably really give me a real boost, I won¡¯t eat them. Until I joined the army I was a vegetarian. Now they force me to eat as much steak as I can handle and all of it is rare. It¡¯s disgusting. But it does fill me up with power. So I don¡¯t complain too much. Plus whatever I can¡¯t eat I give to the people in my platoon. They like the extra protein.¡±
I could never remember the two other people with minor body knack¡¯s names. They never made much of an impression. Neither of them had ever held a sword before joining the army and even fighting at their best, amped up with their gold status, and the extra speed and power from their magic, I could beat them one on one in a fight. Privately in my head, I called them Flip and Flop.
Besides I could usually talk Micha, Terrald, and Alber into going to the officer mess for a beer after our weekly workout. Orr never joined us, and always muttered about corrupting the youth and that I was too young to drink. While Flip and Flop would leave together and I suspected they were a couple.
It wasn''t until about nine months after I arrived that a runner came down from the keep with a message for me to carry to Lord Samdi.
There was a cart with a shipment of Twice-Lived for his use.
Chapter 33 - Processing a Twice Lived
With a mixture of fascination and apprehension, I casually jogged towards Lord Samdi¡¯s complex. Fascination, because I was curious what he would do to turn the servile, broken-spirited people huddled in the wagon up in the fortress into the automatons he used, and apprehensive for precisely the same reason.
Over the months that I had been here people, some people had gotten to know me and occasionally I received a wave as I ran. The runners were the mascots of a lot of the troops. Our youth reminding the older soldiers of their family back home. Usually, I would wave back, but today was different. The fate of the Twice-Lived weighed heavily on my mind.
Eventually, I made my way to Samdi¡¯s rooms. He was not in the front office. That was expected. I did not wish to interrupt whatever work or perversion he was engaging in behind closed doors, so I rang the bell that he¡¯d left out front for visitors to announce their arrival.
The air was musky with the smell of stale smell of sweat and semen. I still refused to sit down on any of the furniture.
A few minutes later Samdi entered the room. He was dressed which was good. Half the time I arrived to give him messages he was completely naked, which didn¡¯t bother me. But when he was naked, he often tried to insist that it was only fair that I will be naked too, which was irritating.
¡°Lynx, my darling boy. So good to see you. While I know your rudeness knows no bounds, I in the spirit of hospitality insist on your sharing this outstanding vintage with me. The grapes of this wine were grown on the south side of a hill in an area of the empire known for its sunshine and moderate temperatures. The year this particular vintage was harvested is especially prized. And it has only become better with age. Come, share a glass with me and we will toast your successes and mourn your losses.¡±
¡°Thank you, my Lord, but as much as your kind offer humbles me, I am afraid that I must decline your offer,¡± I said. Keeping in mind that no matter Samdi¡¯s friendship with my father, the wine or the glass might be drugged and that I didn¡¯t want to never wake up again living the rest of my life as one of Samdi¡¯s toys.
¡°You fill me with so much sadness, a tender young thing such as yourself could stand to loosen up and relax for a bit. Well, what small bit of excitement or ennui brings you into my demesne today.¡± Samdi said bored already.
¡°I was sent to tell you that there is a cartload of Twice-Lived that arrived in the fortress a little while ago. The coach people are resting briefly before they make the trip down the escarpment.¡±
¡°I see. I see. My current batch was getting low. It is good that They are sending me fresh livestock to work with.¡± Said Samdi. ¡°Well thank you for the message, special boy, I have a busy day ahead of me. A busy day.¡±
Looking at him, hesitating, it was horrible and yet¡ yet I had to know¡.
¡°Lord Samdi, I am curious how you deal with Twice lived. I saw my father execute one once. In my position as a member of the Inquisition, I would like to know more about the different ways Twice-Lived are used and why the differences.¡±
Samdi paused for a moment and thought. ¡°keep in mind that what I am about to show you is considered High Treason in our order for you to know.¡± Samdi giggled. ¡°Thought I don¡¯t know why. The process is marvelously simple and yet completely incomprehensible. Still,¡± Samdi winked at me.
¡°This is just between us, my boy. Just between us. Your father would undoubtedly hang me from the gallows for letting you see this, and would then take a red-hot iron hook and slowly pull your entrails out while a healer kept you alive for weeks simply for the asking.¡±
I was shocked. ¡°If it is that secret Lord Samdi, why are you considering showing me?¡±
¡°Life is short, so why deny yourself any pleasure you desire, dearest Lynx Elm. Pleasing you, pleases me, so why shouldn¡¯t I do it? Who will tattle on us? Besides, I want something from you. Beyond the inevitability that one day you will give in and let me show your tender young body pleasures, it has never dreamt itself capable of. Are you sure you don¡¯t want some wine by the way? This vintage is remarkably exquisite.¡±
¡°No thank you,¡± I said. ¡°What is it that you want?¡±
¡°Just your help with a little project that has been plaguing me for years. I hear you are an able healer, and I am in need of your healing abilities. You are asking to see something that could get us both tortured to death in the most painful possible way. I am simply asking you to consider giving your assistance in a personal matter that your father once helped me with himself.¡±
¡°I am not my father, I said, but if it is only considering the matter, I can at least give what you have to say a listen,¡± I said. ¡°I can¡¯t promise any more than that.¡±
¡°Fine be that way. You are so tender and sweet, I just want to eat you up before being an Inquisitor hardens you."
¡°Do you mind leading them here. The wagon usually arrives at entrance 18. I think I must prepare a cheese plate for our guests.¡± Samdi said.
That was fine with me since I didn¡¯t want to spend my time lounging around with the Inquisitor any more than I had too.
Entrance 18 was only a short distance away, and I didn¡¯t have to wait long until a wagon pulled up. It was an open wagon that was being slowly pulled by four sturdy horses. A large burly man, a more prominent woman, and a young boy drove the horses, while eight figures dressed in cheap weather-stained, badly worn burlap-like material.
The Twice-Lived were shackled together by wrought iron chains which ran between rusted neck-manacles. Each Twice-Lived was also chained by their neck to iron bars that had been welded to the side of the cart.
I walked up to the cart and said: ¡°I was told to have you bring the Twice-Lived with me.¡±
The man grunted, and he and the woman swung off their respective side of the cart. The woman took out a key and began unlocking the poor boys and girls necks from the metal bar that held them to the vehicle. The man was doing the same thing on the other side.
While none of the Twice-Lived were looked older than seventeen, it was hard to tell, with the layers of grime and filth that covered them. Their bodies were emaciated. There were bags of animal feed laying in the center of the wagon and since I couldn¡¯t see any animals I had to assume that animal feed was all they¡¯d been fed on their journey to this horrible destination.
When they¡¯d been unleashed, the man and the woman each grabbed the end of a chain, while the young boy, presumably their son, jabbed the Twice-Lived with a metal prod and occasionally threw stones at them.
¡°Come on you lot.¡± The woman said, ¡°ain¡¯t got all day.¡±
The. Twice-Lived tried to move, but it was harder than I had expected. Their muscles must have atrophied from sitting for long, and they were having a hard time walking.
There were holes to defecate, built into the wooden seats where the teenagers had been sitting; broken, dispirited, and defeated and many of these Twice-Lived were so beyond caring that they didn¡¯t even push the minimal amount of clothing that they were wearing down as the Twice-Lived stumbled out of vehicle they had been sitting motionless for months.
The group shambled forward into the mountain, following my lead while the man and the woman sometimes pulled, sometimes dragged, occasionally prodded the twice-lived who shuffled their way forward like cattle finding their way into a slaughterhouse.
I had asked to see this so I couldn¡¯t even fall back on the excuse I was merely following orders.
Lord Samdi was waiting for us as we neared his offices and he waved everyone in.
¡°Welcome, welcome. Good to see you. Good to see you. I hope your journey was pleasant and without incident?¡±
The man simply grunted.
¡°Where do you want ¡®em,¡± said the woman.
¡°Well, aren¡¯t you special. Follow me, Follow me. And bring the livestock. I will need your help to secure them in the laboratory.¡±
I followed behind while Samdi led the group deeper into his home. Eventually, we entered a large white room, a short distance away from where I kept his remaining Twice-Lived.
I knew from past visits that there were only four of his old batch left. Samdi seemed to be incredibly wasteful with his playthings. I didn¡¯t want to ask what he did with them.
The number of Twice-Lived working on making munitions, however, was one of the things Lord General Aram Heron Sequoia had me report to her on. So over the last few months, I had had to keep a better record than I might have wanted too.
The man and woman began locking the Twice-Lived, still standing attached by their necks to metal rings that had been embedded into the walls. There was a stainless steel surgical table in the center of the room a sink and a hose, and a rubber apron hanging from a hook on the wall.
When the last Twice-Lived was locked up, Samdi said, ¡°Well done, well done. This is marvelous. Come with me. Come with me.¡±
We walked out to the front room to rejoin the couple¡¯s son again. Samdi said, ¡°You came at exactly the perfect time.¡± He walked to his wine closet and pulled out a bottle of wine, and four glasses. ¡°This calls for a celebratory drink, and I think a reward is in order. An extra 5 gold coins for the fabulous work you have accomplished.¡±
Samdi poured three glasses and handed one to the man and one to the woman, ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want a glass, Lynx Elm? This is an outstanding vintage.¡± He looked over at the couple who had delivered the Twice-Lived ¡°Lynx Elm insists on not enjoying alcohol. I believe he is repressed and needs to let loose and live a little, but he disagrees and insists on nurturing his unhealthy inhibitions.¡±
Samdi took a sip of his wine, and then got up and went over to a desk he had positioned by the door. As he was rifling through one of the drawers, first the woman and then the man slumped down on the couches they were sitting on, dropping their glasses of wine which spilled all over the carpeting.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
¡°Oh dear, little fellow, it looks like your parents are tired from their trip and fell asleep.¡± Samdi walked over to the young child, who looked lost and maybe a little bit like he was about to cry. ¡°I know. The perfect thing. Would you like some candy? I have some over here somewhere.¡± Samdi walked over to a closet that was hidden behind a push cushion in the all and pulled out some sweets.
¡°Would you like some candy little boy? I won¡¯t tell your parents.¡± Samdi said.
The boy nodded, and Samdi handed him a handful. A few minutes later the child was lying unconscious on the floor as well.
Samdi, winked at me ¡°The wine and candy, they were drugged,¡± he said.
¡°And you drank it and offered it to me?¡± I said.
¡°Dear boy, I would have let you go eventually and think of all of the fun you would have had. You know you want me, you just haven¡¯t realized it yet. As for me darling, I have indulged myself with nearly everything recreationally for so long that even the exotic pharmaceuticals and alchemicals barely affect me anymore. It is a sad and costly state of affairs that brings me much despondency.¡±
I followed him into the room where he kept his automaton Twice-Lived pets.
¡°Number 4, Number 23, and Number 17 we have three guests in the front room gather them up and chain them in the lab with the others.¡±
Samdi turned and then walked to the Laboratory. ¡°You wanted to see how the whole process is done my little darling. The lure of the forbidden, if there is anything I can understand it is that.
¡°Just keep in mind that I am only showing this to you like thanks to your father and because you are already a member of our order and will undoubtedly learn these things eventually. Darling boy, for both our sake, act surprised when you do.¡±
Samdi walked over to a drawer and pulled out a small vial. There was a black chemical inside. Grimacing he pulled the cork, and as the room took on a stench of fetid rotting corpses, drank the liquid in one gulp.
¡°Ahhhhh, that¡¯s good. Terrible taste. But hits the spot. I would offer you some, but at best it would probably kill you, and at worst it would undoubtedly drive you insane. You have to work up to Chandra Root. Besides, you would only say no. Such a lovely boy for having no spirit of adventure.¡±
Putting the vial down, Samdi walked over to another drawer. He pulled out two amulets that looked like they were made from platinum. Putting one on, he handed the other to me.
¡°These are called relays. I will want that one back.¡±
I hung the amulet around my neck, and while I was wearing it, I felt a tingle of power rush through my body. Like I now noticed on Samdi¡¯s amulet, the gem at the center of mine began to glow a light yellow.
¡°Those of us in the eight main orders of the empire have secret secondary functions beyond what is known widely to the public. The public knows Inquisitors as those tasked with hunting down and bringing Twice-Lived to justice. In reality, we merely evaluate and use the Twice-Lived resource.
¡°Those that are useless to the Empire are either killed outright or made to serve our glorious nation. Those Twice-Lived that have uses¡ well, I honestly don¡¯t know what happens to them. My fondness for the forbidden has always been my downfall, dearest lad. Alas child, I was shuffled out here before I could find out.
A tear fell from Lord Samdi¡¯s eye. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was for his fate at being sent to one of the furthest reaches of the empire, or at not learning some secret knowledge, or only at a fond memory of some forbidden activity from his sordid past.
¡°What you have around your neck,¡± Samdi continued, ¡°they relay is kind of a control amulet. I don¡¯t know how it works. Talk to Order of Urges, they make these things. All I know is that there is something inside of both of us. A hidden affinity. Something that all the orders keep very secret. It is something that we test for in all children at every birth, and during every naming, and even during ever status change just in case we missed someone.
¡°Without this affinity, you could not become an inquisitor, or join the house of status or any of the other Imperial order, because you would not be able to use our control amulets.¡±
The three automata twice lived came in dragging slowly dragging the unconscious cart drivers behind them into the room.
¡°Ah¡ thank you. Number 4, Number 23, and Number 17 just leave them on the floor. Now Number 4, Number 23, and Number 17 lift the male onto the table and secure him with the leather straps face down to it.¡±
The three Twice-Lived dropped left the people they were dragging on the ground and then proceeded to lift the burly man onto the surgical table. Underneath the table were leather belts that went around the unconscious man¡¯s torso, neck, feet, legs, arms, and shoulders. I also noticed metal chains and manacles that could also be used, hanging from under the table.
While they were tightening the straps, Lord Samdi filled up an enormous syringe with liquid. ¡°Number 23 be a dear and go get Number 9. Bring her back here. Number 4 inject a bit of this into all the cattle chained to the wall. The rest of you secure the woman and the boy. When that is done remove all the clothing and burn it, the begin washing and cleaning the livestock. The smell is revolting in here.¡±
Samdi turned to me and said, ¡°The first thing, is to make sure that the livestock is incapable of moving. This is a very delicate procedure, and if they squirm too much it could fail, and you can lose your cattle. I have a moderate mind control affinity Lynx Elm, and I sometimes use that to calm them. Sometimes I don¡¯t. Sometimes I use alchemy like I am going to do now. Often it is fun not to use anything and to simply listen to them beg and plead and scream. This will not be one of those times.¡±
He walked over to the hook where the rubber apron hung and put it on. ¡°This is a messy procedure. I suppose that with your healing skills this whole thing would be as simple as magic, sort of like the process of the House of Status uses to give Status Magic, but alas I am constrained by the old-fashioned way.¡±
¡°The first step, beautiful boy, is to prepare a control crystal. Normally I recycle them and use one that I¡¯ve already prepared on another Twice-Lived. But for educational purposes dear boy, we might as well begin with a completely new dungeon core and start from there.¡±
From a drawer, Samdi pulled out a small box. Inside he removed a small gemstone. ¡°This fantastic toy is called a matrix. It is 0.5 carats of dungeon core from an at least 10-year-old dungeon. The older the core it comes from, the more useful it is, of course.
¡°I have heard that some of our highest noble families pass down parts of a thousand year or older core to their children and go to great lengths to recover the head when one of their lines dies. You would know more about this than I do though.¡±
¡°Normally, the people in the House of Status use a matrix to embed high-status magic into a lovely boy or girl who becomes a Platinum Status citizen. We are not going to do that. This livestock was already tested and given a Status during the ceremony. Since they are all low-born none of them were given a matrix during the process.¡±
I looked at him then I said, ¡°so only Platinum Status nobles have something embedded in them? Then how does Status magic work?¡±
¡°Short answer, I don¡¯t know. Longer answer, during the ceremony Nobles, get part of an actual dungeon core while Lowborns there is actually a small, weak fragment of an artificial core that acts similar to a matrix to give them their status.¡±
¡°Artificial core? Like what they grow in Larkin. I saw the dungeons there.¡± I said.
¡°No. No. Nothing like that dear boy. The House of Urge has come up with a way to grow dungeon core using magic. I don¡¯t know how to do it. The Urges keep their secrets just as we Inquisitors do. But supposedly these cores never gain consciousness, and are useless for most things except basic Statuses other elementary magic.¡±
Touching the glowing relay amulet around his neck, Samdi said, ¡°The first thing we need to do is to connect this core matrix to a relay amulet. Each relay amulet is connected to a much more powerful core somewhere¡ I assume it is in a House of Status or in a House of Urge somewhere, but I don¡¯t know for sure.
Holding the amulet in one hand and the cut matrix gemstone in the other Samdi brought the two clear-cut stone together until they touched. Then he said. "Relay load functions twice-lived Samdi. Upload files to Matrix. Label Matrix Number 25. Save.¡±
The matrix gem started to pulse and then glow in the same color as the amulet. The crystal lit up and then dimmed down until there was just an internal glow deep in the center of the stone.
¡°I realize that someone with as tender and as beautiful a body as you was not meant for such deep thought and that none of this makes much sense to you. I just keep this in mind. The words seem simple, but they are as complicated as these things get. Say them in the wrong order, and nothing goes wrong. They are a strange kind of magic that I have only been taught bare minimum of.
¡°Dear boy, I should also point out that anybody who isn¡¯t authorized to know about these spells or this process or who shares any of this information without permission is declared to be a Twice-Lived by the empire. What I have shown you here is for some inexplicable reason considered one of the deepest secrets of our Empire. Our functions as Inquisitors was first made to hunt down people who shared this information, we only added the duty to find the Twice-Lived a century after our Order¡¯s founding.¡±
Samdi walked over to the table and put small now dimly glowing gemstone onto the steel surgical table. He then walked over another shelf and pulled out a small bottle. ¡°Healing potion,¡± he said.
¡°Like I said, I have no Life Affinity Magic, and even if I did, I don¡¯t know any healing or the secrets of the House of Status. It doesn¡¯t matter. Never underestimate the resources of the Magrithiam Inquisition.¡±
Samdi reached into another drawer and pulled out a hand crank drill. ¡°Time for a good old-fashioned trepanation. It is really too bad he is unconscious. This is much more fun when the livestock is aware. They can¡¯t actually feel anything, but they can imagine that they feel things. It is so much fun, my dear boy. Your father showed me this technique.¡±
Samdi used a piece of string to measure a location halfway around the back and the top part of the man on the table¡¯s head. He then used another to measure from the front of the man¡¯s face to the string on the back of his head. Where they met when they were taut, he made a mark.
¡°String. My idea. Your father just guesstimates. But then he doesn¡¯t care if he kills the subject or not. I don¡¯t like losing playthings. Right now, my boy, we need to find and get access to the livestock¡¯s occipital lobe.¡±
Samdi put the drill bit of his hand drill to the man¡¯s head and then began to turn the crank. Blood started to flow down onto the table as the cutting edge, and then the flutes of the twist bit dug into the man¡¯s skull. Then instead of blood, clear fluid cerebrospinal fluid mixed bits of white powder began to come out of the hole Samdi was making. When grey matter started to come out, Samdi stopped and pulled the drill bit out.
¡°The next part is easy. Now that we have access to the brain, we simply put the core fragment inside the livestock¡¯s head. As soon as it finds the occipital lobe, it is programmed to move into the right part of the livestock¡¯s brain.¡±
¡°Because it is a core it naturally has the power to absorb territory like it does in a dungeon. This body is now its territory. It still has the capability of creation within its limited scopes, and we have overwritten that instinct to change the livestock''s body and mind to make them more useful.
Samdi opened the healing potion and poured a small part of it into the hole in the back of the man¡¯s head, and then poured the rest of it all over the drill and the drill bit. ¡°Remember this Lynx Elm, it is important to keep your work tools clean. The potion will get rid of the filth from the livestock that might get caught in the groves of the blade. I¡¯ll use another bottle to wash the operating table after I¡¯m done with all these Twice-Lived.¡±
I was curious, ¡°Lord Samdi, are these special Twice-Lived. Do they have some affinity for magic? They are making armaments for the war effort. Do they send you ones with skills that you can use.¡±
Samdi laughed, ¡°You would think that they would send me the very best wouldn¡¯t you, dear boy. Alas, poor Samdi only gets the dregs. No these are the dregs. Simply normal Twice-Lived that they can spare. Nobody with any talent. Twice-Lived with actual talent is too important to waste on Samdi.¡±
¡°No each armament is connected to the Twice-Lived who makes its core, which are connected to a relay, which is connected elsewhere. They have dozens of patterns that they can cast, and I can get more by merely scrying my relay core for a list of useful patterns. Don¡¯t worry, once you get your status magic you will learn all of this.
¡°Would you like to try doing one yourself?¡± Lord Samdi said holding a drill. ¡°Your father made me a similar offer once long ago. It was a great honor.¡±
Of course, I didn¡¯t, I wanted to get out of there, so I said. ¡°Thank you for the honor, but this is a lot of information. I am overwhelmed. Maybe another time Lord Samdi.¡±
¡°Of course Lynx Elm. Of course. Before you go, I hope I¡¯m not stepping on any toes here, but have you ever considered joining another Order instead of the Inquisitors, my beautiful boy? It would be hard with your lineage, but the House of Status need Life Mages.¡±
¡°Why?¡± I asked.
¡°Oh, nothing. I just sometimes think I see a touch of sympathy for the livestock in your face. Nothing wrong with that. I remember long ago when I felt the same way. As citizens of the Empire sometimes the Empire requires us to do horrible things to protect and defend our homeland. Some people don¡¯t have the stomach for it. Some people do.¡±
¡°Thank you Samdi.¡±
¡°It was a pleasure dearest, Lynx Elm. A true pleasure.¡±
And I left.
Chapter 34 - The Day After The Rains
¡°¡ so Badger Alder didn¡¯t even look at me, and I said like ¡®yoo-hoo¡¯ and she just kept talking to Tiger Willow, like what a bitch, but that isn¡¯t the only thing I was with Red Panda and Badger the other day, and I went up to them after we had class with mage Strynx and they were both¡¡±
I was sitting on my cot in the Runner quarters while trying to figure out what the hell Fox Maple in the bed next to mine was talking about. She had been rambling for the last hour and a half straight, and I still didn¡¯t have the slightest clue about what she was talking about.
It was, however, the most she had ever said to me, and since she usually just blushed and tried to avoid me whenever I was around I was attempting to follow what she was saying.
It was hard.
¡°¡ and then Brazil-nut, that¡¯s my little cousin back home, said in a letter that she wanted to meet you and I said that she would have to come here and it was terrible up here, and the girls were so mean and said that you queefe in your sleep when you really don¡¯t, do I, and while I was writing her Red Panda came in and saw that I was writing¡¡±
I had spent the last month reading and practicing life detection magic. The principle was a bit like radar. I would send out a pulse of life magic, and it would reflect to me off living things while ignoring nearly everything else. The range was limited ¡ª about two hundred yards for most life mages who dedicated themselves to Detection Magic. I could manage about a mile and a half if I tried but I was beginning to realize I was a bit of a freak when it came to Life Affinity.
Of course, given that most areas were full of living things, from mice to people to grass and trees making sense of all the information was a big part of the study of the subject. There were runes dedicated to filtering out auras, sizes, affinities, blood, and all sorts of other factors. In a way casting a detect life spell was a lot like doing a database search or using an Internet Search Engine without the help of an algorithm.
What I wanted to do was get back to my book. But Fox Maple kept on talking.
¡°¡and then I said, ¡®you don¡¯t say,¡¯ and she said ¡®hell yeah, I say,¡¯ and I said ¡®oh no you don¡¯t,¡¯ and she said ¡®oh yes I do¡¯¡¡±
I nodded. ¡°Yeah, I understand,¡± I said not understanding at all.
Just then Red Panda came dashing into the room, ¡°I¡¯m going to visit my brother. Wanna come?¡±
Since getting shot at and potentially burnt alive was better than continuing the conversation I was having I said, ¡°Sounds fun. You don''t mind if I leave right Fox Maple? Or do you want to come?¡± I turned to Red Panda.
There was no chance of that since the two of them hated each other and you couldn¡¯t drag Fox Maple to the battlefield. Not even if you promised her cookies. ¡°Red Panda, Do you mind if Fox Maple comes?¡±
Red Panda shrugged. Shocked, I looked over at Fox Maple, now her face for some reason was as bright red as her hair. ¡°Mmmm, okay,¡± she said.
What fresh hell is this?
I strapped on my sword, and the three of us started walking through the fortress. Or rather, Red Panda and Fox Maple walked ahead while I trailed behind. After making a quick stop in the mess hall and picking up enough lunch for Terrald and his team of earth-affinity mages we started heading down the ramp to the front lines.
The sky overhead was a clear bright blue, but there was a strange fog that clung to the ground thickly over large parts of battlefield making it hard to see long distances from the ground. It had been raining for the last few days, and the earth everywhere was drenched.
¡°So, I¡¯ve been meaning to ask you, what do you think of Stansry,¡± I heard Fox Maple say to Red Panda.
¡°After what he pulled last week I don¡¯t like him.¡± Said Red Panda
¡°Who¡¯s Stansry?¡± I asked as we were walking down the path from the fortress to the lower level.
¡°Me neither,¡± said Fox Maple. ¡°He is supposed to teach. That is what he¡¯s there for isn¡¯t he? Our families pay good money for us to be here. For the experience, for the training, for the teaching.¡±
¡°Do they, my Father never told me,¡± said Red Panda, ¡°I just woke up one morning, and he said, ¡®Midget if you want to practice blowing things up, you are going to have to go where the people you blow up are trying to blow you up first. You are going to stay with your favorite brother.¡¯ I think he was joking mostly. I never blew anybody up. Not on purpose.¡±
¡°I never met your brother. What¡¯s he like? I¡¯m the only kid in my family. My Mom met my Dad serving as a runner like this fifteen years ago and wanted me to experience what they had experienced¡± Said, Fox Maple.
¡°Your dad met your mom as a runner?¡± I said.
¡°My brother is an idiot, but I like him,¡± said Red Panda ignoring me. ¡°He thinks he has to be responsible for me, but he¡¯s such a total pussy, and it isn¡¯t like I can¡¯t completely take care of myself.¡±
¡°It must be nice. Having someone to look out for you and having someone to look out for. I¡¯ve only got my parents, and they are usually deployed in different parts of the empire and only see each other every couple of years on leave.¡± Replied Fox Maple.
¡°I don¡¯t know my parents that well either,¡± I said.
¡°I¡¯ve heard of households like yours,¡± said Red Panda, ¡°It ain¡¯t my kind of thing, but I get it, military families, that are so devoted to the Empire that their career is their whole life.¡±
¡°Yeah. The servants raised me until I was five, Then my parents sent off to the military academy in the Capital. I was basically raised by staff and by moving from boarding school to boarding school and from post to post to the occasional battle like this one. Once my I was even stationed in at the same base as my dad was for six months. He¡¯s a Colonel and outranked me and was always busy, but it was nice to see him every couple weeks.¡± Said Fox Maple.
¡°How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?¡± I said.
¡°So are you going into the army when you get your status?¡± Red Panda said
¡°I don¡¯t know. I want to say yes. But I keep thinking that everything has all been planned out for me ever since I was born. I just don¡¯t know what else there is different to do. The only thing I know is our Empire¡¯s Military.¡±
¡°Foxy baby, are a ton of universities in the empire you could go to when you become an adult. I know you are mostly studying leadership and logistics up at the keep, but they''re a few years doing something else, anything else, can¡¯t hurt. Anything more than a year or two of this and it becomes a total snooze fest. If you go to University, you can always come back to the army afterward. And if you want to study something like Magic, Medicine, or Engineering the army can give scholarships people who are willing to serve afterward,¡± said Red Panda
¡°I like big butts, and I cannot lie,¡± I said.
¡°I don¡¯t have any magic,¡± said Fox Maple, ¡°I like math, but not enough to spend my life doing engineering, and you really need a life affinity to do Medicine.¡±
¡°That sucks balls,¡± said Red Panda.
¡°Not really, if I do decide to leave for a little while I¡¯m thinking about studying Military History and Tactics. They have a good program at Hapistrel University.¡±
¡°Fuck that, that¡¯s pretty much like just staying serving.¡±
¡°Except I¡¯d be out in the real world for a while, so I could decide if I really want to devote my life to this. What about you Red Panda?¡±
¡°I¡¯m a simple girl. I just wanna blow things up. All I need is to find the place where I can blow the most things up, is all. After that life is gravy.¡±
¡°And Lynx Elm is going into the Inquisition. That¡¯s a high position in the Empire. One of the core Imperial orders. They don¡¯t take many people,¡± said Fox Maple.
¡°He¡¯s already part of it, and I don¡¯t think he likes the idea much, or that he has many choices,¡± said Red Panda.
¡°Girls, I¡¯m right here!¡± I yelled.
¡°Oh hey, Lynx. I forgot you were back there,¡± said Fox Maple.
¡°Hey Lynx I kind of like firm muscular butts, but whatever gives you a woody when you wake up in the morning,¡± said Red Panda.
Fox Maple blushed.
We walked a little while longer in silence until we got to the first layer of trenches. The smell of rotting corpses, burnt flesh, and upturned earth were milder back here. Apparently the closer you got to the fourth trench, the worse it got.
The three of us walked single file towards the bunker where Red Panda¡¯s brother usually stayed. The mud was fresh and deep. In places, we had to wade up to our knees through stagnant muddy trench water. Fresh clothing, laundry, freedom from the insects, weather and a roof over our head was one of those differences between the front lines and those of us privileged to be back in the main headquarters. It made us spoilt, but I wouldn¡¯t change my place with these poor, dutiful men and women for anything.
We got to the place where Terrald Blue Panda Hazelnut was usually stationed and went down the steps into the cave-like barracks. It was filled with men and women relaxing and sleeping, but we couldn¡¯t find Terrald at his bunk.
¡°Hey, where¡¯s Terrald,¡± I asked a young corporal with the white stripes of life-affinity on his uniform and who looked like he had just gotten his status magic last solstice.
¡°It is an honor to be of service to a member of our Empire¡¯s Great Inquisition. Captain Terrald was called with the rest of his Earth Squad to shore up the fortifications in the fourth trench. He will be there for the rest of the week.¡± The corporal said.
¡°Ugh. Wasted trip. Well, at least I can see if any of the soldiers need any healing.¡± I said.
¡°Sir, are you authorized to heal? It isn¡¯t my place to question a superior officer or a member of the Grand and Mighty Inquisition, but sir you are a runner. In my training for my life-affinity certification my sergeant kept drilling into me that there is a chain of command about who is authorized to heal what and exactly how much, and who must not.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t worry about it¡. What was your name again?¡±
¡°Terce. Corporal Terce Lemming Lemon-grass.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t worry about it Corporal Terce; I¡¯m pretty much as far out of the chain of command as it is possible to be while still being part of it. Besides, I¡¯ve already cleared any random healing I do already with Tilde.¡±
¡°Lynx, why don¡¯t we go out and surprise Terrald in the fourth Trench. He¡¯s probably bored out of his mind. He and his team could use the lunch we brought them.¡± Said Red Panda
¡°Red Panda, you seriously want us to wander up and down the fourth trench looking for your brother. We don¡¯t know where he is. There are miles of fortification out there where he could be,¡± I said.
¡°I know where Captain Terrald is, and I would be my honor to guide a member of the Inquisition and his associates out there,¡± said Corporal Terce. ¡°I''m supposed to be back to the fourth trench already, anyway. This morning I helped carry a stretcher to the hospital and was due back at my position an hour ago.¡±
¡°You girls want to go?¡± I asked.
Fox Maple shrugged, ¡°Might as well; I¡¯ve never been that far forward in the lines. Could be a good learning experience.¡±
Corporal Terce took the lead, followed by Fox Maple, then me, while Red Panda brought up the rear. Down on the battlefield, the fog wasn¡¯t necessarily as thick as it looked from up above, but it did weird things to perspective and vision. Out of curiosity I looked at it with my mage sight and saw no trace of magic. But the abnormal opacity in the air and strange way it was behaving worried me.
¡°So Lynx, why don¡¯t you bang Fox Maple. You know she wants it.¡± Red Panda said.
This was a conversation that I had been dreading having for a while now. It had become obvious that Fox Maple had a bit of a crush on me. The problem was that while my body was nearly 15 years old, due to the whole twice lived thing I was mentally a whole lot older. Nobody in this culture would blink an eye if the two of us got together, but the idea of having sex with a 14-year-old girl still made me nauseous.
¡°I¡¯ve been seeing Lieutenant Kimber in the Hospital. You know the tall, pretty blonde life-affinity girl.¡± I said.
¡°What? And you didn¡¯t tell me. Isn¡¯t she ancient.¡±
¡°She¡¯s only 21. And she¡¯s fun to talk to. Besides most of the runners are usually up in the fort, and I spend most of my time down in my office waiting for the off chance someone has a request for Samdi. The hospital is nearby. One thing just leads to another. It¡¯s only happened a couple of times. I seduced her, but I think she thinks I¡¯m too young.¡± I said.
¡°Well if you are into MILF who am I to judge. Who knows maybe Fox might be into threesomes.¡± Red Panda said, and I shuddered.
¡°You know I can hear you,¡± said Fox Maple who had stopped and turned towards us, her face redder than I think I¡¯d ever seen it before.
¡°Sorry Fox,¡± I said. ¡°For everything.¡± Then trying to change the subject I spoke a bit louder and said, ¡°So Corporal, how long have you been in the army.¡±
¡°Since I got my copper status a few months ago in Larkin,¡± said Terce
¡°Oh really? I was in Larkin at the same time. I can¡¯t believe you joined and got here before I did. I admit that I took my time, but I didn¡¯t think I was that slow.¡±
¡°No, I came in with the other recruits. Those of us who joined in Larkin trained there for a month, and then we waited while the Empire¡¯s three space-affinity mages opened a gate from Larkin to Devotion Valley.¡±
I thought about it for a second, ¡°So what made you want to be a soldier if you don¡¯t mind my asking? I know that with the three of us, we are all here because of family. Is it the same with you?¡±
¡°No. Not really,¡± said the corporal, ¡°I wanted to be a farmer like my parents. But then when I was in Larkin, and the Necromancer was on the loose, it was just so terrifying. Then when the brave inquisitor Lord Er captured him and his accomplices, something inside of me just knew that my duty was to the Empire and to protect it.¡±
¡°There was a friggin Necromancer in Larkin while you were there Lynx, and you didn¡¯t mention it,¡± said Red Panda.
¡°That¡¯s because it wasn¡¯t something I wanted to be reminded of. The Necromancer was a guy I had been training with over the last year. Lord Er told Wilmette to leave and then just rounded up some patsies. Basically some kids just off the farm and used them as a scapegoat to calm the city down. I really don¡¯t like talking about it. Bad memories.¡±
¡°YOU¡¯RE LYING!¡±, shouted corporal Terce. ¡°Lord Er is an honorable man who defeated the necromancer in single combat and fights against evil in its purest form on a daily basis. He did his duty as a member of the holy inquisition by keeping the darkness that lurks in the night and the perils of the twice lived at bay.¡±
I rolled my eyes but said nothing.
¡°The empire is the greatest institution in the world to bring the brightness of civilization out to the savages and barbarians lurk and probe our borders always for weakness. That¡¯s why I joined the army. To bring civilization to the savages and to defend my family from the baby killers we fight every day. Someone should report your seditious speech to the Noble Lord Samdi or Lord General Aram,¡± continued the corporal.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
¡°Maybe you are right. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe we are out here risking our lives to spread civilization to the poor deprived barbarians and to protect our families from baby rapists. Maybe we aren¡¯t trying to expand into new territory that includes a primordial dungeon.¡± I said.
¡°Shut up Lynx. I happen to agree with the corporal,¡± said Fox Maple.
¡°Seriously Fox, the Noble Lord Samdi?¡± I said.
¡°Well, the empire isn''t perfect, but on the whole, it is a force for good in this world.¡± Fox Maple said, ¡°and there will always be some people in any culture who are insane or are criminals. There might even be institutions that have become corrupt or short-sighted. But you can¡¯t just condemn the good that the Empire does by only looking at the bad. Since the ascension of our glorious Emperor, may she live forever, there have been dozens of colleges and universities founded, everybody has access to status magic, trade between cities has expanded, the military teaches the poor valuable skills, and the plague of the Twice-Lived is kept in check. Just the simple fact that we have the freedom to stand here discussing this proves how great the Empire is.¡±
I sighed since I really didn¡¯t have anything to say to that.
As we neared the fourth trench, the sound of the fireballs flying through the air and the noise from the explosions grew louder. Every once in a while bursts of rapid-fire flew over our heads from the Empire¡¯s equivalent to machine guns emplacements. The smell was terrible; a mixture of ammonia and decomposing corpses.
It was slow going. There was no direct route unless you wanted to risk cutting across the no man¡¯s land that was lined with barbed wire while tiny balls of rapid-fire flames whizzed overhead and arrows from enemy soldiers constantly fell from the sky.
There were connecting channels dug deep between the different trenches that zigzagged along the landscape but they were few. Mostly the system was meant as a way for a limited number of soldiers to move from one fortification to the next, safely but slowly, while providing choke points just in case the enemy captured one of the lines. There were places that were tunnels underground, but they were few. And because of the rains, many of these tunnels were submerged. In these spots we had to belly-crawl through the mud under the barbed wire, all the time hoping that one of the rare enemy arrows shot by someone with a touch of air or gravity affinity wouldn¡¯t find us as we made our way forward.
Someone had handed us helmets back in the second trench, and we were glad for them as we huddled and scurried and crawled behind corporal Terce. Eventually, we made it to a location where the accumulation of rain and constant explosions of fire from the enemy pyromancer had caused a part of the fourth trench to cave in.
We walked through ankle-deep mud that occasionally became waist deep puddles. I pretended not to notice the blood in the water or the occasional bit of human flesh that the cleanup crews had missed. Up ahead Red Panda¡¯s brother Terrald was working with his crew trying to repair the damage. Terrald as the most powerful earth mage of the team would cast runes, slowly parting the bulk of the mud that had submerged and filled the trenches, like Moses parting the red sea. Watching the rest with my mage sight, I could see the rest of his team working on stabilizing the walls, while another team pulled the bodies of soldiers who had died in the mudslide out from the dirt.
Out here the distortions due to the fog let off, and I could see the enemy lines. Looking back I could see our headquarters through the billowing smoke and haze. Something odd was happening, I just couldn¡¯t put my finger on what it was.
The work was slow and brutal, and it was made worse by the constant rain of arrows and explosions that fell around the group. It was like the enemy knew that something important was happening around this location ¡ª that there was a good chance of taking out some officers or high ranking mages ¡ª and as a result, there was a lot of focused fire falling around us.
Terrald saw us, ¡°you shouldn¡¯t be here¡.
He continued, ¡°¡.we have a major flanking action planned if they have the balls to take advantage of this, but this point right here¡ we¡¯re sitting in bait central. There is a pillbox a hundred yards over there. I plan to retreat into it with my team when the shit gets heavy. Get in and stay down. It isn¡¯t safe, but it is too late to get you back to the fort ¡ª Corporal what the hell were you thinking when you brought these children out here. Never mind. But we will have words if we survive the evening.¡±
The four of us retreated into the pillbox that Terrald had pointed too. Was a concrete structure that opened into the trench. A short incline led down to a deep enclosure held up by pillars and the walls, even though they were lined with sandbags lying up against magic reinforced concrete walls, still shook every time an explosion sounded nearby.
Two corporals with the red stripe of fire affinity and another with the dark blue of water affinity stood watching out a small slit window towards the battlefield. They guarded a massive machine gun mounted on a tripod except there was no visible ammunition and there was a mid-sized dungeon core built in over the trigger.
They weren¡¯t firing, and they seemed to be waiting for something.
I sat down on a sandbag and leaned back against the wall. The explosions sounded near and far outside, in a morbid Poisson distribution. The sound rang through the enclosed space of the pillbox, coming in through the door we¡¯d come down and through slit window.
Listening to the sounds of the explosions I said, ¡°I wonder how old the core that damned pyromancer¡¯s using. I don¡¯t know where he gets the mana to keep throwing fireballs at us.¡±
¡°I asked Terrald what he knew about it, ¡®cuz those are some awesome explosions. Command estimates it is around 9000 years old. According to Terrald, it might be one of oldest conduit cores in the world. Of course, nobody from the Empire has seen it,¡± said Red Panda.
I laughed, ¡°what would you do with a core like that.¡±
The explosions kept getting nearer.
¡°Blowing things up already makes me tingle down there. You can¡¯t imagine the mind-blowing orgasms I would have if I had that core. A girl doesn¡¯t need a man, she just needs a really big fire, and that-there core makes the biggest fires,¡± said Red Panda.
The two fire affinity soldiers manning the guns turned to us and made a violent shushing motion. ¡°Be quiet¡± the first of them stage-whispered at us, ¡°They¡¯re coming.¡±
Terrald came running down the ramp into the pillbox, followed by about six people, who were wearing the orange stripes of earth affinity. Terrald was the only officer in the group which usually meant that his team was made up of soldiers who had been discovered to have a minor affinity while they were serving.
¡°They¡¯re coming!¡± yelled Terrald. ¡°Get behind sandbags, you sons and daughters of bitches. They¡¯re fucking coming.¡±
Then the booming of the explosions stopped all around us. Silence except for screams of wounded men and women who weren¡¯t anywhere near a medic or life mage or even a friend to drag them to safety.
We crowded behind bags of sand. The fire mages stood by their guns. With my mage sight, I could see the earth mages doing everything they could to reinforce the strength of the enclosure we were hiding inside. Through the tiny slit window I could see the dimmest sliver of a cloudless bright cerulean blue sky, then arrows began to fall like rain.
¡°Hold, don¡¯t fire,¡± commanded Terrald. ¡°We need them to think that this section is weak and exposed. When command instant messages me word, I will give the order to fire.¡±
We waited in silence, crouched down behind the sandbags. Outside the rain of arrows continued and I could hear the screams and cries of people who had been hit who were hurt or bleeding and needed a healer. Then even from my limited vantage through the slit looking out, I could see an eery translucent green glow.
¡°Shit!¡±, One of the gunners said, ¡°they¡¯re coming in with force mages. They have a shield up.¡±
¡°Hold. Be calm. Don¡¯t fire.¡± Said Terrald. ¡°According to a message I just got from command the force shield isn¡¯t a bubble, it only protects the front. Wait until they try to push past the breach in line four, and we¡¯ll rain fire and hell with everything we¡¯ve got from the sides. Just like the plan.¡±
¡°But sir. We have soldiers out there. They¡¯re being slaughtered. We have to do something.¡±
¡°Far less than you¡¯d think. I¡¯m told command ¡®ported in a specialized squad of light, sound, and darkness affinity mages to cast illusions of dying soldiers. They arrived two hours ago. Political bastards in command could be lying to me though. I wouldn¡¯t put it past some of those sons of bitches to throw real lives away to use as a distraction. I trust Lord General Aram though. Now shut the fuck up and let me concentrate.¡±
We waited in the kind of surreal silence where we were surrounded by noises of death and dying all around us, of screaming and burning and killing, of footsteps and marching stepping through the mud and the gore, while we hoped they wouldn¡¯t see our hidden little hidey-hole.
¡°They¡¯re getting close,¡± said the gunner.
¡°Hold,¡± said Terrald.
¡°They have a fire wand with them. If they get near enough, they will burn us out, if we don¡¯t kill them first.¡±
¡°Hold. Just a little longer.¡± Said Terrald.
¡°Just a little longer¡. Fire!¡±
As soon as Terrald spoke a stream of tiny fireballs started to shoot out of the barrel of the gun. With my mage sight, I could see runes come into being around the gun as mana poured into both soldiers with fire-affinity. The water affinity soldier started to conjure small balls of cold water to keep the gun barrel cool.
Unlike a traditional heavy machine gun, there was no recoil and virtually no noise except a steady crackle of flames from the sound of oxygen being consumed.
Through the thin slot, the sky lit up. Instead of just the blue of the sky and the green of the force shield, fire arrows now fell from our side. Battle cries rang out as our soldiers who had remained hidden and pulled back to the flanks, letting the enemy soldiers in to what they assumed was weak spot charged out, to try to cut the mass of enemies who had managed to gain a foothold in our territory off from retreat. While heavy weaponry and bombardments pummeled their center.
For an instant, it seemed like it would work.
¡°Holy Fuck,¡± yelled Terrald who had been watching the battle from the command screens of his status, ¡°Their force screen just became a bubble around the entire vanguard. They must have been hiding a high affinity mage or someone with a force affinity core in there. They¡¯ve taken a spot right by the third Trench.¡±
The gunners in our pillbox kept firing at enemy soldiers who hadn¡¯t made it to the safety of the force shield. But there were very few.
¡°New orders. We need to hit that force shield with everything we¡¯ve got. I¡¯m going to make a new opening facing towards it. Reposition the gun,¡± said Terrald.
Terrald began to channel mana through earth runes and the slit that had been facing forward began to rotate slowly around the circumference of the pillbox that we were in, until the opening was facing thirty degrees away from where we¡¯d been looking before.
From here I could see a green bubble blotting out the sky while a constant barrage from the ballista positioned in the mountains around the base with the specialized exploding heads that Samdi and his Twice-Lived made struck the force shied trying to bring it down.
Then I saw a small space in the force shield open up and a fireball shot out.
¡°The mother fucking Pyromancer is behind our lines. He¡¯s with them. He¡¯s fucking with them.¡±
The earth began to shake as explosions began to hit the earth repeatedly.
Terrald turned to us. ¡°We need to get that force shield down as quickly as possible. I hate to ask this, but Midget, would you mind adding your affinity to the gun? The son of a bitch is pummeling the headquarters. He landed a ball of plasma right in the hospital. But he¡¯s more vulnerable now than he¡¯s ever been before. If we can take out that shield, we have that son of a bitch.¡±
Red Panda got up from behind the sand bags that she¡¯d been hiding behind and scurried over to the gun. She concentrated a bit. She had been paying attention to what the gunners had been doing. I wouldn¡¯t have been surprised to have learned that she had begged someone to let her play with one of these machine guns the first day she¡¯d been stationed at this fortress.
Instead of the ping pong sized fireballs that had steadily been shooting out of the gun, the fireballs that now shot out were the size of watermelons and were colored white-blue instead of the orange-red that they¡¯d been before. The water mage kept a steady stream of water falling on the gun barrel, but now the water turned to steam as soon as it it the barrel.
Watching the water mage, I cast the runes he was using and managed to make a small trickle of water appear. The amount of water I could summon wasn¡¯t a lot, basically the same splatter volume as that last trickle of piss that streams out of your dick when you¡¯re almost done pissing but still haven¡¯t shaken yourself off, but I got up anyway and began helping to keep the machine gun cool. Some help was better than nothing.
The fire coming from the gun that Red Panda was influencing was now clearly having an effect on the force shield. Explosions and more fire from other guns rippled across its surface. But the pyromancer inside was giving back as good as he got. Fireball after fireball now that he was in range streaked towards the headquarters.
From my viewpoint, right at the slit in the pillbox, I could see people running between buildings on fire. I could see the hospital where I had volunteered was now a smoldering pile of lava. So was the entrance to the barracks and the command center. The ramp up to the fort was in shambles.
Red Panda was having the time of her life. ¡°Oh lord, oh lord, OH LORD, Uhhhhhhh. YES, YES, YES.¡± And she had a hand down the front of her pants. Yet somehow the fireballs that she was summoning only got bigger, faster and more ferocious, the more she moaned.
The gun that Red Panda was controlling was doing far more damage to the force shield than all the other destruction being thrown against it. As I watched the shield began to flicker.
Maybe in desperation, maybe because the pyromancer figure that he or she could do no more damage to the main base, maybe that mage just wanted to get rid of a nuisance. Regardless, the focus of the enemy pyromancer¡¯s fire switched all of a sudden, and fireball after fire ball began to be launched at our tiny pill box.
Red Panda kept firing. The force shield came flickered one last time and came down. Then a ball of flame came streaking out of the sky from the center of where the force shield had been and all the world exploded.
Who know how much time passed before I woke up. I suppose if I had status magic I could tell you to the exact second with some sort of internal clock function. But I did not know. I awoke and found myself covered in burns. The amulet that Lord Samdi had given me the first time I had met him which was supposed to protect me from the fire had been destroyed.
I quickly cast healing runes on myself before I could go back into shock. Most of my burns faded away. The nearest sand bags had fused together into glass. Where Terrald had been standing there was now something twisted in a black vaguely human shape, I could see his teeth where the skin on his face had burnt away, and the permanent rictus of pain in which he had died. There were three other corpses that were more charcoal than human.
I heard coughing from the very back of the bunker behind some sandbags. I rushed over. Corporal Terce had somehow survived, but he was in bad shape. I healed him up as quickly as I could, and said ¡°help me see if anybody else survived. You are a life mage, help me heal anybody. I need help.¡±
Fox Maple lay on the ground a short distance away from him. I ran over to her, and cast life runes and healing runes into her. Nothing. She just lay there dead. I rolled her over to try to perform CPR, anything to get her heart started again, and saw that her entire back had been burnt to utter blackness.
I looked over at Terce. He stood still, rocking back and forth, doing nothing. I saw that he had wet himself. I chose to ignore him.
Red Panda was at the front of the pillbox. She lay slouched over the machine gun. I saw teeth and blackened bones and ashes where the gunners had been standing, but somehow Red Panda was largely intact. Her fire affinity must have shielded her from the blast.
I ran over to her, and again force life and healing runes to settle into and over her body, but she was dead.
I yelled ¡°FUCK!¡±
And tried healing her again. Fuck this. I healed every wound on her body. But she was still dead. Then I extended a tendril of my Witch¡¯s knack into her body and let a slow trickle of my own life force leak into her. But she stayed dead. I refused to accept it. Fuck this. And I did something I had vowed to hide. While letting my life from my Witches Knack flow into Red Panda, I began to use my Major Healing Knack on Red Panda.
At first, the process was slow. Like the Knack was looking for something to heal but couldn¡¯t find things, but then it started to settle on Red Panda¡¯s brain and in her heart, and merged in a completely unexpected way with the life I was pumping into her. And with my mage sight, I saw her aura start to throb and pulse with both life and healing, and an emptiness that until that point I hadn¡¯t been aware of began to be filled.
Then Red Panda began to breathe.
I sat down emotionally exhausted. Watching Red Panda¡¯s chest rise and then fall, rise and then fall was something so beautiful and remarkable that it was all I could do to hold back the tears that wanted to trickle down my cheeks.
¡°You healed her.¡± Said Terce who was still standing where I had last seen him.
¡°Yes.¡±
¡°You used the major healing knack.¡±
¡°No, I didn¡¯t,¡± I said. ¡°She wasn¡¯t that badly hurt.¡±
¡°My grand mother used to tell me stories about Sanyo the Healer and the miracles he did when he lived nearly 500 years ago. He was a savior to the common people. We still have festivals in his name. I know what you did, you used a healing knack. Will you spread your miracle far and wide like Sanyo did. I can¡¯t wait to tell everyone what I saw.¡± Terce said.
¡°You are mistaken. I just used regular healing runes. I am just a lot more experienced with them than you are and have a lot more affinity. You are mistaking everyday normal magic with fairy tales. Besides even if I did have a healing knack and I don¡¯t, Healers are hunted down in this empire and killed.¡±
¡°Those are viscous lies about our empire, and you are lying to me. Why do you hate the land of your own country. People in this country don¡¯t kill healers. We celebrate them. Saint Sanyo day is a holiday when we hold a feast in his name and hope for another person to take his place.¡±
¡°Sanyo was killed by the Emperor who took his knack as his own.¡±
¡°LIAR! FILTHY DIRTY LIAR!¡±
¡°Wait, wait, wait. It doesn¡¯t matter anyway I only used every day normal healing runes on Red Panda. I know you don¡¯t believe me, but I did. I swear to you on my love and respect for the Inquisition I hold so dear. Come, we still have to check to see if those other three earth mages survived.
I pushed myself to my feet, and slowly began to walk over to the last three bodies I hadn¡¯t checked yet. It lay next to a part of the roof that had caved in. ¡°Terce come help me.¡±
Terce came over but he muttered under his breath, ¡°You do have a Healing Knack, I don¡¯t care what you say.¡±
I kneeled down next to the corpse of the first one of Captain Terrald¡¯s Squad. I could already tell he was dead, but I said, ¡°I don¡¯t sense any sign of life in this woman, do you Corporal?¡±
Terce knelt down to check.
And as Terce was focused on the body, I activated my body knack and pumped strength, speed, force into myself and in the one second of hyper speed I had drove my dagger up through the roof of Terce¡¯s mouth and into his brain.
Then I waited the five seconds to pass and forcing my body knack into overdrive again, I lifted the part of the ceiling that had fallen in just enough to drop it down on Terce¡¯s head. If anybody bothered to ask, the corporal had died bravely in the aftermath of the fireball when the roof had fallen on him and crushed his skull.
Quickly checking on the last two people in Terrald¡¯s team who I discovered were dead, I went back to Red Panda and got her in a fireman¡¯s carry and lifted her out of the pillbox to the trenches outside.
The battlefield was completely different from what I expected. Firstly the strange fog that was distorting the landscape so oddly was gone. Secondly, the area where Terrald had assured us illusions of soldiers were, were filled with hundreds, maybe even a thousand, dead or wounded troops in the uniform of our Empire. When I turned towards the headquarters, none of the destruction I had witnessed during the battle seemed to have happened to it. Instead, a large section of the mountain where nothing was, except for some ballista emplacements, were scarred with burn marks and vast swatches of it was melted.
Thousands of enemy troops lay dead where their barrier had fallen down. Elite troops by the looks of it. There was still sporadic burst of fighting, but for the most part, the enemy seemed to be surrounded and surrendering.
Of the pyromancer, there was no trace.
Chapter 35 - Tentacle Monster
By the time I got back to the second trench people were running back and forth with stretchers. I waved two stretcher bearers over and carefully put Red Panda onto the linen surface they were carrying. Her breathing had steadied, but she was still unconscious. ¡°I¡¯ll follow you to the hospital.¡±
We ran overland, through the shredded and flattened remains of barbed wire. Through whole areas where the surface of the battlefield had become pumice and in places obsidian. There were traces of the dead everywhere. In one place I saw a charred hand reaching out from a bed of glass as if forever grasping for something. Further on I saw the remains of someone whose feet had got caught in the tail end of the lava ¡ª the rest of his body lay on the ground unharmed a little further on, but there were charred stumps his feet had melted away.
I was almost at the hospital when the fireballs began to fly across the sky.
They originated from way back in the enemy lines. At first, there was one. Then a short pause. Then there was another one. And another one. Soon the sky was as filled with the falling balls of flame as it had once been before the battle had happened.
¡°Fucker,¡± I said.
¡°Fucker,¡± agreed both stretcher bearers.
They laid the stretcher holding Red Panda down on a hospital gurney and then sat for a bit to rest before heading back out to gather more wounded. Other soldiers were coming in off the battlefield. Some on stretchers, some were being carried by friends, some had managed to crawl or limp most of the way on their own until someone could help them.
I began to help with the triage. Most of the Medical staff were down from the fort performing and had been performing surgery frantically through the night. Get the wounded stable. Save as many people as possible. Don¡¯t waste too much mana if you don¡¯t have to. Anybody who doesn¡¯t need surgery immediately can wait.
Hours passed. I would run out to the battlefield as wounded, and burnt soldiers were being brought in. Some people were barely holding on, and I helped them hold on a little longer. I helped push the pain away in some.
Four men had carried one of their friends from the trenches. The friend they brought in was barely holding on, his spine was fractured, one of his legs had fourth-degree burns all over it. The only reason he was conscious was that his friends had been keeping him alive with the kind of weak healing potions that soldiers could afford. He¡¯d grown up in the same village as them, they¡¯d all signed up together. They begged me not to let him die.
Typically, I would have taken the pain away. Stabilizing him enough, to wait for enough surgery to make it through the night would have drained me half my mana. There were a lot of wounded coming in. But the way his friends looked at me. The way the guy had held on for so long¡
So I healed him. Not the whole way. But just enough so that he would last until one of the medics could see him. Then when his friends were thanking me, I used my Witch¡¯s skill to siphon off a bit of life from each of the friends, to take what I had depleted. I don¡¯t know if they noticed. One after the other they must have felt a prick like a mosquito. Or not. I didn¡¯t drink deeply, and I didn¡¯t get back everything the healing took, but it allowed me to go on. It was the first time I¡¯d used my Witch¡¯s ability to steal life and convert to mana so openly.
The night stretched into dawn against a cacophony of people screaming and dying while the booms of fireballs burst across the battlefield far away. I became inured to death that surrounded me as worked while simultaneously working to keep it at bay.
Every couple hours as I worked someone came up to me with a bottle of fruit juice, a mana potion, and some light food. I would wash the blood off my hands and sit for five or ten minutes eating, drinking and catching my breath, then dive back into the work.
The flow of the wounded seemed endless, I continued healing where I could, conserving my mana, administering potions to the very most straightforward cases, giving drabs of healing to stabilize the worst, sometimes even using my Witches knack stealing life from the most alive so that I could keep the most hopeless cases from dying. All the while keeping my Healing Knack hidden while knowing just how much help it would be.
Hours into my work I felt someone watching me and turned and saw Red Panda, but just before I could disengage with the soldier I was healing I turned, and she was gone.
Then the next day turned into the next evening, as I was nearing exhaustion, Tilde came out and patted me on my back and said, ¡°go take a rest, get some sleep, you earned it.¡±
¡°What was the point. How did that fucker get away,¡± I said.
¡°People have been asking me that all night. All I can tell you is what I told them. I don¡¯t know. You¡¯ll have to ask someone who''s more in the actual chain of command than me if you want answers.¡± Tilde said, ¡°now stop worrying and go get some sleep.¡±
It was too far up to the ramp to the fortress in the mountain, and I didn¡¯t want to stay in the apartments that they set aside for the physicians on duty. My office near Samdi¡¯s rooms had a cot that I sometimes used, and it wasn¡¯t that far away, so I shuffled in exhaustion until I found my way there.
My dreams were angry and fitful. Filled with visions of sheep burning and fire falling from the sky like rain as I ran from some nameless, faceless monster that may have been myself and may have been Terce and may have been Terrald.
I awoke screaming.
Red Panda was sitting in the chair by my desk dressed in a backless hospital gown. I rolled over and looked at her, and she looked at me. Neither of us spoke what seemed like endless hours, but then she said ¡°What happened. I don¡¯t remember anything.¡±
¡°I woke up. I was lying on the floor. I had an amulet that I got from Samdi that protected me somewhat from the fire. I healed myself from the rest. I went from person to person checking to see if anybody else was alive. Everyone else had either been burned to death or been crushed when a part of the ceiling collapsed. Your affinity saved you, but you were badly wounded. I healed some of that then dragged you back here.¡±
¡°And my brother? What happened to Terrald?¡±
I looked away. ¡°There was nothing I could do. There was nothing I could do about any of them.¡±
Red Panda got up and walked out of the room.
¡°Wait,¡± I said, but she kept walking.
I got up and stumbled to the nearest bathroom that had a shower and cleaned myself off. Then I went and had a meal in the mess before finding my way back to the hospital. All that day and night and part of the next day I continued to help with the incoming wounded. It was slow, tiring work. A lot of the people who were being brought in now had been trapped in the mud in addition to being burnt or shot, and so a water affinity mage was on hand washing people while I worked to keep them alive.
As I worked, I started hearing people around me talking about ¡°he teleported out.¡± And when I stopped to ask a Captain who had come to see some of the wounded enlisted under his command, I was told that ¡°the fucker fell into the trap right good, he was wasting his mana shooting at an illusion of the headquarters while we took down his force shield to get to him. We had four mages laying down a teleport block. One of those mages was one of the Emperors Advisors ¡ª the head of House Termass ¡ª one of the oldest most powerful mages in the empire. There was no way the fucker could have gotten out, but the fucker somehow got out.¡±
Again the day turned into night and the night turned again into day, and the wounded kept coming. I once again stumbled off to my cot when it got to the point I could no longer stand and slept for a few hours only to stumble back out again a few hours later when I woke up again.
I lost track of how many people I helped. It must have been hundreds, but it very likely could have been a number in the thousands. At a certain point, everything just became a blur. Keep people alive long enough so that someone with more skills with a knife can make sure they live long enough to recover.
Some carts would pull up to carry away the dead who I couldn¡¯t help. When I asked I was told that they were building a cemetery in a quiet valley on the other side of the pass.
Late one afternoon on who knows how many days into this mess a soldier came looking for me. By then the ebb of newly wounded had slowed down. ¡°Colonel Sanbon Kestrel Brown-Rice would like to speak with you. Follow me,¡± The soldier said.
I was led to through the underground section of the main base to the ground level headquarters, then taken into the administrative offices. The colonel wore a brown, an orange, a red, and a blue stripe on his uniform. A powerful elemental mage, Colonel Sanbon was probably in charge of the elemental affinity troops in the army.
¡°Sit down Runner and Inquisitor Lynx Elm. I¡¯ve spoken with Runner Red Panda Elm, but I would like to get your account of the events that occurred around the death of Captain Terrald Blue Panda Hazelnut. The lieutenant is here because he has a transcription skill module installed with his Silver Status, so keep in mind that your account is being recorded and may be reviewed later.¡±
I nodded and began to tell the Colonel precisely what had happened that day leaving out only my use of my healing knack and that I had murdered Terce.
When I was finished speaking the Colonel spoke and said, ¡°You children shouldn¡¯t have been out there, but I¡¯ll be honest, I¡¯m glad you were. Red Panda Elm¡¯s help on the Phlogiston gun turned the tide of the battle. I¡¯m glad that you could heal her, too bad you couldn¡¯t save Terrald. He was a good officer. He should have been safe in that pillbox during the battle. If we¡¯d know that it would be such a nexus of heavy fire, we would have given him a fire amulet like the one you wore. Frankly, we¡¯d expected the pyromancer to waste his strength on our the illusion of the headquarters.¡±
¡°But what is done, is done. Thank you, Runner and Inquisitor Lynx Elm for your account and your assistance in the hospital during the aftermath. You are dismissed.¡±
¡°That¡¯s it,¡± I said. ¡°The war just goes on. Why didn¡¯t we get that pyromancer fucker? I lost a couple of friends in that battle. People I¡¯ve known for years.¡±
¡°Son, we all lost friends. You might not know this, but one of the Empire¡¯s vampires was on hand to help prevent that son of a bitch Pyromancer from teleporting out. Termass himself was just yards away from where we are right now casting spells so thick even someone without mage sight could see them. And that son of a whore still got away. There are more far powerful people than you, and I ask ¡®why¡¯ right now.¡± The colonel said.
¡°Now you¡¯ve had a hard few days. We all have. But as a superior officer, I have the luxury of being able to give you orders that my own superior officer wouldn¡¯t dare give me. Lieutenant Lynx Elm, I am giving you a direct order to retire to the runner¡¯s dorm and take some time off. Sleep. Rest. Take a shower. Have some food. Cheer up Lieutenant Red Panda Elm. Find a pretty girl or boy and fuck their brains out. Whatever. I don¡¯t care. But if I see you down here working for seven days, you will be in violation of a direct order, and I will see you court-martialed. I will pass this order along to your superiors. Are we clear?¡±
¡°Yes sir,¡± I said.
¡°What¡¯s that soldier?¡± The colonel said.
¡°YES, SIR!¡±
¡°That¡¯s better. Dismissed.¡±
I headed out of the administration area, but as I was going, I heard a part of a conversation.
¡°¡ that core.¡±
¡°But sire, we underestimated his strength. At least we recovered the force core. That must mean something.¡±
¡°Compared to the fire core the force core it is a mere bobble¡¡±
I hurriedly continued outside not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. Then once outside I started the long slow walk up to the keep.
The summer was turning into fall, and there was a crispness to the air. The sun shone brightly on the grey-white rocks, and in the distance the charred-melted surfaces of the surrounding mountains reflected the light of the sun like mirrors, flashing and twinkling in places. Idly I thought that the reflections would look beautiful in the setting sun before catching myself and remembering just how those smooth mirror flat surfaces came to be.
Up in the fortress I walked through the bailey other runners waved at me, and I waved back more out of reflex and duty than my usual friendship. I made my way down to the runner¡¯s headquarters, and Cham waved me over. He was still dressed all in red and still for some reason looked like a demented Santa Claus, but I had grown to like him over the years.
¡°Ho! Ho! Ho! Lynx Elm, still not wearing the sash I got for you? It is only right that you display your runner and your Inquisitor status at all times or else someone might mistake you for one, and not the other. There are times when both are important.¡±
¡°I¡¯m going to the dorm,¡± I said.
¡°I heard. I heard. Terrible day indeed. Colonel Sanbon messaged me some very strange orders. Said that you were to rest for seven days. Odd that. Gave the same orders to Red Panda Elm. The terrible thing about her brother. The poor dear hasn¡¯t left the dorm since she was debriefed by Sanbon,¡± said Cham.
¡°I¡¯ll look in on her,¡± I said.
¡°Not sure how much help you can be. Other runner¡¯s, like little darlings, have been going to visit her to try and cheer her up, Ho! Ho! Ho! But the poor dear has just lain in her cot staring at the wall saying nothing.¡±
I walked into the dorm, and sure enough, Red Panda was curled up on her cot in the fetal position. She had her knees wrapped around her legs and was rocking back and forth, back and forth. I walked over to her and sat down on the cot beside her¡¯s.
¡°How¡¯s it going Red?¡± I said.
Red Panda said nothing.
¡°If you want, I can steal some of the Lord General¡¯s whiskey, and we can get totally drunk, and we can go make fun of Merf and then throw stones off the Barbican at the other runners. I know a spell that can give a goat herpes, I¡¯m sure I can adapt it enough to give that same herpes to Merf.¡±
Red Panda, looked at me. ¡°Why did Terrald have to die. He was my favorite brother.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know. That is the way the world works. If I could do something to save him, I would, but I can¡¯t. As far as I know, there is no such thing as time affinity, and his body was too badly damaged for me to even try to heal.¡± I said.
¡°Did I kill him. The Pyromancer started to shoot at us because I was tearing down his force shield. Is Terrald dead because of me.¡±
¡°You didn¡¯t kill Terrald, the Pyromancer did. And you saved hundreds, maybe even thousands of lives. I¡¯ve spent the last few days working in the hospital, helping the wounded. That they are only wounded, and not dead is because of you. Terrald would probably say exactly the same thing. He was a soldier. Soldiers risk their lives. Would he or I have done things differently had we know what would have happened, of course, we would, but we can¡¯t go back in time to fix things.¡±
¡°Then why does it hurt so much. It hurts so much in my heart and in my stomach. I can hardly carry it.¡±
¡°That pain tells you, you are alive. Part of it will never go away, the part that will always carry a bit of Terrald inside you, but the rest will fade with time. Cheer up Red Panda. It will get better,¡± I said.
I woke up early the next morning.
During the last few days of intense healing, I had gotten used to using my Witch knack to steal just small amounts of life and mana from the healthy people around me, and as I walked through the runner dorm, the mess hall, and the keep, I filled my reserves up.
I was dressed as a runner, with no trace anywhere of my inquisition status. And when I moved into a latrine, I shifted my face and body to match Runner Tiger Willow, and using his appearance ran out of the keep and down to the battlefield below.
Down below I tracked down the quartermaster''s headquarters. It wasn¡¯t open yet, but I didn¡¯t care. I had been busy studying the runes to get past wards and to open magical locks. I had even learned a bit of old-fashioned lock picking during my studies, and in a matter of seconds with nobody watching me I was inside the stores. In the back room I found a surplus uniform in my size, surplus swords, and surplus backpacks all of which I put on, and then I put my runner uniform inside my pack.
Casually, I locked the door to the storeroom behind me and reset the ward. My facial features now matched looking like vaguely someone from the Larkin region of the Empire but as nondescript and unmemorable as I could manage.
Before I got to the trenches I hid my runner uniform in a hole I dug in the mountainside. My minor earth affinity was extremely useful. Then I made my way to the trenches, saluting and acting like a regular private. In the trenches, I made my way forward. First from the fourth trench, to the third trench, to the second trench and finally to the first trench.
There had been barely any troops in the third trench, but they more than made up for it in the first. The lines were filled with people ready for anything. And there was a large mass of men with shovels digging out the part of the line that had been submerged by the flooding water. Terrald would be missed. Another group was crawling out onto the battlefield trying to lay new barbed wire. The old cable having been crushed and flattened under the force shield as the enemy had moved forward just days ago. There were rats everywhere, and they were huge. They had feasted on the dead, and our soldiers were spending more time shooting arrows at them than they were at shooting arrows distant enemy soldiers.
Overhead the fireballs flew through the skies. Not ceaselessly as they had before, but at spaced out intervals. I grabbed a shovel and headed out to a place deep inside the mudflow and began to dig trench until I was covered in mud and fleas.
When I got to a place where I was as alone as I could be, in a spot where the barbed wire was no more, I began to crawl forward. Keeping low. There was a crater up ahead where a fireball had burst onto the ground and turned the mud into pumice. That was my destination. More importantly, I was looking for the corpse of a dead enemy soldier.
About ten yards away from the hole I was aiming for I found what I was looking for. He had been young when he died. Seventeen or Eighteen. I didn¡¯t care, I grabbed hold of him and dragged him behind me as I crawled through the mud to the crater.
Down in the crater, I stripped the soldier of his uniform. He smelt like death. His clothing smelt like death. I cast healing spells on the outfit and all the antibacterial and antivirus runes that I had managed to pick up, but it still stunk. I cleaned used my meager water affinity to clean the shit and piss out of the trousers where he¡¯d defecated when he¡¯d died. Even then it still stunk. It didn¡¯t matter. I could get another uniform.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Then I put the dead enemy soldier¡¯s uniform on and tried to copy his facial features as best I could. Rigor mortis had come and gone, and he was bloated and had begun to decompose, so my copies were just estimates. I knew the basics of skin color, hair color and general facial features of the men and women we were fighting so mostly made a rough stereotyped guess and went with that.
Then I scanned crawled to the lip of the crater and scanned the battlefield. It was a hundred and twenty yards to the enemy¡¯s lines. Too far to shadow walk. There was another crater up ahead about 30 yards away. I began to crawl. And crawl.
The empire had not stopped lobbing artillery either. Ballista bolts with Samdi¡¯s exploding heads fell from the sky. Though fortunately none near me. For a second I had a horrible paranoid thought of someone up in a ballista nest with a telescope or with some sort of body augmentation centered on the eyes scanning the battlefield for people crawling through the mud to target.
Either I was so caked in filth that nobody could see me or nobody cared, my forward progress, however, through the no man¡¯s land was unimpeded.
Safely in the next crater, I crawled to the opposing lip and surveyed the field for my next stop. The ground ahead of me was covered in barbed wire. I looked at it with my mage sight and saw that there were weak wards embedded every ten yards or so into the cable. Over the years I¡¯d grown used to the omnipresent aura of death magic everywhere.
Just past two lines of wire, I saw another deep crater where I could hide, and maybe twenty yards beyond that was an open section in the barbed wire fence and the first layer of enemy trench. I began moving forward, trying to remember that to act the part. I was playing a soldier who had been knocked unconscious and severely wounded during the recent battle and was only now hopefully returning to welcoming friends.
If my luck held nobody would see me, but if they did, I had to play a part. I even went so far to use my life affinity to cause ugly but superficial wounds that looked like they were headed towards gangrene to appear all over my body. That and a nasty head wound will help my story if I need to act confused or forgetful. My goal was to be in and out quickly though, so hopefully, these precautions would be unnecessary.
For the final dash, I waited until it was dark night started to fall.
It was a cloudless sky, and the stars peered down on Devotion Valley with fresh vanity at the new obsidian mirrored cliffs. Someday someone would walk along those freshly hewn lava burnt cliffs, along with their mirror clean finish, and find themselves looking up to at the stars up above, only to look down and see those same stars below and at that moment find themselves lost in infinity.
When the dark had enveloped the twilight, I began my new crawl to the barbed wire. While I didn¡¯t have any wire cutters, I didn¡¯t need them. Metal was a kind of earth; barbed wire snapped readily to an application of some basic earth runes that I had learned from Terrald.
I made it to the next crater. I could see the trench twenty yards away. It was hard to see in the dark, so I began looking with my mage sight. Life, presumably rats, and soldiers were visible. I needed to locate a spot in the trench with the amount of least life. Another thing that helped me was that I had been studying detect life spells for the last little while. When used correctly I could use it sort of like a radar sending out pings of life mana and waiting for it to reflect back, while filtering out for humans.
It took me about two hours, but I finally found a pattern to the patrols and space where the number of soldiers was thinned out.
As I was studying the enemy line, one thing really surprised me. There was a fraction of the number of soldiers along the line in the trenches here than there were on our side. Maybe one-tenth as many troops as I was used to moving around when I navigated through the Empire¡¯s fortifications.
Moving into position, as soon as the patrol was passed, I reached out with my Witches knack and slammed a tendril of power into the soldier who was most exposed and solitary.
There was a bit of resistance, but nothing I hadn¡¯t gotten used to overpowering. But I hadn¡¯t spent the last couple years spending some of my spare time cast lines of witch power out like fishing line trying to drain a soldier hundreds of yards away for nothing.
Drinking deeply from that soldier¡¯s life, I was surprised at how quickly that person, whoever they were, was drained. Then using my new abundance of mana I shifted into that strange shadow world and dashed from where I was to the enemy soldier I¡¯d singled out and killed from afar.
Like always the shadow world was a world of mists and shades of grays. The longer I stayed in it, the more I filled with mana. However this time something was different. Looking around, and then finally up, looming over the battlefield was a massive something that floated in the sky.
Whatever it was was not defined by color but rather by and anti-color. It floated in the air resembling a half-a-mile long Portuguese Man-O-War sucking the visible spectrum into it. Tendrils of anti-light ¡ª like each more like looking into the event horizon of a black hole ¡ª mindlessly stuck the ground. Searching out new refractions in the photons of light.
Something primal inside of me needed to get out of these shadows before one those tendrils found me. And as I ran whips of grey-black, white light like the wake of something traveling through the water rippled out from, and the nearest tendril began to twitch and shot towards me.
I shifted out of the shadow just as the nearest tendril neared 50 yards from me. Even with that nearness of proximity I felt mana and life leaving my body, and left the shadow realm drained. Laying up against the barrier to the trench next to the dead soldier, I breathed deeply. In. Out. In. Out. My heart pounding, locked in the flight part of some residual animal fight or flight instinct.
I don¡¯t know how long I sat there. It could have been a minute. It could have been ten. The only thing that got me going again was a rational part of my brain that kept telling me that the patrol would be along soon and that I needed to start moving again.
Standing up I looked at the solider I had targeted. The woman I had killed must have been 60 years old. Her uniform was worn and frayed, her sword was rusty, and she had been holding a bow, but I could see cataracts in her eyes.
Quickly I stripped her down to her undergarments and put on her uniform. Then using my minor earth affinity, I dug this poor woman who should have been off somewhere being a grandmother rather than being a front line soldier an unmarked grave and quickly covered it over with mud. I also buried the woman with the uniform I had stolen from the decomposing soldier I¡¯d found in the no man¡¯s land I¡¯d just crossed. Some of the smell had rubbed off on my skin, but there was nothing I could do about that.
Aging my face through my shape changing knack to make myself look older, I turned and looked out at the field, bow at the ready.
About 10 minutes later a patrol of three men and two women passed by. Four of the people in the patrol must have been in their fifties and sixties while the fifth person couldn¡¯t have been older than eleven. The state of their gear and uniforms was dismal. Broken, worn down, ripped, patched, beyond dirty. The war was not going well on this side of the battlefield.
When they passed, I moved in the opposite direction, headed further into the center of the mass of combatants. As I walked, I adjusted my the appearance of my age upwards. Soon my grey hair was mostly gone, my skin wrinkled like a prune, and I walked hunched over using my bow as a cane. Typically I would have thought I¡¯d have gone too far with artistic license, but the more troops I passed by, the more I realized I fit in.
There were only three lines of trenches, and nobody questioned me. I did stop and warm myself at some of the fires. I would have stood out if I hadn¡¯t. And I had to drastically cut my walking speed down. Furthermore, the language was not the Magrith of the Empire but something that was very close to the Cretan that I had learned from Wilmette and continued to practice over the years. I was actually fluent enough that I could get by with an accent¡. Or I could revert to Wilmette style hill folk and serenade everyone with his particular brand of lyricism.
I followed casually behind the patrol for a while. At a couple of points, they asked a soldier what the color of the day was, but the process of asking was lackadaisical and sloppy. They didn¡¯t even seem to notice me trailing them. The patrol questioned maybe three soldiers out of maybe 200 soldiers that they passed. Two of them answered that the color of the day was orange after some thought, the third needed some prompting and three tries before he got to orange.
Like the patrol, the general state of the soldiers that were propped up in the trenches was wretched. Malnourished, ill-equipped, most of them had open festering sores and were either extremely old or extremely young. Rats, lice, fleas, and cockroaches were everywhere.
The area behind the trenches was a lot less built up than the Empire¡¯s side. There was a makeshift hospital. There was also a massive furnace next to the hospital, and every once in a while as I watched someone would either drag a body on a stretcher from the battlefield or from the hospital and throw it into the furnace. Smoke billowed out of the chimney, and maybe through some sort of luck or runic air magic, wafted into the sky rather than descending and settling like a fog over the Devotion Valley.
While there was a keep that guarded the pass, that looked ¡ª at least from down below ¡ª like it had been built by the same people who had created the keep I had been staying in for the last few years, one significant difference was that there were a series of towers that looked like they had been built rather hastily standing over the field of battle. From atop one of those towers the fireballs flew.
While the pyromancer had been my target all along, I wanted to be cautious. Instead of heading straight towards him I moved into the tower closest to me. Twenty-three towers made a rough line across the plateau. The one I chose to investigate was seven away from where the Pyromancer was currently ejaculating into the sky with flame.
A closer look at the tower and I saw that the surface was pitted and burnt from old weapons fire. I assumed that the Empire had tried various means of long-distance assassination directed at the son of a bitch. I would have to believe that they probably had sent in infiltrators and spies as well. I would have to be careful.
There was a ward on the tower door that was one of the most complicated I had ever come across. The ward connected to a golden sun motif that was probably some sort of lock. It took me a full ten minutes to puzzle out and deactivate, and I wasn¡¯t sure that someone with less than my stellar affinity with the pure arcane magic could have managed it at all. Realizing something, I took a closer look and saw that the entire tower was interlaced with arcane magic and wards. An earth mage would not be able to dig or tunnel through those walls. A fire mage wouldn¡¯t be able to burn through them. Some seriously powerful magic had gone into the creation of these edifices.
The tower was also wrapped in a sheath of force magic, and when I looked closer at the ward, I noticed something I¡¯d missed on my initial deactivation; life detection magic was built into the very fabric of the tower. Fortunately whoever had designed the life magic made it extremely easy to circumvent. It was keyed to a specific signal, probably to make it easy to embed in an amulet or signet ring.
Inside the tower, I walked up the stairs. The second floor was only a room filled with all sorts of trophies and banners.
The stairs continued upward they wound around and around the circumference of the tower until it opened into a building that was pushed up against the rear battlement of the tower. It was a strange tower in that it was not designed for the kind of defense I expected in any kind of warfare. While there was a battlement that ran around the edge of the floor, there were no merlons, murder holes, or the like. Instead, there were a few comfortable chairs, a brass telescope mounted on a tripod, a retractable fabric roof to keep out the elements, and a furnace for warmth.
I could, however, see, a near perfect view of the entire battlefield, and when I looked through the telescope, I could see so clearly that I actually spent a good minute watching a woman in the uniform of the Empire located in the fourth trench pick her nose and eat her snot.
Seven towers away, the pyromancer stopped littering the sky with his magic. Swinging the telescope in his direction I watched a figure go into his tower, and a short time later emerge from the door at the base of the tower. Six guards were waiting for him down below. The guards were among the fittest people and well equipped I had seen so far in this force, and the youngest of them couldn¡¯t have been younger than 40.
The guards walked with the pyromancer past the tower next to the one he had been in, past twelve more towers, including luckily the one I was in, before entering one 8 down from where I was.
Deciding I needed to explore some more, I moved back down the stairs and left the tower I was in. Moving to on to the next tower I cautiously made my way through the wards and opened the door. The base of the tower and the roof had the same layout. On the second floor was a large bedroom that had something that looked almost massive and extremely luxurious bed except that on all four sides around the mattresses were short wooden railings and bars. There was also a gigantic fireplace made from what looked like green marble and white marble with cherubs carved in bas-relief and gilded with gold and platinum. The thickly-luscious black fur of some exotic monster lay like a carpet on the floor. And two luxurious plush chairs were positioned by the fireplace.
The third tower I visited was precisely like the other two towers except that there was a sitting room on the second floor with some couches and some decorative plants. The fourth was a meeting room with a table and ample seating as well as a detailed diagram of the battlefield on one of the walls, and what looked like plans for the breach in the empire¡¯s trenches, the flanking maneuver and faux illusions troops that Terrald had spoken about.
No mention on any of the documents on the wall or on the table that I could see was made of the actual illusion that had been used to defend the headquarters, or that one of the Emperor¡¯s own vampires would take part in the battle, or even that the flanking moves that Terrald had mentioned were themselves only feints.
The fifth tower I explored held dried up corpses.
After that, I decided that my best plan would be to head back to the room with the bed. The pyromancer did stop periodically, and everyone assumed that he slept. This sleep was irregular and infrequent enough that no real plans of attack could be prepared to coincide with it, but it did happen.
Reentering the tower with the sleeping chambers, I climbed the steps and looked around the room for a place to hide. The room was sparse, but the walls of the tower were thick. The wards and magic that defended the edifice were on the outermost surface, still I found a part of the room that was furthest from the bed and hidden in the most shadows, and using my limited earth magic skill slowly and carefully cut out a six foot by 3 foot by one inch section of the wall which I reinforced to keep stable with all the arcane magic and earth magic at my disposal.
I lowered this section to the floor. It was heavy as fuck, but I didn¡¯t care. On the side that faced inward, I attached two hand hold grips. I also drilled a small peephole in the surface. Then I began to hollow out a section of the wall of the tower. The wall, if my sense of depth was correct, was 32 inches thick. One inch of that was my door. Two inches on the outside was the exterior wall and the protective runes. That gave me 29 inches to hide in. This would not be a pleasant stay.
It took me nearly three hours to dig an 8.5 foot by 5 foot by 29 inches slightly curving with the circumference of the tower space had been carved into the wall with an opening, carefully dragged the residual rock outside and hid it. I made sure to remove everything down even to the finest dust particulate. Then climbing into my hidden chamber (including a hole built into a rock chair that led to the existing privy) using a burst of strength I pulled the rock door up and then using my earth affinity lightly sealed the entrance to the wall with the flimsiest of connections.
Then I waited.
And waited.
Every once in a while I needed to heal my legs of the cramps that threatened to run through them. The first day passed, and I realized I didn¡¯t have any food and the only water I had was the trickle I could conjure. Using life magic, I had to slow down my metabolism or else my body would have started to burn muscle for calories.
The second day was much like the first, except that I considered making a raid on the local soldiers¡¯ mess. I took several short, fitful sleeps, but I needed to stay on guard just in case my prey showed up. I was hungry. I was tired, but I stayed focused.
The third day was precisely the same. I wondered if I was wasting my time. There were twenty-three towers, and he seemed to move at random between them. Like he had other bedrooms. People would notice that I was missing back at the empire stretch. If anybody asked I would tell them I was on a secret mission for Samdi, I was on leave and few enough people spoke with him to question that. Hunger gnawed at my stomach.
On the fourth day, I was almost on the verge of going out and finding some food. Water could sustain me, but my strength might be compromised. The only thing that kept me at peak shape was that I had managed to figure out a way convert life mana and healing into muscles and raw nutrition, but that didn¡¯t help the emptiness and the rumbling in my gut.
Just as I was bitching to myself, I heard a noise from down below. Like a door being open. Forget ¡°like,¡± a door was being opened.
Looking out through my peephole I saw a woman emerge from the stairs. When she stood on the second floor, she walked over with the kind of nonchalance of someone who doesn¡¯t know they are being watched and sat down in one of the comfortable chairs facing the fireplace. She sat with her hands on her laps and a dull glazed over look on her face.
The other thing that I noticed was that this strange woman had the most massive breasts I have ever seen in either my entire lives. The unfortunate thing must have had them magically enhanced somehow because they defied both gravity and genetics. I wondered how she walked with those things, and I hope whoever had done that to her had reinforced the strength of her spine to compensate.
I also wondered what she was doing here. It was not like I could come out and ask her. I continued to wait. This time even in more silence.
About two hours later I heard the door to the tower open up again. Climbing up the stairs was an incredibly ancient man dressed in rich robes. He seemed so old that even the wrinkles on his wrinkles had lines, but as he moved slowly over to the bed, he made an effortless gesture towards the fireplace and a fire in the hearth suddenly burst alight.
Glancing once at the woman, this ancient, withered husk of a man, stepped over the strange wooden railing of the bed, lay down and then to my utter surprise, placed his thumb inside his mouth, and began to cry.
The woman got up, out of a bag she had brought she pulled out some white linens, and walked over to the bed making cooing noises. She lay some of the linens down on the railings of the bed, with some of the others, she walked over to a tiny alcove where a small bubbling water supply rose and moistened the cloth she carried.
Then the woman walked back over to the bed and slowly began stripping the dread pyromancer naked. When he was completely nude, she started to use the damp cloth to wash his ass and flaccid tiny shriveled pecker. When she was done with her cleaning, she used one of the fresh linens to wrap the mage in a diaper. Then she took a blue ribbon from her bag and tied a majestic bow around the mage¡¯s head. Finally, she opened up the front of her blouse, her breasts fell like tsunamis crashing against the emptiness of the room and coaxed the pyromancer¡¯s mouth to a nipple for a suckle while she a gentle lullaby.
Tender baby, sweet, sweet baby
Sleep baby, sweet.
Mommy will keep away monsters
While you¡¯re fast asleep.
Tender baby, sweet, sweet baby
Sleep baby, sweet.
The night¡¯s full of dreams
So don¡¯t make a peep.
Tender baby, sweet, sweet baby
Sleep baby, sweet.
Think of kittens and puppies
And horsies and sheep.
There was no better time than now.
Moving through the shadow world, through the tiny hole I¡¯d been using to spy through. The familiar shadow world was filled with menace, and I could feel anti-darkness of monstrous presence again, searching for ripples that I made as I traveled through the shadow. Fortunately, this time I had far less distance to travel. But even as I stepped out, I could feel tendrils of some sort of giant eldritch beast searching for me, nearing, nearing, nearing. Entering the room.
In an instant I found myself standing beside the pyromancer¡¯s bed. And the pouring mana into strength, speed, and stamina I stabbed a dagger that I had been holding ¡ª from the moment the woman had walked into the room ¡ª into the Pyromancer¡¯s chest and into his heart.
Except my stab didn¡¯t kill him. With the dagger still in his chest, he sat up. He looked at me. Then he reached down and pulled the blade out. Blood started to pour out of the hole in his heart, but then the wound began to seal itself up.
The pyromancer looked at me. I mean he really looked at me. I could feel him staring inside of me. I knew that I needed to do anything he asked. I felt my life and mana wanting to flow into him.
He said, ¡°Who are you?¡±
I was reluctant. I tried not to speak. I couldn¡¯t talk. I tried to lie. I couldn¡¯t lie. I tried again to lie, using every ounce of willpower I could muster and said ¡°Lynx Elm.¡±
¡°Come here Lynx Elm.¡± The pyromancer said, and I began to walk forward. And when I was within reach of his outstretched hand, the pyromancer said, ¡°Lynx Elm you would like to give me all of your life, your skills, your affinities, your knacks wouldn¡¯t you?¡±
I certainly knew that I would love to give him everything that he asked for, but I wasn¡¯t Lynx Elm was I? Or was I Lynx Elm. But he had asked Lynx this question, and I was a Twice-Lived, and I was something more than just the life I was living right now.
And in that moment, in the moment when he reached out to touch me, to draw the life and skill and being from me, a different part of me, one separate from Lynx Elm; the part of me that came from that part of my life that I had lived and loved and learned before and had never forgotten, reached out and grabbed the pyromancer and together we fell into the world of shadow.
I fought with the pyromancer, and he struggled with me in this space. I could tell that he had never been here and he couldn¡¯t figure a way out. I had pulled him to me to get him into this space, now I was pushing against him to get him to let go so I could leave it.
All around us, tendrils were probing for refractions in the grey light, and our entrance was a splash that changed the greyness all around us. Tentacles latched onto us trying to suck the life out of us. Frequently just being in this space I would fill myself with mana, but as the beast found us, it began feeding off of us with tendrils of blackness that latched like leaches across our skin drawing life from our bodies.
It came down to mana reserves. I had been conserving mine, while the pyromancer had been throwing fireballs at the Empire¡¯s troops. He let go, and as soon as his hands were off mine, I stepped out of the world of shadows and back into the room. A few seconds later a dried up and drained husk, more mummy than man came into existence beside me.
The woman who had been in shock until now began to scream. I had barely any mana left, so I shot tendril of power from my Witches'' knack into her and drained all the life from her. I felt terrible doing it. She was only an innocent bystander, but it couldn¡¯t be helped.
Looking over the mage, I found a small pouch attached to his belt. When I opened it, I discovered that the interior was far more substantial than the exterior. Tucked inside were three large dungeon cores, a pouch of dungeon core dust, about 20 dungeon core fragments, a dozen books written in Cretan, a stack of letters, a money pouch, a signet ring, and a relay just like the one Lord Samdi had used to alter the Twice-Lived. That relay was the real surprise. According to him, those were the most classified secret in the Empire.
I pocketed the pouch, making sure that it was somewhere where it wouldn¡¯t get lost on my incredibly hazardous journey back across the no man¡¯s land. Besides the amulet around the necks of both the woman and the pyromancer which allowed entry to the tower, there was nothing else of interest on either of them.
Then I stuffed the pair in the hole that I had been hiding in and made sure that the seal around the edge was far more secure.
I climbed up to the roof of the tower. Outside it was night again. The sky was overcast. I tried to imagine a giant floating jellyfish above my head, and it was far too easy to picture it there. The pyromancer¡¯s honor guard waited for him at the door to the tower. Some of them sat playing dice in the dust, two of them stood at attention next to the door.
I walked to the other side of the tower, opposite to where the guards were located. Looking around there was nobody there. Just in case I cast my ¡°don¡¯t look here¡± runes without using the knack I had for moving into the world of darkness. I would have to learn far more about that world, this trip had taught me just how dangerous it could be.
Then as the natural dark and shadows of this world and not some parallel other surrounded me, I used a knack to give myself strength and fortitude and then stepped up onto the battlements of the tower and jumped off the edge.
The journey back to friendlier lines would belong. It wasn¡¯t home, but I was tired and hungry, and I kind of missed the people there.
Chapter 36 - Onwards
Infiltrating the Empire side again was significantly easier. The soldiers had made massive strides in digging the trench that had been filled in and backing it up with sandbags; the simple fact was that it still wasn¡¯t complete. After retrieving the uniform and backpack and putting them back on, it was only a matter of risking the tentacle monster that was still floating above the battlefield then dashing through a gap in the barbed wire and rejoining the soldiers.
I even grabbed a shovel and dug for a little while to solidify the normalcy of my presence. It helped that I knew all the protocols and general movement of the troops from having run around these trenches for the last few years.
On my way back I had stolen some rations from the enemy soldiers, but while this food filled my stomach, I had to use an incredible amount of healing merely to get them down ¡ª the bare minimum of flour mixed with sawdust, ground insect, and some sort of mystery lard. I felt it better not to ask what the source of the rendered fat; rat and a human corpse being the most readily available.
I found my way to my office and slept for I don¡¯t know how long ¡ª hours, days, who knows. It was dark when I slept and bright when I woke up. Afterward, I cleaned up and went to the mess for some food decent food then stumbled up to the keep to see what I had missed over the last few days.
Lieutenant Cham said, ¡°Lynx, where have you been? Red Panda has been frantic. You weren¡¯t supposed to leave the keep.¡±
¡°I needed some time alone.¡± I said, ¡°Then I had some duties to run for Samdi. Did I miss anything important?¡±
¡°Haven¡¯t you heard. The Pyromancer hasn¡¯t shot a fireball in Three days. Command is trying to figure out why. They are sending you children scurrying around like hill of ants someone¡¯s dropped a burning ember into. I haven¡¯t had a wink of sleep over the last three days. And most of your fellow runners are the same ¡ª too much work. So don¡¯t just stand there. I have messages to send. I don¡¯t know where you¡¯ve been, but you managed to choose the worst possible time to disappear. If I hadn¡¯t seen you by the end of the day, I would have reported you as AWOL. Technically you were on leave, but things have been in a tizzy here.¡±
¡°What can I do?¡± I said.
¡°Just go see Lord General Aram and see if she needs you. I¡¯m sure she has a package for you to carry.¡±
I headed up to the Lord General¡¯s office and was told to wait in the reception area until they needed me for something. After about 10 minutes an aide to the General came out and sent with a sealed package and said, ¡°I¡¯ve messaged ahead, and they are expecting you in the lower headquarters.¡±
I set off at a run, and about ten minutes later I was handing off a message and waited to carry another. This time command had me move six packages out to the second line of trenches. In the first bunker, I handed off a package to tired looking captain, two lieutenants and six angry looking sergeants who stood around a makeshift map of the entire valley. Then I was off to deliver the next package, then the next, until all six were delivered to variations on of the same group in different bunkers up and down the line.
I did pass two different runners, as I was making my way back to the headquarters. I waved, they waved back, but nobody had any time to stop and gossip.
Then I was up delivering another set of sealed packages to the furthest ballista turret down the line. Then I had to pick up a colonel¡¯s laundry and give it to him in his office. Then I dashed off to Samdi¡¯s office to see how he was doing with the increase in munitions production he was supposed to have been working on.
¡°Fine, fine, fine, my beautiful boy. Just remember you owe me a favor. I would like to make use of that lovely healing talent you have for a pet project that I have wanted to work on for years.¡±
I grimaced and carried the message back to command that according to Samdi, the increase munition production was on schedule.
By that time I had been running for about nine hours straight, so I drifted into the mess for a meal and a break. Getting some food, I spotted Red Panda sitting at a table by herself eating slowly.
¡°Hey,¡± I said.
She looked up at me, and then looked back down at her food, saying nothing.
¡°Sorry I haven¡¯t been around,¡± I said.
Still, Red Panda said nothing. So I sat down at the table across from her and began to eat. She looked up at me, then picked up her plate and walked away, throwing out what she hadn¡¯t eaten and leaving the tray on the dish cart. I finished my meal in silence, and nobody else came to join me.
The next day was more of the same. I got up early, ran errands, spoke to a few of the other runners. Red Panda had been withdrawn all week and hadn¡¯t really talked with anybody except to do her job, and even then the other runners were covering for her a lot.
Sometimes one of the other would find her just standing somewhere staring off at the enemy lines with a package that needed to be delivered immediately. The other runner would pry the package out of her hands and deliver it for her along with anything they were carrying.
This wasn¡¯t working too well. I saw Tiger Willow coming down the ramp from the keep. He had an angry look on his face. I waved, and we both slowed down as we met coming and going.
¡°Yo,¡± I said
¡°Red Panda had better get her act together. I¡¯m sick and tired of covering her ass,¡± Tiger Willow said.
¡°Leave her be, she¡¯s having a tough time,¡± I said.
¡°Easy for you to say. Some of us didn¡¯t run off who knows where when she needed them.¡±
I had nothing to say to that and continued up the hill to drop off a package at the Lord General¡¯s office. From the smell of it, I think I was carrying someone¡¯s dinner.
Troops began to gather in the forward most trench. Typically there was a four days on three days off rotation, but that ended suddenly. Or not so suddenly depending on how involved you were in the command structure. On everybody¡¯s lips were the words, ¡°The Pyromancer has been silent for five days. Was he gone? Was something happening over there? Were they planning an attack? Were we planning an attack?¡±
Then the shelling started on our side. Somehow they had managed to triple the number of ballistas hidden in the mountains and spears with exploding heads rocketed over the battlefield in waves. All day and all night never letting up. On a run carrying a package up into the mountain tunnels to different emplacements, I found teams of wind mages, controlling the currents to increase the range of airborne ballista spears.
I overheard one mage say ¡°I¡¯ll be glad when this is all over, and I can get back to the university. I had to leave my daughter with her nanny three days ago. I miss her already.¡±
The shelling continued through the day and all night. Instead of the staccato drumming it had once been, the sound was a constant wave of explosions that tore up the no man¡¯s land.
¡°Still no sign of the pyromancer fucker.¡± I overheard a colonel say. ¡°Don¡¯t let those motherless sons of bitches sleep; I want to tear up their lines. ¡°
Lieutenant Cham sent word that I was temporarily transferred to the hospital for the next few days, and I when I went to visit Colonel Tilde Jackalope Trente I found him organizing supplies and equipment.
¡°Ah, Lynx Elm good to see you. We are deploying a satellite triage at the just behind the fourth trench, and we are looking for some of our more adventurous healers to staff it. I would like you to be one of those healers. Like usual, all I want you to do is sort through the wounded, keep alive the ones you can keep alive, leave the less wounded for later if someone is beyond hope move on. No heroics and conserve your mana.¡±
¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± I asked, already knowing the answer but playing my part.
¡°Command thinks the Pyromancer has gone on the run to a safer hidey-hole. He has shown powerful space magic capabilities. After questioning prisoners, we think that they¡¯ve only got the old, the infirm, and the young propping up their numbers. It is disappointing that it has to come to this, but at least this pointless war is almost over.¡±
I traveled with a bunch of medics and soldiers carrying supplies out to a hollow that had been dug out just behind the forward most trench. The field hospital was covered with a hastily erected camouflage tarp over a fortified steel beam structure. I was even surprised when I saw a lieutenant with the ochre stripe of a force mage looking bored and sitting on a crate of compression bandages.
I walked over to the force mage and said ¡°Hello.¡±
The force mage was in his early twenties, and he rolled his eyes somewhat when I introduced myself, but he said ¡°hello.¡±
¡°Looks like we¡¯ll be working together. Maybe? Or are you just here visiting?¡± I said.
¡°You running errands for the healers?¡± The force-affinity mage said.
¡°Naw, for the next few days I¡¯m one of the healers. High Life magic affinity, plus a good amount of practice over the last few years with the wounded. Lynx Elm by the way.¡± I said holding out my hand.
The force mage took my hand and shook it, ¡°Hener Deer Kudzu,¡± He said, ¡°What¡¯s it like out here? They gated me in from Visseff two days ago. Nobody gave me the tour, they just handed me a backpack full of supplies and led me out here.¡±
¡°Mostly it is mud,¡± I said over the sound of our sides continuous bombardment of the enemy lines. ¡°It was a lot more interesting a few days ago when the pyromancer was going crazy spraying the whole valley with fireballs every few seconds. Normally I would say, stay away from being this far forward, but he¡¯s been quiet for the last few days. Command thinks he¡¯s run away. He has access to some heavy duty space affinity magic.¡±
¡°I guess that¡¯s why they wanted me here. They didn¡¯t tell me much, just to keep the hospital defended if necessary. A pyromancer no shit.¡±
¡°Supposedly he was using a 9000-year-old fire core.¡±
¡°Fuck! I don¡¯t know how long I can hold out against something like that. Maybe one fireball, depending on how hot it is.¡±
¡°Pretty sure the fucker is gone. So what were you doing in Visseff?¡±
¡°Studying in the College there. After I got my status, I didn¡¯t want to go back to the farm right away, so I joined the Army. Figured I would see the world for a couple of years, and come back and buy a new farm instead of working on my parent''s farm with my brother and sisters. The army tested my affinities and found a medium-high force affinity and a minor ritual affinity, so they made me an officer and shipped me off to school. Ever since then I have been memorizing runes. What about you? Kind of surprised that they let someone your age out here as a healer,¡± Hener said.
¡°Noble family. I started seeing mana when I was young, so my family forced me to study runes for nearly as long as I can remember.¡± I said.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
¡°Hard work. Sometimes I¡¯m envious of the people with only a minor affinity. The army just gives them a skill gem, and an hour later they can function as a serviceable mage.¡± Hener said.
¡°Yeah, but with no versatility, no ability to learn new skills in that area and a complete inability ever to improve. Runes are a pain in the ass, but once you figure out enough of them, you learn patterns you can use towards figuring out the rest on the fly.¡± I said in disagreement.
Hener sighed, ¡°I suppose, but I¡¯ve spent five years, and all I know are around 600 of them. And there is so much other stuff they teach us: numbers, reading, and writing, self-defense, the history of the empire. It¡¯s all useful I guess, but I don¡¯t know how I¡¯ll ever use if I go home. I don¡¯t want people to think I¡¯m some sort of elitist snob.¡±
¡°So tell me about force magic,¡± I said.
We spent the next couple hours while nothing happened to discuss the various runes that he used. He could make a shield strong enough to cover the whole hospital and could manipulate objects with his mind. I tried to do what he did but discovered I had no ability with force magic.
But just out of curiosity I used the runes he was using for his shield and substituted runes for life affinity in place of force affinity, and suddenly cast it as a spell. Around us, a translucent shield formed around the hospital that kept, if I could interpret it correctly, kept out all living things. Or it blocked life magic. Or maybe both. Or neither. I would have to experiment a bit more.
I wasn¡¯t surprised that I had read nothing about this kind of life shield. So much of the empire¡¯s commerce and status was based on blood magic, that something that could potentially block it ¡ª even for just a short time ¡ª would be probably kept hushed up.
¡°Fuck no, I don¡¯t want to try your ¡®life shield¡¯ out. What if matter can go through and life can¡¯t? What if my body can walk through, but the part of me that is alive stays on the other side of the barrier? I don¡¯t want to walk through your insta-kill shield of doom. You really shouldn¡¯t fuck with that kind of magic. And if you do, try it out on a rat or something first. Not on people. Not on me. If you don¡¯t understand something don¡¯t test it out on yourself. That¡¯s one thing they teach us at Visseff,¡± Hener said.
The same runes that Hener used for telekinesis when I substituted out the force for life seemed to let me cast healing spells at a distance ¡ª awkwardly. It was like a set of invisible hands made out of life magic appeared that I could direct with my eyes and my mind, and then use that as a point to cast extremely mana inefficient life spells through.
¡°With force magic, the instructors say that telekinesis follows an inverse square relationship with distance and mana. I¡¯m not sure what that means, but the further out that I try to move something, the more mana it takes and the weaker I get. I bet you it¡¯s the same with your life mana,¡± Hener said.
The hospital had some cots laid out for us to sleep in while we waited, and as nothing happened in the morning changed to nothing happened in the afternoon, became nothing happened in the evening.
It was hard to sleep with the explosion going off in the distance, especially now that I was so close to the very front lines, and in such an exposed position. The only thing that let me get any sleep was the knowledge that these were our munitions going off.
The next day was pretty much the same. More and more people made their way to the first trench. Now and then I saw teams of people carrying assembled wooden ladders. When I asked a passing group I was told the ladders were for ¡°For scaling walls and trenches.¡±
The explosions kept sounding off in the distance, while I kept sitting in the hospital twiddling my thumbs. Hener was playing dice with a couple of the orderlies. I declined to play, mostly because I wasn¡¯t stupid enough to gamble on dice against a person who was capable of telekinesis.
I was watching a massive explosion off in the distance when out of the corner of my eye, I saw the unmistakable image of Red Panda. I got up and dashed over to her.
¡°Hey, Red Panda! Red Panda! How¡¯ve you been? I haven¡¯t seen you in a while.¡± I yelled.
Red Panda turned towards me, and then I saw that she wasn¡¯t wearing the uniform of a runner anymore but instead the outfit of someone in the regular military.
¡°What¡¯s this,¡± I said, pointing at what she¡¯s was wearing.
¡°Lynx, I quit the runners. I joined the elemental mages. I¡¯m only here for the next couple of days, and then they are sending me to the military college in Visseff until I get my Status magic in a year. Then I can become an officer full time.¡±
I looked at her shocked. ¡°Is that what you want? We used to make fun of the lifers.¡±
¡°Things change, people change,¡± she said, ¡°people grow up. Terrald would have wanted me to follow in his path."
I hugged her. ¡°If that¡¯s what you want. Who knows, maybe we¡¯ll bump into each other some other time.¡±
¡°They wanted me to leave earlier, but I wanted to barbecue some of those fuckers for what they did to Terrald and Fox. How many enemy soldiers does it take to make a bonfire, Lynx?¡± Before I could answer, she said, ¡°I don¡¯t know, but tomorrow I¡¯m going to find out.¡±
¡°So this happens tomorrow,¡± I asked. ¡°Is that official, or just a guess?¡±
¡°Official, but don¡¯t spread it. I overheard Colonel Sanbon talking about it to Chancellor Termass. So what about you? I suppose you are going back to running errands for Samdi and Cham.¡± Red Panda said.
¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about it. I¡¯m tired of it here. Samdi keeps reminding me that I owe him a favor which I don¡¯t want to pay back. I think I may head out in the next few days. Nothing is keeping me here except that my father wants me to be here, and well¡ you know my feelings about him. I think I might visit my brother and sister in our villa in the capital. I don¡¯t know my brother and sister that well, and I¡¯ve never been to the capital. Plus the imperial city might be interesting to visit. It is a long way away by ship, and that will let me do some thinking.¡±
¡°You might want to look into hitching a ride with the military. They¡¯ve been having a team of space mages open gates to bring in exotic mages in from all over the empire for this offensive. They¡¯ll probably want to send them back to where they came from when the battle is over. You might be able to take a shortcut to the capital if you find the right group to mix in with. That¡¯s how I¡¯m supposed to get to Visseff.¡± Red Panda said.
¡°I¡¯ll think about it. Thank you. I wish things could have been different.¡± I said.
¡°Me too. I¡¯ll miss you,¡± said Red Panda.
¡°Goodbye,¡± I said, and Red Panda walked off.
I hadn¡¯t been thinking about leaving and going to the capital. It had just sort of popped out as I was talking, but now that I had spoken about it to Red Panda, I realized that I was tired of this place. Tired of being a runner, tired of Samdi, tired of the dirt and the mud and the trenches.
I didn¡¯t have any other place to go unless I wanted to join the army and follow Red to the academy at Visseff. That might be fun, and as a bonus, it would be a massive ¡®go fuck yourself¡¯ to my father''s plans. But I couldn¡¯t see myself regimented in some hierarchy, and I was sure that my father could pull some strings to have me under his thumb again.
By midnight the number of troops in the forward most trench was overflowing. The scuttlebutt was that there was a similar crowd in the third trench. I sat next to Hener on a box of potions. There was another life mage pacing back and forth, an older man who had never bothered to tell me his name. Plus about twenty stretcher bearers were trying not to act anxious.
From where I was standing I could see the occasional soldier sipping from flasks with mild alcoholic beverages, puffing away at a joint, or smoking a cigarette. But for the most part, they seemed more worried and focused than attempting to mellow out or find bottled bravery.
Then the shelling¡ well¡ explosive ballistaing stopped. From various points along the line, with my mage sight I saw runes shoot into the sky and suddenly the darkness of the night became as bright as daylight as twenty miniature suns now hung in the sky, vibrant with the golden rays of light mana.
Horns began to blow up and down the line, and the men and women in the trenches shouted battle cries and climbed out of the rifts of dirt and sandbags they had been hiding behind and began walking forward falling into well-practiced militarily precise rows. Tower shields in the front row, pikes in the second, pikes in the third, archers in the fourth and low ranked support mages in the rear. Behind that stepped men and women carrying ladders, grappling hooks, stretchers, medical supplies.
As they crossed the no man¡¯s land enemy arrows began to fall among them. But there were enough force affinity mages, or at least mages with some sort of force amulet or device, that the arrows that arced towards empire soldiers hit a clear field of nothing, and then rolled harmlessly backward over the advancing soldier''s heads.
There were even a few things that looked like tanks that advanced without soldiers. Inside these machines were mounted the same Phlogiston guns that had been mounted in the pillboxes where Terrald and Fox Maple had died. The guns spewed fire out at the enemy trench. And even in the distance, I could see bodies writhe in soundless agony were bursts of fireballs from the Tanks and guns struck them.
One of these tanks must have held Red Panda because the fireballs shooting from it was significantly larger and faster. She was doing real damage to the enemy lines and had burnt what looked like a score of enemy soldiers ¡ª the very old, the infirm, the very young. I looked away. It was war, and she had chosen her path.
Every once in a while a stretcher would come to us with a wounded soldier. Mostly they were people who had tripped in the mud or cut themselves on some barbed wire that hadn¡¯t been destroyed by the constant shelling.
By now nobody was surprised that the pyromancer had not shown himself. I wondered aloud with everyone else what had happened to him. Where had he fled too?
Morning came and at a little after 5:00 am word was passed to us that the enemy had unconditionally surrendered.
I stayed in the hospital, a few more stretchers carrying unlucky soldiers, most of whom had done something stupid or had just been plain unlucky were brought to the field hospital. I wasn¡¯t even bothering to conserve mana now. I use spells to heal them up entirely, give them a slip of permission for a couple of days R&R and send them on their way.
Command had set up a temporary headquarters over in the enemy keep. I was told that they had hung about 50 men and women who for one reason or another had deserted our side and joined the enemy force over the last few years. Other than that they command being forgiving to their vanquished enemy.
Someone from the House of Status had set up a temporary facility and was quickly giving the enemy troops status magic. Mostly copper, but even the occasional silver and gold status for high-value prisoners. Blood was also drawn and kept on file from everyone. But that was just how our empire did things.
After three days with almost nothing to do in the field hospital, I eventually got bored of waiting and sent a message with a runner to Tilde to see if I could come back to the main base. He commanded the runner to go back with an okay, and thus my duty was over.
I stumbled back to the barracks and my office and assembled all of the possessions that I had gathered over the last few years into one spot. There were surprisingly few. I put the ones that would seem reasonable and normal for me to have in a fresh pack I got from the quartermaster ¡ª things that would be highly suspicious for me to have. Books on blood magic, tidbits I¡¯d swiped from Samdi¡¯s lab, books I¡¯d stolen from the library, I put in the pouch of holding that I¡¯d taken from the Pyromancer.
Carrying all of this up the hill to the Keep, I went to visit Lieutenant Cham who was in charge of the Runners.
¡°Cham, I¡¯m sorry, but I would like to leave the runners.¡±
¡°Dear dear. That is too bad ¡ª first Fox, then Red Panda, and now you. Well, it makes sense, their country has surrendered. I can¡¯t imagine that many people will be here much longer. It is always a shame to lose one of you. I assume you have cleared this with your family. What will you do next?¡±
¡°I was going to try to head back up through the pass and then ride to the nearest port and take a ship to the capital city. My brother and sister live there. I thought I would visit them.¡± I said.
¡°You are going to Magrithiam city? Every lad should go there once in their life. It is a beautiful, wondrous place with all the latest fashions. I envy you.¡± Cham looked distant for a moment and then said ¡°Stop by Lord General Aram Heron Sequoia in an hour. I have sent her a message letting her know of your plans. She is expecting you.¡±
I put my pack down on my cot in the Runner dorm. Then I went up and said goodbye to some of the cooks that I knew and even to Merf in the library. Then I went up to the Lord General¡¯s office.
Unlike before, I did not have to wait very long in the Lord General¡¯s reception. About ten minutes after I got there, her aide ushered me into the General¡¯s presence.
¡°Cham tells me that you would like to leave. Very well, you don¡¯t have any formal attachment to the military beyond the Runner program. Not only that, despite your status as an Inquisitor you have been beneficial to the well being of the troops. Both Tilde and Colonel Sanbon have sung your praises, and there has been a noticeable drop in losses to Samdi due to your presence.
¡°By way of thanks, I will mention that Chancellor Termass will be Gating to the Capital in two days. I have already passed a message to him, and you may join the group he will be accompanying. It leaves from the bailey precisely at noon, two days from now. If you are late, you will have to take the long route which takes months instead of minutes.
¡°Thank you for your service. You are dismissed.¡±
¡°Thank you, Lord General,¡± I said, and left.
I spent the next day saying goodbye to the Runners and had an excellent fight with Lord Captain Orr in which I almost beat him, though I think he went easy on me.
Two days later, I stood in the keep bailey with my pack, dressed in my Inquisitor uniform, when Chancellor Termass and a group of about forty soldiers came out of the upper more luxurious rooms in the keep. Termass didn¡¯t look that terrifying considering he was a Vampire. Paunchy, middle-aged and balding. He looked more like an accountant than a force of destruction.
The vampire nodded at me, then motioned with his head, to the back of the group. I nodded back, then moved in with the rest of the elite soldiers surrounding him.
A shimmering appeared in the space in front of the vampire, and then the area in front of him folded back like curtains in front of an opaque window. Through the window, I could see a room that was decorated with white walls with minimalist black wood trim. There were windows, that overlooked a massive city, filled the room with natural sunlight.
The vampire stepped through, and then the soldiers followed.
I tapped the man in front of me. ¡°Why is the gate opaque.¡±
¡°Reverse-permeable membrane. It lets large particles through, but not small ones like air and gas. We¡¯re on a mountain; the capital is at sea level. The wind pressure would reap havoc, without the membrane. Remember to breath when you get to the other side.¡±
I was the third from the last to step through the gate. I coughed a bit on the other side, but it wasn¡¯t as bad as I thought it would be. A servant was waiting, and I was led out of the vampire¡¯s house by the front door.
Chapter 37 - A visit to the Library
The room the gate entered into was luxurious enough for its obvious function of being a drop-off point for teleports and gates. The room was substantial without being ostentatious, the only furniture was a couch that was functional despite naturally being luxurious. And besides the several large windows that looked out over the city, some potted plants, there was very little else to see. Two doors led out of the room.
Once the last person was through the gate, I watched as it shimmered and then close behind me. Then Termass turned and left the room. Two servants stepped out of some quiet nook where they had been standing unobserved. One of them spoke ¡°If the master needs to speak with you further, follow me. If you would like to leave, follow my associate.¡±
I followed the second servant who led usout the door the vampire had not departed. We were led into a grand entry chamber, this time filled with marble and gilding and a grand sweeping staircase leading upwards to another floor. Across the way, I could see yet another room that looked like it was meant for guests to relax while they awaited being summoned. A fireplace, some plush chairs, a bar, a bookshelf. Flanking the stairs were hallways leading deeper into the house. Cut crystal lighting, which to my mage sight looked like it had been leaded with core dust, illuminated everything.
I and the majority of other people were led to the front door. Though the door itself was some sort of arcane alloy, the walls of the mansion were a strange kind of ceramic brick that I had never seen before, but each block was magically active somehow. Even the glass on the windows pulsed with a bright haze of magic that would probably have been tangible to someone without magic senses.
I had told people that I would be visiting my brother and sister. I wasn¡¯t entirely sure that I was ready to do that just yet. Now that I was in the capital, I wanted a quiet place to lay low and explore first. I tried to establish a base of operations. Someplace quiet that nobody knew about, where I could retreat to. There were too many unknowns in this city.
The first thing I did was look for a deserted alley to change in. That took a while. Termass¡¯ mansion was in the most expensive part of the city, it was midday, the guards actively patrolled the area, and there weren¡¯t a lot of places that someone could readily lurk.
My Inquisitor uniform stood out, even in such a cosmopolitan city. After searching for nearly a half hour for a place to change into something less conspicuous, I gave the task up as hopeless. Everywhere I walked I drew eyes. Instead, I eventually found a tailor shop specializing in clothing for the extremely wealthy.
There were a man and a woman inside the shop. The man had a feather duster in one hand and was tidying the shelves, while the woman was making some notes in an account book. ¡°What can I do for you, young inquisitor,¡± the woman said.
¡°I¡¯m looking for something to wear. Something that is not a uniform. Something casual that I can wear around the city that does not draw as much attention as this. Maybe several somethings if you have anything in stock.¡± I said.
¡°Young sir, alas most of our clothing is made to order. We simply do not have anything that is simply off the shelf.¡± The woman said.
¡°How quickly could you make something, and if I wanted a rush order, how much would it cost me?¡±
¡°Son, one does not rush fashion. But for seven gold we might be able to have something for you by tomorrow,¡± the woman said.
¡°Hypothetically, what if I wanted something simple, without any embellishments, in a lightweight, flexible fabric, that was dyed black only, and I stressed again, no embellishments? How long would that take me and how much would it cost me?¡±
¡°I would not be able to help you, unfortunately. We are a high-end store and we custom make every piece. Our family has been in business for three hundred years. We cannot just churn things out. I apologize, but you might have better luck in the main city.¡± The woman said.
I sighed and left.
The city of Magrithiam had initially been built on twelve hills that clustered together to overlook a fertile valley. A broad river flowed several miles away from the hill that I was standing on and from my history lessons long ago with the Vulture I knew that that river flowed out into the sea. I imagine that this must have been what Rome and its seven historical hills must have been like when it was at its imperial height. I wondered if long ago, in way before the empire, a different tribe had lived on each hill, fighting, arguing, and then eventually allying against the more significant threats posed by outsiders.
The hill district now was where the wealthiest Magrithiam citizens lived. Termass¡¯ estates had, for example, been on Wracked Hill. These hills were also where the most important palatial structures were located, where the biggest banks had their headquarters, where the main branches of the Imperial Order were centered, where the most elite university was housed, and the best library was built. My family supposedly had a villa on the third hill, called the Chance Hill which had been named after the word ¡®Chantarci¡¯ a long-dead and primitive spirit from early Magrithiam fables.
Working from vague memories of maps I had seen as a child I headed away from the hills and moved to the low lying valley that had once been a swamp, towards the river. It was a long walk. The city spread out for miles in every direction.
I passed by fountains, statues, and monuments. Our empire¡¯s history of battle prowess in marble, jade, and gold leaf. I walked under a dried up aqueduct. Elemental water magic made such things useless, but in the distant past, there had been a need to bring water from far away mountain springs. Here and there I passed grates to sewers, and I wondered just how deep and how dangerous waste and drainage system under the city would be.
Eventually, the more wealthy houses and shops tapered off, and I found myself in a more professional part of town. The stores here still sold quality merchandise, but the silks, gold thread, and magical fabrics made way for simple cotton, linens, and wools. I walked into one that looked prosperous, and a few minutes later and a few dozen silver poorer, I came out dressed in black cotton pants and a black shirt. With three more changes and some fresh, clean undergarments tucked away in the dimension pouch that I now wore inside my pants strapped to my upper leg.
The boots I¡¯d used as a runner were probably okay for getting around the city. They were comfortable. I would need something more elegant if I wanted to join polite society, but that could wait. I inquired at the tailor''s about a good inn, someplace clean and quiet, and was directed to an inn a few miles off called the Pluckered Peacock, where I paid for room and board for two months.
Upstairs in my room and in complete privacy and out of danger for the very first time in more years than I could remember, I opened up the pouch I had taken from the pyromancer and looked carefully at the loot I had acquired. The first thing I pulled out was another pouch that had 198 platinum pieces in it. There was also another pouch with a mixture of other currencies from different countries. There were several thousand coins in various denominations. Gold, silver, copper. A handful of platinum from different kingdoms. Six of what looked like mythril coins.
The things I¡¯d thought were letters were actually notes of deposit with the three largest banks of the Empire for an additional four thousand platinum. I knew enough blood magic to know precisely how worthless these writs were to me. I put them on the desk in front of me. Maybe I could figure out a way to break through the blood magic security. I doubted it. Strong life and blood mages had been trying to break blood magic banknotes for hundreds of years, and as far as I knew, they¡¯d all failed. But might be worth taking a shot trying to crack the security someday if I was bored.
Some personal notes. A few that mentioned people he knew. Some letters begging him to come home for his family and clan¡¯s sake. A page with the words, ¡°The rumors were true. I have found someone with it and taken it, but it doesn¡¯t work on myself. I do not know how she does it. Unless¡ She must have a partner or a slave with it as well, but who does she trust? A secret pact. But who? They all, like me, they want nothing but power and would seize it the moment it came into their hands.¡±
I pushed these coins and blood contracts, notes and letters into a pile on the desk that came with my room.
I left the fire core in the space pouch. I could feel it inside and could see it when I looked inside the bag. The fire core was massive the size of a cantaloupe and it pulsed with power and even though it was dead it still managed to impart a frightening level of malevolence. Who knows what kind of tracking spells were on it, so I kept it in the pouch.
The next two cores were much smaller. Both were a bit smaller than the size of tennis balls. Considering the core that Wilmette had sold back in Larkin had been a little larger than the size of a large marble, and that one had been supposedly 75 years old, these two cores must be hundreds of years old.
I took the first of the tennis ball sized cores out and lifted it to my eye. It was a strange luminescent red color the seemed to shift and move as it sucked in the light. Most cores I had seen before were a mat color but ate the visible spectrum. My senses felt nothing. Even my mana sense could not tell it was magic, which was markedly different than any other core I¡¯d seen, all of which pulsed with magic. Wondering about this strange behavior I lay the core down on the table next to the stack of coins, and then directed a small short pulse of magic into the core to see what would happen.
The red luminescence pulsed out from the table in a small bubble that popped before it grew much bigger than a foot in circumference. There had been a small magic lamp on the table providing light. That light was now out. I tried turning it back on. The light would not go on, so out of curiosity, I examined the lamp. It had been drained of all its magic. The same thing had happened to the banking papers that had, minutes ago, been worth thousands of platinum pieces, but were now just paper and ink. Vellum documents were now completely devoid of magic and value.
I had heard of anti-magic and anti-magic affinities, but I¡¯d never imagined an anti-magic core. I imagined having to retrieve it in hundreds of year old dungeon, facing monsters that wanted to kill you, your party incapable of using spells, knacks, magic items, healing potions¡
Carefully, I put the core back in the pouch. The pyromancer had kept it there. It should be safe as long as I didn¡¯t channel any mana into it.
The last core was far easier to understand. I held it in my hand, and even without channeling any mana into it I felt my sense of length and width and height dissolve around me. I felt the distance between here and there disappear, and I felt the in-between space spaces open up. A powerful space core. No wonder the Pyromancer had been able to break through the Vampire Termass¡¯s teleport block. I put that core back in the pouch.
Next out were the books. There was more than a dozen more that I¡¯d thought initially. The first out was a book about space magic. Then another book on space magic. Followed by four books on fire magic. Followed by a book on life magic that I hadn¡¯t seen before. Then another book on fire magic. Then a tiny book on anti-magic. Most of the books were in the Magrithiam language unlike what I¡¯d initially thought when I¡¯d hurriedly inspected them, the language of this empire, which seemed odd for a foreign mage.
Then I pulled out a book which shocked me. It was written in English: ¡°Basic Objective Empire C¡± Then another book: ¡°Simple Object-Oriented Programming for Mages in Objective Empire C.¡± Then there was: ¡°Simple Core Empire Linux and Relay-Shell Functions.¡± And yet another book was titled: ¡°Chancellor Ranked Executables, Programs, and Scripts and the Though User Interface.¡± And finally, a book called: ¡°How to Program. With Pictures!¡±
All of these books were in written in English.
There were a few other books. There was a small collection of Cretan love poetry. A Cretan /Magrithiam Dictionary. Three books on how to speak the Cretan Language. Yet another book on fire magic. A book on earth magic. A book on force magic. An atlas of the continent containing maps of the various vital cities, and lists of trade goods that were most commonly bought or sold.
There was also a handwritten address book filled with names and addresses and oddly enough a page in the back of the book that looked like a list of passwords. I could tell this was a list of passwords because several of them were listed simply as User Name: Tequital and Password: Password1234 and none of the others were much more complicated.
Lastly, there were six books of Cretan and Magrithiam bedtime stories, a songbook of traditional Cretan lullabies, a book about bed wetting, a guide to better breastfeeding for expecting mothers, and a collection of fairy tales.
The pouch of core dust was just a pouch of core dust. Though valuable and useful for all manner of spell crafting there really was nothing special there. The same went for the bag of core fragments, though I was surprised to see that most of the pieces in the bag weren¡¯t the typical cultivated ones sold in Larkin. They had color and flickered with power under my mage sight. Many of these fragments came from powerful cores, and I wasn¡¯t sure if he had collected them from the dead in the war, or throughout his life.
The signet ring was weighty and made of gold and platinum intertwined. A fragment of an incredibly powerful dungeon core lay in the center carved in the shape of a dragon running across a field of rubies. On the interior of the ring was the word Tequital written in flowing script.
I gathered everything up and put it carefully back into the pouch and then hid the bag on my body again. Then I went downstairs and had a meal in the common area and asked directions to the capital¡¯s famed library. While I now had an enormous amount of books that were begging to be read, the siren call of a place that was considered to be the biggest library in the Empire was hard not to hear.
The structure that housed the library was at the base of Storm Hill. I could see the building long before I reached it. Magic had been used to push the height up past the logical limits of a simple structure with a stone foundation could usually rise. Six floors of black marble, Corinthian style columns along the lower level, while the pediment was carved with pictures of the Emperor defeating the foes of the empire: barbarians, dungeons, monsters, Twice-Lived. The sculptures had been cut out of different varieties of rock to contrast the black marble of the temple, and the Emperor herself was done in white marble and gilded in gold, platinum, mythril, and adamantium. In her hand, her sculpture held what looked like a massive core, that even from a distance I stood, seemed to radiate power.
The closer I got to the library the more I realized that what I thought was a large core being held by the emperor¡¯s sculpture was, in fact, clever use of Mind Magic and runes of awe and majesty. Anybody who looked upon this image of our Emperor could not help but feel overwhelmed by her presence.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The closer I got to the building, the more people that would avoid gazing at the sculpture I noticed. They would go about their lives staring at the ground or with their eyes slightly averted. I couldn¡¯t understand why since I seemed to have no difficulty looking at the statue, but I found out why quickly enough.
A woman was standing about ten feet away. Someone called her name from the library steps. ¡°Esmelda! Esmelda! Over here,¡± a voice called out.
The woman near me, Esmelda, looked up and must have seen the statue, because she then dropped to one knee right in the middle of the road, bowed until her head touched the cobblestones, and then quickly got up and dusted herself off.
¡°Don¡¯t do that to me,¡± Esmelda called out to her friend.
¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m oh so sorry. I was just so excited, I found¡¡± the friend said, as the two of them walked back into the library together. Both now averting their gaze.
Academically I wondered what the range of that thing was. It couldn¡¯t be too far or else it would have a massive effect on the price of real estate in this part of town and would have a drastic impact on the commerce in the parts of the city that were visible to it.
I also wondered why I hadn¡¯t been affected. One of these days I would have to have myself tested for Mind Magic. Typically, for the nobility, magic affinities were calculated when they got their status magic, or by serendipitous awakenings of high affinities like my Life affinity and Red Panda¡¯s Fire Affinity. Commoners only had their affinities tested if they joined the army or if their parents had gold status and were willing to pay a hefty amount of gold for a test that most likely would yield nothing.
Of course, I might not have been affected for other reasons. My bloodline for example. I was part of the clan Naato, and I had learned he was one of the Emperor¡¯s Vampiric Advisors. Maybe that had something to do with it. My mother was also directly related by blood to the Emperor, though one of her lovers. And of course I didn¡¯t have status magic yet, there could be some sort of programmed response that I was missing.
There was a front desk that I needed to pass before I could enter the rest of the library. Two women were sitting at it, so I walked up to them and said, ¡°So how does all of this work.¡± I said, gesturing around myself.
The first woman looked at the second as if to say, ¡°can you believe this idiot.¡±
¡°This is a library. It has books. If you know how to read, you can read them. Do you know how to read?¡± She said to me, speaking slowly like I was a four year old.
I sighed, ¡°excuse my vagueness. What I meant to say is how do I get access to the books. Can anybody just go in? Can I check the books out? When do your doors open in the morning? When do you close at night? Are all the books accessible or do I need any special authority or status for access?¡±
¡°Oh. That¡¯s different. I thought you were asking how a library and books worked. We get weirdo¡¯s in here all the time. We open at eight in the morning and close at ten at night. The first and second floors are open to everyone. You need a silver status to go above the third floor, gold for the fourth floor, and platinum status to go any higher. Books must be kept in the library, they can¡¯t even be taken off the floor where they are located. Does that answer your questions?¡±
¡°I¡¯m 15, I haven¡¯t got my status magic yet. But I am part of a noble house and am a Squire Lieutenant in the Inquisition. If you have blood magic you can look both these things up, are there any exceptions to the only gold above the third-floor thing?¡±
The one woman looked at the other. ¡°It will take a couple of days to do the verification, and you will need to pay for the test as well as the fee to access the library, but it can be done. It is easier if you have your house or order send an official notice.¡±
¡°I¡¯m just enjoying my privacy right now,¡± I said.
The woman shrugged and then said. ¡°I just sent a text to someone in administration. She is bringing a needle and blood sample paper, and she should be down in a couple of minutes.¡±
A few minutes later a heavy set blonde woman with braided pigtails came into the room. She looked more like the stereotype of a Wagnerian Valkyrie than a librarian. I halfway expected her to break out into opera not stick me with a needle and draw my blood. But draw my blood she did, ¡°I should have the results back to you tomorrow,¡± she said.
¡°Do you mind if I look around the first two floors? Before I come back tomorrow?¡± I said.
¡°The entry fee is 15 copper per day for basic access. Plus the three gold for the blood magic test.¡±
I handed over the money. The woman behind the desk who hadn¡¯t spoken yet handed me a lanyard with a badge that said ¡°Temp¡± on it. I put the cord around my neck and moved past the desk.
The first floor of the library didn¡¯t seem to have any books. Instead, it had meeting rooms, an information desk, a small surprisingly lovely restaurant with plenty of places to sit and chat, and a store that sold scribing materials.
The books began on the second floor. As I wandered through the shelves, I noticed that most of the books were introductory texts to runes, mathematics, alchemy, architecture, and hundreds of other different subjects, general histories, agricultural and farming guides, and there was a plentiful supply of books for children and teenagers. I flipped through some of them out of curiosity. A favorite hero was our great Emperor, and a favorite plot device was to have her appear out of nowhere to solve mysteries, punish criminals, feed the hungry, heal the sick, and provide wisdom.
In one extreme case of serendipity when I was flipping through a several-hundred-year-old collection of children¡¯s stories about a team of superheroes who fought evil mages trying to destroy the early empire, I found among the superheroes and the heroic stories, the names Naato, Termass and Tequital.
Eventually, I tired of looking through the second floor. I stopped by the information desk on the way out and inquired about directions to the Mercenary¡¯s guild.
It was getting late, and the sky was getting dark early. There was a chill breeze outside. Devotion Valley had been located in a much more temperate part of the empire than the capital. Here the season was well enough into the fall that the leaves were changing colors to vibrant reds, yellows, and browns. And browned leaves fluttered through the air and gathered in piles along the edges of the road, fallen from trees that lined the center of the boulevard.
The crisp fall winds would eventually turn to the snows of winter. I would have to remember to buy a jacket. Winters in the Magrithiam were not supposed to be horrible, and supposedly there were enough high-affinity water and wind mages in the city to keep the worst of the weather away if the storms got really bad.
The Mercenary Guild was a three-mile walk down the boulevard in a straight line away from the Library. Three miles in a straight line and still not even close to the edge of the city, and the boulevard wasn¡¯t the most prominent street or even the main thoroughfare.
I walked in through the front door. Unlike in Larkin, I wasn¡¯t 12 years old anymore. Nor had I killed any of their members recently. In fact, I probably looked like the kind of person who might be looking to join up after they got their status in a few months. The mood in the room was much more friendly this time when I walked in.
Sitting at the front bar, I ordered a beer. A pretty waitress wearing a yellow shawl with a long braid brown braid and big brown eyes brought me my beer.
¡°I was wondering if someone here could recommend me a sword master I could practice with while I am in the city. I can pay.¡± I said to the girl.
¡°Any of these louts and drunks can swing a sword or a club. And most of them are looking for coppers for drinking money over the winter. Masters they are not, but if all you want is to learn how to do something different than chop wood on your father¡¯s farm, they will do,¡± said the girl.
Laughing, ¡°I have more experience than that. And I have been training with soldiers for as long as I can remember. Surely you can recommend someone who can give advanced instruction?¡±
The girl tugged at her braid and looked at me in exasperations. ¡°My mother does train the nobility sometimes, and also the promising members of the mercenary guild, and if you can afford it she is one of the best blademasters in the city. But she doesn¡¯t suffer fools and will test your skills even if you can pay ¡ª or think you can pay since she charges more than you undoubtedly have to spend ¡ª but it is on your head.¡±
¡°If she is as good as you say she is, she sounds perfect. Can you give me directions.¡±
The girl gave me directions to her mother Allaana Thrush Mandragora, and I paid for my beer, left a generous tip and left.
This walk was much shorter, and eventually, I found a building opening out onto an open practice yard where men, women, and boys were finishing up practicing running laps. I watched from under a wooden overhang while they ran, and eventually, a middle-aged woman came over to me and asked me what I was doing here.
¡°I¡¯m looking for Allaana Thrush Mandragora. I was told that I could get lessons or practice with the sword from her. Her daughter sent me.¡±
¡°I¡¯m Allaana. I will admit I don¡¯t take just any student. I don¡¯t take people who¡¯ve never used a sword. That goes for the nobility and commoners such as I assume you are. If you are going to work with me, you will have to demonstrate some skill. And even if you do pass my entrance exam, unless you can show me you are the absolute best and worth my time, I am not inexpensive. Some small noble houses can¡¯t afford my training.¡±
I smiled. ¡°I¡¯m fine with those qualifications. How do we demonstrate my skills?¡±
Allaana called out ¡°Kylny, come over here, we have a challenger. Martiam, get ready with your healing spells this is going to be fun.¡±
She then turned to me and said, ¡°Come with me, we have a rack of practice swords over here. We don¡¯t use wooden swords like some schools, we use blunted steel and make sure a healer is ready. Martiam is a silver with a minor life-affinity and should be able to keep you alive until we get a proper healer here. We also ask that you pay upfront for the skills of a mage with a high life affinity in healing ¡ª just in case. This money will bereturnedto you, before you leave if you don¡¯t get hurt or if youarn''t accepted.¡±
¡°If you would like to select a sword that feels balanced, you will be fighting Kylny. Beating him won¡¯t guarantee admission, that depends on how you beat him. Not beating Kylny won¡¯t mean you aren¡¯t accepted, he is a tough fighter to beat. What I am interested in seeing is your technique, and fighting spirit, as well as what you¡¯ve learned so far, what you know and how you fight.¡±
I handed the sword master some money, and she pocketed it. ¡°This will be returned to you if you don¡¯t get accepted,¡± she said.
I unstrapped the sword from my waist and laid it on a table near the rack of weapons. Nobody made a move to look at my weapon. I went through each blade, lifting some up and feeling their weight before putting them back down. Some felt better than others, and on some of the better ones, I would do one of the shorter katas that Lord Captain Orr had taught me, to get a feel for the weapon.
None of the swords on the rack really worked for me, but some were better than others. After trying them all out, and finally choosing the best off the rack, I turned and saw a small crowd watching me.
¡°What?¡± I said.
¡°Are you ready?¡± Was all Allaana said?
The clothing I was wearing was loose and supple. Kylny was stripped to the waist, and his 6¡¯7¡± frame bulged with muscles and scars. I watched as he casually tossed a four-foot long sword from one hand to the other, his eyes focused on me and smiling. There was a scar under his left eye that ended under his left ear.
I walked across the practice field to Kylny standing at the edge of a thirty-foot diameter circle that had been painted on the dirt and sand. Looking over at the man I was about to fight I said, ¡°Mongo only pawn in game of life?¡±
Kylny looked at me blankly and then said, ¡°I¡¯m gonna make you hurt so bad you forget about wasting the master¡¯s time.¡±
Allaana walked up. ¡°This is a simple contest. You can start anywhere you want outside the circle, but if you are outside of it longer than two seconds, you lose the round. The fight begins when I blow my whistle, and when a whistle blows you must disengage with your opponent and leave the circle. Usually, a whistle will blow when either Jaamy or I detect a killing blow. Remember all fighting stops when you hear a whistle, and you must leave the circle if you can. If someone is bleeding or hurt too badly to continue, they are automatically disqualified. No stabbing directly into the eyes or groin. Do you understand?¡±
I nodded, and Kylny said, ¡°Yes sir.¡±
¡°Then choose somewhere on the outside of the circle that you would like to start and get ready for my whistle to blow,¡± Allaana said.
I made my way to the edge of the circle and saw that Kylny was standing only six feet away from me just outside of the ring. I moved along the circumference to build a little distance between us, and he simply followed, keeping that same six feet separation. The whistle still hadn¡¯t blown, and I was beginning to realize that this positioning was part of the pre-fight strategy.
Then the whistle blew, I took one step into the circle but somehow Kylny was already inside it moving faster than a person his size should be able to maneuver, with his sword coming at me like a baseball bat aimed at my midsection. The asshat must have a knack. I felt his sword strike me in the abdomen and the blow lifted me off my feet and drove me three feet backward out of the circle. Whistles blew, and I clutched my chest.
Martiam, the healer, came running towards me, but I waved him off, channeling healing runes though myself, I fixed the internal damage that had been done and got to my feet, and walked back to the circle.
¡°Interesting,¡± said Allaana.
This time, I paid more attention to Kylny, and let him take his position a mere six feet away. I assume that he thought he could use the same trick twice. The whistle blew, and this time I used my knack pouring mana and life into my arms, my legs, my speed, my strength, and this time Kylny was the one who was flying backward out of the circle as an uppercut from my sword connected with his stomach launching him back.
A whistle blew. Martiam rushed over to Kylny who still hadn¡¯t gotten up from the ground.
¡°I can stabilize him, but you will need to get a healer,¡± Martiam said, ¡°his insides are messed up.¡±
Allaana looked at me and then said, ¡°Jaamy run and get Physician Tovias. Tell him Kylny needs his help¡¡±
Then I said, ¡°Wait. I¡¯m a high-affinity life mage. I can heal him. If you don¡¯t mind my looking him over.¡±
Allaana simply gestured at Kylny who was still lying on the ground. Blood was flowing out of his nose and the edge of his mouth. I ran to his side and began to cast life-giving healing runes into his body. They took, and I could feel the insides of his body knit back together. My time on the battlefields of Devotion Valley had done wonders for my skills as a healer, and soon I was done.
Martiam looked at me, and then turned to Allaana and said, ¡°He¡¯s better than Tovias.¡±
Kylny pushed himself to a sitting position and looked around. I may have cheated a little and not healed all of the bruises and pain from his injury. Allaana the Blademaster looked at her student and said, ¡°Can you continue?¡±
¡°Yes. I think so.¡±
¡°Then I want you both to agree not to use Knacks. From this time forward, I simply want to evaluate technique and skill. Understood?¡± Allaana looked at Kylny who nodded, then she looked at me, and I nodded. ¡°Good. And thank you for the healing.¡± Kylny nodded at this too.
This time when we walked to the circle, we took positions at opposite sides. When the whistle sounded, we ran at each other. It was soon evident that the massive warrior was a lot stronger and faster than I was. His size clearly gave him a better reach, and he must have had an enormous boost given his status magic.
I, on the other hand, had far more technique and experience. I had been in battle and killed people in one on one combat, while I suspected this boy, though he was only a few years older than me, just knew battle from the practice yard.
It took me a while, and it was hard, but eventually, I managed to trip him up, and then score a cut on his hands and legs as he fell. Whistles blew, and it was two to one for me.
The fourth match went much faster, Kylny was clearly disheartened by his last two losses. I could see the hesitation and second-guess in his eyes, and in the way, he held his sword. And he was right, because I quickly lured him off-guard with an obvious feint, and managed a blow to his head that knocked him out.
Whistles blew again, and I bent down and healed my fallen opponent, even clearing away the bruises and hurt I¡¯d left him as well as some old injuries that were still lingering.
Allaana came over to me. ¡°I¡¯m impressed. I also have to admit that I would like to have that life affinity on hand. Martiam is useful, but his skills can only do so much. Now for some more personal information, I would, of course, need to know your name, and who taught you, and what you expect to get out my school.¡±
I thought for a few moments and then decided to be honest. ¡°My name is Lynx Elm, my father hired many tutors when I was a child, but mostly I was instructed by the captain of his guard Neil Wolf Cattail. When I was a little older than ten, my father sent me off to be mentored by Wilmette Bear Trillium until I was twelve, and then I¡¯ve been stationed as a Runner in Devotion Valley for the last three years and training under Lord Captain Orr Ocelot Fir. What I want from your school is simply to improve my skills and to practice while I am in this city.¡±
Allaana looked at me for a while and then said, ¡°I know Orr. We served together ten years ago. And I¡¯ve heard of Wilmette. But I won¡¯t hold his reputation against you. So you are aristocracy. Not that it matters here. The first time you try to use the privilege of your rank you are out of my school. I would like to welcome to my school. I should tell my daughter Nynaeve Woolhead Hibiscus that she sent a live one over. She can be stubborn as a mule sometimes, but she means well.
Chapter 38 - Meeting the Family
The next morning I woke up early and went to the library. The two women who I had seen the day before were still on duty at the front, and they gave me a lanyard that gave me access up to the platinum level.
One of the biggest reasons I had wanted to come to the capital was to see if there was any way to block blood magic from tracking me down. Up until this moment I had been going where my father dictated, moving under the unstated threat that if he wanted too, he could locate me any time he wanted.
Another concern was that my sixteenth birthday was coming up soon and I was worried about my coming of age ceremony and the day I got my status magic. As far as I could tell that was the day when Twice-Lived were revealed and¡ well¡ as much as possible I didn¡¯t want to be exposed. If I had to root around the Imperial library, or even take some risks and dig into the official Inquisitor Headquarters or official Imperial House of Status Headquarters for some sort of clue to avoid detection, so be it. It was a risk worth taking.
My only regret was that I only had months for my search and not years.
To my surprise, the Imperial Library had an elevator system that I wouldn¡¯t have been surprised to see in a high-end Manhattan office building or ultra-modern condo. Lots of gold leaf and mirrored walls.
A woman was standing in the elevator dressed in an elegant uniform. ¡°What floor would you like to visit today?¡± She said to me when I stepped inside.
¡°I would like to go to the up to the Platinum level where they have books on blood magic and life magic,¡± I said.
¡°Hold out your hand and touch this tablet,¡± the woman held out a tablet and adjusted a switch on it to indicate platinum. When I put my hand on it, it glowed yellow for a second and then both the identification on my lanyard and the tablet she was holding burned green.
¡°Thank you,¡± she said, and then pressed the button for one of the upper tiers.
The elevator rode up, and when it stopped, and the doors shimmered open, I saw a faint shimmering light like a thin shield filling the entrance to the level.
¡°Go on, it¡¯s safe. You have the right status for the floor,¡± the elevator operator said. Seeing no reason not to, I walked through the shimmering light and felt a faint tingling through my body. The ID they had given me at the counter again lit up for a second, but nothing else happened.
The contents of this floor were mostly books about magic grouped by their traditional subjects: mind, body, life, nature, elemental, force, space, light, sound, dark, death, ritual, storage, arcane, and anti. The floor smelled like dust and paper.
If what I was looking for hadn¡¯t been purged from the library, was probably in the life magic section, the arcane magic section, or the mind magic section. There was a real chance that the runes that I was looking for were not here. But this was as good a starting spot as any.
The first place I wanted to start was in the life magic section. I wanted more information on that shield I had come up with when I had been hanging out with Hener the force mage a few days back. The big question was did it keep out life, did it keep out the living, or did it keep out life magic. In each of the three circumstances it would be useful, but right now the most utility would be keeping out life magic, most importantly blood magic.
After about eight hours of searching, I eventually did find a variation on the life shield in the detection portion of the section of books on life magic. Detection magic worked like a radar sending pulses of life magic out to find similar life. It worked on the idea that different types of living things had different kinds of life patterns. Humans were different than birds or plants or antelopes. Powerful life mages with a lot of practice could even tell the difference between humans and elves, or chimpanzee, or goblins. Life drew life, and so when the pulse of life came back, the empty spaces were where the thing you were looking for was hiding.
The shield spell that I found, listed in only one exceptionally poorly written spell book that was 90% filled with absolute gibberish and covered with layers and layers of dust was a spell that used something similar to the force shield runes to disrupt the casters outward appearance of their life patterns.
The spell itself was filled with runic mistakes. Whoever had written this book was either a madman or the book was a copy of something that had been written in the early days of runic magic. It would actually take me a couple of days to rewrite the spells and fix the flaws, but it was doable.
Taking out some stationary and a pen, I spent another hour copying out the critical information about the spell and then putting the book back on the shelf I decided to call it a day.
When I stepped out of the elevator on the first floor and was about to make my way out the door, an elderly man came up to me and said, ¡°Lynx Elm?¡±
They had found me, seeing no reason to deny it, I said ¡°yes?¡±
¡°Your brother and sister would cordially appreciate having your presence over dinner tomorrow at the family manor,¡± the man said. ¡°I am under the impression you have never been to the villa before, would you like us to send you a guide?¡±
¡°That won¡¯t be necessary. Just write down the address, I can probably find it myself. What time would you like me to arrive.¡±
¡°Dinner is just after sunset, though you are welcome to come any time you like. Your brother and sister expressed surprise that you chose not to stay at your home.¡±
¡°Tell them, I apologize. How did you find me by the way.¡±
¡°When the library submitted your blood sample, we were informed. I imagine the inquisition was alerted as well, you might want to check in with them too.¡± The family servant said.
I didn¡¯t say anything about that, but he was probably right. It was too much to expect that my presence would have gone entirely unnoticed. ¡°Is that everything? I will try to visit the family tomorrow. Is anybody else in the city. Mother? Father?¡±
¡°You are related through birth to quite a few branches of the imperial family. Do you want me to list their names and relationships to you? As for your mother and Father. No, as far as I know, your mother is at your family estate in Umberge, and your father is on duty somewhere.¡±
I left the library. Instead of heading back to my apartment I went to the mercenary guild for a beer and to think about my next steps.
When I got there, Nynaeve was behind the bar just like she had been the day before. I sat down on one of the stools and ordered a draft.
¡°Thank you for directing me to your mother¡¯s practice yard. Her method of testing to gain entrance is umm¡ interesting. Does she make everyone go through that, did I irritate her, or did she just kind of sense that I am awesome?¡± I said to Nynaeve.
¡°Most of her clients either come with recommendations from the Guild or are nobles who are recommended by trainers she trusts. You are the very first one, as far as I know, who just walked in off the street. I hear you beat Kylny and are a better Life Mage than even old Tovias. That¡¯s pretty impressive. I always wanted to be a healer, but I don¡¯t have the magic for it.¡±
¡°I¡¯m so sorry. I know what it¡¯s like to just want to live your life the way you want and being unable to because of your family or circumstances,¡± I said. ¡°You know, I just spent a few years helping the physicians out in Devotion Valley, and for the most part, they don¡¯t use a lot of mana. Good old fashioned surgical techniques and potions. There are simply too many soldiers to treat everyone with life mana. Have you ever considered trying either of those routes? You wouldn¡¯t be able to perform the miracles that a life mage would be able to pull off, but life mages aren¡¯t always around when you need a healer. Of course, you would only have to smile, and most people around you would feel better.¡±
Nynaeve groaned and then thought about it for a moment and then said, ¡°Quit it with the cheesy lines. But really, I never thought about it like that. I don¡¯t know, I would have to save up money, and take time off my job here in the Mercenary Guild, and then there is all the trouble of having to get accepted into one of the colleges.¡±
¡°Couldn¡¯t your mother help you? If it is something, you really want to do? She must have contacts and resources. If you want, I can show you some of the basics. I¡¯m completely awesome with alchemy and herbalism, plus I can wrap people up in bandages like the best of them.¡± I said.
She was about to say something when one of the tables full of mercenaries called out for another round of beers. She looked away from me and at the table, and then Nynaeve began to unconsciously tug at her braid, before starting to pour another round of beers.
¡°Think about it,¡± I said. ¡°And if you are interested, why don¡¯t we talk some more over dinner? When do you get off tonight?¡±
As Nynaeve was pouring, she said, ¡°I close so unless you wanted to wait until two in the morning, I probably will not be able to do anything tonight. I have tomorrow night off, and I have next Tuesday off. Do any of those days work for you?¡±
¡°I¡¯m having dinner with my family tomorrow night. Why don¡¯t we agree on dinner next week? Which doesn¡¯t mean that I won¡¯t stop in to say hi, during the week.¡± I smiled at her.
¡°Lynx you know, mercenaries try to pick me up all the time. It never works. What makes you think you have a chance? You are what? Two, three years younger than me?¡±
¡°I¡¯m not a mercenary, and I have all this devilish charm working for me. Plus your mother doesn¡¯t seem to like me and girls dig that in a guy.¡± I said.
¡°I never said Mom doesn¡¯t like you,¡± Nynaeve said.
¡°More the better,¡± I said, ¡°why don¡¯t you take those beers over before the natives become restless. And I will see you later.¡±
Nynaeve tugged her braid a couple of times before lifting up a tray with pint glasses of beer and brought it over to the table of mercenaries. I took my beer, moved over to a table and pulled out the runic diagrams for the life shield that I had copied in the library.
Not really paying much attention to the ebb and flow of the conversations and sporadic bar fights that were happening around me, I began to diagram out the spell that I had found earlier that day. Slowly I redrew the runes using more modern ideas and techniques. I made a couple of mistakes and had to redraw the diagrams from the beginning, but I was getting a good feel for the method.
The spell as it resulted was impressive, and frankly it fit really well but was different from what I had figured out with Henner back in Devotion Valley. Eventually, when I would be finally finished updating and proofreading this drawing, I would need to run some tests and perform some experiments, and my room at the inn would not be a good location for this.
Every once in a while I would look up from my work, and as I nursed my beer, I would lean back in my chair and watch Nynaeve work. Nynaeve had a glorious ass. I had to admit that my male gaze used judiciously and discretely made life so much more exciting. The Mercenaries kept her busy and as it grew later in the evening more and more people came into the guild. At some point, some musicians began to perform.
After a while, I stumbled back to The Pluckered Peacock, the inn that I was staying at, and got to sleep for the night.
The next morning I got up early and stumbled downstairs to the common room for breakfast. Over a plate of eggs, fried tomatoes, and sausages. When the innkeeper brought my meal over I asked him, ¡°I need to get to Chance Hill today, do you happen to know the fastest way to get there?¡±
¡°If you want to walk, you should probably leave now. It will take you all day to get there. The fastest way is by gate. The merchant¡¯s guild set up permanent gates near each of the markets for their members to use. If you aren¡¯t part of the merchant guild, it will cost you a two silver, but you can just walk to the market just down the street and come out at the imperial market, from there it is only a short walk to Chance Hill. It should take you about a half an hour. Less time if you get a rickshaw ride from the imperial section to your destination.¡±
¡°I was also wondering who I could talk to about renting some empty commercial space for a couple of months,¡± I asked.
¡°Did you want to set yourself up as a merchant.¡± The innkeeper asked.
¡°Something like that. I don¡¯t need a storefront, just an open empty space with access to water and lavatory facility. Do you know someone who can help me find such a space,¡± I said.
¡°Revness takes people around to look at spaces, he has an office just a short distance away. I can give you directions if you want.¡±
I finished breakfast and headed out to where the innkeeper indicated Reyness was staying.
¡°I¡¯m looking for a room, with a solid floor, preferably stone, brick, or cement. With access to running water, and waste disposal. Preferably something like a small warehouse that isn¡¯t being used. I only need it for two or three months. It doesn¡¯t need to be on or even near a busy street, but I would prefer if it was an easy walk to the inn that I was staying in.¡± I told Reyness in his office.
¡°I can think of a couple places like that. Let me get the keys.¡±
Reyness caught us a rickshaw driver and give her the address to the first location. The driver ran through the streets, while we saw place after place during the morning. It wasn¡¯t until I saw the third spot that I saw something that fit my needs.
The building that he led me too was in a cul de sac at the end of an alley. While there was garbage piled up in bins against the sides of the stone walls, very little of it was on the ground, and it was apparent that someone was paid to keep the alley tidy periodically. Reyness opened the door, and we stepped into the warehouse. The ceilings were high, held up by three stone pillars in the center of the room, and easily 20 feet off the ground. Windows that faced outward into the alley where small, made out of magically hardened glass and barred from the inside. It was all one room with a concrete floor, and a sink and a toilet and nothing else.
¡°This place is perfect.¡±
¡°The owner is a merchant who brings uses the space seasonally when she is in the city. When she is on the road making trade deals, she lets me rent out the storage space. I should tell you that, I can¡¯t give you this spot for just two months. The minimum rental time is six months, and she charges seven gold coins a month. Plus another three gold overall for general maintenance.¡±
¡°Three gold per month?¡± I said.
¡°No, three gold for the entire six months. That includes the cost of the water and sewage, someone carting the waste away twice a month, and a servant coming and cleaning the exterior of the property once a month. You share the final cost with the rest of the tenants on this street.¡±
I thought it over, and said, ¡°That¡¯s fine. I hope you don¡¯t mind if I pay the whole rent in advance, rather than monthly. Do you mind if we stop off at a bank so that I can get you Imperial script?¡±
¡°That is the safest way for both of us. Better than carrying large sums of money on the streets.¡± Reyness said.
On his way back to his office we stopped off at a bank, and I withdrew forty-five gold in Imperial Script, and then went out to Reyness who was waiting with another rickshaw driver. We made our way to his office, where I put a drop of blood on the script activating it, and Reyness put another drop of his blood on it, sealing the script to himself. Then I filled out the paperwork, and suddenly I had rented a warehouse for six months.
By that point, it was getting late, and I headed off to the market where I had been told I could find a gate to take a shortcut to visit my family.
The main market square was not like many of the side streets. Here four of the main roads that led in an out of the city met, and some of the tallest and wealthiest buildings were located. Where you might find smaller stores, and smaller proprietors on the side streets, the primary merchant squares of the city were where the main merchant hubs were located. Huge buildings, held up by steel and magic, rose up eight or nine stories into the sky, and the square itself was open and free of the regular vending carts and street performers you found elsewhere.
Instead, a majestic bronze fountain with a copper green patina rose up into the sky depicting Lord General Etriam and Chancellor Vergas who had opened the western part of the continent to trade by defeating the barbarians of the foothills some three hundred years ago. Of course the concept ¡°opening the continent to trade¡± really meant conquering and plundering a new frontier. But there was no arguing that over the long term the west had grown prosperous, with its vast temperate farmlands, productive mines, rich forests and deep dark dungeons.
Though I did have to question the artistic sensibilities of the sculptor who¡¯d depicted one of the waterspouts vomiting out of a slain barbarians mouth and wounds, while another spout was from Lord General Etriam¡¯s horse urinating on a barbarian being crushed underfoot, and yet a third of the water spouts came from a gash in a barbarian¡¯s chest as the Chancellor¡¯s sword as was killing him. Frankly, in my opinion, the sculpture just seemed tacky.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
The gatehouse was easy to find. I only had to look for a line of wagons leaving and entering a building. There was a door for pedestrians and that I opened and a bored looking clerk said, ¡°Can I see your Guild membership?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t have a membership, I was told I could pay as I traveled through.¡±
¡°Two silver for one trip. A gold for a month pass. Nine gold for a year pass.¡± The clerk said.
¡°That¡¯s a bit expensive,¡± I said. Still, I handed the clerk a gold and received a red card made of a mysterious coppery alloy etched with runes.
¡°Just show that whenever you come through. You get a discount the next month if you recycle the card,¡± the clerk said as he waved me through the door and into the next room.
The next room was actually a long hallway with a glass divider running down the length of the hall. On one side of the glass divider I the line of merchant carts slowly made their way down a hallway in the same direction I was going. There were four carts in the other part of the hall. Most of these wagons were being led by horses, though I did see a pair of ox driving one cart filled with vegetables. For some reason, I wondered if one of those carts was Cart-San.
At the end of the hall was a gate similar to the one I had walked through to travel from Devotion Valley to Magrithiam City, complete with a similar opaque shimmering wall presumably to protect against air pressure changes. Decorative stonework was inlaid around the edges and lines of platinum filament rose up from the floor and inlay around the edges.
Just like the carts slowly being driven through this door through space, I walked through it and found myself in a giant chamber elsewhere. I don¡¯t know where I was. All I knew was that the room was huge. Easily 400 yards across with a massive inlaid domed roof like the Blue Mosque of Istanbul. I was standing on a road that led into the center of the space under the centermost dome. From there, roads like spokes on a bicycle radiated out to eight other shimmering gates.
In the exact center of the dome was a core that radiated power and space magic. I could see lines of platinum filament embedded into the walls and ceiling of the building running into the stone platinum inlay of each gate. But also running down into the floor and under construction to who knew where. And in my mage sight, I could see that it wasn¡¯t pure platinum but rather an alloy of platinum that was inlaid with ground up dungeon core and had the tiniest runes etched into its entire length.
People were wandering and chatting throughout the room. A steady hum of lively conversation was happening in the restaurants, coffee shops and park that filled the areas not used to transport goods. Teams of servants would rush out whenever there was a break in the traffic and clean up any refuse or droppings that horses or cattle had left. Carefully cultivated plants were everywhere. As I looked on, I saw someone with a nature affinity casting spells to convince the leaves on a ficus to grow.
Walking to the center circle, I saw a mosaic embedded into the concrete of the imperial symbol and the symbol of the merchant guild side by side. Around the circle were the names of the different destinations. I had come from Main Market and needed to go to the Imperial District road.
Fewer carts were moving to the imperial district, and the ones that did were far better built and far more ostentatious. However, the same architectural patterns occurred. At the end of the road under the massive dome, I stepped through a gate and found myself in a long hallway. On one side of the hall was a space large enough for wagons to maneuver through. This was separated from the walkway I was moving through by glass panels. At the end of the hallway was an attendant who merely waved me through when I tried to show him the pass I¡¯d bought.
Outside the buildings were majestic. I had seen the fringes of this district when I had left Chancellor Termass¡¯ home, but I hadn¡¯t been entirely focused on the setting, nor had I been on a main artery of the city. Here the city streets were vibrant with people in elaborate and beautiful clothing leading people in even more beautiful and expensive clothing around. Some people were followed by groups of men and women who were clearly bodyguards, and others had entire entourages.
Nobody jostled and pushed. In fact, everyone seemed to know exactly who they were permitted to bump into and who it would be a deadly insult to nudge or trip. I was wearing the simple black clothing that I had bought a few days earlier. It had been either that or my inquisition garb that was still dirty from the battlefields. People If they looked at me at all, treated me as if I had spent my morning rolling in goblin shit or I was leprous.
Smiling at the foibles of the aristocracy, I walked over to a group of rickshaws that were waiting for passengers. I walked to the foremost one and handed him the paper the family servant had written down the address to our villa on Chance Hill. After a quick payment that was surprisingly high ¡ª or low given the neighborhood, we set off at a run.
The streets here were hewn from a white marble, which I would have thought would have been far too soft a stone to pave a road out of, but an earth mage must have reinforced every marble slab along the route we took, or they must have spent a fortune repaving the streets every few years, because the traffic never let up as the rickshaw driver ran towards Chance Hill.
Our villa was a three-story building that was surrounded on all four sides by a ten foot high stone fence. There were four guards present at the front gate who looked prepared to disembowel me as I approached. I hadn¡¯t realized that my brother and sister needed nearly this much security. But then it had been almost a decade since I had seen either of them.
¡°Halt,¡± one of the guards said.
¡°I am expected,¡± I said. ¡°My name is Lynx Elm of House Lysturgus and the Clan Naato, please send someone to tell my brother and sister that I have arrived.¡±
¡°Of course my Lord, would you mind sitting down for a moment while I communicate with the main house?¡± The guard said.
¡°Certainly.¡±
I was led through a fortified steel door into the vesparsi ¡ª a small yet immaculately decorated room just through the guard station. Traditionally vesparsi¡¯s throughout the empire had no access to the main building. I would have to go through yet another fortified door to even make it to the main yard.
This kind of room could be either defended or attacked by the guards while segregating it entirely from the main house. There were murder holes along the top side of one wall with steel trap doors that could only be opened from the outside.
Keeping an unexpected guest, inside a vesparsi was a tradition from older times when it wasn¡¯t always safe to let someone directly into your home without checking out them out first. And even now, I was sure that at least one of the guards was a mage or had access to a tool that let them look me over with mage sight.
A few minutes later a soldier beckoned me through the doors and led into the family compound proper, where I was transferred over to a servant who walked me to the front door.
The path between the guard house and the villa was landscaped with trees and bushes that somehow were even blooming this late in the fall. I suspected that the family hired a nature mage to keep the garden pretty. But then I was beginning to suspect that the entire capital made use of every nature mage they could find just for landscaping and beautifying.
When I crossed the threshold into the house, I was met by yet another servant. This woman was dressed in beautiful clothing that was almost formal while still loudly shouting ¡°uniform.¡± She bowed to me. ¡°I am Hilde Muskrat Kelp if there is anything that you need while you are here my Lord simply ask and I will make sure you get it. If you will follow me.¡±
I expected to be led to a waiting room or a library to be kept until my brother and sister arrived. Instead, Hilde led me through a series of different hallways and then held a door open for me.
¡°These two servants will help you become more presentable,¡± Hilde said.
I entered the room, and two naked girls who couldn¡¯t have been older than 18 were standing by a sunken pool in the floor. Steam was rising from the pool.
¡°Hurry my lord, and take your clothes off.¡± Said one girl holding a bar of soap.
I sighed, taking off my shirt and preparing to be pampered.
It was a long process. First I was bathed by the two girls. This process involved a lot of pressing and giggling and was admittedly a lot of fun, but it was also strangely professional. At one point I reached out to cup one of the girl''s ass to draw her close, but the girl in question dodged neatly out of the way, and waved her finger and shook her head as if to say no.
When I had been soaped, washed, and rinsed all over, I was escorted out of the tub to a table nearby. One of the girls then rubbed me down with exotic oils, liberally dosed with perfumes. During this time the other girl gave me a manicure, a pedicure, and had me gargle horrible tasting liquids until my breath smelt like roses.
Then they cut my hair and gave me a shave. It had been a tradition in the army for the soldiers to have buzz cuts, but the runners often had left their hair long. I had followed the second route. Being polite, I would say that the girls did a fantastic job if the final result hadn¡¯t made me look like a member of the band ¡°Flock of Seagulls.¡± Apparently having killed off everyone who could tell them that 80¡¯s hairdos were terrible, the nobility of the Empire had gone and reinvented them. It could have been worse; the girls could have given me a mullet.
After that, it took me a surprisingly long time to explain to the girls that ¡°no I did not want to look fashionable. Yes, I loved them. No, I didn¡¯t want to make them cry. No, dying the tips bright pink wouldn¡¯t fix the problem. But could they please do something significantly more simple and relaxed with my hair?¡±
Another woman came in while the two girls were fixing the abomination they had created on my head. She dropped off some clothing and then when I was safely shorn, she had me stand and took measurements.
The clothing that she had brought didn¡¯t fit very well. I suspect that the whole household had been in a hurry. More than anything I suspected that they probably didn¡¯t want it to know that they had a family member who preferred to prance around the city dressed as a peasant. So the outfit they had me dress in was probably one of my brothers. Eomi was older, and probably had more time to mature into his body. I, on the other hand, was undoubtedly far more muscular.
The seamstress did her best to quickly hem the clothing, and soon enough it fit¡ sort of. The whole outfit was tight in places. But that couldn¡¯t be helped.
Finally, when I was presentable, I was led to a sitting room where a superfluous fire burned in the hearth, and tasteful yet useless nicknacks lined the shelves. I sat down in a chair to await my family.
About a half an hour later, my sister entered the room.
¡°Lynx Elm. So good of you to visit,¡± my sister said
¡°Kali Naga Tule it has been far too long.¡± We embraced for the formally recommended amount of time allowed by Imperial etiquette.
¡°Lynx Elm, would you like some tea and refreshments?¡± Kali said.
It was at that moment when my older brother stepped into the room, ¡°Lynx Elm, so glad you could join the family for dinner. Will you be in the city long? You must stay at the house, it is far too large to hold so few people.¡±
Again embracing my brother for the socially acceptable amount of time I said, ¡°Eomi Kitsune Eucalyptus, it is good to see you again.¡±
Kali spoke ¡°I have sent a message to a servant to bring refreshments. Why don¡¯t we all have a seat and reacquaint ourselves? Tell me, Lynx Elm, what have you been up too.¡±
¡°I just arrived from Desolation Valley a couple days ago. I was stationed there for the last few years, acting as a runner and representative of the Inquisition.¡±
¡°I hear the final battle was several days ago. It is a long journey from there. Are you sad you missed the engagement,¡± my sister said?
¡°I was there for the last push across the battlefield. I have a high life affinity and a significant amount of practice as a healer and life mage, so I was assigned to a field hospital in the forward most trench during the battle to help with triage, but there were so few casualties that I really did not have much to do. By that point, the enemy soldiers had been worn down so much they were pretty much defeated.¡±
¡°Then how did you get to the capital so quickly. Don¡¯t tell me that you are an adept space mage as well?¡± my brother said.
¡°No. No. No. Far from it. I had been planning to come by ship, but Lord General Aram Heron Sequoia suggested I join the group Chancellor Termass was gating here. After that, I booked an inn, and was planning to rest and do some reading in the Library before telling anyone where I was.¡±
¡°That is good to hear brother. It is good to hear that you are not in the city to damage the reputation of our house. Your sister and I had known from our Mother that you were with our glorious Imperial Army, but when we heard you were in the city, we feared you were absent without leave or were in hiding for some nefarious reason. Why else would you be in the city and not visit your only family?¡± My brother smiled as he said this.
A woman walked in and set a tray of charcuterie down on a small table near the fireplace. She also brought a bottle of wine and poured each of the three of us a glass. I sipped. The wine tasted similar to a white Burgundy. I did not really feel like eating, but my Sister got up and took some as did my brother, so I thought it was only polite if I had some food myself.
¡°So how do you like the capital so far.¡± My sister said.
¡°It is big,¡± I replied. ¡°I¡¯ve only seen Larkin and of course Umberge the city where we were born. Neither of those cities compares with Magrithiam.¡±
¡°There is no city like it,¡± my sister said.
¡°Do you have any future plans?¡± My brother asked. ¡°If you are skilled in healing Hapistrel college has an outstanding program for physicians. I could use a well-regarded healer and war hero in my future plans.¡±
¡°Eomi, I am hardly a war hero, and I do not even have my Status yet, nor have I had my affinities tested. I know a few of my skills through happenstance, but schooling is a long way off. Besides I am sure that once our Father discovers where I am, he will undoubtedly find some way to move me to his purposes. That was a part of the reason why I was so reluctant to make my presence known to you.¡±
¡°Is it so bad being our father¡¯s favorite,¡± my sister said.
¡°Favorite? For as long as I could remember he has called me ¡®the spare¡¯ and he has not cared whether I lived or died.¡± I said.
¡°That is far more affection than he lavished on me. I remember the one time he spoke with me, he said ¡®You are useless to me, go bother your mother.¡¯ We never spoke again,¡± my sister Kali said.
¡°At least he spoke with you Kali, even if just once, you are the heir to his lands after all. I only learned he was my father when mother mentioned it. Until then, I thought he was a cruel monster, and hid from him whenever I could. When he found me, as often as not, he beat me,¡± my brother said.
I took a sip of my wine. For my entire life, I had thought that my brother and sister had had it better than me. Apparently not.
A deep bass bell rang out, and my sister got up. ¡°Ah, that is the sign that it is dinner time. Come, little brother. Let us have a good meal. And then we will discuss how you can be of use to your brother and me.¡±
I followed my siblings into a dining room with a massive walnut table. Three setting laid out more for casual conversation and small talk than to overawe and impress me.
¡°Eomi, you will never guess,¡± my sister said.
¡°What?¡±
¡°Surely you have been aware of all the strange pregnancies around Resting Hill.¡±
¡°Of course, it has been almost impossible to have a liaison around there for the last two years and not get a woman pregnant. There must be some foul magic at work.¡±
¡°There is. There is. Don¡¯t tell anybody, but Lady Teni Unicorn Acorn was just discovered to be a Shaman.¡±
¡°No!¡±
¡°Yes. Think of the scandal.¡±
¡°The poor family. That is such peasant magic. What will they do with her.¡±
¡°I have heard from very reliable sources that they are sending Teni out to some family estate near a peasant village. Shaman are revered out in the boondocks.¡± My sister looked like she would break out in giggling at any moment.
¡°The poor girl. Teni did like her grand balls and opulence.¡± My brother laughed.
¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind my asking, but what is a Shaman,¡± I said.
My sister looked at me and let out a laugh, ¡°I don¡¯t know how much education you¡¯ve had over the years. But there are rather rare forms of magic called knacks, that appear every once in a while in bloodlines. Long ago our empire used to try to breed for them. Some people claim powerful families still do. Though ours is one of the most powerful, and I have seen no trace of it. Supposedly, and this is a legend, not fact, many of the great families began with someone with a powerful knack. And it is said that all of the Imperial consorts were chosen for having powerful or even multiple knacks if you can imagine such an impossibility.¡±
¡°Anyway, a Shaman is a kind of knack. Wherever poor Teni goes, for a mile or two around her, the people and especially the livestock are more likely to lose their inhibitions, are more likely to get with child, and are more likely to have large healthy litters or in the case of people ¡ª twins or even triplets. It is peasant magic. In ancient times Shaman were revered. But to find one living among the aristocracy¡¡±. My sister stifled a giggle.
My brother Eomi said, ¡°Think of all the bastards. There are some powerful families around Resting Hill.¡±
I said ¡°It can¡¯t be that bad, what about contraceptive spells?¡±
¡°According to what I¡¯ve heard, there hasn¡¯t been a contraceptive spell strong enough yet to stop the work of a Shaman. The sad thing is that poor Teni never even knew she was causing all this havoc. The Shaman Knack is passive, it works whether you will it or not.¡±
That set both my sisters and my brother back to laughing all over again.
When we finished eating, Kali got up and lead Eomi and me into yet another room. This room was filled with books and had deep comfortable leather chairs. ¡°Would you like coffee? Or something stronger, Cognac, Port, perhaps a single malt Whiskey? I can also have one of the servants bring some more wine,¡± she said.
¡°Some coffee would be nice,¡± I said.
Kali nodded to one of the servants. Then she got up and poured herself and Eomi a glass of something beautiful and amber from a nearby carafe. ¡°I do hope the Empire hurries up and conquers the Raal soon. Their Whiskies are superb but the cost to import it makes it a luxury even for the wealthiest families.¡±
Then, when the servant had brought me a cup with a dark black liquid, and I had added just a touch of milk, Eomi raised her glass and said, ¡°To Lynx Elm, may he live forever. Welcome back to the sane side of the family.¡±
We clinked our drinks and then sipped, before sitting back down in comfortable chairs.
¡°Lynx Elm, there has been something Kali and I have meant to ask you ever since we discovered you were in the City.¡±
¡°You see Lynx, I have recently begun to take part in Imperial politics, and with the elections this year, I believe I have a good chance to become one of the four Consuls of Platinum. We have a good family, good position, no public scandals and enough power that it would be a good fit. Your sister and I have long been secretly supporting two of the four Consuls of Copper, and they are beholden to us, as well as one of the consuls of Gold and maybe even a Consul of Silver, though her loyalties are less sure.¡±
¡°I see,¡± I said.
According to tradition, Laws were passed, Wars were declared, Taxes were decided in the Imperial Legislature. The Legislature was made up of six groups wielding various amounts of power. There were:
- Sixteen Platinum Status Citizens (elected every 5 years) each could cast one vote.
- Twelve Gold Status Citizens (elected every 5 years) each could cast one vote.
- Seven Silver Status Citizens (elected every 5 years) each could cast one vote.
- Seven Copper Status Citizens (elected every 5 years) each could cast one vote.
- The representative of each of the seven official Imperial orders could cast a ballot.
- Six representatives from among the Army, the Navy and the Mage core each could cast a vote.
- Six representatives chosen from the 23 official universities in the Empire could cast ballots.
- Each of the twelve Chancellors (who I now knew to be vampires) had a vote.
- The Emperor¡¯s vote counted as twenty votes, but she rarely voted these days.
This was how significant decisions in the Empire were made. The legislature even had their own government hill that was located on the hill furthest away from the Imperial Palace to emphasize a separation between Imperial power and secular power, even if that separation was sometimes an illusion.
¡°Yes. Having a brother who is an Inquisitor, and a war hero, and who wants to help the sick and the poor by becoming a physician once he reaches his status would be an incredible coup for me. I would like to invite you to a few parties and meetings. Introduce you around to some of my friends. Let you meet some of the important people in the Capital. It will be fun.¡±
¡°As I said, Eomi, I am not a war hero. And despite father¡¯s wishes, I have no real interest in becoming an Inquisitor. But I don¡¯t mind going to one or two parties if it will help you out, as long as you agree to let me have most of my time to myself. I do not wish to get caught all up in the affairs of the nobility. I can stop by every once in a while. Send me a message, and give me at least a day¡¯s notice ¡ª I am staying at the Pluckered Peacock, near the main market ¡ª and I will show up. But I would rather spend my time reading and studying than playing politics for now.¡± I said.
Chapter 39 - Learning New Things.
I woke up the next morning in the most comfortable bed I had ever slept in. Not that that was saying much since I¡¯d only slept in military cots, several cheap inns, on the forest floor, and the spartan furnishings my father had allowed me long ago. The bed was so comfortable I almost considered sleeping in, but forced myself out of bed just a bit after my usual time.
In the wardrobe were three sets of clothing that were perfectly fitted for my body. None of which was the simple black clothing I¡¯d worn coming here.
Resigned, after I¡¯d showered and primped myself, I put on the least offensive of the three outfits and put the other two in the dimensional pouch I carried with me.
I made my way to the front door. Neither my brother or sister were up yet, and so I left a note with one of the servants:
Eomi and Kali,
I was nice to see the two of you again. While I would dearly enjoy renewing our acquaintance, I have obligations in the city that I cannot avoid. I will be staying at the Pluckered Peacock in the central market district for the foreseeable future. You can reach me there.
Lynx Elm
Then I headed out.
Unfortunately, the family servant was probably correct that the Inquisition had undoubtedly been alerted to my presence in the city when I had given my blood at the Library. As a result, I would have to visit the Inquisitors eventually.
Fortunately, the family estate was nearby the main headquarters of the Inquisition. Our family had a long tradition of serving, and the estates had been chosen for proximity, despite the current occupancy. Deciding it was better to arrive dressed like a fop than dressed in uniform to stress that I wanted to take some time off, I chose not to go back to my room in the Inn to change.
The headquarters was a building shaped like a black cube to my rough estimate 1000 feet in all directions. There were no windows, no markings, no ornamentation of any kind on any of the walls. Instead, the black shape was located in the exact center of a field of limestone aggregate. A simple concrete path through the gravel lead from the road to a massive set of doors set into the enormous edifice.
The doors were glass when I got to them, and they swung open easily to my push. Inside I found myself in what I could only describe as a lobby. The kind of hall I remembered from the headquarters of multi-billion dollar corporations back home.
I walked to the large front desk and spoke to one of the receptionists. All the receptionists were wearing the uniform of the inquisition.
¡°I¡¯m Squire Lieutenant Lynx Elm, I will be in the city for the next month or so, visiting family and following up on some personal projects. I thought I should check in.¡± I showed the receptionist the ring I hadn¡¯t been able to remove and had been trying to forget since I got it in that strange ceremony back in Larkin.
¡°Someone will come out to see you momentarily.¡± The woman I was speaking with said.
I paced for a few trying minutes until a man in the uniform of a knight captain of the Inquisition entered the lobby and walked over to me.
¡°Lynx Elm. I¡¯m Knight Captain Petr Robin Ginko. If you would come with me.¡± He said before turning and walking deeper into the building.
I followed him as he walked, neither of us said anything. He led me down a flight of stairs and to an office, and he sat down at a desk then motioned that I sit down as well.
¡°So you¡¯ve come from Devotion Valley?¡± He said.
¡°Yes. The battle war was winding down, we¡¯d conquered the valley, I asked permission from the Lord General and was granted leave to quit the runner program. I came to the city with Chancellor Termass several days ago.¡±
¡°Strictly speaking, you didn¡¯t report to the Lord General.¡± The inquisitor said. ¡°Lord Samdi is still at the battlefront and as an Inquisitor he would be your superior officer.¡±
A grimace must have shown on my face. And the inquisitor I was speaking waved his hand. ¡°I understand your hesitation completely, and truly Samdi has been sending messages asking to return himself. For various reasons that don¡¯t concern you ¡ª though I¡¯m sure that you can figure them out having worked with the man ¡ª we would rather keep Samdi as far away as possible from polite society. Preferably where he can be useful but do as little harm as possible.¡±
¡°Furthermore, strictly speaking, your commanding officer is your father, who¡¡±
The door to the office opened, and a man stuck his head in, ¡°Petr you have got to hear this Twice-Lived.¡±
¡°Karl I¡¯m with a junior.¡± The man I was talking to said.
¡°Bring him, this could be educational,¡± the inquisitor named Karl said.
Petr stood up from behind the desk and motioned I follow. We left the room and walked down the hall to a much bigger room that seemed to be a viewing room to an interrogation room.
¡°¡ and furthermore I find the term Twice-Lived to be pejorative. I prefer the term Sequentially Born Imperial Citizen.¡±
¡°Who cares what you think.¡± The inquisitor in the room with the Twice-Lived man said in frustration.
But that didn¡¯t stop the man from continuing. ¡°Twice-Lived isn¡¯t even grammatically correct. Lived is past tense. I have lived once, but I am still living my second life. You could say Twice Born, or Second Life, but Twice-Lived is incorrect usage until after I have to die¡¡±
As the Twice-Lived was speaking, Knight-Captain Petr who I¡¯d been in the meeting with groaned and then opened up a small slot in the wall and said, ¡°Just kill him, I don¡¯t have time for this.¡±
¡°¡ for all you know I could be Thrice Lived or even Four Times Lived¡¡±
The Inquisitor nodded in the direction of Knight-Captain Petr then stepped behind the Twice-Lived dropped a garrote around his neck and suffocated him.
¡°You¡ haven¡¯t heard¡ the last from me¡¡± the Sequentially Born Imperial Citizen croaked before he died.
Once we were back in Knight Captain Petr¡¯s office, he said ¡°What was I saying? Oh yes. It isn¡¯t Samdi who is your commanding officer, nor strictly speaking is anyone at this headquarters. You are in the chain of command. If you hadn¡¯t requested personal leave time, I would simply have given you the regular duties of a junior officer. Your Father, however, is your supervisor and since we have received a dispatch that your father the Knight General will be visiting the headquarters soon, he might as well take charge of you once he gets here.¡±
¡°My father is expected here?¡± I said.
¡°We got word of it yesterday. Since you lack a proper status, we have no way of communicating with you directly. If you would not mind, I will make a note of where you can be reached. Other than that, your time is yours to do as you see fit. If you have any need for the inquisitors or would like any guidance in our ways, feel free to contact me.¡±
I was about to leave when the Knight Captain turned to me and said. ¡°One more thing. There have been vandals putting up signs around the city about something called a Strawberry Fields. If you come into any information about this, contact the inquisition immediately.¡±
After that, I gave the Knight Captain the name of the Inn where I was staying and also the address to the family estate. Undoubtedly he already had the second bit of information, but it wouldn¡¯t hurt to give it again. Then I was led back out to the front door.
I needed to think, so I began walking back to the location of the nearest gate rather than catch a rickshaw. When I passed the family estate, I stopped off at the entrance and left a message telling my siblings that dear old dad would be in the city soon. They must have some way they dealt with him when he was around, but I didn¡¯t feel like asking or finding out.
When I was inside the hub of merchant¡¯s guild gate complex, I stopped off for a snack before heading towards the central market.
Asking around in the market I could not find a merchant who dealt in either chimpanzees or goblins and finding something similar enough to humans probably didn¡¯t matter for the time being. Instead, I bought a score of cages, a table, a chair, a couple canvas bags, a crate of canned fish, some work gloves, liquid soap, 2 massive bags of sand, a half dozen low cut boxes and a bunch of mage light. I also went to a mage supply store and picked up some supplies for blood magic. Test tubes, papers, a small centrifuge, and a runic cooler. All of this, I had delivered to the warehouse I¡¯d rented the day before.
I filled the boxes with sand and lay the cages on top, then scattered these groups around the room.
The warehouse had some security runes set around it, but they weren¡¯t very potent. It took me about two hours to completely redo the security of the warehouse with some extremely powerful warding runes. While I¡¯d learned a lot about breaking through wards from my studies in Devotion Valley, I had done so by learning how to set them up. It was the one branch of Arcane magic I¡¯d had time to study so far, but my affinity with that branch of magic was as high if not higher than with life magic. Someone would have to have an extremely high affinity for arcane magic to break through the wards I¡¯d set up.
Then for the next few hours, I worked on the runes that I got out of the book in the library. When it was dark outside, I left to hunt.
For cats.
The alley behind the warehouse was dark. One of the things I had noticed when I had been hunting for a place to set up a lab were signs of a colony of feral cats. After a bit of hunting, I found a group of cats congregating two alleys away. Casting a life spell, I stunned them, then put six of the largest in three of the canvas sacs I¡¯d carried with me.
I was about to turn and leave when something a girlfriend from long ago had pestered me about came to mind, and so I stopped. Returning to the unconscious cats lying in the street and laying the bags of cats I was carrying down, I tracked down every visible cat I could see, and cast a spell on each of them to sterilize them. I also threw a quick healing spell and anti-flea spell on each of them. I was silly. Old earth concerns about animal control probably made no difference here. Shaking my head, I was too sentimental.
Back in my the warehouse I gave each cat a bath before recasting the anti-flea spell. Followed up by an anti-worm spell, and anti-rabies magic. Then I took a sample of each cat¡¯s blood carefully marking which vial of blood came from which cat. Finally, each cat was placed inside a cage, with a bowl of water.
Then I went back out with another canvas sac. This time I was hunting for rats. Rats were simultaneously easier to find and harder. Unlike the feral cats, rats didn¡¯t form large colonies. They also tended to hide in the trash, and I wasn¡¯t all that interested in digging through garbage. Hunting for rats required me to catch them in ones and twos, but eventually, I had a bag full of fourteen fat stunned ones. Knowing rats, I was especially careful to cast anti-insect and worm spells on them, as well as using my measly water affinity to hose their unconscious bodies off.
The rats went into a separate cage back in the warehouse after I took samples of each of their blood and marked each vial according to the rat and cage they were in. The rats were far less critical than the cats, but it was essential to keep the records.
In the sunlight of the next morning, I visited Allaana and sparred with her students for a few hours before heading over to the warehouse.
The cats were awake in their cages and were making loud mewling noises. Opening a couple of cans of fish divided the portions into six small bowls and put a dish into each cage. The cats hissed and yowled at me when I came near. One even tried to scratch and bite, but I was expecting it and wore work gloves to protect my hands.
The first test was relatively simple. Using ink mixed with powdered dungeon core I drew the runes to the shield that I had puzzled out from Hener the force mage around the first cat¡¯s cage. Then I powered the runes with enough mana for the spell to stay up for about four hours. With my mage sight, I could see a dome of life magic from around the cage.
Taking out the vial of the first cat¡¯s blood, I took out dabbed enough blood out onto a paper to perform blood magic, then restoppered the vial.
Using the cat¡¯s blood, I used blood magic to scry the cat¡¯s location. The night before I had created a map of the warehouse, essentially a large rectangle with a small drop of blood from each of my captured cats corresponding to the location on the map where I¡¯d put the cage.
Using blood magic, I could use sympathetic life magic with the location of any three other known cats, to try to detect the position of the ¡®unknown¡¯ fourth cat with a sample of its blood. The blood of the cat behind the runic shield would be the fourth cat I was searching for.
If the shield I¡¯d constructed was working the way I hoped, I shouldn¡¯t be able to detect the cat behind the runic dome of life magic. Crossing my fingers, I cast the blood magic spell.
The blood on the map went directly to where the cat was located. At the very minimum, the shield would not block scrying. The next test I tried was to try to use blood magic to find the cat but to sense it. I cast that spell, and suddenly I knew exactly where the cat was located.
Then I took out some paper and sketched out the runes for the shielding spell. Strictly speaking, the runes read stop life. What that meant was open to interpretation. So I stood up and walked over to the cat. Functionally there should be very little difference between a blood magic spell and a healing spell or a healing spell, but just in case. I cast the calming spell on the cat, and it fell unconscious. Then I cast a healing spell on it, and I could sense the cat¡¯s body soaking up healing magic.
The next step I took was to render one of the rats unconscious, remove it out of its cage, tied a string around the rat and then gently swung the unconscious rat like a pendulum through the life stopping shield.
Unfortunately, the rat passed through the life shield without any resistance. Stop life apparently didn¡¯t mean stop living things. Then I checked to see if the rat was still living. It was.
Feeling frustrated I put the unconscious rat back in its cage and then sat down at the table I was using as a desk. Taking out some paper, I spent about twenty minutes writing out notes about all my experiments, before leaning back and trying to think of the next step. I could set up the runes on the next Cat so that they were much stronger to see if the amount of power affected anything.
Then I stopped. There was one test that I had forgotten to make. I kept forgetting necessary detection magic. Not blood magic which focused the living essence in blood, but merely sending out a pulse of my own life magic like a bat and using my life sense to feel for reflections. It was a far more passive skill than blood magic, less invasive.
I sent out a pulse, and a fraction of a second I was presented with an image of the life in the warehouse. Five cat-shaped objects were clearly outlined, as were 14 rat shapes in cages, as well as some mice in the walls, and one large sphere where the sixth cat should have been.
Interesting. Completely useless, but interesting.
Just out of curiosity, I moved on to the second cat. This time when I set up the runes, I went out of my way to grind up some of the most potent core fragments that I¡¯d gotten as loot from Tequital before mixing this dust with ink. I then drew the same runic shield as the first one, but when I infused it with mana, I powered it with as much power as I could. The mana flowed out of me like a raging torrent and kept only enough to keep me awake and cast a few spells.
The detection spell worked exactly like it had before. The runes showed a circle of life around the cat rather than the cat itself, meaning that my runes were stopping the detection spell. Life wasn¡¯t getting through.
Next, I tried to knock the cat unconscious. This was different, with the amount of power I had left, I could barely make it through the shield. The cat stretched, glared at me, but did not fall asleep.
I sat down and rested for a few minutes hoping to get some mana back. Fuck it. I sent a tendril of power out and drained all of the rats except one. It wasn¡¯t a whole lot of mana, but it was enough to cast a blood magic spell. I sent out my senses on a wave of blood magic and¡ nothing¡ no¡ no¡ I could feel something. A faint trace of the cat. It felt like I was trying to yell at a cat a million miles away at the bottom of an ocean somewhere.
Interesting. Completely impractical, but interesting.
Then I tied a rat to a string and swung it through the sphere space of the rune. The rat moved through the area unimpeded, and when I examined it, the rat was still alive.
The last thing I tried was to try and send out a tendril of my witch sense and drain the cat. It was like another sense, a thin straw of power that reached out of my body, stretching out towards the cat and then nothing. When the tendril reached the shield it was as if there was nothing there.
It was getting late, and I used soap and water to wash away the runes I¡¯d drawn on the floor. I was exhausted, but I still took the time to feed the cats a second time before stumbling back to the inn for some food.
The standard room to the inn was lively when I entered. There was a string quartet playing in the corner, and every table was full. I pushed my way to the bar, eventually finding a stool and ordered a meal. The innkeeper put a plate with spiced ground lamb wrapped in grape leaves and something made from quinoa, fried Brussels sprouts, and beans, plus a pint of some sort of wheat beer.
Eating a good meal, did an incredible job of replenishing my internal supply of mana. Just before I went upstairs, the innkeeper came over to me and said, ¡°oh, I forgot, but a messenger dropped this letter off for you.¡± And handed me a folded parchment closed with the wax seal of our branch of House Naato.
¡°Thanks,¡± I said and took the letter upstairs to my room. Flopping down on my bed, I took out a dagger and opened the letter.
Lynx Elm,
I hope this missive finds you in good health. Thank you for letting us know that daddy dearest will be in town. There is a small get together tomorrow evening at the home of Lord Cloy Bear Teak, and we would like to invite you to come as our guest. Think of this as your introduction to proper society. Be at our villa at around 5:30 and the three of us will go together.
Eomi Kitsune Eucalyptus
It looks like I had an appointment for the next day.
That morning I got up and headed over to spar with Allaana¡¯s students. It was fun and a good workout. Allaana would occasionally stop a fight and give pointers. I¡¯d sparred with her a few times, and could usually hold my own, but she was an unyielding opponent.
That morning I was sparring with one of her better students. I could never remember his name, and he stayed quiet whenever he fought. Martiam, the healer had told that he was a mute, and maybe he compensated for his inability to speak by his snake-like reflexes with a practice sword.
We had gone back and forth across the circle. A flurry of blows and feints. Usually, my fights didn¡¯t last this long. I preferred to land killing blows quickly, but I couldn¡¯t get through this guy¡¯s defenses. And it was only a small comfort that he couldn¡¯t get through my own.
We had been exchanging blows for who knows how long. Time was nothing except a constant clank of metal striking at metal. I had tried to out skill this guy, and we were equal, I ''d attempted to disarm him, and he hadn¡¯t succumbed, I had even spent a few moments attacking his sword trying to break his blade, but the practice blade he yielded was made from soft iron and didn¡¯t break easily.
With a flurry of blows, I drove him backward, and he gave ground. If I could use magic, this fight would be over, but we were forbidden from using magic so that we would improve our actual blade work.
Just when he was reaching the border of the circle, he began to speed up his blows and drive me backward. Where was this guy getting his energy from? I exhausted and was about to drop, and he seemed as fresh as the moment he began.
His blows began to push me backward. I forced my sword strikes to fall into a pattern, leaving an opening. It wasn¡¯t a visible opening, but anybody as skilled as he apparently was would be able to see it. I was hoping that he would think that the exhaustion from the fight was making me sloppy.
I was right. He went for the opening, and I was waiting for him. I struck like a lightning bolt from out of the sky. Except he must have known that I was faking because I hadn¡¯t noticed that he had never fully committed, and my strike was met by my opponent stepping out of the way of my blade, while my own sword was knocked out of my hand.
The next thing I knew Martiam was standing over me healing me, and my stomach and side felt like they¡¯d been run over by a tank.
¡°Good fight Lynx,¡± Allaana said standing over my body.
¡°Ow!¡± I said.
¡°Seriously. Good fight. I didn¡¯t expect you to last half that long against Melvyn.¡± Allaana said.
¡°Melvyn? I was destroyed by a man named Melvyn?¡±
¡°Is there something wrong with that?¡± Allaana said. ¡°He comes from one of the lesser noble family. A long line of mages with body affinity.¡±
¡°I thought we weren¡¯t supposed to use mana in the fight,¡± I complained.
¡°True, but nobody said, you couldn¡¯t reinforce your body before the fight. That is what Melvyn did. Effective was it not. You did extremely well keeping up with a body affinity warrior, especially one with his status already. That was a test of sorts.¡±
¡°Ow!¡± I said again.
¡°I really can¡¯t help you much with your forms or technique. You might want to consider coming here more simply to teach. Teaching someone would do your technique wonders. It would force you to break down the movements you do naturally, to pass them on to a student.¡± Allaana said.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
¡°I will think about it. I don¡¯t know how long I will be in the city and I have other obligations, so I can¡¯t promise anything.¡±
¡°That¡¯s fine. I only wanted to give you the option. Think about it and let me know. I¡¯m not sure how much you will get out of these sparring sessions. Beyond the workout factor, you are beyond them.¡±
The practice yard had a change room and a shower, so I changed into street clothes and made my way to the Mercenary Guild.
Nynaeve was not working when I got there, so I ordered a beer and found a table by one of the walls and began working on fixing the older set of runes I had discovered. Now that I had cast my version of the force rune, I could see similarities to what I had done, but there were plenty of differences.
The most significant difference was that my life shield was entirely made of pure life magic, whereas the protection that was being described in the book was a clever combination of life magic and arcane magic.
It did bother me that I hadn¡¯t found more books on the subject of life shields in the Library. Even as underpowered and awkward as the one that I had been working on yesterday showed an incredible amount of versatility.
One of these days if I had the chance I was going to have to make a thorough study of Arcane Magic. Only using the affinity to break into buildings was trivializing a significant resource.
Considering that this was a culture that made heavy use of blood magic and run by Vampires it made sense that things that blocked life magic would be hidden. Or at least extremely restricted knowledge.
Nynaeve came in at around three in the afternoon, and I waved, but I don¡¯t think she saw me because just as I waved a couple of the mercenaries began to fight. One woman even picked up a chair and was about to smash a man, who was punching another man, over the head. It was then that Nynaeve stepped in with a stout stick and smacked the mercenary holding the chair in hand. She dropped the chair and cried out like a little girl, unlike the very-large very-drunk woman she was. Like a practiced bouncer, Nynaeve moved through the fight smacking several drunken fighters with her stick, quickly ending the brawl.
The mercenary who dropped the chair and yelled ¡°Ow, Nana, why did you go and do that. We were just having a friendly conversation.¡±
¡°Ya, Nynaeve. The fight was just getting exciting.¡± Said another mercenary rubbing a freshly bruised head.
¡°You can have many ¡®friendly conversations¡¯ as you want, but don¡¯t break the furniture when you do it, and try to take the really rough and tumble outside. I am sick and tired of moping up blood stains from the floor after you¡¯ve all left for the night.¡± said Nynaeve.
There was a rousing chorus of ¡°You¡¯re no fun,¡± ¡°You suck Nynaeve,¡± and ¡°It was just starting to get good.¡± From around the room.
Nynaeve sighed and pulled her braid. ¡°Ugh. Mercenaries.¡± She said in exasperation as she approached my table.
¡°Lynx Elm, I don¡¯t know why you come here. You don¡¯t look like the irresponsible idiot type. I doubt you want to become a mercenary. Normally I¡¯d say you¡¯re here to recruit help, but you haven¡¯t even inquired about hiring people.¡±
¡°Who knows, maybe here to dig up guild secrets.¡± I laughed and said ¡°Kidding. Really. I¡¯m kidding. I just feel uncomfortable around the gentry. My own inn is dull. And this bar is just as close to the inn I¡¯m staying at as it is to other places I need to be. Plus I like people-watching, and I am grateful for all your mother¡¯s help.¡±
Nynaeve looked at me oddly and then said, ¡°You didn¡¯t look like an agent of the Order Numismatica. Although I suppose spies aren¡¯t supposed to look like spies. Not that there is much to learn here except how to stumble around drunk and I don¡¯t see you trying to chat up anyone.¡±
¡°I have no idea what the Order Numismatica is, but I do have to ask are we still on for next week. I¡¯m looking forward to probing you with¡ umm¡ questions. And over good food and wine, I have ways of making you talk.¡±
¡°I¡¯m looking forward to it, but I have to get back to work,¡± she said.
At around four o¡¯clock I made my way back to my inn and changed into better clothing, then headed out to Resting Hill, by way of the gate hub in the market and then a rickshaw driver to the family estates. I had a much easier time to get into the house this time. The guards at the gate directly looked at me and opened the gate to let me in.
Inside the house I found Eomi waiting in the front room.
¡°We¡¯re waiting for Kali. She is late. Women! You tell them to get ready for 4:30 and when 5:30 comes around you are still waiting for them to finish primping. We might as well sit down. This will be a while.¡± Eomi said sighing in exaggerated exasperation. ¡°I¡¯m lying, I¡¯m lying. We have other guests coming to hitch a ride. You are just the first to arrive. There is plenty of time. Would you like something to drink?¡±
¡°What are you having?¡± I asked.
¡°Whiskey neat.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll have the same then.¡±
My brother walked over to a table and poured two glass of whiskey and then added just a drop of water to each glass to open up the flavor. ¡°18 years old. I hope that the Empire conquers the island that makes single malt whiskey soon. They make the best single malt whiskey, and I simply love the peaty flavor.¡±
Eomi handed me a glass. ¡°Have you been enjoying your time in our glorious city?¡±
Before I could answer a servant ushered in another three people.
¡°Eomi, my love, how are you,¡± a young man said as he walked over to the bar and poured himself a glass out of the same decanter Eomi had poured our drink.
¡°Trass, be a darling and pour some wine, something so deep and red it looks like blood in a glass.¡± Another woman said as she lounged in a chair.
¡°And who is this lovely boy, Eomi? You didn¡¯t say you were bringing us a new toy. He looks incredibly tasty.¡± The third person, a woman who sat down on the couch beside me. ¡°I think I will have whatever he is having. What do you have my darling.¡±
¡°Lala this is my brother. Lynx meet Lala. Lala meet Lynx.¡±
¡°Eomi, naughty boy, you never mentioned you had a brother. Where have you been hiding him? I thought I¡¯d chased you all through this house. What deep dark corner haven¡¯t we explored and do we have time to rumple ourselves in there before we leave.¡± Lala said.
¡°Lynx was raised by daddy dearest. Apparently, he has special genetics, so he wasn¡¯t allowed to get properly decadent like us.¡±
¡°Really. I wonder how special.¡± Lala¡¯s hand began settled on my shoulder and began to slowly make away down my chest. ¡°His body is so young and firm. I may have to take him for a spin. Lynx, there is an old song from centuries ago, but it applies. Whatever Lala wants, Lala gets. And Lala is beginning to want a pet Lynx.¡±
It was at that moment that Kali came down the stair. ¡°Trass, darling. You came.¡± Kali rushed over to the young man who had finished distributing drinks and gave him a kiss on both of his cheeks.
¡°As if you could keep me away. Who else is coming.¡± Trass said.
¡°I think this is everyone,¡± Eomi said. ¡°The party is over on Resting Hill, and you know that they are a different sort. The mage is in the other room, and I only have him booked for another five minutes, so if everyone is ready?¡±
¡°It seems crass to drink and not to savor such a marvelous beverage, but oh well, as the common people say, bottoms up,¡± Trass said chugging back his single malt whiskey.
¡°Bottoms up¡± Said Eomi and Lala as they along with myself finished my drink.
The group of us moved into the first room that I had come in on the first day I had arrived. A less formal waiting room. A mage in a wrinkled outfit with a black stripe on his jacket indicating that he was an officially licensed Space Mage.
I said to him, ¡°I was told when I was in Devotion Valley that there were only three Space Mages in the Empire. Are you one of them.¡±
¡°No my Lord. There are only three Master Mages capable of transporting people across the continent. But there are twenty of us capable of opening gates around town.¡± He said.
¡°Lynx darling, quit yammering with the help, be a good boy and act pretty for me,¡± Said Lala.
The mage concentrated and a hole opened onto a grassy plot of land just off of a busy street. The six of us made our way through as did the Space Mage.
¡°Thank you for using About Town Transport, the fee for this service has been added to your account. Feel to contact us at any time for all of your About Town travel needs.¡± The space mage said, and then opened up another gate and left.
The estates of this region were significantly larger and newer than the ones around Chance Hill. Resting Hill was one of the traditional hills of the Imperial city, but it was located across the river, and so it had been slower to be claimed by the very rich. That had changed when Hapistrel University had become the leading college in the empire with regards to medicine and the healing arts.
Many of the homes of the Platinum Status nobility in this area were not part of clans. Many had risen through either their own effort or the effort of one of their ancestors. Sometimes from as low as Copper Status. As a result, the area had a different feel to it, that I couldn¡¯t quite put my finger on. The feeling wasn¡¯t necessarily less oppressive, or less snobbish, just different, somehow more competitive and at the same time more rigid.
Instead wrought ironwork gates formed into elaborate patterns swung from pillars of marble. The peaks of the gates were gilded mythril. Similar ironwork continued all the way around the vast estates, and growing along the ironwork were towering cypress trees. With my mage sight, I could see incredibly powerful runes worked into all the iron.
The land that was protected by the fence was a vast well-groomed lawn. Two white marble fountains in reflecting pools on either side of a path that ran from the gate to the main house. Majestic oak trees rose up into the sky.
Eomi led the way holding up a parchment that I assume was some sort of invitation, and the guards at the gate waved the lot of us through. We walked along the path, up ahead Kali was chatting with Trass, Eomi was talking with the woman I hadn¡¯t been introduced to yet, and¡
I suddenly felt my ass being grabbed. I turned and saw Lala smiling.
¡°So Eomi says you have special genetics. Call me intrigued. Do you have any high affinities or Knacks.¡± Lala said.
¡°Ummm¡ ¡° I said, feeling uncomfortable.
¡°Come on Lynxie-baby, it¡¯s just between you and me,¡± Lala said.
¡°I have a high life affinity and a minor body knack,¡± I said.
¡°And you don¡¯t have your status yet? You haven¡¯t been assessed? Interesting. Lynx, I have an important question for you.¡±
¡°What?¡±
¡°You¡¯re making me blush like a school girl Lynx,¡± Lala said with complete insincerity, ¡°this might be a bit forward, but have you ever touched a woman¡¯s breasts, and more importantly would you like to touch mine?¡±
¡°Genetics are that important?¡± I said.
In response, she just pressed her ample chest up against my side.
¡°Ummm¡ I don¡¯t know what to say, this is so unexpected.¡±
¡°I know I seem a bit forward, but I believe in seizing life by the testicles and squeezing. Soon you will turn 16, and after your status ceremony the Order of Seers will map out your affinities and genetic potential and will start to suggest optimal partners and pairings. After that, any little liaisons you will have will become far more¡ formalized and overseen.¡±
¡°Formalized? Order of Seers? I know that the Order of Seers is one of the Imperial Orders but nobody ever actually told me what they do.¡± I said.
¡°Lynx Elm has anybody ever told you that you are a peculiar boy. I promise a bounty that few would pass up and you go on and on about such weary subjects. Are you gay by any chance? Otherwise, why would you want to talk about such a dreadful and dreary subject?¡± She asked.
¡°Just curious, I haven¡¯t heard much about the other orders except the Inquisition. And I only know about them because I seem to have been recruited.¡±
¡°You are an Inquisitor?¡± Lala said.
¡°Yes, a Squire Lieutenant,¡± I said.
¡°Hmmm, I might have to make some reevaluations. If you don¡¯t mind, I may talk to you later.¡± Lala said and sashayed over to the conversation that Kali was having with her friend, and I walked alone for the last 20 or so yards to the entrance to the estate.
Two guards that looked more like peacocks than defenders stood outside the front door holding halberds that looked more ceremonial than utilitarian. They ignored our group as we entered the house into a grand foyer. Marble was everywhere ¡ª including a stylized rendering of the family seal in marble and mythril on the floor of the lobby ¡ª and the ceilings were over thirty feet high, with large crystal and dungeon core chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Rare polished woods from dungeon growing trees were on the railings and treads of the stairway as well as the elaborate pocket doors into the other rooms.
There was already a crowd meandering in the room just off of the main foyer, and Kali headed that way, while we all followed her.
¡°Kali, Eomi, Verma, Lala, Trass. So glad you could make it. And who is your guest? He looks positively unblemished.¡±
¡°This is my younger brother Lynx. He is back from serving in Devotion Valley. I thought I would introduce him to the better parts of society, but they weren¡¯t available, so we came here,¡± my sister said laughing.
The man laughed too. ¡°The better parts of society are so stodgy and dull, that I cannot imagine a reason why anyone would want to be part of them. Lynx, I am Vermont Lion Sequoia, and it is good to make your acquaintance.¡±
Vermont held out his hand for me to shake and I took it. I caught a slight twitch in his eye of recognition when he saw the ring of the inquisition on my hand, but he said nothing. I looked at his hand and saw he had a different sort of ring on his own finger, but I did not say anything either.
Eomi walked over to Vermont and said, ¡°I have meant to talk to you about my run for Consul of the Platinum, I could really use your support. You know my opponent Quinlan and what an unmitigated ass he is.¡±
Vermont raised his hand to stop my brother¡¯s speaking. ¡°I should stop you right there, Quinlan is a guest here tonight, and I don¡¯t want you saying anything you might regret. As to whom I will support, I am still treading lightly through the hills and valleys of the decision process. I will let both of you know when I am ready. Until then, enjoy my little get together.¡±
¡°To the beverage table,¡± said Trass. ¡°Vermont, my taste buds may exalt you, but my liver feels nothing but sadness.¡±
As the others were moving finding ways to send themselves into inebriation I stood surveying the room. There were roughly thirty guests that I could see, though undoubtedly there were more in other places.
Joining my family over at the bar, I had a servant pour me a snifter of whiskey, and I added a couple drops of water then started wandering around. There were people from all over the empire and even some people from outside the empire. I distinctly heard two people speaking Cretan, and I would have gone over to practice my language skills but they were talking about shipments of porcelains, and the topic sounded dreary.
As I wandered further into the house, Cretan wasn¡¯t even the most exotic language I heard. Here and there were people from other nations on other continents. They stood chatting in foreign garb and often in little groups, cliques sequestered or among the rest of the imperial subjects at the party.
When I overheard a group of three people speaking in Cretan about the situation in Devotion Valley I couldn¡¯t help but step in.
¡°¡ We just don¡¯t have enough first-hand knowledge of what¡¯s going on out there. All I can get is official Imperial military propaganda¡¡±
¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind if I intrude,¡± I said in my best Cretan. ¡°But I overheard you speaking of Devotion Valley. I just came from there a couple days ago. I came to the city by way of gate, and was stationed there as a Runner and Squire Lieutenant for several years.¡±
The man looked at the woman who looked at the other man and then came the barrage of questions.
¡°Is it true the valley has been taken and the army there, defeated?¡±
¡°Do you know if it really was Tequital who fought against the Empire, and is he dead or did he escape?¡±
¡°How soon do you think the pass will be open for trade?¡±
I held up my hand and began to tell what happened and what I had seen over the last few days in the valley. From the attack on our side that got defeated by the illusion to the continued barrage of fireballs that abruptly stopped for some unknown reason one day, finally to the Imperial attack on the Argran forces, and how poorly conditioned the enemy was by that point. I mentioned that it sounded as if the vast majority of the healthy men and women from that land had been expended fighting and Argran seemed to only have the young and old left in their military.
¡°But what about Hisop? Does the empire plan to take that city? What about the primordial dungeon there?¡± one of the two men I was speaking with asked.
¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t know that. I assume that the Empire will push through and seize the entire nation, but if they leave Hisop or try to take it is something that I am not involved in.¡±
The three people started arguing about the various independent city-states that were in empire or that the empire was allied with and hadn¡¯t bothered to conquer. They thanked me, and since I didn¡¯t have anything more to say I drifted away.
Then I felt a presence behind me. I turned and saw Vermont.
¡°You speak Cretan well,¡± he said.
¡°You should have heard me when I began. I spent a year training with someone who¡¯s only means of communication was an extremely backwoods form of Cretan. It took me years of practice not to be embarrassed by speaking the language in public.¡±
¡°Still, very few beyond merchants and ambassadors learn anything other than Magrith. Certainly not inquisitors in training. And the news you passed along was fresh and very valuable. I¡¯m impressed.¡±
I shrugged and took a sip of my drink. ¡°It was nothing. I enjoyed practicing my language skills and sharing some useless information gave me just that chance. What about you. You know that I am an inquisitor, and I noticed you have a ring similar to my own, does that make you one yourself.¡±
Vermont laughed, ¡°No. I don¡¯t know if I should be complimented or offended by that assumption. I belong to the Imperial Order Numismatica. We oversee the Imperial Treasury.¡±
¡°A friend mentioned the Order Numismatica to me today in the context of spying,¡± I said.
He waved the allegation aside, ¡°I get that a lot. Part of our mandate is gathering information that has to do with matters of trade. Some people just assume that means we¡¯re spies.¡±
¡°I would think that pretty much everything involves matters of trade,¡± I said.
Vermont winked and then ¡°So how do you like my party so far?¡±
¡°Until now, I spent a year living in a forest. Then was immediately shipped off to war for a couple of years. Actual civilization is all so new to me.¡±
¡°Well, if I that last conversation is any indication, you are doing really well.¡±
¡°Thank you. You have an impressive home.¡± I said.
¡°You mean an incredibly gaudy home. My great-grandfather founded our noble line after establishing a very profitable trade contract with the Southern continent and then building the city¡¯s gate hub. He built this home to make up for his lack of a distinguished clan name or genetics. Most of the family, of course, think he was compensating for something.¡±
¡°What is it with this fascination with genetics?¡± I asked. ¡°Lala was very close to tearing off my clothes and having sex with me on your front lawn when she found out I had a high affinity and a minor knack.¡±
Vermont laughed and said ¡°Lala is part of Clan Tequital. That clan has been out of favor for the last century ever since his disappearance. Of course, Chancellor Tequital could show up tomorrow on the heels of a major victory somewhere, and the entire clan would bask in his shared glory.¡±
¡°But it goes deeper than that. The empire gives a yearly stipend to every Platinum status noble depending on their bloodline and the power and standing of the members within it. Lala¡¯s grandfather had a high Nature affinity, one of her second cousins has a minor body knack, and she has an uncle who is a captain in the Army. Her status is terribly low. Her family is almost at risk of becoming golds. Having a child by someone with both a high affinity and a knack, as well as a military background. Well¡ that would advance her standing and her imperial allowance.¡±
¡°I see,¡± I said.
¡°She is a beautiful woman. Many men would be thrilled to catch her interest,¡± Vermont said.
¡°I¡¯m not that thrilled to be seen simply for my stud skills,¡± I said.
Vermont laughed, ¡°You haven¡¯t met the Order of Seers yet, have you if you are concerned with your stud skills. As a member of the Naato bloodline, if the Seers demand you have a child with someone, you have a child with that person. It doesn¡¯t matter if they are already married if you find them physically attractive or repulsive, or even if they are your own kin. You have a child, or you face sanctions, mostly loss of income, but up to and including banishment or execution.¡±
¡°So I have no choice in partners? First I get roped into becoming an inquisitor and now this. I never wanted to go decadent, but I kind of wanted to follow my own interests once I got my status.¡±
¡°It isn¡¯t that bad. You have a choice in partners, just not who you marry and who you have children with. For example, I am married to a woman from the Barilli clan ¡ª a very proud and noble line, descending from one of the Imperial Chancellors ¡ª but I find you to be quite beautiful and fascinating, and would love to spend more time with you while you are in the city.¡±
I looked at Vermont, paused for a couple of seconds and then said, ¡°Thank you for the compliment; however I enjoy women. I hope that my saying this doesn¡¯t offend you in any way as you have been very hospitable to a newcomer to the Capital.¡±
Vermont brushed off my turning him down, ¡°Of course not. Everyone has preferences, though if you want to experiment, I would ask you to keep me in mind.¡±
Changing the conversation, I asked, ¡°What do you think of my brother¡¯s chances to be elected Consul of Platinum? I know nothing of the political situation here.¡±
¡°Your brother is well known despite his age. For better or worse, he has never taken part in any real scandals, so the gossip about him is mostly prosaic. His biggest negative is his connections to the Inquisition, and he really isn¡¯t that closely connected. I would say his chances are good,¡± Vermont said.
¡°So I¡¯m one of his biggest negatives?¡±
¡°More your father. Alas Lynx, although I find you delectable, in society you aren¡¯t really all that well known. From what I hear, you spent your time on the front working as a runner and a healer, both skill are respected. And then, there is a certain something I had heard from my contacts when I had them check you out a few minutes ago. Something about you and a pillbox and a Phlogiston gun and a young woman almost single-handedly defeating the enemy advance. You should know that the military is considering awarding you a medal.¡±
I blinked, ¡°My actions as a runner have something to do with Trade?¡±
¡°Everything has to do with Trade, Lynx. Now enjoy the party. I must be a good host and mingle.¡± Vermont said.
I moved back and refilled my drink. Then wandered into a different room. This room was a grand library but interspersed among the books were bits of art. Paintings, drawings, etchings, small sculptures. Mostly I didn¡¯t pay much attention to this, but I did idly scan the spines of the books to see if anything was fascinating on the shelf.
Most of the books that I saw were in either Margrith or Cretan were about history, political theory, and economics. However, there were at least four other languages that I didn¡¯t recognize represented on the shelves. Probably written by other nations in speech foreign and mysterious on faraway continents.
I was about to leave the room and walk out onto the back veranda that overlooked an immaculately trimmed hedge maze when an image caught my eye.
Moving closer I saw the same kind of pen, ink, and watercolor drawing that I had seen in that lonely inn outside of Larkin back when I had been on my way to Devotion Valley. And hidden within the image were the words ¡°Find Safety in Strawberry Fields¡± written in English.
I moved on. I didn¡¯t want to draw too much attention to myself. Didn¡¯t want to be seen spending too much time looking at such an incriminating drawing. I purposefully spent time looking at some of the other art in the room even though I didn¡¯t care about any of it.
My heart had stopped pounding by the time I¡¯d left the room, and I was sure that nobody had seen anything that they shouldn¡¯t have.
I looked around and found my brother and sister. They were on the veranda in front of a small crowd who were listening to my brother talk.
¡°¡ The simple fact of the matter is that the only way Copper Status people can find out if they have magical affinities is if they join the military and are tested. In a way this is good. It gives the Imperial army access to the best and the brightest of the Coppers. The coppers who want to get ahead.¡±
¡°But I can¡¯t help but feel that the empire would be better off if we tested the affinities of every copper when they got their status, not just after they joined the army. What if there was a future arch mage tilling radishes, never knowing that they had the power to improve the empire, simply because they didn¡¯t want to join the army.¡±
¡°Quinlan, my opponent says testing every Copper¡¯s affinities is too expensive. That the Order of Status is busy enough just giving them their status when they become adults. I say we can¡¯t afford not to test these coppers. Our empire, if it wants to continue to grow, to continue to prosper, becomes more and more reliant on magic every year. We need more mages, and if that means changing traditions, then I say we should change tradition.¡±
I was about to leave and go somewhere else when my brother caught sight of me.
¡°Ah, I would like to introduce you all to my brother, Lynx Elm. He is a mage and just back from the fighting in Devotion Valley. Lynx, why don¡¯t you come up here and say, Hi to everyone.¡±
Moving over to where Eomi was standing I said, ¡°I really don¡¯t have anything important to say. Not like Eomi. So let me just say ¡®Hi¡¯ to everyone, and say ¡®here¡¯s to my brother.¡¯¡± I lifted my glass of whiskey and took a sip.
The mass of people who¡¯d been listening in raised their glasses in a toast to Eomi and thankfully I was out of the spotlight.
The rest of the party was a bit of a blur. Eomi introduced me to several dozen people none of whom I remembered. I got drunk. Then I healed myself sober. Then I started working on getting drunk again.
A little while after two in the morning I found myself back at the family estate. Vermont had tried to get us to stay in a couple of his guest rooms, but my brother insisted on calling for the gating service he had come to the party with. This time I did heal myself sober and then opened the curtains wide so that I would wake up with the sun.
Instead of going back to my inn, I headed over to the warehouse I was renting. My mana was still low from all of the tests I had done the day before I and I knew that I would need a lot more mana today. As I walked through the streets, my witch power whipped around in the crowd, stealing little bits of life from the people around me. Unnoticeable amounts from any one person, but as I walked through the crowded streets, the number of mana in my body built up.
Along the way, I also stopped off at a store that sold magic supplies, and I bought a liberal amount of the ordinary grade of core dust as well as some more runic ink to mix it with.
The day before I had established that a minimal amount of mana for casting the life shield spell would not block any noticeable amount of life magic, while if I used most of my affinity and I used powerful core dust, my life magic senses would be almost completely blocked.
Today, I would need to eliminate some of the variables.
After feeding and watering the cats. After changing the sand under the cat cages. I began to draw out, to the best of my ability precisely the same set of life shielding runes around each cage. I used exactly the same ink with just the same amount and grade of core dust in it. Six pens, each with nearly identical runes.
The biggest problem I had with how runic magic was done in the Empire was that there did not seem to be an empirical way to measure the quantity of power output by any given mage. Or maybe there was at the more prominent mage universities.
As a result, I couldn¡¯t just say ¡°Apply 5 Thaum of Life magic to the runes.¡± I was stuck with, ¡®I applied a small amount of mana yesterday and saw no result, and I applied a large amount of magic and saw a result.¡¯ There wasn¡¯t as far as I knew, a way to set a value to a small amount or large amount.
As a result, I had to arbitrarily give the amount of power I had used on my second cast of the life shield value of 100%. The next step would be to break down and cast fractions of this amount of power and see what happened, knowing all the while that my values were still arbitrary. I knew I should be using some sort of measuring instrument for consistency. Maybe designing and building some kind of dungeon core mana storage crystal. There just wasn¡¯t time, and frankly, I wasn¡¯t planning on publishing my results.
The shield on the first cat I tried to give 25% of the mana I had used that first cast. On the shield around the second cat, I used 40% of the mana I¡¯d used. On the third cat, I estimated around 50% of the mana I¡¯d used. On the fourth, I figured approximately 60%, the fifth 75%, and the last one 90% of the mana.
Then I performed all the tests, including trying to sense the cat with blood magic, trying to locate the cat, trying to heal the cat, using my witch sense on the cat, and swinging a living rat through the space of the shield. If I could completely sense the cat, I wrote a 100% down in my notes. If I couldn¡¯t sense the cat at all, I wrote 0%. Anywhere in the middle, I tried to estimate a percentage. Again, as far as I knew there were no ways to measure what I felt, and I couldn¡¯t rule out that my senses weren¡¯t playing tricks on me.
But in the end, I had several charts of numbers which I then graphed on an XY chart. X being the estimated power I put into the spell in percent. Y being the expected effectiveness of the spell in percentage. And looking at the chart, in almost every instance I got a curve that started doing almost nothing at 25% but by about 50% was rapidly arcing upwards. There was virtually no difference between 75% and 90% and the 100% power from the day before. On my rough drawings, using my horrible measurements, there seemed to be an inflection point at around 65%.
My shield was incredibly inefficient, and I knew I still had something to learn from the spell I had dug up in the library, but unless I had made a mistake ¡ª very likely in these crude and hurriedly performed experiments ¡ª hypothetically I would be invisible to the Empire¡¯s means of detection if I could somehow find a way to consistently pump out 65% of my power into a shield. Every day, 24 hours a day, for the rest of my life.
The Egg - A Twice Lived side story
Come around children, and listen because I have a story to tell.
Once long ago, before Strawberry Fields was even founded, and we were spread out across the continent being hunted, there was a great bird. This bird did what all birds do, and one day when it was out gathering flowers, it fell in love with a bee and magic happened. Momma bird became pregnant.
Now this was a very big bird and when the bird made its nest, out popped the first large egg, and poppa bee became extremely happy because even though the bee knew that his children would be bigger than him, he would be a father. Then momma bird gave birth to another egg, and it was round and healthy, and both bird and bee celebrated their great fortune. And finally momma bird gave birth to a third egg, and this egg was different though no less special than all the other eggs.
The third egg was born with two legs, two arms and a top hat, just like a person but all the rest of his body was the same as his two siblings, and by that I mean egg-shaped.
Momma bird was much puzzled by this, and she said ¡°Squawk,¡± because she was a bird silly and birds don¡¯t talk. And poppa bee said ¡°bzzz¡± because bees don¡¯t talk either. And this little fresh born egg looked around at his parents and said to himself, ¡°Wow! I¡¯m an egg.¡± Because, little boys and girls, the egg was a Twice-Lived just like your parents, and maybe just like you.
The egg realized that it couldn¡¯t stay in the nest with the other eggs. He realized that if he were to stay with the birds and the bees he would be no better or worse than other eggs and he might even hatch.
Now, children, this egg was not like other intelligent eggs. I know that some of the other adults have told you about Humpty Dumpty and how he fell off the wall. Well, this egg did not have All the Kings Horses nor all the Kings Men to put him back together again.
So, that night when his mother the bird was out eating flowers and his father the bee was out gathering pollen, the brave egg, climbed out of the nest and shimmied down the tree. Somewhere in this whole world, there must be others like him.
The egg traveled north, out of the vast forest, and onto a road. There he saw people working in fields and riding on horses, and the egg being brave and remembering what it was like to have once been a human walked up to every one of these people and said: ¡°Are you like me?¡± And they said nothing because they could not speak the language of the Twice-Lived from where he used to live on Earth and Eggs, which if you must know for this egg was English.
Day after day, the egg traveled north, and day after day, person after person, nobody answered him when he said: ¡°Are you like me?¡±
Now, this egg was unlucky for many reasons. Not only was he an egg; and I am sure if you ask around people will tell you that being an egg is not the best way to travel. But this egg had been born in the Empire.
Word got around that there was a walking talking egg traveling north, and the Emperor said: ¡°I must have this Egg for he will make a great omelet.¡± But the Inquisitors said, ¡°An egg that can talk, this must be a Twice-Lived, we must scramble it before it spoils and makes all the empire smell like sulfur.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
The first sign of danger the egg saw was when it walked down a road, and a team of chefs stood searching through the bushes. The egg knew they were chefs because they wore white aprons and carried mixing bowls and wooden spoons.
Realizing the danger, the egg dashed off the road on its stubby little feet and ran into the bushes. There he found a thrush nest. Realizing that it was either the thrush or him, the egg drew a smiley face on a thrush egg and rolled that egg out into the road.
The chefs went mad with greed. They saw the thrush egg with the smiley face and thinking that they had finally caught captured the egg that the Emperor wanted to eat so badly, they began to hit each other with spoons and mixing bowls and spatulas until they were all dead.
By then the egg was long past the chefs, and he continued to travel North looking for someone just like him.
Precisely one hundred miles past where he had run into the chef, the egg saw another group on the road. These people were dressed in scary uniforms, and they held knives and saws and chains and hot coals. Why they were holding hot coals in their hands, nobody knows, but it must have hurt.
The egg saw these men on the road and trembled in fear. But he was a good egg. A smart egg. And so he got off the road as quick as can be. On very tiny egg feet. On very tiny egg toes. The egg crept closer to the scary men who were the Empire¡¯s Inquisition.
But being a talented egg, he could throw his voice. It was a trick he had learned in his everyday life as a Dentist. Chidden, back on earth, a Dentist is someone whose job it is to throw their voice. You can ask any of the other adults if I am wrong. And so when he was close enough to the Inquisitors, the egg threw is voice and said: ¡°Look an egg.¡± And since English was the only language he knew, except a little Mandarin, and some Esperanto, and of course hexadecimal which everyone back home speaks over tea.
When the Inquisitors heard this coming from their group, the realized that one of their own was a Twice-Lived and tortured him to death right there on the street. Then the Egg threw his voice again, and the inquisitors tortured the next inquisitor. And so on, and so on, until there was only one inquisitor left standing. That was when the egg threw his voice again, and the final inquisitor realized that he himself was the Twice-Lived and there was only one thing he could do, and that was to torture himself to death.
When the last inquisitor had cut off his own fingers, and stuck burning coals under his own testicles, and shoved spikes into his own shoulders, the egg continued happily down the road.
Exactly one hundred miles after he ran into the inquisition the egg saw horrible figures dressed in black cloaks that the wind never touched. There were twelve of them standing in the road. These were the fearsome Imperial chancellors who had come to track down the egg for their own nefarious purposes.
But the egg was undaunted. These horrible vampires were so busy arguing and fighting with each other. So busy fighting that even though they were here to capture an incredible prize ¡ª Something so valuable, so incredibly important, so impressive ¡ª a walking egg with arms and a top hat, who knew what powers it could bring.
They were so busy arguing and fighting with each other, that the egg walked right between their legs and they didn¡¯t even notice.
So the egg continued north, and the weather turned cold and lonely, and finally, the egg came to the sea. And on the beach just out of sea were animals. The egg went up to the first animal and said ¡°Hello?¡± And the animal said ¡°arf.¡± and so the egg went up to the next animal and said ¡°Hello?¡± And the animal said ¡°arf.¡±
Despairing ever of finding someone to talk to and he was thinking about ending it all and poaching himself in the sea, the egg walked up to the next animal and said ¡°Hello?¡±
And the animal said ¡°Hello!¡±
So the egg introduced himself and said, ¡°I am the Egg Man.¡±
And the animal said, ¡°I am the Walrus.¡±
And together they said ¡°Goo goo g'' joob¡±
The End
No chapter this week and maybe not next week.
Sorry, there won''t be a chapter this week and there probably won''t be one next week either. Medical reasons, but nothing serious.
Also, I wanted to alert you that at some point in the next few chapters I will stop posting. I will continue writing (not this week, maybe not next week) but I won''t post. The reason for this is that we are in the home stretch for book 1 and I sort of want to post the last major movement, when things start happening, as one continuous narrative, rather than chapter by chapter with cliffhangers. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Still not a chapter, but a map
Still not 100% health wise. Detoxing after going off a medication I''ve been on for 5 years is not a fun experience, the brain zaps are an especially nasty side effect, and the whole process is fucking with my mood.
In the interest of keeping people updated, I have just started to write again and will use this chapter to periodically indicate how far into what I''m currently working on.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Chapter - 40
5743 words
Current Chapter - 41
1968 words
For now, here is a map of the city of Larkin since my old mock-up was so unloved.
Updates...
Sorry about my lack of updates. I spent a month and a half feeling miserable in January and February but I managed to do some writing (I wrote a 15,000 word next chapter and another 5000 word chapter following that. But I will admit I wasn¡¯t happy with either of them. So I started rewriting the intro chapters while I dealt with the writers block.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
unfortunately today I discovered that I have a detached retina in my other eye. I¡¯m currently in the hospital waiting room and will have emergency surgery later this afternoon.
Not sure when I will be able to write again as I¡¯ll probably spend the next few weeks blind.
Chapter 40 - An Offer
The rain was a grey tower reaching into the clouds, and I walked through this bleak edifice of rainwater and chill. Either the fall was unseasonal, or the north winds coming off the mountains and oceans had brought the excruciating weather. I hadn¡¯t been in the city long enough to know learn what was regular about the weather. For all I knew, this could have been some sort of semi-regular Magritham El Ni?o.
Only the heartiest of rickshaw drives were out in the streets. Those who were were bundled up and sheltering under overhangs against the weather. Shivering where I stood in clothing entirely unsuitable for the rain. I waved a driver over, and when he reluctantly came away from her shelter, I asked the driver to take me somewhere where I could buy something warmer to wear. I was almost tempted to stay in the inn.
As my driver ran through the streets, I shivered against the mid-fall cold. I couldn¡¯t imagine what it must be like for the driver having stand waiting around for hours hoping to give someone a lift in this downpour. At least there wasn¡¯t snow.
The rickshaw driver pulled up beside the tailor shop, and I paid her quickly giving her a better tip than I usually would have. I was tempted to offer a heal just in case she¡¯d caught pneumonia or a cold, but those were things anyone with a minor healing affinity could fix, and so I decided against it. I was just thankful that she¡¯d come out to work in this weather and saved me a miserable walk in nothing but the flimsy linens I¡¯d been wearing in the, until today, warm weather.
I went into the store, and a little while later I came out again wearing a heavy leather and wool jacket and a waxed cotton hat to keep off the rain. Pulling these garments tight around myself I began to walk toward the nearest merchant gate, which thankfully, was only a short distance away. From there I could easily get transported across town to the library.
Midway to my destination, I felt something. The feeling was a sensation like a tickling on the back of the nerves in the place where my neck met my head. When I turned, however, nobody and nothing was there. It was a feeling I¡¯d had before. Outside of Larking. In the forests with Wilmette. Funny, I¡¯d never felt it when I had been on the battlefields or in the headquarters in Devotion Valley.
Those times the feeling discpeered almost as soon as they¡¯d come, and felt far weaker. This time the sensation went on and on. A tactile experience like someone was fingering my spine that only disappeared when I stepped into the gathering place that was the center terminal between the merchant gates. When I emerged from the gate complex, the feeling started up once again and followed me across town over the easy walk to the library. Then stopped abruptly once more when I crossed the threshold into the library.
I didn¡¯t know what the sensation that I was feeling was ¡ª I had my suspicions ¡ª but as long as I wasn¡¯t being watched in the library or in the warehouse I¡¯d rented I could endure for now.
Right now, this visit to the empire¡¯s collection of public books was important for everything that was coming up. Now that I had a method of hiding myself from the blood magic of the empire, I needed to focus on a second more impoctant aspect of magic. Getting out of this city, no that wasn¡¯t right¡ getting out of this empire, at a moment¡¯s notice.
Taking the elevator to the top floor of the library I honed like a hummingbird onto red plastic flowers to find the bookshelves devoted to space magic. It was critical that learn how to use at least the very basics of this affinity; at the very least how to open a gate.
Fortunately, this information was not kept secret, and there was a multitude of books on the subject. Space affinity was uncommon but not unexpected. It was one of those subjects that the empire encourage its citizens to study. All the better to move people, goods, and armies to the furthest corners of this nation. As a result after about a half an hour I was sitting at a table with a small pile of books, taking notes.
There were dozens of books about to learn how to use space affinity. The essential guides were on the silver level, and in-depth texts and peer-reviewed papers on the gold floor. I spent the rest of a quiet afternoon taking notes.
A few hours later, the only thing left to try what I¡¯d spent the last few hours learning. I couldn¡¯t do this in the library; there was bound to be surveillance and wards against space magic. For all, I knew there was a secret cabal of librarians out to discover which books were being read and report it to the Empire. The idea seemed ridiculous, but then I remembered that was exactly what a small part of the Patriot Act did back on Earth.
Paranoia wasn¡¯t entirely out of bounds. The library had a way to track the books readers tried to sneak out of the building. They also monitored the status of people going to their rank-appropriate floors. It wasn¡¯t out of bounds that the staff tracked what magic was used in the building. There were times when neuroticism was a virtue. Besides, I had rented an entire warehouse that I¡¯d already warded for privacy and experimentation.
It was the early evening when I left the building. The storm had slowed, and the weather had warmed up. The wind, however, was shooting the rain like pellets. My coat had drip dried hanging over a chair during the day. Wrapped up tightly I walked through the streets to the Merchant Gate that night.
From the perspective of someone who¡¯d grown up on Earth, I had a bias when I thought about architecture and city planning. If someone had told me that I would someday live again in a ¡°medieval style¡± kingdom, I would have imagined chamber pots being thrown into the streets, rats fighting with pigs in the middle of the road, and narrow claustrophobic streets.
Magic, however, was used everywhere instead of technology. Mages had built the sewers, and spells kept the streets clean. Conjuration brought fresh water to stores and homes. The lights which lit the streets were powered by mana. There were civil mages who¡¯d had helped build the roads, walls, parks, and houses throughout the city.
It helped that the city was located near the mountains. A plentiful supply of marble, stone, and metals had been incorporated into the building. Despite the prohibition on Twice-Lived, there were scattered buildings that included the concrete, the prefab shapes, and the glass of modern and even post-modern architecture. It was clear that at least one of local architects had been inspired by the work of Frank Lloyd Wright, Mies Van Der Rohe, and maybe even Frank Gehry or Renzo Piano.
It took me nearly an hour to wander through the Magrithiam weather and to the warehouse I was renting. This time I didn¡¯t bother with a rickshaw. That feeling I had earlier in the day ¡ª a feeling like someone was tickling my cerebellum with a feather ¡ª had come back. I would have to figure out a way toward myself as I moved. Add one more thing to my list of projects.
Back inside the warded warehouse space, I took out the dungeon core with the space affinity, balanced it in my hand, and let it roll around my palm. I¡¯d never used a core to cast a spell before. I wasn¡¯t sure of the process. In retrospect, it was something I probably should have looked up this afternoon.
From the core, I could sense of depth and distance. That same feeling I¡¯d had when I¡¯d first held the soul of a dungeon in my hand a couple days ago.
My notebook was full of runes and processes for casting a gate spell, and if this were a regular situation, the process would be straightforward. I had a lot of practice with rune magic. Using a dungeon core to focus the spell was another matter altogether.
It was at that point where I realized that I was skipping an entire step. My first step should be checking to see if I had any affinity with space magic. Rereading my notes, I attempted to cast a simple gate spell.
Something short, only to the other side of the room. Concentrating. I felt the power well up inside of myself and thought about the runes I wanted to form. A rush of mana pushing out of my body and I saw runes appear in the air. To my surprised a hole two feet diameter formed in the firmament of the universe. Through this hole, I saw a close-up view of the other side of the warehouse.
This was the most basic use of space magic. Not a gate, but a viewing hole. Objects would not be able to move through the space in front of me. Were I to stand on the other side of it there would be nothing visible. Just put this was space magic used as a viewport to somewhere else. A magical spying peek-hole.
While, I could see through the hole, but I could hear nothing. That wasn¡¯t that big of a deal. If I¡¯d included different runes I could have incorporated more data, not just sight, but sound, and with more specialized runes and other affinities also thrown into the mix, touch, temperature, smell, and taste.
There was even a branch of body magic that I¡¯d read about, that tried to mimic the more esoteric senses¡ echolocation, lateral lines, mana sight and the like. I¡¯d learned that other affinities beyond the body affinity could also be incorporated into the spell, for example, water dousing with the water element affinity, illusions with light affinity and of course mind magic.
There were some limitations to this technique. I was focusing on an area using the line of sight. This was probably the most accessible means of targeting this kind of spying. For any other distance, I needed a way to target a specific location. From what I had read there were three means of doing this kind of targeting.
The first means of targeting involved simply mentally shoving the hole in space in the direction that I wanted it to go. As long as poured mana through my runic construct I could move the aperture of the spell along any X-Y-Z axis. As long as I had the desire and mana, I could, in theory, have sent this view in any 3-dimensional direction; in floating through the air, up into outer-space, or even down deep into the earth.
The second method of targeting was blood magic. Someone with life affinity and space affinity could target a blood signature and open up a view hole right on top of the location of that blood source. That person could then fine tune the view along that same X-Y-Z axis.
The most common use of this technique was the creation of an object which was enchanted to lock onto a person¡¯s blood signature and which incorporate the space magic runes. This object could be used to spy on someone as long as the mana kept being poured in.
Creating this kind of object was not a natural process though. The enchantment required either a single person with Space Affinity, Life Affinity, and Arcane Affinity. Or up to four people, the first with Life Affinity to cast the blood magic, the second with Space Affinity to cast the targeting magic, the third with Arcane Magic to create the enchanted item, and a fourth person with the Ritual Magic affinity to link all these people together.
The final method of targeting Space Magic involved using Arcane Magic. One of the ongoing projects that the Empire funded ¡ª part of the responsibilities of the House of Urges ¡ª was having the empire¡¯s more talented Arcane Affinity mages lay out a grid of space magic throughout the Empire. If a Space Affinity Mage knew the runes corresponding to one of these beacons, they could include that sequence of runes in the spell they¡¯d formed, and the portal would open up on that exact grid location.
When I¡¯d been in the library, I¡¯d written down five of these grid locations. I now had several runic locations. The first was for my the family estates in Magrithiam. Another site about fifteen miles outside of the city. Two more spots I''d chosen were in the park of Larkin, and the home I''d grown up in. And then for luck, I''d picked a random location clear across the other side of the empire, and an arbitrary place on another continent ¡ª in a nation that was known for being a safe harbor for Twice-Lived.
With this information, with access to space magic, I could escape the Empire at any time.
Given that I had at least a little bit of space magic, my next step was to determine just how much of the genetic lottery I¡¯d won.
My first step was to extinguished the hole I dug through the strings of the universe. This time, when I recast the runes, I used the arcane beacon for a spot near my families home here in Magrith. A flood of mana exited my body, and I saw runes form in front of me, and a viewing circle opened up again. Now I could look around at everything that was happening on the road a block away from the gate where my brother and sister lived.
For a few moments, I watched the street. It was a much more wealthy section of town, and there were mage lights which lit up the roads even through the rain. There weren¡¯t very many people out. I let the spell go and the hole I was looking through closed up. This time, when I cast the Space Magic spell, the location I¡¯d selected was just outside of town. Again the viewing window opened up, and I was now looking at a grove of trees that were swaying and seemed to creak and almost break, I saw rolling farmland and the flickering light of a distant farm.
Recasting the spell for the fourth time I targeted the city of Larkin and¡ nothing. No space rippled and opened up with a view of Larkin. This wasn¡¯t surprising. I hadn¡¯t expected to have any affinity in space magic in the first place.
Flipping through my notes, I found the pages I¡¯d copied about the runes that would let me create an actual gateway rather than just an insubstantial viewing hole that I could look through. After rereading what I¡¯d written, I targeted the part of the room right behind me and opened an actual gate. One of the steps was to imagine the shape of the opening in space that I wanted, and I chose simple one was eight feet high and rectangular.
The runes shaped in front of me, and I felt a drain on my mana. A nine foot tall by foot wide shortcut enfolded in front of me. I was now looking at the wall and a caged cat. The spell worked.
Reaching over, I picked up a pen and threw it through the hole I¡¯d made. The pen made an arc as it flew through the gate and bounced off the far wall. Now the risky part. Holding my breath for the next test, I stepped through the hole and found myself about twenty feet away from where I¡¯d just been, in front of a wall, and an angry cat in a cage.
I turned around and walked over to pick up my pen. This version of the spell was single-directional. That meant that from one side I could look travel through the gate and see the other side of the room, from the other side there wasn¡¯t even a ripple in space.
Even though I was standing on this side of the gate and could see nothing except an angry cat and the brick wall of the warehouse, that I¡¯d been feeling all day, the sensation of having the top of my spine tickled began again.
Concentrating on keeping the gate open I walked the distance back to where I¡¯d come from. It was an odd sensation seeing a shape that existed only in two dimensions form within three-dimensional space. Depending on the angle of where I walked, width and height appeared with no trace of depth. Depending on how visible the gate became as I walked across the room,
Standing beside the gate, I¡¯d made I tossed a pen at the edge and watched that pen as it hit that hole in space¡¯s edge like a pool ball and continue onward along a slightly altered trajectory through the hole. I¡¯d been scared that the sides were razor sharp. A blade, however, needed the barest minimum of thickness ¡ª even if that thickness just a few molecules ¡ª and this gate had hight and width, but no depth at all. The entrance was a non-hypothetical two-dimensional plane.
I let the gate close. Hopefully opening a gate outside of town would be every bit as straight forward as opening the gate across the room. I concentrated for a second then I began to will the runes for the spacial hole into existence. The hole in space flickered for just a moment, and then I was looking through a doorway into a field outside of town.
I held the entrance to another place open for just another second and then let it close. The mana drain and fatigue were incredible. Opening the gate across the room took a chunk of my mana, but it was doable. But opening a gateway to a location only a dozen or so miles away was exhausting. I wouldn¡¯t have been able to keep that door open more than a few minutes and doing so would have completely drained my mana.
I took a deep breath ¡ª mostly from the exhaustion of mana use ¡ª but I realized that I still had a lot to do, I yet hadn¡¯t even gotten to the tricky part.
Walking over to the table where I had left the space affinity core, I picked it up and held it in my hands. It might have been my imagination, but the pseudo-living gemstone that was touching seemed to throb with power.
The first step was to check to see if merely holding the core would give me the ability to cast the spell. Trying once again, I attempted to open a viewing portal to Larking¡ and nothing happened.
The next step was to try to use the orb to cast the spell. Somehow. I focused on the sphere in my hand and evoked space magic runes. Nothing happened again.
Putting the orb back in the pouch and I decided to call it a day. There was something I was missing. Something so fundamental that I probably wouldn¡¯t be able to resolve it through guesswork and luck.
It was early evening when I stepped out into the streets and wandered back towards my room at the inn. It was well after midnight. In this part of the city, the roads were not lit. But the light from bars and taverns, some of which stayed open all night, cast light out into the street.
As I walked through that feeling began to retake hold. A creepy feeling that followed me in my steps and lingers in my wake. I¡¯d only noticed it in the warehouse when I stepped onto the other side of the gate I¡¯d made. Out here in the streets, however, it was as strong as ever.
With what I¡¯d learned today I could have gated back to the room I was renting in the inn. Except that a deep sense of paranoia and self-preservation was grown larger every day. The fewer visible uses of my powers the better.
As a result, I walked and walked through the wet and the dark, ignoring a tantalizingly familiar feeling; a feeling that pricked at my senses and wouldn¡¯t let up.
The restaurant in the inn was closed, but the bar was still open. There was a trio of musician that was keeping the room enraptured. One was playing a moody, sad song on some sort of brass and reed instrument that I couldn¡¯t recognize, another was strumming a guitar-like instrument, while the last was singing elven torch songs in Cretan. The sound was vaguely reminiscent of a Nina Simone crossed with an Edith Piaf. The drunks who were still conscious enough to pay attention were engrossed to every note. The melody must have been beautiful or at least distracting, but I barely noticed a saccharine chord the three women sang.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
I hadn¡¯t been able to connect my mana to the dungeon core. Nor had I been able to access any of the plentiful affinity it supposedly held. A space core of this big should as far as I knew, be able to let me open gates as far away as the moon. Well maybe that was hyperbole, and it wasn¡¯t as if I had any interest in going to any of the planet¡¯s moons. Today. Pulling a Neil Armstrong would be cool. The core should, however, have the power to open up gates large enough to move armies.
And that idea made me think.
Somehow, through some astronomically improbable miracle, Chancellor Tequital the Pyromancer hadn¡¯t unleashed the scope of the space core in his possession. Why hadn¡¯t he moved the armies of Argran behind the imperial lines and attacked the empire¡¯s detachment from the rear? During the entire time I¡¯d been stationed in the valley, Tequital had only used the space core once, visibly. Just once. And that was merely to escape from the trap Lord General Aram Heron Sequoia had laid for his forces.
The Pyromancer could have used that core to bring in more troops, attack the Empire¡¯s army from the rear and flanks. At the very least Tequital could have brought in supplies to keep his troops well fed and well equipped. As far as I could tell none of that had happened. The armies of Argran that I¡¯d seen was at the very edge of desperation. Troops wearing rags and eating sawdust and rat. Swords and equipment in desperate need of repair. An army of the very young and very old, with soldiers in the prime of their fighting lives either missing or killed off.
I distinctly remembered that Vermont had said that people in Clan Tequital ¡ª the direct lineage of Chancellor Tequital just as I was part of clan Naato ¡ª were out of favor. Not banished, not pariahs, only out of favor. Yet he had clearly been a significant part of the enemy¡¯s army. Then there was the Lord General herself. Why hadn¡¯t she been more aggressive during the battles while I was there? Years had passed with no real forward progression.
Come to think of it¡ the behavior of the entire empire was suspect. From my readings of history, it wasn¡¯t as if our beloved Emperor was shy about throwing away the lives of her citizens during times of war. Yet where were all of the unnecessary charges directly into the enemy lines. From the documentary movies I¡¯d watched about the first world war I¡¯d seen in High School, I would have expected wave after wave of Imptrial troops being thrown at the Argran forces. Where were the casual orders for soldiers to run directly into the meat grinder?
Despite all of the impressive exploding fireballs from the presumed traitor Tequital, the imperial army¡ our army¡ had been well rested and well equiped when we¡¯d swept through the enemy ranks. Unlike the Argran army which had been worn down to using its oldest and youngest citizens.
Come to think of it. The identity of the Pyromancer had always been anonymous. Nobody referred to him as ¡°that traitor councilor Tequital,¡± just as ¡°The Pyromancer.¡±
I stood up and walked over to the window. A quick examination showed wards around the edge of the window frame. I had improved these on the first day I¡¯d move into this inn. It was night time now. In my room, for the first time since I¡¯d left the warehouse, that odd pressure that had been following was gone. The window was sealed shut. Outside the moon hung in a cloudless sky shining a light down onto the city.
Could Tequital have been working for the empire as a fifth column?
Could his apparent treachery, could his entire appearance of being the side of the enemy against Imperial troops, have been a ruse? Had he joined the enemy forces only to covertly wear down an entrenched enemy force? But he¡¯d been The Pyromancer. He¡¯d been that nameless bastard that all of us soldiers had all cursed almost every day. Could he have been there to present the empire with an enemy to rally against, and a force to justify the use and expansion of the military? If he was on the side of the realm, how many of imperial soldiers had he killed? Hell, Tequital had killed Red Panda¡¯s brother Terrald.
This was some incredibly paranoid thinking. Tin foil hat thinking. The only certainty I had was that I was undoubtedly missing a lot of information. The information I didn¡¯t want to know, except that if someone found out, I¡¯d killed Tequital¡
Just walking around the stuff I¡¯d looted off his body was enough to send shivers of paranoia across my thoughts. I was glad I hadn¡¯t mentioned that I¡¯d killed the ex-Imperial Chancellor.
My dreams that night were filled with looming figures and shadows that vanished in the anxious wakefulness of dawn. Putting aside just one more thing that would kill me if anyone found out, my goal for the morning was to discover how to use the affinities of a dungeon core to cast spells.
As soon as I stepped outside of my room and back into the inn, that feel across my brain returned. Performing an experiment, I stepped back into my room and felt the sensation go away. When I stepped into the hallway again, the feeling returned. Each time I entered my room, the experience went away. Every time I left the room, that awareness started up again. The wards were definitely keeping whatever it was at bay.
By now I was pretty sure that some part of my nervous system was alerting me that I being watched from afar. The more important question was by whom? And then the even more critical corollary; since the wards I¡¯d cast around the warehouse and inn were effective, was there a way to create a portable set of wards to carry around with me?
The rain from the day before had started up again. Streams of water ran through the streets and downhill toward sewer grates. The roar of rushing water coming from under the streets. The pavement was slippery but manageable. When I asked, the innkeeper summon a rickshaw to take me to the merchant gate.
On a side street in front of the library, there was a massive pool of water where the sewer was backed up. A group of workers and an earth mage were ripping up part of the courtyard, trying to fix the blockage. Standing under an overhang, I watched the construction for a while. Every once in a while one of them would kneel and touch their head to the foot underwater ground as they paid reverence to the Emperor after having accidentally looked up.
I quickly made my way across the courtyard and into the library and then up to the floor where I was spending so much time. Like usual a few other people were wandering through the shelves. I ignored them. But the rain had kept most of the other patrons and bibliophiles away, so there were far fewer people than I¡¯d seen on
It wasn¡¯t hard to find the section of the library detailing dungeon cores. This section was more substantial than all of the collections on affinities put together. Among books about the best way to grind the cores up, the optimal ways to find dungeons in the wild, theory on growing techniques, essays on monster evolutions, bestiaries based on core affinities, I finally found a small collection of books that were dedicated to the process of casting spells through a captured core.
One of the books in this section was unusually exhaustive. It said that a dungeon core was a kind of crystal growth that processed, filtered, and grew mana. As the dungeon''s core aged, it would add layer and layers to its exterior while purifying it''s interior giving it hardness. To call the living heart of a dungeon, a gemstone was a mistake. Gemstones were formed through geological activities. A dungeon core was more like a pearl. According to the theory in the book, a core formed around a mana impurity in an area, and it grew by adding layer after layer of purified solid mana to its surface.
Accessing the magic of a core, according to this book, was a lot like how I remembered public-private cryptography was like back on Earth. The dungeon infused its mana with a lock that could only be opened by its master key. Every monster in a dungeon had a genetically copy of this lock in their biology that that monster could use to send messages back to the core. Every monster also had their own individual mental set of lock and key, which the dungeon also kept track of.
To use the core someone needed to figure out the core¡¯s private key. Anybody who knew this key could control the dungeon. If it was an active dungeon, the person who dominated this asymmetric sequence of runes was called the dungeon master.
Any mage wanting to power a spell with the core needed to incorporate the private key in their runic spellcraft. All magic which included this sequence had access to use all of the dungeon¡¯s powers. If it was an active dungeon, this covered the labyrinthine power of creation. There was an entire branch of arcane magic which studied the interaction between core and creation. There was a rumor about knack that could naturally control and interface with dungeons. True dungeon masters.
The text I was reading did not go into detail about controlling a core though it did reference a subsequent edition by the same author. The book did outline the series of arcane magic spells that I would have to use to divine the specific private key of the core. Luckily, unlike computerized cryptography, the public and private keys that dungeons used were not hundreds or even thousands of bytes long. Even the most elder dungeon only used at most a score of runes.
Copying out the sequence of runes that I could use to determine the master key of the core was easy. When I was done, I decided to call it a day. It was still early. I¡¯d slept in, but despite the book I¡¯d been reading speaking of advanced subject matters, hadn¡¯t been all that difficult to decipher.
On the way out of the library, someone called out ¡°Lynx Elm. It is amusing that our paths should cross.¡±
Turning, I saw Vermont walking briskly toward me. Even in the continuing wind, rain, and cold he was dry. Raindrops seemed to think about falling on him and decide that this was a bad idea. Vermont¡¯s clothing didn¡¯t seem to billow in the breeze. Out of curiosity, I looked at him with my mage sight. Some sort of enchanting seeped into his clothing and a barrier somehow constructed from space magic floated just above his head.
Vermont may have been protected from the wind and the rain, but I was not, and so I waited for him to join me under the library stoa. It did not take him very long to walk over.
¡°Hello, Lynx Elm.¡± I said, ¡°It is my pleasure seeing you again. What brings you to this institution of knowledge today?¡±
¡°Just brushing up on healing spells,¡± I replied evasively.
¡°A worthwhile pursuit. It is a shame that your father has fitted you into the role of an Inquisitor and not part of the Order of the Status, Delvers or Urges. Your skills would seem to be far more beneficial there.¡±
¡°My Father¡¯s actions and thoughts are his own,¡± I said. Then thinking a moment about the queasy feeling which had been following me recently, I said, ¡°This will sound paranoid and for that, I apologize, however, this is a subject of some concern to me. Have you been spying on me? I have sensed something trailing behind me over the last few days. And you are who you are.¡±
Vermont thought about that question for a moment, ¡°While I have had someone investigate you, my people would not do this in such in a way that you wouldn¡¯t notice. Would you like me to see if I can determine if you are being watched? Arcane counter-intelligence magic is something of a specialty.¡±
I didn¡¯t have to think about it for very long. ¡°Yes please,¡± I said.
Opening my vision to my mage sight, I saw rune after rune of arcane magic rollout of Vermont. I hadn¡¯t seen this kind of spell casting before, and I found it fascinating. Most of the spells I used were rather simple and straightforward. The sort of thing you which happens when your only tutors are books and a hillbilly in the woods. If I wrote arcane sentences, Vermont was constructing a short story.
A grid of energy, glowing purple, black, grey, opalescent white and gold, expanded through area centering around Vermont. And when I say a grid, I mean a mathematically perfect three-dimensional lattice of lines visible only by mage sight. Pulses of energy ran through this framework, moving outwards from Vermont. When the white, black and purple vibrations of magic reached an invisible area in space ¡ª an area shaped almost exactly like the viewing portals of space magic I¡¯d been creating in my warehouse ¡ª these pulses stuck, like leaches to a wound, forming a surface that was almost visible to the naked eye.
Then the spell that Vermont was casting changed. New magic began running along the runic grid that Vermont had established. Energy, like swarms of angry piranha, chewed at someone¡¯s eavesdropping spell. No bite was large in itself. No single nibble destroyed the magic that had been following me for the past few days. But as hundreds of frenzied runes devoured the spying magic, I began to feel a sense of calm settle over my nerves for the first time in days. Then with a burst, the feeling of being watched was gone.
Vermont looked at me, ¡°Someone most definitely is interested in you. That was space magic, mixed with blood magic and mind magic. They had a vision portal based on blood magic set to follow you and pick up surface thoughts and emotions. I could not determine who had cast the spell. Have you angered anyone powerful recently? Or do you have a jealous lover perhaps?¡±
I considered what I¡¯d been researching yesterday and realized that the feeling of being watched had started before this. ¡°As far as I know only space mage I have ever been near was Termass and About Town Transport,¡± I said cautiously, ¡°neither seemed to be interested in me. Is there any way to block that spell?¡± I asked.
¡°It depends on how accomplished an arcane mage you have it in you to become. Plus it would take a lot for training¡± Vermont said.
¡°I have a decent amount of arcane affinity, and I already know a little bit about wards,¡± I replied.
¡°Really? Aren¡¯t you full of surprises? If that is the case, then I can recommend some books that cover the basics. Bear in mind that many of the Imperial Orders within the empire keep their own secrets. For example, I cannot teach you the spells I just used. And of course, you can¡¯t learn everything from books, sometimes you need an instructor. Bide for a moment.¡± Vermont¡¯s eyes glazed over for a moment and then he said: ¡°I have alerted a bookseller I use of your interest, and she will pull something relevant.¡±
¡°Lynx Elm, I cannot guarantee that whoever was watching you will not continue to watch you after I leave. While I¡¯ve closed their portal, there is nothing to stop whoever constructed it to rebuild it. That someone has expended the energy to do this makes me think that whoever they are, they will be persistent. I advise caution.¡±
¡°I will keep that in mind. And I apologize for thinking that you are the person surveilling me. The constant feeling of being watched has been getting on my nerves.¡± I said.
¡°Think nothing of it.¡± Vermont said, ¡°Now that we are in private, however, if you would like to talk about this and other weighty subjects, then I insist that we sit down and discuss things over some tea. Besides I have something to ask of you. Come with me. There is a rather exquisite establishment nearby that I enjoy.¡±
We walked through the streets. Vermont, leading the way, remained impervious to the downpour which pummeled the earth from the heavens. I, of course, got soaked by the vicious weather and pretended that I did not feel like a drowned kitten.
We made our way to a small out of the way shop on a side street. The interior was decorated with dark and light woods and lots of glass. Elaborate plants were growing in a way that gave each table a sense of privacy. And once we sat down at the table, I felt the sticky sense of being watched disappear once again.
Vermont led me back to a private room in the back, and we both sat down. In short order a woman came in, and Vermont said, ¡°Stella bring us my usual.¡± Then he looked at me, ¡°I hope you do not mind that I ordered.¡±
I shook my head, ¡°Thank you. I know a little bit about local herbalism and medicinal teas, but a place like this serves a different need than the tonics I¡¯ve used to reduce fevers and taste like month old feet.¡±
It was at that moment that the serving woman knocked on the door to the private room we were in and then discreetly came in, placing a tray with porcelain pot, along with an assortment of smaller dishes, and two cups, on the table.
¡°That is to be expected. The beverages here are dedicated to pleasure rather than health. For instance, this tea is a mixture of dungeon Lloren leaves and dried Saachi leaves only found on the southern continent. The Saachi leaves are grown on a volcanic mountain by a group of cloistered virgins who devote their entire lives towards the cultivation of this specific plant. Stella, the proprietor of this establishment, has a superb water magic affinity and summons the purest water from the planes of the elementals. The leaves are then seeped for exactly seven minutes and thirty-four seconds. Not one second more, not one second less,¡± said Vermont.
¡°I prefer to drink it without adding anything,¡± he continued as he poured out two cups. ¡°However, Stella has kindly provided us with, sugar, honey, lemon, milk, bourbon, laudanum, and cold water to add according to your preference.¡±
I didn¡¯t add anything and took a sip. The aroma wasn¡¯t bitter or sweet, but it had a taste like an angel spanking a demon. Sexy paddle spankings. Something that even some of the better oolong teas I¡¯d tried back on earth couldn¡¯t compare with. The flavor tickled my palette like nothing I¡¯d tasted on any of the worlds I¡¯d been too.
¡°This is wonderful,¡± I said.
¡°A pleasurable beverage among friends is itself one of life¡¯s great pleasures,¡± Vermont said.
¡°So why did you look me up? I find it hard to believe that you simply ran into me. Especially given that I have sensed someone watching me for the last few days.¡± I asked.
¡°In that you are correct. Tell me, Lynx Elm, what do you truly what do you think of the Inquisition? Are you happy with a future hunting down and using the Twice-Lived.¡± Vermont asked.
¡°Honestly?¡± This was about as far away from what I had thought he was going to ask as it was possible to go.
¡°While I do believe that honesty itself is an overrated virtue, in this situation, yes Lynx Elm, I would appreciate your candor.¡± He said, then he paused before speaking again, ¡°the tables inside this establishment are warded by the very best arcane mages in the empire. The Emperor herself would not be able to listen in to a conversation here. She has tried.¡±
¡°Then, if you must know. I don¡¯t like the idea. Not that I have much choice. I have to admit that I used to dream that when I got my status, I would tell my father to suck it. That I would tell him that I was going to one of the colleges to try and find myself. Or maybe try to join one of the other Imperial Orders simply to spite him.¡±
¡°Unfortunately Lynx Elm, I suspect that once you get your status, you will find out that many avenues are simply closed to you. For many reasons ¡ª the least of which is your father ¡ª the Inquisition is where you will end up.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t I have any choice in the matter,¡± I asked.
¡°We all have choices, some of us just have fewer than others. The instant you swore the oaths which made you a Squire Lieutenant many of your futures closed.¡±
I sighed and took a sip of tea.
¡°And yet, you do have an alternative,¡± Vermont said.
¡°What?¡±
¡°Did I not mention that I belong to the Order of Numismatica when we first met? Well as you know our order likes to keep an ear out for things that have to do with trade. Members of our order like to keep track of information.¡±
¡°What does that have to do with anything?¡± I asked.
¡°Lynx, I was coming to that. Most of our Imperial orders require a strict monogamy. For example, once in the Inquisition will only ever be an Inquisitor. If you join the Assessors, your work will be with statuses for the remainder of your days.
¡°The only exception to this is the Order Numismatica. Many of our people are members of other orders. Outwardly they seem to be Delvers, Assessor, Inquisitors, Politicians, Academics, Sailors, whatever. But in reality, they serve the empire through Numismatica. Of course this is a touchy subject in other groups, so of course, most of my Order doesn¡¯t mention this openly. They serve the Empire, however, as a crucial part of Numismatica.¡±
¡°You¡ you want me to become your asset,¡± I said
¡°Well yes,¡± Vermont said looking abashed. ¡°Becoming a member of the Numismatica Order would supersede your position in the Inquisition. We have ways of removing your oaths to the Inquisition while making them seem to still be active. Of course, you would need to pretend to still be an Inquisitor, but you would be one of us.¡±
¡°Forgive me if I am incorrect about this¡ but the Inquisition would do horrible things to me if they found out I was reporting to your order,¡± I asked.
¡°You wouldn¡¯t be reporting to our order. You would be part of our order. We would do our best not to put you into a situation where your cover was blown. Your role would mostly be gathering information, and working your way up into a position of power within your father¡¯s Order. We would help you with this by providing you with the knowledge and resources to move you into a position of value as quickly as possible. We would also provide you with training and some of our secret knowledge. How to avoid being spied upon, for example.¡±
¡°And if I wasn¡¯t moving fast enough, or couldn¡¯t get the information you wanted? Would blackmail me by threatening to reveal me?¡±
¡°There are assets, and there are assets,¡± Vermont said. ¡°We do not turn on our own.¡±
¡°All the same ¡ª I think I need to think things through,¡± I said.
Vermont nodded, ¡°I understand. You are young. The world still seems like it is open and filled with exciting possibilities.¡± Then Vermont smiled. ¡°My door is always open to you Lynx Elm, whether you choose to change your mind or not.¡±
Vermont and I parted ways a little while later, and I headed back to the inn to change into better clothing for my date with Nynaeve. A fog had rolled in on the city, and the rain had turned into a mist. I dressed in a spiffier set of clothing and then had the innkeeper summon another rickshaw to carry me through the gloom.
Climbing into the back, I noticed that both the passenger section and the rickshaw driver were dry. Asking the driver about this, he said, ¡°magic.¡± Which didn¡¯t help?
Nynaeve was not inside the mercenary guild. For expediency, we had agreed to meet at her work. A woman that I¡¯d seen a few times was tending the bar. We¡¯d never spoken and didn¡¯t know her name. The room got real quiet as I walked to the bar.
¡°Nynaeve around?¡± I asked.
¡°She said she didn¡¯t want to get rained on, so she¡¯s in the back changing. She should be out in a little while. So where are you taking her on your date?¡±
I turned and faced the rest of the room and saw that everyone was watching me and listening in to what I was saying to the woman at the bar. ¡°What? Does everyone know?¡±
¡°Pretty much.¡± An old mercenary with a criss-cross of scars across his face called out. Another woman, this one missing an eye said, ¡°and you¡¯ll treat her right, or the guild will have something to say about it.¡±
There was a chorus of ¡°Yeah,¡± and ¡°Damn straight,¡± from around the establishment.
The only exception was a slim woman yelled out ¡°screw her brains out!¡± at which point one of the two people she was drinking beer with dumped their beer over that woman¡¯s head. The lethe woman turned and to the person who¡¯d dumped his beer and said: ¡°What you do that for?¡± I didn¡¯t hear the answer, but a fight broke out.
The fight had spread to some of the other tables when Nynaeve came out. She looked over at the flailing and punching mercenaries and the detritus of broken furniture and smashed glassware on the floor. Then she looked at me, looked at the stout stick she usually used to break up fights, and then pulled her braid.
She walked over to where I was standing. ¡°Do you know what that¡¯s all about?¡±
I shrugged.
Status
Right now I am sitting in the Opthemologist¡¯s office waiting for my eyes to finish dilating.
Over the past week I¡¯ve had a few people email me about the status of this story. It is with much sadness that I say this, but as of right now this story is on hiatus.
Right now I am suffering a bout of deep depression. I have trouble getting out of bed each day and when I do try to write nothing comes out. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
I have an appointment with a therapist tomorrow and I have had some luck with rewriting early chapters. But as of now I am just not in the right place to write.l new stuff. Rewrites and editing is easier so I¡¯ll probably continue on that.
Sorry. I wish the situation was different. I was enjoying myself immensely as I wrote this. If there were any way to continue forward I would.
Update
It has been a while so I thought I would give a bit of an update.
About two weeks ago I moved to Saint Petersburg Florida to be closer to my family. I am currently looking for an apartment and might have found a place yesturday.
After I finally move in I plan to start writimg again. This will probably be a rewrite so there won''t be any new chapters soon. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
I don''t know how soon I will post anything new. I probably won''t post here for a while. Most likely I will try to finish up Book 1 and put it on Amazon. Or not. I might reach a point where I need to be motivated by comments and post a bunch of chapters here. We will see.
Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for the wait, and say that I hope to start something soon.