The legendary magical city had transformed in the millennia since N-ta had last been there. Gone were the stone buildings, replaced with metal structures and adorned with gold. The fur and primitive fabric outfits had been replaced with robes and outfits of material more exotic than she’d seen before. The mages, students, and masters seemed more varied than ever before, with all manner of skin tones, hair colors, and facial structures. N-ta shape shifted back into her original self, summoning a robe that matched the style of those around her, red, gold, and dark blue. The sandals on their feet looked more form-fitting and no longer stone or wood.
As she passed through the crowd, every eye focused on the woman who stood head and shoulders above most. Merlin gave small talk to the ones that hovered around like curious flies, but most gave way for the group. They ascended hovering steps and climbed high into the sky to enter the large gold and metal palace at the center of the city.
“Friends, citizens, students, mages!” Merlin shouted, taking his place at the center of the enormous hall. “Today is a wondrous occasion!” He gestured. “Against all odds, one of our most legendary residents, the eternal woman herself, N-ta!”
He pointed, and she approached. At the center, near him, she bowed to the group. The room, vast as a cavern, held some couple hundred people. They gave her a standing ovation.
“When I was a child,” N-ta explained, “no one in the world had written word. There were no metal weapons. It’s been thousands and thousands of years since then. I’ve been gone for the last two millennia.” She wiped tears away. “Nothing makes me happier than to set foot in Boshamta once again!”
A raucous cheer arose from the crowd.
“In the past,” Merlin declared, “we’ve had to deal with the threat of goblins, who feast on human blood, but are short, weak creatures with miniscule magic. We’ve had to send groups of men against ghouls, skinny, tall monsters with pale skin and long limbs who possess impossible strength and durability.”
He glanced at Morgana. “Now,” he said, “we have a new situation to deal with. The vampire.”
Morgana bowed her head and approached. “Many of us are turned against our will,” she declared. “We are born of a craving for human blood, and we are driven by a sickening thirst. Those who are desperate for power will kidnap people and turn them to have thralls to serve them.”
The crowd muttered amongst themselves about this.
“We have to save the ones we can,” N-ta stated, “and kill the ones we can’t.”
From the crowd came a call of action. Despite the dour nature behind the cry, which was a desperate need for battle, N-ta couldn’t help but feel touched. Once more, she knew, she was in the company of fellow magicians and mage-warriors that could be counted on to be her ally in combat against monsters.
The immortal woman explained how brutal magicians had trapped her within the gem that had brought power and vampirism to many a brutal figure across the centuries. The young and old alike sat horrified by the tale, some eager to get into the fight and defeat the monsters plaguing the world, others desperate to stay away. The makeup of the crowd told N-ta of centuries of Boshamta spreading out its teachings. She saw styles of clothing more exotic and colorful than any she had seen before. The methods and instruments of fabric weaving had changed enormously in two thousand years, she figured.
Not to mention, she saw, the faces carried features she’d never seen before. The crowd had never been so varied as now. What really got her blood racing, though, was the styles of magic that were new. She’d never seen anything like this before.
After the discussion was through, the high-ranking mages and their direct understudies gathered together and discussed plans of action. She approached the wizard she’d intended to meet.
Merlin stood, projecting an image of age beyond his years. She had no idea how long he’d lived. His long mane of black hair stood in stark contrast to the calm power he seemed to possess. “Merlin,” she introduced. “We need to catch up.”
“Obviously,” the head of Boshamta said, nodding. “I’ve long heard tales of your actions. You, after all, knew Wukong when he was alive, and you fought against the Dark Lord Rethif.”
She fought off the urge to cringe. After all, she realized, to someone alive in this time, anyone she knew would be ancient legend, dead for thousands of years. After all, she was older than the written word. “Wukong was a boy I rescued from assassins,” she told, “and Rethif was a clansman of mine when I lived in the northeastern wintery mountains.”
The wise wizard’s eyes opened. Apparently, surprise had not been a common acquaintance of this man. “Truly?” he asked, his tone eager. “To think the tales speak of him as a great bringer of evil, and he was mortal once, like you.”
N-ta almost scoffed. “He kept a broken spear that had my blood on it,” she explained, “and like a fool he drank my blood. When he exposed his vital essence to the goblin blood in mine that provides me with magic, he could have died. It was by pure luck that he survived.”
“I have much to learn from you,” Merlin said, a suggestion in his tone, “and you, from me.”
N-ta grinned. “Good to see this place still in motion,” she replied. “Do you have a private place to train?”
“I do,” Merlin affirmed.
From there, they left the main hall and returned to a large stone and metal domicile where a large chamber lit by flame magic provided them plenty of space. Merlin summoned his scrolls with a wave of his hand and a shout of a magic word. He brought forth one scroll with letters on it that N-ta had never seen before. She’d been around when primitive writing had first formed, but she still wasn’t that used to reading. However, upon her eyes fixing upon the page, her mind rearranged the shapes into ideas that burned into her memory.
When her arms shot out to catch the sides of the stone podium, steadying herself, Merlin laughed. “That’s…new…” N-ta uttered, shaking her head.
“It’s perfectly safe,” Merlin answered. “These glyphs are magical, and only those with magical ability can read them. Once read, they imbed the knowledge into you.”
She read on, learning more in a few minutes than some years of practice on her own. “This…” she exclaimed, shaking her head, blinking in surprise, “this is amazing! Before, it was a lot of trial and error!”
“I can’t imagine how long it took you to pull the basics out,” Merlin told, “Seeing as you had to try and fail at each possible method until you found one that worked, and then, you simply had to memorize it.”
“It took me years to perfect something basic like fire,” she admitted. “At first I’d just shoot out some flame and it wouldn’t matter how good it was."
Merlin summoned a sword with his magic. It formed out of nothing, vapor turning into a solid metal blade complete with hilt. She’d just barely looked up from the book to see him gesture and recite words quietly. “With this method,” he explained, “even complicated magic can be reduced to a simple focus. Ease of use, repeatability, and reliable outcomes.”
“I’m eager to learn,” she said, continuing to read.
Within an hour, they were demonstrating basic glyph use. He would show her a basic form, and she would give him the result. Her intuitive use of magic, while spotty at times, allowed her to pick up on the regimented system of magic easily. Before the end of the session, she had memorized each of the symbols to draw in her mind to summon the twenty most common spells she used.
The common dining area had grown considerably since she was last here. From a small area of tables with stone seats to a wide courtyard full of thick wood dining tables and seats padded with fabric bags of feathers, it had grown to the size of a small village onto itself. The area had expanded far beyond the original borders of the valley she created the community in.
No fewer than six people clustered around her. Two of the men looked like they came from the far east, one woman had light brown skin and a red dot on her forehead, and the other three varied from tan to pale. When they spoke, her magic translated their speech, but their accents vastly differed from what she was used to.
“Bao Lo,” one man said, looking to have either just reached adulthood or stood almost hear it. “It is an honor to meet you.”
She nodded at him. “N-ta,” she introduced. “Do you come from the same region Wukong came from?”
At this, his features lit up. “I do!” he exclaimed. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about!” He coughed and paused to collect his thoughts. “So, you adventured with the Monkey King?”
She started. “Monkey King?” she said. Her confusion turned into a laughing smile. “I suppose as an adult he did resemble a monkey, huh?” The young man nodded. “Yeah, when I first found him, he was a young boy running from attackers.”
“So, he could actually…” The second man began. N-ta paid attention to the story he told and had to keep her face from betraying her confusion. Sure, the magic she taught Wukong was powerful, and he accomplished wonders, but his life only vaguely resembled this mythological fairy tale. Still, she supposed, as time went on, lots of figures she knew would be turned into legend this way. At the end of his long diatribe, he was startled by the awkward pause. “Oh! Where are my manners? I am Lu Fan.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” N-ta explained. She gathered her memories together. “I hate to ruin a good story, but Wukong did a lot of real things that weren’t this tale you’ve been told.” She took a breath and let it out. “He lived about two hundred years. At the time, that was about as far as life-extending magic would go. He saved lives and brought down tyrants. He brought fresh water to dry villages and food to starving communities. The magic he wielded brought goodness and joy to countless people across the world.” She sighed. “But for all he could do, he was a man. That means he was limited in what he could do. There were people he couldn’t save and problems he couldn’t fix.”
“Were you there when he died?”
Bao Lo’s question silenced the table. All eyes were on her.
“Yes,” N-ta explained. “For a while, I was at the deathbeds of everyone I originally adventured with.”
This drew wows and other comments of praise from her table. As the cooks rang the bell and people began lining up to get their food, her conversation partners clustered around her and continued to ask questions.
“Matima,” the brown-skinned woman said. “I’ve been reading about your histories from the library.”
N-ta raised her eyebrows as she got in line. “I hope they say nice things about me,” she quipped.
“What was it like fighting ghouls?” Matima asked.
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“They’re powerful and durable,” N-ta explained. “Capable of surviving frightening amounts of abuse, incredibly strong, tall and skinny with pale skin and jaws that can fit an entire person’s head.” She pounded a fist into her palm. “An entire team of warriors can go up against it and die. The only reason anyone survived against it in the tribes I was a member of was because of me.”
They filled their wooden bowls with the hot stew and sat down. Each savory bite nearly brought N-ta to tears. The sheer nostalgia of daily life in Boshamta bled through in all the little ways. The food had such a variety of tastes, each meal a journey across the world’s cultural palates. To see different skin tones, facial structures, hair styles, and clothing all gathered around the tables, eating together, it brought joy to her heart. Out in the real world, there existed all manner of tribes, each vying for control, fighting each other to the death. They shortened their already short lives. Here, for now, at least, peace reigned.
“We’d like it if we could train with you, N-ta,” a light-skinned woman with fiery red hair said.
The immortal woman looked at her group, each bearing similar features. They must have come from the far northwestern areas, as they bore the thick bodies of stored fat for cold climates. “I’d be happy to,” she told them, finishing a second bowl.
“Great!” she replied.
After the meal, she helped gather the dishes and implements and aided in the washing and storing. “There’s been talk of the war against the vampires being over now that you’re here,” the man said, helping store the bowls in their space. “The people go out and rescue one area, and another gets infected not long after.”
“So,” a middle-aged woman cut in, “what about that vampire that’s with you?”
N-ta sighed. “I think we need her,” she admitted. “We have to know our enemy in order to beat our enemy, and that means not rejecting a potentially powerful ally.”
“We’ve been studying vampire magic for the last thousand years,” a middle-aged woman said. She lowered her head. “Lady N-ta.”
“Ma’am,” N-ta returned.
“We’re the lead council on non-human energies,” one of her colleagues said. “The captured vampires we’ve studied all managed to kill themselves or otherwise corrupt the information we gather.”
The first woman nodded. “So with Morgana here,” she explained, “it allows us to get reliable data without any setbacks.”
“How’s Morgana doing?” N-ta asked.
“I’m doing fine,” the vampire woman replied, approaching. “They’re working on a blood replacement so I can survive without having to drink human blood.”
“So,” N-ta mused, “is my idea correct? Were they born from my hunger?”
The main science mage nodded. “Unfortunately, yes,” she revealed. “That’s why your blood is so powerful. The goblin blood that mixed with yours all those eons ago is feeding off the vital power in your blood and pumping out magic. You happened to fall into the nice area where you get magical durability faster than magical power so it won’t kill you.”
“But,” her colleague cut in, “the bad news is when you get hungry for long enough, it begins to manifest as a goblin curse. This is what transforms some people into ghouls.”
“Let me see if I got it,” N-ta thought out loud, “when they’d wear the amulet, they’d inherit my power but also my hunger as a curse for vital force?”
“And so, they turn into a creature not quite a ghoul but not quite as powerful as you,” the leader of the group replied. “And they feed on human blood because it carries a lot of human vitality.”
“But why are they weak to white magic?”
“I can answer that one,” Morgana said. “White magic is pure, unfiltered vital power. It overwhelms them.”
“You going to study my power?” N-ta asked.
“We sure are,” the study leader said. “Oh, how could I forget? My name is Vamilon.”
“Poritan,” said her younger colleague.
Afterward, they discussed the ins and outs of the various kinds of magic. What amazed N-ta had been the sheer volume of information they had obtained. Lifetimes of information had been obtained in just a few years. The amount of material she had to read up on simply amazed her. The patience these people had in helping her catch up was nothing short of inspirational.
N-ta retired to a home kept prepared just for her. The bed had been prepared using magic. She lay on the fabric and stretched. “Mmm,” she uttered, stretching. She’d never slept on such a comfortable bed. After a comfortable meal and pleasant conversation, she retired to sleep and drifted off.
The sun peaked in through the opening and illuminated the dwelling. Her eyes opened and she shifted to a seated upright position. When she stepped out into the morning air, garbed in elaborate mage robes, everyone was headed out to their daily activities. The cooks chosen by rotation gathered vegetables, grains, and meats for the morning meal. Mages went out in all directions to gather wood for the fires, and the scholars went to work studying the forms of magic.
She hadn’t had time to practice in a long time, so she found a wide open area and began putting theory to use. Knowing how to properly summon made things so much easier. Instead of having to focus on a specific feeling of an item, just knowing the spell allowed it to appear. Better yet, standardized spells meant that some magical concepts overlapped, greatly reducing the number of things she needed to keep track of. A staff entered her hand and she spun, twirled, and ducked, practicing the stances and attacks that she’d learned along with Wukong.
“Ready for practice?” the red-headed woman from the previous day said.
“I’m ready,” N-ta said. “What sort of practice did you want?"
The woman summoned an ornate wooden staff to her hands. “Oh,” she said, “I think staves are fine.”
They squared off against each other, with the immortal woman adopting a power stance, and the red-headed woman taking up a defensive stance. She couldn’t help but be impressed by the woman, using a stance that required her to get relatively close to defend properly. These were techniques that could either go well or very badly.
With a shout of, “ha” the battle began. N-ta moved forward cautiously, feeling for her opponent’s reach and posture, and when the woman thrust forward, she battled the blow aside and struck forward, almost tagging the woman on the knees. The woman dipped her legs out of the way and recovered in record time, slapping N-ta’s staff aside and aiming for a sudden strike to the side. The immortal woman dodged easily but landed in the right position for a forward tap with the blunt tip of the staff, knocking her back slightly.
As N-ta attempted to recover, the woman pulled her forward with a kinetic spell and tagged her on the left side and then right, disorienting her and aiming for a hard blow to the chest. N-ta leaned back and stuck out her staff at the same time, connecting with one of the woman’s knees, throwing her legs out from under her. On the way down, she tagged the woman gently on the head, indicating a kill shot.
“You did great,” N-ta said, holding her staff aside and extending a hand.
“You’re just as amazing as the stories say,” the woman said. “By the way, I’m called Botoo.”
“Wanna go again?”
Botoo grinned, drawing back. “Sure!”
They squared off again, and when they shot forward, the redhead tried something. She let N-ta get close and try for a hard stab, and instead of knocking the staff aside, she twisted slightly, coming closer, and aiming for a combination. Her tactic surprised her older foe, who had to adjust tactics mid-strike. Botoo’s first blow missed as the tall immortal twisted her torso a bit, but her second and third blows connected, knocking the woman back.
“Ha!” she cried, charging forward to take advantage of N-ta’s momentary confusion.
She connected with a few strong hits that knocked the immortal woman off-balance. N-ta realized she had to change momentum. When the woman came in for a strike, she summoned a kinetic spell that pulled the woman’s head back slightly.
“Wha…?”
Botoo’s shout came a moment before N-ta tagged her on the shoulder with the staff, disrupting her balance. She then charged forward, hit her in the stomach before hitting her in the upper back.
“Two,” N-ta said, counting her victories, extending a hand.
The redhead shook her head, taking the hand and being pulled to her feet. “You’re something else, you know that? Just when I think I have a winning strategy, you figure out a new pathway.”
“I’ve been fighting longer than you’ve been alive,” N-ta said. “I’d certainly hope so.”
After a few more rounds, with N-ta winning each one, Botoo smiled and they headed on to magic study. “How’s the catching up doing?”
N-ta pondered. “There’s a lot to catch up on,” she revealed, “but honestly? I’m not worried.”
“So,” Botoo asked, “what’s the area of magic you’re most concerned about?”
“I thought my knowledge of white magic was thorough,” N-ta admitted, “but the fact is, seeing the level of the healers here tells me I’m not even close.”
“Let’s go there, then.”
At the redhead’s suggestion, they went over to where the healers were working on victims of vampire attacks from around the world. At the front, a man in white robes and a face covering gestured. “Please,” he said, “be sure to walk through the cleansing glyph before you enter the infirmary.” When they did, they felt a tingling pass over them as their bodies were magically scrubbed clean. “Thank you. Now, what brings you here?”
N-ta was handed a face covering and she draped it over her nose and mouth. “Simply put,” she admitted, “I was wanting to learn the intricacies of white magic.”
“Perfect,” the man replied. “I am Moa Dal, the chief medicine and white magic instructor of Boshamta.” He led them forward. “My students and fellow white mages are busy at work, as you can see. I can spare an hour or two to give information to someone as respected as yourself.”
Moa Dal led the two of them to the room where they kept all their research materials. The immortal woman got handed a thick bound collection of pages. “Wow,” she uttered, taking it and starting to read.
“We’ve been perfecting white magic ever since you were gone,” he explained. “The fact was, our healing was quite rudimentary, but we managed to make huge strides.”
They read. N-ta’s eyes went wide several times as she covered page after page in minutes. “That’s something,” she said, staring at the page. “You can clean out a wound with magic while regenerating it, and by doing that, you get less infection?”
“Infection almost vanishes,” he corrected. “We don’t know how, but there’s something in wounds that causes infection even if the tissue is regrown.” He pulled a text off the shelf and opened it to the right page. “As you can see, here’s a picture of the tissue regrown with only one cleaning.” It showed a red area of the leg that was clearly infected, even though the wound was gone. “And this…” he pointed to a second image. In this one, the wound was red but the healed leg was not. “This is with cleaning during regeneration.”
“It’s as different as night and day!” N-ta exclaimed.
“If we can figure out how infections are caused,” he stated, “we’ll be able to make even more progress.”
“Thank you, healer,” Botoo said.
“Is there anything else you need?”
“Just to read,” N-ta said.
“If you need anything else,” Moa Dal said, bowing, “just tell me. I’ll be dealing with patients.” With that, he turned and left them in the reading room.
Botoo and N-ta sat reading, occasionally asking and answering questions. This had been what N-ta always enjoyed the most. Combat was exciting, but it wasn’t fun. What she always found fun was sharing peaceful times and experiences with other people. Just sitting and reading had been something of a new experience. For the longest time, there had been no written word. Then people developed marks that represented sounds that represented ideas.
“It’s strange,” Botoo told her older compatriot.
“Hmm?”
“Just that,” the redhead clarified, “there didn’t used to be things to read. Now, it’s perfectly ordinary in places like this. How did your people learn from the past without writing?”
“The elderly,” N-ta explained, “would pass stories down.” She chuckled. “When I mean ‘elderly,’ I’m talking about women and men barely into what we now call middle age.” She cleared her throat. “These would change because no one remembered everything perfectly.”
“So,” Botoo clarified, “there’s no guarantee what you learned was correct?” N-ta nodded. “Wow. It’s so much better now.”
“I agree.” N-ta had to admit, there was nothing like making an objective recording of history in writing.
They read for another few hours. This treasure trove of information gave N-ta assurance her magic would become many times more potent and easier to do in the upcoming struggles.
The signal went up for the afternoon meal. It was N-ta’s turn to help prepare the food, so she gathered bowls and utensils and spread them out. Most of the mages there smiled or marveled at her as she passed by their position, setting down a bowl, plate, and utensils. Afterward, she got her serving and took a seat.
Merlin took a seat next to her. “I’m really glad you’re taking to studying the magic so readily,” he stated. “As many strides as we’ve made in taking these enemies out, you’re key to our moving forward.”
“That’s what I figured,” N-ta admitted, taking a drink of water. “After all, I created them.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he clarified. “I’ve got some powerful mages. I’m quite powerful myself. But you? You’re on another level.” He started eating. After a few bites, he paused and laughed. “Whatever allowed the goblin blood to make you durable faster than it could burn you, we’re glad that happened.”
She swallowed what she was chewing. “Mmm!” She uttered, turning to him. “I was going to ask about that! I wanted your best to study the magic circulating in me and see what they can learn from it.”
“Didn’t you say,” he replied, “that when a human tastes goblin blood they either burn to death instantly, turn into a ghoul, or turn into what you are?”
“Yeah,” she explained. “Mostly they just die or turn into a ghoul. Goblin blood takes in vital essence from blood and outputs a whole lot of magical energy.”
He pondered this. “But you, specifically,” he mused, “your durability went up faster than it could overwhelm you.”
“That’s what happened,” she agreed again, “yes.”
“That’s odd,” he stated. “We haven’t encountered many goblins, the little monsters they are, but the ones we’ve fought, their durability is such a small part of their magic.”
“That must be part of why I’m so rare,” N-ta thought out loud.
“I’d say so,” Merlin said. “So, I’ve come to a decision. Starting tomorrow, I want you to participate in open training with our mages under instruction. Would that be, okay?”
She nodded. “I’d be glad to,” she said.
“So,” he confirmed. “Starting tomorrow we formally begin preparing for mass movement against them.”
“No more piecemeal action, then.”
The words felt good as she spoke them. He smiled and nodded, and they went back to their meal. As she looked up, she could see the eagerness on everyone’s eyes, even if they weren’t looking directly up at her.
It was time for action.
She was ready.