When Talia woke, the kitten was nowhere to be found. Her manaburn, on the other hand, was very much still present, and unabashedly pounding her head inside out. The young mage felt like she had been filled with magma that had been left to harden.
A burning stiffness that spared no part of her body.
Her throat felt dry and raspy, and her upper lip itched. The back of her hand came away crusty with blood after she went to itch it. She felt a pang of concern.
Nosebleeds in the night probably aren’t a good sign.
At least the minor hallucinations—the glowing, unfamiliar runes that had plagued the corner of her vision— were gone. For now.
As she sat up, her whole body protested, imploring her to just not.
The only part of her that said the opposite was her stomach, doing its best to eat its way through her abdomen. Talia had lived with her gift long enough to know that the gnawing hunger meant that her self-healing talent had gone to work on fixing her while she slept.
Considering I don’t remember getting any obvious injuries yesterday, that’s…probably not a good thing.
Too groggy to leave the bunkhouse in search of a meal, not to mention, completely unaware of the expedition’s current situation, Talia fumbled at the drawer that she hid her snacks in, frowning ever so slightly when she noticed the gouged claw marks in the wood.
It seemed the little furball had still been hungry.
The hair raised on the back of her neck when she realized that even as a welp, the beast had been able to tear through drearwood like it was clay.
A good reminder that her new…friend…wasn’t a street cat she’d brought home, but a juvenile predator. Talia was lucky that the cub hadn’t decided that she was the meal.
Either way, Talia set aside a few strips of jerky in the corner of the bed that the mirage lynx had seemed to favour.
Just in case.
I doubt it’s a threat to the caravan. It’s just a baby! An orphaned, hungry baby that’s probably feeling alone and lost.
Talia could sympathize with that.
A jolt ran through her arms as she stretched, setting her fingers to tingling.
Her mindsense was back, still in its most basic form, a sphere about a dozen metres in radius that sparked to life at the presence of living minds. Just the thought of pushing it open further gave her a headache, so Talia decided to lay off on magic, at least until she’d recovered more.
Zaric and Lazarus were right. I was pushing myself too hard.
Thinking back to her actions of the previous day she posed herself the question of whether or not she’d done the right thing.
On the bright side, Talia was sure that she’d saved the delver’s lives. Pretty sure at least. The five forward scouts and the gnomish engineers were very unlikely to be a match for over twenty blight devils. She shuddered as she considered the possibility. If the mangy bats had managed to damage anyone’s gas mask…
Haunting screams echoed in her head.
Talia gave herself a shake. Lazarus’s words from her talks with him rang true. The safety of the expedition was something she could only ever influence, not control.
Focus. What could I have done better, what did I do well and what will the consequences be?
To start, the working she’d undertaken was obviously well above her skill level. Any number of factors could have played into it, the main clue being that she’d drained her Core dry in less than three seconds. Whether it was poor imagery, too many targets, or a lack of mana, the fact remained that what she had done was… Stupid. Incredibly unwise. Magic was not a toy, and she could and had hurt herself. Talia could only cross her fingers and hope the damage wasn’t permanent.
The young woman’s searing body spiked its agreement.
On the other hand, she hadn’t and still didn’t see any alternative. Most of the defenders had been confined to their quarters in the bunk wagons, too far behind the front of the wagon train to be of any use.
Could she have used her kinetics instead of her psionics maybe?
A moment of thought was all it took to realize the infeasibility of such a task. For now, her kinetic affinity was unsuited to precision work beyond moving around inanimate objects and… that was it. Any other application generally manifested with the force of a sledgehammer falling from a great height, which, while helpful on the surface, generating a large enough force construct to bludgeon the entire swarm would have drained her just the same, probably even more.
Another thing to work on. If she’d been able to shoot out a volley of piercing attacks quickly and efficiently, damage the wings, target the head or center of mass…
Talia reached into her cupboard to write the idea down in her journal. It joined a whole host of other ideas she’d resolved to try out—if she ever got the time.
The young woman was dragged out of her thoughts by a light knock on the side of her bunk.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Flicking the light off, Talia pulled the curtain open to reveal Calisto, gas mask held loosely in one hand, the other poised to knock again.
The two looked at each other for a while, until Talia gestured for the older woman to have a seat.
The chronicler did, and Talia pulled the curtain closed, flicking on the lightstone with a finger.
Calisto slipped her clicker out of her mouth and into a little pouch at her belt.
“How are you feeling? Zaric implied that what you did was no mean feat. He seemed— concerned,” she asked.
The chronicler’s ice-blue eyes betrayed contrition and concern whereas the rest of her displayed careful indifference. Talia nodded her head, wincing as her headache reminded her of its existence.
“I’ve been better. The manaburn is intense, but I’ll live. It doesn’t seem like any of my abilities were affected, but I won’t be able to bolster or monitor morale for a while. I’m sorry,” Talia said before hesitating, “Did—did the scouts survive?”
She wasn’t sure how she’d feel if she learned that her suffering was in vain. If they’d died anyway…
A sigh of relief escaped Talia’s lips when Calisto bobbed her head once.
“Thanks to you, we escaped with only minor injuries. A broken arm that Lazarus has promised will heal in due time. Mage-Commandrum Zaric has taken over from the forward scouts on cutting duty. I don’t know why we didn’t consider it before,” Calisto said ruefully, eyes staring intently at the mural of Karzgorad on the wall.
“All it took was a wave of his hand and the amanita muscaris luscent shook itself off the chasm wall like a bad case of fleas. Luckily, he was able to complete the scouts’ work before more of those blasted blight devils converged.”
Talia nodded, turning to follow the chronicler’s gaze as it roved over the cityscape with a kind of longing.
“Good. I’m glad it wasn’t for nothing then. Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll recover quickly, and then I’ll go back to keeping an eye on morale,” Talia said.
Calisto’s piercing stare snapped back to the young woman.
“Don’t. Before the whole mess, Torval and I were going to ask you to stop. Both Zaric and Lazarus have intimated in no uncertain terms that we were doing you harm, both physically and mentally.”
Talia shrank back at the vehemence in the chronicler’s tone.
“But—”
She was cut off by a slashing hand motion.
“No. I was wrong to ask what I did of you. I saw only the possible benefits and none of the harm. Even Dorian—er Lazarus will admit that,” she said.
“They’re all so afraid,” Talia whispered, staring past Calisto at a point caught between the past and the future. Shaking her head, she turned back to meet the chronicler’s frozen gaze.
“I can help them. A nudge of hope. A whispered comfort. A calming dream. Little things to bolster and encourage. To keep the dark at bay.”
A visible sadness overcame the older woman at Talia’s words. Calisto’s wire-thin lips quirked into a near smile—sardonic and rueful.
“Fear is a necessity. A fact of life and an occupational hazard. We are all of us afraid. Our calling demands it. What truly separates a Delver of the Deep from anyone else is what we do with that fear. It is alright to be afraid, so long as you do not falter. So long as you hold the line and do what must be done,” Calisto intoned the words as if quoting someone.
Knowing her, she probably was.
Doesn’t make her any less right.
Talia nodded slowly, a thoughtful look on her face. Calisto continued.
“Hang on to that drive to bolster, for we will need it. Don’t waste it by burning the candle at both ends. Until then, have faith in your fellow delvers. We are made of sterner stuff than you think. As it stands, the expedition can’t stand to lose you.”
Wisdom imparted, the chronicler stood to leave, pausing before she tugged the curtain open as if remembering something.
“Oh, and Talia?”
The young woman looked up from when she was pensively gazing at her hands.
“Hmm?”
“You’ll be glad to know that nobody has drawn a connection between you and the fate of the blight devils. I believe that the current consensus is an act of divinity,” the chronicler said the word like she’d just found a venomous bug in her boot.
Talia couldn’t help it. She laughed. It hurt, by Wyrr’s scaly arse did it hurt, but it felt good.
“Bahahahaa—wait, wait. They’re saying—hah—that a god did it?” she asked.
Calisto raised an eyebrow in what Talia assumed was amusement. It was hard to tell with the stern-faced woman.
“Yes,” she replied, “Something about blessing our mission to save the arcano-sun or some such nonsense. In either case, I urge you not to disabuse them of the notion. The crew have suffered enough shocks already. No need to clue them in on the fact that an unbound mage is in their midst. Not to mention it has bolstered morale considerably.”
Still fighting painful chuckles, Talia nodded, seeing the sense in the woman’s words.
“Yea, makes sense. Thanks for letting me know,” she replied.
Calisto hummed in response.
“Alright, I’ll leave you to rest. Zaric asked that I let you know that he’s taking his meal in wagon one with Osra, if you feel the need for company.”
Talia nodded, unsure if she’d take the mage-commandrum up on the offer. On one hand, her body demanded rest. But she also needed food, and some company might be nice. The trip through the Chasm of the Lost had been nothing if not isolating. Although if Osra was going to be there…
Calisto clambered up into her bunk above Talia’s, shutting the curtain with a snick. She felt the older woman’s mind quickly shift into what she recognized as a sleeping pattern. After briefly wondering at the skill it must take to fall asleep so quickly—if it wasn’t just sheer exhaustion—Talia made a decision.
Eh, fuck it. Who knows, maybe Osra’s mellowed out. Besides, Zaric might have some insight into how long I’ll be manaburned for.
The young woman took a quick dip into the water closet for a blissfully hot shower—the only sensation her manaburned body seemed to tolerate— Talia slipped into her armour and out the door.
The jog to catch up with the rapid pace of the wagons was agonizing, but Talia was getting used to the pain. A worrisome trend that said something about her life in the past few months.
While she ran, the arcanist considered what she should turn her efforts to, now that she’d been forbidden from psionically augmenting the crew’s spirits, freeing up a lot of her time. The caravan would be in the Chasm for at least three more weeks, if not more. Plenty of time for her to catch up on holes in her knowledge, while they were all still confined to quarters.
Cycling made the list immediately—after she’d recovered, of course, just the thought of touching her Core sent sharp pinpricks down her spine.
More reading. Calisto had several bestiaries and historical accounts that would help her prepare for future troubles down the road. Torval’s book on matrix cores jumped to the top of the list, followed closely by the oh-so-ominous Mage-Madness. Both would need to be read before they arrived in Karzurkul. Talia hadn’t forgotten about her original ambition of scouring the dead city’s libraries for clues on the mysterious illness, and the bleakly titled book would hopefully give her a good place to start from.
Not to mention insight into some of the…odd things I’ve been experiencing lately.
The young mage told herself that it was impossible that she’d developed symptoms so soon, but she couldn’t be sure without more information.
She ignored the voice that whispered about how useless the book on matrix cores would be if Karzurkul’s arcano-sun was damaged beyond use.
Instead, she added a set of artefacts—fake battle wands and the like, maybe even some real ones— to the list of things to prepare. Better to be ready with an excuse if she ever had to use her magic in front of the crew.
Before she could think of other things to add, Talia arrived at the door to the command wagon, out of breath and tingling with manaburn.