eyes on fire

Polzin-Wakahisa.

We got out of the rift. Carson and Mary keeled over a bit, puking like broken fire hydrants. They've never really got used to the space-time jumping. "You guys rest for a bit," I told them and they sat on the ground, away from their expelled dinner-puddle, on crossed legs, trying to relax for a moment while Horus rummaged through his pack.

I left them to their bearings, and I gazed at the landscape. Watching from above in the Malice-striker, you would be deluded into thinking everything was okay. But when you're actually out in the forefront, you got to know how ridiculously wrong you were. The smell of dead things was so strong; it tickled my nostrils into a frenzy of contractions, and the feel of mana was so thin that I could see some colors clearly: the sky had darkened from its generally lovely blue to a somewhat insidious purple and the many stars were slowly waking up, billions of fireflies flickering into activity. On the horizon, where the town of Santiago once stood, only a plume of smoke mingling with the creeping night could be seen.

"The dragons have made short work of the town," said Horus standing on my right, "How many people died, do you think?" He was always the one who asked that—too empathic, this kid was.

"Everyone." Which is always the correct answer. "Activate your helms, mana-density: dangerously low." I didn't need a helmet, because of my uniquely attuned physique. "Mary, I want you to notify Gilbert that we've confirmed our drop with no complications." She then pressed a button on her wrist and paced slightly away.

I looked down and I was wearing shorts. Apparently, no-one cared what I wore anymore. But because, I was now feeling self-conscious, I spread all of my mana evenly around my body and conjuring for myself, a NIDHOGG uniform, except for the boots. I preferred flip-flops. From the corner of my eye, I saw Carson looking at me with awed eyes. Most magi, I meet, are baffled by my unique magic—they'll be really thrilled when they know where I got it from, or I'll be tied to wooden post and burned alive.

When I conjure something up, it is not that I make something out of nothing nor do I transmute the atoms into other atoms, simply put: it's just teleportation on a much smaller scale and with the use of some tracking runes on the things I want conjured up. Maybe I should test summoning a bottle of vodka next... I should really stop drinking; only perpetuates the stereotype that everyone in the Dominion drinks—which is true—but still... stereotypes hurt.

"I am always in awe of your magic. You really must tell me how you do it." Carson appeared from my left with a helmet reminiscent of old, fighter pilots' covering his whole head. "Should we check on the town?" he asked. "I mean... there's no harm in doing it."

There wasn't any physical harm in doing it, yes. But it is a big blow on morale to see only ash and smoke, so I shook my head. "Prepare for the Quies." You see, what happens when dragons attack is that their very presence distorts the mana-layers of a place that is far-removed from their own, transforming unconsciously the land into something more preferable for them: storm dragons bring cyclones, volcanic dragons open faults, plague dragons bring disease, etchetera, etchetera. That's not even adding the fact that they have their own kind of magic to fuck shit up.

And what we, of the Einherjar Team, do is to 'calm' down the places that non-compatible dragons have disrupted with their presence, reverting the anomalies back into their more ordered, natural states, and maybe find some survivors —which is what Mary and Horus's jobs are, but because of the near-impossibility of that happening, I just let them scout and look at Carson doing his thing, so at the same moment, they can learn magic, even though they're Ords.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I turned around. "Mary."

"Yes, sir?" She walked close, looking very serious—too serious for someone still eighteen.

"Got your sniper, right?" I asked.

She tapped the thing strapped to her back. "Yes, sir."

"You and Horus, take a closer look at the town. But don't go inside its bounds, I repeat: only look from afar. Got it?" She nodded, gave me a salute and went away, presumably taking Horus as she did.

Above, I felt the faint rippling of mana and the movements of several anomalies warping the mana-topography and their vanishing after. It seemed that the Malice-striker had finished luring away most of the dragons—most, because I could still feel less-pronounced spikes in the general mana-density of the place. I just hoped that Horus doesn't go blowing things up and attracting unneeded attention.

"Carson, better hurry up on the preparations." He had laid down four poles spaced evenly apart, forming the points of a diamond. Each pole was engraved with circles and lines all around that glowed a dim yellow, a resounding calmness resonating within them. "Almost done," he replied.

Out of the blue, I felt a surge of power, not unlike a dragon’s but more familiar, more human. It was like the sensation you feel after the creation of a mana-core. But I knew this was something else for I had experienced it before, though the energy was weaker from what I once felt and knew. Then, I felt the mana of a dragon burst, then calm. I looked towards the horizon, where a ravine started; I shifted my eyes to my left, looking to see if that was where I could find a fellow Null duking it out with a dragon.

"Did you feel that, Shura?" Carson asked as he placed the finishing touches of the Quies ritual on the arcane matrix.

"Yes." I turned to look at him. "I’m going down the ravine, to find out what exactly that was."

"Are you mad? It’s obviously a dragon!" He stood up, his hands waving around frantically. "Are you looking to get yourself killed? It’s a dragon, sir!" Wow, clearly, Carson definitely doesn't have faith in my powers, though he doesn't know of them.

"Have you ever seen my eyes?" I asked.

Behind the glass of his helmet, his eyes flittered up and about, then he made a fake cough. "T-That's, um, weird. Why should I care about that?" He found my eyes, then fake-coughed again. "But to answer y-your question, no."

I smiled—I like surprising people—then, I took my glasses off, surprising him into opening his eyes wider. "Carson, do you know why they call mChudotvortsem back in the Dominion?" I really liked that name; being called that, makes me sound like some saint.

He narrowed his eyes. "I d-don't even know what that means, but no, I don't know why they call you that." He kept looking at my eyes, though I don't blame him; it's not every day that you see a man with literally burning eyes.

"I'll show you why," I turned around, then looked back at him, "but contact Horus and Mary first, and tell them to come back, immediately, to guard the Quies matrix. Don't worry about it, though they're both Ords, they've enough magic to maintain the thing."

So, we jumped down the ravine. A cocoon of mana enveloping the both of us. It would help in smoothing out the bumps of our fall, gently placing us on the charred ground; under my feet, tiny cracks sounded.

"Shura this is insane. Even ten exarchs can't beat a dragon without having half of them die!" And he was right, exarchs have as much chance as children in defeating a dragon, but exarchs and children are not me.

I merely grinned, and whatever I looked like grinning with my glasses off, shut him up. "Don't worry, Carson. Don't worry."

And beyond us, a dragon's roar exploded, and I conjured up my dragonslayer cosplay.

***