The Real Fight

2 months later…

Captain Morwen watched silently as ArchPriest Erlaut paced about the atrium of the Grand Temple with the same energy that a caged big game cat would. The Sauridius were out there, and that was enough alone to irritate the man’s new found paranoia. Morwen put up with Erlaut’s mania for as long as her patience would allow before he finally stood and wove a quick light spell to flash blind the ArchPriest.

“Morwen! This is no time for games!” He chastised.

Morwen’s unamused expression caused him to falter. “Good, because I was growing tired of your paranoia wasting my time.”

“Paranoia? There are binders loose! You’ve seen them attack the temple once. To add to your failures, you couldn’t even stop the blasted daughters of the bastard who killed the last ArchPriest!”

Morwen pinched the bridge of her nose, drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly through her mouth. “Gods give me strength,” she whispered.

Looking back up, she marched across the room and gripped Erlaut by the shoulders. His white and gold trimmed robes were clean and crisp, contrasting his harried expression. She’d seen that expression before. It was the manic, and near unhinged way some of the colonists she’d fought so hard to save looked when the Sauridius armies came to sweep Federation’s worlds clean of life. Her heart went out to Erlaut and she sighed.

“We have given you the greatest burden we could expect any man to carry. But we need you to get your shit together. Now, Erlaut. Your little witch hunt is becoming a waste of time. The binders are just playing games with you.”

“Games? You call this a game?”

“Yes. I do. I get it may not seem that way to someone like you, who sat in his office smoking his pipe smugly while real soldiers went out to die. But the cold hard truth is that the Binders are dancing just out of your reach. I’m concerned about why. You’ve taken me and my squad out of the fight when we need to be out there most. Eryn and the Federation are vulnerable. We need a real weapon to balance the scales. Barring that, we need allies.”

Erlaut’s eyes focused as he overcame whatever personal demons he’d been fighting. His lips pressed together firmly, and he finally nodded. “I assume you have a plan to remedy this?”

Morwen hesitated. This is where things got fuzzy. “Of sorts. There’s an ancient weapon amongst the stars. One that brought our very people to this world.”

“And you believe you can find this weapon and return it to us?” Erlaut asked.

Morwen shook her head uncertainly. “I believe I can try. But I lack all the information. Currently, my only lead rests on Anazi Prime.”

Erlaut nodded, muttering to himself as he processed what she said. A great weapon could make Eryn safe again. He could protect their mother. The Lady of Light would stay safe. The well of light would stay safe.

“You seek to travel to Anazi. To begin a fool’s quest to find this weapon?”

“I do.”

“The dragons won’t like elves and non riders randomly landing on their world.”

“Perhaps I could help with this task?” Rozien floated up from behind Morwen from her satchel. On a loan from Amara, Morwen had been listening together as Rozien imparted many of Aeryn’s tales with firsthand knowledge.

“Go on.” Erlaut said to Rozien with a gesture.

“If our mission is to track down Theferis, we’ll need access to library and archives of Anazi Prime. A task that would be easier accomplished with good will vs ill. The Air goddess was instrumental in Theferis’ creation. I don’t know where it was taken after we ferried our survivors to this moon, but the Lady of the Wind would know, surely.”

“Then you’ll need a cover mission. It’s best if the dragons don’t put together what you’re really looking for on Anazi Prime.”

“A cover mission?” Morwen asked.

Erlaut nodded. “In case you’re being watched or scried. We’re shielded within, but I can’t guarantee the Sauridius won’t see through our intentions after you depart. Still, we need that weapon.”

“I know.” Morwen said softly. “Rozien, would a diplomatic mission to secure an alliance with the dragons work realistically?”

“From what I can recall? Not likely. They’re a very proud race and arrogantly view themselves as the apex species of the galaxy. Accepting a political union or an alliance with us would be like laying down and rolling in the mud to them. They have very curious social norms that would almost certainly make navigating them a pain more than a blessing. You lose nothing in trying, and may find the dragons have mellowed in their solitude. Anazi is a product of the old ways of thinking. If she’s been dormant or mia*, then it’s possible they may have replaced her mode of thinking, even on the fringes.”

“Some help is better than none?” Morwen asked, reaching for Rozien’s meaning.

“Essentially. Yes.”

Erlaut frowned, his mind already creating all the various nightmare scenarios his people would face with his best people absent from the world. But it was a necessary risk. Finally, he waved Morwen off. “Very well. Be on with it then. Find the weapon and return so we can win this war.”

“I will.” She’d allowed him to assert himself more in the conversation after demonstrating something other than abject fear or paranoia. She needed Erlaut the leader, the elder mage. Not whatever mess he’d become in Ominek’s wake. Dismissing herself, she passed an Emerald Guard captain watching over the chambers. The guards were always armed now.

One of the latest in a host of security protocol changes in the wake of Ominek’s attack on the temple. Time would tell if it was an effective measure or not. In her experience, it usually depended on whether the target in question thought they were in enough duress to merit firing. Most often, that wasn’t the case.

One of the captain’s waiting at the temple’s gate checkpoint gave Morwen a nod. She didn’t know the captain’s name. Their relationship boiled down to courteous nods to each other in passing and stoic military bearing with each other. As Morwen reached earshot, the captain spoke up.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“How is he today?”

Morwen frowned, heaving a reluctant sigh. She turned to look at the temple one more time. Worry for Erlaut and the future of their world gripped her tightly. Turning back to the captain, she schooled her features more neutrally.

“Worse for the wear. It’s like something is eating at him. I can’t tell what. His need to protect the well and the people is making him manic.”

The guard captain’s gaze fell and her helmet bobbed a nod. Perhaps the captain had witnessed her share of Erlaut’s breakdowns as well. Regardless of how or what she’d seen, recognition flashed in the captain’s eyes.

“Maybe tomorrow will be better. New mission?”

“New Mission.”

“About time. I know you’ve been pushing for a change since the Inquisition started.”

“My squad is better suited to the front. We’re being wasted here. And worse, I can’t help but feel like that’s just playing into the enemy’s hand. It’s time we got back out there.”

The Emerald Guard captain grunted approval. “Go kick their heads in. We’ll make sure there’s a world to come back to.”

Morwen fist bumped the Captain as she passed through the gate checkpoint. The arcane barrier reappeared as Morwen passed the threshold. Free of the wards that held all things private and secret within the temple, Morwen wove a quick missive spell to the squad.

“Suit up everyone and get the Indra moved to the Crasher. We’ve got a new mission. We leave soon.”

Various quick replies came back, and she waved it all aside in motes of orange and red fire magic. She turned to face the star port. The Cadaver Crasher should be ready to leave the dock soon. The damage she sustained from Hidros slated for completion by now. She went to inspect the ship herself, and take the chance to show Arjun the Crasher .

*Author’s Note: mia - Missing In Action. A status assigned to soldiers and agents who haven’t reported back and/or been confirmed to be killed in action.

#

Akamori sat lotus style on the floor of his quarters in the Indra. Much had changed since he last focused on improving himself with Yasiin and spend his xp. He’d reviewed the various abilities he’d gained, and opted to spend the xp he’d earned to develop his spell portfolio. Then he invested in more abilities. He reviewed his current progress in meditation with a small measure of pride, having come a long way from a lowly farmer on a far-flung forgotten agrarian colony world in the sector. As he studied his progress, he noted a box in his stats that was unchecked.

“Enable Real Time Progress?”

He focused on the option and a secondary missive scroll unfurled next to it.

System Info : Enable Real Time Progress. Enabling this option allows the use of XP to be spent concurrent with and to reflect progress.

He pondered over that for a moment, spinning the words around in his mind. That seemed helpful. He could set his xp to auto invest in progress, reflective of what he’d accomplished. Training would merit purchases in the trained. So if he lifted weights, his xp invest in strength. Running and obstacle courses would improve his agility. Approving of the idea, he checked the box. It wasn’t like he’d scoured much of his stats, anyway. He was far too busy for that.

Satisfied with the resultant stats, he waved the system missives away mentally and opened his eyes. Just in time to catch the blur of hazy motion as a dagger sank into his abdomen close to his right kidney. He hissed in pain, hands seizing onto the blade and the invisible hand holding it. The hand holding it tried to jerk back, but he kept a firm grip on it through grit teeth even as the nerves in his body howled in pain. Neuroelectric fire writhed within his nervous system.

“It’s rude to stab a man while he’s meditating.” Akamori said through clenched teeth.

His assailant offered no verbal reply, giving him a palm to the chin instead. Akamori’s head whipped back from the impact. He shot a strike of his own out, catching the attacker in the throat. Muffled coughing issued at arm’s length away.

Akamori let go of the hand on the dagger, sliding his grip down to the dagger itself and held it in place. Then he thrust his legs up to catch the attacker in the chest and hurled them into the opposite wall. A loud thud issued, and some items on his dresser fell over in the commotion. Arms wrapped around his neck as another body jumped onto his back, trying to strangle him. But they’d sorely underestimated his strength. He wasn’t that weak kid that grew up on Honshu.

Using his air magic, he jumped to the ceiling, and maneuvered himself so his back, and whomever was riding it, would strike the ground first. He heard his attacker groan in pain. The voice was feminine, which explained the lightweight he felt when she’d pounced on his back. But who or even what she was, he couldn’t say since he’d yet to actually lay eyes on her. It was like every time he tried to focus on her, she just slipped through his mind like water through a stream.

He didn’t have to see her to hurt her, though. Now that he had her pinned, she’d lost her leverage. She was at his mercy. He channeled his fire magic to enhance his blows while driving his elbow down forcefully. With each impact, he could feel ribs weaken, and his assailant grunted painfully.

Finally, the rib fractured and his would be assassin let out a pained yelp. A dagger plunged into his chest, near the top of his pectoral muscle, near the clavicle bone. A pained roar ripped free of Akamori’s lungs, his still channeled fire magic hurled a cone of flame into the air. The gout of fire ended in a coughing fit and smoke curling free of his nostrils.

He blinked into the air and let go of his attacker, allowing them to fall to the deck while he reappeared in the doorway to his room. The quarters were too tight to wield Thanaton, forcing him to rely on the spell rifle instead. An impact struck his abdomen, and he lashed out with the rifle, using buttstock to catch his opponent square on the chin.

“Why are you trying to kill me?”

“You should have stayed a ghost of Honshu.” the woman said back.

“Keep it up and I’ll add one more to the pile.”

No response came. Slowly, he circled his room until his back was facing the doorway, proving the least amount of room and access to him. His attacker didn’t rely on active cast spells. Instead, relying on weapons like the dagger. Pain gripped his chest as felt numbness and ice slowly spreading through his body. A cough worked its way up his throat, and he fell to his knees.

Black veins grew at the edges of his wounds and grew slowly. The knife had been poisoned. It was the only explanation. He wrote a missive to the entire squad.

System Info: Missive - Recipients: The Crew: Help. My quarters. Poisoning. Assassination attempt.

He sent the message and fell back against the wall, trying to get his heart rate under control. Moving and panic would speed up the poison’s spread and he needed to fight for as much time as he could. He had magic. What could he use to buy time? Water magic had a slow tic healing spell, and he’s just purchased that spell earlier. Good. It wouldn’t cure the poison, but at least hold off the effects long enough for someone who could.

He closed his eyes and focused on the calming cool effect of the water magic within his breast. Then he channeled the healings spell and waited.

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