Those who walk the path of Mana must often seek to refine their minds if they wish to advance. Theories abound as to why this is so, yet the most compelling comes from Master Lionels, the Qisnian renegade. He argues that the mind must expand its capacity to grasp the hidden mathematica behind Mana. The more the mind can comprehend of the deeper mysteries, the more Mana it can command in turn.
- Master Bertrand of the University of Quas.
Larynda was where I had left her, standing a good distance from was now the quiet chaos of the compound. She was wearing a veil that covered half of her face, and more importantly her ears. Onlookers had gathered outside the Bull’s base, but none had dared step a foot inside.
The half-elven girl squawked in surprise as my hand touched her shoulder. A few moments later she registered that it was me and I dragged Larynda aside to a quiet corner of the street.
She looked at me, worry and eagerness in equal measure lining her expression. “You alright, Gil?”
“As well as can be. Incredible in fact. The Necromancer was not lying when he told me that I would gain in power in the Dust dream,” I answered plainly, nodding.
“What did you do in there anyway? The screams could be heard from out here?” she asked with a note of awe.
“What you asked me to do. I doubt the Bulls here will be troubling anyone for a while… this however quite literally points to their next little den,” I replied, opening the small wooden box that Vincenzio had given me.
Sitting on a bed of Lazarian notes was a bone finger pointing at a direction in the distance. No matter how I moved the box, the digit continued to point at a single location like a macabre compass. Suddenly, without warning, Larynda touched the dead finger.
Her glazed for a moment before she whispered, “The Old Quarter.”
“Well, then let’s be about it,” I said with an eager and evil grin.
An evil grin that she returned with equal fierceness. What had happened in my time in the Dust Dream that the girl felt such enmity now against the Bulls?
*****
The Old Quarter of Al-Lazar held the city's hoarded wealth, treasures traded and gathered from every corner of the known world. Here, a great number of warehouses, some as grand as small palaces, stood alongside busy trading houses. The diverse foreign origins of the goods were mirrored in the distinct cuts of stone and the varied architectural designs of the buildings. Unlike the winding streets of the rest of Al-Lazar, the Old Quarter was laid out in a strict grid, with straight streets and neatly divided rectangular blocks.
Finding it odd, I asked Larynda why it was so. I expected her to shrug off the question, but she was able to give me a simple answer. The Old Quarter had burned down long ago in a great fire. The Council had redesigned it for greater efficiency.
Her explanation had given me a seed of another dastardly idea.
We stood across from a massive warehouse, the insignia of the Bulls of Heaven displayed proudly across its entrance. There was a commotion and a flurry of activity as people panicked about the building.
“Burn it down,” I ordered Larynda coldly.
She looked at me for a moment. “Just like that? But what about innocent folks in there? Shouldn’t we give them a warning or something?” She tried to display a calm and collected front, but her face pinched in the semblance of a frown.
“Perhaps you are incapable?” I goaded.
“No, not it’s not that…” she half-stammered weakly.
Glaring at her sternly, I cut in. “I did not take you for an idiot. Please do not try to prove me wrong. We can not stop now. The people in there are complicit in the crimes of the Bulls. There are no innocents here. They are very, very bad people. If we do not finish this what do you think will happen to innocents like Naira and the others back in the Begonia’s Shade? We are doing this for the greater good. Consider this… karma… their divine punishment. We are only balancing the scales. Also, what do you think Kidu would do in this situation?” I spelled it out as clearly as I could. My arguments were sound.
“He would strike without warning. A Hunter does not warn its prey,” she replied reluctantly.
I decided to hammer in a different point. “And Cordelia?”
“The maker of the tool is just as guilty of the crime if he knows its intended purpose,” she answered, sounding somehow both tense and exasperated.
I said nothing, allowing her to reach her own conclusions. She took a deep breath. “You’d be going in there with or without me anyway,” she admitted, surrendering. “I can’t leave everything just to you. The gods… no… we have to help ourselves,” she added firmly, displaying a bit of backbone. It was respectable.
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Looking her in the eye, I nodded.
“This will take a little time… quite a bit of time really… I can’t use my staff because it would look too obvious. And, the warehouse is probably warded,” she explained, her eyes tightening with determination.
“Let’s do it then. Do what you must. Do not forget, I am here and I will bear this burden with you.”
The young woman offered a wan smile before her expression hardened into a mask of pure concentration. Her eyes shut, lips moving silently, shaping words that could not be heard by ears alone. These were words both ancient and new, woven together in a chant meant only for those attuned to the song of Mana.
Three are my wants… Four are the pillars… Five are the changing winds… Six are the giving breaths…
On and on went the silent litany. I could grasp only a fraction of its meaning, and even then, the deeper essence of the chant eluded me entirely.
Nara Sakullu, the bitter black flame of Chaos.
The stuff of raw chaos shot out from her with a fury that defied reason, leaping in an invisible arc through the dim air. It struck the roof of the warehouse with a malevolent hiss, erupting into a maelstrom of black, unholy flames. These flames, dark as the abyss and writhing like serpents, met an unseen barrier just inches above the structure. For a minute or two, it seemed the warehouse might hold against the assault, as the flames were repelled by this invisible shield. But then, cracks began to spiderweb across the barrier, each one spreading like a slow poison. Like ice with the spring’s thaw, the ward cracked and shattered, letting in the chaotic flame. The building had indeed been protected against arcane assault.
The fire leaked through the gaps, consuming stone and wood with an unrelenting hunger. It leaked downwards, spreading swiftly around to encompass the building in a rough circle. It burned with great delight.
"It is done?" I asked the girl. Even at this distance, I could feel the magical heat of the flames.
She nodded, her voice hesitant as she explained, "The flames heal as they burn... but not quite enough. It is a horrible way to go..."
"To die by the black flame was their fate when they chose their dark path," I said solemnly. "Their future was written by their own hands, in the many chapters of their evil deeds. Do not second-guess or overthink your actions. Think only of those you have saved from further suffering."
I needed her focused, not wallowing in guilt. The girl had become a living magical artillery piece. In short, she had finally become useful. Well, if I was honest, more useful. Out of curiosity, I cast an Identify on her.
Larynda - Chaos Water Mage [Human/Elf lvl.19]
Health: 185/185
Stamina: 26/31
Mana: 15/26
Chaotic Water Lance (lvl.1) 8
Chaotic Water Shield (lvl.2) 5
I was pleased to note that even though I used the ‘cheaper’ Identify instead of Sage’s Sight, I could still see two of her available spells. Also, thanks to her wholesale slaughter of the people in the building, Larynda had gone up a level.
She gulped, swallowing the scope of her deed. Larynda’s emerald eyes hardened as she looked into the middle distance, nodding slowly in guilty understanding.
Already the screams of burning men and women could be heard. A disturbingly appetizing smell wafted up through the late afternoon air, mixing in with the general smells of the city. A cry was taken up, warning of a fire, rousing the citizenry to action.
A wall of dancing flame blocked escape from the building, yet some members of the Bulls braved the unnatural fire. The black chaos ate at their flesh, and they screamed in agony as raw pain stopped them from taking further steps to freedom. Their bodies twisted into new forms and shapes, melting like wax as they burned.
A few of the more delicate members of the frightened crowd began to vomit at the sight. Humanity at its finest.
The people of Al-Lazar cared little for the foreigners, but they did care for potential damage to the neighboring buildings. Mages with the gift of Water began to blast great torrents over the building, but even their magic failed to quench the thirsty flames. I saw an elderly dwarven mage tug at his long beard, panicked at their lack of progress, screaming at his fellow mages to greater effort. It seemed that Larynda had grown too skilled in the ways of Water for such minor magic to work against her spells.
The wooden box began to rattle signalling that we were done here. “Let’s go Gil… I… I’ve seen enough,” Larynda said weakly. “Let’s just go.”
I ruffled her hair as I had done so when she was a child, hoping that it would give her some form of comfort. She shied away at first but tolerated my sign of affection.
Regretting that I couldn't harvest more experience, I took one last look at the burning building. My eyes were probably deceiving me, but I fancied I saw Beastkin with long serpentine tails cavorting in the flaming bowels of the warehouse. It couldn't be, yet I imagined hearing a chittering sound teasing at my consciousness.
Somehow, I earned another point of experience. It almost felt like an insult. However, deciding not to dwell on it, I shrugged and quickly opened the wooden box. I would have killed for a map and quest markers. Shaking my head, I led Larynda out of the area toward our next target.
The screams of the dying followed us, hounding us and forcing us to quicken our pace as we walked away out of earshot. Surprisingly, the girl seemed calmer, her resolve firming as we left the area.
“Where are we going next? The next one is on me,” I inquired casually, hoping to lighten the mood as I opened the box again.
Without hesitation, Larynda touched the bony digit, her pointy ears twitching—the only sign of any discomfort.
She fidgeted uncomfortably, her face blushing a dull pink. “I knew… I knew it… we go to the Flower Quarter. The spirits speak of a place known as the Snake’s Songbird. But Gil, there is one thing you have to promise me, okay? I used that word right, right?”
“Yes, you used the word okay correctly. Not that it's the important thing right now,” I replied a tad sarcastically.
She almost withered there and then. I almost slapped myself on the forehead. Remember, be kind, I reminded myself.
“I mean, you used it correctly, but we really must focus on something else right now. The greater good, remember?” I corrected myself, striving to sound warm and understanding.
Already annoyed at missing an opportunity for more experience, I found my patience wearing thin. What was the damn girl being coy about now? Why couldn’t the people of this world be more direct in their language?