Time was moving in slow motion for Michael. Or at least, his perception had increased enough that everything seemed to be moving slowly. He saw the eruption of Spells gearing towards Kelunad, shooting outwards from the tip of Alex’s sword. It looked like a deluge of magic, a hodgepodge, not all one effect. And what had Alex said?
The Martials send their regards. Kelunad’s own faction turned against him?
Time enough to think about that later. Right now, Michael observed how the torrent of Spells flew, the intensity of it managing to pierce even the doors anti-magic field. It slammed into Kelunad and Michael dropped to the ground, the Spell that had been keeping him suspended dying out.
It worked?
The harsh light cleared and the air stopped trembling. The aftermath was gruesome. Narana was kneeling on the ground, hands fumbling with a potion. Alex lurched forward and kicked it out of her hands, but was kept back from doing anything else by his sudden need to vomit. All over Narana too, to add shame to misery.
Yet the most important element in this equation was Kelunad. Michael turned his eyes towards the orc, hoping against hope that he was downed or at least injured. He wasn’t. He had a few fresh wounds and the amulet on his neck glowed red, its shield long winked out of existence, but the orc looked more or less fine. He was grinning and staring at Alex.
With a nod, he turned around and continued his trip inside the room.
FUCK!
Nothing seemed to get him. It was like playing against an end-game opponent with just starting gear. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But it was what it was.
A sound attracted Michael’s gaze. It was Alex, done relieving the contents of is stomach, who was limping his was to him.
“That took more out of me than I thought it would.” He said, wincing.
Michael struggled to speak as Alex knelt beside him, but only shapeless sounds escaped his mouth.
“Hold on. Drink this.” He said, tilting a vial to his lips.
Now, Alex did just betray him. But then he betrayed Narana. So… that made him a good guy again?
Michael decided to take a leap of faith and swallowed. Within seconds, he regained mobility. And he felt his pulse racing again, felt rage. But as little time as they had, he still had to ask your questions.
“Why?” he croaked. “Why… this?”
“It’s not the usual Martial way, I’ll grant you that, but I’m not an usual Martial.” He laughed, self-aware. “Look, here’s what really going on. I was… bummed after our fight. I knew it wasn’t entirely your fault, but I was still mad at you.”
“You had every right to be.”
“Maybe.” He said, shrugging. “I think it was more because I got kicked out of the Martials than it was because of you beating me. I mean… I’m a Martial, it shouldn’t matter how someone defeats me, just that it happened. But… being a Martial means a lot to me. And I still think of myself as one. No matter what Kelunad says.”
“And you are. You’re a true Martial. What I did… I should have told Kelunad to fuck off. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. I mean, yes, you should have, but I know that the entire deal was a little delicate for you. Besides, I did go around your back with my ploy.” He grinned. “Even though it didn’t work.”
“Yeah. What… what happened?”
“In short? Narana found me, probably because I was thinking ill of everything. I think she has access to Spells that either read minds or intent. She offered to recruit me and that’s when all the pieces feel in place. The rumors around the academy, your strange behavior, Kelunad coming back into the stage… everything. So I said yes. And I acted as a double agent. On one hand, I helped Narana with false information and made sure I got to be here for the finale. On the other, I had the Martials whip up a one-use enchanted artifact. Throw all of our might behind it.”
“Then it’s true? The Martials are rebelling against Kelunad?”
“Yup. And when Narana heped me skip my exams, like I knew she would, I brought the sword with me. It was never meant to slay Kelunad, just to slow him down. But… yeah.”
Michael stood up and felt happier than before. The world was still going to shit, but at least his friend was by his side again. Small blessings.
“Right. You’ll have to tell it to me again later, since I have dozens of questions. You good for a fight?”
He looked pale and he was sweaty, but Alex still grinned.
“Only one way to-“
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
“|Mind Freeze|”
The young man toppled, a blank look on his face. Behind him, Naran was still kneeling, one hand outstretched and looking like she was about to faint.
“|Fire Bolt|” Michael cast instinctively.
His Spell hit her stomach, right where the sword came out and with a sizzling scream, she fainted.
“Shit.” Michael said and once again for good measure. “Shit!”
Alex was down, but he looked intact… physically. But Narana’s Spell didn’t sound harmful, only meant to take someone out of the equation. He hoped. The woman herself? Well, she was probably still bleeding, but Michael didn’t have the heart to care for her right now.
And Kelunad was already in the room.
Fuck me, I just had to stay and talk.
Michael started forwards. This was it. Help was coming, he had to believe that. But he also had to stall Kelunad.
Stall him. How the hell am I supposed to do that?
He passed the doors and felt none of the Class-ending effect, just the magic charged air around him. The room, however, was a different matter.
It wasn’t that large, compared to others in Gnosis. Cube-shaped, maybe a hundred feet per side. The wall, the floor and ceiling all covered in glowing glyphs. Like runes, but more fluid. Like Kelunad said, they didn’t feel harmful. But what did he know?
Still, he walked forwards. Because at the end of the room, right in front of a still Kelunad, lay the artifact.
It was… beautiful. And terrible. Michael had heard art connoisseurs describe paintings as such and he always thought them to be pretentious. Here and now, he felt like he could understand them. The artifact was certainly artful, looking fluid in places and solid in others. It looked to be moving too, streams of metal intertwining, exiting from one side of it and entering another. And for all it was fluid and artistic and mesmerizing, it was also strangely symmetric. A perfect mirror of itself, both to the sides and up and down. Watching it all, it looked like a large shimmering sphere, as tall again as Kelunad was, who has now risen and was hovering his hand before the artifact’s central component, the only part of it not looking like it was made of metal, solid or liquid.
A perfect glowing pearl of magic, the size of one’s hand.
“The wonders of the gnomes.” Kelunad rasped. “I have been trying to catch even the slightest whiff of magic from this artifact. In vain. To me, it looks no different from a piece of furniture. Yet in move and glows.”
“And only magic can make things move and glow?” Michael asked, stepping forwards.
Can’t stop him physically. Or magically. Might as well talk.
“We have |Mechanics|, if that is what you ask. Masters of gears and levers. The Dwarves hold many such Classes. And Goblins have even more unique classes, such as |Engineer| or |Technician|.”
“Goblins.” Michael repeated.
“You are not from this world, Michael. Tell me, does your own hold wonders such as this?”
He looked at the creation in front of him and wondered.
“No. Nothing at this level, at least that I’m aware off. But… we could probably make one. Not something that’s capable of… whatever this thing is capable off. Just one that looks like it.”
“Without magic.”
“Yes.”
The orc nodded.
“How?”
“Magnets? Ferromagnetic fluids, I guess. That’s… kind of like a fluid that has metal in it and can look like liquid metal, but isn’t actually metal. I… That wasn’t my field of expertise.”
Kelunad laughed slowly.
“But wait, isn’t this thing magic too? I’ve understood that gnomes used technology and magic.”
“Technology.” He repeated. “Perhaps. But it is better to say that they had reached the level where magic and this technology blend together.”
“There’s… a common point for the two?”
“That is what my instincts tell me. But it isn’t my field of expertise either.” He said amused.
Right.
“I can’t let you do this, Kelunad.”
“Yet you cannot stop me.”
“I- I call forth the boon you owe me. The favor.” Michael said, thinking fast. “I helped you. Even if I’m only at the start of my journey. You promised me a wish. This is it. My wish is for you to let me help you with your faction. Not this machine.”
Kelunad seemed to mull it over.
“You have helped. You’ve even confronted one you call friend, though it hurt you. And I have been pleasantly surprised that he has challenged me, at the end. The means he chose to do so are not my own, but the determination… yes. Perhaps I judged him too soon.”
“You did. Alex is a true Martial. And your faction needs help, not purging.”
“No.” Kelunad sighed. “I deny your request. I have longed think of this matter, Michael. Even if I do not see it perfectly clear, I know enough of what must be done.”
“You will forsake your honor.” Michael tried.
“My honor?” Kelunad laughed, arm still outstretched. “I have forsaken my people, my love, my friend and my faction. Nahlil, my former pupil, now looks at me in disgust. My children look at me with hidden fear. Alex’s actions… speak to that. What worth is my honor now? No, Michael. I will forsake honor too, if I must.”
“And then what will you have? What will you really achieve?”
“I will look at Gnosis and see its will rekindled. The fire burning. Ready for the war to come.”
“…war?”
The orc turned his head a bit, revealing a wry smile.
“Not for some time. And given your first wish, you may not even be here for it. But they will. And they will be prepared.”
“Wait! Uh, but why not tell Regitris of this? Whatever is coming, why not tell others?”
“Regitris is blinded by his own past. Scared of it. Ravena? She has not the heart for it and she has proved that in the past. The Artificers and the shadows? Fools and traitors. I had thought Agharal to be a possible ally, but… the blood covers all. I stand alone, Michael. But not for long.”
“Kelunad. Look. If you do this… do you even know what’s going to happen? What, you’re going to transform every mage in Gnosis into an unstoppable fighter? Give them Levels and Spells?”
“For an academy wide change? I do not believe even this artifact is capable of that. And I will not sacrifice my wish on myself either. No. What I will ask for is fire. Let those that have embers in their souls thrive and feed on the magic of those who do not. Let the string grow, unchained from the weak. That is my wish.”
“You… you’re gonna have every mage who’s warlike steal the magic of those who are not?” Michael asked, a cold sheen of sweat developing on his back.
“Steal? They will take and only if they deserve it.”
“And who gets to decide who deserves it?”
“You are right.” He said, after a second. “I will. This decision is not perfect. But I will make it even so.”
His hand moved and Michael screamed a desperate gambit. His last attempt.
“Can I help? Any way I can. Knowledge from home, things I can guess about the system, my link with Gnosis. Anything. Just… please. They’re all mages, even those you don’t respect. And magic means as much for them as it does for you.”
Erea, Micah, Bob, Alex. Laen, Quora, Mihli. Sinestra, Regitris, Narh. Everyone.
“That is why it hurts me, Michael. Believe this. And still, I must.”
The orc’s hand touched the orb of light and reality broke down.