She stood at the balcony, robed in the magnificent garb that the High Mage always wore. Golden and silver filigree lined the hem of her raiment, while various patterns sewn into the fabric adorned the otherwise boring outfit. On her head sat a crown of silver and bronze; at its center, just beyond the forehead, stood a diamond shaped casting that held a powerful supernal jewel, a focus for casting magic. She did not need a staff with this legendary item, built by herself.
The purpose of a focus was to receive the damage the mage would otherwise endure during a failed casting of a spell. This was done by casting the spell through the focus, thus tethering the spell to it, allowing any backlash from spell failure to travel through the tether towards the focus instead of the mage. Although she was already too strong to need any focus, there were other uses for focuses: one was to be able to cast spells at a significant distance from a mage’s body, provided the focus was tethered to the mage's soul. This tether was obviously separate from the tether that connected the spell to the focus, or else a retaliation from a spell failure might still creep towards the mage.
But really, this focus of hers was a symbol as well as a tool. A symbol that she was only next to the King in terms of authority, and even more powerful than the king in terms of magic. A little secret… actually, this focus is tethered to numerous focuses she had scattered all throughout the capital, and in the off chance of an invasion or emergency, she could use these focuses through the focus on her head to cast powerful spells. Nowhere in the city was safe for her enemies. It was a rather clever way to monitor and protect the city. To be frank, scattering the focuses were easy business. She merely had to create various magical items necessary for daily life that she sold through legal mercantile avenues, allowing them to scatter towards households, businesses and buildings.
She breathed in, feeling the thick ambient mana suffuse her lungs and her body. Looking at the towering buildings toward the distance, a mix of arcane wooden-like structures and the more modern silver bricks that allowed their civilization to erect buildings as tall as seven-eight-nine meters, she smiled with content. She was filled with gratitude at having been given the chance to climb the path of magic, eventually reaching a peak beyond anyone had ever reached before at a million jiggs of mana. She had lived her childhood as a lowly orphan, before the King took her in and trained her in the path of magic. She couldn't help but smile at the kindness of the King.
Enough of that reminiscing. A month from now, she would start her journey to do the impossible. She would be rewinding time while retaining her memories. An impossible task one might think. But she would not be rewinding the time for the whole universe, only for their world. How would she be able to do this? Simple, through the once in a hundred thousand years expulsion of pure mana from the singular Nexus that connected all ley lines of the world. She reached into her pocket and pulled a necklace with a pendant shaped like a dodecahedron. Its faces were transparent, showing a silver glow at its core.
This item was simply ranked as legendary, but combined with the once in ages event, it would become a true epic item. More powerful than any ever seen in the world. She hoped that by going back a hundred and sixty four years in the past, when she was just fifteen, she could race through the path of magic and reach the pinnacle at the age of twenty eight, far faster than her previous record, in which she reached the peak at the age of a hundred. Doing that would establish their little kingdom as a powerhouse, thereby avoiding the three unnecessary wars they had experienced at the hands of invaders and giving more room for trade, enriching their economy and helping those in the periphery improve their living standards. She pocketed back the necklace and gritted her teeth. She only had one attempt at this, once she had finished rewinding time, she could not redo it again, not for another hundred thousand years, which no matter how long her life extended thanks to mana, she would still never live to see.
She slowly turned her back towards the view of the city and walked towards the center of her room located at the top of the mage tower. An incantation of the mystical language did not leave her lips, yet magic nevertheless occured as she was swept away by some unknown force towards a destination she had already marked. It's a wonder how she could perform teleportation without incantations for less expert eyes, but to those who had tasted power, instant incantation within the mind was possible. She arrived at a hall surrounded by elven guards, while a heavily embellished chair, at the top of a dais north of the hall, was occupied by a thickly bearded man, his pointy ears glistening somewhat from the orange rays of the setting sun. She immediately bent down in genuflection.
“My child,” the man bellowed, resting his chin on two clasped hands supported by elbows on either side of the armrests. “You have news for me?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the elven woman replied, her head bowed deeply. “I requested an audience for a matter of grave importance. It will determine the present as well as future of our country.”
“Rise,” the king said. “No need for formalities, Sapphire.”
Sapphire stood up and looked at the king amicably.
“I have found a way to erase the three invasions that have left us weakened from the annals of history.”
The king raised an eyebrow at her claim. “I don't suppose you can rewrite history?”
“I can't, but I have something better. I plan to rewind time.”
The king's eyes widened in disbelief. “Surely there is no such aspect for magic like that, the time aspect is a myth!”
“Correct, My King, but the reason why it is so is because we’ve been looking at the time aspect from a different perspective. Time flows for everything, even for the tiniest insects. Instead of thinking of time as an impossible force moving in one direction, we must think of it as an accumulation of ‘memories’, which we can harness from a single specific thing. If a rock rolls on a hill and lands at the bottom, there is memory which we can use to trace back the events. Memories such as particular soils that have been smeared on the rock but got stuck in its roughness, cracks created by its rolling, shifting in the soil that shows obviously the path that the rock may have taken.”
The King frowned at her claims, he seemed somewhat hesitant and unsure. But Sapphire was determined to get his blessing, which wasn't difficult for her to get since she had by far made their little country stronger and stronger by the years, back to its previous might; in fact, her existence alone is one of the deterrents that had prevented neighboring countries from taking more land from them.
“Let's just suppose that you're right,” the King said, stroking his short silvery beard. “Surely these ‘memories’ you're talking about become less accurate the more time passes, no? How can you rewind time after so long?”
“Oh but there is a specific source of memory that is always perfect,” Sapphire said, flashing a confident grin. “Mana. It is the single most accurate source of memory; this ‘memory’ I call the time aspect. Insignificant for creatures such as us but for a whole planet suffused in deep and thick mana? Entirely possible.”
The king caught on, on what Sapphire was trying to say and his eyes widened in realization.
“You mean to harness the mana of the world and extract its memory. You mean to… to harness the Nexus!”
“Exactly,” Sapphire beamed the king with a beautiful smile.
“That’s some news you have for me,” the king said, laughing minutely. “Very well. You would be doing the impossible child, I hope you're prepared. Do you realize the dangers—of your theory failing or standing face to face with a monster you can't overcome?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The king sighed in defeat.
“I accept your determination. So far my child, you have never led this nation astray. I'll take the gamble. What do you need from me?”
***
It was dark, and the guild's dim lighting illuminated the countenance of a buff and stout dwarf with dark silvery skin who sat at the guild's bar, drinking liquor. At his side, a boisterous young elf practically shouted to his companion as he boasted that he’d get SS+-6 for sure.
The gruff dwarf scoffed inwardly at the boast, such a lanky and pitiful elf wasn't worthy of such a task, not that he was worthy either. He was here not because he needed a job, and since his wife was a well known and successful local artisan, she made enough money for both of them anyway. No, he was here to earn money for his drinking habits, using his wife's money didn't sit right with him. Some part of him wished that he could exercise a few sore muscles against an opponent, but that kind of life was long behind him, not when… he shook his head. He dared not to push those thoughts back on the surface of his mind. He may have changed, but he was not a changed man.
“Old man!” Aesure called from behind the counter. Such a young and promising elf, stuck serving drinks and liquor to ungrateful adventurers. Last time he checked he was still nineteen and yet he already had such a powerful aura, probably on the cusp of reaching three hundred jiggs of mana. “Wanna take on SS+-6?”
“Not interested,” he garbled, “and shut your jabbering trap will ya, I'm not that old.”
Aesure smiled, “Whatever you say,” he said. “Old man,” he winked at him, drawling that last bit. “Anyway, with your strength, you'd win the bidding for sure.”
“Haven't you heard,” Rodric scoffed. “I'm odd-jobs Rodric, I only do odd jobs. You want your cat cleaned? I'm the man for the job.”
“But,” Aesure leaned in closer. “The request is from the High Mage herself, the most powerful elf in all the world. You sure aren’t interested?” he eyed him with amiable disbelief. “That one thousand shackal reward could surely buy you years worth of ale.”
“A pint of ale's just thirty tushackalie, I can make do with odd jobs.”
“Whatever you say, Old man. But I still think it's worth the shot.”
“Again, not interested.”
After their conversation ended, Rodric continued to order more ale, and when he had his fill he went home, tipsy and staggering on the streets. Once he went inside his house a familiar silhoutte greeted him, sitting on a rocking chair in the living room. When he turned on the lights, he was shocked to see his wife still widely awake and frowning.
Oh this is bad, he thought.
“Went off drinking again?”
“You know why I drink, woman.”
“I did not marry a drunkard! I married an idiot who saved me from the fangs of a monster!”
“Well, not so heroic now, am I? Why be surprised, I did tell you that, didn't I? Saving you was just happenstance.”
“No, this can't go on,” she said, eyeing him with worry and irritation. “Sit down.”
Rodric didn't know what kind of game she was playing but he sat down, not wanting to make a mountain out of a molehill. Then she handed him a paper along with a thumb-print scanner which would scan and store his power status. These items where used whenever a specific request from the adventurers guild required a form of bidding. The highest bidder being the one whose abilities fit the requirements the most. What was she trying to do, make him bid on a monster-nest-subjugation quest?
“You know I don't take this kind of requests, woman. What are you trying to pull?” Though he was drunk, it wasn't too much that he'd not understand what his wife was making him do.
“Please,” the earlier bravado that her wife showed ceded to a now desperate and pleading tone. “Rody, I can't take seeing you like this all the time. At least do this for me.”
Seeing his wife entreat him, a pang of guilt struck Rodric’s heart. But he couldn't do it, not when…. His wife looked him dead in the eye, determination moving him to act.
“Alright,” he relented. “I'll give this a shot. For your sake.” He pressed his thumb on the scanner, and a fluid-like substance flew out of the device and coagulated in the air to form symbols in the country's native language.
Name: Rodric Amond
Mana: 300,127 jiggs
Misc.: Instantaneous Enchanting lvl 1,990
The fluid then flew back into the item, no doubt recording his power status.
“Now what am I suppose to write?”
His wife breathed a sigh of relief.
“Write about your experience on Monstrum.”
A rush of blood raced towards his face, making it redder than it already was. This woman, she dared trick him into agreeing to the very thing he avoided? He stood up, fuming with rage.
“This is SS+-6!” He exclaimed, unrelenting. “You know it's the very reason why we're even arguing about this. I-I can't go back there!”
“Calm down will you,” she said. “You're an adult, yet your childishness has been unbearable. You keep drinking all your money away, wasting your body's health and your mind's acuity, and for what? Just so you can keep wallowing in guilt, hoping that the act of wallowing itself will acquit you of your crime?”
“Shut up you whore!” he exclaimed, reason awashed in liquor's tantalizing hold. “You're right. Wallowing doesn't acquit me of my guilt but at least it eases the pain! You ungrateful piece of….”
A hard slap woke him up from the liquor-induced stupor. It hurt as hell, but he gritted his teeth, ready to bear it at her in contempt.
It had taken them the whole night before his wife was finally able to convince him to take this chance at redemption, or whatever she had in her mind for him to do.
***
They were on a translucent disk that flew in the sky, but they would soon abandon it. The reason being that Monstrum had a distortion in its atmosphere that made it difficult to fly through, and even more impossible to teleport. Hence the only way through would be to fly towards one of the many outermost islands of the continent where civilization was alive despite the monsters, partially thanks to the countless adventurers who would rather risk dying amidst powerful monsters than play hero in their local dungeons that paid measly compared to what they could get from Monstrum. The distortion there was still strong enough that it acted as a shield against teleportation but stable enough to allow flight within its air-space.
Rodric, together with the High Mage and three very powerful elves stood atop this flying magical construct conjured by the High Mage herself. His eyebrows twitched a bit as he did not expect the sudden revelation the High Mage had exhumed to them from her secrets earlier. He believed he may have taken a wrong gamble. Sure, a part of him was excited to stretch his sore muscles again after so long and even venture towards the center of the continent, which he previously failed to do at a very heavy cost, but this was all under the premise that the High Mage was at her peak. Really, he shouldn't have let his wife talk him into doing this. Hearing that she could not access eighty percent of her mana due to it holding a kind of spell that was something… something…. Bah! He was too dumb to get all that gibberish, but the point was, the elf, stupid if he might say so himself, was limited to only 200,000 jiggs of her resources. That's a significant drop of power. Spells that could topple mountains would be out of the equation. This meant that their survival all rested in the hands of him and their other powerful companions.
He turned an oblique glance towards the High Mage and saw the youth in her face, probably because she had thousands of years left to live. He on the other hand was a few centuries close to the end of his life, but he was certain he was older than her, even more experienced, and right now, more powerful—perhaps. This might be offensive to the High Mage but he needed to make sure that she wouldn't be a liability.
Rodric walked very slowly towards where the High Mage was standing. He bowed his head with a greeting.
“Oh Great and Magnificent High Mage,” he announced. “May this lowly dwarf be allowed to exchange notes with Her Excellency?”
The High Mage smiled.
“Rodric the Shy. I know you very well, or at least what I have heard of you. You are quite famous among the adventurers. Drunkard and odd-jobs extraordinaire, but never a coward.” The High Mage looked at him with amusement and determination. Rodric visibly winced at being called brave, or at least the word coward but negated. He knew his past very well, and though the memories no longer lingered as strong in his head, he still did not take too kindly to being called the opposite of a coward.
“If you wish to test my skill then let us spar.”
Rodric and the High Mage walked to the opposite ends of the circular disk. A gust of air brushed Rodric's face. At first he thought the air came from opposite the direction their disk was traveling towards, just towards his right side. Then he realized that it was coming from the front. The High Mage had jumped in the blink of an eye ready to tackle down Rodric. Rodric, realizing his mistake, summoned his Instantaneous Enchanting and began altering his forearm. It melted into liquid metal and solidified into a shield. Normally body magic like this which altered or imbued magical effects to the caster's body would be ranked unique, but thanks to his race-exclusive skill, the difficulty was down to common. But the metallic nails that the High Mage had somehow imbued to her ordinary nails punched through, and Rodric grimaced in pain. Though her hand did not completely push through the defense, nonetheless having nails pierce through his shield, which was still part of his body hurt a bit.
Rodric swung his shield with all his strength to the side, flinging the High Mage with it. The High Mage let go of his shield and seemingly dropped to his right. Rodric returned his forearm back to its original form. Though wounds were not visible on his forearm, because the construct earlier was more mana than dwarven flesh, pangs of pain still reverberated from it. He brushed it with his other hand. The High Mage then summoned shards of ice in the air and flung it to Rodric. He dodged it quite skillfully. He wondered why she would resort to such easy tactics when he realized that the ice, once they had passed by him, reversed their direction and hit his back, piercing through his silvery skin. Wounds like these were really small and insignificant considering they had a powerful healer with them so this was still within the standard sparring bounds.
Immediately, Rodric jumped from his position and swung his right foot towards the High Mage, the foot disfigured and formed into a gigantic hammer but it stopped just an inch from the elf's face, hitting a sort of barrier that rippled outward from the strike. The High Mage smiled and struck a palm strike to Rodric's chest, sending him backward a few paces and on his back. Rodric quickly stood up, unless he wanted to give his opponent time to retaliate.
Red dots in the air, atop each of Rodric's hands, grew to form orbs of flame. They flew in unison as Rodric swung his two beefy arms towards the High Mage. The elf widened her arms, summoning a force field. The flames flickered out as it hit the surface of her shield, but that was merely distraction as he teleported behind her. But before he could land a hit, a fist was hurtling down towards his face. A backhanded strike redirected her fist as he prepared to launch one of his own.
Rodric and the High Mage exchanged strikes one after another, a series of blocks redirected the other, then the other would retaliate with their own strike but it would similarly be parried to the side or to a more guarded part of the body. But clearly, anyone watching would know Rodric was barely holding on. It was the same with spellcraft. Both would sometimes separate and fling spells after spells towards one another. But more of Rodrics's spells were getting blocked or effaced. Rodric was worse for wear; his spells were more powerful considering he had access to more mana, but the High Mage's spells were more creative, turning Rodric's strengths against him. Surely the High Mage's repertoire of spells was more varied and potent.
As the spell-slinging died down, the High Mage teleported behind Rodric. It was the same tactic he had employed earlier, but quicker, clearly the High Mage's mana control was greater than his. But it wasn't quick enough, he flung a fist, glowing with raw energy towards the High Mage when… his fist went through. Then a disabling palm strike hit him in the head, leaving him unconscious.
***
When Rodric came to, he found himself lying on a hard bed; certainly not what he was used to but manageable. When he turned his head to the right, he saw an elf looking at him with a befuddled look. Very young, probably still within two-digit years of his life. Considering the average elf reached three hundred and fifty thousand jiggs of mana, the cub still had centuries of life left to live.
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Seeing him awaken, the elf began to huff, somewhat coy but managed to finally speak the words he'd been trying to get out.
“Y-you were ferocious! I've never seen anyone go toe to toe with the High Mage like that. I would have never even thought of fighting her even while—”
The elf continued on and on, praising how admirable Rodric's attempt to one-up the strongest elf alive. There's the honey and up next should be the poison, or something like that. The elf was obviously buttering him up before punching him with something offensive, or at least something the elf thought might offend him. Rodric did not like these petty obsequious attempts at evading the heart of the matter.
“What do you want, boy?” The words came out gruff and annoyed, probably because he was, as all male dwarves were inclined to, at least in his experience. But the last thing he was aiming for was to chase the young buck away. He sighed. “Look, I don't mean to be irritable at you, what I mean is, you must want something from me don't you? It's better to just say it than beat around the bush, don't you think?”
“Oh,” the elf squawked, “Of course! Pardon my chatter.” The elf wriggled in his seat, probably unsure how to break open the matter to him. But then he continued. “You see, while healing you I noticed something weird about your body. This is my first time seeing a dwarf, let alone healing one so it was a bit of a shock.”
“What do you mean exactly?”
“I mean,” the elf squirmed in his seat. “Are you really alive or a product of some necromancy?”
Rodric stared at him, bemused. “I'm breathing, aren't I? Last time I checked the undead couldn't breathe.”
“Yes that's true…,” the elf held a breath, about to explain more about his confusion. So Rodric waited patiently until…. “Your cells… they have moving parts as all cells do, but their movement is not fueled by any organic processes, it's as if mana is moving them directly. In fact your cells aren't organic at all!”
Realization dawned on Rodric and he guffawed. “Ah! That's what you mean!” He wiped the bead of tears that formed in his eyes. “This is what's called IronFlesh, lad. It comes with the race-specific skill all dwarves have, you're familiar with that, yes?”
The elf nodded.
“You see, enchanting, which imbues special magical properties on a thing, only works for non-living objects. That's why dwarves have evolved to develop non-living cells that form the basis for IronFlesh. Basically means tougher flesh overall, though not as tough as dragons, and a flesh that Instantaneous Enchanting can work on.”
“Oh I see…” the elf pondered for a while.
“Do they not teach you these things in school?”
“Well no,” the elf weakly smiled. “I never went to any. I had a master who taught me healing, and eventually her investment in me bloomed and I became a very powerful healer, but she never taught me anything about the world.”
“I see,” Rodric said, staring blankly towards the ceiling, pondering. Then his head jerked to the side. “How old are you exactly? And how much mana?”
“Sixty years old and four hundred thousand jiggs of mana.”
“Damn…” Rodric couldn't help but let out. Scratch his earlier assumptions, he had two milleniums left to live. “You're so young for your level, you must be a prodigy.”
“Not exactly.” The elf scratched his cheek, blushing. “By the time the current High Mage was my age, she already had a hundred thousand more mana than me.”
“Don't write yourself off, boy,” Rodric assured him. “Comparing yourself to the High Mage is like comparing a tree to the sun, perfectly two different things that serve two different purposes. Plus, the High Mage isn’t really normal, her powers are equaled only by two others, and they're both more than a thousand years old.”
“Thanks for the compliment. I'll keep that in mind.”
***
Rodric stood on the prow, looking at the horizon that the massive Monstrum continent blot out in the distance. They were sailing towards the continent because, well, there was no other way in or out. They rode a boat that ferried adventurers to and fro the continent. Their boat had about ten passengers on board, including five of him and the rest of his companions. A sizable crew of six managed the deck, the steering, and the mana engines that propelled them towards their destination. Most of the adventurers with them were hushingly whispering amongst each other. A little bit of Instantaneous Enchanting and he could hear their conversation.
“It's really her.”
“So it means it's true then?”
“What's true? Why did no one fill me in about it?”
“Oh shush, some guards from the castle said he definitely was sure that the High Mage is planning on casting a world-defying spell, probably an epic-level spell….”
Their conversation continued but Rodric cut off his spying. So apparently she was here for a “world-defying” reason, and maybe that's the reason for why she had had the majority of her mana locked on a single spell. He wondered what sort of spell would need too long a casting time that she had to start casting it before even starting their journey. But who cares, well, those adventurers probably do, but him? It wasn't close to any of his worries. What worried him most was survival. He knew now that the High Mage could pull her own weight despite being shackled by her own devices, but the monsters close to the heart of the continent… he knew they were more than their current strength could handle.
A tug on the boat woke him up from his reverie and he could feel the whole thing tilt to the side, before he could even react the captain of the ship screamed at the top of his lungs.
“Kraken! Kraken's tipping us to starboard.”
Monsters attacking ships weren't unusual, but they weren't too common either that he would not be surprised. Large tentackles started wrapping around the body of their ship and a great battle commenced…..
***
Rodric tottered on the shore wet and tired, battling that kraken had taken a toll on him. All five adventurers with them and the crew of the ship got swallowed whole by the monster, while the ship got ravaged to pieces. Thankfully, he deformed his body to an aquatic form just in time, allowing him to fight the monster while underwater. His elven companions were each protected by a barrier that allowed them to stay afloat on the sea, but apparently had no capacities to fight underwater. Fortunately, the High Mage was able to cast a barrier that traced her form all over her body that allowed her to breathe while submerged in water, and with boosts of mana to accelerate her limbs, she was able to fight on par with him against the kraken.
They weren't able to take it down though, its magical resistance too high for them to undermine. Given a few more hours, they could have probably killed it but that wasn't the intent. They simply needed to survive, so driving it away, which was much easier and mana-cost effective, was the only best solution. Of all the sea beasts a kraken was a rare species, but their rarity meant they were also that much stronger. It took a team of five, highly trained navy sailors, masters at aquatic battle, to take down one in his homeland. But it was over, the ordeal had passed by without taking one of their companions. But those adventurers and sailors… Rodric bowed his head, they were unlucky but that did not mean they were less deserving of mourning.
“Are you okay?” The High Mage asked, walking at his side.
“As if nothing has happened,” he said, letting out a weak chuckle.
The elf smiled at him, surely an amiable gesture, and now that he got a good look at her, she looked less beat than him, in fact she looked pristine. He restrained a frown. Just how powerful was she, considering she could shrug off the battle as if, well, nothing had happened? He said that as a hyperbole for himself, but for her? It was the real deal.
They trekked the continent for days, for weeks, and for months, but thanks to body magic they were able to storm through the terrain without much hassle. What would have taken years to traverse, they estimated would take only a year and a quarter, that is without them stumbling into monsters. With monsters in the equation, that time probably stretched to a little more than a year and a half.
One particularly tormenting experience was when they encountered a swarm of High Bees. Rodric and the rest had had a hard time fending off the slew of savages that sought to sting them to death. It took the five of them all their combined strength to form an impervious force field for nearly three days, all of them surviving only through sustenance from their mana, until the bees lost interest and flew off, no doubt going back to their nest. One elf from the group lost a lot of muscle, sunken cheeks plastered all over his face, all because he did not have mana sustenance perfected.
A year and two months later they were now very close to the Nexus, with a little more push and they'd arrive earlier than their estimate. So they decided to take a breather and take a longer time on camp. A day passed and all four elves slept in their tents except for Rodric who stayed later than usual.
He fed a stick into the fire, and the fire crackled in response as if it were eerily happy to blaze in the darkness. Rodric shook his head; the days prior had been mentally and physically taxing to his health. And at some point he could swear he had seen her at the edge of the forest. Was it possible that she… lived? He shook his head again, what was he even thinking about, who could ever survive that? And if she had, her condition couldn’t have allowed her to live this long.
Something touched his shoulder and he jerked, ready to launch into a fight. Instead of a monster, the placating countenance of the High Mage smiled at him. Smiling back, he relaxed his tensed muscles. Soon after, the High Mage sat on the log on the other side of the fire.
“Couldn't sleep?” she asked, feeding wood into the fire.
“Aye,” he replied, grinning sheepishly. “It has been two hundred years since I last braved these wilds and some ghosts still haunt me.”
The High Mage looked into the distance as if pondering, and silence dominated the air for a moment.
“You know, growing up, the king has always told me that ghosts prey on the guilty….”
The High Mage, actually… Sapphire—Rodric had come to call her by her name now—threw a rock into the distance.
“...Are you?” She momentarily met his gaze. Her eyes were full of purpose, which inspired admiration within Rodric.
“I suppose,” he replied, looking down. “Did he ever, you know, tell you how to get rid of it?”
This time, Sapphire chuckled quietly.
“All he ever said was that you can't.”
“Then you just have to live with a haunted life?”
“Not exactly,” Sapphire said, picking up a stick and starting to draw on sand. “He said that the moment you're no longer scared of the ghost, it would be as if it's never there.”
Her words strung on the cords of Rodric's old and beaten heart, and he was curious where her train of logic would lead. He lifted his head, looking at her.
“How do you….” Rodric paused for a moment, unsure how to put his question into words. “...Stop being afraid?”
Sapphire put down the stick she was holding and dusted her hands.
“Simple,” she looked Rodric dead in the eyes. “When the ghost's accusatory gravity bears down on you, you face it with a smile and say, ‘True’, and then you turn your back and walk forward. Or at least, that's how the king always put it.”
Rodric guffawed. The simplicty of the idea, and the difficulty of putting it into practice inspired foolish mirth to bubble from his heart.
“For a young lass,” he said with bated laughter. “You sure have some wisdom.”
“Not mine. The king's.”
“Well anyway, I suppose I'd have to tell you, don't I?”
“Depends on you,” Sapphire said, smiling at him. “I did notice how your write-up didn't have an ending.”
“Yes well, it was a long time ago, lass. I guess since this is your quest, you deserve to know about my past. I was a royal guard in a far-flung dwarven country then. I was happy; I served my king's daughter as a body-guard. She grew up to be a fine lass just like you. She had the prettiest of smiles and the most boisterous of personality, but all of that hid a dark secret. The little mistress had a physique that made it impossible for her to advance her Instantaneous Enchanting beyond the two hundredth level. This news broke her. For a lass dreaming to be an adventurer it was a most bitter pill to swallow. She cried in secret and smiled in the sun, two antithetical parts of her that warred for her mind. But she grew up reading history and myths. One particular myth, which she scholarly traced to find some historical grounds, was the myth of the Zephyr tree. It is said that a dew-drop from its leaves contains essence that can help a mage replenish his body and remove any and all blockage that prevents him from pushing through to the next level. However….”
“It can only be found near the Nexus,” Sapphire put in, sympathy written all over her face as she could more or less predict the direction of the story. “I'm familiar.”
Rodric stretched his mouth awkwardly to mimic a smile, but his attempt was barely successful.
“Right,” he said, somberness now taking over his earlier mirth. “She asked her father if she could be escorted towards the heart of Monstrum, but her father deemed it too dangerous for her, and risking so much for an uncertain reward was too high a stake to bet on. After his prohibition, the young lady became distant to everyone, even her father, and at nights when I guarded the door to her room, I would often hear the sniffles of a young lass who was denied her dream for adventure. And that was when I decided to gamble it all for her.”
“You took her didn't you? You disobeyed the king and personally escorted her.”
“That I did. I was not much of a warrior then, and I'm not saying I'm more of a warrior now, but I believed, in my arrogance and pity for her, that the best course of action was to take her. So one day, we snuck out of the castle together. I carried her as we flew to the nearest outlying Monstrum island where a paltry imitation of civilization prospered. Arriving on the main continent on a boat, we started our trek. Three years later we were almost half-way to the continent's heart. It took us that long because the mistress couldn't use physical enhancement at her current level back then. I managed to drive away or kill monsters that kept attacking us on the way. But at this point I wasn't ready for what I was about to face. We encountered a stage-9 minotaur blocking our path, now hearsay all told that stage-9 monsters could only be found at the heart of Monstrum where mana was the thickest. But this one was different.”
“Probably a straggler,” Sapphire put in, throwing a bunch of dry twigs into the fire, as it now began to dissipate. “Sometimes when high level monsters fight for territory, the weakest at their level often get pushed outward, making them claim territories where their kind wouldn't usually inhabit.”
“I guess it was,” Rodric said, as he wiped a bubble of tears in his left eye. “Anyway, I fought the monster as hard as I could but I could not win. Lying on the dirt and wounded, I saw the behemoth lift up my mistress. I was trembling, I was scared for my dear life. Being a guard, I did have the training, but being from a relatively peaceful country, I never got used to the idea of death. I wanted to save her, but my cowardice took over me. I knew that if I ran away from the monster, while it was preoccupied with the mistress, it wouldn't even attempt at chasing after me.”
“So you left her and ran away.”
Rodric’s eyes welled with tears, and when he couldn't hold it in anymore, he cried. Sobbing, he looked at Sapphire square in the eyes.
“I left her alone to die, I ran away even as I heard her cries of help. I left her to die! What a ghost that haunts me!”
“And that's how you got banished?”
“Not yet,” he said, sniveling and wiping tears. “I returned to my country, and the guilt haunted me still, so I told the king the whole story. Every dwarf belonging to any dwarven country has a jewel attached on their forehead as proof of character and citizenship, it is attached by some esoteric ritual and it is removed by another ritual. And the king took it from me when he banished me. Though it did not mean I was banished from every dwarven country, a jeweless dwarf can only live a life of shame in a country ruled by dwarves, it's basically just the same as being banished from them. So I fled, came to know my current wife, and settled somewhere where my past could not haunt me, but it still does.”
Rodric cried, he poured all the pent up regret and guilt into a one big sob.
“It's okay,” Sapphire said in a comforting gesture. “Ghosts prey on the guilty, but they flee from the humbled—as the king would often say. If there's anything I could say, it is that you must now walk a different path to redeem what was lost.”
“Perhaps,” Rodric managed a smile amidst the onslaught of tears. “Thank you by the way, for listening.”
“And thank you for helping us get through this monstrous wastes while carrying such heavy burdens.” Sapphire smiled affectionately.
After the bursts of emotions, their discussion veered towards more mundane matters, the tension ebbing away, and mirth lapping in. A while later, they each entered their tents and went to sleep.
***
Something was wrong. Sapphire swept her gaze across the wasteland, looking for something. The few trees that dotted the area had plenty of its leaves wrung off their stem, as if a stampede or a battle of great proportions had occurred here. But there wasn't a single monster or anthropoid corpse. And the most worrisome detail of all was the eerie silence. No roars in the distance, no howls, no growls, no shrieks—nothing. This close to the Nexus, one would expect to see a single stage-9 monster, but so far, everything had been uneventful.
“Too easy.” The thought escaped her and her companions nodded in agreement.
“Aye,” the rotund Rodric blurted out, his beefy arms crossed on his chest. “I'd have to agree with you there. Something's up.”
I hope the reason for all this means my plan is working. This time, she kept her thoughts to herself.
They continued running nonetheless. They were now only a day's trip away from the Nexus, and though the suspicion that overcame them didn't prevent them from pushing on, they were nevertheless turning their heads or closing their eyes to listen in for any signs of a monster. But nothing—they didn't see or hear anything.
It was when they reached the bottomless well of the Nexus did Sapphire see anything. A lone man stood just at the edge of the endless abyss; he wore loose-fitting clothes on his torso and his legs were covered with tough lizard skin. On closer inspection, potrusions like sharp bones lined his posterior forearms. At that moment she recognized who it was. Just as she had hoped he would come; she intentionally leaked parts of their plan to lure him here—the greatest dragon alive. He had something which she needed for her spell. Crossing her fingers, she hoped he brought it with him. If she succeeded, time would rewind and deaths would be restored, but if she failed, it would mean throwing away her life and the lives of her companions.
Her companions grinded to a halt together with her, no doubt noticing the same man she noticed.
“It can't be!” The youngest of them exclaimed. “Is that who I think it is?”
The figure, hearing them, turned around to look at them. They were still at a significant distance from him, so it was a shock when the youngest of them suddenly lost his head, throwing flesh and gore all around them. Sapphire instantly cast a spell to speed up the processing speed of her brain, just enough for her to see that Dracoy was pivoting towards her. She could see where he planned to strike. She immediately gathered mana towards her stomach and cast a force shield. Once Dracoy's fist landed, the shield rippled outward from the hit, indicating how the force from the strike was absorbed and dissipated towards the air as heat or a gust of wind. However, despite the nature of her force-shield, she still skidded a few distances. If only the fullness of her mana control and mana weren't locked on her world-defying spell, then maybe she could fight on par with him.
She looked to where her companions were, and saw them standing, frozen in place, as Dracoy swept his gaze towards them.
“You brought bugs,” he said, now turning his attention towards her, “to a battle of elephants.”
She signaled to the others to stand down and not lift a finger. If she played this right, she could focus Dracoy's attention solely on her. A sidelong glance to his right wrist and she confirmed the bangle that wrapped around it. A focus, not a mage focus but a literal focus, something that could focus immeasurable amounts of mana into a single point. Such an item was built by the ancients. Although the ancients lacked the variety and flexibility that modern magic offered, their mana focuses were second to none. This one in particular was designed as if to be used to harness the very sun itself, or in this case, the Nexus.
“I'm sure,” Sapphire began, holding her head high, “You wouldn't pay attention to ‘bugs’, would you?” She gave him a wink.
She could see the visible irritation on the scaly skin of his face, which contorted into a frown.
“I killed….” Dracoy started, looking at the elven corpse. Seeing the corpse, Sapphire whispered out a silent prayer on his behalf. “...This one because I thought he was you, long hair and all.” A savage grin cracked on Dracoy's face. “Don’t insult me. Bugs are nothing to a pristine beast such as myself. They may live, but you—you will die here. Whatever you're trying to do, I won't let you. The Anxiom Empire will remain the strongest nation in the world, and I will not suffer you to undermine it.”
Good, Dracoy fell for her taunt; although it did not guarantee the survival of her companions if ever he got to kill her, but that gave her the opening to take the bangle.
After finishing his declaration Dracoy blurred, and it took every ounce of brain power from Sapphire to see him dash towards her. A swinging claw winnowed the air directly above her, as he sought to cleave her in half. But she was quick enough to be able to sidestep, missing the attack. Dracoy's claw stopped midway the place where she had been standing and the shockwave formed a crater on the ground and blew her a distance to the side. She held her side, rubbing it to assuage the pangs of pain that screamed to her brain. The trepid twanging of her heart pumped so much blood to her system that she remained highly alert, and the adrenaline that accompanied it meant she was just as strong. But without her full power, she stood no chance.
Dracoy attacked her with unending ferocity, her physical enhancement and body acceleration spells barely able to keep up with his blows. Her force-shield was what kept her from dying from a single strike. During their exchanges, she noticed that Dracoy was holding back, probably in condescension to her meager showing of strength.
“Is that all you can do?” Dracoy screamed, his words barely intelligible to her hyper processing brain, due to the speed at which they both fought. She needed to find a way to extricate herself from this deadlock.
“There's more of it I'll tell you,” she replied. “But you'd have to wait and see.”
At that instant a claw pressed through her stomach, but instead of killing her, the hit merely phased through. It was a half-phase, allowing her right hand to slip around her hips and grab the bangle on Dracoy's wrist from the very claw that passed through her stomach. She expertly took it and jumped back, with Dracoy being none the wiser.
After her torso solidified she slipped the item into her blouse. Step one, check. Now, she only needed to slowly lead their battle towards the Nexus, and then activate her spell at exactly ten minutes from now. But Dracoy was relentless, his barbarity too huge a hill to surmount, she needed to….
The force-shield that defended her right shoulder shattered and some of the impact from the attack passed through, flinging her a wide distance from her previous spot. Her shoulder was broken, and she could not lift her right arm. This was bad.
Dracoy jumped from his position ready to strike her when… a manacle clamped down on one of Dracoy's feet, its chains tightening tautly to pin him down to the ground.
“Go!” Screamed Rodric from the distance, his hands deformed into chains and holding back Dracoy for a brief second. “I'll hold him back, do what you have to do!”
Dracoy turned towards his back and dashed towards that direction, with a fist hurtling towards the unsuspecting dwarf. She turned to the opposite direction and with all her strength, mana and body magic, sprinted as fast as she could. Rodric's sacrifice would not be in vain, time will rewind and he will be restored. She took her time-rewinding item and placed the bangle around its pendant, all expertly done through a hand aided by telekinesis. The silvery glow of the core welled up and flowed outward, swarming the bangle with a serene silver light, suspending it in the air around the pendant.
Utim retunas tictus ut rotatus bukwad. She intoned in her head, which meant: ‘Time rewind, tick and rotate backwards’. With the incantation being said, a flood of mana from her released and inundated the item, which all got sucked into the core. Then she threw it into the gigantic maw of the Nexus.
Five, four, three… a claw pierced her from behind and ended through the stomach, sending viscera and blood outwards. But a smile crept to her face as she breathed her last.
Suddenly, an outburst of mana exploded from the abyss, but instead of scattering, all of the energy flew towards the time-rewinding item, passing through the bangle that ringed it, then seemingly absorbed by the core of the dodecahedron. The item exploded in blinding light and was no more.