Chapter 26 - Intervention
Magrath, Vanstead Dukedom of Augustein Year 995
Amara’s head pounded and her body ached in constant throbs that she couldn’t isolate to one location. They weren’t like stinging cuts that could be portioned off in her mind, because even if comparatively the dull ache was nothing compared to other things she’d felt, its constant presence made her grit her teeth. She heard something crack and realized she had landed on shattered glass. Without thinking, she dug her palms deeper into the ground and felt a sting as the fabric of the gloves finally tore. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on that sensation and pushing everything else away before opening them again.
Amara struggled to rise as the sounds of battle ensued. There were shouts and commands, breaking glass and fractured cement alongside snaps and cracks and sticky squelches accompanied by more screams.
Finally she managed to force herself to her feet again, and she felt something cold inside her bubble and bristle at the way her limbs shook, refusing to listen to her even when the pain wasn’t even that severe.
When she looked back up at the square, it was in chaos.
The first rank D Aberration remained beside the larger one, a constant black aura surrounding it. Every time someone tried to approach the main body of the second Aberration, that glow would surround them and freeze them in place, while if someone aimed for the first, the second one would block the attacks with those fleshy wings.
Amara’s eyes narrowed, noting how not everyone seemed to be equally affected by the Aberration’s magic. A few guards and watchmen were only slowed down, their own magic flaring in response. Isolde, she saw, was one of them.
If she wasn’t so focused on the fight, she would’ve been surprised at the sight of the woman. Her hair and clothes were more of a mess than she’d ever seen them, but what truly caught her off guard was the look of pure, unbridled anger in her expression. Her piercing eyes were filled with venom, and her lips were drawn back in a barely suppressed snarl that seemed to completely distort her facial features. Despite the circumstances, some part of Amara felt oddly satisfied to see yet another layer peeled back.
Isolde’s other remaining earring glowed, flickering slightly as the woman advanced forward. Amara could see her eyes glance over at it, how she slowed her pace as the ore neared depletion. She wasn’t the only one, either. Amara could see other glowing stones, embedded in weapons and armor or worn as jewelry, flashing. A few broke into shards as the fighters were forced to resort to using their personal reserves. The ore in the handle of the head guard’s sword wavered, and out of everyone there, he seemed to be the one most capable of moving against the Aberration’s magic.
Amara’s eyes zeroed in on where her axe was still embedded into the snail-like Aberration’s flesh. Judging from the fact that it hadn’t fallen out yet, it must be fairly deep. It would only need a shove to go all the way through.
Her gaze shifted to the active aura. She wouldn’t be able to get close enough without being frozen, and any projectiles, even the ones tossed with the head guard’s orange glow, were slowed down just enough to not be able to lodge the weapon deeper in, though not for lack of effort on some of the fighters’ parts.
Amara heard another crunch and shriek, but she ignored it. Hobbling forward and gritting her teeth as she forced her legs to move, she hurried over to the group as quickly as she could. She stumbled, breath coming in heavy pants, and caught herself on a piece of rubble. Walking would take too long. She swallowed down the stinging in her throat and yelled out as loudly as she could.
“Isolde!”
The woman spun around, her dark hair streaming behind her. Her eyes widened, and something briefly flashed through that gaze before it vanished into a hard calm that seemed all too easy to see through now that Amara had seen her real expression.
Isolde glanced back at the Aberration, ducking out of the way as another extension of the wings pulverized the center flowerbed. She moved over to Amara, spear still in hand.
“You’re alive,” she said, voice blunt and unreadable.
“Yeah, great.” Amara groaned, jerking her head in the direction of the Aberrations. “That thing’s using motion magic to stop projectiles and attacks, right?”
Isolde’s lips thinned, and she nodded.
“Okay, you know more about magic than I do, so tell me if this is possible. But if I combine one of my energy blasts with your motion magic, could that add enough force to get it through the thing’s aura?”
Before Isolde could respond, one of the wings swung in their direction. Amara cursed, bracing herself for a hit, but Isolde spun around, her spear just barely intercepting the attack as her shoes skid. Her earring flared icy blue, the same aura stilling the Aberration just enough for her to remain standing after the wings retracted.
“It’s a gamble,” Isolde breathed, sounding far more out of breath than she had when they’d been running from the Aberration and the Warped Forest in Penrith. The earring flickered, and Amara could see a few cracks beginning to form along its surface. “However, it also appears to be the best option we have.”
That was all the confirmation Amara needed. She dragged herself back up to her feet, stumbling over to grip a chunk of rubble nearby. It was largely flat, which would make it harder to throw, but she trusted Isolde to guide it in the right direction.
Amara felt her muscles screaming at her, vaguely aware of warm liquid trailing down her arms and back, but she ignored it and heaved the stone up. Isolde stood close by, spear raised in a parry as her eyes kept a watch on her.
Amara breathed, closing her eyes for a brief moment to pull at that well of magic constantly churning in her core. She could feel the way her body ached, her muscles practically screaming at her not to put anymore strain on them, but she kept going. Her markings climbed up, the fiery glow shining through the tears in the gloves.
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She took a step back, eyes trained on the Aberration, and then lunged forward, hurling the rubble with all her might as her magic flared in a burst of burning light.
Magic Reserves: 62,579 → 62,557 / 110,876
Maximum Output: 22
Variability: 1
A blue glow flashed behind her not a second later, quickly enveloping the stone as it jetted across the air and pushing it even faster. Isolde’s earring flashed, the cracks rising as the woman put all her focus on the stone.
Amara watched, not daring to breathe as it passed through the Aberration’s magic aura. It began to slow, trembling a bit in the air. Amara clenched her fist as it continued to lose momentum, the distance between it and the axe handle narrowing in slower and slower increments until it seemed only a hair’s breadth away.
And then, a second flash of blue filled her vision along with the sound of cracking. Isolde’s earring shattered into tiny shards that fell around them like sparkling dust, and with a final push, the rubble knocked into the axe, embedding it deep into the creature’s body.
The already gaping wound was made complete, and the top half of the Aberration was lopped off. The black glow surrounding it flashed like lightning, fighting for control, but finally, it dimmed down just as the creature began to disintegrate.
Amara slumped forward and heard Isolde exhale beside her.
“Oh thank god,” Amara muttered, vision still swimming slightly. Her muscles were still screaming at her, but the growing feeling of relief temporarily numbed them.
She raised her head to look at Isolde—just in time to see a barrage of fleshy appendages barrelling in their direction.
And then, just before they could impact, all at once they stopped.
In the flash of a second, a figure had silently stepped in front of them. A black guard uniform cut an imposing silhouette as it billowed in the wind, and a deep forest green glow enveloped the man. His back still facing them, he raised a gloved hand as the appendages approached without so much as a flinch.
The moment they touched his hand, it was as though all the force had been drained from the attack. They tapped his palm with no more energy than a child’s punch. The Aberration made a confused noise, those appendages lurching back. The man stepped forward, drawing a sword Amara had just noticed from his sheathe.
The fight was over alarmingly fast after that.
The man didn’t even run, simply walking forward with that green glow cloaking him, mirrored in a stone Amara could see embedded into his blade when it turned the right angle. Every attack that came close abruptly lost all impact, just like the first. It didn’t even matter that the Aberration was focusing all its strength and attention on the new arrival.
It was almost comical, how easily the man simply strode up to the Aberration and stabbed the blade deep into its gut. With that simple action, the fight was over. The creature’s body began to disintegrate, joining the mounds of dust scattered across the square.
It was only once all of the Aberration was rendered into dust that the man finally turned around.
He was quite tall, with a broad, strong build that was naturally intimidating. His dark hair went down to his chin, and his sharp eyes complemented angular, stoic features. His eyes surveyed the square as the green glow finally died down, his pristine appearance a harsh contrast to his destroyed surroundings.
The head guard from earlier strode forward, his hair a mess and a fresh cut gushing blood across his forearm.
“Glenn,” the man snarled. “What the fuck took you so long?”
The hardness in those eyes bled away a little, and Amara’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the genuine remorse she saw. The man, Glenn, bowed, his dark hair falling into his face with the action.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said, voice as quiet as it was low. “I was guarding Lord Alardice behind the manor. By the time I was made aware of the attack, too much time had already passed. The fault lies with me.”
The head guard eyed the man’s bowed head. A heavy silence fell, and it felt like everyone there was holding their breath. Finally, the man scoffed and turned away.
“Save the guilt. You’re better off using that energy to get this shit cleaned up.”
It was like the whole square exhaled. Amara vaguely noted various watchmen and guards rising, even a few civilians who’d managed to hide now stepped tentatively back into the open.
Glenn finally raised his head again, and he gave the head guard a perfect bow before turning to help gather the wounded.
Amara felt someone beside her and glanced over to see Isolde silently tapping her spear and coiling it up. The woman’s gaze, however, was trained on Glenn’s back, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. Amara peered at her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
That seemed to snap Isolde out of whatever thoughts had been running through her mind. She shook her head and stashed her weapon away, rummaging around in her bag and pulling out a roll of bandages.
“I recognize that man,” she said simply as she began to unwind the roll. “Glenn Alardice.”
Amara’s head snapped up, eyes sharp. “Alardice?”
Isolde nodded. “He’s Lord Alardice’s younger half brother.” She shook her head and reached into her bag to pull out a clean cloth as well. “Bastard children aren’t uncommon, per say, but he became famous after he entered the Academy. They say he was one of the most naturally gifted people to ever walk those halls. He was on track to becoming a Rose immediately after graduation.”
Amara’s gaze snapped over to the man, honing in on his gloves. They were well made, but their color was black, the opposite of the Roses’ white gloves.
“So? What happened?”
“No one knows.” Isolde frowned. “A week before the final licensing examination, he dropped out without any prior notice.” Now done wiping her own wounds, she gestured for Amara to hold out her arm, which she did. Isolde pulled a second cloth out and began to pat at the cuts.
“It was said that he returned to Vanstead to serve on Alardice territory, and no one heard much of him after that. A few people even speculated that perhaps he’d really died, or that the Sovereign had personally assigned him more secretive jobs. It’s difficult to fathom why someone with so much power would waste away their potential in a place like this.” Something vaguely resembling disgust flashed across Isolde’s face, which Amara noted for later.
The other woman sighed. “It appears the mundane answer was correct after all. At the very least, I will admit that in this case it’s good that he was present.”
Amara hummed an agreement, not really paying attention as Isolde continued to work at her wounds, too distracted to even tell her that she could do it herself. She watched Glenn’s distant figure, weaving around the destroyed square and helping victims, remembering just how easily he’d taken down an Aberration that had nearly decimated all of them.
Her fingers twitched, remembering the loss of control, the heaviness in her body when she’d been slammed into the wall. Someone with that kind of power would never have to worry about that, she thought.