– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 216, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 57 –
A lonely figure stood up high in the night’s sky. Despite the many stars above, it would be difficult for any observer to detect the person that was cloaked in velvety darkness. It was practically impossible for any observer at ground-level because of the figure’s high altitude.
“Mana damn it.” Terry cursed and sighed. His eyes were glowing with mana and he fixed his mana sight on the fog in front and above him. The interplay between the smoky fog and the stars’ illumination painted a mesmerizing picture. The strange optical effect that hid the fog’s existence when too far away only added to the beautiful scenery.
Terry was in no mood to appreciate the aesthetics of the magical phenomenon that prevented him from returning to his friends and family. The elusive and intriguing effect only served to feed Terry’s growing irritation and impatience.
Terry had spent the first nights after his arrival in this location pretending to sleep. He had continued emitting low-intensity detection pulses and observed the lizans’ movements when they believed him to be asleep. Terry had paid particular attention to the lizan leader.
Terry had not trusted these strangers and he still didn’t. His night watch had allowed Terry to get some more information about their attitudes and behavior. His findings were useful but incredibly confusing. On the one hand, Terry was reasonably certain that he could sneak out at night undetected – useful. On the other hand, these lizans were so strange – very confusing.
This last finding was not only based on Terry’s nightly observation, but also his day-time interaction – or lack thereof – with the lizans. Terry had given excuses to not go closer to the wyvern for now. Instead, Terry had questioned the blue-scaled lizan leader about the area and whatever they could tell him about the wyvern and fog.
While the leader was one thing, Terry was incredibly weirded out by the rest of the lizans. He had tried interacting with them at times, but had gotten nowhere, not without the blue-scaled lizan acting as an intermediary. In the beginning, Terry had not been sure what exactly made him feel queasy about these non-communicative lizard folks.
Only after Terry had started taking notes about their nightly movements, did he realize what had caused his odd impression of them: These lizans were simply too predictable. They always followed the same routines. Each and everyone of them. Every day. Every night. Sometimes, they just stood still for hours.
This had given Terry pause. After all, he was writing down their patterns in order to be able to sneak off or get away if necessary. Naturally, Terry had hoped for some predictability in order to make use of it. This extreme level of predictability, however, made Terry worry. Was this just an act? Did the ‘great spirits’ in their blood tip them off about what Terry was trying to do and now they were playing along? Was all of Terry’s behavior already part of their prophecy?
Mind games. Terry reminded himself of another statement attributed to one of the Veilbinder’s later companions, a person known as the famous Blasphemer. ‘You show me a prophecy and I show you a mind game, because more often than not, that’s what these alleged predictions of the future are: nothing more than mind games. Manipulation rather than revelation. Never trust a prophet. Never.’
“Not like I have much of a choice,” grumbled Terry. Without the lizans, I might not even have found the passage.
“Hmph.” Terry frowned. “Not like the passage is doing me much good with a freaking wyvern blocking the way though.” Terry subconsciously stole glances towards the direction where he knew the wyvern was waiting. Initially, Terry had hoped that the primordial beast would eventually have to move from its spot – to hunt for food or something, Terry would have settled for the wyvern scratching itself – but alas, no such luck. Nothing. The wyvern did not move an inch.
If it wasn’t for the mana signature and the giant eye that occasionally took in the sights, Terry might have believed that he was being pranked. Another possible layer to the mind game…
Terry grumbled: “I already hate this whole prophecy and future scrying schtick.”
“Screw this…” Terry placed his hands on his face and took a deep breath. Whatever comes from the wyvern-thing, I’d rather have something real to fall back on. Terry smiled with bitter reminiscence. “Something I can always rely on.” Terry formed a fist and began circulating mana in a familiar pattern.
With grim resolve, Terry punched his fist into the smoky fog and circulated his mana according to the ice-aspected resistance training…
Half-a-second later, a blood-curdling scream echoed high up in the night’s sky.
“Hahaha…” Terry laughed with mad despair. He ignored the slowly freezing tears of pain running down his face. Terry examined his fist, which had almost been frozen solid in an instant. He observed the thawing process when his remaining blood and mana entered his injured hand. “...hahaha…” Terry chuckled with tears in his eyes while he retrieved the wand that Samuel had sent him to Tiv.
Well, that was a shit idea. Terry closed his eyes. He ignited the Heal and Cure Wounds imprints in the wand to assist his own healing. His hand was injured too badly to only rely on his own regeneration. Lesson learned.
“Still.” Terry clenched his teeth and stared at the deceptively beautiful fog in front of him. Subconsciously, Terry channeled some mana into the divine hammer inscription at his legs. The overwhelming pain from his frozen hand made it difficult to summon the sheet of mana. “The sheer grit that was the Divine Hammer.” Terry chuckled drily while trying hard to ignore the pain. “Good concentration practice.” Terry smiled weakly.
“A few more primers left in the wand…” Terry inhaled deeply and mustered his resolve. “Primer regeneration was roughly…”
You know, you don’t even know if this works. No one ever said resistance training could reach that kind of level. Terry’s intrusive thoughts pointed out.
“Devon’s did,” muttered Terry with closed eyes.
Only in combination with an insane ritual from an ancient deathcult. You don’t quite have Devon’s background, nor his mana aspects.
Terry continued his breathing exercise to push away the pain and to calm his nerves.
Even if this could work, this would take forever. You’d probably die of old age before you’d succeed. There is no ancient deathcult around to patch you up or continue while you’re unconscious.
“I will return to Arcana,” insisted Terry. “I said I would.” Terry hissed through gritted teeth. “I’m not a liar.”
Did the lizan looneys strike you as the patient sort? Well, I guess they waited around for half a cycle on the vague words of a weird prophecy spirit or something. Still. You might have better chances with the wyvern.
“I will get to the wyvern,” growled Terry. “But it’s correct that resistance training takes time. The best time to start would have been before I even got here. The second best time is now.”
Terry muttered to himself. “I’ll probe the wyvern during the day. The resistance training should be useful for engaging the beast as well.” Terry scoffed. “That would be quite the prophesized ‘Great Mage’ if he immediately gets flicked into the fog and turns into a popsicle.”
A giant let down of a ‘Great Dark One.’
“Ugh…” Terry still found these titles ominous. “Hmph. Mind games.”
***
“What do you think, Terry?” asked the blue-scaled leader of the lizan.
Terry stalled for time by sketching in his notebook. He sketched the wyvern – badly – and added his estimates for the distance and measurements. He held his notebook in front of him and marked the proportions of the wyvern. He used his estimation of the distance to the wyvern to adjust the proportions to get some numbers. Terry had no real clue what he was supposed to do with these numbers.
Procrastinating from the inevitable, commented Terry’s intrusive thoughts.
“Hard to say how big the gap between the wyvern and the fog is,” muttered Terry.
“Terry, it would be impossible to pass by the wyvern even if there was sufficient space.” Blue reminded Terry.
Terry tried to maintain a deadpan expression. Terry knew that he was bad at hiding his thoughts from his face and therefore, he buried his face in his notebook. His thoughts were not very polite and would certainly put a strain on his relationship with the lizans.
Impossible for you maybe. You and your weird blood suppression thing, which you haven’t explained to me in any way that would make sense. Terry closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. Still, different blood doesn’t mean that it’s possible for me. No idea how a wyvern would react to a human passing by. How territorial are wyverns anyway? Would it see me as a threat? A snack? An annoying fly?
“Perhaps it would help to get a closer look.” Blue looked hopefully at Terry.
This again. Terry cursed inwardly. In Terry’s opinion, Blue had the annoying habit of frequently switching into cheerleading mode.
“The great spirits have foretold your victory!” Blue clasped his hands.
There we go, thought Terry sarcastically.
“Your path is set, your fate is unshakable,” insisted Blue without a trace of doubt in his voice. “You will not fail. It is impossible for you to fail in this.”
“Hmm…” Terry held back his retort. Failing felt far from impossible to Terry. Involuntarily, he thought back to his days at the Arcana Academy, to the discovery of his aspect impairment. This memory was followed by the year-long search for a spell to cast and eventually, by his experience of being trapped in the dungeon with the ghouls.
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I made it through all this, didn’t I?
“Every failure is nothing more than a step to getting it right,” mumbled Terry.
Well, as long as the failure doesn’t mean getting squished or turned into a popsicle.
“Good point,” mumbled Terry.
“Terry?” interjected Blue. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
“Nevermind,” said Terry. “Just thinking out loud.”
Weirdo.
“Heh,” exclaimed Terry – amused by his own intrusive thoughts. Not like the lizan looneys are in a position to judge.
Terry stood up. “I’m going a bit closer.”
Blue’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“But not much closer,” insisted Terry. “Hmm… Perhaps just testing to see when there would be a reaction from the wyvern.” He glanced at Blue and emphasized: “Any reaction, no matter how small.”
***
Another night and another time for Terry to hang around up high in the sky. He was lying back on a transfixed tertium slab. His eyes moved from his still frozen hand to the sky above.
At least the view is great…
Terry tried to distract himself from the pain in his hand. He had been persevering in his resistance training for nearly three weeks. If there was any improvement, Terry could not tell. The fog still overcame his resistance in an instant. It still hurt like hell.
Terry was getting impatient. He had been scouting the area. He had even spent several days just checking the Elusive Fog of Frost for gaps. Of course, there were none.
Terry had determined at what distance the wyvern would react to his presence. To his dismay, the wyvern’s senses appeared to be quite sharp. Terry could tell that the wyvern had noticed him even when Terry was still some distance away.
Sooner or later, I will have to test for the wyvern’s reaction when I get closer…
Terry did not look forward to the experience. A part of him was wondering if he was worrying too much. Perhaps the wyvern would just let Terry through without even turning its head – the wyvern seemed rather languorous after all. However, another part was reminding himself to be cautious. Terry could swear that this part sounded like his accepted mother Isille.
“Not much room for failure,” mumbled Terry. “But I will have to cross that bridge eventually.”
I’m sure the impatience has nothing to do with the pain from petting the abominable fog every night…
“Hmph.” Terry huffed and adjusted the position of his nearly frozen hand to hopefully alleviate the pain. The success of this endeavor was marginal at best.
I wonder how Lori and the others are doing…
Terry took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
I hope they have made it safely back to Arcana.
Please let them be safe.
Initially, Terry had told himself that his nighttime activity was necessary. Get an overview. Look for backup plans. Improve yourself. By now, however, doubts had started to rise. One night, Terry had decided to take a break and he had utterly failed to sleep soundly.
Terry almost missed the undead horde and the feeling of complete exhaustion, because at that time, Terry had no trouble falling asleep. At that time, Terry had been too busy staying alive for his worrying thoughts to invade his nights. Now, by contrast, Terry was alone in the sky and he had no place to hide from his own thoughts.
What if the dragonfly construct was destroyed on its way? What if the four-leaved blood tulips never made it to Arcana? If everything has led to failure regardless? What if I never get to see Ma Isille or Pa Bjorln again?
What if Lori and the others— What if my plan to go to Tiv dragged everyone down? What if they've gotten seriously hurt or…?
What if I’ve made everything worse?!
Terry grimly stared at the heartless stars above. Subconsciously, he gripped his injured arm tighter with his healthy hand. “Fff…” He inhaled sharply due to the pain.
Was that intentional? Self-punishment?
Terry exhaled slowly. “Focus.”
Perhaps you deserve it.
“Shut up,” hissed Terry. He stood up on the tertium slab. “I guess I can use the recovery time for some more rounds with the divine hammer inscription.”
Not as if that is going to be much help with your wyvern date.
“...” Terry ignored his intrusive thoughts and began walking around on small sheets of mana formed with the divine hammer inscription.
***
“I’m glad that you have decided to trust in the words of the great spirits, Terry,” said the blue-scaled leader of the lizans. His blue scales were reflecting the light of the moon and stars above.
Who said I trust your gobbledygook? retorted Terry in his mind.
“It can’t be avoided,” said Terry flatly. “I need to get through there just like you do. I can’t postpone going closer indefinitely.”
And the timing definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that you wondered if your hand is looking more blue-ish than in the past, even when it’s not frozen anymore. Do you think resistance training can have such an effect? Permanent discoloration? If you keep training your resistance against all kinds of aspects, you’ll look like a clown!
Terry ignored the non-helpful commentary from his intrusive thoughts and watched the giant wyvern in the distance. “Today, I’ll just try to see if I can sneak closer.” The wyvern looked so peaceful from a distance. In the night’s weak illumination, you could mistake the giant creature for a mountain of snow.
“I’m sure your mana concealment will be helpful, Terry,” said Blue. “But the great spirits have foretold your success in getting rid of the wyvern. That’s more than sneaking.”
I’m most certainly not going to get rid of any wyverns today! retorted Terry in his mind. And I have noted that ‘getting rid of’ is vague enough to possibly mean all kinds of things. From spitting the wyvern to death all the way to getting eaten and causing it to leave due to digestion problems.
Terry grumbled silent complaints. He caught himself thinking that he was glad that the Preacher in Tiv did not act as a prophet. As a politician, Kipkoi had considerable talent for twisting words and this seemed like an advantage for these prophecy mind games.
“Alright…” Terry was torn on how to approach this. He could approach from the sky in order to be more free in his movements and potentially more concealed. Or he could approach on ground-level in order to keep his own mana use as low as possible. Truth be told, Terry was uneasy about his own lack of understanding of what to expect from the wyvern’s senses.
I wonder if Siling is as knowledgeable about primordial magical beasts as she is about mana-corrupted beasts…
Not the time.
Focus.
Terry double-checked his cloaking. Next, he checked the presence of his most recent dungeon rewards. First, the necklace that adjusted his mana signature to perfectly blend into the surrounding mana. Then, the brooch that allowed him to summon a velvety black cloak and to step into the shadows.
One last time, Terry bemoaned the fact that the Tiv soldiers had destroyed the enchantment of the concealment ring he had looted from the bandits. Terry would have appreciated another layer of protection from whatever senses the wyvern was relying on.
Perhaps the dungeon had a point in handing out shady items. Once more, I’m reduced to sneaking around in the dark.
Terry sighed, clenched his fists and then stepped up into the air and forward. He relied on his cloaked boot mechanism instead of the divine hammer inscription. He reminded himself to stay calm. If it came down to it, his Shadow Step provided a safe evasive ability under the cover of the night – as long as he got back to the ground or had time to summon sufficient footing in the sky.
Terry placed his hand on the magic brooch and extended the velvety black fabric until it covered his body. He pulled the cloak's hood above his head and was about to move forward when he felt mana movement around himself. He looked back towards the lizans with surprise. “What are you doing?”
“A supportive magic, Terry,” explained Blue, who was grasping a beaded chain again. “To keep you safe. Healing if your life is threatened. Our fate is tied to yours, Terry. The great spirits are wise, but they also count on us to rely on ourselves. Your success is guaranteed but I’m sure the prophecy was based on us providing assistance as well.”
“Hrrm…” Terry uttered a dissatisfied growl but decided not to press the point. If the lizans were trying to harm him, they could have done so several times over. He had little patience to worry about more of these mind games and uncertainties when he was about to face a freaking wyvern.
Terry slowly air-walked towards the giant creature. He could hear his own heartbeat with how fast the blood was rushing through his ears.
Around here… Terry slowed his steps even further when he was about to reach the range at which the wyvern had reacted to Terry’s presence during Terry's information gathering.
Terry was relieved to see the giant eye remain closed and he continued walking forward with bated breath. He had to resist the temptation to take out his notebook and update his estimated measurements.
Eventually, Terry got close enough to get an idea of the gaps between the Elusive Fog of Frost and the wyvern’s giant body. Unfortunately, there was not much of a gap anywhere. It appeared that the wyvern was crossing partly into the fog on both sides. This meant that the wyvern was resistant against the freezing effect of the magic phenomenon.
Explains why the wyvern would settle down in this area. Although I’m still wondering what that thing eats around here. The frozen corpses inside the fog? If so, then when does it actually get around to that?
Terry wrestled down the questions of his inner Academy student and focused on the task at hand. The largest gap Terry could make out was above the wyvern’s body. Therefore, Terry stepped further up into the sky.
Every step was nerve-racking.
Just when Terry was about to step above the wyvern, Terry could feel a torrent of wind rushing around him. Reflexively, Terry transfixed a tertium slab in front of him.
*TANG* Half-a-second later, the giant horned tail of the wyvern crashed into the tertium slab. The wyvern had uncoiled in a whip-like fashion. The tail was blocked by the tertium slab but the flexible tail bent around the end of the slab and its momentum was still carrying towards Terry.
Terry stopped worrying about remaining hidden and retreated as fast as he could on layers of mana, which he created with the divine hammer inscription.
Unfortunately, the giant scaled whip was not the only thing that assaulted Terry. The violent wind movement had carried pockets of the Elusive Fog of Frost to Terry and he could feel his body temperature lower at a dangerous pace. The only upside was that these dispersed pockets of fog were not as dense as in their original position and therefore did not have the same intense effect.
Terry detected two attacks at once. The horned tail had uncoiled another turn and was about to arrive in full swing once more. Additionally, Terry saw the giant jaws underneath him. The razor-sharp teeth were the least of Terry’s worries considering the accumulating mana at the jaw's center.
Crap. Terry forgot to breathe. His instincts remained but his mind was already protesting the movements his body and mana were about to take. Terry retrieved a shield and hid behind it while positioning the shield in anticipation of the collision with the rapidly approaching wyvern tail.
*Tang* Terry felt as if he had run full-burst into a wall. The bad news was that he was sure there were a few broken bones and he was uncertain if his organs were still as separated as they ought to be. The good news was that his instincts had judged correctly and he was being propelled away from the wyvern’s elemental breath – much faster than Terry could have accelerated on his own.
Terry’s mind was protesting with the backing of his mangled body, but then Terry could spot the gigantic storm of elemental mana where he had been a few seconds ago. This terrifying sensation vindicated the judgement of his battle instincts.
Nevertheless, Terry hardly felt in a mood to celebrate. He was still flying rapidly through the air and considering Terry's initial altitude, it would take a while before he would impact on the ground.
Terry waited intentionally to gain more distance from the wyvern. Afterwards, Terry summoned pairs of gymnastic rings that were linked with elastic rope to slow himself. He had to grit his teeth and hurriedly wrapped the rings around one arm – his other arm did not feel usable at the moment.
A few Immovable Object spells later, Terry dropped from the sky and rolled violently on the ground. Terry coughed and spat blood. He could not help but sigh at the realization of how familiar this pain in his body and this bloody taste in his mouth felt. He was beginning to feel dizzy and was about to retrieve his healing wand when he sensed another magic activate on himself – the magic that Blue had cast before.
So much for assured success…
***