– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 218, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 58 –
“What happened then?” Brandon asked with starry eyes. The eleven year old was sitting on a bench outside the Flower House together with Daisy. Both were watching and listening while Terry was training his divine hammer inscription.
Countless streaks of translucent golden light were zipping around Terry. Most of them would not manage to hurt a fly, but they were carrying momentum nonetheless. Today, he was practicing quantity over quality. He attempted to mirror his disruption pulse and domains with the divine hammer inscription.
He did not believe he would be able to achieve it, but it was a goal to work towards and the exercise helped practice using the inscription without using his own movement as a focus point. He only had so many limbs and flailing them around all the time would never scale, which was why he had begun thinking of the accompanying body movement as yet another crutch, just like finger movements in spellwork.
Terry felt strange thinking like that. His aunt Sigille, the Divine Hammer herself, had used the inscription with the body movements whenever she attacked. She was the undisputed master of the infamously difficult inscription and it felt strange to deviate from the way she had been wielding it. It felt as if he was going against the aunt that had trained him.
No. Terry clenched his right hand into a fist. I’m not her. I’ll never be her. I have my own limitations. She had hers. This feels right…
He moved his left palm forward and simultaneously punched his right fist while pulling his left palm back to slap against his right shoulder. Right on contact, a divine hammer that was four times the size of his fist flew forward. That hammer would be able to smash a horned rabbit into paste with a single blow.
I’ll have to walk my own path. Doesn’t mean I don’t get to take inspiration from others.
Terry nodded at himself. Even if he was training something new, he was not forgetting to train the traditional inscription usage. It might not scale, but it packed a much better punch.
One reason he had begun testing new ways to use the inscription was that he had gotten a good grasp of providing momentum but was beginning to see some new limitations. He was making great progress in creating larger structures and increasing the distance where he could accurately wield them, but limitations remained.
His main remaining problem was that wielding at range or with larger structures was insanely mana-hungry. He could compensate with his mana foundation and reharvesting of mana, but something felt off about that.
Terry had seen the mana pool of his aunt. He had seen the Divine Hammer fight from up close. She did not waste that much mana when using the inscription. He suspected that it was a problem with how he was aiming the mana.
Involuntarily, his mind was bringing him back into a scene of the past. He saw himself sit again in an office with Instructor Samuel and Instructor Brynn. The day that they had tested him for his aspect impairment. When they had asked him to turn off his mana sight to demonstrate that he was not shaping the spell structures stably but was continuously and subconsciously rebalancing the mana.
Am I doing it again?
Terry paused. His external mana control was probably his biggest strength. By contrast, his aunt Sigille had been born with an external control impairment. The way she was using the divine hammer inscription must have been entirely based on her internal mana control and the way she was circulating mana through the inscription.
No adjustments with external mana control.
But I’m not doing any… Oh.
Terry stopped himself from reharvesting mana. Had he been subconsciously reclaiming and pulling on the mana while it was still being aimed?
He had definitely gotten used to always reclaiming mana and pulling on all ambient mana whenever he was fighting. If he never stopped that completely, then…
A slight deviation would not mean much in the context of a disruption discharge but with something as finicky as the divine hammer?
Something to try…
“Come on, Terry! What happened then?” A begging voice jolted him from his thoughts. Brandon drawled: “Tell us!”
“Yeah!” added Daisy and she also drawled her speech in an exaggerated pleading: “Tell us!”
Terry grinned. “What happened next? Everyone shat their pants is what happened next. The Divine Division attacked the bloody giant with all they got without leaving so much as the slightest mark on him.”
“Yes!” Brandon pumped a fist.
“But…” Daisy bit her lip.
“Even the Captain and the Divine Hammer were getting pale-faced when seeing the mass of blood and hellfire,” continued Terry while keeping up his training.
“Oh no…” exclaimed Brandon. “Was Devon okay?”
“From what Lizzy said, it was a close call,” said Terry gravely before breaking out in a smirk: “But then the bloody giant roared: ‘I’m allowed to defend people.’” He smiled at the memory. “Just like the Devon we know. The bloody giant shrank and from the blood stepped…”
“An angry naked mage!” Brandon giggled.
“Yup,” affirmed Terry. “An angry naked mage. One of the most terrifying sights for an enemy to encounter on a battlefield.”
“I’m glad he was okay,” said Daisy with relief. “Devon sounds nice. Do you think you’ll meet him again one day?”
“I hope so,” said Terry sincerely. “Eventually.” His face turned more solemn. “I just hope it won’t be on another battlefield. I hope Devon has a chance to live a little. He’s had it rough and he deserves some peace and quiet.” Not just him. The Captain too.
“What happened then?!” prodded Brandon. “Did the Divine Hammer crush the cultists?”
“It’s more complicated than that.” Terry shook his head. “And don’t get too excited about it. Those were real people, not just characters in a story. The whole thing was a completely pointless waste of life, which you’ll realize when we get to the next part. After the scare with Devon, the whole thing developed into a…” He paused.
The whole situation in Syn City had turned into a real clusterfuck when the battle had drawn the attention of the huge horde of undead. He decided to use the obfuscating term that Lizzy had used instead: “...into a Charlie Foxtrot.”
“A what?” Brandon furrowed his brow and next to him, Daisy did the same.
“You’ll see tomorrow,” said Terry teasingly.
“No! Why?”
“Because during my next training session, I won’t have the breathing room to allow me to tell stories and besides…” Terry retrieved his most cherished possession. “Didn’t you want to read the next chapter of the true Path of a Mage with Daisy?”
“Yes!” Brandon immediately turned to bat his eyelashes at Daisy. He had been just as enamored with the story of the Veilbinder as Daisy.
Terry felt wistful seeing the young boy digging into the historical account of the Veilbinder. It reminded him of the time he and his siblings had waited eagerly for the day of the week where Samuel finally removed the obfuscation created by the Blank Pages spell to reveal the next chapter.
He didn’t know if Brandon and Daisy would eventually lose interest in the much dryer version with more details and context, but for now, the two were eating up the chapters as voraciously as they had with the fictionalized children’s novel.
“I wish I could become a mage like that,” mumbled Brandon.
“You already have some mana, so you just need to keep practicing,” stressed Terry.
Brandon frowned which brought another memory to Terry. Back when he had been a first-year at Arcana Academy, the worst part of his days were the mana foundational classes with Instructor Samuel.
For the current Terry, that past attitude of his had become unfathomable. Mana foundational training was like an enjoyable meditation to calm his mind and with the added pleasure of seeing it push further and further with time.
However, Terry still remembered his thoughts from when he was slightly more than twelve years old. Mana foundation training appeared so boring, because there was nothing tangible about it without a first spell to actuate the potential.
Doesn’t have to be a spell though. Could be anything that’s active.
Terry looked at Brandon and wondered. The active abilities of mana cultivation were too advanced for the boy and the same was true for regular spellwork, but there were other magic uses that might serve to make the training more tangible and entertaining.
Eventually, Terry smiled slightly and held out his old magic glove that was imprinted with the Blinding Flash spell. The radiating light inscription in the newer glove that his aunt Brynn had gifted him had made the old glove obsolete. Unfortunately, it was not capable of working in synergy to create a strobe light effect either.
That works, but…
Terry circulated his mana along the outside of the glove and ripped into the mana cloaking. The glove had been cloaked for him in Syn City in exchange for some inscription base metal he had looted in a dungeon. The cloaking was necessary to wander around without drawing attention, but it would be in the way for what he wanted to use it for now.
Terry carefully broke the mana cloaking and shielding and extracted the related mana until the spell imprint was clearly visible and accessible.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Here.” Terry held the glove out. “That’s for you. It contains an imprint of the Blinding Flash spell. Try to observe the details of the spell imprint in your mana sight. Your mana foundation isn’t ready to cast a spell yet but with some more training you should be able to activate the glove. You just need a bit of mana and the right timing to ignite the imprint. I can show you more later.”
“...really?” Brandon gingerly accepted the glove. “For me?”
“Yeah, under the condition that you’ll keep up your mana foundational training.” Terry grinned and his grin became even wider when he saw Brandon nod solemnly.
“Didn’t you say you had to earn money?” Daisy whispered to Terry. “That seems expensive.”
“Not that expensive.” Terry whispered back. “Doesn’t make a big difference.” And I’ve already destroyed the cloaking and shielding, so it’s a bit too late for second thoughts.
While Terry was getting ready for his own training, he didn’t notice the disbelieving glance he received from Daisy. Nor did he notice the warm smile on her face.
***
It was shortly after midnight when Jasmine approached Terry. “Can I have a moment before you leave?”
“Sure,” replied Terry with a slight nod.
“You can take an additional day off next week,” said Jasmine and she raised her hand before Terry could object. “Paid leave. Or rather an advance, if you prefer. I have a favor to ask that will require more than your usual hours in a few weeks.”
“Okay.” Terry shrugged. He could use the additional leave to cram some of the other missions he had recently seen in the Guild into it. “What kind of favor?”
“You remember Alexander?” Jasmine’s voice betrayed her worry.
“Unaspected mana, uses a rapier, a politician that’s calling himself a knight, oversized impractical hat, facial hair…?” Terry listed off the traits he remembered in the order they sprang to his mind. “Seemed to have some sway with the guards when they came here.”
“Yes, him.” Jasmine nodded. “He likes Daisy…” She frowned slightly. “...or at least he likes to visit her.”
Terry nodded. By now, he remembered all the mana signatures of all the people in the Flower House as well as their regular visitors. Even if the people used the hidden tunnels to come, they did not remain hidden from his mana touch.
“In a few weeks, there will be a large festival with national holidays and at the end of the festivities, the government will hold a masquerade ball for the political elite as well as many of the representatives from the largest economic cooperatives…”
Terry just nodded along, not sure where he would fit in.
“Alexander has invited Daisy to be his date for the ball…” Jasmine shook her head. “And I don’t like it.”
“Anything wrong with Alexander?” asked Terry.
“I think he’s full of himself and hot air, but that has nothing to do with it.” Jasmine clicked her tongue. “It’s not him I’m worried about but rather the ball itself. That’s a ball for the most influential people in the country. Not for regular people like us. That’s a place where you can make very powerful enemies with a single misstep.”
Terry furrowed her brow. “If Daisy knows all this, does she still want to go?”
“Of course.” Jasmine rolled her eyes. “She is already fretting about which mask to wear. Dressing up. Dancing with dashing young men. Mingling with all the high society. How could she not want to go?”
Terry scrunched up his face. All those things sounded like very good reasons not to go in his ears. He assumed the question was rhetorical and held his tongue.
“I’m happy she gets to go, but I’m worried for her.” Jasmine caught his gaze. “That’s why I want you to accompany her as her bodyguard and watch her back.”
Terry puffed his cheeks. He involuntarily thought back to the Preacher’s reception in Tiv. Those were not fond memories.
The talk of dressing up and, even worse, masks made it all the more distasteful. He had learned to hate masks in the pocket realm with the martialist trials and the dungeon at risk. He had never seen anything good coming out of an encounter with a masked martialist. On the contrary, they seemed to reserve their vilest behavior for when they considered their identities safely hidden behind a mask.
“Wouldn’t I need an invitation to attend?” asked Terry. At least that had been the case with the Preacher’s reception.
“Every invited guest can bring a bodyguard,” explained Jasmine. “There wouldn’t be an event otherwise given the nature of the guests.”
“Hm…” Terry thought it over and could not help but grumble. “I refuse to wear a wasted mask or anything else except my regular equipment.” He paused pensively and then added: “...and I won’t have anyone touch my storage items or equipment.”
Jasmine burst out laughing.
“I’m serious,” grumbled Terry. “The most I’m willing to do is place my weapons into my storage items.”
“That’s not why I was laughing, fool.” Jasmine continued chortling. “I’m laughing because there is not a single person in this country whose first concern at my proposal would be the attire.” She wiped something from her eyes. “Good. That’s why you’re the right person to look out for her.”
Terry narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. What should I be concerned about instead?
“Anywho, I don’t think your conditions will pose a problem,” continued Jasmine. “They might make you seem like a bore, but if that doesn’t bother you, then there is no problem.”
Why in the Wastes would that bother me?
Perhaps I can use the time for practicing my crystal-based shielding? Or I could research some of the body inscription brochures that Iris gave me. But that would require light. No matter, I can just use light-aspected rods if there is none available. I’d rather wait outside like Matteo did at the Preacher’s reception. I really don’t want to get dragged into more political discussions from…
Oh, right. I have to reply.
Terry forced himself to focus on the conversation and nodded. “Fine with me then.”
“Thank you,” said Jasmine in a heartfelt tone. “The ball might go on deep into the night. I know you don’t mind late nights, but if it takes longer than it should, I’ll make sure you get compensated.”
“No worries,” said Terry. He had never had trouble getting his pay from Jasmine. He trusted her enough to not haggle over the details.
“Oh since we’re on the subject of Daisy…” Jasmine puckered her lips slightly and she appeared to search Terry’s face for something while he didn’t know for what.
“Yes?” Terry creased his brows. “What?”
“What do you think of her?” asked Jasmine.
That’s a weird question, isn’t it? I’m far from a social expert, but that seems like a weird question.
“She’s… nice?” Terry replied noncommittally. “We seem to share a taste for stories and legends. Why?”
“Hm.” Jasmine looked slightly disappointed. “Oh it’s just that it’s part of my job to know everyone in our cooperative and I think I have a good idea of what everyone is looking for in life.” She shook her head slightly. “Just try not to give her the wrong idea.”
Terry blinked with a face that was a transparent display of confusion.
“Oh mana.” Jasmine held her forehead. “Let me put it this way. I know you said that you are just passing through, but not everyone takes words at their face value. Some people like reading into things until their dreams seem real…” She had to restrain a snort when his face further locked into the display of confusion.
Eventually, Jasmine sighed. “This job is, like every other job, not for everyone. We have worked hard to make the cooperative a place not one of desperation but of self-determination. That means being discerning in whom to accept – both as a guest and, perhaps even more so, as a flower.”
Jasmine’s eyes drifted towards Daisy’s room. “Those like me joined to set our own terms and become our own boss. Those like Lavender joined because they thought nothing of the work and are pleased at the pleasures or benefits the paycheck can afford them. Those like Iris enjoy both the work and the leisure time it affords them. But Daisy…
“She is an oddball here.” Jasmine shrugged. “She definitely doesn’t mind the work, but aside from her, I can’t think of many flowers that have little interest in the money itself. Daisy is definitely the only one with her head so far up in the clouds.” She sighed again. “She’s a romantic and I’m pretty sure she is looking for a dashing young man to sweep her off her feet and take her away.”
Terry was kind of lost in the monologue, but thought he had caught on. “Like Alexander?”
“Yes, but that’s not the only charming prince to dream about around here, honey.” Jasmine winked at him.
Terry blinked and puffed his cheeks.
“I’m talking about you, nitwit.” Jasmine chortled which made the wrinkles at her eyelids dance up and down.
I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of being charming? Quite the opposite normally.
Terry scrunched up his face. “I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “I’m just passing through and I don’t think I’m very princely.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “I see your self-confidence only comes out when facing a battle. Well, ignoring the trained body, and the strangely older gaze in your eyes…
“Rescued a friend from a dungeon challenge.” She started counting while pointing the index finger of one hand onto the fingers of the other hand and enumerating episodes from Terry’s stories. “Repelled an undead horde and protected an injured friend. Protected a newly founded settlement from an army of channelers. Trained under the legendary Divine Hammer and avenged her death. Returned to the Tiv Empire even though there was an open bounty and then stepped into the Wastes to save the lives of your adoptive parents—”
Jasmine gave Terry a pointed look while talking when he interjected.
“That doesn’t sound like me at all.” Terry blurted out involuntarily. “Not when you put it like that. That’s not what—”
“I’ve boiled it down to what matters.” Jasmine shrugged. “If my summary doesn’t ring true for you, then that is exactly my point. The way you see yourself is not the way that others are seeing you. Please be mindful of that. That’s all I’m asking.” She spoke softly. “Thank you for doing me a favor. Until tomorrow.”
“Sure…” Terry was far from sure he understood. He got what she was saying, but he was not sure what he was supposed to do. He always said that he was just passing through. It should be painfully obvious that he was busy trying to get stronger and to return to Arcana. He barely spent more than a few minutes each waking day when he wasn’t either training or earning money or both.
In the end, Terry was not sure Jasmine’s concerns were justified or if she was just projecting her worries over Daisy’s date with Alexander onto him. He was not sure he cared. He just had to make sure that nothing bad happened to Daisy.
Thinking of the masquerade ball that was waiting in his future, Terry subconsciously frowned while walking to his inn. He was half-way across the plaza before a thought entered his head.
Wait, will the representatives of the Dungeon Cooperative also be there?
The rest of the trip, Terry indulged in empty fantasies about punching a vague outline of a person.
***
It was noon and Terry arrived at the Flower House. He had sensed an unusual gathering in the reception room, but only when he saw the situation with his own eyes, could he start to make sense of it.
At the center of the group was Brandon on a chair. Crying. With a blackened eye that bled at the eyebrow as well as a swollen lip.
Daisy was speaking in a soft voice to the boy and patted him soothingly on the shoulder.
Jasmine was cleaning the wound at the boy’s eye.
Lavender was standing stone faced next to Jasmine.
Iris was leaning with crossed arms at a nearby wall and glowered at the whole situation.
Terry noticed that Brandon was grimacing when he saw him. The boy averted his eyes as if he was feeling ashamed of something.
When Jasmine spotted Terry, she handed the cloth and disinfectant to Lavender and then hurriedly walked up to him. “He got—”
“He doesn’t have the magic glove I gave him,” noted Terry matter-of-factly. His eyes never left the injured boy. The boy had always carried the glove around with him ever since Terry had given it to him.
“...yes,” muttered Jasmine and she explained what had happened earlier that morning when Brandon had returned from school. “...he described them. I can talk to the guards later. One man had a prominent scar on his throat.”
Them. Man. A group of adults did this. Struck at the head of a defenseless child.
“They should be able to figure out who—”
“No need,” muttered Terry faintly. He already knew where his glove was. As soon as he knew what to look for, the specific mana signature welled up in his consciousness. He retrieved a healing potion and handed it to Jasmine. “Use this.”
“That…” Jasmine hesitated but nodded and rushed to the boy.
Terry knew that the potion was overpowered for such an application, but he did not have anything else. He had bought it for his own use after all. It would not cause any problems, but if he looked at it in a detached manner, then it was quite a waste of money to use such a consumable for light wounds.
But Terry couldn’t look at it in a detached manner. He did not care about the money at this moment. He was once again sorely missing the healing wand that his uncle Samuel had given to him and that his opponent Xuan had taken from him in the Thanatos Proving Grounds.
“I can’t start right now, I have something to do first,” announced Terry. Involuntarily, his words had come out as a growl. He first averted his face and then turned around to leave. Before anyone could object, he was already gone on layers of divine mana.
***