Liam stepped through the flat disk of purple mana that he was becoming intimately familiar with, staggering forward with the staff of Avignon to support him. Nyota followed a pace behind him, unwilling to experience the pain of another hand mutation, but also too attached to be more than a few feet away from her lord. Behind the felinid Rhendal strolled through the portal, still foggy after being recently awoken and using his staff as a cane.
Through the purple disk a wide dirt road greeted the travelers, deep ruts showed signs of being recently filled in as workers made their way home for the harvest. Humble stone walls lay on either side of the road, built up by centuries of farmers who had pulled the small stones from their fields and thrown them aside. Piling them up along the edges of their plots until they formed the iconic low walls of Petran agriculture.
Petra took it’s name from the rocky soil and rough terrain that made up most of the fief, farming in a land like this required hard work. Trees had to be cleared, rocky soil had to be broken with a bladed plow. Over the course of hundreds of years, this tiny outpost grew into a burgeoning farming community, orchards grew between parcels of wheat and barley. With many pastures for pigs and goats. Because of the pastoral nature, Petra would make an excellent hunting ground for beasts.
Which kept Liam on his toes, scanning the area around them, hoping nothing was waiting for them. His finger guns were locked and loaded, roving over fields and orchards to find no enemies.
“Looks clear for now. Rhendal, which way to Petra?”
“Ah, this way m’lord. I put us a couple of miles out of town. In case Petra has already fallen.” Answered the sage nonchalantly.
As if he hadn’t casually let slip that a thousand people might already be dead. Liam’s jaw clenched shut, knowing the sage was right, but furious all the same. He hated this world, with its complete disregard for life and its staunch dependance on magical strength for their version of justice.
“Peace Lord Liam, can you see smoke rising?” Said Rhendal, pointing his staff towards the town.
For wispy trails of smoke rose above the intervening trees, evidence of scattered fires.
“Petra is burning, we must run!” Shouted Liam.
Laughter stopped him, freezing him in place with cold rage. He spun, scowling at Rhendal and found Nyota giggling as well. Confused and hurt Liam tried not to shout.
“What is so funny?” He snapped.
“Oh yes, let us run! Then we can stop Petra from burning their porrige.” Laughed Nyota.
What does cooking have to do with fires… Oh… Liam palmed his face, promptly understanding how much like an alien he was acting. Nyota and Rhendal broke down completely, roaring with laughter.
Ultimately he had to let it go, Petra needed them. Aside from the knee high stone walls there were no real defenses to speak of. Petra possessed stones, but no quarries, even the walls around their homes were meant to mark plots of land, often too short to restrain chickens. The council of Petra was little more than a green wizard and some village elders, meaning they had never maintained a militia and instead used their funds to purchase aid from the neighboring city of Sintra. Who possessed the only port in Greenwood and had a mercenary subculture.
In fact, their lack of defenses had been a major deciding factor when Arlet had prepositioned Baron Green to expand the Greenhaven militia. While they had no defenses Petra was a community that could never be lost in times of war, for they provided two critical resources to the barony.
First, Petra’s was the most productive farmland, the local legend said this was due to the blood of their fathers who had tamed the rocky soil that gave them their namesake. Green could not care less about why their land was fertile, all that mattered to him was the produce they delivered to Greenhaven and Sintra, as well as the excess food they were able to export.
Secondly, one of his fiefdom’s two home grown green wizards called Petra home. Also affectionately known as hedge wizards or green men. But given the name of the barony, most chose to call the two men by their names, Saul Earthshaper of Petra and Oberon Stoneshaker of Kesky. If their names were not evidence enough, their choices of residency divulged their main affinities. Baron Green’s memories educated Liam as they walked, reigniting old question.
“Hey Rhendal, I keep getting a notifica- uhm… I mean a voice in my head that says something about levels, and I struggle to recall anything of note on them, besides the level cap that Arlet hit.”
The old sage stopped, closing his eyes and groaning audibly and the stupid question. After a pause he spoke.
“Ah, levels my lord?” Sighed Rhendal, shaking his head, “You have indeed neglected your studies, but you are earnest enough now… Ahem.” Said Rhendal, clearing his throat for another lecture.
“Levels are a blessing from Taloc. When he departed the mortal realms to chase the false gods he left behind a shard of his power so we could judge and array ourselves based on merit. Levels are an approximation of one’s expertise, the higher the level the greater the man. Level one represents someone who is merely proficient in their class, for example a level zero fire mage can wield no magic deliberately, while a level one fire mage has a minor ability to command their affinity, such as lighting a candle. While a full hand mage —a level five— is considered to be someone of prominence, an expert in their field.”
Level five is an expert? How dafuq did I get past level ten then? Can I go past level ten inmy other affinities or just lightning?
“How large of an increase is it between each level?” Asked Liam, drawing a sharp groan out of the old man.
“I taught you all of this three decades ago!” Snapped Rhendal.
“My apologies master Rhendal, please enlighten me once more.” Goaded Liam.
Nyota pushed her way between them, taking hold of both their hands. Neither man had the heart to continue bickering.
“Bah! Fine! Each level is roughly the sum of the previous levels, for example a level one has a relative power level of one, but a level two has the relative power level of three.” Said Rhendal, stopping abruptly so Liam would have to continue the pattern.
“And a level three has the relative power of six, a level four the power of ten, etcetera, etcetera.”
Liam mentally ran the math on what a level thirteen lightning affinity would be and added his levels up to ninety one. Relative power meant little to him, but he realized the exponential nature of it meant he was spectacularly overleveled. A level ten sage —the theoretical maximum rank in this world— would command a relative power of fifty five, a mere pittance when compared to his own.
Makes sense, I absolutely crushed Heir Blackwood and his mage… Thoughts of the battle entered Liam’s mind, reminding him that he was now a murderer. An involuntary shudder ran through him, making him tear up, his throat went dry, and Liam felt pure unbridled disgust with himself.
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Stop! It was self defense, I had to…
Nyota pulled him forward, dragging him through his fugue and acting as a shield to keep Rhendal unawares of his guilt. Liam wrestled with himself, allowing the sage’s lecture to go unheard. He had never been as grateful for Nyota’s affection as he was then. Her warmth guided him back to the world of the present.
“You’ve given me much to consider, but I do not understand how a person who is multiclassed and multiskilled would function. How do those other levels affect your ‘relative power’?” Inquired Liam.
Rhendal closed his eyes and mumbled curses under his breath.
“You speak in absurdities man! Possessing even a second class is incredibly rare! To master your own class and another takes a genius, and a third, would make you a duke! To possess multiple skills on top is inconceivable!” Growled the elderly man.
I better not tell him that I’m pushing level twenty… He might have a conniption. Eager to change the subject Liam pressed on, hoping to waste a little more time before they reached Petra.
“Hey Rhendal, if you can make these portals. Do you think someone is behind these monsters?” Liam asked, changing the subject to another of his many problems.
“One absurd notion to the next.” He mumbled. “But… hmm, you have a curious mind, one far quicker than Baron Green’s. The timing of these portals could not be worse, nor could the creatures have been selected in a more lethal fashion. Still, the proposal is too outlandish to consider.”
“Educate me oh wise master of magic. While we have the luxury of a quiet classroom.” Said Liam, gesturing to the empty road in front of them.
Really, why did you portal us so far away Rhendal?
“Hmm, could someone be creating these creatures with magic?”
“Bah! Haha! My boy, the mana it would take to create a life is enormous, restoring life is hard enough, when last the Lord Bishop cast his resurrection it took hundreds of priests and a week of ceremony!”
Resurrection magic exists here? Sweet balls of fire! That’s awesome!
Rhendal saw the gleam of curiosity in Liam’s eye.
“No! Do not even think about that ceremony! It has been forbidden to be performed without the unanimous approval of all twelve Archbishops.” Snapped Rhendal.
He was vaguely familiar with that term, the church of the Fulminonibus was not as rigidly structured as the Catholic church, but the Lord Bishop was roughly equal to the pope, and the Archbishops were closer to Cardinals, though he wasn’t entirely sure what a Cardinal did in his own world.
So Liam shrugged it off, assuming that the Archbishop nomenclature had most likely been used first and the need for Cardinals had not manifested itself until the church grew in population. Give this world a few more centuries and their population would probably require more tiers in their hierarchy.
Liam glanced to Nyota, giddy that she was with him, hands intertwined. Her eyes watched the fields of wheat around them as her ears constantly turned and twisted, listening for any sounds that might warn them of danger.
“Hypothetically speaking, how many wizards of a similar caliber to you would it take to summon so many portals?” Asked Liam.
“I am a sage! One of the divine classes you dunce. There aren’t enough of us in the world to summon this many portals.” Hollered Rhendal.
“My apologies, I meant how many mages, with an m.” Corrected Liam, trying to defuse the tempestuous sage.
“You’ll be the death of me Lord Liam. Hundreds of shadow magi would be required each day and darkness is not a beloved affinity. All the human kingdoms combined could not field such a horde of power.”
Rhendal opened his mouth to shout at him once more, then closed it abruptly, something in Liam’s words had piqued his inquisitive side.
“Not remotely enough mages, the numbers I worked out would be greater than all the recorded mages in the kingdom.”
All the recorded mages? No records are without error, not every mage is discovered, and some might want to hide from the authorities. The way he says that makes me wonder if somehow all the mages in the kingdom are aligned against us, or if their magic is being siphoned away and used to destroy us.
“Do you think they are all being drained and used against us?” Asked Liam.
“I shall speak no more of this. Mankind cannot fathom the wrath of Taloc.” Ordered Rhendal abruptly, stroking his beard with a pensive tick.
Odd advice, but Liam shrugged it off. Religion played a far larger role in this world than in his past life. God was the cause of everything, every good fortune, or every curse. A strangely monotheistic philosophy that also included an older pantheon of lesser gods.
Conversely, Liam had to acknowledge the people’s devotion. Avignon was a small town, poor and isolated. Yet, they had managed to build a cathedral by devoting decades to the work. Despite father Sebestian’s embezzlement. Liam rolled the priest’s staff over in his hands, feeling the mana contained within, vaguely reminding him of the murder he had committed.
No, I was carrying out my duties as lord. The man was scum, a liar who cheated his people, letting them get torn apart by snu snu orcs while he had the power to save them. It was a justified execution… Why doesn’t that make me feel better? What would Sarah think? What does Nyota think?
Nyota squeezed his hand, waking him from his dark revelry with an affectionate smile. This catgirl had saved his life. Wait, why am I still calling her a catgirl?
“Rhendal, you called Nyota something strange a few days ago. What was it? An elipsical-cat-arch?”
Rhendal snorted at the mispronunciation, trying not to laugh.
“Bwahahaha! Lord Liam. She is an Eclipsiarch. A monarch of the night, But be warned, do not go spouting that in public!”
Nyota cocked her head slightly, twitching her ears to better hear them. Almost as if they were speaking gibberish.
“You really do not know anything of this world.” Said Rhendal.
“I have baron Green’s memories, but he drank more in a day than I consumed in my whole life. Everything is blurry, confused. I only have snippets-”
“Watch your tongue! There may be Petrans working their fields, and by her look, you didn’t bother to tell her.” Snapped Rhendal, looking at Nyota.
Liam turned to the woman at his side, realizing he hadn’t told her anything... Nyota had been at his side since he awoke in this world, effortlessly becoming his shadow. I’m an idiot! Why didn’t I tell her already? Seeing the look of puzzlement on her face he realized the extent of his mistake. How am I going to explain this to her without sounding like a madman?
Nyota looked into his eyes, her oval pupils endlessly trusting.
“I wouldn’t care if you’re a body snatcher… But you aren’t, cause you’re my Lightning Lord.” She said evenly, as if that simple statement explained everything.
“What does that even mean?” Wondered Liam aloud. Drawing an even louder chortle from Rhendal.
The sage stopped moving forward, stepping off the path he sat on a low stone wall and patted the pebbles beside him. Liam complied, placing his mutated hand on the wall to guide himself onto it, to his shock his fingernails were now proper claws, pointed and sharp.
Nyota’s hand seemed to be unchanged, but she hardly noticed. The Eclipsiarch only had eyes for Liam. Pupils dilating in awe of his new hand, making Liam self conscious.
Maybe that was stupid, but if it increases my healing affinity then screw it! after all, I’m a noble, I can wear one glove whenever and everyone will just think I’m quirky.
“Lord Liam, I need a moment, and since there are no screams coming from Petra we ought to rest here for a while. I have not traveled so hastily in decades. And there is a story I wish to share with you.”
“Very well, I’m not much younger myself. We should have brought horses, or a few knights.”
“No, you were right to leave them there. The people of Avignon will never forget how you left your personal guard with them in their time of crisis. Besides, you put the kingdom’s royal magicians to shame with that thunder of yours. If your magic is not enough then the blades of a handful of knights certainly won’t tip the scales.”
Liam smiled, thanking his godly fortune for Rhendal. The wisest sage in the entire kingdom called him lord, without his guidance they would have already been overrun. Maybe, just maybe, there was a god guiding his path.
“Rhendal, I tremble to think where we would be without your guidance. Please, accept me as your humble student.”
“Ha, Lord Liam! Who said you were not already my student?” Said Rhendal with a cunning grin.
“How else can we explain your late awakening? Or your absurd control over lightning? Should any nobles ask, you must tell them I have been instructing you in private.”
Liam smiled and nodded in assent.
“Excellent. Now, I must explain the fall of the Eclipsiarchs and how the felines of this world came to be enslaved…”