The bustle of the city was a pleasant backdrop to her morning. Mage-adept Newbanks walked calmly through the streets, listening to the chatter of citizens going about their day. Stall owners calling out their deals of the day, parents scolding their children for running off. Everything blending together into a beautiful melody reminding her of what she had dedicated herself to protecting.
Arriving at the Tower of Magic, she walked through the large gate while nodding to the guards and novice mages manning the entry counter. She hadn’t been in Dorchester long, but her psychic signature was registered, and by now everyone could recognize her on sight. After all, for all intents and purposes, she was the acting court mage, despite having only met the leadership council twice.
Ostensibly, she had come to Dorchester for the opportunity to work with Arch-mage Jennings and to be where the action was at. The region was currently undergoing a density shift, and the scuttle-but around Hennings made the place seem like it was rife with political intrigue and danger. Using that perception as a smoke-screen, she had forced herself into position and no one questioned her motives.
Stepping into an elevator, she nodded to the two young mages who were obviously intimidated to be sharing an elevator with her. She kept her features blank, letting them fidget without paying any attention to them. She had more important things on her mind at the moment.
Since arriving in Dorchester, she had several tasks which needed to be done with utmost secrecy. All of which she had performed to perfection. Now, it was finally time to report in. Who knew what new orders she would receive? More random tasks which she would only understand after they were accomplished? Perhaps she would be eliminating threats to Oglivarch more directly.
The door to the elevator opened, and the two young mages quickly departed, leaving her alone in the elevator. She watched the doors close, maintaining her mask of indifference. When the doors opened again, she walked out of the elevator into a stone corridor reserved for the most powerful mages in the city.
Making her way to her office, she idly cast a perception spell to see if anyone was paying attention to her at the moment. She was powerful, but being able to sense an observer was more than she could handle without aid. She maintained the spell, carefully studying the essence echos while she opened her office door.
After closing and locking it, she closed her eyes and focused. Through her link, she activated the privacy settings. Feeling the flows envelope the room in wards, she let her essence field expand, scouring the room for anything out of place. After confirming she was alone, and isolated, she walked to the wall.
Reaching out, she removed a painting and placed her hand on the stone. Delicately, she altered the essence flows, revealing a hidden shelf inside the wall. She pulled out an intricately designed communication orb. Its diameter was nearly a foot, and thin designs in mithril filigree were wrapped around the dark crystal. She carefully placed it on her desk, linking it to the relays camouflaged as pen holders. The relays were in turn connected to a hidden power generator she had personally installed under the floor.
Weeks of effort had led to this moment. Hours of clandestine work to make sure everything was in place, and ready. Mentally checking the time, she stood in place, frozen. She waited patiently for the correct time to arrive, then leaned forward and held her hand over the orb. The essence flowed smoothly, and she felt the orb activate. As it reached out for its twin, she took 3 large steps back, and waited.
In front of the orb, a scry window winked into existence, the image expanding until it reached all the way to the walls and the ceiling. It looked like a pane of glass, cutting the room in half, shimmering and smokey. The image stabilized, and she could see the majestic room she was now connected to.
She felt her heart lurch, and she knelt quickly. Holding her right hand to her chest, she lowered her head and said, “Greetings, sire. I am proud to announce that all tasks were completed as requested. I am eager to get started on my next assignment. What would you have of me, my king?”
King Oliver Oglivarch looked at the kneeling woman with a slight, but gentle, smile on his face. He replied, “Rise, you have done well, adept. Take heart in knowing that your actions have significantly altered the fate of Dorchester. The likelihood of the city falling has dropped considerably. But there is still more to do. Are you prepared to follow this path to wherever it may lead? Not everyone has the constitution to become a populator. The demands are harsh, the tasks are without reward, and the only comfort you will have is knowing that the kingdom exists because people like you are working in secret to ensure it. It will be decades of sacrifice, and you may not ever succeed in earning your armor.”
Standing up, Mage-adept Catherine Newbanks’ face lost its mask. Her eyes were hard, devoid of fear and indecision. Her voice was firm and confident as she replied, “I am, my king. I need no laurels or accolades. My path is wide and clear. I will be a populator, whether in a hundred years or a thousand. I will do everything in my power to make sure Oglivarch does not suffer while it waits for me to be ready.”
The king smiled at the young woman, her fervent desire to improve herself warmed his heart. “Very well, adept. I doubt I’ll still be on this plane when you do, but know that I will always be watching. For now, let’s focus on the tasks at hand. Tell me how each of your assignments went, I watched what I could, but I cannot always be paying attention. So, from the beginning, tell me everything.”
Nodding firmly, she replied, “Yes, my king. As you know, when last we spoke, it was at the dinner with my parents and the queen at the palace. After receiving your orders, I made my way immediately to the Hennings Tower of Magic. There I did as we discussed and maneuvered myself into the position here in Dorchester. As ordered, I didn’t kill the mage who was supposed to take up the position of court mage.”
She continued speaking for some time, all the while the king listened intently. Occasionally asking questions and causing her to mentally relive moments to see what she had missed. The entire time, she marveled at the king’s attention to detail. She was surprised at what he knew, and what he had missed. Rather than shake her faith in him, it ensured it. The kingdom was safe in his hands, he would make sure of it.
Eventually, she reached the end of her story, and the king nodded in silence, rubbing his chin in thought. “Good,” he said. “Everything seems to be progressing within acceptable standards of deviation. Now, how much do you know about the mountain abutting the city?”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Confused at the direction of the conversation, she replied, “Not much, sire. Why?”
The king smiled, and replied, “Well, here is what’s most likely going to happen, and how we are going to stop it.” He went on to detail what he expected to happen, and how he wanted her to deal with it.
As the king spoke, Mage-adept Newbanks listened closely. She had a lot of work to do, and even more ensuring no one knew about it.
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Their speed wasn’t much slower than normal, despite the group now being led by a steel clad Sergeant Wesker. Nero caught himself constantly glancing at the man’s back, he couldn’t help it. For some reason, he was having trouble with the idea of a man in full plate wearing a backpack. To him, Wesker looked so ridiculous it was distracting.
In fact, everything seemed to be distracting him. He tried to keep focused on his assigned area of the forest, but it was harder than it should be. Over the past week, he’d gotten used to scanning his side of the forest as they traveled, but now it was like everything pulled his attention. His mind felt fuzzy, and distracted. It was like he was only half awake, and things kept drawing his eyes. Odd birds, colorful plants, vines which made cool patterns, even picturesque shafts of sunlight distracted him from his duty. His psychic field wasn’t any better.
Worse yet, the longer he maintained his shield, the harder it was to hold it together. And every time his focus wavered, the shield became a little less stable. He felt like he was trying to juggle multiple balls while doing math, and every time he got a problem wrong, he dropped a ball but had to throw the remaining balls higher, upping the difficulty.
Despite the problems, he soldiered on admirably.
The group made their way back toward where they’d fought the mob, the sergeant eager for some payback. As they walked, Nero listened to them planning the upcoming engagement. He was too distracted to contribute, but he did at least listen as best he could.
Nick’s responsibility was to put up another defensive wall the moment the mob was sighted, providing a safe place for the group to defend. This time however, he wouldn’t make an opening for Wesker to defend. Instead, Wesker would rush forward and confront the mob head on while the rest of the group hid behind the walls, defending Rose as she attacked from range.
Nero didn’t understand what Wesker planned to do exactly, but he was really too distracted to care. The only positive was that his center wasn’t being wasted. Apparently, after infusing a shield with center, the only upkeep was mental. That is until the caster needed to recharge it. Unfortunately, the longer Nero held the shield, the more center seemed to leak out of it. It was like running with a leaky bucket.
Time passed as Nero kept pace with the group, doing his best not to be a burden. He couldn’t tell if anyone was noticing his stumbling, but he didn’t have the spare brainpower to care. The more time passed, the worse his attention span became.
“Contact left!” he heard, pulling his attention from the butterfly that had been distracting him. Looking around, he saw the edge of the mob running at them along the forest floor. They hopped over logs, dodged trees, their little maws bared to show their teeth. The moment the mob realized it had been spotted, the entire swarm of dogs started snarling and barking in a cacophony of irritating noises.
Nero stumbled to a stop, staring blankly at the oncoming enemies. He felt Nick move past him on his right, and Nero dumbly stared at his friend’s back. His mushy brain wondered, ‘Hey, Nick hasn’t had a haircut since I met him, has he? But it looks the same as it always has… what’s up with that?’
Standing there, Nero reached up and gently grabbed some of his own hair. Holding it up away from his head, he tried to measure how long it was at the moment. The gravity of the situation was completely lost on him.
As Wesker charged forward to confront the mob, mud-walls rose up to surround their small group. This time, Nick had made a large circle with them in the middle. Meanwhile the sergeant would confront the mob out in the open.
Nero didn’t pull his sword, or even pull a weapon from his personal space, he just stared blankly at the excitement happening all around him. That was until he felt a ‘thud’ on the back of his head.
Like ears popping, reality slammed into him at full force, dropping him to his knees. His essence-shield shattered like glass, causing a spike in his brain that brought tears to his eyes. The sounds of the forest gained substance, and the barking and snarling of the mob once again had meaning. The incessant ‘thwip’ of Rose’s arrows, along with the resultant yelps of pain brought forth by Cathleen’s spear cracking skulls, hit him all at once. It all happened in a second, everything becoming clear as a bell.
Nero heard an amused Nick speak up from his right, “Snap out of it, Nero. Practice partitioning your mind later, we’re in combat now. How about you join us for a bit.”
Struggling to his feet, Nero drew his sword and looked around. Nick had his own rapier out, covering one side of the 4ft mud wall, which was solidly built and maybe a foot thick. The dogs had very little chance of getting over it, and Nick barely had anything to do. Turning to his left, he saw Cathleen with her spear over her head, stabbing downward over the wall, causing death and destruction as if she were a machine. Stab, pull back, stab, pull back, over and over again. All the while, Rose stood in the middle firing arrows into the mob which now surrounded their little oasis.
Turning back to the area of the wall he was standing right next to, he saw tens of paws clawing at the outside edge of the wall. Considering he was only a little over 5ft tall, he was barely able to see over the wall. As a result, he was only able to stare straight out into the forest. It did however give him enough of a view to see Sergeant Wesker ripping apart dogs while dual wielding axes like a boss. Yet, as fast as the man killed them, they vanished into smoke around him forming more of the little monsters just as quickly.
As his mind cleared, Nero shook his head fiercely, forcing his brain to start working again. His psychic field wasn’t active, and the lack of sensory input caused the world to feel like a movie, lacking that little something he had gotten used to with reality. The condensed essence he usually had wrapped around him was gone as well, making him feel a little naked. Not being able to feel his companions subtle emotions made them all feel a little unreal. Realizing what was missing, he prioritized opening up his mind, and his field spread out through the surrounding either.
Luckily, there were no after effects of whatever had been going on in his head. At first, the mob’s field caused everything to be blurry, but Nero had plenty of practice learning how to compensate. A second or two later, and his field adjusted to ignore the interference. The fight became clear, and he felt like himself once again.