John’s office would turn out to be near the centre of the town, next to a water fountain that showed a beautiful nude woman who, upon closer inspection, had gills and webbed fingers and feet. A placque at the base of the fountain declared it to be Elamira the naiad, who had apparently blessed the fountain upon Valda’s founding to produce fresh and clean water so long as the statue stood.
The Guardian of Valda, like most of his profession, lived above his office, the middle-aged mage settled down at his desk by the time they arrived, a glowing crystal in pride of place and his lightning wand in easy reach.
“Hope they didn’t give you any trouble Evan?” He said, the words not quite an accusation as he glared at the six members of the ‘First Response Squad’.
“No trouble at all, they’ve been perfect guests.” Evan replied, “Want me to leave you folks to it?”
“If you would, Harriet was looking for you, apparently her husband’s sick enough he couldn’t get out of bed this morning. If it’s something nasty I’d rather you nipped it in the bud.”
The healer nodded, “Consider it done.”
The Guardian gave them all a gimlet glare once Evan was safely out of the way, “The crystal’s fine, you can check it yourselves.”
Natalya stepped forwards to check it as Erebus sighed, “Are we really going to do this stupid standoff every time we talk Guardian Mill?”
The geomancer’s contempt was palpable as he answered, “If I have to.”
“It’s clean.” Natalya replied before Erebus could retort, “No tampering and it seems to be functional across the board.”
“See, no message, no tampering, now get your overpaid arses out of my town.” John growled.
“Have you tried actually sending a message with it?” Erebus suggested, Natalya returning to stand beside him, staying clear of his aim and in place to reinforce a magical shield. Whatever their differences they were doing a good act of a squad leader and his trusted second in front of John, they had afterall had plenty of practice even if back then the roles had been reversed.
“No. Last thing I want is to make some jumped up clerk tetchy for wasting their time and getting me reassigned to some barren hellscape… if I send a message will you leave then?”
“If you send a message and it receives a response… yes we’ll leave.”
“Fine then.” John placed a hand on the message crystal, sending a small pulse of mana and the crystal pulsed purple in response, “Priority one message to Council Logistics. Begin message; requesting confirmation of messenger crystal function, got some folks from Response saying it’s sending error codes. End message.” The crystal returned to it’s limpid blue, “See, it’s working.”
“We’ll see.” Natalya replied evenly, “What’s the average turn around time on a priority message?”
“Two minutes. Five maximum.” Erebus replied before John could, “If you have access to the emergency line… I heard one guy got fired for taking ten seconds to respond.”
It was a fairly tense two minutes, for Holly at least, Guardian Mill had not relaxed in the slightest, something she could not understand, these were fellow mages, claiming to be here to help and yet his body language just screamed impending violence; when he himself wasn’t outright saying it.
“That’s late.” Erebus noted, mostly to break the silence, “Still think everything is fine Guardian?”
“We’re a small town, we’re probably very low priority.” John countered, but the words were slow, uncertain.
“Maybe. Mind if I send a message?” The necromancer said casually, reaching for the crystal.
“As long as you take the blame, no problem.”
Erebus rested his hand on the small crystal, which almost instantly turned red.
“What did you do?!” John demanded, almost leaping out of his seat, wands in hand now.
“Two. Activated the emergency beacon. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.” He stared pointedly at the Guardian, “Still think you haven’t got a problem?”
“There’s definitely a problem. I’m not convinced you haven’t caused it.” He declared, “But equipment failure doesn’t mean there’s a rash of disappearances, I’m pretty sure I’d know about that.”
Erebus was not a believer in divine intervention, he knew the gods that remained and interventionist they were not. He’d gone to great lengths to slip any scrying lock the yet unidentified bard might have on him, and thus it could only have been real serendipity, superlative in its majesty, that led to that the door bursting open and a young woman, likely barely out of whichever academy had trained her and also in geomancer brown, stepped in, hands on her knees as she fought to get enough breath to gasp out, “Liam and Cal Valstrom are missing! So are the Maliks and I don’t know how many others.”
The necromancer’s eyes gleamed, claiming disappearances had been a calculated lie, sadly it didn’t differentiate which of the two leading theories it was.
If it was a temporal loop then there would have almost certainly been people cut out of it, and he was willing to bet that the reset point was either dawn or midnight, no one who practiced the deep black magics, the ones people denied even existed, lacked for a sense of melodrama.
On the other hand if it was an illusionist then this latest revelation was certainly intriguing, it meant the illusionist was aware of them and playing along. The lie that was no longer a lie certainly helped there, the fewer people they were forced to simulate the lighter their workload would be.
“Perhaps we can be of assistance?”
“Definitely not. I’m still not convinced you’re not responsible for this.” John growled, “If anything this only increases my suspicion, it would take hours to scramble a First Response team and yet this is the first I’m hearing of this.”
“Who are these people boss?” The woman asked, stepping slowly back toward John, pulling a wand of her own on the group.
“They claim to be a First Response Squad investigating disappearances. Comms are down so I’m unable to confirm a word they say.” John told her, not even glancing in her direction. Erebus had to give him points for that, and would bet the true names of several demons that the surly geomancer had done quite well on the duelling fields before he’d been assigned here. He noted the inquiring looks the young mage was getting, “Mage Illvere is doing her apprenticeship as a Guardian.”
“These are a First Response team?” The incredulity was understandable. Pretty much all the mages could fondly remember their time training, whether at the Necropolis or the Vulcanus, and First Response had been built up as the best of the best, professional, sleek and drilled to a fault.
From a mere visual inspection they wouldn’t fit the bill, two necromancers, neither of who’s robes sported accolades and who were, frankly, looking more than a little sunken around the eyes, a pyromancer, again undecorated and appearing almost younger than she was, an old man who didn’t even have a mage’s robe, the semi-conscious Sato still muttering to himself and who’s robe she almost certainly wouldn’t be able to identify, and a young dryad who was looking wide-eyed and panicked. Only Lana really looked the part, the demoness a towering figure in her needle-adorned mail, her gaze imperious as she stared at the young mage like she was an insect she was debating squashing.
The motley group certainly would have been out of place in First Response. Of course as a Second Response team they’d have been derided as overly conformist and plain.
That was potentially one of the reasons Guardian Mill was so suspicious of them, he’d likely interacted with enough First Response teams, possibly even been part of one, that he knew he was dealing with a dragon pretending to be a mere wolf. Amara didn’t envy him, if she’d been in his shoes it would have put her teeth on edge, and she had significantly sturdier teeth than the average mage.
John Mill scowled, “They certainly claim to be. Still if it came to a fight I suspect it wouldn’t go well for me, so you vagabonds can at least make yourselves useful.”
“Of course Guardian. We are here to help. If you trust nothing else of what we’ve said trust that.” Erebus replied, and that bit at least was honest. “Still we have our own wounded to consider, may we leave poor Sato with your healer, perhaps with a guard? If someone is disappearing the people of Valda then a wounded mage is an appealing target.”
“Fine. Select one of your people, preferably one with healing experience, if they’re going to be taking up space in our infirmary they can at least do the work.”
Erebus barely had to think about it, “Nat’s my second and has close to a century of experience,” A lot more than that in fact but even a century was pushing the limits of their cover story, “Give Healer Evan a hand and coordinate out of the infirmary. Lana go with her, if we’re investigating then you’re likely to scare the locals.”
Natalya nodded once, taking Sato from Amara with a grunt of effort, it was surprising just how heavy a limp body was and she lacked the pyromancer’s vampiric vigour. She didn’t leave yet, wanting to hear the rest of the plan.
“The rest of you can help me investigate. Mage Illvere, escort these people to the Valstrom house, I’ll investigate the Malik residence with Necromaster Erebus.” John ordered, guessing Erebus’ rank and half-expecting to be challenged on giving orders as well but doomed to disappointment on both counts.
“That works for us. Alice, Amara, go with Mage Illvere. Holly you’re with me.” The necromancer ordered. John didn’t argue, even he could see that Holly didn’t present much of a threat and likely thought the dryad had been bonded to the necromancer, if he was even aware how a soul graft worked at all.
*
The Valstrom household would prove to be a small cottage in the centre of town. Mage Illvere, who on the walk over Amara and Alice had learned was called Olivia, was talking with the rather distraught parents as the two veterans investigated the house itself, wanting to stay unprejudiced by the parents’ account of events.
It was a well kept three room affair with an outhouse, with all the hallmarks of a family that had selected cleanliness as a suitable replacement for wealth on the social ladder. The children had shared a bedroom, there were a few toys on the floor, a carved wooden figure of a horse, some straw dolls with whatever uniform they’d originally had long worn away and a wooden ball that glowed different colours upon being tapped. Amara would guess it the personal work of Guardian Mill, towns like this tended not to have an abundance of mages and she doubted Evan had the time nor Olivia the experience.
“No signs of a struggle.” Alice noted gruffly, the shapeshifter grimacing as she forced a very minor internal shift and began sniffing the air. “Noone other than the children and the parents, for what little that matters.”
Amara scowled, “I could have done that Al, vampire remember.”
The shifter looked down at her feet, “I had actually forgotten.”
“Most illusionists forget smell.” The vampire noted, “Anything else stick out to you?”
“The covers on the beds.” She rasped, trying to fight the need to cough, “If someone had taken the children then you’d expect them to be pulled aside but they’re still tucked in.”
Amara checked. Alice was of course right, the sheets almost immaculate but for a rumpling in the middle where a child had lain, there was even still an imprint on the pillow. “That is weird.” She concurred. “I’d say it leans towards an illusionist, it’s like they simulated a bed with a person sleeping in it and forgot the person. A temporal loop would be geographically bounded, not vanishing people in the centre of town.”
“Since when were you an expert on chronomancy?” Alice arched a bushy eyebrow.
“I’m not. But it’s a fairly basic rule of enchantment that it affects an area or object so unless our mystery mage randomly decided to exclude two children and almost no one else it’s a safe guess.”
“Of course there’s always possibility three.” The shapeshifter observed in lieu of any extra evidence, there really was very little, it was like the children had simply evaporated. “That’s it’s not related to our mystery mage at all.”
“What are the chances of that?” Amara snorted, incredulous and understandably so.
“High enough that I wouldn’t want to bet our lives that it’s not that.” The shifter shrugged, “Any non-zero probability becomes a certainty over infinite time.”
“That sounds like an Erebus line.”
“It is.” Alice admitted.
“You’re forgetting possibility four.” Susan said, giggling as she detached from the wall, the shadow far too pleased with the way Amara had come a split second from blasting her.
“Which is?” The shapeshifter a lot less jumpy than the creature of the night.
“A shadow could have done it, if they were careful enough about not disturbing the surrounding space.”
“I thought shadows couldn’t cross the shadowgate?” Amara replied, looking a touch confused at the idea.
“Well so did I until I became one, and I’m here aren’t I?” Susan pointed out, “It doesn’t help the illusion versus chronomancy debate in the slightest but if a shadow had taken the children it would look much like this.”
“So would teleportation.” The vampire countered.
“True. The possibilities really are too large to narrow it down..” The shadow stepped back, melding back into the darkness of the wall, “I only suggest it because that is something that would chew through mages no matter how skilled.”
*
Across town a similar conversation was occurring, the Maliks had apparently been triplet brothers, well into adulthood, who’d lived on the outskirts of Valda and made their living tending sheep, never really bothering anyone. The only reason anyone had even realised they were missing was that they tended to come to town once a week for a beer and a meal that wasn’t porridge or mutton and they’d not been there last night. They and their flock were missing and Erebus’ investigation had turned up absolutely nothing, a point Guardian Mill would have delighted in rubbing in if he hadn’t found even less.
The necromancer was having some difficulty keeping John alive, the small shack was close enough to the barrier that there was a real risk of him stepping through by accident.
He was fairly sure he knew what had happened, there’d likely been a disturbance in the night and the brothers had gone to investigate, disintegrating on the barrier or being outside the loop when it reset – if it were a loop.
Figuring out how to clue John in, or even if to do so, was hard though, the geomancer had remained standoffish and obstinately refused to turn his back on Erebus, a fact that had slowed their investigation considerably.
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“Can you make out anything?” Erebus asked Holly, even John taking an interest in the dryad who had her ear pressed to the ground as she lay upon the grass.
“Nothing you’ll find useful.” She admitted, “Plants aren’t smart at the best of times, when there’s a whole forest you get a kind of collective voice that can give you detail but this is just grass. All I can give you is that something stood on it in a hurry last night then just vanished without trace. And that’s the translated version.”
“That’s something at least.” The necromancer assured her, helping her back to her feet with both hands, staff held in the crook of his elbow, then after a moment adding for John’s benefit, “Not many magics that can just remove a person. Especially without any sort of collateral. Say a pyromancer burned someone to even less than ash, the earth here would still be glowing from the heat.”
Mill gave him a slow look, “Presuming I take your dryad at her word, what magics could do it then?”
“Entropic magics. Some of the more advanced applications of necrotic spells. Teleportation, though telefragging would be overkill on shepherds. Hmm… geomancy could technically do it but the plants would have noticed that. Technically it would be possible to levitate them away and dispose of them later but again that’s overkill. Did I forget any?”
“A dryad could have done it.” John said pointedly. “And a demonic rift would be similar.”
“A mature dryad who’s spread her roots maybe,” Erebus batting the accusation aside, “and we’d still be smelling brimstone a week later if someone had been dumb enough to shunt them into the Hells.”
“We should search the area.” The geomancer declared stubbornly.
Erebus sighed, it was a reasonable precaution and any attempt to stop it would just be more suspicious than the truth. “You might not want to do that.”
“And why’s that?”
In answer Erebus picked a stone out of the grass and tossed it through the barrier, the rock disappearing without a sound. “Because that.”
John leapt away from invisible barrier as if he’d been struck by lightning, sprawling on the grass before rolling to his feet, too far past his prime to make it graceful but competently done all the same. “When were you planning on telling me?”
“I wasn’t. People do foolish things when they know they’re trapped. The last thing I wanted was a bunch of panicked townsfolk trying to rush a disintegration field.”
John opened his mouth to protest, then shut it himself, too much grey in his hair to deny Erebus’ point. He’d seen what happened when crowds panicked and once it set in it was almost impossible to stop. “What do you propose then?”
“I don’t know.” Erebus admitted, “Best I can offer you is that you can’t set up a spell like this without something to power it, and a mana crystal or mage that powerful should be like a beacon yet I’m not sensing a thing, are you?”
“Most powerful thing I sense is you. And you’re not that strong.” John conceded.
“How mages are there in Valda total?”
“Just me, Evan and Olivia. And we’re lucky it’s not just me.”
“Hmm. Well either someone’s hiding their talent well or you’ve got intruders beyond my team. I’d suggest quietly going door to door, anything this powerful and I can’t see any shielding or screening holding in close proximity.”
“I can actually do my job.” The Guardian growled.
“Then go do it. I’ll head back to the infirmary, don’t want to scare anyone and one of us should bring Evan into the loop.”
*
By the time Erebus got to the infirmary he had to shove his way to the door, the thick oak door wide open as Lana stood imposingly in the doorway, stopping the people gathered outside from rushing it.
“We know you have sick. We are currently dealing with the most urgent cases.” The demoness declared, the sheer terror of her presence doing far more than her measured words.
It wasn’t helping that they could hear some of what was going on inside.
“I don’t understand it I’m still losing him.” Natalya all but yelled, the words strained in a manner Erebus found all too familiar, the necromancer was doing some seriously heavy duty magic and even splitting her attention enough to speak was taxing.
“Just keep him alive until I get there.” Evan’s voice, far more calm but with the same strain, “If I can just… just… swap places necromancer, you’ll do more good for them now than I can. Hurry.”
A few seconds reprieve then. “Nothing, they’re gone just like the others.”
Erebus finally managed to elbow his way to the front, abandoning Holly who hadn’t the experience on how to sidle between people as well as when to deploy a carefully placed shoulder or elbow. Lana almost looking grateful as she let him in.
The infirmary had ten beds and all of them were full, and, a brief check with necromancy confirmed, what they were full of was corpses, and worse they were all children. That probably meant something but he wasn’t sure what yet.
Nat was moving back over to the one patient still alive and barely at that, Healer Evan had a hand on the young man, more a boy really, and green sparks were almost pouring off the point of contact as the mage put everything he had into a panacea.
Erebus was impressed at that, even for a Healer First Class that was a hell of a spell to pull off, and it was a pity that it didn’t seem to be mattering a damn. The young man’s cheeks were hollow beyond the point of sallow, his lips cracked, chapped and bleeding even as Nat helped him take sips of water. The teen’s clothes were several sizes too big for him and Erebus could see his ribs starkly where the cloth rested upon his chest.
None of which made any sense. The panacea was a ludicrously inefficient spell despite being the most powerful in any mage’s arsenal because it hit everything, malnourishment, dehydration, starvation, disease, disfiguration and dismemberment, all fell before the blade of a panacea and yet all Evan was achieving was drenching himself with sweat.
There was one last rattle from the boy and then he was gone, the spell fizzling out as Evan collapsed back into a chair, looking defeated and broken.
“Gone again.” Nat said more quietly, looking about as withdrawn as Erebus had ever seen.
“What happened?” Her former protégé asked gently as he put up a privacy ward, and was surprised the other mages hadn’t already done so before looking around at the corpses that were, he realized, desiccating before his eyes.
“I have no idea.” Natalya admitted, “They just… died. If I hadn’t been in the room I’d have sworn a succubus or wraith had killed them, something just… sucked the life out of them.”
“We need to clear the beds.” Evan said weakly, forcing himself back up onto his feet.
Erebus idly pushed him back in his chair with a whispered spell and a hand made of air, “No. You’re tapped out. And there’s no point.”
“Not even going to check my homework?” Natalya teased weakly, too defeated even to push back against him.
“I trust you. If you couldn’t heal them then they can’t be healed.”
“I might have missed something.” And Erebus was stunned and saddened to hear hope in her voice.
“I doubt it.” He told her, “Damage control. Got to start damage control.” The last bit mostly for himself as he stepped towards the door, Lana wordlessly stepping aside to let him address the crowd.
“Please, good people,” He began, never a good start, “due to the dangers of an outbreak from the infirmary itself please return to your homes. If you leave your name with my bodyguard she will pass it on to Healer Evan who will attend your loved ones when he is available.”
As expected the little speech went down about as well as a fart at a funeral. Noone wanted to leave and everyone wanted to talk to Evan instead. It was all Erebus could do to keep the scowl off his face, it wasn’t like he could just tell them that Evan was already passed out in his chair where he’d used his entire magicka supply but that that was okay because his help wasn’t worth a damn either way and not from lack of talent.
Instead the necromancer just smiled at the angry crowd, “If you’ve any issues with this please take it up with Lana.” As he said this Holly finally managed to get to the front, more or less running inside, not that he blamed her. Stepping back inside Erebus ignored the thud as Lana closed the door, the demoness staying outside to handle the crowd, it was a good call, they might be angry but it was unlikely they were angry enough to rush a demon lord, especially when the demon lord was spiky enough to kill several of them just by standing in the way.
“Have you ever seen anything like it Ere?” Natalya asked, ignoring the lightly snoring Evan and even Erebus didn’t have the callousness needed to wake him. In the short time he’d been outside the bodies had moved from dehydrated to fully desiccated. Whatever had happened was still in full effect.
“Looks like blood magic.” He said with a shrug, “Except I don’t see how they could be making a channel with so many victims at once. Start mixing blood and it’s as likely to explode in your face as produce the desired effect, and that likelihood increases as the number of targets does.”
“And here we are without a thaumaturge.” The other necromancer grumbled, shaking her head. She might not have been exhausted as Evan, or as Erebus suspected just hiding it better, but he could see her eyelids threatening to droop.
Crossing the room Erebus grabbed her wrist, sending a quick pulse of healing through the contact, hiding his smile as Natalya jerked back to alertness. “What did you just do?”
“A purge of the built up lactic acid in your muscles, the serotonin in your nervous system and added some caffeine for good luck. It won’t last, and your body is still as overworked as it was, but it will keep you functioning.” He explained, “Just bear in mind that you’re going to pay for any exertion from now until you sleep, and you will sleep like the dead.”
“Useful.” Nat noted, “Why didn’t they teach us this at the Conclave Vitalis?”
“Because it’s tantamount to dread healing, start tossing this stuff around idly and you’ll see people crippling themselves. Desperate times my friend, desperate times. Now, you mentioned wanting a thaumaturge?”
“Yeah. I think you’re right, if you ignore the fact it’s targeting so many people at once blood magic fits. It also explains why no amount of healing works, as long as that connection is there you’d only be delaying the inevitable.” Natalya thought aloud, glancing at Erebus to see if he’d contribute.
“But it should delay it, I just watched a master healer pass out channelling a panacea and it didn’t even slow.” Her former protégé noted.
“I know, but it doesn’t match anything I know about magical contagions, if it did that crowd would be dropping like flies.”
“The other big question; why children? While even magical illnesses work best on the young, old and sick not one of these people are older than Alec.”
“It was a good call not to bring him in then.” Natalya replied, and that was a question with edges so sharp you could cut a limb off and it would take a minute to notice.
Erebus tried to laugh it off, “I only pretend to know everything.” His friend’s gaze didn’t soften in the slightest. “Seriously Nat, I had no idea about this, of the many possible scenarios in my head ‘child killing blood magic’ was not one of them.”
“So who’s your suspect?” She asked, letting it go.
“Well I’d say Evan, healers are almost as renowned for dabbling in blood magic as necromancers, but he damn near killed himself trying to stop it and no matter how good he might be at hiding it you would notice if he’s in the same room as you. John seems like a belligerent git, but well meaning, and the rookie is… well a rookie, I’ve got nothing.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence.” Natalya replied dryly, “We could always… fight? Get some blood on the floor.”
“Too obvious.” Erebus laughed, “But I like the idea. If we could find wherever the samples are being kept we could swap them out.”
It was at this point Holly finally had to intervene, “Why would you fighting each other help?”
“To give our mysterious blood mage, who is also apparently a chronomancer, a blood sample so they can target one of us.” Natalya said as if it were obvious.
“Wouldn’t that be… bad?” Holly observed, suspecting she was missing something obvious.
“For most mages sure,” Erebus explained, “Blood magic is a type of thaumaturgy… the magic of links I suppose you could call it, you take an object that relates to what you target and use it to make a link from you to them, it’s what message stones are based on for example, you’re linking one identical object to another one. The stronger the link between the objects the easier the spell is to cast at a distance.”
“So why would you want them to be able to target you?” The dryad demanded.
“Because if they’re linked to you, you’re also linked to them.” Natalya added before Erebus could get another word in, “Once you start targeting powerful mages then thaumaturgy of any kind is a terrible idea. They’ll just pull the link open and send it back to whatever’s causing the link. You’d think that’s safe, the object taking the hit for the mage, but when the spell is a stream of fire hot enough to slag a building… you’re getting hit regardless.”
“Thaumaturgy is the realm of small time assassins and find-mages.” Erebus added, before adding helpfully, “Literally mages who are paid to find things. I hired one to help find the Tear of the Sun using Magus-Artificer Ente’s own blueprints for it. It’s surprisingly lucrative.”
“So by letting them get your blood you’d be getting them to give away their location.” Holly concluded.
“Oh no, I’d just use it to fill the building they’re in with enough fire you’d think a volcano had just erupted.” Erebus said stonily, eyes on the desiccated corpses, the cold rage in his eyes slowly dimming to curiosity. “…that’s odd.”
Natalya turned to match his gaze, “What’s o- that is odd.” The necromancer walked over to the bodies which, now Holly paid attention, were starting to actually crumble to dust in front of her.
“The link’s still active.” Erebus noted, stating the obvious quite possibly for Holly’s benefit.
“Yes but what’s it doing?” Natalya asked, hesitantly reaching for a crumbling corpse only for Erebus to grab her wrist.
“Careful.” He said slowly, ignoring his friend’s death glare, “That looks entropic in nature, you don’t want to get caught up in it.”
“We might be able to trace the link.” Natalya hissed.
“You also might lose the hand.” Erebus said dryly, “Whatever this is it was subtle enough two very skilled healers didn’t notice it right under their noses. Risking your life is one thing, risking it on a long shot is another.”
“I can live with one hand.” The older necromancer snapped moving past waspish to outright hornetish, pulling her wrist free. “Just be ready to cut it off if this goes wrong.”
“Okay.” Erebus agreed, the blade concealed in his travel staff appearing with a click, close to a foot of wickedly serrated steel turning it into a spear. If it did go wrong then it wouldn’t be a very clean cut.
If Natalya was put off by the sight of what was essentially a saw on the end of a stick she didn’t show it, placing her hand on the collapsing ribcage as she cast her mind out, seeking whatever link the thaumaturge was using to continue this attack.
She found nothing, which was impossible. Now she was looking for it she should have been able to sense the link even if she couldn’t track it, but there was nothing, it was like a tunnel that had no ending and no entrance. Nat could feel something, the beginning of the thaumic bond but it went absolutely nowhere, less a link and more the tip of a loose thread.
What she did manage was to find out what was being done.
“Vitae.” She gasped out as she pulled her hand away, the fingers ever so slightly withered, though that was fixed almost reflexively, “They’re draining vitae.”
That, Erebus concluded, was a problem. Vitae, the very energy of life itself, was probably the most common energy used for spellcasting after mana, it was one of the most potent and also one of the most frowned upon given the way it allowed an out of control mage to turn other people into fuel for their spells. Short of smelting souls there wasn’t much worse out there in terms of fuel.
Erebus had had cause to dabble in both in desperate times, though the vitae he burned had mostly been his own. A mage of his calibre had a lot of life to burn, or rather he had. The end of the line was a lot closer now where he’d drawn from that well once too often… more than once if he were being honest with himself.
So few mages were prepared to put their life into their spells that it had been an ace he’d been able to play time and time again. Now he’d have to have a dire hand indeed to use that card.
“Well that kills the illusionist theory, too hard to fake that. Why children though?” Erebus asked softly. It was a good question, though the necromancer wasn’t discussing the moral component, just the mechanics of it, children were objectively one of the worst possible choices for draining vitae. Although vitae draining simulated aging in a grown adult, in a child they just withered away, having far, far less lifeforce to give, short of draining someone on their deathbed they were the dumbest target imaginable.
“Don’t look at me. Some demons go in for the whole child sacrifice schtick but they don’t get anything out of it, it’s just for fear.” Nat offered, “Though a decent number can devour souls, so that could be something.”
“Lana’d have noticed a demonic heavyweight hovering around.” Erebus concluded with a shake of his head, “Hmm… soul-eaters… well it’s not a wraith, we’re still alive. Terrain’s all wrong for a ghast…”
“Pretty sure we’re dealing with a mage.” His colleague said, “The skillset to pull all this crap off is too varied to be anything else.”
“One of ours gone rogue do you think?” Erebus asked her, expression grave. ‘Ours’ in this case wasn’t necromancers but Second Response. It was always a fear, Second Response mages… weren’t right in the head, and Erebus very much included himself in that for all he’d gone independent.
First Response was made up of hardened veterans, one and all, skilled in several magics and very regimented in both skillset and methodology.
Second Response was what happened when you took that same mage and, using examples solely from Erebus’ own career, had them face down a Wild Hunt using nothing but brinksmanship, get into mind-to-mind combat with a demon lord and get their soul torn from their body only to possess the person attacking them long enough to get them to impale themselves on their own ritual knife.
Each and every one of them was a handcrafted masterpiece of esoteric knowledge, bizarre skills that had been developed because it was that or die and an approach to problems that involved a lot more going through than around.
The problem with that mindset was that it tended to be obsessive. Noone threw themselves into that kind of danger again and again without a purpose, a good half were (fortunately) adrenaline junkies and thrillseekers. They tended to be the ones that died first. It was the other half of Second Response that was the problem.
The ones that had a purpose. Sometimes it was as simple as wanting to help others, others it was about getting funding for some project or another – Second Response paid well and there was almost nowhere else it was possible to run into so many experts in other disciplines – or an oath followed, sometimes it was much as with Alice, a deathseeker doomed to disappointment.
Whatever the reason, it was all too easy to go rogue, maybe the Council of Mages wouldn’t let you begin human trials on a new healing method, perhaps someone had noticed the mage toiling in obscurity and offered them enough money to fund their project; in exchange for a small favour of course. Sometimes a person’s moral code and Second Response’s code of conduct just diverged fatally.
It didn’t matter what the reason was, what it meant was that a mage who could probably level a city if they really put their mind to it was roaming free with nothing to chain them down but their own conscience.
Erebus resisted a shudder, he’d rather have fought another Sidhe Lord, at least they were predictable. “It’s possible.” He conceded, “But even in our circles chronomancy’s a well-guarded secret. I know enough I could probably do it if you gave me a month to set up a ritual site, but I still haven’t a clue how they’re powering it.”
“Well they’re draining vitae and smelting souls…?”
“Problem is they’re also recreating those same people at the start of the loop. At best all that does is preserve energy so it isn’t lost.”
“Do you think that’s what is happening?” Natalya asked as she collapsed into a chair. The dust of the victims was already gone.
“Not enough information. For now we need to make sure one of us is with one of the town mages at all times, as innocent as they all seem… we don’t really have any other suspects. And we’ve probably only got until nightfall until the loop resets.”
“What should I tell Alec?” Holly asked, the dryad looking more than a little grey at having watched a bunch of corpses decay before her eyes. It probably hadn’t helped that so many had been around the age of her host.
“Just tell him to stay put and to report anything weird.” Erebus told her.
“Done, is there anything else I can do?” She offered.
The necromancer rubbed at his eyes, trying to massage away a headache, “Only one thing any of us can do right now. Wait and hope our foe makes an error.”