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Chapter 40

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Lyn held Cataclysm as the timer above ticked down. When it reached the Elenthian symbol for zero…the oceans roiled and bubbled. A horde of monstrosities similar to the first wave approached – less in total, but they were larger. This is going to suck, she thought, knowing that these creatures’ lack of mana-charged weaponry could do no real damage to her. Thank God for that Ironhide body enhancement. Not only that, but her armor was the toughest type of adamantine in existence, acting as Ironhide all on its own.

She wasn’t concerned about injury as the hordes charged over the corpses of the fallen, crossing the gap made of lava and ignoring as their legs were seared off from their headlong charge into her earlier explosion. There was no fear of injury, no fear of death. And yet Lyn dreaded what she had to do now. Monotonous labor. Not a fight, just a job. Over and over again.

The first group arrived, and she ducked under one of their claws, going inside of its reach and carving it in half. Immediately she was beset by three more and took blows to her body that knocked her to the ground. She rolled with the impact and stood up, carving in a horizontal slash with her momentum and slicing three more that had approached from the rear in half. “Come on you fuckers!” she yelled as the horde arrived in full.

Every direction she looked, there was flesh. Every direction, weaponry swinging at her. She was battered back and forth repeatedly, and when she felt dizzy from becoming concussed, she would incant the short regeneration internal spell so that she would not pass out.

There was one threat she had not thought of, and that occurred when one of the large, undead brutes gripped her arm, and another, her leg. Fuck! she thought, as she could feel her muscles pulling against the pressure. And that is when fear began to rise in her. Fear that she could die here. No amount of regeneration would be able to keep her from being torn to bits. If there’s another round after this, I’m fucked. But she had no choice. "Britha pân bo nin!” she screamed out as her amulet drained entirely, and her mana core was exhausted, tapped dry.

The mana surged through her channels and the entire world erupted in a storm of lava. Her internal spells ceased, and her sight dimmed as the entire world was covered in lava. Her spell covering the twins was still there – since the earth stayed put. But the spell providing them with air was not active anymore. The whole world was awash in dark crimson and bright, neon-blue flames as the world ceased to exist for a brief instant. All was fire and destruction.

The walls of the room returned, and the environment returned to normal. Lyn collapsed to her knees as the world began to dim around her. And that’s when it hit her, right before unconsciousness took her.

The external shadow spell that was keeping Vael from bleeding out had ceased as well.

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Cecily laughed at the banquet table. She had invited the several vassal state rulers from all around Valagonia to her palace. Only three had arrived. Sidalon, an island duchy off of the coast to the South, Ishtok, another duchy which controlled a river separating Trisk’s and Valagonia’s territories to the North, and Brol, her Eastern-most duchy.

The rest had sent condolences and excuses. She put on a gentle demeanor as she continued to tend to her current guests. As the fourth course of the meal concluded, she turned to Duchess Yeeza, the representative for Ishtok. “The crown is always thankful for our allies in your lands that prevent Trisk from coming across The Rill,” she said with as much honey in her tone as she could muster. The Rill was the river separating Trisk and Valagonia.

The dark-skinned woman smiled and bowed gently, her sapphire earrings jiggling back and forth like melodious wind chimes. “You honor us, your grace.”

“As tensions grow, I need to ensure that your territories keep our foes away from our backs.”

“My lady, you can always count on that. The Ishtok duchy has already taken the initiative and have instilled greater control and checks on the two main bridges crossing the waters. More levies are being prepared as well in case you need further troops. They are willing and eager to fight for Humanity.”

Cecily nodded politely and gestured to a guard, who brought over a scroll, and handed it to her. “I thank you for your service, and hereby name you as Warden of the East.” She looked at the woman, who absolutely beamed with delight. “And you, my loyal Fredrick,” she said addressing the ruler of Brol, “I would ask to assist in this effort.” Cecily grinned as the two rulers looked at each other fondly. She had been utilizing mind manipulating spells since they arrived two days prior; and thankfully, they didn’t need much nudging. Manipulating emotions such as love and affection is so much easier when there’s already a physical attraction.

Fredrick, Duke of Brol, stood up and bowed deeply, “I would be honored to assist my dear Yeeza in ruling the East.” He looked to the woman and bowed deeply once more, “If you would have me, that is.”

The two shared a fond moment, and Cecily focused her attention to the short man on the opposite side of the table. Duke David of Sidalon. My buffer for an invasion from the coast. Sidalon was home to some of the best shipwrights within her kingdom’s borders. They had churned out several new, top-of-the-line vessels that would be invaluable in the inevitable wars that Cecily planned to wage against Khrelardia and Trisk. But this man had shown a remarkable level of stubbornness and mental resistance.

David harrumphed, the bald man scoffing at the other rulers opposite him. “These two may control the East on your behalf, Queen- forgive me, Princess Cecily.” She felt her eyebrow twitch at the insult. “But I do not see the Dukes or Duchesses of Bisdkon, Skrell, Logor, Komorra, or Rist. And that makes me ponder if you truly have control of your kingdom. Yes, you purged the non-Humans, and for that I am grateful…but a ruler is only as powerful as her people…and their lack of attendance is a vote of no confidence.”

Cecily knew the man spoke truth. I have to crush and replace those nobles, she thought. Which meant more civil war. Something she could afford, as she had troops aplenty. But it would leave her in a position where she would not be able to go to war against James. In that aspect, however, she was also lucky. If she kept to her side of the Azure Divide, he would not be the aggressor. She nodded and addressed Duke David, “You are correct. I will be dealing with them soon.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

A servant ran up to her side and whispered in her ear, “The Berserker Hero has been spotted entering the city, your grace. What are your orders?”

Cecily grinned. Perfect. I can use him to deal with these upstart nobles. She whispered back, “Bring him to my personal chambers.”

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Gael felt the air growing thin as the earth vanished. He took a deep breath as the air rushed in around him. Glancing sideways, he saw Lyn prone and unconscious, her chest slowly rising and falling. He felt warmth on his hand, and looked down.

Vael was bleeding again. Damn! He thought. How do I fix this? He could only use internal spells and water external spells. Right. Remember what Lyn showed you, he thought as he thought back to when she showed him how to cleanse poison from a wound. But that won’t help me! His mind raced and he felt panic beginning to overtake him as Vael continued to bleed out.

Blood…That’s it! He didn’t know much about Elenthir as a language, only the bit that Lyn had taught him. But he could maybe use a standard verse and…wing it? Try something! He held his hand over her pulsing wound. "En ethiel an le / thalion min / leithio nin garan / a sedho nin dîn / tog nin agar / a anno han hain." He cut his hand as he chanted the verse. A standard healing verse that most warriors learned – even if they weren’t skilled healers, they could pass on the verse to others. But he had used the word for ‘blood’ and ‘take’, hoping that whatever forces worked to create spells beyond his sight would understand what he desired to accomplish.

He saw with a mix of wonder and horror as blood flowed from his wound and into Vael’s cut artery. It wouldn’t last forever, but he could give her his blood. Maybe long enough for Lyn to recover. “Lyn!” he shouted. She didn’t stir. “Get the fuck up!” he cried out, feeling the tears coming on as he began to get dizzy. He halfheartedly tossed his spear with his lingering strength, and it clattered against Lyn’s back.

She sat up and glanced back at him. “Damnit! You’re not dying on me!” She crawled over and growled out the same spell she had used before. The shadows swirled around both Gael and Vael’s wounds, binding them tightly. She leaned back on her hands and let out a deep exhale. “That was close. How’d you figure out a transfusion spell?”

“Trans-what?” Gael asked as the world slowly stabilized around him.

“You gave her your blood. Did you know that you could?” Lyn asked.

Gael shook his head, “No. I didn’t know that I could even manipulate blood.”

“It’s a sub-type of water. It goes water, and then underneath that is another sub-type for blood. Since you have such a strong connection to water spells…you can access any sub-type under that umbrella.” She laid back on the ground and laughed. “Give me a bit to recover some mana, and I’ll walk you through a clotting spell.”

“What’s an umbrella?”

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Misty emerged from her solitude after several days. She went to the chambers allocated to Thomas, and to her surprise, found not only him there, but him laughing. He was sitting with Stellas, and the Vharthon woman’s tail swished back and forth, signaling her own delight. Thomas looked up at her and waved, “Finally decided to join the real world?”

Misty stood still in the doorway, “I thought I told you to get out?”

Thomas nodded, “We did. Out of your office.”

She looked at Stellas, who did not avert her gaze, but instead met her sight. That was odd, as the fox-folk woman was very averse to making eye contact. “Stellas? Don’t you have studies to attend? A fourth-year should be in class.”

Stellas looked over at Thomas and stood up, bowing to Misty. “I appreciate your tutelage, but I will be leaving the school.”

Misty felt anger flood through her. No student had ever left her school. They all stayed. Her first graduating class would be done that winter, and she hoped it would be the first of many. She shot a glare at Thomas and saw the sheaves of parchment filled with Elenthir. So that’s what this is about. She smirked at Thomas, “You know she’s not into you, right? Just your brains.” She turned back to Stellas, “And let me guess, you’re going to travel with Thomas and benefit from one-on-one Elenthir tutoring?”

Stellas nodded resolutely, “Yes, Professor Misery. He has expressed a desire to travel south to see the Healer hero, Trisha. It is not safe for someone with such a weak mana core to travel, and I offered to go with him in exchange for his tutoring.”

Misty frowned. Stellas was one of the promising students. One of the few Vharthon students despite her school being in the fox-folk’s kingdom. They just didn’t have a knack for written Elenthir, sadly. Misty pinched the bridge of her nose, “You…you ungrateful.” She looked at Thomas. “Fine. Take her with you.” She turned on her heel and left. She had other business to attend to.

Her time in her closet safe space gave her enough room to process the proclamation from days ago. She ascended the main tower from her office and quarters. One of the first pieces of the enormous construction was this central tower, and at the top, she had inscribed amplification verses for any spell type she could imagine. I have to know. She reached the roof and placed her hand on the pillar that would allow for near-limitless range. And here’s the sucky part. Divination spells were always nauseating. The feeling of being pulled out of one’s own body and just having their consciousness ripped from its housing was jolting. She took a deep breath, "Leithio nin cen trî i ambar, a rada i brithon."

Her vision left her body and raced across Ghomar. Past the hundreds of miles to the Valley of the Volcano, over Shiverburn Summit, and towards the person the spell was meant to find. She saw the city being built, and her gaze dashed down tunnels that were being fitted with pipes. Off a side corridor, her vision slammed into a gate. The Destroyer…is in a dungeon? She could get around this. "Leithio nin ind rithia i fen / en garan bo nin." Her vision passed through the purple membrane, and she felt the icky almost jelly-like substance on her own skin back at her body.

Three chambers and corridors were passed through, and her vision settled in a spot above three Duskari. One who was dressed in the armor of the Destroyer’s humanoid form, minus the helmet. A bright-blue eyed Duskari with stark, white hair, was talking about umbrellas. A male Duskari was next to her, intrigued by the conversation at hand. And a female Duskari was on the ground, her body covered with blood but bound by shadowy bands. No healing? They’re taking a risk without a healer along with them. She had to admit, though…that shadow spell was clever. Not many mages could do that.

But the female in the Destroyer’s armor…something about the way she spoke. The cadence. The speech patterns. The emphasis on the hard g’s of her words…it was just like Lyn. Not only that, but she used the word for ‘coagulate’ in Elenthir…which wasn’t a word that originally existed in that language. She had to have invented the word using their alphabet. Thanks to her Mage core, Misty knew the language inside and out, and even unfamiliar words were instantly translated in her mind.

Misty dismissed the spell as her vision snapped back inside her body. She reeled and slumped down on the tower-top; the divination had a jarring, nauseating effect on the user the further they traveled, and she rolled over, dry heaving as the feeling overtook her. After taking several deep, shaky breaths, she collected herself.

Either Duskari know Elenthir way better than we thought…or that really is Lyn.