Chapter 44:

Voggo turned out easier to convince to allow her access to the village’s records than she had expected, but he was also more skeptical than she hoped for.

Wards were a complex and semi-permanent form of ritual, which anchored to a boundary and enforced an effect by expending mana.

Unless the effect was very weak, the natural mana in the air would not be enough to sustain them. Indeed, according to what she had found, doing so was a good way of turning a territory into a wasteland.

Mana wasn’t something ordinary people could use or even perceive unless it was in large concentrations. However, it still was a necessary part of life, and to remove it entirely would mean the death of an ecosystem.

The ancestors were very clear about that. Never anchor a ward to the ambient unless it was for something extremely simple, like an alert message that would go out when something passed through it.

At first, she had been excited about that, since even such a system would allow them much greater security. Still, it was apparently almost impossible for Journeymen to get them to have the proper sensitivity. This meant the caster’d either get alerted at every bird’s passing or only if a stampeding Therium was charging through.

It was something to be revisited when her grasp on magic was much greater, and such subtleties could be dealt with more easily.

For the moment, her interest was more toward elemental wards. Protections based on the caster’s specific mana type always came out better than generic ones. The need to meditate upon one’s fractals and find a particular pattern that worked for a stable ward was apparently just as complicated a process as crafting a new spell, which dampened her enthusiasm somewhat, but Dorea reminded herself of what she had witnessed just two days before.

Samos was a powerful mage, that was for sure, but the magic he brought to bear in defense of his people was simply beyond him.

She wanted that.

Dorea wanted to be able to sweep her enemies away like that, and while she was sure one day she’d get there with just her own efforts, doing so now would require a different approach.

Thus, wards.

Her main problem always circled back to sustainability.

She could probably cobble something together in terms of matrixes and whatnot, but it wouldn’t work if there was always a need for someone to supply it with mana to keep it running.

Well, at least I can probably make it multi-elemental based so everyone can contribute. That would make it easier.

It rankled her that their allies had what was evidently a powerful source at their disposal that they used to maintain their own wards, and Whitecliff didn’t.

Unfortunately, as far as she could tell, most of their ancestral resources had been either lost to the earthquake that gave her grandmother her powers or abandoned after they left their original village in the mountains.

That meant they would have to make do with what they could bring to the table.

Already, the presence of a wall would help. In her reading, she had found that the more an object was related to the task its ward was supposed to do, the better it would serve as an anchor.

That meant better efficiency, greater effects, and all-around improvements.

And you can’t get much better than a wall that has protected Whitecliff for forty years as an anchor for a ward to protect the village.

Still, she wouldn’t cast it immediately. Not only did she want to ensure that the matrix she’d chosen would work in the intended manner, but since this was her first foray into more advanced magic, she had been sternly told not to begin her experiments by herself.

Now, Dorea was an adventurous teenager, who liked to think of herself as capable of facing all of life’s problems without help, as demonstrated by her forays into the wilderness to hunt powerful beasts, but she wasn’t stupid.

She knew very well that trying her hand at setting up a ritual without supervision, at least the first time, could have terrible consequences.

Voggo had explained, at the beginning of his lessons, the various types of magic that existed but had then concentrated mainly on Manipulation and Spells.

Those were the bread and butter of every mage. They were what everyone used in their daily life and what they held in reserve in case of battle.

Rituals, on the other hand, were finicky and could have unpredictable results. If a spell went wrong, and it was quite the rare occurrence, it would simply fizzle out or, in the most extreme cases, explode.

While that might sound terrible, the side effects of botched rituals could go from turning oneself inside out to opening a gate for demonic creatures to pass through.

That last one was apparently real, since there were three different records of such things happening. They usually occurred when someone tried to find a way to shorten travel times by transporting either themselves or goods to another place instantaneously.

Voggo’s notes on the incident suggested that such magics would require incredibly powerful gifts to control them and a level of understanding of the weave of mana that was simply inconceivable, even for a Master.

The Shaman believed such miracles were possible only when one ascended to Archmage, but since such a rank was little more than speculation and legend, it was functionally impossible to achieve.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

But I don’t want to do anything like that. I just want a barrier to protect us from attacks. And maybe something to tell if we are about to be attacked in the first place. Nothing too complicated.

Since she had been ordered not to start on the practical side yet, and Voggo would have his hands busy for a couple of days still, what with having to tend to the injured she had rescued and replenishing the village’s stock of poultices after he sent a wagon of it to the Forest tribe, Dorea kept to the theory.

She’d have her moment to muck about in the field, she was sure, but for now, she was content with learning more about the mistakes of the past.

It also became a good way of learning what was possible at higher levels of power.

Whitecliff’s previous generation of gifted had also included Master level mages, one of whom was her grandmother.

That meant they had much more leeway in their ability to experiment with Rituals, even though most were focused on the earth.

Some attempted to create new, powerful weapons with the help of the Metal mages they had, but most of those projects had been abandoned simply because the effort put into them wasn’t worth the payoff.

The axe they used for executions to this day was apparently one of the few things to come out of those projects. While the village had gotten a lot of mileage out of it, the fact that it required three Journeyman metal mages to work in concert for a whole week alerted her to the fact that not only could rituals go catastrophically wrong, but could also simply be a terribly inefficient way to go about things.

Which likely explains why there is no warding around the village. If the mages could sense things much better than what such a protection could, without having to feed it constantly, there would be no reason to build it.

Thus, she had to find a way to make it more efficient than simple patrols, which was a tall order.

That, or she could try for a more niche need.

It was unlikely that she could set up a ward to work so well that it could remove the need for patrols, and if people were already there to look for intruders or enemies, the need to keep such a ward up would lessen dramatically, which meant that she needed to build something that did a job patrols didn’t.

That all built upon the premise that she’d actually be able to do it, which Dorea wasn’t sure of.

Still, she’d try. It was unlikely that the Mondeans would stop with their attempts at breaking their resolve, but since they were so busy with the war in the north, there would be some time to prepare before the next attack.

Or that had been Voggo’s conclusion, at the very least.

“They have spent too many resources trying to take us to heel. Men do not do that and then abandon the cause. The moment they have enough people to spare, we’ll see them again.” had been his words, and however much she might not have liked them, Dorea trusted the old man’s wisdom.

Thus, the need to prepare. She would still hunt in the forest when possible, as killing enhanced beasts was the best method to grow her personal power, but something inside told her that they’d need more than what she could bring to bear.

Even just a barrier that could be powered by non-combatant mages during a siege would be enough.

Actually, that’s not a bad idea at all. They can’t get close enough without our notice because of the patrols. When they do, we have shown ourselves capable of dealing with it, as long as they don’t bring to bear their real strength. But giving ourselves another defensive option, one that would give me and others the time to attack properly, is a decent thought.

Of course, she’d need to figure out a way to implement the matrixes used to mix earth and metal mana in a different pattern to use lightning, wind, and water.

That would be the bulk of the work, alongside putting together a barrier type for all those elements.

Converting them into one another is out. It was possible for the previous generation because they were both more skilled than I, and their mana types were much more compatible. There is no way I’m turning lightning into water, unfortunately.

But maybe she could empower a barrier with a separate element.

She’d need to think deeply about this, and it likely wouldn’t be a short effort to bring it into reality, but Dorea was convinced this was the correct path to take.

Also, she had already started working on a type of air barrier, so using that as a base should make her life a bit easier.

With a sigh, Dorea gave up for the day.

She had been cloistered in Voggo’s library for the whole morning, and speculating further about things she couldn’t actually be sure she’d be able to do was not a good way of spending her time.

Instead, she decided to go check on her friends. Since Jonah and Beth had started their relationship, she felt that something like a rift had opened between them, even though nothing should have changed.

I just want things to go back to how they were, dammit. How is that so much to ask for?

She left the Shaman’s house, distractedly waving goodbye to her mother, who was busy mashing herbs into a paste, by the powerful smell coming from the room she was in.

Turning her senses towards the outside to their fullest extent, she went looking for them.

Unfortunately, it turned out that Jonah was out on a mission, as the scouts wanted to ensure no new incursion from the north was coming.

His father, Jon, relayed this to her gruffly, but by how he kept going about it, he was actually very proud of his son.

The two had a complicated relationship, as the boy had always been reluctant to express himself in as masculine a way as his dad, making it difficult for them to understand each other.

Still, there was love there, and seeing the baker talk about his son’s exploits with a shine in his eye felt good. Jonah had been working hard in the last few months, and it was right for it to be recognized.

She left the building without a precise destination, unsure what to do now that her plans had been derailed.

Then, she felt her other friend come into her range, possibly having come to look for Jonah just like her and hurried her way.

“Beth! Here!” she waved from a distance.

The brunette turned her way, her expression obscured by her hair, which hung like a curtain.

She stopped once she got close enough to be heard without shouting, surprising Dorea, who was expecting one of her usual bear hugs.

“Can we talk?”

The blonde blinked. “Sure, what do you want to talk about?”

Beth shook her head, gesturing towards the open fields she had just come from. “Let’s move away from here.” And turned away, already walking.

Still confused by the abruptness, Dorea followed, albeit hesitantly.

What’s going on? She’s never like this.

They strolled past the verdant fields, which had finally fully recovered from the passing of the Nature’s Wrath. The influx of refugees surprisingly had served as a boon to Whitecliff’s economy, having plugged the labor gaps created by the storm.

In the past, such things would have meant many months of hard work and poorer harvests, but thanks to magic and manpower, they had matched up with the scheduled production and were in the process of expanding the fields further.

That would allow them to reap much more than they used to, which they’d need, with all the new mouths to feed.

They passed by several farmers, busy prepping the ground for the second round of planting already.

It felt weird to Dorea, seeing so many new faces she barely recognized inside the village, but these people had dedicated their whole to becoming part of Whitecliff, and so far, had managed to do so with minimal fuss.

She knew that most of that success lay at Voggo’s and Noele’s feet, as their attentive presence and control smoothed out any rising issue.

She turned to share her thoughts with her friend, only to find her accelerating away.

Now starting to get annoyed, Dorea matched her pace for the next several minutes until they reached an empty field where no one seemed to be working.

“Can you tell me why you brought me all the way over here now?” she asked, her tone waspish.

Beth finally turned to face her fully, and she got a good look at her.

She looked angry. Her teeth were gritted, her brow scrunched, and her eyes held a fire that spoke of a long-standing grievance coming to light.

“You” she began, pointing her index finger at her, “need to leave Jonah alone.”

Her words were followed by a moment of stunned silence, where Dorea attempted to understand what had just happened. “What? What are you talking about?”

That seemed to make Beth even angrier. “You always push him to be more like you. Always congratulate him on his ‘tough’ missions”.

Her tone was mocking as she got closer and closer, pretending to swoon. “Oh Jonah, that was so cool. You were so manly, going to risk your life in the mountains, where the barbarians would have torn you into pieces”.

Dorea’s face became more inscrutable as the girl went on with her performance, but rage was boiling inside.

“You think I don’t know what you are doing? Always wanting to bring him on your harebrained adventures? You need to let him be.” she panted, finally done.

“Is it over? Can I speak now?” Dorea asked stonily.

Without waiting for a response, she kept going “Not only have I never sought to bring Jonah on one of my ‘harebrained adventures’, as you call them, but I’ve never encouraged him to do anything of the sort. I complimented him when he returned from dangerous missions, yes, but I had no hand in sending him there, and you know perfectly well that he could have simply said no if he didn’t want to go.”

She tried to keep her tone cold, knowing that if she let out what she was really feeling inside, she risked doing something she’d regret.

“I have never sought to take him away from you. And I know that this is what all this scene is about. You got together without telling me anything, but I’ve not been anything but supportive of you two. If you can’t appreciate that, you are a fucking idiot.”

Beth's face had steadily gotten redder as she spoke, and her eyes were tearing up. “You dumb cow. I know you’ve always known he had a crush on you. The moment he moves on with another, you just have to do your best to destroy everything, huh?”

It was evident to Dorea that the other girl would never believe whatever she said. If she stayed any longer, she feared that the roaring of her blood might drown out the voice in the back of her head, telling her not to do anything stupid.

Frigidly, she turned her back to her once friend, not before one last parting shot. “It’s not me you are afraid of. It’s him leaving you once he realizes how much you have been forcing yourself on him. Think about that.”

So saying, she activated Air Boost and sped away, leaving behind a purposeful gust of wind that sent the other girl on her ass.

She only allowed herself that small revenge, not wanting to stay around for longer in case her patience finally snapped.

Dorea quickly moved through the fields, careful to avoid anyone who might have been working.

And if doing so, no one saw the tears that spilled from her eyes, well, it was no one’s business but hers.