Morgan Mackenzie rubbed the back of her neck, looking at her structurally perfect, physically flawless spheres, slightly embarrassed that she had overlooked something so fundamental about the magical component. Privately, she admitted that she was more than slightly embarrassed, but she refused to show the remainder. The fact that it was completely understandable for her to have gaps in her magical knowledge did little to salve the emotion -- after all, she had already known her enchantments were different from Moghren’s. Increasing the volume of space within a jar was different from weaving that same extra space into a flexible bag, but that small issue had never occurred to her when working with Dana on the skyship’s design. Now she wasn’t sure whether or not to recycle the giant polygonal structures they had already made, or begin anew.
Dana spoke as if reading her thoughts. “Trying to decide whether or not to start over with new material?”
“Yeah, and letting my ego recover,” said Morgan, rubbing the side of her mouth with a finger, her other hand on a tattooed hip. “I knew I was missing something because my levelling has slowed down, but this is particularly embarrassing because Moghren used a bag and enchanted thread to show me spatial magic the first time.”
“Sorcerers have a more difficult time with it, that’s all,” remarked Terisa as she left the woodline, the slender shape of Althenea’s rifle form hanging over her shoulder with a leather strap. The Ma’akan druid, Chnarl, followed behind her.
“No two sorcerers are the same,” added the druid. “Most can use the common spells and cantrips that every mage knows, but their advantages come from direct control of the mana itself. Though, not being able to use the normal tools that a master or teacher would have available puts you at an even greater disadvantage…”
“What about druid magic?” the sorceress asked, tilting her head. “I can sense the life mana swirling around you, and the life and death magics around Biggles, but when I reach for them myself it’s like dipping my hand into slippery water.”
“Pfft,” snorted Dana. “Excellent analogy!”
“It’s the best way I can describe it,” Morgan said, shrugging helplessly. “I can barely touch that kind of magic!”
Chnarl laughed from deep in his belly, leaning on his staff. “Girl, if everyone could use every kind of magic it would be a dull and boring world. Even if you could harness the living magics, Druidry is more about convincing the spirits to help you than it is any sort of structured casting.” He gathered himself after his jovial outburst, then continued. “Won’t see any druids at the schools for mages either. A few learn under a master as an apprentice, but mostly? We operate by feeling and faith. If you didn’t live by faith in your old world, just coming here won’t help you learn.”
Morgan nodded, lapsing into silence as she considered Chnarl’s words.
Dana broke the silence a few moments later. “If you and your pops are heading out tomorrow, then we are in a bind,” she offered tentatively. “The airbags are almost done, but a redesign on the fly…”
“Nothing gains levels like being under pressure!” Chnarl snarled with a predatory grin.
“My leveling has slowed, though,” Morgan protested. “I got to forty-four when...Chadwick put the collar on me, and I…” She swallowed, a pained grimace flickering across her face. “...Before that, though, I hadn’t gained a level in a long time.”
“Everyone’s levels slow at some point,” said Terisa. “Most in the thirties, and everyone slows down in the forties. Most people simply know their class and have found their place in life by then. It’s not about killing monsters or men, it’s about how much of a challenge it was, how much risk…”
The sorceress looked up at the polygonal spheres. “That...makes a lot of sense, actually, but how do people who don’t fight get their levels? I’ve gotten a few from learning new spells, but fighting has been way faster...”
Dana grinned, raising her hand. “I hadn’t killed anything here in this world until I came to the Wildlands. Every level before that came from doing what I do best, building golems and parts for my suit. The more challenging my projects are, the more I get out of it.”
“The best way to enchant the bags will be to sew it right into the leaves,” the druid advised, “but spatial magic isn’t alive like the living mana of the witchwood leaves. It is not a thing that I can do, nor Mister Bigglesworth here. But, if you can find a way past your limitations and help us, it may be that that is the kind of challenge that would help you.”
“When Moghren showed me that first enchantment on a leather pouch, she used a magical thread,” the sorceress pointed out. “But I can’t use a needle; if I so much as try, my fingers just won’t work--”
Chnarl tossed a pebble at her, and she caught it mid-flight with [Terrakinesis]. “Who said a needle has to be metal?”
Morgan stared intently at the pebble floating serenely above her palm. Then she smiled.
====================
Terisa Aras strode through the trees, leaving the sorceress to her work. She had little to add that would be helpful with the project, and trusted Chnarl and Biggles to help Morgan with what was needed. The three had set about working on the so-called “lift bags” with a renewed fervor, and the Huntress left them to their task. Now, she approached the cave where sat the Titan and the cubs of the Nightstride, Lily and Nyx.
The two cubs were currently stalking her husband, who pretended not to notice as they pounced in tandem. Foz had always had a way with the young, be they his own or others’, and even those of other species. She stifled a laugh as he dropped and rolled backwards, leaving the cubs to land on the grass looking like utterly confused kittens.
“Getting attached?” she asked as he lumbered to his feet. The Titan remained silent, wriggling vines to distract the big cats and giving them a moment to speak. “They’re almost old enough to be bonded by a Tamer.”
Foz nodded his approval with a grin. The half-ursaran had always been stingy with words, but Terisa had long found it endearing, even to this day. However, the cats were not why she had come. She turned to face the Titan, as he looked down at them.
“You and her are leaving soon,” she said.
His massive head inclined slightly, eyes burning with more intelligence than any beast ought possess. Even now that his origins were made clear, to have him look upon her so made her skin crawl.
“I owe her a debt,” said the Huntress. “And you as well, for saving my sister.” Althenea pulsed agreement from her place slung across Terisa’s back. “But my home is under attack. The guildmaster may have been lying, but we cannot risk that. My children live there.”
“You go.” It was not a question, and almost felt like an order. The screeching reverberation of the crystals protruding from his massive brow formed the words, and the sound made the cats hiss. They arched their backs, and their fur stood on end in agitation as Foz tried to calm them.
“How will we find you again?”
The titanic form looked north and east, the ground groaning as his bulk shifted before he spoke again.
“After duty. Will find you. Before sleep.”
“We will be going to war. There is no other answer for this kind of attack. I know she said she can’t not fight them, but--”
Her protests were interrupted by a shaking in the air, a deep resonance that buzzed in her ears as the wind picked up dust and autumn leaves. It took her several moments to realize the Titan’s chest was heaving in laughter.
“She will go. I follow. To war.”
The huntress froze. “All the legends say you cannot leave the Wildlands…” she said in muted shock.
The Titan merely continued to laugh, and when no answer was forthcoming, Terisa withdrew, rattled. Foz followed her, his expression suddenly grim.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“We had hoped to avoid another war,” he told her once they had put enough distance between themselves and the Titan. “Bold, to hit Expedition. That can’t be the only attack.”
“I know,” she agreed, sighing. “Even without us and the rest of the expedition group there, it would be futile to try with anything less than a full-scale invasion. Kosala is at risk, and if Swift Waters is compromised, they could even get agents to Stormbreak Isle. Any river settlements, as well.”
Her husband nodded, face drawn into a scowl that others who didn’t know him would have found intimidating. Terisa knew her husband, and also knew he was thinking. His anger was rare, and unmistakable. She thought his thinking face was one of his better features. They were approaching the field where the others were busy with the enchantments on the lift-bags before he finally spoke, his voice pitched low enough not to carry in the chilly winds.
“It will be a big war, then. The last one will seem as nothing.” He growled deep in his chest. “We have to warn the Tribes, if they don’t already know. You know how they like to use the Children of the First Beast.”
“Do you think the Tribes will march?” she questioned.
Foz considered, then shook his head. “There’s just no way to know until we get back.”
They fell into a companionable silence as they approached Dana and Biggles. The necromancer and engineer were watching as Morgan and the druid Chnarl crouched over a section of the broad sheet of the great leaves. The witchwood leaves had seemed to grow together into one huge layer. The stems of the leaves looked like pale veins on soft emerald cloth, and the material seemed to fuzz together where leaf met leaf. The sorceress was guiding several needles simultaneously with her eerie levitation skills, and Chnarl looked on in approval as a flash of magic caused the threads to glow in a pattern that pulsed out through the vein-like lines of the melded leaves. The silvery glow spread out like ripples from a stone, and runes that they had already sewn into the living fabric were left alight in its wake.
================
Morgan took hold of another needle with her [Terrakinesis] after Chnarl deftly slipped thread through the loop on the end. At first she had only used one at a time, but as she got the hang of tugging them along, one had become two, two had become three, and now four stone slivers danced below her fingers like puppet limbs on invisible strings. Dana had measured several times, and then marked the location for each rune to be stitched. The runes themselves were simple enough, and the thread made for an even easier conduit for the magical energies than her etchings in stone.
She felt that sculpting enchantments in stone that she had magically toughened would last much longer, but the witchwood leaves had their own regenerative properties that caused the tissues to regrow around the thread as she watched. It seemed that as long as the organic material had mana to draw on it would keep the runes in proper working order. Chnarl confirmed as much when she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “Witchwood has many properties, and things made from it can heal and repair themselves. No one has managed to grow the trees outside of the wildlands, not since the elves vanished after the first Deskren war.”
They finished a few more runes, stitching along the circles where Dana had drawn the markers. The mana hummed in Morgan’s sight, not yet active but waiting, a feeling she couldn’t quite put into words. The green fabric was gathered up as they moved across it, and as they neared the last rune’s position, Biggles helped Chnarl take up the slack in the material.
“The last seam is the most important for making a bag like this; we’re just making a big one,” said the Druid. “We’ll need a ring to fasten it to, and that’s where your stone magic can help.”
Morgan could definitely help with that. A single heartbeat later, and a ring of dirt almost ten paces across leapt from the ground. [Terrakinesis] made it a simple matter to compress it to stone, a contiguous band as thick as her wrist that shrank to half that size as its density increased and she reinforced it further. At the druid’s direction she turned the ring up on its side, Biggles and Dana helping pull the heavy fabric of the bag over to join it with the stone band.
Chnarl worked with his claws, stitching the last of the bag together. Still deflated, it rolled and billowed and bunched in the chilly wind. It did not stay deflated for long, however; when the last stitch joining it to the ring went into place the enchanted runes lit themselves with bright light. It flashed and glimmered from the opening of the ring, and Morgan felt them begin to pull on her mana. She had plenty to spare thanks to her tower, so she simply poured a steady flow of power into the enchantments.
The spatial runes began to push against each other, and she had to steady herself as the expanding lift-bag began to swell, pulling air in through the ring. As more of the runes aligned and the next enchantment began to draw on her reserves, the bag swelled bigger, faster, and the wind picked up with a howl. The legs of Dana’s suit separated in spider-like fashion, anchoring her in place as another arm folded smoothly from her back to grab Biggles by the back of his coat just before he was pulled inside. The Engineer grinned at Morgan, the noise far too loud for conversation. Even more welcome than the laughter that escaped her lips was the familiar golden tones in her head as similar light brushed down her body.
You have reached Level 45! Health and Status Partially Restored!
10 Distributable Stat points awarded!
10 Skill Points awarded!
2 Enhancement points awarded!
For stepping beyond the bounds of your assumptions and applying your magic in new ways with bold insight, you have grown in power!
Morgan resisted the urge to dance, if only barely. She held herself to just a fist pump and a giddy “Yes!”
The next gust of wind that came hit with the full force of winter as it tore through the valley, and despite her resistances Morgan was temporarily caught off guard. She shivered and wished she had a coat for one nostalgic moment before letting her fire heat the rest of her, but Dana seemed decidedly uncomfortable with so much metal against her skin.
“I’ll have to figure something out like you just did,” said the other woman. “You just lit up on infra-red while I’m freezing my tush off out here.”
“Frost resistance doesn’t seem to help with natural cold,” said Morgan. “But I just got two enhancement points!”
Terisa had approached as the wind from the expanding bag began to fade, and she stepped forward with Foz and grabbed the ring as the breeze shifted the suddenly huge balloon. “Do you guys want to do something with this or just let it drift away in the wind?”
“Oh! I’m sorry!” Morgan apologized, seizing the ring with [Terrakinesis] and holding it level once more as the bag bobbed and wobbled above it. “Dana, are we ready to attach the first one?”
“Yep,” said the engineer, her suit shifting back to wheels as she slalomed away. She led them down the hill to where the main structure of the skyship was under construction, keeping pace so they could hear. “We’ll space them out, four in total. This one is going right over the engine room.”
Dana’s suit went from wheels to legs and then to extra arms as she clambered up the side of the multi-story monstrosity taking shape. Morgan picked her way past several dwarven workers and a Panthren who nodded as he bowed out of their way, the ring and balloon drifting dozens of feet overhead as if pulled by an invisible string. She clambered up a ladder to the top deck, only to see that Dana had gone down two levels into a hollowed out central section of the ship. Standing on top of the upper deck and looking down, it was actually beginning to look like a ship, albeit a bulky and strange one. The engineer was currently scuttling over the central reactor that had once been the thorax of her crawler, and what limited steel that had been available had been reforged into crude but strong struts and braces to which the timbers of witchwood had been fastened as the vessel took shape around its future source of power.
Several steel clamps arranged in a circle awaited above the engine room, and Dana made some last minute adjustments before waving Morgan forward. “The witchwood stuff is great, but I want the lift mechanisms physically connected with good ol’ fashioned steel,” the engineer said. “The heating coils will come in a couple of days, but the driveshaft and the propeller are done. I’ve even got condensers for water collection that were built into the mobile workshop so we won’t have to worry about getting thirsty. My main concern--” she stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth while tightening the strange clamps around the ring as Morgan held it still “--is the galley and berthing.”
“Why’s that?” Morgan was holding the stone ring in place despite the wind tugging the huge bag to and fro above their heads. The ship structure was heavy enough not to be shifted, but steel and timber creaked ominously with the stronger gusts. “Also, we’ll need to set up some actual tie-downs or moorings. I can raise stone pillars with rings in them that are anchored to the bedrock, and you can tie onto those. The winds don’t seem to be letting up.”
“That would be lovely,” said Dana, the ring finally secure as the last clamp fastened tight. The interlocking steel hooks held it fast, connected to the beams that were themselves reinforced with steel and likewise secured to the main timbers that ran underneath the entire structure to form the keel. “I’m worried about berthing because, while these expedition guys are professionals in the woods, they’re decidedly not soldiers. It won’t be so bad for the dwarves or the humans, and certainly not the gnomes, but we have some very large beastkin. We can’t just pack everyone in like sardines.”
“Well, at least you’ll be able to land to let people stretch their legs and hunt…”
“That’s the hope, weather permitting.”
“I can stay until we get the other bags finished and installed, and then I think Dad would leave with or without me,” said the sorceress, looking down at the cylinder that had once been part of the crawler. She could feel the mana pulsing within it, even inactive. “Did you make any more progress on a radio?”
“I did!” Dana confirmed. “But, I don’t know how much it will help you, it’s not a real radio. It’s more like a...dynamic rune inscription on differing sheets of alloy that lets me send a signal between another matching set of runes.” She waved her hand in a vague gesture. “I do think we’re onto something for long range comms though.”
“Well I have two enhancement points, and I think we can work with that to make a sort of two way radio.”
“How so?”
“If we can make it work, I want to try to increase my enchanting skills to manage a way to communicate, and then try to make a new rune for my [Soul Anchor]. I hate to give up my sight rune, but maybe I can make a visor tattoo that acts like a two-way radio…”
Dana grinned. “I like the way you think. There’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to come up with something that does both. Multipurpose enchanting!”
Morgan laughed as they headed towards the other woman’s workshop.