My sincerest apologies readers, it appears that a minor goddess has made additions to my book without my permission. I cannot remove these additions due to the nature of this particular goddess’s abilities, so I have done the next best thing and punished her to the best of my ability.
I am also legally required under the Divine Entity Suppression Act of 635 to say that I have, at time of writing, successfully contained the aforementioned goddess and ensured that she will not cause problems for the foreseeable future. Once again, my sincerest apologies to any aspiring authors who may have been affected by her transgressions.
And now with that legal bullshittery out of the way, on to the chapter! And right into the action might I add!
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“Hey uh Mr. Driver Man…? I think we have something tailing us… or rather somethings.” I said nervously.
The driver of the rear caravan wagon turned his head back to take a look. I thought the Elf would have lost his feathers had they puffed out any further as his face contorted in a mix of fear and… excitement?
Pursuing us was a small pack of quadrupeds covered in brown feathers, with each having small pseudo-wings on all four legs — the feathers of which terminated in horizontal black stripes. Their tail feathers also possessed this feature as they fanned from side to side as they moved.
On closer approach they began letting out shrill cries in regular intervals, sounding almost like the laughing cry of a falcon.
“Aye lad! That there’s a pack of lesser savannah arlynx!” said the driver as he pulled out a small hand crossbow from a pack behind him. “Smart little buggers too! They know our draft beasts are slowing down to rest, so they think this’ll be an easy hunt!” the driver bellowed. “Little do they know, the hunter is about to become the hunted!”
Hearing this gave me confidence. “Am I alright to help out then?” I asked, an idea forming in my head.
“Lookin’ ta help us out are ya?” he replied. “Well who am I to deny ya! If you’ve got a bow then fire away! These little things aren’t just gonna let us kill ‘em!” he laughed.
I didn’t have a bow, but my idea was about as close to one as I could get. I took a rock from the sack that had once contained rations, and drew my arm back.
“Accelerate!”
With a burst of internal mana I let loose the rock, hearing a deafening bang! as it hurtled at one of the arlynx… only for it to deftly evade the makeshift bullet with a lazy sway, its piercing eyes glowing a subtle white. The rock’s impact kicked up a cloud of dust behind its intended target as they continued their pursuit.
…
The FUCK?? Did that thing just dodge?!
[Well yeah what did you think was gonna happen?]
But I basically shot a g-
…
How did you get out.
[Max, you locked a door.]
Corner. Now.
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Where were we?
Uhh.. right! Caravan! Gun failed!
“Lad! Are you a magus?! You should ‘ave said somethin’! We’d have paid ya to come along!” yelled the driver from behind me as he loosed another bolt, grazing one of the arlynx. By this point the entire caravan had joined in steadily bringing down the pack’s numbers.
This had me confused since Jasko had mentioned that most people know how to cast. “Can’t most people cast?” I yelled back in question.
“Aye that’s right lad! But not many can do it under stress — most of us just go into discharge! It requires a lot of training to get that far! In fact, you seem pretty young; who taught you?” he said, firing another bolt — this one hit a more exhausted looking arlynx square in the head, killing it instantly.
“I was taught in a small Girtablilu village in the south! Dilanja if I remember correctly!” I said, hurling another rock, this one reasonably saturated. The shrapnel of the ensuing explosion killed at least three arlynx, injuring a few more.
“Ahh that would explain it then! They’re excellent teachers I hear, especially when it comes to magic!” he surmised, reaching around his bag for more bolts.
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I nearly died to it, but to each their own I suppose.
The arlynx were beginning to back off now, so we opted to return to our more relaxed state. “They definitely have a unique way of teaching! But no, I’m not a proper magus, I don’t think. That’s why I’m going to Elion; I want to learn more about magic.”
“Got yer eye on that academy they’ve got then? Normally I’d advise against it, since they’re pretty strict about who they let in, but you just might have the talent to catch their eye!” he guffawed.
As we continued our conversation draft beasts had began to slow to a near stop. When they had fully stopped we set up camp for the night, each wagon erecting their own amenities and utilities. The wagon that I had been riding contained only the driver and myself. The driver had taken to mingling with the other wagons; while I had chosen to remain alone at the wagon for a short while.
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I took Stabby in both hands and examined the blade, freshly engraved runes subtly illuminating the blade. I had nearly destroyed it trying to brand it, those brands really are touchy when it comes to the iron ones! Fortunately I had been able to prevent a major discharge, and only ended up burning myself.
The spell that I had given Stabby was a simple penetration spell like Kalenz had recommended. It used three runes, one to indicate the foundational command — penetrate, one to define the magnitude, and one to define the range. Those two parameters had a strong influence on the overall mana consumption of the spell, so I kept them relatively low.
Upon having first tested the spell against the poor tree — apparently a nemlys tree — that I had been assailing during my experiments, I found that even keeping the parameters low still gave a rather decent output. The spell had nearly brought the tree down from nearly 15 feet away! The mana consumption still wasn’t great though, but that may have had something to do with the nature of the spell itself, and not just the parameters.
Either way, when Ava found out about the tree I thought she’d been about to skin me alive! She gave me quite the dressing down, telling me that if she ever caught me doing that again that she would have me working that tavern for the next year! I’d laughed, but if looks could kill, then the gaze she hit me with would have atomized me on the spot.
I examined the other end of the spear. The apparent function of the oar-like ending had seemingly been revealed to me when I learned what you could do with runes. A shield spell had been my choice of spell. And by flipping the spear around, I could conjure a small shield at that end of the spear. It would move wherever I aimed the spear, and the strength of the shield was directly proportional to how much mana I put into it. There were four runes for this particular spell. The first one of course defined the spell itself, while the second one was a bit different. That one actually further defined what type of shield it would cast.
I could cast either a ‘hard’ shield, or a ‘soft’ shield. Hard shields were solid walls of mana, according to Kalenz, and were extremely costly to even cast them at all. They would most often be found used by either incredibly skilled combat magi as a sort of instant parry instead of a persistent shield, or large creatures that had enough mana stores to maintain one, like the sandworm.
Soft shields are where it gets interesting though, since they don’t directly stop something with what would essentially be physical matter. Instead, they use a force of sorts to slow down projectiles and blows. I had theorized that it might sap kinetic energy in some way other than placing a solid obstacle in the way, which had led me to the conjecture that it used some kind of gravity field. It seemed plausible, but I also admitted to myself that it was also rather far-fetched. Gravity is normally only produced in large amounts by very dense or massive objects, so I eventually ruled it out.
Perhaps a more esoteric method then? I had considered that maybe magic could directly manipulate energy, since it could spontaneously bond elements. And if this was the case, then the potential of magic had just skyrocketed immensely.
I tore my eyes away from Stabby and gave my gaze to the sky. I allowed my eyes to wander again to the two Helsan moons — Lus and Mis. Mis had still seen better days, with the glint that I had noticed a few nights prior at Ava’s tavern having become more noticeable. Rings, albeit not formed to their fullest extent quite yet. Mis was progressing along it’s own destruction rather quickly, and for that it had my sympathy. And yet I still could not help but admire the innate beauty of such an event, the very idea held me enraptured.
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I finished my astronomical observations and made for the other wagon that the driver had been chatting up. They were sat around what looked to be a mess kit of sorts perched over a fire, the pot boiling over with a savory scent wafting from it.
The driver — whose name I would learn to be Brom — quickly took notice and waved me over. “Come on over and ‘ave some stew Mr. Magus! Those arlynx gave us plenty to go around!”
I picked up the pace and made my way over to the fire and took a seat. The caravan seemed to consist mostly of elves, though I had noticed a new sapient species among them. It was short. It was stocky. And it was positively covered in… hair? Feathers? These ones were weird. I wouldn’t quite tell what about them was causing that effect. They had a very smooth quality to them, almost like they were a flat sheet of hair… material? I decided that I would have to get a closer look in the future.
Woah. Head to toe. I can barely see the eyes on this one! That plate armor looks really heavy too!
“Havin’ a gander at Sanon? I don’t blame ya, dwarves pretty rare around these parts. They tend to keep to themselves in their forge cities in the far south. When they do venture out here it’s usually pretty important.” Brom explained.
This intrigued me, so I inquired further. “Oh? And do you happen to know why Sanon is out here?”
Brom seemed to be recalling something. “Ahh… she’s out here lookin’ for some spellsilver. I told her that she’d be finding it easiest over in Elion, and so she insisted on tagging along. She offered her labor as compensation, so we settled on that. Dwarves are really quite strong, and they’ll drink damn near anyone under the table too!” he said with boisterous laughter.
“She?” I couldn’t really tell, and truth be told I didn’t want to assume. “Is that the norm for dwarves?” I asked cautiously. I hadn’t really any idea on gender norms or how well it was understood on Helsa, so I chose to tread carefully.
Brom had noticed the apparently evident caution in my voice. “Oh don’t worry much about that lad. They all look about the same, and I don’t mean that to be rude. They literally do look identical save for their clothing and accessories. That hair of theirs is something they’ll never cut unless they absolutely have to. Under no circumstances should you ever touch it without permission.”
This caught my attention. “May I ask why it is that they never cut it?”
“Because it’ll kill ‘em.”