The wraiths hunted with the ferocity of hounds unleashed. Tim caught that they avoided branches where possible. If they’re like him in aura form, he assumed they also preferred avoiding the unpleasant passing through physical matter. Their speed also increased when they didn’t have to. Not only was the root wall his best path to Chris, but it also put a whole lot of stone between him and their friends.
It also gave him another idea. The aura coursing through him from the Takekuma spirit felt like being set free from a cage and finally able to stretch his muscles. His gliding speed gave him enough room to test a theory. He hadn’t tried to go full aura form since his waterfall bath. What if he combined his Dexterity with Fleeing and intentionally faded? Would it be faster to run through branches? A tree closed in. If he was wrong, this was going to hurt. He braced for that but had to try. This could have implications for self-defense and attacks. If he could fade and unfade at will?
Guess you’ll have to try it out. I couldn’t–
Wraith-Cat scratch! Tim swung a fist at a tree mid stride, hoping this wasn’t going to end in broken knuckles. A surge of C-Mana bubbled in his forearm. Spikes of vibrating aura seized his arm from elbow to knuckles. Pink veins pulsed across his bracers and gloves. A flash erupted like a Tron racer across his knuckles. His fist transformed into a transparent facsimile and flowed through the wood. Tremors shook through his arm, and his speed decreased in the friction, but it went through. On the other side, the spell fizzled out and the pink veins released his arm to normal.
Well, normal if you don’t count the zinger. Yeow! Tim shook his hand out like braining a fish, or a stingray on the other end.
Skills Flee and Hand to Hand Combat combined to create new Aura Mage skill: Mist.
Sweet! His aura storage dwindled, but oh could that be worth it. Tim skimmed the paragraph of skill detail and warnings about fading from overuse, just scoped down to the remaining MP: 26. Whoa. Over 40 MP dropped off his total.
With Tim’s pause to test and successfully evolve his new skill, Tonda had darted into a bush. She came out now with a furry vermin in her mouth and aura fire in her eyes. Blood spilled over the creature’s back where Tonda’s incisors penetrated. Pink tendrils of aura inhaled into her nostrils, resonating in her eyes like sparks to the flame.
“I’m glad you’re feeling so spry,” Tim said and patted her head. “Good girl.” He snapped a finger to the woods, and she darted off with the grace of an overgrown greyhound. Good girl, he called out as she disappeared into the foliage, her growling signaling another victory on the horizon.
Tim spotted a lahef vine growing inside the bush. He foraged a few handfuls, pricking his hands on thorns in the bush, and started to eat on the way to the rock. A minimal amount of HP and a bit more MP slowly regenerated in his totals.
A shriek echoed close behind. Ptolemy drove his head further into the wraith’s guts, pinning it to a tree three feet away. Tim’s Danger Sense was stretched so far in front of him he’d left none behind.
You have some. Part of the wraith’s ability is stealth. Similar to Ptolemy.
“Keep going!” Papa P shouted. His voice muffled in the plasma pool surrounding his head.
“Thank you!” Tim would have argued about staying to help, but his Danger Sense pinged off a sense of desperation among his party. He regained his stride and speed, darting from path chain to path chain, over gnarled roots, and holes. Aura Light kept the ground clear enough to avoid nasty falls. Could you summarize how Mist works? Why’d it cost so much to punch through a tree?
It won’t always cost that much. The first try used MP to evolve the skill. Though the combination of low level power and resistance of the object also influenced the higher cost.
So, if I punched through a metal shield—
You can’t. Not yet. At level one, consider that tree about as hard as it gets.
Could I punch through someone’s rib cage?
Maybe. It depends on their armor, their Constitution score, your Strength…
Tim beat the wraiths to the tree and climbed to the ridge with twenty feet to spare. Ptolemy was giving them hell to pay, and somehow slipping between their grasp to wallop the next one with his ghost hammer. Bazinga!
Tonda scaled the rock wall with her tough claws and feline gifted agility. Aura flowed in tune with her muscles to help propel her faster.
She possessed an above average adaptability and courage that could shine if her tenacity didn’t get her killed first. That he’d found her on death’s doorstep now made more sense. At the same time, he rooted for her victories.
Okay, is there a way to tell armor and all that before I try?
When the time comes, you’ll have to apply your senses and power to break through. Use your hunter instincts to identify their weaknesses.
Thank you. Tim wasn’t just an offensive player. He considered how it may work the same way in the opposite, where he could use Mist for a defensive advantage.
An arrow appeared in the corner of his vision. His Flee failed to fully escape, and a burning cut lit up across his cheek. The head grazed his nose before pelting into a tree branch. Tim snagged it and poured aura fury into the shaft. Scanning the forest with Danger Sense, he spotted the aggressive essence of the shooter right as the next bolt launched. Tim twisted and activated Flee and Forage. The tip still sliced his arm on its way past, but he snatched it by the tail and spun the rest of the way around another tree.
Bolts hit his tree from multiple angles.
“Any body feel like singing a song?” Tim asked, activating Aura Bow.
He stretched the bolt out with bird bones, fusing and polishing it over with the fresh Takekuma aura. Man, he loved this stuff. It was fine cuisine compared to the aura he’d absorbed from other creatures. XP stored in his Crafting container, along with a note: fusing two materials… use of bird bone in the rear of the shaft increased distance 20%.
The incline flattened out where the crossbowmen held up behind trees and logs. A hood inched up, thinking it was safe from Tim’s view. His Aura Light helped illumine not only the details of the forest floor and objects in his path, but also what was behind them.
“Anyone know Free Bird?” He lifted his bow and loosed his arrow in full aura form. On the tune of Lynyrd’s fine guitar intro playing in his mind, the arrow sailed through four trees before Tim yanked back on the aura to unsheath physical form. The arrowhead split the skin and planted in the hooded man’s throat. Its feathered end stuck out of its resting place like a calling card as the man sank into the forest.
Repeater Bonus. Critical Hit percent enhanced chance through double whammy fight style and the second, third and fourth tree it passed through before hitting its target.
Congrats.
Aura rimmed loot dumped onto the grass behind the tree. The three crossbow men farthest away shot cover fire, forcing Tim back behind his tree. Alright. Play it like that. He didn’t have time to catch up to the darting crossbowman and snatch the loot. Tonda could.
Tim cast Keeper on Tonda then pointed at the loot glowing like a campfire. “Tonda, loot!”
He cast Aura Light at the crossbowman he knew was firing next. She took off in the delay, skirted past a shrub that the next bolt entered. Tim poured aura and c-mana into transforming his arrow and stretching it with his bird bones. He worked on that while the cover guards launched their one two three cadence of bolts into his tree. They let the jexin race their bowman while they kept Tim pinned. Or at least that’s what he let them believe, that he was trapped. With his MP still in the low 90s, he cast battleground on the shrub with the stray bolt.
Protection soared like a star, flashed in its center, and beamed out through every branch. Tim cast Aura Light and nocked his arrow. One bolt flew past. Tim spun the other way, locked the middle bowman in his sights. The man blinked rapidly, his eyes glazed in starlight, clearly struggling to see. Tim adjusted to greensight and loosed his arrow—a wraith shrieked out of his blindside. Tim’s arrow veered wide of center, but still had hope. He didn’t see because he was busy facing a charging wraith. The guy looked like Beetlejuice mixed with a Donny Darko in creepy bunny head costume creepy.
Tim released Aura Bow and equipped his aura axe and dagger. He hid the dagger behind his thigh, raising his axe to shield his face. The wraith hit him with a long-stretched hand, elastic to meet the need. The hand entered Tim’s forearm and jolted him with a shockwave deep into his bone. -23 HP.
Tim slashed the aura axe across the wraith’s chest. Now Free Bird’s rocking finale had him going as his soundtrack to a good ol’ fashion Iowan buck kickin’. The blade hooked off the flapping flesh dangling from its waist skirt, scouring it into a sideways tumble. Tim whipped his dagger around and planted it high up the wraith’s ribs. The aura bones cracked. A spark of life shot out from the tip of his blade. Hot energy stung his hand. He jerked it back, numbed then aching.
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An arrow shot into view. He twisted away and it grazed his armor. The wraith’s dying aura followed him to the shrub. He fell onto his side unsure if he should fight back—too late.
The spirit sought the edge that cut it. A deep purple aura flowed down the tip, absorbing into the blade and then spread into the handle. Energy bucked against Tim’s grip. He sent his cultivated aura to meet it on the battlefield and held the dagger steady as the two forces engaged. Spirit Memory cast a window in his mind with a view of young man, matured in muscle and in the mind’s eye. Deep black tattoos on Travis’s face and neck marked him as knowing struggle. On his knees, with his hands bound behind his back, he looked at his axe wielding executioner with firm resolve.
“Do you have any last words,” a man asked. Tim recognized the voice and aura. Lias. As though unlocking the memory with the key of the man’s name, a cloud pulled back to show the artisan and three spellcasters standing back far enough to avoid bloodspill on their flowing maroon cloaks.
The energy kicked at Tim’s grip like a stuck pig, but as its strength faltered, Tim’s aura redirected its fight into the blade.
In the vision, Travis looked Lias in the eye. “You can have this form. I’ll be back.” The downward arrow tattoo on his cheek singed the skin, tickling the muscles across his face with fire.
“Now!” Lias ordered. A mix of fear and anger seized his gaze. He leveled a finger at Travis. The executioner wound his axe and slammed it clean through.
Too late. The poison in his tattoo found its way to Travis’s spirit. The fury in his blood opened by the edge of the executioner’s blade expanded and grew into the wraith’s form. Travis had sold his father’s land to buy this tincture from the Krow named Rsi. The cartel were close to taking it anyway, but Rsi said he had plans for it. The wraith transformation ink would enable Travis to fight back in the afterlife. Blood pooled on the stage planks, slipping into the cracks to dot the once dry dirt in the shade beneath.
The spell gathered strength from the blood and carried Travis’s spirit with its fall. Lias caught the aura energy swirling in the blood. “Incinerate him!”
Fireballs launched from the spellcasters’ staffs. Travis’s body and most of the stage exploded in a flash, a gust of heat that drove Lias back into one of the casters and scorched the executioner into sudden mist. Black smoke bloomed out, blinding them.
Travis’s spirit absorbed the smoke, the spark, and the hatred. Then slipped out from the broken planks to slither into the castle streets. Over the next year, Travis carefully picked off Lias’s servants and disrupted nixstone centers wherever he could find them.
The 70’s night karaoke bar in his mind sung the intro to Carry On My Wayward Son.
Travis had come here to hunt Lias. I’m with you on that. Help me avenge you. To Dryfu, he thought, can Aura Mages release wraiths similar to how my Spirit Memory released the victims of Squire’s Castle?
Yes, that is a potential skill you can evolve. You’d need a higher level in Aura Mage, maybe ten. Spirit Memory a bit higher, too. Also significant aura and a successful coffin crafting to put the spirit in. A hands width and finger length in size will do, but the detail requirement rises with the level of the wraith you’re releasing.
Thank you Dryfu. That was clearer than the paragraph and three dots indicating much more text to read.
Tim continued finessing aura crafting over the bolt in his hand. Nearly done at the tips. Two, then four wraiths rose over the ledge, forcing the flanking bowman back into the trees. They hovered and scanned left to right. One’s attention attracted near Tim. It hovered closer.
Aura arrow complete. Tim shared Dryfu’s information with Travis and carefully nocked his arrow, eyes on the wraiths who didn’t see him, instead focusing on the bowman. When we’re done, I will release you from your curse.
Level 9 Wraith, Travis has joined your party.
Now all he was missing was the train from Final Fantasy and he could work on his quest to return Cyan’s family.
Not likely.
The ghost smoked out of Tim’s gotr bone handle, slowly coalescing into his prior form.
Gotr dagger has been blessed by the wraith, Travis to become a Carrying Vessel. It can now carry up to two tier two wraiths, or three tier one.
Is that why Joe was fascinated to see it?
Yes, gotr is a stone crafted by the Krow to store, protect and hide their aura companions. You haven’t evolved the skill yet to enchant gotr, so Travis donated his aura to bless it.
Travis’s form gained steam and strength while Tim and the wraiths observed curiously. Whispers shared between them in a tongue that made Tim’s skin crawl. Travis reached full form and zipped off after the bowmen. Wraiths picked up his tracks like a pack of dogs and several more zoomed after. Tonda growled under a tree. The bowmen had lost the race and were paying dearly.
The western front of the battlefield was a ragged edge toward a long fall. Sparse trees framed the land below while the clouded dark made it hard to tell how high he really was.
The Drakkon had used their lizard instincts to scale the wall and sneak behind Jil’s position. What they lacked in quick movement they made up for in driving power and hard armor. Thron charged and slammed a shield into a dragon’s face. Bone surely broke, yet the creature barely slowed. Its retort slashed a long claw across Thron’s gut. Two more Drakkon lurked in the shadows, inching into position.
Thron clenched his right fist. Aura flowed up his forearm and the spikes on his bracer, turning his knuckles molten red. Thron whipped around and punched the Drakkon in the back. Spine cracked. Its back arched as he tried in vain to get out of Thron’s finishing move.
Tim sprinted for a clearing where he could get a line on the nearest assassin. The way they didn’t even speed up when their ally was about to get killed helped Tim accept that he would soon take another life. If he got lucky. He hated abandoning his shrub with still forty seconds left on his spell.
So take it with you.
What?
Oil and Water blends material with immaterial to form new boundaries. Remember that.
Tim reached for the shrub, let the Protection aura lap against his hand.
Now draw it in, as though moving a rock to redirect the river into you.
The Drakkon crept within a few feet of Thron. Danger Sense spiked from their grace and calculated moves. Assassination was the peak of their skills. Before they could, Tim extended his other hand toward one of them. He reached deeper into the Protection aura emanating from the shrub. A coolness spread over his fingers. He let it in. It took over his hand, his wrist. He welcomed it further. It passed through his arm. The Drakkon charged. Now!
The Protection chill cracked like an iceberg across his chest and exploded through his other hand. The burn when it shot out diverted his aim. The Drakkon raised swords curved to gut a man from hip to hip. Tim’s Protection missile hit the ground twenty behind Thron. It saturated the ground and flushed outward, spreading out like a blue film over the grass. It faltered short of Thron by ten feet. Crap.
Tim bolted to get closer. “Thron, watch out!”
Thron spun his shield into the path of a sword. The impact jolted his arm and drew him forward, off balance.
Tim wouldn’t be surprised if the shield had cracked under that powerful strike.
“Thron, behind you!” Tim shouted mid-stride. He was out of MP herbs and had many other plans for what he had to spend without shooting another Protection spell so close to the existing one.
The second Drakkon swung its tail under Thron’s swiping arm. It belted him in the leg and flipped him onto his back. Tim activated Aura Blades and readied his axe in his throwing hand, waiting for a clear shot. His shot sight shifted orange and red between the movement of the Drakkon.
Thron kicked a Drakkon in the face, cracking bone and separating jaw from scales. The other raised its sword. He rolled and the blade struck the ground, missing him by inches.
Tim prepped like an outfielder about to throw the ball home to get the runner at the plate. Greensight. He planted his foot and hurled the axe with everything he had. It spun end over end toward the Drakkon’s core. The creature leaned and twisted. Raised an arm to block. Not enough. The axe blurred as it passed through the forearm and buried in his ribs. Drakkons emanated little aura, but what it had splashed out from the injury.
An explosion like one of the goblin grenades went off southwest of the campground.
Thron grabbed grass at the edge of Protection ring and blocked a tail with his leg. The axe wounded Drakkon coughed and staggered. Fresh yellow blood oozed from the cracked plates in its armor where the blade had pierced. Tim tried Oil and Water as he ran. The blade shook in the interference with Tim’s withdrawing force and where it was stuck in bone.
Thron spun and rolled into the center of the protection ring. Similar to other instances, the Battleground was only visible to allies. Thron made his retreat to that position feel natural in response to the Drakkon’s full frontal attack. Whether the Drakkon had any idea of the sudden advantage, it did not slow. Stubbornness and pride drove it on, blow after blow.
Thron dipped under a sword, reared his glowing fist and slammed its aura-red knuckles deep into the ground.
Tim hopped over the seismic wave, floated a bit in its afterburner. Straightening in his landing, he propelled himself to the second Drakkon. The wave caught it and threw him into a bush. Thron left the circle to jump at the left Drakkon. As Tim closed in on the one in the bush, he read a + indicator hovering in blue light beside his axe.
Double whammy potential - Active.
Aura from his axe infected the Drakkon with weakness to Tim’s influence. He used that to press the Drakkon’s strongest limbs, pinning them down. Or at least trying. The Drakkon was pissed and snarling to get out of the bush. Tim gripped his knife and dove.
Days of the Drakkon’s life sped into weeks, months and more. Tim stuffed them down for later. He saw enough to know this was one wicked dude. For now, he yelled. Brute versus brute and he wasn’t going home anything but the victor.
Asfrus wrenched his tail from Tim’s aura control. Tim swung his dagger. The tail snapped his head. Dazed. Lost some of his grip. Then a lot. He transferred the last of his fluid to change his dagger into an aura blade. Salyards’ advice to try and move Indi telepathically came to mind. He punched the dagger for the narrow gap in the Drakkon’s helmet. With only a foot to go, the blade shot out and buried in a blink. Double whammy indeed.
Tim hit the ground with the grace of a dropped suitcase. Critical hit scored his kill.
If he could have stood, he would have. For now, stars glistened, and he wondered if the trickle down his neck was too thick to be sweat. Definitely.
More explosions rocked from the woods by the camp. More frequent. Tim didn’t have time to be injured. HP 87 MP 53.
Despite the midrange stats, his head felt like Mike Tyson had just cracked him a good one, and his aura depletion sucked his body dry like the tail end of a three day flu. Adrenaline kept him engaged enough to find his brother running at him. He pointed at the camp and shouted “Roz! Jil!”
A fluid thread entered the back of Tim’s skull, startling him. Then more encircled his forehead and settled into his neck with muscle relaxing pressure. Pleasure replaced pain, strength filling the cloud of malaise. He rolled up and sent a Danger Sense ping for where Chris had pointed. His brother raised his staff crossways, presumably at Thron. Spirals of leafy wind tunneled out from the staff in a semi contained storm of green lightning. The same intense light flared in his eyes.
Tim cast Aura Light into the head of the spiral, where it twisted into a knot and redirected to spread seeds along the ground. Lightning zapped his touch and sparked outward. Tendrils of green coated in pink rode the wind. Three forks soaring with long tails, illuminating the waist high fur weeds and coursing through an open nest of dori flies.
Danger Sense caught a hook in Roz and Jil in a firefight. Three cartel defending the secret tent with crossbows and goblin bombs. He didn’t sense any Drakkon, though there weren’t as many dead bodies as he’d pinged before. A sense of retreat returned from his probes around the dead ones.
He directed the forks through a narrow gap in a log’s branches. Once clear, he beamed them at Roz’s spinning chime. Caught it as Roz was getting it warm again. An explosion boomed behind them. Dirt and chunks of tree suffocated Tim’s forks. He joined Thron and Chris in a footrace for his friends.
Danger Sense pinged off a wave of goblins riding toward the noise.
Their aura essence read: exhilaration. Validation. They’d set this trap for him, and he’d walked right in.