Tim returned to his bed and did his best monk pose for long enough he lost track. Practicing the breathing techniques S’Trace taught him, where he forced himself to recall areas that tingled where his XP percolated per skill as well as where muscles inflamed in overuse of the same skill. His efforts started with breathing and rolling out soft tissue inflammation with a weighted ball Jil gifted to him from one of the past residents of the castle.
Often during these breathing and stretching sessions, he hummed songs to associate with skills and once the tune ended, he moved to the next song and skill to send his regen-coated c-mana. This healing of his body piece by piece became addictive as each section’s relief to the pains of his flesh treated his spirit with a lighter burden in surviving. The pneumatic device of song also helped to activate skills quicker, so, double bonus on that one.
In this dedicated time to self-healing, the rat race and rush of battle calmed to the quiet of an unseen breeze. In its passing, the aches and fog-saturated thoughts cleared to allow him movement toward a purpose and gratitude for the time to do what he wanted.
Sometimes that want was simply to sing and remember the joy of being alive.
Once his channels felt strong, he produced cultivation mana for arrow crafting.
Thankful for reaching 2nd tier as an Aura Mage, he didn’t have to save c-mana boosts because of how quickly they spent XP. Now his limitations focused on his weakest attribute in Constitution, meaning the better he took care of his body and treated his recovery, the more c-mana he could regen while using his skills. That was also part of S’Trace’s training. He taught him how to get comfortable and patient, stretching it out so he could minimize how much he used when crafting. Tracing the power born in each breath, he built up XP and kept c-mana on the up trickle even as he spent it to boost his abilities.
The c-mana cooling his inflamed aura channels allowed him to make sharper, sturdier arrows, which in turn produced better accuracy and power. Still on a roll at one hundred made so far, he pressed on to one twenty-five before calling it a day.
After that, he took dried Takekuma skins Thron had flattened and started Crafting and Aura Shield to make his own shield. He carved its frame from a Seltimel tree Chris grew and imbued the Takekuma with aura to channel through the sap pocket in the wood. The seven rings absorbed and stored a magical regen to anyone who equipped it.
On top of MP and aura regen to anyone equipping the shield at a rate of 1% of max per minute, the front absorbed up to 20% of aura attacks and 10% of physical strikes before losing any durability. The snakeskin-padded strap on the back funneled half of that aura power back into the wielder. By the final stitch, his hands and forearms buzzed with exhaustion no matter how many times he played Rosetta Stoned in his mental jukebox.
Taking a break, he found the rest of the group armor-ready and congregated at the stairwell leading to the train station below. Their heavy mood precipitated Thron pointing his sword down the stairs.
Tim activated Danger Sense and peered into the dark beyond the stairs. He cast Battleground and Aura Light, drawing the curtain of shadow apart and revealing a small pile of glowing aura at the bottom.
“What’s that?” Tim asked no one in particular. Danger Sense buzzed with high peaks like a seismograph during an earthquake. Tim put his hand out to halt the group, then took careful steps closer.
The aura bounty seemed too good to be true. Its location is a prime spot for a trap. Either the Murphy thought he was too stupid to resist, or… could it have been here since the monster first tore through the castle? If so, why would it still be here and not absorbed?
He didn’t get nearly enough HP and MP regen up top, so this aura would help boost his c-mana to the full fourteen seconds of base time. His trickle breathing found a way to minimize and extend that, but full go remained maxed out at fourteen.
Tim felt like Will Smith when the vampires from I Am Legend planted their trap at dusk. Too bad Big Willy wasn’t an aura mage.
Halfway down the steps, his aura vision differentiated space and shape to an estimation that the source of the light was a small pile of bodies. Three of them, two under a larger who shielded them in death. Each soaked into an aura puddle bigger than any he’d seen.
A growling noise awoke under the pile. Bubbles popped on the puddle surface.
Tim stopped, raising his shield to nose level and relayed the update to the group.
Papa Ptol emerged from the wall beside him. “Hold on, skipper. That’s an aura mine. I didn’t see it. Your aura light and danger sense revealed it.”
Abilities evolved new skill: Mine Detection.
“Nice,” Tim whispered, still unsure if it were about to erupt. “What do we do now? Can I disarm it? I’m excited for the new ability, but I’m trying to save my evolution juice for whatever killing the vahkel will give me.”
“We could go around,” Papa Ptol said, thumbing behind him. “I doubt this is the only one. If you can figure out how to disarm it, that aura is yours.”
“If I don’t?”
“You’ll melt under its power. Picture a puppy getting swallowed into an ocean swell. It’ll recollect with your energy and create a bigger mine.”
“Not so nice.”
“No.”
The pile of crap on his doorstep threatening him and his friends was enough to make him say, “Screw it, I’m gonna try.”
“Try not, young padawan,” his brother said.
“Yeah yeah, dork.” Memories of their stair descent and interrogation of Warryn gave him an idea. He pointed at Chris’s staff. “Mind sending a little tickle up under the middle? I’ll join you with my new detection ability and see if we can’t pick this lock.”
Tim popped the hilt of his dagger on a button on his Rryeg belt, sparking the phy core and aimed the energy at the mist of sparkling seeds Chris lofted past him. Their yellow white light intensified and hit the ground with a flourish of growth. Vines as thick as spaghetti expanded in width by inches and sustained progress to stretch and aura dive through the floor. They submerged and Tim halted the roots a few feet under the mine. He focused on Aura Bond and Draw, leeching some of the aura mine into the ground with the lure of aura as his bait. Draw brought it into the roots, while Aura Bond connected Tim with the mine as it ingested his aura. With this ability, the more of his aura the subject contained, the higher the likelihood they could bond. His suspicion being if they bonded, he could trick it into not erupting.
Unlike the cloefen fish, the aura mine’s robust defenses and trigger-happy release mechanism kept him achingly patient. One by one, new roots accepted the mine’s probing and ingestion, like drinking mist.
Once he had about twenty percent balance between their conjoined aura, he activated Magic Hunt and blended it with Mine Detection and Spirit Memory. The bodies the Murphy used were a brother and sister, no older than eight, and their uncle who died trying to save them. They were in this tunnel among a dozen more waiting for a train when the Murphy struck.
Tim carefully coated the root tips with Aura Armor while distracting the spirits with space to breathe their last memories. Arca had been excited to ride the train with her older brother for the first time. With tickets to Maringley and a pouch of silver pieces she saved to buy enchanted paints, she was sad her father was away hunting the cartel and couldn’t see her take one more step toward adulthood and adventure. Someday, she’d find a way to join him, painting living maps of Outer Rim islands so they could travel as a family. Karo was annoyed at her incessant questions about Maringley and what new food she’d try first. Part of that was his fault for telling her of the various soups they specialized in, but more so he was growing concerned that the train was late. It was never this late. Something was wrong.
At the point in the memory when the ground rumbled and aura vines broke through the walls, Tim whispered, I’ll protect you.
They fought back, fearing he was part of the Murphy. The charge simmered and hissed.
“Where are you from?”
Tim thought of Iowa and the life he left behind when he walked through that door. Now, he claimed Childockia.
They rebuffed at that. Before they could blow, he sent memories of soldiers who died fighting for the city. I’m here to avenge your loss. All of you.
“You’re a priest?”
Tim laughed nervously, then considered himself a man of faith and on some kind of mission to help this world. Sure. However I can help, I will.
Their resistance eased off and the boiling slowly settled.
Tim’s Draw absorbed aura to replenish the stamina lost.
A new protective layer slid between him and the spirits. Bolts spun tight and a charge went off on a path winding back toward the activant.
In this new strength, Tim formed a key combining Magic Hunt with Aura Armor and spun the roots in a sprint to cut it off. A root tip cut through first. It flinched. He turned the key—
An eruption of light shot from tiny bunkers in the ceiling. Tim raised his shield. Hot flashes punched through his armor.
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Concussive booms rocked up through the stairs, bouncing Tim and his weakened legs onto his side. A focused wave of aura struck him in the back. His new friends. Aura by the bucketload.
The ceiling barrage halted in the wake of the flurry of lights filling the tunnel.
Aura swarmed after pain and firing nerves up and down his legs and into his chest. Spasms wracked him and halted his air flow. Hands grasped under his arms and pulled him up to the landing.
Papa Ptol swam down under the ceiling to scan the aftershock. He whistled a cheer that said all Tim needed to know.
For now.
Tingling washed away in cool strokes of the mine’s aura removing the foreign invaders swimming through his mana channels. The Murphy set that second trap; Tim’s key unlocked the fallen spirits to be released; and they’d sent him a bounty of aura on top of what they shot into the turrets.
Congratulations!
You have evolved the ability: Aura Ward!
At level one you can permanently ward one item in your inventory.
Choose the item now?
Not now, Tim thought.
“You okay?” Jil asked, bow ready and eyes locked on the tunnel.
Tim grunted through the clenching power coursing inside him. “Great,” he squeaked. After a deeper breath, he added, “Ready to go.”
“We don’t have to do this,” she said, impressing Tim that she’d not drawn a line between them. If he couldn’t, we couldn’t.
“Thank you,” he replied, and she seemed to catch why.
She shrugged playfully. “I’ve turned down plenty of missions involving significant payouts. Even if this doesn’t lead to the jewel, which I still think it could be the hiding spot even if you’re calling the Pads tomb our spot; even if we don’t get the jewel tonight, we can strike a major blow against the cartel by not only stopping them from getting the aura generator and the Murphy’s aura, but the XP we’ll get…” She blew out a sweet whistle. “You feel free to sit it out though. We don’t really need–”
“Okay. I’m good. Jeez, your pestering is worse than my brother’s.”
Chris grinned as he reached to tap Tim’s vest with his staff. A chill swept into the inflamed flesh, silencing the hot scream across one chorus.
“I was going to keep going,” Tim said. Neither the horse whisper nor the rickety way he stood helped his case. A nice bit of XP swirled in his Battleground skill for being able to stand after the Murphy’s trap went off.
“I know. You just liked the attention first.”
“That’s not…”
Chris smiled back, satisfied his joke landed as intended. He tapped another torched spot, this time relieving the burn down Tim’s leg.
“We have spirits to free and I’m ticked enough to end this before I go to sleep tonight,” Tim defended. “Besides, now that I got my vahkel skill, I don’t exactly want to keep it in my pocket.”
“You got it?” Her eyes beamed. “What is it?”
Thron led the group down the stairs, parting with Roz to check one side while Khempal took the other. Her curved golden sword shone like unspent wealth.
While the invisible tendrils worked their healing magic down into his limbs, Tim sent a Danger Sense ping riding on a ball of Aura Light. The illumination passed through the dark with minimal threats far enough he let it go.
Chris looked him over, then tapped one on his hip.
The instant cold sent a spasm into his hand and down his leg. “Phew. Thank you brother.”
“Never say I don’t got your back. What’s this about a new skill?”
“It’s called Aura Ward. Beyond that, I don’t know yet.”
“Aura Ward is an advanced skill that the vahkel evolved to create enclaves,” Dryfu said. “Its central power is the ability to trap aura.”
“Are you saying I could make an enclave, eventually?”
Dryfu rolled his eyes, zipping across Khempal to scope the tunnel. “No time soon, champ. The vahkel absorbed an indescribable amount of aura and XP before it could.”
“Yeah, but I killed it. That’s gotta get me pretty close, right?”
Dryfu cocked one eye in suspicion. “We’ll see.”
Khempal looked back up from her post at the stairwell. “That must be why Aeu sent you. To ward the Murphy into a vessel. Would you send out a Danger ping while I check something?”
Tim drew aura into his palm and blew it out, enhancing the ping with Aura Light so he could see more than life essence and shapes in shadows.
Roz caught the light in his sunchime and twirled it at his side to keep their group visible.
The railway terminal had deep pits for tracks on both sides of the cobble platform. Deeper in, bats fluttered down from dark ceilings. Tim used the aura light to illuminate the corners of the room. Gold plating on the brick walls identified this as Helton Station. The left tunnel went east toward Padstoligan. Aeu’s vision started on the Padstoligan route. The right went south toward Maringley.
“That’s the main trade city on the border of Childockia and Wachamia,” Jil said.
“That’s where Arca was going before the Murphy got them. I think I’d like to visit and buy the paints she meant to get.”
“It could be on our way,” Jil said, “I’ve got friends there, too.”
“One more reason to survive the night,” Tim said. “Nice location,” he added, taking in the terminal as though he hadn’t been caught looking into her eyes. “It would be nice to defend and keep this place. Will the Aura Ward be easier than killing the Murphy?”
“Not necessarily.” Khempal waved them left. “Especially with how your first level of that skill requires you to hold it down while you cast the ward.”
“Oh good,” Tim said. “I felt like today needed a good wrastle.”
“You want some practice,” Chris teased, popping a soft elbow into Tim’s side. “Wouldn’t mind reminding you who the buffer brother is.”
“Why do we need to ward the Murphy?” Tim asked the group. “Does warding it free Aeu?”
“Well, first off that’s two…” Dryfu hovered and gave him the dirty eye, then proceeded back to his “leading meter” he preferred. Why did Tim still feel like he was the dog on a leash?
“I don’t know about Aeu,” Dryfu added. “but the main reason to ward the Murphy would be trapping that much aura and leeching it out as you see fit.”
“As I see fit?” Tim asked. Incredulous about why he’d get the honor. “Clearly we would divide it.”
“You can’t. It’s a ward. You’re the owner. Without you the ward disappears.”
Tim took that in and how he could help his friends with that kind of boon.
“Besides all that, you’re our Aura Mage,” Dryfu said with a swirling wing and a bow.
“And an aura mage is just what we need to turn this curse into a blessing,” Khempal said. “We can’t waste that by just killing it and leaving its wasteland with nothing to show for it. She spun coins into her cheek while writing out a new invoice with golden script into the air. Flecks of light dripped off and disintegrated like embers from a fire. “I’ve just spent way more than I ever thought I would for a malleable vessel strong enough to contain the Murphy. You’ll still have to mold it with your Aura Armor,” she told Tim. “At the same time as you enact the ward.”
“That sounds like fun. I’ve been working on my rap game a bit, too. Should I rap a bit while I’m at it? I’m sure I won’t be distracted.”
Khempal accepted his stress-relieving humor with a merciful smile. “We’re here with you.”
“I appreciate that.” He had no intentions of retreating from the potential blessing before them. He just needed to vent a little. “How do we get it?”
“I assigned your wraith, Josim as our trading scout. He’ll intercept the delivery, and since the vessel is aura formed glass, he’ll be able to absorb it and carry it directly to you. Just blow your whistle when we’re close to the generator.”
One of his wraiths visited him while he was arrow crafting. He’d given Tim what looked like a chipmunk’s skull on a lace necklace infused with aura. It had a range of ten acres to whistle when they were ready for the wraiths to descend into the tunnels.
Their report was a loss of three since the night before. They planned to return to the fields west of the river to bolster their defenses while Tim’s group raided the tunnels. Now their plan relied on them surviving while up top. Tim didn’t love that.
“There’s one more update I have to give before we get too close to fighting again,” Dryfu said.
The tunnel was eerily quiet. Their plan to go the wrong way and misdirect the Murphy to their intentions might be off the table. It might already have withdrawn to hold the line by the generator.
Thron seemed to concur, his face tight and lips flat. “Let’s head straight for the rings.”
Dryfu took flight from Tim’s shoulder to circle in front of Thron as he led the group into the tunnel. “I’d like to present our new tri-class warrior.”
“What?” Tim asked, shocked and eager for the news.
“Our Aura Mage Ranger is now also a Priest of Childockia,” Dryfu said with a floating curtsey. “Am I to expect more or less dick jokes going forward, oh, White One?”
Tim cocked a brow in thought. “More?”
“Wonderful…”
“Brother Priests!” Chris said with a slap to his back. “Isn’t that absolutely ridiculous?” he asked, laughing.
Everyone studied Tim with new appreciation, Jil most of all. Hers might not have been all good. Leaning toward not good, in fact. Doubting…
“Is something wrong?” Tim asked.
She paused to scope the depth of the tunnel. “Not many Childockian priests spend this kind of time in the woods. Most are stuffy book and ceremony types.”
“I like books, but not so much the ceremony.”
“Wait till they teach you the Worm. It’s spectacular.”
“The way you say it makes me think quite the opposite.”
“Oh, you’ll have to see for yourself.”
“Still, not sounding great…”
“As an Oil and Water Mage,” Dryfu filled into the silence as they walked, “your gifting will evolve toward physical and aura regeneration abilities and development.”
More for him to contemplate which to focus on. “We already have a priest for physical healing,” Tim said. “Sounds more and more like oil is my path of specialty.”
“In that case, add a pilgrimage to the capitol before year’s end to maximize your potential.”
“Will if I can,” Tim whispered.
“They call their priests, Bu-rikai. Which means, strengthened feet.”
“Not a bad idea. Does it boost my Constitution or anything?” Tim asked Dryfu.
“You’ll have to see at your next leveling. You can add the class, but the powerup requires the jewel, or nixstone.”
Tim’s nerves tingled at the anticipation of more Eiyero, addiction rearing its ugly head. That’s not good. Hopefully they’d catch up with the Ferar and he could get a straining.
It’s too late for that, Dryfu relayed silently. You’ve used so much, even immediate straining wouldn’t absolve your blood from the addiction side effects.
What do I do?
What you need to to survive. Most of your group is in the same position. Hopefully you find the jewel and time off of Eiyero will quiet that urge.
Alright. Thanks for the heads up. Dryfu was right. They’d done what they had to to survive. And not every time on Eiyero was intentional. Without the levels gained, he might not be alive to worry about the addiction to the chemical that made the nixstone work.
Thron led the group down the continually barren tunnel, scanning left and right for an ambush. Tim emanated a Danger Sense cloud twenty feet ahead and held it surrounding the group in case something popped out of hiding. His skill was tier two, but not invincible.
The MP cost added up enough that he planned to drop it once they reached the side door Ptol said led to the dungeon. And the second part of their plan: disassemble the drawing rings. Papa Ptol had told his story about choosing to teleport to the rings they keep there. Rings used by the artisans to draw aura from their prisoners, which they lace into Eiyero and their tainted nixstone. The kind the cartel sling to hook the high rollers.
Ptol said as soon as he reached his current level in teleporting, he’d chosen this location because of the magnetic pull by the rings and because he knew it would be empty. Once he was strong enough, he said he would have left, but Tim suspected the prize from killing the Murphy meant he would have tried recruiting help.
“Is the ward going to be easier than just killing it?” Tim asked.
“That beast wants two things: growth and victory. You threaten to shrink it into an enslaved aura potion; I think it’ll take that personally.”
Tim thought of the Michael Jordan scene from his documentary. “Then I’ll just have to take it more… personally.”
At first, it sounded dumb, and unreal. Then the spirit memories churned a fire he knew would burn bright in the face of that beast’s best efforts. It activated a prompt in the air and a shiver down his spine.
Unlocked Priest’s Mission: Cleanse Squire’s Castle and redeem the burdened souls who haunt it.
Additional bonus if you win the jewel for Childockia and sanctify the Murphy vessel inside the Hai Temple.
Where’s that?
In Childockia. Hai’s temple is where Childockian’s take their annual pilgrimage to hear from the Windmaker Tome and offer their thanks after harvest.
Alrighty then. Let’s do it. I got nothing else planned. Er, just the uh, one thing. And also--
Shut up.
Sorry. I could hum instead.