Uchenna paints a grim picture for us as we run. “Dimitiri’s forces mobilized several hours ago. I’ve never seen anything like it. Alarm bells clanging all through town, citizens ordered into an enforced lockdown—and then [Lord] Dimitri’s son staked his claim as the new ruler.”
“New ruler?” I ask, panting from the strain of keeping up with the big man’s long stride. I scowl in confusion. “What happened to [Lord] Dimitri? Didn’t he order the lockdown?”
“Dunno. Looks like a takeover.”
I chew on that thought for a moment. “I didn’t know his son was around. We were never briefed on that before our mission.”
Uchenna grunts noncommittally. “That’s something I’d like to hear more about later. You seem awfully competent for crafters. What in the abyss was that fireball earlier? Your friend just about tore a hole right through Nala. She’s tough as nails, but that was something else.”
When I don’t answer, he falls silent. We hasten toward town, focusing on running down the forest path without tripping over the gnarled roots and uneven stones. Every footfall rattles my head like a drum, beating out a rhythm that condemns me with the same accusations, over and over again: This is all your fault. Following fast on its heels is the next question: Who put you in charge? You don’t know what you’re doing!
I shove the guilt aside and keep moving. I’ll deal with the recriminating thoughts later, once I’ve found Lionel and made sure he’s safe. And then, violence.
“Plan?” Melina asks, her voice slurring.
She’s still groggy from overdrawing so hard to try to let us catch up with Lionel, which means she won’t be much help once we arrive at [Lord] Dimitri’s compound. She still has mana, thanks to the necklace of small glass pseudo cores I made for her, but she’s mentally out of the fight. Pushing her Skill like that is dangerous, as my cracked channels and broken core can attest, though I’m hardly one to chide her.
“Need to catch my breath,” I reply, panting from the long run. My ragged, uneven gasps prompt Uchenna and Mikko to slow down. The two of them could run forever, it seems, but I’m not as physically fit. Something else to work on going forward.
I bend over, my hand on my knees, and brace myself in position while I wait for the world to stop spinning around me. “Not sure what to do. We don’t know what we’re up against. If we can scope things out first, then we’ll have a better chance of coming up with a workable plan.”
Nala nervously slides into the discussion.“Bad idea to go straight to the compound. We should go to the Guard house first, then take an entire squad over to the [Lord]’s palace. Who knows what we’ll find there? You need reinforcements,”
As much as it galls me to take more time, I force myself not to think of it as a waste. Part of me rejects the idea of allowing potential traitors into our midst, but I nod anyway. We have to trust someone. For now. When I’m strong enough, I can act unilaterally.
I’d love to get my bearings, nap for an hour, and formulate a better response before we keep moving, but after only two minutes of steady tactical breathing, I force myself upright and we continue on our way. Every second we delay could mean more pain and suffering for Lionel.
Unless he’s already dead.
Morbid thoughts aside, I fall into step beside Mikko, following Uchenna and Nala back to town. I have no idea how long it takes until the city walls come into view, too wrapped up in the effort required to push forward despite the constant barrage of pain and my traitorous mind.
Mahkaiaraon rises up before, all gleaming white marble. The gaudy opulence seems out of place nestled between two green, curving hills and surrounded by a flourishing forest, but it’s a relief to see civilization again. Tolling bells still echo across the valley in a stern pattern—that must be the alarm Uchenna mentioned.
A pair of armored men hail us as we draw near to the gates, which sit at the top of a long switchback ramp. The sturdy stones and aggressive angle of the approach speak of a functional fortress, forcing potential enemies to fight uphill. While not as big or as impressive as the massive gilt river gates of Grand Ile, they’re certainly strong and easy to defend. An opposing army couldn’t bring their full numbers to bear, reduced to struggling through choke points and dealing with the zigzagging path and steep slope.
Above us, the guard on the left holds his helmet in the crook of his hands, showing off a young but craggy face. His blond locks drift in the breeze, stained dark crimson. There’s blood on his visor, and it looks recent enough that it hasn’t yet faded to a dull brown, although his armor is unscratched and he looks too bored to have sustained serious injury.
Beside him, only coming up to his shoulders, is an older man with dusky skin and heavy plate armor. He may be a touch below average height, but his frame is packed dense with muscle to the point he rivals Mikko in bulk. He stares us down with his piercing gaze. His straight back, neat uniform, and close-cropped white hair tell of a former [Soldier].
Uchenna lifts his hand in greeting. He hurries us up the winding ramp and leads the group over to the taller man, concern etched on his face. “Cai! What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen fighting.”
Cai nods, self-consciously rubbing at the splotch of still-drying blood splattered on his helmet. “Ambush. Dimitri’s son made his move at last. Devrim pulled me out before they could finish things.”
Uchenna winces. “Anything left of them?”
“Burial is for good men,” Devrim growls. A dark nimbus of destruction swells behind him, and in that instant he transforms from a grandfatherly figure to a predator on the prowl. “Scum like Nikolai’s ilk deserve to be devoured.”
Something about the way he emphasizes devoured makes me shiver. I peer at Devrim more intently, briefly tapping into [Arcane Domain: My Eyes Shall Pierce the Veil], and confirm my suspicion. He has an unknown set of runes braided together, twisted into a ferocious shape with elements of fire, as well as dark, warped runes I don’t understand—they share similarities with a few spatial runes I’ve seen, but I can’t place them. I file that structure away for future review; I’ll bet there’s a qualitative boost to braiding.
The Skill itself is menacing, radiating danger, and I’m almost certain that it’s the source of the dark nimbus I’ve seen around Ember and a select few other [Soldiers]. He’s a former elite, I’m certain of it. [Devour] must be the name of the ability. I shudder, queasy just looking at the strange structure. I’ll bet it burns and consumes until there’s nothing left of its victims.
“Where can we help, sir?” Nala asks, saluting and then returning to attention. She’s still acting subdued from her brush with death, but no longer shrinking in fear.
Devrim spits to the side. “The [Magistrate] barricaded himself in the town hall. Nikolai’s men have him hemmed in. I told the guards to come up with a battle plan. Now that you’re back, we’ll gather together anyone loyal to Mahkaiaraon. With an entire squad, we ought to be able to break through the blockade of Dimitri’s men laying siege to the town hall.”
I bristle. “We don’t have time for this. Who knows what’s happening to Lionel right now. I can’t help with a blockade while my friend’s in danger.”
“No one asked you,” Devrim rasps.
Mikko places a strong hand on my shoulder and gives me a warning look. He clears his throat. “Could you still take us to the manor house, Nala? Uchenna? We need a guide, if you’re still up for it.”
Devrim scoffs, continuing his trend of acting like the ugly end of an ill-begotten donkey, as Ember once put it—though her words were far less delicate than mine. Their commander gets in Mikko’s face. “Not a chance. We need them. Go play hero on your own time.”
I turn toward Devrim, matching his icy glare, and lift my chin. “Fine. Point us toward Dimitri, and we’ll be on our way.”
He grunts. “Nah. Don’t like you.”
“C’mon, Nuri. We can find our own way,” Avelina says, striding toward the gate with a toss of her braids.
As we move to follow her, Cai and Devrim close ranks. The older, stouter man slams his fists together, and with an oppressive swirl of mana, the heavy doors behind him smack shut in mimicry of his hand movements. It’s a powerful, abrupt Skill that reminds me we’re facing an actual [Guard], not simply a hired hand playing at patrol.
“Gate’s locked. Find a different way in. Or don’t. But get out of our way,” Devrim says, his tone promising violence if we argue.
“They promised,” I reply, working hard to keep my voice calm and friendly as I gesture toward the two guards beside me. “We need them to help us find our friend who was taken. Two people aren’t going to make a difference in your mission.”
“They’re my guards, not your personal guides,” Devrim spits out. “Battle’s coming. Your friend can wait—this can’t.”
Sparks hiss and snarl around Avelina’s head as her anger rises and her control over her magic slips. “You don’t know that. They might be torturing him right now. If your little war games were so important, why were you standing around with your hands in your pockets waiting for us to show up?”
Devrim crosses his arms and doesn’t reply for a long moment, staring down Avelina. For once, she backs off, clearly unnerved by what she sees in his gaze. At last he grunts. “We didn’t wanna leave Nala and Uchenna out. They’ve earned their place. My mistake; I won’t waste any more time.”
“With respect, Devrim, we promised to escort Nuri and his team to [Lord]’s Dimitri’s new compound. His friend was taken there,” Nala says, saluting again for good measure.
“Not a chance,” Devrim breaks in, his tone thick with derision. “They’re strangers. Don’t trust ‘em. Better to lock the lot of them up at the guard house and then join us. We need you.”
“I trust them,” Nala says, standing her ground despite Devrim’s glower. She doesn’t shift an inch, and I’m glad to see her finding her backbone again. “We gave our word that we’d help. Don’t plan to go back on it now. As you said, we’re wasting time.”
“Peh. Fine. Then bring them with us, and let’s make this quick. They best prove their worth, although I’m not expecting much from a bunch of kids,” Devrim says, looking us over with a dismissive sniff. “They look too green to be helpful. Can’t believe the [Magistrate] hired them.”
I shove past Nala, grinding my teeth at the blatant disrespect after we risked our lives to end the threat of the little local tyrant. “You look like you served a while back. Know [General] Tychicus? How about his [Spear Commander], Nicanor? They gave us this mission. Or how about Casella and his scouting partner, Mbukhe, from the Army’s Inquisitor branch?”
Devrim’s eyes grow even colder. He looks me over again, his gaze lingering on my missing hand. “Don’t even think about making claims you can’t back up, kid. Got too much respect for the old guard to let that go.”
“They’re my mentors, and they commissioned me for this job,” I say, stretching the truth a bit. “So if those names mean anything to you, then you’ll let us inside. Avelina can break a blockade with a single spell. Then, you can repay the debt and help us afterward.”
Melina shimmies down from Mikko’s shoulder, sliding off and stumbling on the ground before she regains her balance. She rubs her forehead with her fingertips, grimacing. “Don’t forget about Rakesh. He’s a target, too.”
“Fear not,” Devrim says, holding up a callused, sinewy hand, although a vein on his forehead is throbbing now. “We sent a pair of [Guards] to your inn to retrieve your friend.”
I frown. “Thought you didn’t trust us.”
He smirks back at me. “I don’t. Still, it’s best to keep people close. If you’re on our side, then we did our duty. If you’re with the enemy, well, then we’ve got a hostage.”
My breath trembles. Blood pounds in my temples. Fires of vengeance erupt in my heart, blazing like a volcano. “If you touch him, then I’ll tear out your—”
Mikko places a restraining hand on my shoulder again, interrupting my snarls. “Nuri. We’re all on edge. Don’t make things worse. We can work with them and prove our intentions. Better that Rakesh is accounted for than abducted like Lionel.”
My brother’s words get through, and I step back, resisting the urge to claim the nearby mana with my [Arcane Domain] and unleash a storm of sharpness on Devrim. My thoughts slowly clear as I clench and unclench my fist, breathing through my nose in a steady rhythm until I get my bearings again. Devrim is only being prudent. Did the enchantment on the Rift core really warp my perspective so hard?
“Is he safe from the fighting?” I finally ask in more moderate tones, my mind reeling as I try to process everything. The details are fuzzy, but I know something’s not right with me. “He’s not a combatant.”
Cai exchanges glances with Devrim. The tall guard looks back at me and grimaces. “No idea. We left right after the ambush to wait here for Uchenna and Nala. Figured they’d need a friendly face when they got back from looking for you.”
“You mean, you wanted to reinforce them in case you deemed us a threat,” I snap back, not in the mood to dance around the issue anymore, even though I’m trying to play nice.
Well, nicer.
“What would you do if we swapped places? Allow your friends to be outnumbered? Or, would you watch over them?” Devrim asks, his voice deceptively mild. From the way his mana is swirling, I can tell that the calm is a thin façade. He’s just as ready for a fight as I am, maybe more, and that means I need to get hold of myself before things escalate.
“I’d probably do the same thing,” I admit at length, shifting uncomfortably. We don’t have any more time to squander on posturing. “Fair enough. We’ll put this behind us and get to work. We’re just breaking the barricade at the city hall, right? Nothing more dangerous?”
Cai unlocks the gates—physically, I notice, which makes me think Devrim’s Skill isn’t a standard issue—and beckons us into the city. He sets off at a brisk jog, and we follow him toward the city hall. I notice that he isn’t answering my question, so I repeat myself to Devrim, hoping for a straight answer.
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“If that excuse for rotting fish guts called in favors, then he’ll have a [Battle Mage] on his side,” Devrim answers, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. “Could be difficult. I’ve not tested my mettle in far too long.”
“That’s . . . not encouraging,” Mikko says, his low voice rumbling and drawing everyone’s attention. “We are not equipped for a war.”
“You’re not, but I am,” Avelina says, sounding oddly serious. She twirls her glass wand in her hands. “I’ll bet I can break apart a barrier from a full [Battle Mage] with an empowered shot, just like Nuri said.”
Devrim turns to look her over, a frown on his face, but Nala lifts a hand and shakes her head. The grizzled old [Guard] raises his eyebrows, seeming to reconsider Avelina. When he speaks, his tone is solemn. “If you can really do it, then aim to kill. Hear me? If you don’t end the [Mage] with your opening strike, then run as fast as you can. You won’t get another shot.”
“I thought you wanted to test your mettle?” I say, looking at him askance. We’re drawing nearer to the central district , and I want to know what we’re up against ahead of time. “Now you want us to do your dirty work for you? Was this your plan all along? Act antagonistic and refuse to help us until we did something for you?”
“Subtly ain’t my style,” Devrim growls.
“Seem to take to it naturally,” I reply. “What gives? Why the change of mind? Didn’t take you for a coward.”
Devrim’s face twists in distaste. “That was the ambition of youth speaking. I regretted my words as soon as I made my boast. I’m old and more fragile than I used to be. Better to remove a threat ahead of time than take a chance on a fight that could go sour.”
“I hope I’m as fragile as you are when I’m old,” I say as a peace offering, giving our reluctant ally a strained smile. I nod down, toward my missing hand. “But I seem to be off to a poor start.”
“Nuri. Now’s not the time,” Melina says, still leaning on Mikko’s arm for support. “Avelina might have to kill someone, and you’re treating this like a big joke.”
“We made our decision when we saw what Dimitri was doing in that Rift. Don’t bring up ethics. This is no different from putting down a dangerous monster,” I reply, more harshly than I intend.
Devrim’s gaze locks onto me. He whistles between his front teeth. “Rumors were true? Huh. The broken down Old Keep was hiding a Rift after all. By the abyss! Should have checked that one myself.”
“You’ll get a full report once Casella and Mbukhe arrive. Rakesh has the communication construct right now. We’ll definitely bring them out for analysis.”
“Better not be lying about knowing Casella. That old codger doesn’t put up with fools. I should know,” Devrim says, the last bit added as a quiet afterthought.
I nod slowly, no longer bothered by the skepticism. Then I take a risk and murmur, “The sun rises in darkness.”
Devrim startles as though stung by a bee, but soon masters his shock. His demeanor shifts subtly toward approval. “Nuri, is it? We’ll talk after. Let’s break this barricade for now.”
=+=
“There, in the corner by the empty vendor stalls. Leave it to a [Mage] to hide like a beaten dog while the others do the dirty work.” Nala’s cousin, Benaiah the [Hawkeye Scout], works as a spotter and freelance investigator for the city guards, and he shares her blunt mannerisms.
Benaiah leans over and spits off the side of the roof. “Glad they showed their true colors. No guilt taking ‘em out.”
Instead of cutting across the city square to challenge Nikolai and his troops, we met up with a squad of guards under Devrim’s command and looped around to the other side of the city. Now, we’re up on the rooftop of a set of tenements. They stand at a right angle to the city hall and block the sightlines, ensuring that we won’t give away our approach. We find ourselves back in a familiar position, scoping out a potential fight through a hand-held looking glass.
Thankfully, most of the citizens complied with the announcements and hid away due to the alarm bells, so we were able to proceed to our location unimpeded. We won’t have much to worry about in regard to collateral damage, which is the only reason Avelina seems comfortable unleashing so much violence in a populated area.
“Pretty far, Ava. Good for that shot?” I ask, leaving her with an out in case she’s not sure it’s a good idea. It’s nearly a hundred paces to our target, and the ramshackle stalls from street vendors are stacked up into a makeshift barrier, preventing us from getting a clear view of our target.
She shrugs, though lying prone on a rooftop shortens the movement into a little wiggle of her shoulders. “The closer I am, the less chance the [Mage] has to react, but I don’t think the fire bolt will lose coherence at this distance. Should still be strong enough—but don’t forget that I’m completely out of shots after that. Already used the wand earlier, like an idiot. Shoulda saved it for an actual fight.”
“I’m more concerned about reprisal in case we fail,” Melina interjects. She’s still holding her head, and I doubt she’s going to cast any more magic today after overdrawing so viciously earlier, but her eyes look sharp and clear again.
“Leave that to us,” Devrim says. “We’ll get you out of the way, and we have enchanted shields in case of injury. Besides, the vanguard will take the brunt of the fighting.”
I breathe a sigh of relief now that Melina is contributing to plans again. I may be the leader, but that doesn’t mean I know everything. We could use her counsel, and if she’s feeling up to speaking her mind, then she must be recovering.
“Not worried about Mikko,” Melina says, smiling weakly. “He can handle the worst of it far better than we can.”
“Your sister will be fine,” I say, patting Melina on her shoulder. “We have to get in position and be ready to support the assault teams. You should sit this one out.”
Melina purses her lips, but doesn’t argue. She looks too exhausted for that. Then a thin, fragile smile spreads across her face. “I’m worried about Ava. You’re asking her to kill someone, Nuri. But I think I have a plan to help.”
“Heard that!” Avelina says, despite Melina lowering her voice. “You know I can think for myself, right? I’m with Nuri. These guards and [Mages] might not know exactly what’s going on in that Rift, but they can use their own two eyes to see what’s happening here in Mahkaiaraon. If they don’t have a problem with ambushing their own guards in the streets, then I don’t see why it’s on me to mourn when I blast ‘em.”
Melina sighs. “I’ll mourn on your behalf, sister. Just listen to me, will you?” She presses on, leaving us no time to object. “Why don’t we send Nuri to talk with them first? If any of their contracted [Soldiers] have a conscience, perhaps they’ll listen to reason.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You want me to walk out there, completely exposed, and hope they don’t blast me as soon as I show up? Sounds unrealistic.”
“A single person approaching the barrier shouldn’t set them on edge. Just go talk with them. If they react violently, we’ll go back to Ava’s fire bolt. But, Nuri, we have to at least try to do it this way. We’re not killers.”
“I don’t want to get burned!” I splutter. “What in the abyss would make me want to walk right out in the open? Do I look like a platter of raw meat? Hey, don’t answer that, Mikko.”
“Never crossed my mind.”
I try to glare, but my brother’s serene tone makes me laugh despite myself. “I’ll let it go this time, but I still hate the plan.”
“Take my glass cores, Nuri. You must be just about out by now.” Melina sets down her glass cores just far enough away that it doesn’t cause any resonance troubles—I’d rather not explode, thank you very much—and shimmies back from the edge of the roof. “You won’t burn if you shield yourself with your [Greater Heat Manipulation], but they won’t expect us to attack if you’re standing right there.”
“Ooh! Devious,” Avelina says, rubbing her palms together. “I’m in. Do it, Nuri. Do it!”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Melina says softly. She slides down a ladder canted up against the stucco side of the building, disappearing from view.
I hand my depleted glass pseudo cores to Avelina for safekeeping and crawl over to the glass cores that contain more mana. Melina hasn’t naturalized the mana within them yet, so the energy contained inside is available for me to use. If I had a more convenient way of carrying extra cores, maybe I could double or triple my mana “pool” available for use. I file that away as an intriguing idea for later.
Devrim coughs lightly to break me out of my thoughts. He points toward the cluster of [Lord] Dimitri’s guards once he’s sure he has my attention. “Can’t quite tell how many are under the aegis of the [Battle Mage]. Fighting will get hot when we break through.”
My fingers tighten around the glass beads I imbued for Melina, drawing energy from the pseudo cores. My [Arcane Domain] unfurls, but I hold back from simply sweeping it across their position in case their [Mage] can sense my presence. Instead, I probe gently around the edges of the formation, taking extra care to view the area obscured from Benaiah’s vision.
While my Domain doesn’t provide me with textures, colors, scents, or auditory feedback, it’s sensitive enough to map out the people besieging the city hall. They’re covering the exits, as far as I can tell, spread out into three distinct groups: a small group on the side door, a slightly larger group by the rear of the imposing building, and our target—the largest cluster of people, all arrayed by the front entrance.
“I sense eighteen out front,” I report after a moment. “More around the back and sides, but they likely won’t leave their posts for fear that the [Magistrate] will escape. You confident that you have enough firepower to overcome those odds?”
“Impressive,” Devrim grunts. He eyes me again with a more assessing gaze. Maybe he’s finally willing to believe me about my contacts within the [Inquisitors]. “Ready when you are. We have enough people in place if you do your part.”
I nod. “On it. Either they’ll capitulate, or Ava will put on a firework show like you’ve never seen before.”
“Looking forward to it,” Devrim answers. There’s something vicious and sharp-edged about his smile that makes me squirm, but I’m committed now. No going back.
=+=
My stomach twists into a knot as I approach Nikolai’s band of [Mercenaries]. The plan seemed so solid when Melina first mentioned it, but now I can’t help but think about all the terrible ways they could kill me. Unless they use a fireball, or some other heat-adjacent attack, then I have no way to defend myself.
My rebellious feet threaten to turn around, but my mind is made up. My path is set. I will not waver. Halfway across the road, their sentries catch sight of me and yell for me to stop. Everything in me screams to listen to them, but I hold up my hand and smile as I keep moving. If I stop walking, then I’m afraid I won’t find the courage to start up again.
“Halt!” a voice roars.
“I’ve come to parlay!” I shout.
Through the arcane eye of my Domain, I sense frantic, agitated wisps of mana flit back and forth between the [Mercenaries]. Some sort of communication Skill? I guess. Beyond them, a surge of mana lights up in my senses—a bonfire compared with the flickering candles of the others. It’s enough to warp my vision, forcing me to cut my Skill. That must be the [Battle Mage].
“What am I doing?” I murmur under my breath. This is a military zone. I’m up against a foe too powerful for me. If they don’t want to talk, then I’m a dead man walking. Too late now. I’m in it to the end.
Four men dart out from behind the wall they’ve erected, moving in twin pairs to flank me. They advance with leveled spears, and I keep as relaxed and non-aggressive as possible, not wanting to give them an excuse to skewer me.
Rough hands grip my biceps, hauling me off my feet. Their faces are set like flint. They don’t care about treating me gently, and I’m already sure our diplomacy has failed. They dash back to their hiding spot with me, dragging me over the edge of the barricade.
My right thigh twists beneath me and scrapes across the jumble of broken wooden stalls that are propped up to provide them cover. I hiss, clamping my mouth shut so I don’t cry out. My knee bangs against a pillar, and this time I let out a cry of pain.
The hooded [Battle Mage] points to a stool, and they throw me down hard enough that my teeth rattle against each other when I hit the seat.
The ominous spellcaster looms over me, face hidden behind a veil. When the [Battle Mage] speaks, the voice is distorted, giving away no clues. “Don’t take kindly to spies. You picked the wrong group to try to infiltrate.”
Light ‘em up, Ava! I urge her silently. These aren’t misguided guards or browbeaten servants; these are hardened killers, through and through.
“Not a spy,” I say, proud of how steady my voice sounds despite the fear writhing in my gut. “I’m here with an offer of protection if you surrender.”
Harsh laughter greets my proclamation. “Surrender? You’re in no position to bargain.”
I stare up at the dark void where the [Mage]’s face should be, refusing to allow myself to appear daunted. I speak louder, projecting more confidence than I feel. “Lay down your arms, and we’ll let you live.”
“Mercy is for the weak,” the [Battle Mage] spits. A murky, pulsating sphere gathers above the mage’s head. My entire body revolts at the thought of letting the rancid power touch me.
My [Arcane Domain] spools out, seeking my team on the rooftops. I can’t send them any words or impressions through the Skill yet, but I crash against Avelina’s core with my Domain, hoping that the discomfort is enough to signal her to attack.
As I hoped, mana blazes within her, pumping from her core, through her channels, and into the glass wand. Even at this distance, I can’t miss the blooming flower of intense energy, far greater than Avelina should be able to produce with a crafting class; no wonder she’s drained after one or two uses.
It’s too potent to go unnoticed, and the [Battle Mage] whirls around, pinpointing Avelina’s position. The dark sphere condenses, and a spike of fear shoots through me as the [Battle Mage] switches targets.
I draw deeply on the borrowed glass cores, pouring mana into my [Arcane Domain], and shove against the [Battle Mage], trying to disrupt the casting through brute force. There’s no art or nuance to my attempt, no real understanding of what I’m doing, but it’s enough to destabilize the attack for a moment.
From across the city square, Avelina’s energy floods into the glass wand in a torrent like a raging river. The massive flow funnels down into a highly compressed beam when it hits the mana circuitry. Reflexively, I squint against the blaze, even though it does nothing to dim my spiritual sight. The surge of power is amplified even further by the crystal we fastened to the end of the wand, spiking the temperature on the rooftop to dangerous degrees, according to my [Greater Heat Manipulation].
When Avelina used the glass wand earlier, I was still too nervous about over-reliance on my Domain to watch. This is the first time I’ve really observed the entire process unfold via the eerie sight provided by my [Arcane Domain]. She channels her two strongest fire-related Skills, [Command: Cinder and Spark], and [Adjuration of the Phoenix], using up the last of her mana to overcharge the wand.
My skin is prickling due to the furious crackling of energy all around me—from the [Battle Mage], from Avelina, from the glass cores as I push them to their capacity. It’s hard to breathe. I shield myself, preemptively drawing heat from the air around me, though I have only a second or two by the time Avelina unleashes the full force of her firepower. The fiery missile hurtles across the city square, far faster than her previous iterations, and I let out a gasp at the intensity of the flames.
Before I can blink, the attack hits.
The thrum of the explosion makes my ears pop. My vision flashes white as I go flying off the stool and crash into a board, cracking it in half. I squeeze my eyes shut, grab hold of the edge of the torn-apart wooden wall, and pray that the world will stop spinning soon. By degrees, my sight and hearing return, although I can’t shake the ringing in my ears. Despite flaring my [Greater Heat Manipulation] as strongly as I ever have, my skin feels blistered, like I’ve been cooked alive, stinging and itching all at once.
Devastation meets my sight as I sit up and survey the carnage. Of the eighteen original [Mercenaries] I counted, only three have survived the impact. I doubt they’re long for this world. The creepy [Battle Mage] doesn’t appear to be among the living, based on the weak, fluctuating mana signatures of the survivors. A smoking crater is all that’s left of the hastily-erected barrier of torn-down food stalls, and already Devrim’s men are closing the gap, charging in with weapons drawn. The battle’s begun in earnest. No turning back now.
The buzzing in my ears won’t stop. I squeeze my eyes shut and slump over, huddling up on the ground while I wait for my team to come rescue me. Although I can barely see or hear, I track them through my [Arcane Domain], and I sit up a few minutes later as they approach.
“Thanks for saving me,” I croak out. My throat is parched and swollen all at once, and I gesture toward the canteen at Avelina’s side. She hands it over, and I drink it down greedily to soothe my aches. The more I pull the heat away from me, the less my body hurts.
A strangely hollow grin twists Avelina’s features. “Fire is always a pleasure, Nuri. ‘Sides, I couldn’t let them hurt our leader.”
I let out a long, slow breath. “Good shot, Ava. Rest up with your sister; we’ll finish the job and go get Lionel.”
Her smile crumbles. She nods numbly, her face ashen under her usual glow of vitality. Guilt gnaws at me as she retreats, scurrying away from the fighting, but we’ll have to deal with that later, assuming we survive the coming showdown with Dimitri.
Devrim inclines his head in respect. To his credit, he waited patiently until I spoke with Avelina before insisting that we need to return to the task at hand. Coordinating with Devrim, who has an intriguing [Officer] Skill that allows him to guide his troops from afar, I scan the battlefield with my [Arcane Domain], alerting him to threats and directing the guards against the few [Mercenaries] still fighting. We don’t meet much resistance, not after their [Battle Mage] died to our alpha strike, and soon Nikolai’s men have surrendered.
I flop back against the remains of the shattered wooden barrier, releasing my hold on my Domain Skill. A pounding headache hits me, threatening to incapacitate me for the rest of the day, but I clench my jaw and force myself to focus on what comes next.
Our checklist is on track. We’ve rescued the [Magistrate] from Nikolai, who’s nowhere to be found. Now, it’s time to head back to the guard house to meet up with Rakesh and report on what we found in the Rift. I’m counting on him to help us call in the news to the [Inquisitors], try to re-establish a link to Lionel with his [Echo of the Songbird] communication Skill, and come up with a plan with Melina. Then we need to confront [Lord] Dimitri, settle the disputes, and restore relative peace and safety back to the region.
As important as all of that is, however, it pales compared with the next entry on the to-do list: Above everything else, what truly matters is that we rescue Lionel.