After retrieving the shotgun and a handgun for Case from the groaning officers, they trekked out the door and turned towards the girl with the fire powers.
Case broke the silence with a yell, “Buzz off! There’s nothing for you here!”
Now that they were closer and they could see her through the predawn dark, the girl was dirty blonde, looked about fourteen, and was still wearing her pajamas. Her eyes were crazed, clearly power tripping.
She cackled, “Hahahaha! Nobody can face me! I’ve got magic! Turn over your valuables and I’ll spare you!”
John called back, “And if we don’t?”
“Then you’ll fry!” With that, she punched towards them, launching two huge plumes of flaming mana that scorched the trees on the street. Case was quick with his response, throwing out a plane of mana that sloped up, easily deflecting the flames. The duo walked forward towards the girl, surprise evident on her face.
“What? Do you have magic too? Well, I bet mine’s better!”
She put both hands together and pointed them towards John and Case. A torrent of mana struck out, trying to melt through Case’s barrier. The air temperature increased dramatically, and the asphalt below their feet turned tacky as it started to liquify. The officers’ patrol car seemed just out of reach, though the paint might have bubbled a little.
Case shouted, strained and sweating, “John, if you’re going to do something, do it now!”
John decided to try and use his mana for harm, because Everett had been able to rebuff his attempts to control his body directly. After the girl’s second attack petered out, he stepped out from behind Case’s barrier and slashed his hand in the girl’s direction while focusing on rousing the mana in his body. A large fraction of his remaining mana shot out and moved like a whip, reaching the twenty feet or so between John and the girl and slashing across her torso and upper arms. She failed to dodge or put up more resistance than a feeble puff of mana, and a large, bleeding cut appeared. She began to scream and charged at them, two large fireballs forming in her hands.
The girl screeched like a toddler with a tantrum, “No, this is my dream! I shouldn’t get hurt!”
That surprised John. Does this girl think she was in a dream? He supposed it had not been that long since the voice had awoken them all, so maybe she did.
To John’s further astonishment, his mana flowed back to him like a rope on a winch. The attack lost some energy to the girl’s defense and through contact with her body, but approximately seventy percent of the whip went back into his body. This was good, he needed a solution to stop her without killing her. Gambling on being able to regenerate any damage, he charged again. He preemptively forced mana into his body to try and jump start the healing effect and was surprised to find himself running faster. The mana was going into his muscles and making them operate faster and stronger, but he was losing mana like crazy. It was well worth it as he shot forward faster than he had ever sprinted before. He would run out by the end of this fight, but hopefully he would have time to recover.
With a grunt and a yell, he arrived in front of the girl far faster than either of them expected, and he tackled her. Her fireballs dispersed, and the tumbling pair crashed to the ground. She cracked her head on the asphalt, went limp, and started whimpering dully. The asphalt scraped John’s arms up, but the mana in his system healed his skin nearly as fast as it was damaged. He was unsure if he could selectively heal the girl’s chest wound, but he saw small sparks of her fire mana in the gash, and it had stopped bleeding already. He decided to leave it alone for now.
John stood up and called out to Case, “Let’s haul her over to the boulder then go check on those officers.” John hoisted the girl instead of dragging her like Everett, she had seemed fairly out of it while fighting them and he did not want to punish her for malice that wasn’t there. Thinking about it further, he was relieved that they had not needed the guns. John was not confident about healing someone else’s gunshot wound. It cost me nearly as much mana and a lot more effort to heal Mr. Kenderson’s burns as I needed to heal my heart.
Case walked up, “Did she say what I thought she said? There’s no way she thought it was a dream.”
John shrugged, “I don't know, it really didn’t seem like she was worried about getting hurt. I’m also not about to rough up a kid. Let’s just stick her in the rock and move on. I’m really concerned about those officers. We’ll have to hope your dad calms them down before we get back.”
“Ok, fair point. Put her on the rock, I’ll do my thing.”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Everett glared at them as they approached but said nothing. John laid the girl on the other side of the boulder, and Case put her in the same bands and covered her hands. She was still out cold, but John did not feel like wasting what little mana he had left on waking her up. The police could handle her after they assembled an organized response.
-----------------INTERLUDE-----------------
Provost Shu-Krodas watched the world beneath him rotate through his office’s viewing pane. The biosphere had a ruddy, mottled cast, hewn for a harsher star than the sun his people evolved under. The oceans were a dull orange, the soil a startlingly deep black, and the weather violent. The lights of settlement craft flitted around the surface and through the atmosphere, a new outpost slowly growing on an uninhabited world.
He turned to a display of the local system. Motes of light mana displayed the outline of the Stellar Reach Academy, a cylinder in geosynchronous orbit of the sphere below, alongside the colonizing fleet. Reaching out with a sinuous three-fingered hand, he focused on several ships to issue orders. The Provost had lots on his plate. The imperial decree to establish a colony on this world fell solely on his shoulders, and even with the accompanying writ of authority, marshaling the various companies, sects, and clans needed to establish a foothold on such a hostile ball was difficult. The costs of fighting off wild, magical beasts alone would have bankrupted the Academy if he had lacked imperial backing.
As he wrapped up the work orders and sent them, his display shifted to an actinic crimson and alarms blared. Swearing, the Provost activated the long-range display. Runes wavered then displayed the readout. There was a massive surge of mana racing across the system, a tsunami of power propagating through the system near light speed. The cheap satellites limiting the fleet to lightspeed communications meant they had only a few minutes of warning.
Immediately, he ordered the fleet to move into the shadows of the local moons. Such a formless mass of power would not endanger any lives, but it could damage the ships and repairs would eat up valuable time. Evasive maneuvers now would save time in the long term. Ships huddled behind moons, and smaller craft grounded themselves, safe in the planet’s magnetic field.
The Academy itself stayed in place. The architects designed it to weather events like this and exploit them with devices in place to soak up excess mana. The Provost merely ordered delicate sensor systems shuttered or retracted, and the Academy was ready.
Now, to figure out what had caused the surge. Haver sent messages along tendrils of his fiery mana to various departments of the Academy, ordering them to prepare to analyze the surge as it passed through. As for his own efforts, he prepared to activate his gathering arrays, hoping to exploit as much of the ambient power as possible. The surge of mana would be an ideal opportunity to reinforce his engine core, preparing it for his attempt to break through to the next stage.
As Haver was about to seal his chambers, space tore next to him and an armored figure stepped through a jagged fissure in the air. Leaping backwards, bright red mana surged from his core, flashing through his body as he prepared to immolate the interloper. The figure snorted, then waved a medallion bearing a complicated, ornate seal. Haver’s mana froze in his veins, like the armored man was an ocean threatening to crush him. He blanched, recalled his mana, and levered into a deep bow. He had threatened an imperial, one with a mana engine strong enough to breach spatial layers! He began to sweat and gave a stammering apology, but the armored figure raised a hand to forestall him.
“Calm, Provost. I came representing the Imperial Clan. Thirty-second Prince Shul Y-Asvra, at your service,” said Prince Shul as he removed his helm, revealing the distinctive three horns of the Asvra Imperial Clan.
“My Prince, how may I be of assistance?” Provost Haver didn’t move from his bow but did move his eyes upward to gauge the Prince’s emotions.
“Stand up. It’s alright. I should have sent a message before I arrived, but this is too urgent. You have orders,” Prince Shul grinned, positively giddy at the news.
“What is it, sire?” Haver’s mind raced while he straightened, trying to correlate possibilities.
“That incoming surge is the mana eruption from a new dimension being baptized in mana and welcomed to the broader universe. You are to go to this region and investigate the people there. Ingratiate them to the Empire with training and guidance. You are not going as a conqueror. The seers suggest it will be too expensive to influence the area’s trajectory as the Lower Dimensions move it. My Imperial Father has decided to let other factions squabble for dominance. Instead, we will extend trade and recruitment opportunities towards those who do come as conquerors, along with the nascent powers of the region. In three years, you will go with a small retinue, not your whole Academy. Am I clear?”
“Of course, sire. I will serve the Empire with honor. I will leave the Academy here to finish integrating this world.” Provost Haver bowed once more, vibrating with anticipation. Fresh dimensions were often incredible opportunities. Maybe not for him, but for his disciples? The prince hadn’t specified no violence, just to “prepare them.” Who would care if his disciples used those new mages as sparring partners to train in the lush environment of a recently baptized dimension? If the empire didn’t attempt to establish permanent holdings, it should be above-board.
Prince Shul handed an information packet to the Provost before he slipped through space once more, heading back for the heart of the Empire. He itched to fight for territory himself, but his father’s seers were right. The new region would be taken into a maelstrom of warring factions, and the Empire could not sustain an outpost deep in unallied territory, nor could they shoulder the cost of influencing the Cosmic Rivers right now. He almost felt bad for the nascent civilizations, but such was the way of the world. The law of the jungle held sway in most regions. Perhaps they would get lucky enough to defend themselves and add stability to their new cosmic neighborhood. The Provost would help them, and that was the last he thought of the matter.