Immovable Mage

– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 215, Season of the Rising Moon, Day 23 –

A haunt floated towards Terry…

Terry was about to dodge when Dargones grabbed the haunt and crushed the ethereal creature in his fist. The casualness of the action left the boy from Arcana dumbstruck.

As soon as the death specter came closer, Dargones unleashed an aspected discharge.

In Terry’s mana sight, it looked as if the discharge was swallowing all mana in its path – including the death specter, which faded into nothingness upon contact.

A mage’s worst nightmare.

Earlier, Terry had seen a death spear hit Dargones. It had dispersed harmlessly like a puff of smoke.

Even more shocking was that Terry could see mana being erased everywhere around Dargones, and the radius increased whenever the man burst his mana.

I wonder what that does to mana-crafted items…

Terry subconsciously grabbed his left forearm with his right hand and took a step back. In the distance, he could see flashes of white appear. A white panther with purple markings stalked the shadows and preyed on shade after shade.

*BAM!*

Terry’s eyes wandered towards the sky above the main battlefield again. The battle had already raged for some time, and his aunt seemed to be the chief opponent of the giant centipede. Terry clenched his fists whenever he saw the golden hammer head appear. Part of it was excitement. The rest was anxiety over finally getting an answer to the question he had asked in the letter.

Please, let them all be okay.

Terry glanced back at Ying, who continued to cast spell after spell on Lizzy while observing her vital signs. Next to him, Dargones narrowed his eyes towards the black sand on the other side of the Bulwark. He nodded slightly to himself and then lost interest again.

A flicker caught Terry’s eye.

Am I seeing things?

On the black sand, there appeared to be a dancing light. It looked as if a shiny surface reflected the evening sunlight, only to disappear and then reappear in another location.

What is tha—?

“Uah!” uttered Terry and stumbled backward. While he had been trying to follow the flickering light, a bright light had appeared directly in front of him. The light faded away to reveal a person.

“Oy, what happened to Ol’ Lizbeth?” asked Varnika and then demanded from Ying: “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Spirit poisoning,” replied Ying without taking his eyes off Lizzy. “She is over the worst of it. I’m Ying.”

“Varnika.” She puckered her lips. “Are there other allied deathfolk I need to look out for? I can’t cast Sanctuary with you around.”

“About that…” Ying informed her about the allies from Syn.

Varnika grimaced. “That complicates things.”

*BAM!*

“Oy, who managed to invite the Divine Hammer?! Nice!” Varnika moved her eyes away from Lizzy. “Wait, is that the Magebane? Hey, handsome!” She walked over.

Dargones glanced at her and nodded.

[Hey, handsome!] Varnika had raised her hand and formed mana into runic shapes.

To Terry’s surprise, he could perceive the meaning. It freaked him out until he remembered a particular trait of rune inscriptions in mana crafting.

An inscribed item suggests its own use. Same principle?

“Neat,” mumbled Terry to himself.

Without sparing another look for Varnika, Dargones raised his hand. [The situation up here is under control. The fight is down there.]

“Hmph,” grumbled Varnika. “Such a pity.”

Amelia flew up high in the air and rained down fire on the horde while engaging dozens of death mages and constantly erasing their spellwork.

Varnika disappeared with a bright light and then reappeared a moment later. Terry recognized the spell structure of Blink.

“Too much turmoil for my style,” complained Varnika.

Varnika raised both of her hands with palms pointing towards the desert of black sand. Next, she emitted rhythmic flashes of light from them. This way, Varnika signaled to any possible approaching Wasteguards.

“The first mobile combat support units should be here soon,” said Varnika. “If they don’t get an early warning about you Synsies, shit things may happen.”

“Have there been any breaches?” asked Varnika.

“Only a few,” replied Ying. “Already taken care of.”

“How is Lizbeth’s spirit? Are the spirit-aspected variants still required?”

“You a healer?”

“You a battle mage with a penchant for crowded fights?” Varnika raised her eyebrows twice in quick succession.

“Works for me. By my estimate, roughly a dozen more rounds. Then we can switch.”

“Sounds good. Otherwise, I would have to take a relaxing nap since you lot have already stolen all my usual work. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I like when others steal my work.”

***

People came flying from all directions. Most of them landed on top of the Bulwark to get an updated briefing from Varnika, who continued Lizzy’s treatment.

“What was that about different auras?” A man in shining armor questioned Varnika.

“Cyan and yellow are allies.”

“Allies? Undead as allies? Are you kidding me?!” He scowled. “Since when does the Deathguard ally with undead?”

“Save it,” grunted Varnika. “They were the first to support the Captain. If not for them, then Lizbeth would be dead and the Bulwark overrun.”

“Who says that they weren’t the ones bringing the horde here in the first place?!”

Terry felt anger welling up in himself. “I, for one.”

“And who the Wastes are you?!” demanded the man and made a step towards Terry.

Dargones calmly reached out his axe to block the path to Terry. He signaled with his free hand: [Touch him if you are tired of living.]

“He is someone that knows more about the situation than you do,” said Varnika. “He was here with the Captain.”

“A woman from Thanatos prepared an ambush,” said Terry. “The horde was a part of it.”

“Hmph.” The man wore a sullen expression.

“Just behave yourself,” said Varnika. “You can feel free to address all your complaints to the Captain afterwards. If you can’t play nice, then piss off. I’ll inform Mal that you could not be arsed to do your part. I’m sure he’ll have something to say on the matter later.”

The man harrumphed one more time but then took off to support in the fight.

Sounds resembling fireworks could be heard from the direction of Tiv. Terry saw several signal flares. The area had changed since he last took a glance in that direction.

“Ah good,” exclaimed Varnika. “They have secured the perimeter. Then it won’t be long before the next wave of reinforcements.”

“Isn’t the situation already under control?” asked Terry.

*BAM!* *BAM!* A golden hammer struck the gargantuan centipede again and again.

Finally, the centipede retreated and dug its way back beneath the Bulwark.

“In the Wastes? Never.” Varnika gave a lopsided smile. “Battles as large as this have a tendency to escalate. Causing large mana disturbances in the Wastes is simply asking for trouble.”

“Wouldn’t Devon sense something like that?”

Varnika paused. “Ah, right, the Captain’s peculiar scout should be here, too.” She squinted at the battle. “I haven’t seen him, though. Only the occasional flash of hellfire.”

“I can sense his location. Should I go and ask?”

“If you can do that without getting yourself killed…” Varnika smirked. “You’ll first have to persuade your babysitter.”

Terry nodded to himself and then walked to Devon’s signature.

Dargones stopped Terry. [The fight is still ongoing.]

“Yeah, but…” Terry reflexively spoke and immediately felt like an idiot.

He can’t hear you, genius. Remember?

“Uhm…” Terry pointed at himself and then into the distance.

Dargones’s look remained unchanged.

I think he already knows that you want to go.

“Ugh…” Terry was reminded of a game in which one person was not allowed to speak and had to get others to guess a word.

I never liked that game…

Maybe you can get Ying to teach you finger runes later…

Anyway, what will you do now?

Terry’s expression brightened with an idea, and he retrieved his notebook and pen. He wrote to explain his intentions.

Dargones chuckled and then signed: [Once it has calmed down some more, we can go.]

***

Terry swung the glaive. The fiery blade cleaved through a low-level skeletal warrior.

Dargones walked close to him and eliminated any major threats while allowing Terry to deal with some of the weaker enemies.

Step by step, they approached Devon’s signature.

There was a group of death knights at the entrance to the Bulwark. Their backs blocked Terry’s line of sight.

Devon should be right behind them.

A bright red flame of hellfire blasted through the death knights. Terry’s pupils constricted from the sudden intensity of light.

Slowly, Terry’s vision returned, and he could see the blurry outline of a person.

Something is weird…

The outline was waving with an unusually long arm.

Terry blinked and squinted his eyes.

“Hey Terry!” Devon’s cheerful voice rang out.

Devon was drenched in dark blood – both dry and fresh. There was little left of the dress’s upper fabric. The battle had been too much for the mending enchantment. Aside from a small strap that clung onto Devon’s right shoulder, Devon was bare-chested. The dress now looked more like a kilt – a pink kilt with bloody daisies on it. If it wasn’t for the narrow cut at the waist, it might have fallen off already.

Devon grinned broadly and waved his left hand. “Look, it grew back!” He was waving with his previous arm in his hand.

Terry was dumbstruck. He glanced at Dargones, and for once, the man’s expression was not completely tranquil. Instead, there were raised eyebrows with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

[Quite chipper for someone grabbing onto an amputated arm.]

“I could hear that without hearing that.” Devon tilted his head. “It’s also different from the other voices. How did you do that?”

“Dargones can’t hear you. We came to ask you if—” Terry was interrupted by Megumi’s arrival.

Megumi stared at Terry.

“Varnika is keeping watch over Lizzy,” said Terry.

[Greetings, Dargones.]

[Greetings, Captain. Here to check in with your scout, too?]

“Captain, look! It grew back!” Devon waved again.

Megumi shook her head but could not help a slight smile. Then, the Captain asked: “Can you sense any approaching trouble?”

“Nah, just the usual crawlers around,” replied Devon. “The big one is off in the southeast.”

Megumi heaved a sigh of relief. She walked up to Devon.

“I don’t know if I should be angry or proud.” Megumi maintained Devon’s gaze.

Devon blinked and replied flatly: “Well, if you don’t mind, I personally would have a preference.”

Megumi chuckled and wiped something from her eye.

A moment later, Megumi was hugging Devon tightly. “I thought I had lost Lizzy and…” Her voice became quiet. “Thank you.”

Megumi sniffled and broke the hug. “I can help you build your cabin for visitors if you want.”

“Oh good,” exclaimed Devon. “I would really prefer the roof to not be leaky. Lizzy’s pottery looks awful.”

Speaking of Lizzy, Devon turned his eyes up towards the Bulwark’s plateau. He nodded to himself with a relieved smile.

***

The battle had calmed down and Terry stepped out of the Bulwark together with the others.

“Hey, Lizzy!” shouted Devon happily. “The Captain missed you.”

“Hey, everyone.” Lizzy’s shaking voice reached them.

Two Wasteguards were supporting Lizzy and slowly descended from the sky. A moment later, Varnika blinked into existence, too.

Megumi became teary-eyed and embraced Lizzy.

“I’m sorry,” said Lizzy. “Sorry for not paying attention and getting hurt, I—”

“Stop it,” interrupted the Captain. “We all have things we can improve on. We can take time to reflect later.” Megumi distanced herself from Lizzy again. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just a bit weak.”

“You…” Lizzy looked Devon over. “Your… robes don’t look so good.”

“I’ll find new ones. Glad you’re better.” Devon was staring absentmindedly at the horizon.

A loud groan reverberated through the area. “And here I had promised my back to not fight anything larger than a colossal ostrich anymore.”

The source of the grumbled complaints was a dwarven woman with greying hair in a tight bun and with straight sideburns.

Terry was certain that this was his aunt Sigille. The facial similarity to Isille was undeniable.

Others appeared one after the other.

“What are we going to do about the other undead?” The man from earlier appeared and glared at Saul and the others.

Sigille eyed him up and down. “From what I recall, they were already defending the Bulwark when you were still lollygagging somewhere else. In case of unexpected infighting, I have a policy of choosing sides by order of arrival.”

The man faltered under Sigille’s stink-eye.

“Now, where is he…” Sigille let her gaze wander over the people present.

Her eyes paused on Varnika. Sigille raised an eyebrow at Varnika’s outfit – or lack of one.

Next, Sigille’s eyes stopped on Devon and his tattered, flowery dress. She forgot to blink and muttered: “Kids these days.”

Devon looked at Lizzy. “She said ‘kid.’ That means she’s older than me, right?”

“That’s Devon,” said another man that had stepped next to Sigille.

Terry recognized the strange mana signature he had detected earlier. He was shocked by the man’s appearance.

The man’s blood vessels were clearly visible as dark lines on his face. This was an advanced symptom of severely damaged mana channels. His skin was nearly grey. In humans, this was a clear sign of mana corruption. According to common sense, it was a miracle that this person could still stand.

Elemental possession… Matteo.

His eyes look weird, too, but that does not match any mana condition I have ever heard of.

“I told you about him before,” said Matteo. “He’s much older than you, Ma Sigille.”

“Huh?” Sigille took another glance at Devon and his youthful appearance. She grumbled: “Well, that’s just not fair.”

“Your signature has become even weirder.” Devon addressed Matteo and narrowed his eyes.

“Look who’s talking!” Sigille blurted out. “Before coming close, I was sure that you would be my main opponent. What is up with that mana of yours? It could scare a lich king into weeing her knickers.”

Devon ignored Sigille’s interjection and continued wondering out loud. “Like many signatures in one… and…”

Matteo watched Saul and the others. He had his left hand on the hilt of a sheathed dagger at his left hip.

“Is there a problem?” asked Ying, who was standing next to Saul. He was still worried about Matteo’s reputation. Matteo keeping a hand on his weapon was not very comforting.

“No, he’s just calming down from battle,” said Sigille. “The dagger has a heart-seeker inscription. Helps with keeping emotions in check.”

Terry recalled what he knew about the inscription. It was referenced in The Path of a Mage because Kivis – the dagger-wielding companion of the Veilbinder – had made heavy use of it.

Terry examined Matteo’s eyes again. They were white and milky except for the iris that glowed purple and shimmered through the fog.

The fog is an effect of the inscription. No idea about the purple iris or the strange glow in it…

The heart-seeker inscription numbed down a person’s senses while highlighting the hearts of living beings. Folk would become blurry light-grey shapes while their hearts became clearly visible in bright colors. All sounds would be muffled except for the heartbeat of others, which became amplified.

“That’s good,” said Ying doubtfully. “It’s just that…”

“My hatred is reserved for a specific necromancer,” said Matteo calmly. “Unless you are harboring him, you don’t need to worry about me.”

Devon stepped forward and pointed at the sheathed katana on Matteo’s back. “That thing is new. It has a signature, too.”

Terry examined the sword in his mana sense and gasped again.

Aura. A fiendish weapon.

“A named sword: Soul Fury.” Megumi’s eyes were sparkling. “I heard you managed to acquire it back then. Such a nice blade…” She sighed with a wistful look. “If it wasn’t for the blade attempting to take over the wielder’s mind.”

“Greetings, Captain.” Matteo respectfully greeted her.

“Long time no see,” said Megumi. “It’s been a few years.”

Devon narrowed his eyes at the sword and muttered: “No possessing the Captain, you hear me?”

“Alright, introductions are all fine and dandy, but first things first,” interjected Sigille. “Where is my alleged nephew?”

Terry nervously raised his hand.

Why are you doing that? Can’t you talk like a normal person? I guess they should be glad that you are doing more than blinking this time…

[All yours.] Dargones stepped away from Terry and walked to stand next to Amelia.

Sigille walked close to Terry and scrutinized his face. “Jorgen and Florine are alive and well in Arcana. So are your other companions.”

Terry felt a knot in his heart becoming untied, and a wave of relief washed over his face.

“I should check your Guardian card or whatever, but that reaction is good enough for me,” said Sigille with warm eyes.

“Also, the fact that, of all possible places, I find you fighting in the middle of an undead horde makes you my kind of family.” Sigille grinned and lightly punched Terry’s shoulder.

Ouch.

Sigille and normal people had different standards for ‘lightly.’

“Hey Matteo, I have found you a little cousin,” shouted Sigille. “I know it’s a bit late, but let me know if I should set up a playdate or something.”

Matteo exhaled a light snort.

“Alright, now that I’ve taken care of the important stuff, time for the minor matters,” said Sigille and approached Ying and Saul. “What the Wastes is going on? I mean, thanks for being here. That being said, where the Wastes did you come from?”

“Is it possible to discuss this in a smaller group?” asked Ying. His eyes wandered to the quarrelsome man from earlier.

“Sure,” said Sigille. “Megumi? Amelia?”

The two nodded at Sigille.

“Matteo, please keep an eye on things here,” said Sigille. “If anyone acts out, feel free to cut something off if necessary. I figure there are enough healers around to not worry.”

Sigille, Megumi, Amelia, and Ying distanced themselves from the others. Afterwards, Ying cast a spell to isolate any sounds and explained about Syn while Megumi corroborated his statements.

Sigille kept her expression mostly blank while Amelia’s curiosity was plain to see.

After some time, the group returned to the others.

“Change of plans,” said Sigille to Matteo. “Since we’re already in the Wastes, we might as well take a nice vacation.”

“Fine with me,” said Matteo. “But what about your situation?”

“Meh, who cares? With the last dungeon pioneering only a few days ago, the witch does not have any grounds to complain.”

“Yeah, but what about the cult mission?”

Sigille scratched her nose with her pinky finger and snickered. “Oh, the witch will definitely complain about that one. Why not let her wait some more? Maybe she’ll develop an ulcer. That thought tickles me a bit.”

“Dargo and I will have to go back,” interjected Amelia. “This has already taken longer than expected. We are behind schedule.”

[Thanks, you two,] signed Matteo.

[Any time,] replied Dargones.

“Should we come and get you once you’re done?” asked Amelia.

“That—”

“That would be great!” Sigille interrupted Matteo.

[Please don’t inconvenience yourselves,] signed Matteo.

Dargones lightly shook his head.

“Could you pass a message to Dhruv?” asked Sigille. “I don’t want Little Silly to worry longer than necessary. Just tell him I’m with Terry now. He’ll know to pass the news forward.”

“Sure, I can tell Dhruv.” Amelia nodded and then looked at Matteo. “Just signal us once you are ready. We’ll pick you up.”

Afterwards, she and Dargones vanished. Amelia had teleported them away.

“Why are you always so hesitant to accept their help?” rebuked Sigille.

“Because the two keep trying to repay me for something that I have never even considered a debt to begin with,” replied Matteo.

“So? They probably don’t consider their help to be payment, either.” Sigille raised her eyebrows and gestured as if this was obvious.

“Honestly,” grumbled Sigille in a lower voice. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Anyway, the party here is over,” said Sigille. “I trust the Wasteguard can take care of the rest. I need to borrow Megumi’s group for some sightseeing.”

***