Immovable Mage

– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 218, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 40 –

“Come on! Do it.”

Terry chuckled and shook his head.

“Do it!” Iris was sitting in front of him and wiggled her eyebrows. “Do it.” She had her tanned hands facing each other and tapped her own fingers. “Do it. Let’s go get some ink!”

Terry lifted his eyes from the book and stared at Iris. “I haven’t even finished reading yet.”

“You keep flipping back to the same tats again and again.” Iris grinned. “I know you’re interested. Let’s go!”

“You do remember that I said I was wary of trying this?” returned Terry calmly. “I’m not willing to lose my spell or cultivation.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “No disrespect to your aunt – she sounds like she was a real badass – but she didn’t know what she was talking about with body inscriptions. I mean she was not completely wrong, but…

“Trust me!” Iris gestured at herself. She was wearing a loose T-shirt and hotpants, which left her arms and legs exposed to display the countless different body inscriptions. “I know what I’m talking about!”

Terry’s eyes involuntarily drifted back to some of the body inscriptions the local shops offered.

“You can try the shallow skin layer inscriptions,” continued Iris. “If it’s not right, you’ll feel it. With the shallow one, you don’t even have to burn it off. It will fade out after a season—”

“‘Season’?!” exclaimed Terry with shock.

“Ok fine, I know. You’re only passing through, but like I’ve said: The skin layer inscriptions can be burned off if you don’t like them. It’s painful, but I’ve done it and the damage is nothing that a good heal doesn’t fix and—”

“Okay fine, let’s say I would be able to try them out.” Terry spoke both to Iris and to himself. In a way, it was a relief that Iris had chosen to spend her time in the reception room, because talking to her appeared less weird than when he was talking to himself. “Those are expensive.”

“And worth every copper!” stressed Iris with a grin. “Much better than wasting time learning spells. A few sittings at the inkshop and boom done. You’d have to sell your time really cheaply for anything else to come close to it.”

“Every power easily given is easily taken,” muttered Terry.

“I never had so much as my skin-layer inscriptions damaged,” retorted Iris.

“I’ve once had my arm melted by a cultist channeling some lava bullshit,” rebutted Terry. “Forget my skin, that ability destroyed both my septimum bracer, the base layer of cloud badger leather, and it damaged my inscribed glove.”

Iris blinked wordlessly at Terry. “Seriously? Lava?”

“Lava.” Terry replied with a nod. “I’ve also had my skin cooked by everything from lightning spells to fire elementals.”

“Okay…” Iris looked disappointed.

“I can see the benefits of body inscriptions,” stressed Terry. “Believe me, I do. When I was forced to fight in Thanatos’s Proving Grounds, my time would have been so much easier if I had relied on body inscriptions instead of items. I don’t really see them as a replacement for spellwork, but they certainly look like an interesting alternative to magic items.”

“So get some! Do it!” Iris was grinning again. “Let’s get inked up! If you’re worried about resilience, you can get the bone-level inscriptions. I figure if something can snap your bones, you’re dead anyway.” She puckered her lips. “Or did that happen to you too…?”

Terry merely shrugged and his eyes drifted once more to the description of different body inscriptions.

“Are you sure you just want to pass through?” Iris asked with a cramped face. “Your life sounds kinda rough.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” replied Terry instantly. “Which is honestly my main concern. These are all quite expensive and that is not even taking into account that I don’t know which – if any – are compatible with my mana type.”

“So what?” Iris shrugged. “You’re loaded, aren’t you? You’re always working. Even this chat is time you get paid, isn’t it? What do a few large silver or small gold coins matter?”

“I need twenty large gold coins to pass the portal,” said Terry wearily. “That’s why it matters.”

“Twenty-one,” corrected Iris.

“Huh?”

“Twenty-one,” repeated Iris. “They’ve increased the price again. One of my guests was complaining about it yesterday.”

Terry immediately frowned. He had not checked the price list the past week. He was making large strides towards his goal, but it was still annoying to have someone swoop in and shift the goalpost.

“All the more important that I’m frugal,” grumbled Terry. He was honestly itching to experiment with body inscriptions, but not at the cost of significantly delaying his return to Arcana.

“There is also the option of just getting the ink and doing your own inscription,” suggested Iris. “I know someone doing an apprenticeship. Perhaps he can hook you up with the materials.”

“Hmm…” Terry considered the option. He had no real knowledge of runic inscriptions. His mana-crafting lessons had never reached that point and from what he knew, it was not something easily picked up on the side. The body inscription system might be slightly different, but he had his doubts that it would be any easier.

But perhaps I don’t have to learn the whole rune system? Since I’m only looking for something with a chance of being compatible with my own mana type, the options are slim, which is kind of sad but it also narrows down the field of study significantly.

Still, no idea if it’s possible to cut the field up like that and if my options make sense without a broader foundation.

A tentative test could be just injecting the ink type and see how it affects my casting and—

“Do it!” Iris prodding jolted Terry from his thoughts. “Let’s get inked!”

Terry snorted and shook his head while Iris was grinning and wiggling her eyebrows again.

“Why does this seem so important to you?” asked Terry.

“Because.” Iris shrugged. “I’m bored. Lavender is always babbling about fashion nonsense or her evening business classes. Daisy is always raving about stories from people long dead, or worse, people that never even existed. Boring!” She leaned closer and pointed with both index fingers at Terry. “If you get inked, we can talk about which inscriptions to get next!”

Here comes the eyebrow wiggle again…

Terry chuckled but shook his head. “I’ll think about it. First I want to see what the Alchemical Garden will pay for the cores from my last trip to the dungeon. I believe there is something special about one of them.”

“Special how?”

Terry opened his mouth but was not sure how to explain it.

Special in that my weird purple vision shows it glowing more distinctly than others…

He chose not to mention that particular detail. He had practiced to get more control over when the strange purple layer would render atop his regular vision and mana sight – with some success. Unfortunately, he still had no idea what the purple stuff signified.

Oh, how he longed for the libraries and advisors in Arcana City!

“I’ve found another way to trigger a dungeon challenge,” said Terry instead. “Perhaps that has something to do with it.”

I didn’t see anything like that from the dungeon challenges with the earth giants though. I should check in the books on dungeons that Samuel gave me…

“Well, I’m sure the Alchemical Garden will mention it if they notice anything,” said Iris and yawned. “They are known to treat good suppliers well and they seem to love your guts.”

Terry involuntarily grinned. He was proud of himself for having found a good network of people to sell to. In Arcana, he had relied on the Guardians and the advice of his family to identify whom to sell which core to, but here in the Freedom Cooperative, he had to figure it out on his own.

Admittedly, it wasn’t that hard if you had mana touch to scout their warehouses and knew exactly who was stocking what.

“I think one of yours has just arrived at entrance four,” said Terry. “He’s coming with someone else though.”

“Perfect.” Iris stood up and grinned. “I introduced them and told them they’d get a discount if we’re all together.”

Terry raised an eyebrow. “Why?” Seems like losing money.

“Because it’s more fun for me, of course.” Iris’s eyebrows jumped up again.

“If it’s fun for you, then why are you charging for it?”

“Because I’m good at it, silly.” Iris grinned widely. “Comes with training.” She pointed at some of the divine mana that was flinging around Terry while he was chatting with her. “I’m sure you can understand the benefits of training. The House is paying you for the results of your training. My guests are paying me for the results of mine.” She stood up and moved towards the back exit of the reception hall. “Time for my morning exercise!”

“Morning?” Terry blinked. “It’s been nearly four hours since noon!” He snickered and shook his head before returning his full attention back to his own training. The kind of training that could help him get home. The kind of training that would hopefully allow him to protect his friends and whaka.

After a while, Terry could hear some raised voices and he sighed. Of course, it was another martialist. Probably just recently arrived in the city too.

“What do you mean ‘not today’? Do you have any idea who I am? I’m— Mana shitballs, it’s you!” The incensed martialist nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw Terry glaring at him.

Before Terry could even ask if there was any trouble, the martialist fervently bowed and sprinted towards the exit. “S-sorry, merciful senior, I’ll be on my way! I didn't mean to disturb the venerable elder.”

“Uhh…” Terry did not know what to say. The martialist appeared to recognize him, but he did not remember the face or the specific mana signature at all.

“That’s the third boastful martialist running away as soon as they see you.” Jasmine pointed out. “Are you sure you don’t have a grudge with them?”

“No idea who that was.” Terry shrugged. His mana sense told him that the guy was still running at full speed. “...weirdo.”

“Well, I can’t say I don’t appreciate you cutting their egomaniac monologuing short, but try not to scare any of the well-behaved guests, will you?” Jasmine winked at Terry.

***

Terry stood inside the Alchemical Garden shop with a furrowed brow. “...why not? Is there anything wrong with the cores?”

“No, they’re perfect.” The shop owner admitted immediately. “I wish all my suppliers would bring me cores in such pristine conditions.” The eyes of the old lady looked almost sad.

“The sign outside still says you’re looking for mana cores. Is that out of date?” Terry pressed the issue.

“No, I really do need the cores.” The shop owner shook her head. “I wish I could buy them, but I can’t.”

“Did you find another supplier?” Terry tried to come up with possible reasons for her refusal to simply buy the cores he brought.

“Not exactly.” The shop owner sighed.

“I don’t get it,” said Terry. He pointed at the mana cores on the table. “If these are ‘perfect’ in your words, then why wouldn’t you buy them?”

“It’s not a matter of quality.” The old lady shook her head. “These would be perfect for my advanced potions, but unfortunately, most of my sales are for the lower potions and, well…” She curled her finger for Terry to come closer and then whispered. “You’ve pissed off the Dungeon Cooperative. Now they’ve put the thumbscrews on me to only purchase from their members. You’re bringing high quality cores, but if I buy from you, the cooperative won’t sell to me anymore and my business depends on the quantities they can deliver.”

Terry scowled. He had a feeling that the two elves outside the dungeon were bad news but he had forgotten about them after they had let him go without a fight. He clicked his tongue. “If it wasn’t for the damned quota system limiting access to the dungeon, I could bring more and…” His thoughts trailed off.

They’re behind that too, aren’t they?

Terry involuntarily growled while his expression darkened.

“What terms did they offer?” asked the shop lady. “Twenty? Thirty?”

“Hm?” Terry tried to remember.

“Twenty percent fee for members and thirty for the permit?” clarified the shop owner.

“No…” Terry shook his head. “Forty and sixty.”

The shop owner whistled. “They’ve ramped up again. The current members really aren’t going easy on the next generation. Ever since they’ve started separating the membership terms based on seniority of membership, the rates for newbies keep getting higher and higher. Unfair if you ask me, but what can I say?” She shrugged. “Nothing you or I can do about it. Only the members get to decide how to run their cooperative.”

Terry rubbed his temples. He did not care to discuss the Dungeon Cooperative. He just wanted to sell his dungeon stuff. He just wanted to earn the money to leave. He did not care what they were up to or why they set up their organization in whatever manner. He just wanted to be left alone. He was just passing through.

“Guess I’ll just bring these to the Daybreak Apothecary,” said Terry in resignation. The place did not pay as well but what could he do?

“That’s not going to work, sweetie.” The old lady grimaced with compassion. “I’m not the only one dependent on the Dungeon Cooperative.”

Terry felt a headache coming.

“I would not put my hopes up for selling in any of the crafter’s shops if I were you,” said the shop keeper. She shrugged and continued: “Of course, it’s possible that one of them is willing to take the risk under the table, but…” She looked Terry up and down and nodded. “You know what, you’ve always been polite with me.” She curled her finger for Terry to come closer again and whispered: “Try the trade merchants. They pay less but they also don’t give a hoot about getting into a spat with the Dungeon Cooperative.”

“Thanks…” Terry grumbled on his way out. He would still give some of his other connections a try, but he already suspected that he would be forced to follow the suggestion and deal with the middle-men he had tried to avoid before.

A short while later, Terry left one of the merchant houses. He had finally been able to sell his dungeon loot but at considerably lower prices compared to his previous shop network. The reduced profit was still vastly preferable to the fees when dealing with the Dungeon Cooperative, but it still hurt to compare his current earnings potential to just a week ago.

Definitely not trying body ink anytime soon…

First the price hike for the dimensional portal he wanted to use and now the hassle of haggling with merchants.

Fortunately, his other jobs weren’t impacted by the Dungeon Cooperative’s embargo. He knew that overall, he was still on track to get his portal ticket, even if it would take a bit longer.

Nevertheless, Terry felt a growing resentment towards the dungeon-restricting and membership-pushing organization.

Why couldn’t the previous ruler have a falling out with them instead of with the Guardians?

A part of him wondered if he would feel differently about the Dungeon Cooperative if he had grown up in the city state. After all, the overall cooperative structure appeared to resemble the Guardians, except for the exploitative terms separated by seniority.

Be that as it may, Terry could not seriously be arsed to empathize with the cooperative in his current situation. He just wanted to earn some money and leave the city. Why did they have to make things difficult for him?

“And here we have another scab!” A familiar raving voice entered Terry’s ears. “Running to the bloodsuckers instead of paying his fair dues!”

“Ugh…” Terry groaned under his breath. He knew the old bat was close but he had hoped she would pick someone else to pester today.

“Don’t think we don’t know why you’re here!” Tamsin pointed an accusatory finger at Terry. “Leaning on parasites that leech off the rest of our country! Why would you come here if not to dodge the other cooperatives?!”

“So what?” retorted Terry irritatedly. He was half-mad at himself for always getting sucked into these conversations. He preferred the lunatics that immediately attacked him. At least, then he was justified in punching them until they shut up and left him alone.

I really need to stop engaging just because someone is talking to me…

“‘So what’?! The arrogance! The selfishness!” Tamsin’s face flushed from anger. “Working in cooperatives is a must for every honorable soul! Subverting the cooperatives is a—”

“Why?” interrupted Terry. “What makes it more ‘honorable’ than other work?” He was honestly curious about the answer.

“Cooperative structures are a tradition in the Bloodborne Kingdom!” replied Tamsin with righteous pride.

“...that’s not much of a reason, is it?” Terry tilted his head. “And why are you calling this the Bloodborne Kingdom. I thought it’s the Freedom Cooperative now?”

“Never!” barked Tamsin with clenched fists. “As long as the king is alive, I refuse to accept this nonsense and—”

“I thought you liked cooperatives,” interjected Terry with a furrowed brow. “Shouldn’t you be glad that the government is now run as one too?”

“Running businesses as cooperatives is good sense, but running the government like this is…” Tamsin was short for breath. “...pure madness!”

“Because?” Terry narrowed his eyes. When Tamsin was only glaring at him, he guessed: “...tradition?”

“Yes, tradition,” hissed Tamsin. “A long track record of stability and prosperity.”

“That sounds—”

“Traditions are just solutions to which we have forgotten the problems!” Tamsin shouted Terry down. “Only a fool ignores the wisdom of the past!”

For a moment, Terry was at a loss for words.

‘Traditions are solutions to which we have forgotten the problems?’

He found something intriguing in the perspective. It sounded somewhat right. At least, it didn’t sound completely wrong, but…

‘It’s impossible to unlearn wrong or outdated information unless you are giving alternatives a chance.’

…but he could not help but think of the lessons he had learned in Thanatos and the parts of the Warlord’s Inquiries that explained the reasoning behind sortition and establishing the Lucky Wing in their Bloody Hall.

In the end, Terry simply shook his head and walked above Tamsin on layers of divine mana. He did not really care to discuss those things. Especially not with an old grouch that had nothing better to do than shout at people the whole day.

Terry had better stuff to do. Now that the cut for the middle-men merchants was eating into his income, he had to evaluate options to make up the difference. The only alternative was accepting to delay his return to Arcana and Terry wasn’t sure if he was willing to resign himself to that.

He also had the gnawing feeling that there would be future price hikes in the fee for the dimensional portal.

The faster he was out of the city, the better.

***

“Who are you people?” The bounty hunter collapsed to her knees. Her head was ringing from the earlier explosion and her vision was blurry from whatever smoke their assailants had unleashed before.

“I’m the one asking questions here.” A short figure walked through the smoke. Two strains of perfectly white hair were visible underneath the dark hood. They were framing the face of a dwarven woman. Her hard eyes were glowering at the bounty hunter “I’ll start with you and then I’ll move on to your companions. If I hear any contradictions…” She left her voice hanging threateningly in the air while four more figures appeared from behind, much taller than the dwarf herself.

The bounty hunter gulped. She and her companions had been defeated in an instant and she still had no idea how. Seeing more and more silhouettes appear inside the thick smoke was already frightening enough, but the real horror was that even now, she could barely detect them. Now that they had chosen to make themselves visible, she could see them alright, but she was still not able to detect them.

The bounty hunter was the tracker in her group. She had spent her whole life sharpening her detection skills, but none of them was able to warn her of those tall silhouettes. No sound. No disturbance in the air. No mana signature. No life signature. Nothing. It was as if she was looking at an illusion, but she knew it could not be that. Illusions didn’t crash through walls. They didn’t rip your equipment apart as if it was made of grass.

“You have chosen a bounty I am interested in,” began the dwarven woman. “I want to know what you know. Everything. Starting with the reasons for why you are moving east.”

“Is that what this is about?” The bounty hunter could not help but scream. “You can have the job! We will back off, we—”

“Answer my questions,” growled the dwarf. Some of the tall silhouettes in the smoke stepped closer.

“I…” The bounty hunter gulped. “O-one of our contacts in the martial sects told us about a rumor. A tomb of trials…”

***