The Second Law of Magic is framed thus, the magnitude of a magical working, or spell, is dependent on the amount of mana provided by the spell’s originator as well as the flow rate at which it is imparted. This explains why prodigious amounts of mana do not a [Grand Magus] make. It is useless if the speed of conveyance from a larger mana well is too meagre for the spell it is meant to empower- Wysterl Weisermann. The Fundamentals of Magic.

“Master Arthur! Livierre?!”

Nora had arrived. Was she a friend or a foe? Was she in on what Arthur presumed was the Djy’veli’s plan to cut off loose ends? Maybe Arthur could use her truth telling skills to his advantage? Did her skill have a range? The walkway had to be tens of metra long.

“Nora! He betrayed us!” Livierre replied before Arthur could even respond. That was of course a lie, which convinced Arthur that Nora’s skill did in fact have limits.

‘Frag!’ Arthur cursed. ‘Did she actually defeat a golem by herself? Where are the others?’

Unfortunately, he was on the wrong side of the platform. Livierre was the one who must have had a line of sight to Nora. Arthur couldn’t even peak over the rim of the control artifice to see where Nora was.

“What?! Master Arthur would never,” Nora said, sceptical of Livierre’s claim.

“He tried to destroy the core but his spells backfired,” Livierre said. “Look at all the lightning around us.”

“Master Arthur? I presume you’re still alive?” Nora called out. “Is what she’s saying true?”

Arthur sighed in relief. At least the dhampir didn’t just blindly take Livierre at her word.

“Nora, am I so vindictive that I would try to destroy a dungeon core to take out an entire clan?!” Arthur yelled. “I am not so unhinged that I wouldn’t know what interfering with something I barely understand would do. The lightning was just an accident. I was trying to defend myself,”

“Don’t listen to his sweet words Nora,” Livierre said. “He’s just a liar like the rest of his kind.”

“But you said ―”

“I know what I said, Nora,” Livierre said, almost plaintive. “To imagine I was also charmed by his wiles,”

“Hey now!” Arthur interjected. “I did no such thing!”

He jolted as lightning crackled and lashed out near his foot. Arthur was not so sure they were going to be safe for long. Maybe if he could find a way to shut down the core from the mageslate.

‘Maybe [Logs] functions like a task manager. That or [Status],’ Arthur thought. He willed the mageslate into his hands. It did not appear. ‘ Shit’s creek. Even skills?!’

“It was after you rejected him. Remember the day he treated you to a glass of wine?” Livierre said. “After that he―can you imagine? I can’t even say it”

“Really, Livierre?! Really…of all the things you chose to go with. You choose that?” Arthur facepalmed. “Just how degenerate do you think I am, huh?”

‘She really thought I was into Nora?’ Arthur rubbed his face.

“You’re wrong, Livierre!” Nora called out. “Master Arthur has been nothing but polite to me. He never once propositioned me, not even after the wine,” she said hesitantly.

“All he asked was if I ever thought of seeing outside the Dust. I thought you were better than this Livierre,” her voice sounded strained and bitter towards the end.

“Heh, Angustifolia. You picking him over me?” Livierre scoffed. “Not like he’ll get out of this alive either way. Arkilius and Kervir are right behind you aren’t they?”

“What are you saying?” Nora asked.

“He’s not supposed to leave alive, Nora!” Livierre said. “Imagine what would happen if the dwarves knew what he did and that we were complicit in it.”

‘Wow! Why am I not even surprised?’

“Master Arthur…Is that what you would do after you left?” Nora asked.

“At the expense of something happening to the innocent Djy’veli in the clan?” Arthur sighed. “I don’t think so, Nora. I don’t want that blood on my hands if the dwarves are the people you paint them to be―I haven’t met one so far.”

After a breath, Arthur added, “I doubt anyone else knows what we’ve been doing besides Venera, whoever this chief of yours is, and the people inside of this dungeon. Isn’t that why we didn’t have a public send off before we came in?”

“Don’t listen to him, Nora!” Livierre's snapped. Her voice cracked like a whip.

“Perhaps it is time I listened to what my intuition says, Livierre,” Nora said. Resignation was heavy in her tone, despite the warbled quality of her voice.

“Wait, what do you mean?―” Livierre gasped in befuddlement. Arthur furtivelypeered over the artifice to see what Nora was doing. Past the wavering air that warped as pure mana funnelled into the core, where space seemed to bend like an event horizon, he saw Nora just disappear into shadow.

More lightning flashed from above the dome and when Arthur blinked, Nora was right besides Livierre. Arthur fully rose from his hideaway, surprised as much as Livierre, whose silver eyes had gone round.

“Nora?” Arthur asked in disbelief. He saw the lightning still grounding on the walkway. Nora was cradling one of her arms; her wurmhide armour was scuffed and some of her hair had been bloodied. Yet she looked unharmed and perhaps a little weary.

“Master Arthur,” she said, biting her lip. Livierre was frozen, working her mouth like a fish out of water, an unspoken question on her lips. The dhampir walked towards him.

“Yes Mastresse Nora?” Arthur asked.

“Will you have me Master Arthur? You asked if I ever wanted to get out of the Dust,” Nora said.What the dhampir was asking of him was well, now that he thought about it, he didn’t know the answer to that. Was he supposed to be responsible for someone else now or had they both misunderstood one another?

‘The heck am I stalling for? My lacking common sense got me in this mess in the first place,’ Arthur swallowed dryly. He did not want his intentions misconstrued, but he was suddenly put on the spot.

“Not if I can help it!” Livierre yelled, whirling a loaded crossbow at Arthur. Things suddenly happened way too fast. The crossbow fired― Nora cried out in warning as she suddenly burst into wisps of darkness. Arthur didn’t even get a word out before it was too late.

Whatever skill or magic Nora had used was suddenly amplified by the dungeon core, as a wisp of darkness was sucked into the construct. Time seemed to stall to a crawl as the world became a grey void. Colours washed out and sounds disappeared.

The last thing Arthur heard was a surprised squawk from Livierre before both of them were swallowed up by the greyscale world. Even the quarrel Livierre had shot was frozen in flight.

‘Nora!’Arthur panicked, fearing the worst, but no sound came from his lips. He blinked, and his perspective shifted as the real world revealed itself. Arthur choked, bile crawling up his throat as vertigo assailed him. Then Nora appeared, eyes wide in surprise as she flailed in the air. Her scream died on her lips as a squall buffeted them both, stealing the air from their lungs.

The core’s chamber was nowhere to be seen. Instead, they seemed to be surrounded by roiling storms. Lightning blinded them, static building up in the air and in their hair. Thunder boomed, as Arthur’s ears popped in response to a sudden change in pressure. Rain and hail soaked them.

They’d appeared in the sky― Arthur registered the displacement as his stomach lurched. Then gravity reasserted its grasp. For the barest of moments, their fingers touched before an updraft wrenched them away from each other. Both went tumbling through the air, up, down―sideways.

“Nora!” Arthur croaked, windswept rain suddenly in his face. Nora let out a silent scream. Gusts blew her spinning skywards, with her platinum blonde hair whipping around her. Lightning lashed out from the cauldron of turbulent clouds and chaos in the vicinity. If one of those discharges hit them, not even Arthur would survive. And if they survived the storm, the terra firma would have them.

“Frag! If she gets any further!” Arthur swore. “Frag me sideways! Of course, guh!” He swore again, as he remembered that he did in fact have some way out. He willed his hoverboard across his torso. The Azure Surfer appeared, and suddenly he was holding fast to the strap that would usually hold down his free leg.

Lightning illuminated Nora’s silhouette getting further and further away. Arthur engaged the pedal bringing the Mark I to life. He was lucky that his momentum of spin didn’t send the board careening. Instead it cut out as his line of sight had just fallen in with Nora’s location. His downward momentum stalled and reversed and the crescendoing hum of the Mark I shifted Arthur’s motion forward.

“Heck yeah! haha,” Arthur chuckled, catching another updraft. He drew himself up to a crouch, the hoverboard rocking in jarring motions against the wind. Nora’s silhouette grew in size with every breath.

However, the only trouble he had was matching her trajectory. She was curled in on herself, unaware that Arthur had come for her. Arthur needed something to get her attention and look his way.

‘[Light]!’ Arthur thought, casting the cantrip. 1.5 metra had never been so far yet so near. The spell took, well, maybe way too effectively because of the mana borne storm. And that got her attention.

Arthur’s cheeks hurt from the biggest shit-eating grin he’d ever had as he stretched both his arms out. Nora intuited his intention as her body decohered into wisps of darkness. Arms hugged against Arthur’s torso as a weight leaned into him.

“I got you,” Arthur gasped, breathing hard with exertion. Holding onto the dhampir’s smaller body he cast [Gust Shield] around them. Then he willed his navigation skill to the forefront of his mind. Arthur figured that if anything, he needed a point of reference to move towards. His original destination had always been north.

[Veres North] took hold with a tell-tale subtle nudge felt between his brows. With that, Arthur pushed the hoverboard’s tolerances, shunting every thaum into the Mark I so much that it trembled under his feet.

The hoverboard accelerated, cutting through the storm. Assisted by his [Gusting Shield] spell flexed into an almost elliptical shape with [Aer Mastery], their speed mounted. Before they knew it, they broke out of the storm into predawn.

Casting about for his bearings, Arthur let out shuddering breaths of relief at the scenery about them.They had been blown far, perhaps a hundred kilia and then some from the oasis.

That put them firmly within spitting distance of the Great Faeriweald. It was the towering spires of eroded rock on their backs that clued Arthur to their current location.

The Humpbeast Ridges were well behind them. There was no longer desert beneath them, but tall trees of the Faeriweald’s Shallows. Compared to the deeper misting canopies, the trees were modest in size. It took a while for his mind to register the endless ocean of greenery.

But for the wurmhide armour, he would have been cold, wet and miserable. It was nominally a thick leather suit that was weather resistant. He retained his warmth too, and therefore, it could be said he was only miserable, tired, and betrayed. Nora didn’t fare any better and seemed dead on her feet, clutching to him with a cold grip as steely as death. His ribs ached.

Casting his eyes about, Arthur saw the blush in the sky. Dawn was approaching and sooner or later he needed to rest. His bones were literally cold from the inside out, and somewhere at the back of his knees and in the crook of his arms ached.

Arthur wasn’t sure whether it was from exhaustion or some form of mana sickness. He needed to go down before his body crashed. A throbbing migraine, bone-deep weariness and faltering concentration felt like the beginning of the coffee crash he’d been dreading.

Arthur looked for a place to set down and saw a glade, amongst the virgin forest of the Faeriweald. He tilted the hoverboard and brought them in for a landing. And just in time for the cloudburst to disgorge its bounty.

‘Well, I take back my words. I shall be wet, cold and miserable,’ Arthur huffed as they touched down in the glade.

Nora might have been shaken, but she was not out of sorts. As soon as they touched down in the glade, she was already on guard using all of her senses from her vampiric side to scope out the surroundings. Arthur noticed that she no longer cradled her arm as if hurt. She must have probably healed a fracture or something.

A musty forest awaited them as they reached the tree line. The incessant spray of rain was broken up by an impenetrable canopy of ligneous giants tens of metra tall, dispersing into a few small drops.

It was indeed dreary before dawn, and the weather made the air even more sombre. Even the birds of the glade were yet to wake, as they nested somewhere in the canopies. Under the buttress roots, curling on themselves like gnarled knuckles, the duo set up camp to wait out the weather and catch their breaths.

When they’d started to set down camp, sleep was starting to claw at the edges of their awareness, slipping in like a smothering blanket of darkness. For Arthur, it was worse because his body ached all over, like the worst hangover ever. His muttering punctuated the silence as he tried to stay awake; thoughts of imbibing some of the Xazhu brew to perk up were abandoned, as they were enough to make him feel queasy.

It turned out, like everything, there was such a thing as a mana overdose. In the end, sleep won out—he didn't even hear Nora let out a hiccuping sob as she broke down crying.

Time passed and it felt like he'd blinked and suddenly he was awake again. His mouth tasted like something had made a nest and died in it, but a burst of [Cleanse] to the face made things right again. He groaned as he levered himself upright, scratching at his neck; exhaustion yet weighed heavily on his frame despite his sleep.

Arthur had been too tired to make bedding and slept on the leaf litter and as a result was a little itchy from the moisture getting inside of the wurm hide leather.

Blinking in confusion, Arthur found the colours a little washed out and then chuckled, laughter coming out as a croak as he realised that he had his goggles on. He unfastened them from his head and tousled his still wet hair. Maybe he hadn't slept for long? Then everything came back to him, and he gasped when he noticed one other person was not with him.

“Mastresse Nora?” Arthur called out, scrambling for the tent's flap.

Arthur ducked his head out and saw the dhampir seated on one of the gnarled roots. The woman had curled in on herself, listless. Tremors would wrack her frame as though she was trying not to breathe too hard. She didn’t turn when Arthur started walking towards her perch.

Wordlessly, Arthur picked his way through the deadfall as branches and leaves rustled and crunched underfoot. He jumped up the lower lying roots, wary of the slippery moss, and levered himself up the larger one with a grunt.

The closer he got, the clearer he could make out her anguish. Nora’s hands were clenched to the point they were paler than her skin, and her lips trembled in a cry that was being held back by sheer force of will. Her platinum blonde hair, wet and unbound, cascaded to the small of her back, messy and unkempt .

Arthur sighed and willed his duffel bag out of inventory. He had a towel or two inside, but they hadn’t seen much use. He rummaged through the bag, banishing it as soon as he had a towel in hand and draped it over her head.

Nora didn’t budge as Arthur worked the detritus free from her hair, but the trembling only intensified until she broke into full on hiccups as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. The dhampir reluctantly pulled away, but Arthur knew better. He pulled her into a hug under his chin.

The dhampir broke into gut-wrenching sobs and strangled whimpers. She weakly pawed against Arthur’s embrace, rocking enough for him to feel it at the front of his chest. Even as he drew soothing circles on her back, Arthur felt his own throat choke up with emotion as his heart went out to her. Nora was heartbroken.

Eventually, her silent cries gave way to hiccups.

”Are you alright ?” Arthur inquired.

“I don't know Master Arthur,” she murmured. “Things…things happened so fast.”

The rain had petered out to a drizzle now, and the top of the trees rustled, shaking down the water. Birds and critters rustled through the trees and the glade. The richness of wet loam hit his nostrils— The forest was alive.

Sitting beside the girl, he noticed that he towered over her. That or she seemed rather subdued and kind of slouchy in her posture. The girl leaned into her hands as she swung her legs over the roots. They watched the grass rustle as a zephyr blew.

“I am sorry about that Mastresse Nora,”Arthur said, as he watched some exotic bird with a varicolored tail like a pheasant fly overhead.

The canopy was too tall to even see the Humpbeast Ridges. Maybe they had landed further than he thought.

“Sometimes life happens whether we're ready or not,” he added, clenching his hands. The fury of everything that had happened so far was just about to hit him. It stuck fast in his throat like something bitter.

“I might have killed Livierre,” Nora trembled, meeting Arthur's gaze. Her cheeks had half dried streaks of tearlines.

“No one had planned for that—” Arthur said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “She forced your hand,” Arthur said, stressing his words with a grim countenance. Yet the thought of another life potentially lost to a disaster out of his hands did not make the feeling of taking it any easier.

Nora nodded glumly before she said,“You must have a lot of questions—”

“I am sure you do as well—” Arthur said. “But it'll go down better while we eat. I am starving…”

“I can track something down, Master Arthur—”

“Hey hey hey, none of that,” Arthur forestalled her. “And none of the master stuff,”

“Only if you stop addressing me similarly,” Nora said.

“How do you do then, Nora Iseline Angustifolia?” Arthur said teasingly. Nora smiled, her clouded countenance brightening a little as a faint blush came to her pale cheek.

“I don't even know your second name,” Nora snorted. “Or your third and fourth,” she said, peering at him narrowly.

“That's a pointed question isn't it?” Arthur groaned.

“Hmm,” Nora nodded. Arthur sighed, as he doffed the glove from his left hand. There was a faint scar between the palm creases.

Nodding he said,“ I have three names, and I also have two.”

He used [Cleanse] on his hand and after the tingling feeling and motes had disappeared, he willed one of his tupperware containers from [Inventory Chest]. It had sandwiches.

“Can you tell if I'm lying?” Arthur smirked.

“You're not,” Nora murmured as she eyed the sandwiches. Even after a couple of nundines, the mince steak was still warm—and diminishing in number too.

“And so, my name is Arthur Sturmdrache.” Arthur said smilingly. “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he added, motioning Nora to have a sandwich as he opened the covered tupperware.

”Tamarillos?” Nora mumbled as she made a face. She nonetheless bit into it and moaned in contention, blushing furiously when she realised what she'd just done. “and alliums.”

“See, they go together,” Arthur sniffed.

In the Dust, the hunted earned their names. Be it the equine esellope, four legged lopper of the wasteland plains, crypt crawlers, shamblers, wild humpbeast, skarglith, dusk wolves, even the occasional terror fowl.

Such was the way of the Djy’veli hunters. Any mark that earned their name through one clan would be known by that name by the other clans. It was a convention that was as old as the clans’ sojourn in the Dust. It was meant to ensure that hunting teams survived because, in the Dust, even prey could turn on you.

That human Arthur had earned his name. However much he wanted it known, Kervir could not proclaim it. No other clans were supposed to know of the human no matter how wroth Kervir was. All he could do however, was atone for his mistake for underestimating the human and for leaving Livierre to do the dirty work.

If he had been there, maybe Livierre would have been alive to witness the rain with them. Now? Her whereabouts were unknown, as were the human and Nora. Maybe the human had had a translocation artefact of some kind and had taken Livierre hostage for her betrayal. Admittedly, he too did not know Nora, the pure hearted dhampir must have seen their treachery and turned on them.

Clan Nightcrawler, as its clanhead had predicted, had gained more than it bargained for as a storm that roiled as far as the foot of the Humpbeast Ridges raged overhead. Perhaps that had been too over the top because part of the human’s magic had gone into the storm and culminated in a spinning gyre of dark clouds that lashed out with a watery rage that flooded the oasis.

Vegetation was uprooted and things suddenly moved around by some manner of translocation magic. Some humpbeasts were lost, as were the smaller mounts of terror fowl.

Yurts were suddenly teleported into the air. It was a disaster. The devastation would have been worse if the womenfolk had not been in the outer camp. Even the hunters on the dunes had noticed and broken away from their hunts to ride back to the oasis.

Kervir had done his due diligence to ensure that there was nothing at the control artifice that would incriminate their involvement. There was nothing left behind but Livierre’s bag of artifices; even her repeating crossbow was missing.

Then again, they had to get their story straight because the dwarves would no doubt come back and start asking questions. While Kervir was not adept in matters of subterfuge, it would not be hard for Venera to make it seem as though it was the human that had tampered with the dungeon.

And if Arkilius had not stopped him, Kervir would have gone after the human himself. But so far, he did not know where to start. Until Venera and the Clanhead came back, until Iyrakos the head of the hunt returned, he was to stay put and ensure that the rest of the clan was safe.

As he stood in the rain above the battered keep, wet hair clinging to his scalp and a split lip from a golem’s backhanded blow, Kervir vowed that he would not rest until he found Livierre and made sure the human died by his hands.