– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 216, Season of the Rising Moon, Day 66 –

A wrinkly, white-haired elf was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his eyes closed. A small layer of sand was pulsing around him. If Samuel or Brynn had been present, they would recognize him as Roy – one of the Guildheads that had helped looking for Terry.

“We have confirmed the information,” said Mia. “All of it. Everything leads back to the minister of the western-most district in Tiv’s north: Kipkoi, the one they call the Preacher.”

The sand that was pulsing around Roy’s silhouette abruptly tightened around him and then vanished into his body. Roy opened his eyes, which were burning with fury.

“Senior, what are your orders?” asked an elven man from the side.

“Mia, dear,” began Roy. “From now on, I’ll have to change my name again.”

Mia raised her eyebrows but did not interrupt.

Roy stood up. “It appears I’ll have to remind some people of my olden name.”

“Senior?” Another elven man raised his chin with anticipation. “You mean that?”

“Send an invitation to our old acquaintances,” ordered Roy. “And send a blood warning to the Guild in Tiv. Sign it with ‘Weran’. Guild management there should still be able to find that name.

“From now on, there will be blood,” growled Weran. “Spread the word that the Tiv Empire will fall for what they have done. A year from now, there won’t be a Tiv Empire on the map anymore. The magic sovereigns and the Arcanian army may have their hands full with blocking the Wastes, but that does not apply to all the mages and Guild members that chose Arcana as their home.

“Gather the dimensional mages,” ordered Weran. “I’ll invite the younger generation myself.” Weran retrieved a dark green cloak which emitted an eerie aura. He swung it around his shoulders. “It’s time to hunt again.”

***

Terry took a sip of mana-imbued tea while he was waiting for Miguel on the training grounds. After the scare with Tiana, they had settled into a new routine. They went into the dungeon every second day to collect mana cores. The remaining days, they met up on the training grounds to spar and train. They paid a visit to Tiana and Elena during their breaks.

Terry was glad that Lori and Jorg had calmed down after their first dungeon dive and the subsequent night. He reserved his late evenings for his spellwork and mana crafting. He chose to spend his mornings on other topics.

Early every morning, Terry followed the same training routine. First, the special training room that assaulted him with various spells and effects. Second, the divine hammer inscription, which included both the inscription handling and his new movement practice in which Terry summoned junk items from his anklet storage and transfixed them to jump in the air. During the exercise, Terry siphoned all excess mana into mana containers.

The collected mana was useful for his third regimen that consisted of improving his disruption pulse which was based on the mana vortex compression idea. By now, Terry was able to unleash a spiraling version of a disruption discharge that was actually able to disrupt mana and he could even do so while moving.

Unfortunately, It still takes too long to prepare and the spell slicers’ trajectories are less predictable…

Even though Terry was outright ecstatic that the idea had finally transformed into something workable, he was far from satisfied with the current version.

While practicing his discharges, Terry always attempted to reclaim his discharged mana, which helped his mana reach training as well as enabled him to practice for longer without pause because he did not have to wait to regenerate additional mana.

Once his mana pool had bottomed out, Terry switched to practicing spear and dagger techniques while using the continuously changing mana pool level as a challenge for his mana cloaking. Terry had been very happy with the way that the mana cloaking practice could be integrated into his other activities. It was pretty easy to practice cloaking even while doing the dishes, for Terry at least.

Up next on the agenda was resistance training.

“Huaam, morning Terry,” greeted Miguel. “You’ve been up long?”

“Not longer than usual,” replied Terry casually.

“Uh-huh…” Miguel rubbed his eyes and yawned again. “Are you with us fire-victims again today? Or will you switch to Tiana’s lightning group later?”

“All types of fire today,” replied Terry while trying to hide a grimace at the pain looming in his near future. “Chadwick said I can also join whenever he is personally instructing Tiana for lightning resistance.”

“Ahh, I see, no bill for that instruction round, right?” Miguel nodded in understanding. “More contribution points left to spend on weird item ideas. How are those going by the way?”

“Collecting dust mostly,” said Terry wryly. “Many are, uhh, more destructive than feels appropriate when trying to collect mana cores.”

Also not that useful against ethereal aspect beings. Terry frowned inwardly.

“Perhaps, we can squeeze in a regular old mana corrupted hunt,” proposed Miguel. “Perhaps something tasty.”

Terry paused and jerked his head. “Weird, what the…”

“Huh?” Miguel raised an eyebrow. “What’s with you?”

“Hundreds of mana signatures are gathering in front of the Guild building,” replied Terry curiously.

***

“The Council and the army are busy protecting Arcana, but what about ensuring that the culprits will be punished?” bellowed Weran.

Terry and Miguel arrived in front of the Guild. Terry looked around and recognized the mana signatures of his friends and his family members among the crowd that was still growing by the minute.

“If a rabid dog bites, then you smack it,” roared Weran. “And you must be swift if it is to learn its lesson. Our government feels compelled to uphold their noble dignity, but I, for one, do not.” He glared at the crowd. “If our government is busy, then it is on us to swiftly teach a memorable lesson.”

“Even if what you said is true…”

Terry heard the voice of Samuel. Samuel stood together with Brynn and a few other Academy mages.

“...then it was the decision of a single minister and his allies,” stressed Samuel. “Tiv’s ordinary citizens did not choose this.”

“But they chose their government!” retorted Weran coldly. “They chose this minister. They granted him power. They made the wrong choice.” His eyes did not contain any shred of sympathy. “Now, the only choice they’ll be given is to seek asylum elsewhere or perish.”

“On my name.” Weran forced his words through gritted teeth: “Tiv. Will. Fall.”

Weran moved his gaze over the crowd. “Our fellow citizens of Arcana did not ‘choose’ this either, did they?” He spat on the floor. “And yet at this very moment, they are dying all over the north and Arcana’s earth is being drenched with their blood.”

“Tiv did this.” Weran glared at the crowd. “Tiv plotted against our barrier. I have had it with that dogshit country! In the past, Arcana chose the high road by isolating itself instead of crushing the traitorous empire.” Weran’s voice had dropped even lower than before. “No more. Now, there will be blood.”

“This is my home,” roared Weran. “Arcana is our home.” He gestured at the people with him. “When the Lich Kingdoms rose, it was Arcana that stood in their path.” Weran’s eyes turned bloodshot. “It was Arcana that fought to protect innocent lives. While the other empires were still busy with their schemes and power squabbles, Arcana fought their battle for them.”

Weran inhaled deeply. “When my village was attacked, it was not our Elusian Empire that came to our rescue. No, it was a magic sovereign of Arcana that took up the fight for us.”

“When the Wastes arrived and the Elusian Empire decided to abandon this realm and to retreat back to the native elven realm, I chose to stay,” bellowed Weran. “I chose Arcana as my home. I joined Arcana’s Guild and volunteered to move with the army.

“I bled to protect innocent lives within their borders.” Weran’s fists were shaking. “How dare they attack my home?! HOW DARE THEY?!”

Terry glanced at the silenced Samuel. He could see Brynn putting a hand on Samuel’s shoulder and shaking her head.

“I fought next to the Valkyrie,” roared Weran. “I was there when the traitorous king bowed to the lich kingdom’s envoy and stabbed the Valkyrie and our cause in the back. I was there when Tivius’s mongrels allied with the Lich Kingdoms.” Weran spat on the floor in disgust. “When they decided to abandon those conquered to enshrine their own new empire. I saw the bastard’s self-satisfied grin when he tried to force Hope’s hand believing that she would not go against her new king.”

“BAH!” Weran laughed madly. “Little did the bastard know that there was still one person with honor among his people. The Valkyrie sticking to her principles was the last time I felt true respect for anyone in Tiv.”

“Hope was the glue that kept everyone working together,” muttered Weran with a sad shake of his head. “When the Valkyrie was proclaimed dead, the last shred of honor in those lands died with her. These cowardly dogs even stabbed Arcana in the back by leaking our positions to the Lich Kingdoms.”

Terry involuntarily gasped. He had never heard that part before.

“I gladly fought next to the Valkyrie…” Weran silently uttered while recollecting the past. Then, Weran clenched his fists and roared: “But after everything these curs had done, all that was left was hate and resentment.”

“Arcana’s isolation was a show of mercy by the magic sovereigns,” roared Weran. “Those like me only held back out of respect for the sovereigns.”

A heavy silence fell for a breath’s time.

“They want to poke the sleeping dragon?!” demanded Weran. “They want us back in the fight?!” Weran grinned menacingly. “Then we’ll start by paying back debts old and new alike. They dare threaten Arcana?!” Weran’s eyes turned beastly. “They will face our wrath!”

“Everyone that wants to bring the fight back to Tiv, we’ll get you there,” shouted Mia. She was standing next to Weran. She gestured to the dimensional mages at her side. “Free of charge.”

“You should stick to the heartland,” said Weran coldly. His voice was only loud enough for the dimensional mages to hear. “They want to pass the Wastes around? Let’s see who will win that game. Let’s see what prize awaits them.”

Weran turned back to the crowd. “Overmorrow, we’ll show them the prize for threatening our home.” His face contorted in a menacing smile. “If you’re impatient and believe yourselves capable enough to act alone, we can send you over even earlier than that.”

Could the Preacher really have been…? Terry was still processing all that he had just heard. Two words repeatedly surfaced in his mind: Stupid. Zealot.

“Terry,” a voice jolted Terry out of his thoughts. He noticed himself surrounded by Miguel, Samuel, Brynn, Tiana, and Chadwick.

“Huh?” Terry blinked. “Pardon, what?”

“You met this Minister Kipkoi, right?” asked Samuel.

“Yeah…” Terry furrowed his brow.

“Does this seem in-character to you?” asked Samuel.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” grumbled Brynn. “Bloody Tiv. Even after leaving their mana-forsaken empire, they still drag everyone down and—”

“My life, please,” interjected Samuel and put an arm around Brynn. He explained for Terry: “They’ve made the information on which they are basing their judgement available to everyone at the Guild.”

“And the dimensional mages have already confirmed it,” added Brynn with suppressed anger. “They dare to—” She stopped herself when she felt the hand of her life’s chosen rubbing her shoulder and sighed. “Haah…”

“I just want to know Whaka Terry’s opinion,” said Samuel. “After all, I’m not in a position to confirm the information myself.”

“It’s…” Terry recollected the attitudes of Kipkoi and Ava. The way Ava had sneered at the barrier in Syn City. The way that…

He suddenly recalled the Preacher’s words on stupidity. ‘A powerful empire that refuses to join the fight against the Wastes.’ He had not paid much attention at the time, because he had already been ticked off by the examples for alleged stupidity that had referred to his aunts.

Terry frowned. “I think it’s very in-character.” He looked at Samuel. “If the Preacher was able to destroy the barrier, he definitely would have chosen to do so.”

Samuel inhaled sharply and shook his head. He sighed and then kissed Brynn on the cheek to calm himself. This time, it was Brynn that rubbed Samuel’s shoulder.

“What will happen now?” asked Terry. “I…” He remembered his friends and acquaintances that were still in the Tiv Empire. “There are good people in Tiv.”

“I understand holding the Preacher and his ilk accountable, but…” Terry shook his head. “It did not sound as if they would stop there.”

“Will people really follow that elf’s call to arms?” interjected Miguel. “If this would be an assassination mission or, I don’t know, kidnapping the responsible government officials, I would get it. But unleashing indiscriminate vengeance?” Miguel looked at the older people in their circle. “Will people sign up for this?”

Samuel sighed while Brynn and Chadwick nodded.

“I have to admit that my anger definitely gained the upper hand during Roy— during Weran’s speech,” said Brynn with a glance at Samuel. “This is my chosen home. It took me nearly all I had to get here and build the life I wished for. I’ll be damned if I let someone threaten...” She emitted a low growl.

After a deep breath, Brynn looked at Miguel. “Weran had a point. It is the duty of Tiv’s citizens to hold their government accountable. The Preacher may have been the one to sabotage our barrier, but do you truly believe that those that have voted him into office are unrelated?”

Samuel made a bitter expression.

“Lizzy once said that they don’t get much choice though,” muttered Terry. “That some factions have a stranglehold on everything and that not everyone has a chance to be put on the ballot.”

“Those factions have not come into power for nothing,” retorted Brynn with suppressed anger. “And no stranglehold could survive a strong opposition from the citizens.” Brynn shook her head. “Either they approve or they don’t really care about the lives in Arcana. If it’s the former, then they deserve what’s coming to them. If it’s the latter, then someone has to teach them to care.”

Terry recalled a conversation between Sigille and Willow on the ability of people to change: ‘Even those that can, they rarely do so without giving them a good reason.’

“Back when I was still in Tiv, magic restrictions were not unpopular,” said Brynn with a resentful tone. “Although most of the supporters were the people that had no big need for and no interest in magic to begin with – save inside the capital, where they’ll get privileged access to magic items.”

“The dimensional mages did not specifically mention the capital.” Tiana pointed out.

“True.” Brynn shook her head. “I don’t know. I know that my anger is getting the best of me, but it’s so damned frustrating.”

“The Preacher is actually elected in an outer district,” said Terry. “Mostly due to his support to reestablish patrols in the Wasted Zone and perhaps his position on integrating channelers into society…” Terry furrowed his brow. “Although the latter was strongly related to his stance against magic liberties, I guess.”

“I still can’t help but feel that this is the natural conclusion of Tiv’s treatment of magic,” said Brynn resentfully. “They feel entitled to mages serving them. It is only natural that their view extends to the Empire of Magic. I expect that many see nothing wrong with forcing Arcana’s mana users into the fight against the Wastes. In their mind, this is only as it should be.

“Magic obliges, bah.” Brynn sighed deeply. “Anyway, I can see a lot of people signing up.”

“Same here,” said Chadwick. “I even expect some of my comrades to follow Weran.”

“What?!” Miguel was shocked.

“No offense, but you all have no idea about the devastation in the north,” said Chadwick somberly. He shook his head and inhaled slowly. “Yes, a soldier should show more restraint than to enact revenge, but after…” He glanced at Tiana at his side. “There are many among my comrades whom I cannot blame for their actions.”

Chadwick shook his head once more with a distant look in his eyes. “If Tiana had done mission work further in the north, if Terry or Matteo had not made it in time, if something had happened to her as a result of all this, then I…” Chadwick clenched his giant fist. “Then I, too, might stand in line to crush the Tiv Empire.”

***

In the evening, Terry and his siblings were walking back from the training grounds when they heard a loud howl of fury and frustration.

“What…?” Jorg’s mouth stood agape.

“Didn’t that sound like…?” Lori looked at Terry and Jorg.

Terry stared into the direction of the sound. “Aunt Brynn’s mana signature is back there, but she appears to be running to the Academy now.”

The three immediately dashed to pursue her, but they were abruptly stopped when a figure passed them. “““Pa?”””

Bjorln’s eyes were swollen and red. His mana channels were clearly visible and strained beyond their limits. He did not break his run to greet his children. He was running towards the Guardian facilities at full speed.

“He must have seen us, right?” muttered Jorg. “What’s going on?”

“He appears to be going to the alchemy lab,” muttered Terry with a pale face. “The storage.”

“I’ll go to Pa,” said Lori. “You check with—”

“Uncle Samuel is rushing towards us, I think,” interjected Terry.

Samuel’s eyes were red and his chest heaved with deep, difficult breaths. “I need to talk to you three.”

“What’s going on?” asked Lori in a quivering voice. “You’re scaring me.”

“It’s…” Samuel hesitated and took another deep breath. “It’s about your ma.”

Terry’s stomach felt as if it had collapsed into itself.

“Whaka Isille has been touched by a reaper,” said Samuel and winced with a look full of pain.

“Wh-what does that mean?” stammered Jorg. “Where is Ma?”

Lori’s lips parted but no sound escaped while she shook her head disbelievingly.

Terry felt the blood rush to his head and a sharp tone was ringing in his ears. Among the three siblings, he was the one most familiar with the death aura curse and its creatures. He had heard of the terror that was a reaper.

Terry still saw through his eyes and heard everyone’s voices, but he felt as if he was standing beside himself. As if he was merely an outside observer. As if this was not real.

This can’t be real. Not… Not again.

Tears entered Terry’s eyes and he clenched his fists.

“Whaka Isille is currently being brought to the Academy, because that’s where the best available healer is located,” said Samuel wearily.

“C-can we see her?” asked Jorg.

“No,” replied Samuel. “Whaka Isille is unconscious and…”

…she is unlikely to ever wake up. Terry knew which words were left unsaid.

“When will she get better?” asked Lori in what was almost a whisper.

Terry flinched at the ‘when’ in the question, because he knew that this was… Wishful thinking again… Terry shook his head slightly while his fingers dug into his palms.

“Fortunately, we have an excellent healer at the Academy,” said Samuel in an almost pathetic attempt to sound cheerful.

“When?” Terry could hear his own voice before he realized that his mouth had moved. “When did it happen?”

Samuel lowered his head, because he realized the reason for the question. He grimaced when he looked at Terry. “Almost two days ago. Whaka Bjorln and Whaka Isille were helping in evacuating a city when a part of what must have been a huge horde appeared out of nowhere. One of the liches must have learned some kind of transfer spell.”

Terry had not heard anything after ‘two days ago.’ He felt as if the temperature had dropped a dozen degrees.

“Whaka Brynn is preparing an inscribed chamber that will hopefully help slow down the reaper’s mark,” continued Samuel.

‘Slow down.’ Not stop… Terry involuntarily flinched again.

“Pa must have an idea!” exclaimed Lori. “He ran to the alchemy lab.”

Samuel lowered his head again before mustering the resolve to speak. “Whaka Bjorln has an idea, yes. A potion, but…” Samuel slowly shook his head. “He can tell you himself. First, we need to get Whaka Isille’s condition stabilized.”

Terry raised his head and stared at Samuel. He had never known Samuel to lie. It sounded as if there really was a viable idea and yet there was something in Samuel’s tone that Terry could not place.

A reaper’s touch that had been placed almost two days ago… Terry could not recall ever having heard a proper way to heal a victim in this scenario. He was desperately hoping that it was simply due to his own ignorance.

Terry became aware that there was blood in his mouth. At some point, he must have bit his tongue or the inside of his cheek.

‘Now, there will be blood.’

The words Terry had heard earlier on this very same day were echoing in his mind over and over again.

‘Now, there will be blood.’

***