Millennial Mage

Tala looked around in a panic, her mind both refusing to accept the loss of her arm and refusing to accept that it was already back.

Her eyes swept across the combat going on around her. The temporary pause caused by the juggernaut’s rage-filled cry hadn’t lasted.

My arm is gone…

Tala’s arm was fully regrown.

I’ve…I’ve lost my arm.

Her inscriptions had returned the limb completely back to full functionality.

She forced herself, mechanically, to run and check on the guard who had taken the remainder of the blow.

The blow that took…my…arm…

With her augmented strength, she easily pulled the massive glaive from his chest, allowing him to fall free of the wagon as she almost absentmindedly slid the weapon into Kit.

She checked his pulse unnecessarily. He had no heart left, a vertical slit punched cleanly through his sternum and spine.

She stared down, the visage of a cat’s eye seeming to stare up from the wound.

Would he have survived if I took the blow?

He was dead; she should turn her focus elsewhere.

Could I have saved him, for the simple price of some inscriptions to heal myself?

It was not the time for deep introspection. More guards might be dying around her.

Her head snapped up at that. Protect now, think later.

She quickly lunged between several different individual engagements, giving aid where it might not have been strictly necessary, but where it would free up a guard to go help others.

After a few such interventions, her eyes moved over to where the juggernaut had fallen, only about three hundred yards away, behind the retreating wagons.

Like light from heaven, a beam of sunlight came through the trees and canopy at her back, lancing out, highlighting the helmet among the fallen vegetative matter. An irregular circle of the forest floor, a splash zone, was still lightly sizzling from the gushing outpouring of the Leshkin’s demise.

I could combine that armor with my elk-leathers. That would be an incredible defensive resource.

She took a step towards her spoils.

A guard screamed in pain nearby. She needed to protect the caravan.

But, that would be so useful! Even if I can’t meld its form and magics with my clothing, I could sell it for SO MUCH!

Her eyes found the wounded guardswoman, and Tala moved that way, throwing Flow into her opponent’s head before pulling it back to her hand. It wasn’t a lethal blow to the Leshkin but the guardswoman used the momentary reprieve and distraction to finish off the beast herself.

I need to get that armor.

Tala turned, taking one step in that direction, still feeling disoriented.

Her arm was before her, laying on the ground. Somehow, her zig-zagging and overlapping path had brought her back to the limb.

Trying not to look at it, she picked it up and immediately stuck it into Kit. I’ll deal with that later. I need to get that armor. NOW.

She took another half step, stumbling as she warred within herself.

What was she doing? The caravan needed her. Her post, her job, her obligations lay behind her.

But that armor would be so useful! She felt blood flickering around the edges of the thought. She shouldn’t be short on blood; her inscriptions were designed to maintain optimum blood volume. What’s going on?

She shook her head. She wanted the armor, but she needed to stay with the caravan.

Hesitantly, reluctantly, she turned her back on the wealth, neatly piled in the woods.

She had a job to do.

* * *

The caravan made it to the draw-down line at around sunset, fighting mostly lesser Leshkin and warriors along the way. Though, there had been occasional knights sprinkled through the other ranks.

Tala had been rotated back to the top of the cargo-wagon, and she absently noted that Mistress Odera was watching her more closely than usual.

Tala still felt twinges from her right arm that she knew were purely mental. My arm is in perfect health.

The back of her hand felt naked, even after the reapplication of iron-salve. There was not even a single ring for her Crush and Restrain spell-workings to implement.

They reached the draw-down line that Mistress Odera had referenced, and Tala took in the world around her, looking more closely.

The power in the air picked up speed, moving much more quickly towards Makinaven, still out of sight through the trees ahead.

She felt her gaze move downward, even as the last of the attacking Leshkin were being finished off by the rear-guard.

In the ground, beneath their feet, was an absolutely impossible-to-differentiate tangle of roots. Yet, somehow, she could feel that throughout all the tendrils of these great trees, existed the influence of something greater.

Is it a bigger tree nearby, or something else? She couldn’t tell, and if she were being honest, she found it hard to care.

What am I going to do with my arm? She could burn it, to retrieve the gold from the inscriptions that hadn’t been active when the limb had been separated.

In her perfectly healed shoulder, there were an unhealthy number of spell-form bits, ending at a jagged line, showing her exactly where her arm had regrown from.

She’d examined those remnants and didn’t think they were valid spell-forms, but she meticulously kept every hint of power away from them, nonetheless. Given that she didn’t know what they would do, they shouldn’t activate, but she wasn’t going to risk losing her arm. Not again.

Turning around, she felt an odd sense of disconnect in the suddenly silent forest.

The guards rarely yelled while fighting, and the Leshkin’s only sound was their horrifying screech, which they didn’t seem to use very often. The result had been a day filled, mainly, with sounds of grunting and physical strain, coupled with noises usually associated with the wood-cutting trade.

And the sound of tearing flesh.

And if a guard was just unlucky enough, the screams resulting from sizzling, burning injuries.

Tala shook her head. No, it’s not time to consider that.

Mistress Odera looked up at her, from her seat near the back of the wagon. “Mistress Tala?”

“Hmm?”

“You seem…lost. Come, sit with me.”

Tala obeyed. Why not?

“I received the reports about your arm. I am glad to see it back in working order. Is everything alright?”

Tala looked down at her right arm, whole and hale. “It seems to be functioning just fine.”

“And how are you?”

Her gaze returned to the older woman. “They seem able to bypass my defenses…”

Mistress Odera nodded. “Your inscriptions aren’t designed towards invincibility, correct?”

“Well, no.”

“That is why you also have the regeneration spell-forms?”

“That’s right.”

After a moment’s consideration, Mistress Odera smiled softly. “You’ve never taken such an injury, have you?”

Tala shook her head.

“It can be disorienting.” The older woman was nodding again. “And to have the limb restored, before you’ve had time to really process the loss? That must have made it much worse.”

“Why? I’ve not lost anything, not really. Why do I feel that I have?”

“When I was very young, my eldest sister lost her husband. At that time and place, a woman of her station couldn’t be unmarried for long without complications. So, she immediately remarried, this time to her deceased husband’s brother.” Mistress Odera gave Tala a meaningful look. “His identical twin brother.”

Tala frowned. “That would have been… confusing.”

“Quite. Whenever she looked at her husband, she knew he was there, knew he was her husband, but she also saw the one she’d lost. They were identical in almost every way. She hadn’t even been married to the first for very long, and it had been a union of convenience.” Mistress Odera snorted a laugh. “She’d actually liked this second brother more, but he had been less favored by his own family at the time, so she’d been united with the other.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“She never let herself truly process the loss. It felt like a figment to her mind, and therefore, unworthy of consideration.”

“Sounds unhealthy.”

“Precisely.”

Tala grunted out a breath. “What do you suggest?”

“Take time to consider the pain you experienced, and what it would have meant for you.”

“What the first casualty on this route is going through right now.”

“The young man who you saved by cutting off his arm?”

Does she really see it that way? It was true, Tala supposed. “That’s the one.”

“Yes, that might be wise. I don’t want you wallowing in that place.” Mistress Odera tsked. “That would be horrible in a different way, but you cannot become desensitized to such injuries. They cannot be meaningless, and your body knows this. That is likely a part of your current state.”

Tala found herself nodding as she stood. “Thank you. I will do what I can.” She glanced back the way they’d come. “But right now, I should focus. Why are the Leshkin attacks stopping?”

Mistress Odera looked up at her, seeming to consider. After a moment, the Mage shrugged, apparently accepting the change in topic. “I assume you don’t mean ‘what changed?’ ”

“Correct. I can see what changed, and I remember you stating that they would turn back at this line. But why? They attack deep into the plains often enough. The open plains have less magic than here.”

“Then, that is an excellent question, to which I do not have an answer.”

Tala huffed a laugh and smiled. “That’s fair, I suppose. Do you know what causes the change?”

“Yes. Makinaven is built in the great tree of this region.”

Tala was nodding. “Yeah, I read about that. I imagined that it just meant it was more like a massive treehouse, network of such structures, or some similar thing. Bridges going between various high up platforms among the trees. How does that answer the question?”

Mistress Odera gave her a long look. “Not ‘trees,’ Mistress Tala. ‘Tree.’ ”

Tala hesitated. What? She thought over what she’d read and what Mistress Odera had just said. Makinaven resides within the great tree of this region. The city was in a tree, not trees. Her eyes widened. “Wait. There’s a tree bigger than these?” She hesitated. “Well, of course one tree has to be ‘the biggest,’ and the chances of it being one of these is basically zero. That’s not what I meant. I mean there’s one larger to the point of being considered the singular ‘great tree?’ ”

“For this region, yes. It is a beautiful thing, and we have built within it.”

“How does that work with the different defensive rings?”

Mistress Odera smiled. “I think it would be easier for you to see it, before a full explanation, but the simple answer is that some of the city’s stages are not within the tree, and it is the only great tree within the city proper.”

“Ahh, yeah, that would do it.” Tala smiled, feeling her tension slowly ease. “Will we be making camp, soon?”

“Soon, I think, yes.”

Tala considered for a long moment. “Did your sister really marry twins, one after the other?”

“Does the truth of the story change its utility?”

Tala laughed. “No, I suppose not.” She hesitated. “In case you didn’t know, my two quickest offensive spells are no longer available to me.”

Mistress Odera cocked an eyebrow at that. “I did not know, though I suppose I could have intuited.” She cursed. “Well, we shouldn’t face anything else that needs such a heavy hit on this last leg.”

“We logged the juggernaut kill, right?”

Mistress Odera grinned widely. “Of course, my dear. You’ll be paid for that.”

“How much should I expect?”

Mistress Odera considered. “You’ll be getting roughly twenty-five percent of the payout to the Mage protectors, equivalent to me, with that one exception boosting your portion. Master Rane was much more active and used far more of his inscriptions on this route.”

Tala almost protested, but as she thought about it, she realized that Mistress Odera was correct. “About how much do you think that payout will be?”

“Well, I don’t know the conditional rates, currently. There will be slight penalties for the delays, and we will be paying out our portion of the death benefits for those that died in defense of the caravan and assisting with the costs to heal those who were beyond my skill, but all told, those shouldn’t be overmuch. As to the reward: Two hundred ounces, gold? That’s probably an over-estimate, though.”

Tala’s eyes widened in shock.

“Total, dear, not to you.”

“Still, that means that my portion, as Mage protector, will be around fifty gold ounces.” I got into the wrong game, being a dimensional Mage. Then, she thought about how she could have been tucked in the wagon, safe, warm, and well fed while other people fought around her. She also considered her expenses as a Mage protector.

She would need all of her rings replaced, along with the accompanying scripts, and that would be a minimum of five gold. Probably a lot more…

She suspected that Holly had been giving her a steep discount, in consideration for her financial state, and her ability to take Holly’s…oddities.

I’ll need to get them redone in Makinaven… She scrunched her face. “I’m going to need a really good inscriber.”

Mistress Odera nodded. “You don’t have a slate, so you probably don’t know: Mistress Holly has a list of inscribers, one in each city that she…” Mistress Odera seemed to hesitate. After a brief pause, she shook her head and continued. “Inscribers that she said she would allow to do any needed touch-ups.” She sighed. “There is a list of things that she will, and will not, allow each to work on.”

Tala frowned. “Can she really do that?”

“Well, no, she can’t stop you, nor any inscriber, from completing a legal transaction. Effectively, though? Absolutely.”

“I think I understand, but can you lay it out for me?”

Mistress Odera quirked an amused smile. “She is, first and foremost, a frontrunner in the field of inscriptions and inscribing. Her inventions and discoveries are used in every city, by nearly every inscriber, even if not on every Mage they inscribe. She can easily cut one of the inscribers off, and they will be reticent to anger her. She could also refuse to work on you, if you do find someone who can and will do the work. From what I can see, there is no other inscriber in Bandfast who could work with most of your schema, and I’d bet my last copper that there is much more that I can’t see.”

“Fair enough. Don’t anger your inscriptionist. They have proven able to stab something ten thousand times with horrifying precision.”

Mistress Odera gave her a long look. “You think in some very unusual ways.”

“Ahh… Sure… So! Who can I go see in Makinaven?”

Mistress Odera pulled out a slate, her fingers flying over the surface. “It looks like…Master Hawthorne. Oh! I’ve worked with him. He’s very professional, skilled, and reasonably priced.” She was nodding. “I believe that he touched up my scripts last time I was through this area. He’s a busy fellow, though.”

“Good to know. Will you be going to him, this trip?”

She thought about it for a moment. “I think that would be a reasonable choice, yes. I could get back without issue, but it never hurts to be careful. I’ll happily go with you.”

Well, that was transparent of me… She decided to lean into it. “Thank you.”

Tala was looking at Mistress Odera when she saw the older woman’s eyes widen in shock, her hand coming up in slow motion.

That was Tala’s only warning.

It wasn’t enough.

* * *

A pulse of power exploded from the base of Tala’s skull, and she returned to consciousness, violently.

…Just in time to slam into one of the massive trees.

* * *

A second pulse of magic exploded from the base of Tala’s skull, and she returned to consciousness, hesitantly.

She was surrounded by broken, splintered greenwood.

Tala groaned, pushing herself toward her right, the direction that felt more clear of obstructions. Splinters longer than her arm scraped against her, fighting with the elk-leathers. Blessedly, none had succeeded in piercing her body.

A shiver ran through her from head to toe, and a sense akin to her mage-sight picked up the signature of what had awoken her: It had been the silver inscription, set to watch for any loss of consciousness not due to falling asleep.

Did it bring me back once already? I didn’t know it could do so in quick succession… It made sense, though.

-DING- The all too familiar sound, almost like a bell, hummed through her thoughts, and she found the note calming.

She felt herself relax, slightly. I am protected.

Then, her own voice came to her as if she were thinking, without being her own thoughts.

-Consciousness lost for 0.01 seconds due to heavy impact and whiplash of dura-matter within the cranium. Unconsciousness was the mind’s natural defense. Neurochemical cocktail utilized for near instantaneous resuscitation.-

-DING-

-Error, secondary loss of consciousness mid-cycle.-

-Secondary unconsciousness caused by heavy impact with a hard, fibrous material. Consciousness lost as a result of simultaneous activation of all head defenses, washing the brain in energy. Defenses have now returned to a normal level, allowing standard mental operations.-

-Critical note: Sequential losses of consciousness are ill-advised.-

-System recommendation: Consider the acquisition of an empowered helmet.-

-No lasting effects detected, despite predictive models.-

-Log complete.-

Tala groaned, trying to ignore her inscription’s sass. I really need to talk with Holly about that…

She pushed her head free of the tree, in which she’d been embedded, and her ears were assaulted by the rhythmic cadence of crossbow fire.

The day had been such that they’d increased the number of guards on duty in that role. They were firing as quickly as they could, but it didn’t seem to have much effect.

Tala was high above the ground, nearly halfway up the trunk of a tree some three or four hundred yards from the caravan. The forest was mostly clear between her and the slow-moving wagons, and as such, she had a perfect view of what was happening.

A juggernaut stood beside and just in front of the cargo-wagon, seemingly having stepped from behind a tree as they passed.

It must have hit me with something like an uppercut to send me up here.

It held a massive tower shield, easily fifteen feet in height and brimming with reinforcing power. The shield was between it and the bowmen.

The cargo-wagon was surrounded by Mistress Odera’s signature defensive shield, and the Leshkin juggernaut was slamming its empty fist into the protective barrier, sending rippling waves crashing across the surface.

Rane was standing beside the wagon, trapped within the protection, unable to get out.

The guards who were outside seemed reasonably hesitant about engaging the giant.

Tala, still a bit frazzled, brought up her right hand, first two fingers extended upward, her ring finger and pinky tucked down, all four pressed together, palm pointed towards the Leshkin juggernaut and her thumb tucked in tight. She channeled magic into the activation and-

The magic sparked within her shoulder, hitting the end of the broken inscription lines and searing through her.

She clamped her mouth down against a scream, even as she stopped the flow of power and her regenerative inscriptions dealt with the damage.

Stupid! I can’t use Crush.

She had to do it the slow way. Her left middle finger touched her thumb, and she locked onto the Leshkin.

Before she even began to increase its effective gravity, the head whipped towards her, seemingly bottomless eye sockets locking onto her. The shriek that issued forth caused the caravan oxen to stumble and sent even Rane to his knees clutching at his ears.

The beast vaulted over the still protected cargo-wagon, obviously intent upon Tala.

Well. That’s one way to protect the caravan.