Millennial Mage

Tala looked around at the surrounding lands on this, western side of Makinaven. She’d not been out this gate, so it was all new. Even so, it was pretty much the same as out the other gates: farmland, orchards, and more odious industries, such as tanning.

As the caravan continued away from Makinaven, crossing through those fertile lands, Zakrias turned the conversation to her. “So…what can you do?”

Tala hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. He was fairly open. There’s probably no harm in responding in kind. “I’m mostly aimed at being magically reinforced and self-healing.”

His eyes twinkled with barely contained mirth. “So, you just take beatings?”

She gave him a half-glare. “Hardly. Offensively, I manipulate gravity.”

He seemed a bit disappointed, his expression clearly falling. “Oh, an area of affect, support fighter then.”

“Hardly.” Tala grinned at the Archon.

He perked up at that. “Oh?”

“I work on individual targets, manipulating their gravity as it relates to specific other things.”

He frowned. “That’s not how…” He shook his head and laughed. “Never mind. Who am I to say how your magic should work?” After a moment’s consideration, he regarded her critically. “How are you at opposed casting?”

“I honestly haven’t practiced it really at all.” She scrunched her face in irritation at the admission. “I’ve been meaning to practice, but just haven’t had the time.”

He grinned. “I’ll bet you a silver that I can cool your left hand to an uncomfortable degree faster than you can force me to drop mine.” He extended his left hand at his shoulder height.

Cool? Ahh, he’s able to manipulate kinetic energy on a level to affect the heat-energy of something. That would require incredibly fine control.

I wonder if Rane’s defenses would counter incoming fire by moving out of the way, or by cooling the area before it was affected, to counter the incoming heat? Probably worth asking. She hesitated. No, he’s a Creator, he can’t cool an area that way…right?

Her eyes flicked back to Zakrias’ face. Right, talking to someone else. She quickly flicked her thoughts over what he’d said. “How will we determine ‘uncomfortable?’ ”

He shrugged. “When you say so. If you can keep enduring it, it isn’t uncomfortable enough to count.”

“That’s not exactly fair.”

He shrugged again. “If you don’t want to wager-”

She shook her head, cutting him off. “No, not fair to you.”

He hesitated, then barked a laugh. “I like you! Let’s make it a gold.”

“No, no. A silver is fine. This should be interesting.” Tala touched her left middle finger to her thumb unobtrusively, focusing on the man’s hand, getting ready to target it.

“Mistress Odera, would you give us a ‘go’ signal?”

The older woman shrugged, clearly focused on things other than the conversation between the two Archons. “Go.”

Zakrias twitched his right hand, and his soul bound cord flicked out, connecting with the back of her left hand.

Tala locked the mental image of his hand in place and targeted it. The hand began to glow in her sight. Got you.

Increase. There was incredibly heavy resistance to her enactment, but she gritted her teeth and bore down.

If her normal workings on inanimate objects were like blowing against a feather to move it across a table, this was like blowing on a lead ball. Not wholly ineffective but frustrating to an incredible degree.

Zakrias, for his part, was frowning even as Tala felt a building pressure and heat on the back of her hand.

Iron salve for the win! She grinned.

“That is a fascinating defense. It’s like my power is struggling to catch hold to even start contesting you.”

“Give up?”

A smile grew across his features. “Hardly.”

The resulting contest of wills was incredibly boring from the outside. For all intents and purposes, they were each simply staring at the other’s hand.

Even so, the internal struggle was intense. Why is this so hard? Shouldn’t it either succeed or fail?

No, that wasn’t right. She had to use her magical weight to impose her will, her working, onto a resisting target. I’m not doing that, though.

Effectively, she was tossing out the spell-working at her target, and simply adding more umph behind that toss in the hopes of making it take effect.

Yeah, that’s not right. I don’t want to enact and leave the working to its own devices; I want to make sure it takes hold.

But how?

Zakrias’ face broke into a broad grin. “There!” The iron salve was still interfering with his working, but he’d worn through enough to begin affecting her, and suddenly his will crashed into hers. He grunted, his smile slipping.

Tala felt the strain of his will, his magic, his power, fighting for dominance over her hand. She instinctively responded. Mine.

A ripple of…something, slammed into his working, pushing it back to his bound cord.

Oh! I see. It’s a fight for authority over the target. Master Jevin had explained that to her in a way, but she hadn’t really understood and integrated it. Now, it was obvious.

Gravity is mine to manipulate as I wish. That hand is my target. It is MINE.

The feeling before was like throwing her glaive. She had great strength but could only impart so much of it as the spell-form moved away from her. Now, it was as if she was properly braced and charging forward, glaive in a firm grip.

Her power, her will, her magic claimed his hand’s gravity as her own. Her spell-working clicked into place, taking hold and beginning to increase the effective weight of the appendage, if slower than she’d have liked. Zakrias’ own magical weight was still resisting her, even if it couldn’t throw of her working entirely.

Tala’s focus on his hand, however, had loosened her own defenses, and his working was beginning to affect her as well.

A minute passed in silent struggle, each able to affect the other but just barely.

Her gravity increase was working, despite his resistance, but the hand wouldn’t drop. How is he still keeping that up? It should feel like having an armored guard hanging from the tips of his fingers.

He didn’t even appear to be flexing, to keep the hand up. Wait. His muscles aren’t contracted at all. How is his hand staying up?

On her defensive side, her hand was becoming cold. She knew she’d already have frostbite, without her enhanced recovery, but she refused to give in.

After another long minute, in which ice began to form across her hand from moisture pulled from the air, she was beginning to have trouble focusing through the pain. Not all enhanced senses are a boon… She should talk to Holly about reducing her pain receptivity.

Even so, her mage-sight had locked onto something around his hand. The truth finally clicked into place. “You’re stealing the kinetic energy from your hand.”

It looks like he’s sequestering that energy for later use? That was fascinating, if true. It was also the type of information that he’d probably never share.

Worth asking though.

He grinned triumphantly in reply. “I am.” His voice came out a bit strained. “But I must say you are taking a lot of power to resist.”

“It seems more like you’re taking the power, storing it for later?”

His eyes widened in surprise, but that was the only reaction he showed. “A Mage must keep some secrets.”

Tala gave a pained snort. “Fine, fine.” After a moment, she frowned, gritting her teeth against the cold. “We really shouldn’t be depleting your inscriptions before a hunt.”

He shook his head. “This isn’t pleasant, but it’s my most efficient ability. You are forcing me to use a lot more than I’d expected, but I can still do this for days.” After a moment’s hesitation. “Wait… I won’t have to do this for days…right?”

She forced out a short laugh. “Forever, unless I undo it.” She involuntarily jerked, her body rebelling against the ice-crystals now forming within her flesh.

“Oh…” He swallowed, considering for a brief moment. “What do you say we call it a tie?”

Rust that! I don’t want to lose. Then, she thought about it.

You’re being foolish, Tala. There is literally nothing of consequence on the line. Take the tie.

Tala nodded quickly, before she could change her mind again. “Yes.”

She immediately reversed her casting. Reduce. The resistance to her working vanished, as Zakrias was no longer opposing her, and she easily claimed full authority over the gravity of his hand. Thus, she was able to quickly move his hand back to experiencing normal gravity.

She likewise allowed him authority over her hand, to reduce the strain on his magics, and Zakrias, for his part, immediately flooded her hand with controlled heat, making way for her to easily repair her damaged flesh.

That was kind of him. “Thank you for that. It wasn’t necessary.”

He shrugged and smiled. “No need to strain your healing when this takes so little from me.”

Tala’s working finished restoring his hand to normal gravity, and a bit of an awkward lull fell over them.

Mistress Odera didn’t care, she was busy doing… something.

Tala’s mage-sight told her that the Mage was keeping careful tabs on the caravan and their surroundings, despite her closed eyes. Yeah, that tracks.

If the silence persisted, it was going to be a long remainder of Zakrias’ trip.

What to ask, what to ask…oh! “Hey, I’ve been wondering.”

Zakrias turned his gaze back to her. “Hmm?”

“There are an unusually high number of fire aligned creatures in this area.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Not a question, though.” He grinned.

“How has the forest not burned down?”

“Well, that’s actually an interesting bit of trivia.”

“Oh?”

“You see, the local Archons some…six? Eight? Something like that. Six or eight cycles ago noticed the increase in fire creatures. Specifically, a large number of them were breathing fire, and in the forest, as you guessed, that’s bad.”

She chuckled, and he smiled in turn.

“Thus, they went on a hunt for the fount, which was granting these powers, to put a stop to it, but as they searched, they realized something.” He paused for effect.

Tala decided to play along. “What did they realize?”

His smile widened. “They realized that there had never been a forest fire of any great magnitude. Not in living memory, not even since the number of fire creatures had increased.”

After another pause, she asked, “So, why not?”

“Well, they had no idea. So, they investigated. As it turns out, there is an arcanous creature, a kind of bear, that goes through the forest, devouring any open flame.”

“Just one?”

“Well, supposedly they are only seen individually, so there’s never been a confirmation of more than one.”

“What does it look like? I’d hate to kill it on accident.”

Zakrias laughed. “It’s a massively powerful creature, Mistress. It takes power from every spark and seems incredibly efficient in its means of storing magic. As to how it looks?” He shrugged. “All that anyone’s ever seen is smoke, in the form of a bear. Whether it is smoke coming off some body underneath, or it truly is made of smoke, I’ve not found proof either way.”

She looked at him skeptically. “A bear, made of smoke, that eats fire.”

He shrugged. “I’ve seen one myself.”

“What, do they wear silly hats and pants too?”

“No…why?” He looked incredibly confused.

“Well, if you’re making up stories, you should go all the way.”

He shook his head. “If you don’t want to believe me, you don’t have to.”

Tala glanced towards Mistress Odera.

The older woman smiled, even as her eyes remained closed. “He’s not telling you lies, Mistress. The beast, or beasts, have been spotted throughout the southern woods, and there has never been a recorded forest fire, in this region.” She seemed to hesitate. “Well, no, small blazes seem to crop up, they are an integral part of the lifecycle of any forest, but there are never any large enough to threaten the trees.”

“So, fires in the forest, but no forest fires.”

“That seems to be the case.” The older woman still hadn’t opened her eyes, and she kept them closed as she fell back into silence.

Tala turned back to Zakrias. “My apologies for disbelieving you, Master.”

“It is understandable, Mistress. I was skeptical, too, until I encountered one.”

“Huh, the more you know, I suppose.”

Zakrias nodded, then finished the saying. “The stranger the world reveals itself to be.”

Tala found herself nodding. She’d definitely found that to be true. “What is something that you wish you’d known, before you became a Harvester?”

He tilted his head in consideration. “Are you thinking of becoming a hunter?”

She shrugged. “It’s good money, and I’ve enjoyed harvesting when I could in the past.”

Zakrias grunted. “Not the worst reason, I suppose.”

“So?”

“Hmmm…” He seemed to consider the question. “Well, the first thing is that being a devastating attacker is a liability more than an asset.” He chuckled. “Sure, it will keep you alive, and you should definitely keep some overwhelming, quick-kill workings in your secret storage, in case things rust through, but in general?” He looked back to her. “You need clean kills, in the sense that you want your target to die clean: no mess, no destruction of anything you might want to harvest.”

That made sense. “Yeah, but that’s pretty obvious, right?”

“Your gravity attacks. Do you have much harvestable material when you kill with that?”

“Well,” she thought for a moment, “in general, no. No, I don’t.”

“Exactly. I’m sure it’s a great working: clever, effective, quick, and efficient. But with it, you’d be a poor Harvester. Without it, you’re missing key tools from your powerset.”

Tala frowned. “What do you use?”

“Me?” He grinned. “I use everything. I impart kinetic energy into little objects to pierce their vitals. I give motion to the air, creating sounds surrounding my prey that distracts and gives me the advantage. When I can work it, I can begin processing them before they die. If you give two portions of flesh kinetic energy in opposing directions, and you are precise enough, they shear apart more cleanly than under the finest blade.”

She blinked at him, seeing him in a new light.

Zakrias was a hunter: brutal, efficient, and meticulous. He was old, and that meant he’d survived on his own in the Wilds for years, probably decades. He had a calm confidence that spoke of perfect understanding of his own capabilities. He would likely never enter a situation when he wasn’t sure of victory, and he would always have a plan of retreat if anything diverted from his plan.

He was a hunter.

A predatory smile briefly stole across his lips. “Ahh, there it is. You understand. Being a hunter, a part of the Harvesters, there are only two paths.”

She waited, already sure she knew the gist of what he was going to say.

“You either die quickly, or you learn to think like a predator. That doesn’t mean you fight every fight or defeat every foe. It does mean that you know you can defeat every foe you fight, else you don’t fight it.”

Tala considered, her eyes flicking to Terry, still sitting on her shoulder. Like Terry.

She had a brief curiosity if Terry or Zakrias would win in a fight, but quickly dismissed the idea. Not a productive line of thought.

Zakrias leaned back once more. “But that’s why there are so few of us, and why we still make such good money.” He grinned, the predatory tint to the expression had faded. “What does it take to be a caravan protector?”

Tala opened her mouth to answer, then hesitated. After a moment’s thought, she sighed. “Mistress Odera would be a better person to answer that question.”

Mistress Odera’s eyes snapped open, and the older woman regarded Tala critically. After a long moment, she huffed, smiled, and nodded to her junior.

Tala rolled her eyes. I’m still an Archon, old woman. Even so, she smiled.

Mistress Odera thought for a moment, before nodding. “The most important part of being a Mage Protector is that you are defending something, as stands to reason. More specifically, you are defending something fragile, that is very near by. A Mage defending a fortress or city can allow attacks through, they can move to other defensive positions, and they have the in place defenses supporting them.”

Zakrias nodded, listening to her words.

“A Mage Protector of a caravan does not have a defensive structure to utilize, they cannot retreat to a better position, and those around them cannot take the attacks if they fail. Such a Mage must be able to engage the enemy and hold them back, defeating their assault, rather than simply enduring it.”

He hummed in contemplative thought. “I’ve heard similar descriptions, before, but never quite in that way.” He nodded. “I understand that it is much more difficult than manning the defensive towers around a plain’s city, but I’d not considered why.”

Tala interjected. “There’s also that around cities, waning cities excepted, there is much less magic, so the beasts that attack are weaker. Out in the Wilds, as you know well, they are stronger.”

He pointed at her with a smile. “That’s the explanation I’ve heard before, and the one that I’d have expected.”

“No less true.” She hedged.

“Oh, of course not. It is arguably the largest reason the Wilds are so dangerous.”

Zakrias turned to back to Mistress Odera, and the conversation wandered on, touching quite a few topics, before it wound down.

By that point, they had left the bowl around Makinaven behind, and Zakrias was seeming ready to depart.

“Thank you, Mistresses, for your hospitality, the conversation, and the ride.” He stood, bowing to each of them. “Take care, stay safe, and may we meet again in a time of peace.”

Mistress Odera bowed back to him. “May that be sooner than we could dare hope.”

With a parting smile in their direction, and no visible flexing of his muscles, Zakrias launched from the wagon, sailing away through the trees.

Tala cocked an eyebrow. “I thought he said he’d be walking.”

Mistress Odera snorted. “He’s showing off. I’d bet every ounce of gold to my name that he’ll be walking as soon as he’s sure he’s outside our range of detection.”

Tala grunted. “Probably true.” Even so, though, she was incredibly intrigued. He can fly. That was something that she would be dearly interested in figuring out for herself.