Millennial Mage

Tala, Lyn, and Ron were standing in the sanctum—with Terry sitting on Tala’s shoulder—watching the view that Alat provided. It was as if they had front row seats to a truly unusual fight, from a mundane perspective.

To Tala’s eyes it made perfect sense.

Rane matched Meallain in raw fighting prowess strike for strike… about half of the time. To counter the other half, his body simply moved out of each given strike’s path in ways that no humanoid could have gotten the leverage to move.

On his part, Rane would occasionally seemingly strike at empty air, causing Tala to tsk. “Her concept almost forces your instincts to be wrong. You know she’s about to move one way before she moves the other. She’s clever with it too. Your instincts won’t always be wrong. She capitalizes on your thinking, gets in your head. Letting your instincts be right until you actually count on them. She’s survived and thrived specifically by dancing that line with each given opponent.”

Though, if she wanted to, she could simply overwhelm someone and take them out.

Ron was clutching the simple short sword that he’d pulled free of his tower shield of iron and white steel, his enhanced strength making the weight seemingly a non issue. “Let us help him, Mistress. Please?”

Tala grimaced. “You’ve seen her fight now. How many of you would stand up against her?”

It was Ron’s turn to grunt. “Ten. Don’t bring Kedva, please. Her family still needs her.”

And just like that, Tala understood what the man intended. Ron’s plan was to be a shield for Irondale, to spend his and the Talons’ lives to let Rane or Terry finish the fight. Tala stood, instinctively drawing as much authority to herself as she could in that brief moment before pronouncing, “No. You will not go to die.”

He opened his mouth to object, but her anger flared.“If you believe you can contribute to the fight, I’ll send you in immediately. If your plan is to go and die in a vain hope of that helping, I say no.”

Ron grimaced then. “Fine. Five. Myself, Kedva, Torrap, Nalcof, and…” he hesitated for a moment, considering, “Rinnor.”

Tala gave him a long look, during which Rane and Meallain clashed a half-dozen more times.

Ron touched his shortsword to his shield, and the white steel flowed, altering the weapon into a one-handed, thrusting spear instead. “Please?”

Terry stood and trilled, signalling his readiness to go.

A portal opened beneath the flier on the superficial, drawing it back into the sanctum, and the five Talons were forewarned of their upcoming role.

Finally, Tala nodded. “Go.”

She opened a tiny portal right in front of Terry even as she willed the five Talons to the superficial.

The five appeared in a circle around Meallain, tower shields held protectively before them, spears already thrusting forward.

Enar had already informed Rane about the incoming backup, and so he was mid-assault when they arrived, Force lashing out in tight, ever-changing patterns.

A pulse of power radiated outward from Meallain even as the five appeared, her eyes widening.

Tala saw her concept hit everyone around her, and four spears shifted their points of impact, guided by expert hands following deceived instincts. Force was deflected off of Meallain’s shield even as those four spears thrust through empty air.

Ron’s spear, however, didn’t waiver. He seemingly ignored his instincts—that were likely screaming at him to shift his point of attack—and put his blade through her low back on the right side, just above her hip.

I’m glad she’s not wearing her armor.

-Well, she seemingly wasn’t on the warpath before coming after us. It would have sent an entirely horrid message to anyone she was speaking with to show up in full armor.- Alat let the implications hang heavily in their mind.

Hey… I’m not that bad. I usually don’t let people know I’m wearing it.

But that was all the time they had, in the fraction of an instant between the spear strike and the result. The hit made her scream—mostly in irritation, but there was definitely pain involved as well—even as both her protian weapons became great lengths of bladed chain, whipping out to strike everyone around her in a sort of metal cyclone that Tala did not want to face herself. Ŗ𝐚ℕȰ฿ËṤ

The Talons caught the blows on their shields, the power of the strikes throwing them all backward. Even so, their training and power held true, and they landed, skidding backward rather than tumbling into heeps.

Rane got Force up in time, and his own magic moved him back rather than letting the chain wrap around his block to strike him regardless.

That left Meallain alone on the hilltop, eyes locked on Rane. “You were the distraction? You had five more powerful warriors available, and they sent you? Are you gated insane?” Then she froze, her eyes widening further. “Not gated? And you’re burning power like stuck pigs. How do you have this much power with absolutely no finesse?”

She shook her head as if to clear it, at the same time, her magic was sealing up the wound in her low back.

“What the rust is going on here—?”

That’s when Terry struck.

He appeared with only the smallest blip of dimensional power, his talons already raking across her left shoulder, alive with void magic that was pushed back into the weapons and away from her flesh by the sheer power of her aura, even as she twisted, avoiding much of the attack, striking out and causing Terry to flicker away.

Did she just focus and concentrate her aura and authority as a means of active defense?

-I… I think so? I think we’ve seen things similar, but to actually suppress magic on the edge of a blade? That’s insane!-

At the same moment, the Talons sprinted back in, and Rane launched himself forward, imparting a truly staggering amount of kinetic energy into himself to cover the distance to arrive first.

By the time she’d finished her warding strike against Terry, Meallain had Rane’s blade through her back… or she would have if she hadn’t decided that things had gone far enough.

The zeme of the entire region changed in an instant, becoming a massive vortex, pulling power in toward her. The Talons weren’t actually bleeding power, it was more that they were using power at a tremendous rate. So, blessedly, they weren’t giving their enemy more power to work with.

Even so, a truly staggering amount of magic was coming toward the Eskau.

There was an odd flicker of power to Tala’s magesight, and then Meallain went up like a funeral pyre, burning with power for all the world to see.

That won’t make things better…

-No kidding…-

Tala stood, her armor growing over her in an instant, and only then did she realize just how much inspiration the Talons had taken from her defenses, despite the fact that it should have been instantly obvious.

Not the time for thoughts on fashion and armor choice, Tala.

She was about to will herself to the superficial, but Lyn held up a hand. “Wait! Tala, wait.”

Tala ground her teeth, a habit she’d never picked up, but it seemed appropriate in the moment. “Why?” The one word came out with such force—echoed by the power she had over the entire sub-dimension around them. “Why should I let them fight alone?”

“They aren’t fighting alone, and if you don’t show yourself, she might still be driven off. This is how we fight. We need to wear her down.” Lyn touched Tala’s armored shoulder. “If she sees you, she won’t ever retreat, not in the state she’s in right now, maybe not even if she was of sound mind.”

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Tala almost stomped her foot in irritation, but she realized that would be exceedingly childish.

She then almost turned and broke her throne with a punch, but not only would that have been needlessly destructive, it would have required her to take her eyes off the display.

Sure, she could still perceive the battle taking place, but it wasn’t the same. At least that’s what she convinced herself of to help leash her fury… and fear.

On the superficial, things were going… interestingly.

Terry and Rane were striking hard and fast and pulling back to keep themselves alive.

The Talons were keeping a careful distance, thrusting their now longer spears forward whenever there was an opening.

Meallain engaged them all, her weapons a blur as she blocked, dodged and counter attacked, despite being surrounded. The only evidence of any injury upon her was the damage to—and staining of—her clothing, through which her perfect, pale flesh showed.

Not all of the Talons were equally skilled in feathering their use of power, and while those who ‘bled’ more were more powerful as a result, they also burned out faster.

Tala watched with growing trepidation as Meallain pulsed her power, spiking its use only when and as she needed it.

Honestly, the control and finesse was a thing of beauty. Despite effectively using five or six times more power than she had been, the Eskau’s usage was barely more than her average had been.

As a result, when the first Talon bottomed out on power, Meallain had barely used five percent of her reserves.

The elf woman sneered. “Pathetic.”

Torrap’s eyes widened as she closed on him faster than seemed possible to his now mundane sight.

Tala barely willed him back into Irondale in time.

Meallain screamed at the sky, her concept causing a dozen strikes to miss her in her moment of emotional venting. “Who is still interfering with me? Can I not have the blood that I’ve earned?”

The blood from her few wounds still stained the cloth around them, but nothing about the now healed cuts seemed to be hampering her. Her magics kept her as nimble and effective as ever.

The other Talons fell quickly after that, thankfully all being drawn out, with Ron and Kedva being the final two, in that order.

Meallain spat to the side, a little flower quickly growing where her spit landed. “Pathetic.” She cut the flower down. “All that power and all they could do was spend time.” She shook her head. “What a waste. But I do know one thing, now.”

Rane backed up a step, Terry flickering to his side, crouched low, clearly about to spring. “What is that?”

“You know what happened to my Tali, my Tala. You must. That is the only explanation for weaponry that so mimics the House of Blood’s protian weapons. Though, in truth, they were handled so inexpertly that I want to weep at the comparison.”

When Rane frowned, Meallain laughed.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice them changing and adjusting their weaponry through the clashes? You have at your disposal massive gems, yet you leave them uncut, unpolished, languishing in the gutter for peasants to pee upon.”

In a fit of pique, Tala brought Kedva and Ron back to the superficial, fully topped off.

“I think we’re doing alright for ourselves.” Kedva snapped out, causing Meallain to whirl.

On her other side, Ron struck home, his spear slipping through Meallain’s left thigh this time.

She cursed and blurred, burning a chunk of power as she slammed her weapon—now shaped as a long, stiletto bladed punch-dagger—through Ron’s breastplate.

Still, the armor had done its job, deflecting the blow outward so that she only punched through his ribs and lung rather than his heart.

Meallain ripped her weapon free, turning to deflect Kedva’s attack even as Tala pulled Ron back to Irondale where the other Talons began tending to him immediately.

Truthfully, the magic rich environment that Kit supplied was more than enough to ensure that the man would survive, but it would take a little time and a lot of food. He was out of this fight for the moment.

-Umm… Tala?-

Not now, Alat.

-This is sort of important?-

Is it urgent? Does it have to do with this fight?

-No, but—-

Then tell me later.

-...Alright…- Her tone conveyed that Tala would regret the choice, but Tala didn’t care in the moment.

Meallain was done playing around. She took a slamming hit from Force and three cuts from Terry to spin low and cleave off Kedva’s left leg.

The woman collapsed, only the first part of her scream escaping her mouth before Tala had her and her leg back in Ironhold, her will holding the two together even as Kedva’s magics repaired the razor thin cut.

The elf laughed maniacally. “What a rusting waste. You have all this capacity, but you fight like children who stole their father’s sword.” She shook her head. “Enough. We’re done.”

Tala watched as Meallain’s soul flexed. She watched as the elder Eskau locked down existence around herself.

Terry flickered, trying to go for another strike, but instead, he found himself shunted to the outside of her radius of control, his attacks rending the air to no effect. He let out a screech of irritation, but no matter what he tried over the next few seconds, he could no longer flicker near her. Even so, Tala and he both saw that her defense against him drained her power every time he tried, so he kept at it. His eyes practically glowed with fury as he flickered dozens of times a second, trying to overwhelm her through sheer attrition.

After a startled glance, conveying just how stunned she was by his continued assault, the elf gave a single nod of respect, a smile tugging at her lips. Meallain then turned away, ignoring the bird as she strode straight for Rane.

Rane, for his part, slammed Force forward, striking the side of her head.

The blow connected—much to Rane’s obvious surprise—but the elf only took a single stagger-step to the side, using the motion to wrap an attack around and attack him from the back.

He barely rolled around that strike with the aid of his magics.

His follow-up strikes did not connect, despite him clearly trying to fight his instincts when appropriate.

Her own weapon skittered across his armor, clearly overwhelming his defensive magics with her speed and power. Thankfully, the magically reinforced plates were keeping him from taking even small wounds for the moment. Even more blessedly, his kinetic magics didn’t fire after the fact. That would have caused him to be jerked around toward no benefit.

More important than the direct conflict, however, was the clash of authority and aura.

Tala tried to lend her weight and power to Rane, and that seemed to help, but even together, they couldn’t truly stand up to a Hallowed in the prime of her roaring, burning power.

Rane’s continued mastery of the space right around him allowed him to pull power and momentum from each strike both as it came in and as she tried to pull it back, but even that wasn’t enough to overcome the gulf between them, as the elf simply burned more magic to power through.

Meallain continued to exchange blows with Rane, coming out ahead in each clash, only kept from victory by the armor that Rane always managed to position properly.

Chips began to show across its surface, but that seemingly wasn’t enough for the elf. Meallain shifted her protian weapons to war-picks and similarly armor-piercing weapons, and under that renewed assault, the bone began to reach its limits, even with Rane stealing a monumental amount of power from each strike before it landed.

Even so, after nearly two minutes of lightning fast back and forths, the elf stepped back, giving a shallow bow. “You have shown yourself a worthy combatant. Give me what I want, and I will let you live.”

Rane slowly shook his head. “No. I am happy to talk with you on her behalf, but you will not have those I protect.”

Without warning, the air at the very edge of Rane’s compressed and hardened aura blossomed with energy, his will, authority, and power shaping and directing the blast of heat and light that shot straight for Meallain’s chest.

It was an unbelievably fast attack, and it only had to cover a handful of feet to reach its target, but the Hallowed wasn’t where Rane had aimed. Her concept had already decided the outcome of this battle.

Even so, it burned away her left sleeve and set her pants ablaze before her power put the fire out.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to affect such a seasoned warrior, and while his lance of heat and light still hung in the air—dispersing like the after image of a lightning strike—Meallain moved.

She stepped forward with a deceptively lazy strike, her blade actually whipping through the air too fast for anyone present to see. Even Tala’s enhanced mind and vision weren’t enough.

Rane’s magics moved him backward in a blur that was difficult for even Tala to follow, but when he stopped moving, his right arm fell free, having been severed at the shoulder, Meallain’s blade having struck into the gaps in his armor and navigated them perfectly.

Tala’s very soul vibrated with shock and horror, the feelings clearly resonating and amplifying off of that coming from her bond to her husband.

Rane was not used to taking hits, even if he could do so—his entire fighting style designed to keep that from happening, to keep his berserker ‘boon’ from activating. He was not used to losing limbs.

Tala tried to bring Rane back to the sanctum, but she couldn’t. Meallain had locked down everything.

No! If he berserks, she’ll kill him instantly.

-She’ll likely do that anyway! Try other avenues.-

She couldn’t open a portal; she couldn’t bring him back; she couldn’t even will herself to go out. Every skill and ability with regard to Kit was locked out.

Terry’s attacks became frantic as he flickered around at the edge of her range, her magics actively opposing every one of his attempts. His trilling screeches held a depth of emotion that rocked Tala to her core.

He knew what losing Rane would mean to her, and he was trying desperately to prevent it.

He was failing.

Oh, it was true that Terry would wear Meallain down eventually, but eventually wasn’t going to be soon enough.

Rane starred in muted horror at his arm as it lay on the ground for only a moment before he overcame his shock—or more likely wrestled down his innate berserk reaction—and acted, activating magics that caused it to move to him and allowed him to take Force into his left hand.

He was already falling into a battle stance as magics on his armor activated, cutting off the blood before a second spurt from his shoulder could further paint the grass red.

Meallain looked down at her sword and grunted. There was a thin crack in it, near the midway point. “You and your armor were stronger than I expected.”

She exhaled and the crack flowed back together, filling in.

“It won’t be enough, though. All I asked for was a little information. All this?” She gestured around herself. “All this is because you wouldn’t be reasonable.”

She fell into her stance—one that Tala knew all too well—and moved forward to strike the final blow.

Finally, finally, in that last instant, Tala had a realization and acted, having not a second to waste on reconsidering her desperate gamble.